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a-boca-do-inferno · 2 years

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aloha, baby (logan howlett x human!reader)

summary: Logan is your driver and he’s accompanying you in your vacation. While there, he confesses something you’d never expect.

warnings: cheating, fluff, smut

words: 2.6k

notes: this is way too specific lol maybe the tags are a bit misleading but whatever im not good at tagging. enjoy it anyways <3

You let out a long sigh as soon as you arrived at the airport, followed suit by Logan. The fresh air of Hawaii welcomed you both with open arms and you smiled. He watched you in silence behind his sunglasses, but you didn’t notice his little smirk seeing you so happy. This was a trip long coming and you couldn’t be more excited for it, as the past few months had been really trying at your job. You just wanted to relax and Logan knew that, so he was glad for you. You deserved to rest, finally.

“I’ll get the luggage.”

You nodded to your driver, already heading towards your rented car. “Alright.”

Feeling the heat of that morning, you realized your current clothing wasn’t suited for it at all, so you leaned against your vehicle and took off your heavy coat. A sigh of relief left your lips and you checked the time; it was almost past noon. Your stomach gave a little grunt and you figured the in-flight snacks weren’t enough to satisfy it. It’d just have to wait until you get to the hotel, however, as you were really tired and needed to lay down as soon as possible.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Logan approaching you with a baggage cart. “Kinda hot in here, ain’t it?”, he mumbles, stopping beside you as he takes off his glasses. He pulled out a cigar from God knows where, lighting it up and taking a drag as he studied his surroundings. It wasn’t his first time in the place, but it sure was different from the early seventies, when he’d visited it.

“Hawaii for you, my dear friend”, you grinned, taking a piece of paper out of your bag to use it as a fan. You watched as he unlocked the trunk and stowed your things inside. “Not gonna lie, I really like this warm, relaxing feeling.”

“Thought you hated the heat”, he commented, still with the cigar in his mouth.

You shrugged. “When I’m working, yes.”

“Right.” He closed the trunk with a thud, unlocking the car in the process. Logan opened the door for you and you thanked him briefly, settling into the passenger seat. He did the same and started the vehicle without further ado. “How long are you planning to stay, by the way?”, he furrowed his brows, switching his gaze between the road and you.

“Two weeks, at least. I wanna rest a little before going back to the craziness again.”

“So, I’m booking the first flight back home in two weeks?”

“Yeah, you can book that one. And put us in Executive Class, please. I wanna eat well for once!” He laughed, turning a corner. You took out your cell phone and noticed some missed calls from your boyfriend. He probably called while you were still on the plane. You told him you were on your way to the hotel and turned your attention back to Logan. “Are you really gonna stay here with me? You’re sure you don’t wanna enjoy your vacation, visit your friends in Westchester or something?”

“I already saw them this year. Plus, can’t leave a damsel in distress all alone in a place she’s never been before.” You rolled your eyes, but kept listening. “And technically, I’m on vacation with you. The difference is that I’m still getting my pay check for these two weeks. Only wins.”

You two exchanged a quick glance and you shook your head, staring at the red light in front of you. “I cannot believe you sometimes...” Logan was quiet, then started the car again when the light turned green. You sighed. “You staying in the hotel with me, yeah?”

“’Course.”

You looked deeply at his brown eyes, trying to find something you didn’t really know what it was. You used to do that a lot with Logan. “Same room, right?”

Logan stared back at you for a little longer, now. He tried to spot any amusement in your features, showing that perhaps you were only joking, but found none. His hands brushed the steering wheel slightly as he looked ahead again. “What would your boyfriend think of that, (y/n)?”, he questions at last, feeling a bit uncomfortable for having to say it out loud.

Logan knew you both weren’t in exactly good terms, but still; it didn’t feel like his place to “interfere” somehow, no matter how much he wanted to be close to you. Not because of some respect he held for that guy, he really couldn’t stand him whenever he was around, but rather to keep your honour. He knew people back home were all very quick to judge when you announced you’d be taking him to your vacation, so he didn’t want to give them any more food for thought.

You, on the other hand, were still staring at your driver, and all you could do was roll your eyes. Sometimes you felt like Logan was too prude for his own good and you hated it. You knew he was way older than you, what with his mutant abilities and all; however, it offended you a little bit that he’d think you were planning to attack him once you’re alone in a room.

You scoffed, trying to keep your cool. “He will think nothing of it, you’re my friend. And besides, it’s not like I’m gonna jump your bones the first opportunity I have, Logan.”

“You know I didn’t say that”, he states matter-of-factly, too calm for your taste.

“But you implied it”, you grumbled, then turned to look at your window. “And I might dump him anyway, just so you know.”

“You’re still with him, though”, he takes a drag, opening his window to let out the smoke.

“You’re insufferable.” He shrugged and said nothing, unyielding. You cleared your throat, giving him a pleading look. This always worked with him. “You know it would be much better if we stayed in the same room. That way, I won’t have to call you every time I need you. Plus, what if somebody tries to break in and I’m alone? I might get hurt. And what about my lady necessities, who will go buy them for me? Or you’re gonna leave a damsel all alone in a place she’s never been before?”, you dramatically shook your head, disapproving of his response in advance.

He only gave you an unimpressed look, but couldn’t hold back an incredulous laugh. “You’re so spoiled, my God.” You shrugged without answering him, then he sighed in defeat. “Fine, same room.”

“Yay!”, you clapped your hands like a happy child, which made him roll his eyes, even though there was a small smile on his lips. “Aloha, baby!”

The rest of the way was in a rather pleasant silence. Arriving at the hotel, you got your keys with the receptionist and went straight up to your room. It turned out you wouldn’t be in separate rooms even if you wanted to, since they were all booked. It was the end of the year after all, people went on vacation and they travelled a lot to Hawaii.

You were now sprawled out on the double bed while your driver brought your bags. You kicked off your shoes, tying your hair into a loose bun as you went barefoot to the bathroom. You didn’t usually put on makeup for long trips, so you simply splashed some water on your face to freshen up. You could take a bath later, now you just wanted to relax before going back to the madness that was your life.

“I got everything”, Logan announced, returning to the room for the second time with two carry-on bags. He frowned and pointed to the bed. “I thought it was two singles.”

“So did I”, you shrugged, taking your baggage and opening it. “The lady at the reception must have mixed up the rooms, but I don’t think it’s a problem. Unless you don’t want to share a bed with me?”, you looked at him inquiringly.

“You know that’s not it, (y/n)”, he said categorically, as if it was obvious. Logan sat next to you and analysed your face, smiling sideways: “and I bet it’s you who wouldn’t wanna sleep with me.”

“Sleep?”, you arched your eyebrows amusingly. “When did we jump from ’sharing the bed’ to ’sleeping together’? Logan, you naughty boy...”, you pushed him jokingly.

“You get it, stop being cute”, he said with an annoyed expression, pushing you back a little. You took that as a challenge and threw yourself on top of his body with all your strength, causing him to lie on the bed under you. You laughed like two kids as you tried to take control of the situation, until you eventually won. You held his wrists in place and glared at him triumphally. You noticed a certain tension in his features, then Logan’s deep voice rang out in a silent murmur: “(y/n)...”

“What?”, you frowned, genuinely confused. You played like that all the time, it was kind of an inside joke of yours. “Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m sorry….” You hurried to get off his body, but he stopped you with his nimble hands.

“No, no... It’s not that.” He begins, making you look at him more confused than before. Logan seemed a little disturbed, incredulous and frustrated at the same time. A loud sigh left his lips. “You just... You better not do these things anymore.”

“But I always did and you never cared”, you considered weakly, after all it was not your intention to make him uncomfortable. You just wanted to understand why that reaction. “I’m heavier, is that it? I thought I got fat, that pizza from last week...”

“It’s not that, (y/n)...” He let out another disbelieving laugh, this time looking you in the eye. The hands that once held your arms were now squeezing your waist gently. “You look beautiful, there’s nothing wrong with your body.”

“So what’s the problem, already?”, you asked impatient, getting so close to his face you could feel his heavy breathing.

Logan was silent and this only made you angrier. You opened your mouth to complain again, but you were silenced by his lips crashing against yours in a burst that felt like a flash, at the same time it happened in slow motion. The hands on your waist pulled you closer, making you groan in his arms on instinct.

You let his tongue invade you freely, each time it came into contact with yours causing a gentle shock. You were already out of breath when he sucked on your bottom lip like a hungry animal, which only fuelled the heat in your stomach. You were erupting and not even the AC above the two of you could cool you down. You took advantage of your position and thrust your hips into his, brushing your intimacies. The grip on your waist immediately went down to your ass and the pressure increased there, making you smirk.

“This...” Logan says, panting, pausing for a second. “This is the problem, (y/n).” He finished with another sigh, avoiding your gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I thought you’d never look at me like that. You always treated me like a friend.”

You shook your head, still a little dizzy with all that information being thrown at you. “But you are my friend, Logan.” You smoothed his stubble and he finally faced you. His brown eyes lost their earlier frustration, now bathed in something you guessed was affection.

“I am, but I don’t wanna be just that.”

“Are you asking me to date you?”, you smirked and he just nodded. “I’m going to need a verbal confirmation here, Logan.”

“It’s kinda hard to ask this to someone who’s already dating... But do you want to date me?”, he questioned finally, causing you to roll over in bed next. Now you were under him and he was holding your wrists with no escape. “Won’t you answer me?”

“I do.” You’re honest, somehow putting together all your certainties about Logan in a simple sentence. But that was it, you wanted it. You could think about your boyfriend later, for now all you cared about was those brown eyes on you. You smile affectionately, holding his gaze as you punctuate, “you’re handsome, smart, affectionate, caring, funny...”

“What else?”, he caressed your neck with his nose, leaving kisses all over it.

“Hot, strong... Ah...”, you moaned involuntarily when his lips descended to your lap, threatening your cleavage.

“I’m listening...”

You opened your mouth to continue, but the words became another loud moan as he unceremoniously pulled your tits out of your shirt. His wet tongue circled your nipple and you couldn’t help but arch your back. You watched Logan deftly sucking you, like his very life depended on it. You closed your eyes as he bit down lightly, shifting his attention between your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving them little squeezes. He was so entertained and eager to please you that it made you chuckle slightly.

“Looks like you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, huh?”, you panted, still watching his movements intently. Logan only smiled sideways without letting go of your nipple, this time brushing it with his tongue without any shame. “Fuck...”

“Does he make you feel that way, that guy?”, he teased, starting to suck you so hard it hurt a little. But you loved it.

“Sometimes…” You’re honest again, tears of pure pleasure already struggling to come down your face. He finally seemed to get tired of the torture and deliberately squeezed your breasts this time, leaving wet kisses on every spot. His lips then returned to yours, giving you a kiss as wet as before. “Are you just going to play around or are you fucking me?”

“Whatever you want, I can play with you all day...”, he pointed out, like the smart-ass he was. You rolled your eyes and ruffled his hair, taking in his gorgeous face. “I love you, you know that?”

“You shouldn’t”, you couldn’t keep it to yourself, taking a deep breath before continuing. “So many pretty women out there, Logan, and you go on and choose someone taken. And I’m not even that pretty...”

“I didn’t choose it, but I’d definitely choose you to love if I could.” You smiled a little embarrassed and looked away, however he held your face to keep staring at him. “And ‘not that pretty’? Sometimes I think you don’t have a mirror at home, sweetheart.”

“You know, I love you too.” You ignored his last comment, studying his features. “But I also kinda love him. I guess I have a big heart, huh?”, you laughed humourlessly.

“I know. I get it.”

“I don’t wanna do this you, though. You don’t deserve to be only an affair.”

He stops for a second, then nods. “I wanna be with you anyway. I just want to be with you, doesn’t matter how.”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’d never take you for the romantic type, Logan Howlett.”

“I’m not, this is all your fault.” He let out a low chuckle. “Maybe if I hadn’t met you, I’d still be living as some hermit, without any purpose in life. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You’re taken aback by his words, blushing terribly. You cup his face to place another peck on his lips, suddenly feeling warmth in your chest. “I’d choose you too.”

Logan responds by kissing you deeply, the blue sky of Hawaii outside of the window as your background. You were sure these were going to be the best two weeks of your life.

He undresses you from your pants as he huffs in your ear, making your whole body shiver, “aloha, baby.”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #hugh jackman x reader #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #x-men imagine #x-men x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #james logan howlett #hugh jackman

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ivyruins · 2 years

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Shopping with blooming panic love interests!

a/n: hello hello! gonna start writing for bp too now:D I just played it this week and IM SO IN LOVE AHHHHHH (night and xyx are my beloveds). feel free to send requests/asks! my first bp fic, them as shopping buddies <3 reader's gender is not mentioned, and goes by they/them! + lapslock c:

Nightowl

the type to wake up early (or not sleep at all, which was probably the most likely one) to wake you up for shopping

would offer to push the cart every time solely for the reason he wants to do that thing where he pushes the cart at full speed and hops on it last minute

a menace to shop with

before the trip, Nightowl would definitely wrap you in one of his hoodies (the hoodies he specifically has just so you could steal it from him). his hoodies are so big it makes you look like a blob, in which he claims it makes you "easier to find", implying he'd either leave you alone or he thought you would run off without him.

which was understandable, as some days you were more hyper than he was.

on those specific days, he would have to have you on cart duty, so you two don't have to spend time in the supermarket for too long.(but end up doing so anyway).

those are the times Nightowl feels truly responsible™ over you, grabbing all the items as you run around with the cart in his hoodie

at least he wouldn't have trouble finding someone wheeling a cart in a giant piece of clothing

"what the… how many cereal boxes do we need?" you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as Nightowl grabs another box off the shelf. he looks at you with a slightly surprised expression, as if it was common knowledge to grab more than necessary amount of cereal boxes.

"look, they come with these toys! we gotta have all the versions!" he beams, "doesn't he kind of look like Damien? I have to make sure he's in one of these!"

at the mention of Damien, your eyes widen, "do they have one that looks like Lola? you know what, grab them all!"

safe to say, you had held up the longest queue at the cashier when you were checking out.

Quest

probably the most responsible of them all

wakes up at a reasonable time, and would wake you up as well if you weren't awake already

also the most relaxing. he'd save the date he and you were off of work and set it as a reminder for your designated shopping day, and its like a little date you have.

Quest would be so patient with you. you didn't wanna go in the morning? afternoon it is. heck, even night was okay.

I feel like Quest would be the one to push the cart, but if you were adamant on doing the pushing then he wasn't going to stop you

recycle bag king be like quest and bring your own recycle bag !!

definitely has a shopping list as well, he's well prepared.

it was nine in the evening, and the cashier had announced that there was an hour left until closing. you and Quest had yet to finish the items off your list, but with the fluorescent lights glaring down on you, it was hard to stay awake.

the soft music from the speakers only accompanied your drowsiness. you were starting to get lightheaded, which was odd considering your bed time was no where close to now. it just seemed that with your position now, arms propped on the handle of the cart, walking at a slow, calm pace was rocking you to sleep.

Quest's soft humming to whatever the music was beside you was not helping either. occasionally, he would look up from the list on his phone, to calmly glance at the items as if the shop was not closing.

as if finally realizing the prolonged silence, Quest shifted his attention to you. you hear him sigh lightly.

"tired?" he asked, his hand coming up to hold the cart, offering to take your place. he didn't sound mad, instead, he sounded concerned. caring. adamant on continuing, you shake your head, shooting him a tired smile.

"nope, I'm good! maybe I'll grab another coffee real quick,"

at the mention of the caffeine, Quest shakes his head disapprovingly, guiding the cart you were lackadaisically pushing towards the only open queue left.

"nope, let's continue tomorrow then." he chuckles, pushing the cart, letting you whine, hiding your relief at his change of plans.

he always seems to get you.

NakedToaster

Toasty? going shopping?

You'd probably have to wake them on the weirdest hours just so they wouldn't straight up go gaming.

they fell asleep at 3am? shopping is at 9am, right before their energy replenishes to the max and they starts gaming again

they fell asleep at 9am? shopping's done at 1pm, for the same reason

they didn't sleep at all? (real shocker), then like Nightowl, immediately going!

honestly sleepy toasty is the best partner to shop with

their on cart duty, would just follow what you say. its like having a personal shopping assistant.

they'd give their input on meals occasionally, but overall its you who chooses the food. they don't really mind, as long as its edible.

the rare times Toast would speak, you'd be able to hear their gruff morning voice, and it really catches you off guard when they say it on the most random occasions ever.

overall, Toast is the ideal calm shopping partner.

"hey, Toasty. should we get some more fruits?" you ask, picking up and examining an apple from the fruit stand. beside you, Toast hums-his hair in a messy braid you had managed to pull for him- looking at his phone. you sigh, picking the phone out of their hand, causing them to look up at you.

"Xyx was messaging me in the server!" he says defensively, although the tone of his voice suggested something different, "here, I'll pull up vc, you can yell at him."

"Toast," you chuckle, pocketing his phone, "I know you're working on bloombot. I saw it last night on your other monitor, come on, take your mind off of it for a bit?" you ask, pleading.

Toast's expression softens. he sighs, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead apologetically, "alright then, love. what we're you asking?"

Xyx

Shopping with Xyx

yes

shopping with Xyx just consists of countless jokes between the two of you

probably the most normal one as well

no because Xyx would be such a gentleman??

if it was allowed, he'd bring cat too. cat sits in the seat at the shopping cart and he pushes the cart too.

he'd claim that he likes pushing the cart but truthfully he just doesn't want you to do much work

he'd leave the shopping list (if you had one) to you, though.

like Toast, except Xyx is wide awake this time, you would do most of the shopping as he coos and plays with cat.

"hm, it looks like we don't have any more space. Guess someone has to move." You say, poking at the feline friend on your cart, who had decided to drop from the seat to sit at the center of your cart. cat meows and stretches, before going to (what you would assume to be) sleep.

"cat must like it there against the metal. reckon we should get it a cage?" Xyx laughs at the unresponsive pet who refused to budge, petting it's head, "then again, I doubt it'd ever leave our bed. cat likes you."

you shake your head, dismissing his words, "little rascal won't even move, I doubt it does!" you laugh, walking over to the next aisle as Xyx pushes the cart to follow you, stopping right in front of the cat food section, "now, maybe we should just skip this part. doubt we'd have any space to put it."

as if sensing your evildoings, the feline in your cart immediately gets up, curious head peeking from where it sat comfortably among the snacks and cold drinks, head laying gently on the carton of eggs. Cat meows, as if chiding you, and jumps to get off. you grin, seems like your plan had worked.

leaning down, you pet cat's head, "you evil little thing,"

"got it from me,'' Xyx says proudly, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"yeah, no shit!"

#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #blooming panic nightowl x reader #blooming panic quest x reader #blooming panic nakedtoaster x reader #blooming panic xyx x reader #xyx x reader #nakedtoaster x reader #quest x reader #nightowl x reader #bp xyx #bp nakedtoaster #bp quest #bp nightowl

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queenshelby · 3 years

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Roommates – Part Fourteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,580

Warning: Fluff

Note: This plays in 2020. It’s all fiction and not based on Cillian’s real life and family.

It has been a week since Cillian found out about Laura’s lie and, as expected, it took him some time to come to terms with it. Whilst, on one hand, he was relieved that she wasn’t pregnant after all he had been through with her, he was also somewhat disappointed by it. After all, he had been looking forward to finally becoming a father after him and his ex-wife Lindsay went through IVF for many years unsuccessfully.

Luckily for him, you knew that he was struggling and you were there to pick up the pieces and support him through this horrible initial week after he had found out.

Unfortunately for you, Laura had also since found out that you were involved with Cillian and ceased the opportunity to seek revenge which, for some reason, she still thought she was entitled to. Her friendship with most of your mutual friends had been destroyed after it was found out what she did. But this wasn’t your fault you thought. It was hers alone.

After sending you at least ten text messages, telling you how you were the most horrible person who had ever walked this earth, she informed James and most of your other friends and Cillian’s family about your relationship with Cillian in order to get them to turn on you instead of her.

As a result, James kept calling, messaging and emailing you constantly and you ran out of options on how to block him after he obtained several new phone numbers and email addresses so that he could harass you, thinking that you had been involved with Cillian for years.

As for your family and friends, you found it difficult to explain to them that there was only some truth to what Laura was saying. You tried hard to make clear to them that you were not in a relationship with Cillian and it was Cillian’s mother herself who didn’t take your and her son’s explanations serious.

‘I think my mother is set on the idea that we are together’ Cillian chuckled as he handed you the invitation to her 70th birthday which specifically mentioned you as his plus one.

‘She told me about it already. She also enquires about your wellbeing on a daily basis, darling. Apparently, you aren’t very forthcoming to her about your feelings. Luckily, her birthday not until after Christmas’ you laughed.

You had always gotten along well with Cillian’s mother since you met her almost ten years ago.

‘I am not sure if I should be more amused by the fact that my mother talks to you more often than to me or that she thinks that we will be out of lockdown by January next year’ Cillian then said, smiling before offering you a cup of tea.

‘Well, you know your mum and I get on like a house on fire, sweetheart’ you then joked before approaching Cillian and kissing him gently.

You didn’t usually kiss. Kissing was only to initiate sex which you have had plenty off over the past week even while Cillian was feeling rather depressed about what happened.

You knew that sex would get his mind of the pain Laura had caused him and you were more than willing to distract him from all the madness in his life.

In turn, sex led to you sharing a bed and, since you had sex every night and sometimes even during the day, you pretty much slept in the same room continuously for weeks on end. Sometimes you would stay in Cillian’s room while, on other nights, he would come to yours. It was almost like musical chairs.

But tonight, this was all about to change as, in the morning, you had just gotten your first period since you started being intimate with each other.

As such, you quickly apologised for the kiss you had just given him to ensure that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about your intentions.

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to initiate anything. I was just sneaking in a cheeky little kiss’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you quickly pulled away from the kiss.

‘No period sex then I suppose?’ Cillian joked, knowing very well that this was off the table for you even though he had explained to you that it wouldn’t bother him.

‘Absolutely not Cillian’ you giggled before reaching for some more of the pain killers on the kitchen counter.

‘Well, if you change your mind tonight, you know where my bedroom is’ Cillian winked and you couldn’t help but shake your head in disgust.

‘Trust me Cilly, I won’t’ you chuckled.

‘Alright then. No sex tonight. Got it’ Cillian chuckled before offering you to fill up your hot water bottle. ‘How about I fill this up for you, we have some wine, order some pizza and watch a movie?’ Cillian suggested as he took the hot water bottle from you.

‘That would be nice’ you said, smiling and wanting to kiss him again, but refraining from doing so for obvious reasons. You reminded yourself that you weren’t more than friends with benefits, regardless of the rumours out there which Laura had spread.

***

Half an hour later, you finally settled in the living room with your hot water bottle and two glasses of red wine.

Being so close to Cillian and unable to be intimate with him bothered you and you could see that it bothered him too as he tried hard to keep his hands to himself.

Occasionally, you felt his hand brush over the top of your cotton pants and then move away quickly as if he was a shy little school boy who was doing something naughty and who thought you wouldn’t notice.

It was strange, the fact that you both only ever showed affection towards each other while, before or after you were having sex. But then again, of course, it was normal considering your arrangement. You were friends and, if kissing wouldn’t turn you both on so incredibly much, you probably wouldn’t even be doing that in the bedroom.

But even just in that moment, where he was sitting next to you and was watching a movie with you, you wanted to kiss him desperately and a kiss was all you wanted.

You felt the urge to snuggle up against him and rest your head against his chest but you thought that this also would be inappropriate you restrained yourself from it for the remainder of the evening.

***

At around 10 o’clock, you finally called it a night. You were tired and exhausted and needed a good nights’ sleep.

Unfortunately for you, sleep was something you struggled with and it was when you lay in your bed for an hour, tossing and turning with your eyes wide open, that you realised what was missing.

It was the warmth which would normally radiate from Cillian’s body when you cuddled up against him and it was the scent of his skin you breathed in when laying in his arms.

Even if you couldn’t be intimate with him, you wanted to be near him, kiss him and cuddle him and feeling this way about him wasn’t something you were prepared for.

***

Little did you know that you weren’t the only one craving this kind of closeness and non-sexual intimacy. Cillian also was laying on his bed, restless and unable to sleep, realising that something was missing.

He adored the smell of your hair and the softness of your skin pressed against his. He loved spooning against you while you held his arms tight as he wrapped them around you.

He also loved the little sounds you were making in your dreams when there was clearly something pleasurable on your mind.

He soon realised that his efforts to simply fall asleep like this on his own were going to be futile and he decided to get himself another glass of water from the kitchen and settle with a book until he would be tired enough to go back to bed and try again.

***

‘Still up?’ Cillian asked as he walked into the kitchen and saw you filling up your hot water bottle again.

‘I can’t sleep’ you pouted while moving aside and allowing Cillian to fill up his glass.

‘Me neither’ Cillian then said before making a suggestion which could possibly change that.

‘Do you…uhm…want company…in bed?’ Cillian then shuddered somewhat reluctantly.

‘Cillian, I am not going to have sex with you, I told you that’ you said somewhat amused by the fact that he was still trying to convince you otherwise.

‘I didn’t mean for us to have sex Y/N’ Cillian then explained and your eyes widened immediately.

‘So, you mean just us sharing a bed to sleep?’ you asked confused, causing Cillian to nod.

‘Just to sleep and maybe kiss…if you want to’ Cillian said almost shyly.

‘Just kissing?’ you asked again, unsure about his motives.

‘Just kissing’ Cillian confirmed.

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

He’s Lost - Bakugou Katsuki - Part 3

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sexual mentions, smut, 18+, daddy kink, fingering (fisting?), f!receiving, alcohol, cursing, LONG WRITING PIECE, Bakusquad a teensy wheensy bit ooc, BAKUGOU BEING A BIG ASS SIMP

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: After the classroom moment, Katsuki’s been doing everything he can to get you back. You’ve both come to terms as friends who are mutually pining for one another, but how long will it take to finally be found by one another?

A/N: Y’all I just have to keep saying thank you to all of you. The love and support is incredible and I never expected my one shot to be so likeable. Anyways, this piece is what will bring the whole story together. Just HELLA fluff. Hope you enjoy!

A/N: If you guys are curious as to what I put for Y/N’s quirk, I’ve titled it Phoenix. She has all the abilities of a Phoenix, like fire powers, regeneration, and flight ability with beautiful wings of fire that can come out on command. Honestly, her quirk isn’t really a big deal in the story but if you wanted to know, there you go.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“I fucked her in the classroom,” Bakugou so calmly said while taking a sip from his water bottle.

Kirishima felt like he was gonna faint. He told his friend to talk to her so they could make up. He didn’t expect him to dick her down.

“Wow Kacchan, didn’t know you were an exhibitionist,” The electric blonde said while nudging Bakugou in the arm with his elbow.

“I’m not......well-“

“Katsuki” Kirishima said with a warning tone because he did NOT want to hear about his friend’s kinks.

“Right. Anyway, it was fine. No one was there...actually why weren’t you guys there? We all had class you idiots.” Bakugou asked.

“Mr. Aizawa told us the day before that we were going to meet up in gym gamma for an all day training sesh. So we were all shocked when one of our best fighters didn’t show.” Kirishima explained.

“Well nobody told me we were having an all day session.” Bakugou complained.

The group then raised their phones showing the texts sent to the group chat the boys of the Bakusquad shared.

8:47 a.m.

🦈 : Bakugou, tmr is all day training in the gym. Make sure you’re there

11:21 a.m.

🕷: You gonna be in the gym wit us tmrw Bakugou?

2:10 a.m.

⚡️: Sooo we’ll see u in the gym tmr Kacchan?

After some silence and Bakugou’s soft “oh,” Bakugou asked another question. “Well why wasnt Y/N there then?”

“Just like you, the girl wasn’t in class the day before so she didn’t know. She spent the day interning with Hawks.” Sero stated while taking a break from his bag of chips.

‘Hawks huh? Guess it made sense. You both had bird-like quirks, so you guys go well together’ The blonde thought to himself.

“But enough of why you weren’t there, tell us what happened with Y/N,” Sero added on.

“The hell? Why are you so invested in how I fucked her?” Bakugou said with attitude.

“Not that man,” Kirishima intervened, “we wanna know what happened after.”

“We also wanna know which desk you fucked on so we could avoid the cum splatter.” Kaminari said, earning a wack to the back of his head from Sero.

“Well I thought we were gonna make up and get back together,” Bakugou started and the trio of boys stared right at him as if he was going to open some buried treasure.

“But I guess she’s not ready for the relationship again. At least not yet. She said she wanted some time and then she’ll come back to me. All I gotta do is wait.” Bakugou said while getting comfortable in his spot on the common room couch.

“Says who?” Kaminari added.

“ ‘scuse me?” Bakugou asked.

“Who says all you gotta do is wait?” Bakugou looked at his idiotic friend.

“She did, Dunce Face.”

“Well you could wait for her, but if I was you, I’d still treat her like my girlfriend.” The electric blonde stated.

“Huh?” The entire group asked.

“Bakugou look. Give Y/N the time she wants, but you could still treat her like your girlfriend. It’ll remind her of the times you had and it’l-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there Kaminari.”

As the group turned towards the doorway, they saw Y/N. She seemed to have gotten back from some extra training considering she was still wearing gym attire and her duffel bag was still on her shoulder.

“Hey Y/N, just got back from the gym?” Kirishima kindly started up a conversation with the girl.

“Yeah. Had to take a shower there too to save some time. I’m heading back out to go on a late night patrol with Hawks after I drop off my bag, but I can spend 2 minutes to explain something to you, dorks.” You started walking towards the group, more specifically behind Bakugou’s seat.

“I’m gonna make this real simple. Katsuki and I don’t need a grand plan to get back together. We just need some time,” when you finally made it behind Bakugou, you gently wrapped your arms around Katsuki’s neck area, “besides, Suki knows I’ll always come back to him. He’s my one and only after all, right?” You said the last part while looking at Bakugou.

“Right.” Katsuki proudly replied.

You leaned in to give him a little hug from behind and pecked his cheek before walking off to your room.

Katsuki couldn’t help but smile and watch as you walked away. He knew you guys would end up back together. All he has to do is wait. But his moment was ruined by a certain dunce face.

“Damn dude, what the fuck kinda dick did you give her to get her to act like that with you?” He shockingly asked.

“SHUT UP!” Bakugou screamed as his two other friends laughed.

——————————————————————————

Ever since, Bakugou and You grew closer and closer. To others, it looked like exes who stuck to being friends. Best friends, if anything. Y’all played together as best friends, fought and bickered like best friends and looked out for each other and loved one another like best friends. But in reality, you and Bakugou were just falling for each other even more day after day. Yes, it was clear to you both that you were already in love with each other, but damn y’all didn’t know love could grow so strong.

Bakugou stuck to his word though. He was doing whatever it took to get you back, and yeah. Maybe he took a little bit of Kaminari’s advice and continued to treat you as his girlfriend. The only difference was that he didn’t and couldn’t claim you so it kinda hurt him but he was ok because he knows what’ll happen in the end.

So now we have this Bakugou who’s at your every beck and call, even when you don’t call. Thirsty in the middle of class? Bakugou’s got your favorite drink with him on standby. Craving something special? Bakugou will learn how to make it for you. Tired after a hard day’s work? The angry Pomeranian was there to carry you back to the dorms. What a simp.

——————————————————————————

*RIINNNGGGGGG*

And there goes the bell for class. As students walked into their respective rooms, the students of 1-A notice the two entering.

“And here comes Bakugou holding the door for his lady,” Kaminari spoke aloud.

“Hey man, they’re not dating, remember?” Sero reminded him.

“Yet. That’s the exciting part. 2 lovers, patiently waiting for each other. And Bakugou being so willing to drop everything just for Y/N, and Y/N willing to tussle through challenges for Bakugou. Ohh it’s so romantic!!” Mina said with a squeal and excitement.

“Bakubro really doesn’t want anyone else but her....they’re gonna get through this!” Kirishima hopefully said. “If they don’t I’ll beat his ass myself after all the shit I went through for this relationship. You know, THE RELATIONSHIP IM NOT EVEN IN!” He said loud enough for Bakugou to hear.

“Those idiots,” Bakugou growled. “CANT A GUY JUST SPEND SOME TIME WITH HIS GIRL WITHOUT SOME CRACKHEADS WHISPERING ABOUT US?!” He yelled at the group. But with that last comment, you raised your brow.

“So I’m your girl, huh?” You said with a sly demeanor.

This caused Katsuki to blush like crazy. “You know what I meant you little dumbass!”

“Yeah, I’m a dumbass. But apparently I’m your dumbass.” Your snide remarks were beginning to drive Katsuki crazy.

“Ok, that’s it!” With that, Bakugou grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the classroom before Mr. Aizawa came. As the 2 left the room, the boys of the Bakusquad knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Annnddd they’re they go. Off to a place of sweat and ecstasy.” Kaminari sighed.

Ever since that time in the classroom, you and Bakugou have had sneaky links here and there for the past few weeks. A little make out session in the kitchen, a little grinding in the common area, some receiving in many different places. However you were both cautious and made sure it never went beyond that. No vaginal penetration with a penis!

Though you both said you weren’t dating yet, it was obvious where you both would end up.

“What do you mean?” Mina asked.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about, just let them do them.” Kirishima explained.

Fortunately, only the Bakusquad boys were aware of these secret meetings. Once Bakugou told them of the classroom sex, they could tell whenever you two were interested in doing the deed with one another. They also steered clear from Bakugou’s desk. When they found out you both had gone to town on it, they made sure to never go near it unless they knew Bakugou cleaned it up thoroughly.

——————————————————————————

“Mm...Suki..” you breathed out in between the heated kiss.

Here we are in the storage closet. Y/N seated on top of a small standing shelf with Katsuki standing over her and his fist deep inside her.

Katsuki was in the process of marking your exposed breast and enjoying the feeling of your soft walls around his hand. He couldn’t help but speed up his movements.

“P-please....slow down-“ you were cut off by your own moan and cry of pleasure as his fist hit a sensitive area.

“Oh c’mon, you know you love it. You also know you shouldn’t have given all that sass. You knew exactly where it would lead ya,” he spoke as he continued to bite and suck at your nipples. “But I bet you wanted this, didn’t you. You little slut.”

His fist sped up even more and went deeper than before earning loud cries to leave your mouth.

“Ahh...fuck! Y-yes! I wanted this so bad...ohh shit Suki!” You cried out. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten and Katsuki knew what was coming right from the look on your face. He quickly pulled his fist out and dropped his head down to meet your glistening cunt, and continued to finish you off.

“Shit....you taste so sweet.” Katsuki couldnt help but eat you out as if you were his last meal. He groaned as your hands went to tug at his hair to push him in deeper. As he stuck his tongue out to enter inside you, your hips moved on their own and began to grind against his face.

“Yes...yess oh my god..just like that Suki please,”

Katsuki was desperate for more and so his hand went to your clit. He viciously rubbed at it until your legs began to shake.

“F-FUCK!... oh yess...ah!” You let out.

“Let me taste you....come inside my mouth like a good girl and let daddy taste you.” Katsuki demanded.

And you did just that. You released the white honey all on his tongue and Katsuki lapped at every drop, sucking you dry. As he finished his meal he kissed your cunt and continued to kiss you up your body from you stomach to your chest to your neck until he reached your lips. He gave you a passionate kiss, all tongue and love, and you could taste yourself. He was right. You were sweet.

——————————————————————————

During lunch, the Bakusquad, including Y/N, all ate together and had friendly conversations and arguments as usual.

“Man that steak hit the spot!” Kirishima exclaimed with a breath of satisfaction.

“I bet your already full too, huh Kacchan. Bet you already had your fill of Y/-“

*WHACK*

As the tray slowly slid off of Denki’s face after so rudely being thrown at him (curtousy of Sero) he was revealed to an angry Kacchan.

“Shut up dunce face!” Bakugou yelled.

“You’re one to talk Suki. If anyone should shut up, it should be the one with the booming voice.” You said as you ate your udon noodles.

“ME?!?” Bakugou exclaimed.

“Yes you ya dummy!” You retorted.

“You wanna go shitty woman?!?” Bakugou said while standing up now.

“Bring it on Blasty! I’ll take you on any day!” You replied while standing on top of your chair to beat his height.

‘Typical,’ the Bakusquad thought.

You guys would go from lovers to enemies in a split second with a besties vibe somewhere in between. The fun and teasing bickering went on like this for awhile and has been happening for awhile too. But at the end of the day, there was no real beef between you two of course. Just a mutual pining that involved some attitude.

“Man, you guys have so much energy. Cant you guys tone it down, we’re pretty sure you shouldn’t be so energized after you both just fu-“

*WHACK*

Sero was shut up with a tray (revenge from Denki) before he could finish his sentence and expose the soon to be lovers’s dirty secrets.

“I KNOW!” Mina popped up. “How about a beach day?” The pink alien girl suggested.

“Huh?” The entire group said while Y/N and Bakugou sat down again.

“A beach day! We all have pent up energy and some of us wanna relax so why not get everything out at the beach? Oou! And let’s go at night, it’ll be way cooler and so much more fun. Plus, that’s the best time for us to sneak out!” Pinkie explained.

“The hell do you mean sneak out dumbass? It’s a Friday, if we wanna go the beach, we can just go on Saturday, tomorrow.” Bakugou said.

“Jeez you moron, wheres the fun in that. Look this may seem a little wild since we’re hero trainees and all but how about we take a car to get to the beach?” Mina proposed.

“Mina, we’re under 18. We can’t drive.” Kirishima said.

“Legally. But Bakugou here knows how to drive! Remember that one time Mr. Aizawa made him pull the travel bus around the corner because he was too tired to bring it himself?” The alien girl reminded the group.

“Not only that, but Denki’s parents are outta town!” The girl added on.

“Oh yeah! We could totally take my Dad’s car! There’s definitely enough room in there!” Kaminari said.

The group was now starting to get excited. Except for one blonde of course.

“No way. Like you said Pinkie, we’re hero trainees. We can’t risk ruining ours or UA’s reputation just for some trip to the beach.” Bakugou said while downing his rice bowl.

“Aww c’mon man!”

“Whaaat but pleaseee!”

“Seriously dude?”

“Awwww :(“

The group all said in unison. But Bakugou wasn’t cracking. He wasn’t going to risk his career as a future pro just for a quick trip to some sand and sea.

That is until he felt a tugging on his sleeve. When he looked to his left he saw Y/N holding onto his sleeve with a pout and puppy dog eyes. His heart was about to blow.

“Please Suki?” You whined.

You basically embodied the “🥺” emoji. Bakugou had to turn away so he could deny your request.

“Mm mm” he said while staring out the window next to the table.

You let out a huff of frustration while looking towards your group of friends that were staring at you in desperation. You guys were going to get that beach day.

So you pulled onto Bakugou’s arm and pulled his side into your soft pillowy breast. You reached up and whispered into his ear to make sure no would could hear your next words. With a seductive voice, you spoke.

“Please daddy?”

——————————————————————————

And now here we are. The Bakusquad currently on a road trip to the beach at 9:45 p.m. Y/N riding shotgun, Mina and Kirishima in the seats behind you, Kaminari and Sero in the third row right infront of the trunk, and Bakugou behind the wheel. He was just thankful that there was almost nobody driving around here or else they would’ve noticed this young group of teens driving late at night. He was also very thankful that during lunch yesterday, nobody noticed his raging boner after Y/N whispered in his ear.

“Oh my gosh!! We’re almost there!” Mina squealed from behind.

Although it was almost 10, the weather was still really warm so it would be a fun night. Just the moon, the stars, the sand and sea, and your best friends. Perfection.

“Oh! Suki, you missed the turn for the shortcut.” You pointed out.

“No I didn’t dumbass, we’re taking another shortcut.” Bakugou replied.

“Umm, says who exactly?” You retorted.

“The one driving this damn car, now settle your fine ass down before I kiss you.” Bakubitch replied with.

“Ok, just because you add a little flirt and flare to your reply doesn’t mean your in the right.” You stated.

“Oh but I think it does.” Bakugou came back with.

“Oh! Okay Bakubitch, I don’t know who you think you’re getting smart with-“

“I know exactly who I’m getting smart with, teddy bear.” Katsuki said with a smirk on his face.

“.....Fight me. Fight me right now.” You deadpanned while obviously joking.

“I’ll beat your ass any day of the week you shitty woman-“

“Except you’ll LOSE Bakubitch.” You added.

“You wanna fight that bad, huh shitty woman?!” Bakugou now started yelling in a very Bakugou manner.

“I do! I really do Katsuki! Bring it on Explosion boy!” You said

As you and Bakugou started going at it with your words in the car, the squad was starting to get a little tired of this endless pining. JUST DATE EACH OTHER ALREADY. Mina finally snapped.

“OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT?.....I’m just gonna say it.” Mina started with.

‘Huh’ You looked behind you while Bakugou took glances from time to time in his mirror to see Mina as she spoke.

“Why don’t you cut the horse shit, and get to the part where you admit your feelings for each other?” She added on.

“WHAT?!”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh spare me, spare me, spare me!” Mina went on with. Then, Kirishima joined in.

“Yes yes Y/N, he’s a brute, I know-“

“Hey!” Bakugou interrupted but Kirishima just continued.

“He probably reminds you of a bad relationship and gosh you’d like a real nice man to settle down with,” he added on.

“But admit it! You’re real curious to know what he’s like in the sack nowadays!” Kaminari joined in.

“You idiots are dead meat,” Bakugou said.

“And you! HA!” Mina began to speak. “Well you’re just a big man baby who’d rather act tough then show his true feelings because the last time you opened your heart, you got hurt.....OWIE” Mina said in a baby voice.

“And now,” Sero began, “rather than admit these feelings, you’re dancing around one another with this mind numbing and frankly boorish mating ritual.”

Mina spoke once more.

“So PLEASE, for our sake, either quit your bickering, or PULL OVER, TEAR OFF THOSE CLOTHES, AND GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY!!!”

(Silence)

“Aye, I said what I said.” Mina concluded with her hands up at her side in defense.

As Bakugou and Y/N blushed ferociously, the squad behind them finally settled until Bakugou sped up, swerved the car and hit the brakes.....he was parking.

“Oh look, we’re here.” He said.

As he turned around to look at the group, he saw his friends all mixed up and thrown around the van.

“You guys good?” Y/N asked as she turned around in worry.

“Ugghhhhhh.” Her friends replied, clearly a little bruised.

“Alright then, let’s get going!” Y/N said with a sweet smile and exited the car.

——————————————————————————

After everyone had changed into their swim suits, everyone began setting up. The girls stayed behind with Denki to help set up the towels and seats and bring out the coolers, food, and tables. Bakugou, Kirishima, and Sero went out to collect firewood for the bond fire they were gonna make.

As you looked around the beach, you were glad that nobody was around. You guys could be as loud as you wanted, do what you wanted, and just have an awesome night. And the fact that this was a wild beach meant that there was so much more to do. You guys could go cliff diving, mountain climbing, or forest roaming. No lifeguards to stop you.

As the guys came back with fire wood, Mina and Denki pulled out the cooler.

“Hey guys~, guess what we have!” Mina said.

The group watched as Denki pulled out various beers, wine coolers, and a bottle of Hennessy and shot cups.

“Alcohol?” Kirishima asked, “where’d you guys get that.”

“We grabbed it outta my garage fridge. My family likes to turn up a lot so we also got some spares hanging around,” Kaminari explained.

You guys weren’t first time drinkers. You were high schoolers and you’ve been to parties so of course you guys have already had your first taste of alcohol. Hell, even Bakugou had some before. What can he say, he couldn’t help himself after he saw his friends seem to be enjoying themselves a little too much after getting drunk the first time.

As you started the fire with your quirk, everyone else began to get comfy near the blazing flame. Denki was the last to sit since he went to grab his acoustic guitar to play some tunes. When he finally sat down he began to sing a song.

“Let’s sit around the campfire and sing our campfire song! Our C-A-M-P—“

“NO!” The group all yelled.

“Oh alright!” The electric blonde huffed.

The group all laughed and Kaminari then began to play a chill melody on the instrument. The group was happy, laughing, enjoying themselves and having so much fun...well one of them did have something on their mind but nonetheless still enjoying themselves.

Faces were being stuffed with delicious food, alcohol was being passed around, rounds of shots were being downed like water, and everyone was having a good time. A little game of truth or dare started up and ended after Kaminari and Kirishima both threw up in separate bushes after being dared to kiss each other by Mina.

“Never again,” Kaminari said.

“Yeah I’m good with never having to get kisses from my bro again.” Kirishima sighed.

“Oh whatever you big wussies. It was a fun game while it lasted.”

Everyone laughed in agreement.

“Alright well,” Sero spoke, “we all came to the beach, why don’t we get to the main event. I’m gonna go for swim, you guys in?”

As everyone agreed they all started walking to the water. Well except for two people. As Y/N was walking to the shoreline, a hand stopped her as it grabbed onto her arm.

“You idiots go, me and Y/N are gonna join you later.” Bakugou said to the group and they all said their ok’s and went in. “You, come with me.”

As you and Bakugou walked back to the car, he asked you a question.

“So..you’re not drunk are you?” He asked precautiously.

“Just a little tipsy but I’m still in control. Still aware of everything, so no. I’m not drunk.” You answered.

“Ok cool.” He said as he got into the driver’s seat. Once you finally got in and buckled up, he drove off. In the middle of the drive, you asked him a question this time.

“Hey Suki? Where are we going?”

“I found a special place while I was looking for wood. I wanna show you.” He simply stated.

As he continued to drive off to wherever you rested your hand on the center between you and Bakugou and let your face sit in your right palm as you stared out the window. The songs playing throughout the car gave it a loving and chill vibe. You enjoyed the comfortable silence.

As you continued to stare off, you felt Bakugou’s hand intertwine with yours. You looked back and saw he was blushing while holding onto the steering wheel and staring at the road. Man, he was so hot. In nothing but his swimming trunks as he leaned into his chair and drove off. His defined abs and chiseled chest was definitely eye candy. His giant veiny hand gripped the wheel and his jaw was so sharp as he turned and looked around for other drivers. Yeah, Bakugou was definitely one of those people that looked attractive as hell when they began to drive. You looked down at your hands and squeezed his. You were really enjoying this car ride.

When the car came to a stop, you finally noticed how you were in the middle of the forest.

“Where are we Suki?” You asked him.

As he grabbed your hand he spoke, “just follow me teddy bear.”

You guys walked for what felt like a good thirty minutes until you came across.....a cave?

“I know it doesn’t seem like much but wait until you see the inside.” Bakugou said. As you walked in, you finally realized where he took you. A gorgeous crystal cave. Its colors were shining and its gems were sparkling. All the walls were covered except for the top where there seemed to be an opening. It was letting all the moonlight enter the cave causing the crystals to sparkle even more, including the giant pool of water at the center of the cave.

“Suki it’s beautiful,” you said in awe.

“Yeah, knew you’d like it,” He began.

You both sat down at the edge of the pool just dipping your legs in and enjoying each other’s company.

“Y/N.” Bakugou said.

“What’s up Suki?” You asked.

“I can’t help but keep thinking back to what Mina and the others said in the car.” He admitted.

“What? About pulling over and tearing off each other’s clothes?” You chuckled.

“No. About our feelings for each other.” Bakugou said as he just stared at the pool.

“Oh. That.” You calmly said with a hidden smile and soft blush.

Bakugou grabbed onto your hand before speaking again.

“Y/N I really, really, really, really, really love you....a lot. And I’m so sorry for everything I said and did,” Bakugou started.

“Suki....” you softly said while looking at him. You noticed he was staring down at your arm where your now tiny burn mark was. A scar that won’t be forgotten and a memory that was permanently burned into your skin. Literally.

You saw how Bakugou cringed at the sight of it.

“I am so, so sorry for everything. I don’t even know what I could say that could even make up for what I did. Every night memories of what happened keep coming back to me and I’m still in complete shock that I could even do that. To you of all people! The love of my life....I’m just really glad that you said you’d come back to me and that you gave me another chance to get close with you again. I know I said I would wait for you for as long as it takes but I don’t wanna wait anymor-“ Bakugou was cut off as you raised his head to give him a deep kiss. As he kissed you back, Bakugou put everything he couldn’t say as words into that kiss, hoping you’d understand.

When you finally pulled away, you leaned your forehead onto his while staring into his ruby eyes.

“I don’t want to wait anymore either, Suki.”

With that, Bakugou gave you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. He pulled you in for another kiss and a tight hug.

“So....you’re mine again?” He asked.

“I was always yours Suki. You’re my one and only after all, right?” You teased.

“Right.” He proudly stated. Katsuki Bakugou finally got his girl back. He finally got his love of his life and his teddy bear. His world felt like it came back together again and he no longer felt lost.

After you both spent more time in the cave, exploring, finding all the gems, and enjoying your renewed and fixed love, you and Bakugou found yourselves back in the same spots you were sitting in when you first arrived.

With his eyes closed, chin resting on your head, and an arm wrapped around your waist, with you cuddled into his side and leaned onto his chest, you had a realization.

“Oh hey, Suki.” You said.

“What’s up teddy bear?” He asked with his eyes still closed.

“We never got to go swimming” you said with a pout.

As he opened one eye to look at you, he noticed your adorable pout and the simp in him came out along side with the devil.

“Alright then princess, let’s go for a swim. We have this crystal pool all to ourselves so why not?”

As you gleamed with excitement, you excitingly got up to jump into the water but before you could, Katsuki stopped you.

“Not so fast princess. Our little game of touch and tease is over now since your mine again. I wanna make up for lost time,” he said with a smirk.

“So you’re saying...?” Y/N asked confused.

“We’re going skinny dipping.”

At first it shocked you but then again, this is Katsuki we’re talking about. So you played his little game.

“Maybe your game of touch and tease is over but mine is still running.” You said with a smirk as you walk towards him. You placed your hand on his toned abs as you began speaking again.

“You wanna go skinny dipping Katsuki?” You then slowly went up to whisper in his ear.

“Then let’s get in daddy.”

As you walked away from him you started to undress yourself in a seductive manner. You started with your bikini top, pulled on the string to untie it and tossed it to the side. As you stepped to the pools edge, you did the same to your bikini bottoms and looked over at Katsuki. You didn’t fully face him as you spoke, but as you were holding up your chest pretending to cover yourself up, you showed just enough cleavage to get him riled up.

“You coming or not?” You teasingly asked before you stepped into the water letting its surprisingly warm temperature surrounded you. You had an idea and used your quirk to turn the pool into a hot spring. As the steam surrounded you, a blush from the heat began to show on your face and Bakugou couldnt hide his hard on inside his thin trunks. He undressed himself and entered the now spring.

A/N: YALL I DIDNT REALIZE HOW LONG THIS WAS SO THERE WILL BE A PART 4 COMING OUT RIGHT AFTER THIS ONE. I LITERALLY CANT TYPE ANY MORE SO STAY TUNED!!!

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spencer-reids-adventures · 3 years

Note

Hello, I don’t have a prompt or nothing cuz I’m not that mentally creative, but !!!! can i pls get autistic Reid with Morgan angst and like a frens to luvers fic blurb thingy? god im terrible at this I’m sorry 🙈

(you are certainly not terrible at this and i love this prompt!!)

Also this ended up longer than I expected so it's posted on AO3 also!

Spencer Reid is excellent at reading victims, witnesses, suspects, and unsubs - it's what he does for a living, after all - which makes it all the more frustrating that he can't read Derek Morgan. At least, not what he wants to read about Derek Morgan, which is whether he shares the same feelings as Spencer. The fluttery-tummy, the smiling every time he hears his voice, the pining.

At first he hopes the feelings will go away - that it's just a silly crush, and he'll move on. But after three years working together, the feelings are stronger than ever, and that's when he decides he needs to do something about it.

So when the team is going to a club one night after work to let off some steam, and Derek asks Spencer specifically if he'll come this time - even though Spencer never comes out with them - this time he gives in and says yes.

He changes at home beforehand, hoping if he makes himself look "normal" then maybe acting "normal" will come easier to him. He puts on his one pair of jeans and a soft fitted purple t-shirt he bought to wear on a date once, and he switches his contacts for his glasses, because his eyes are tired. In the interest of "normalcy," he leaves his satchel at home, carrying only his phone and wallet in his pockets.

"Pretty boy!" Derek calls when Spencer walks in the door. "You made it!"

Spencer tries to focus on Derek's voice, his smile, his apparent happiness at seeing Spencer, and ignore the loud music, flashing lights, and crowds of people that have him immediately on edge. He waves to the rest of the team, who are all dancing, and walks over to stand next to Derek at the bar.

"What are you drinking?" Derek asks, and Spencer tries to weigh whether alcohol will make this better or worse. He decides he'd rather be in control as much as possible.

"Shirley Temple," he says, and when Derek laughs, it's friendly, not mean.

They take their drinks to a table, and Spencer realizes he should have brought his bag, if only to have the strap to fidget with, or one of the soft pieces of flannel he keeps inside to rub against his skin. Instead, he taps his feet and pretends he can hear what Derek is saying over the noise, and when he invites Spencer to come dance, Spencer says he'll catch up in just a moment. The minute Derek is gone, Spencer bolts.

He heads to the bathroom first, locking himself in a stall and covering his ears, trying to block out the thumping bass that feels like it's pressing in on him from all sides. He has a headache from all the perfumes and colognes and drinks and sweat and he lifts up the bottom of his shirt and holds it over his nose, trying to breathe through it like a filter. The flashing lights are gone, but one of the bulbs in the bathroom is flickering, and every part of this is too much.

Spencer finally decides that if this is what it's going to take to get Derek's attention, he might as well give up on ever being with him, because he absolutely, positively cannot do this. He doesn't even realize how hard he's punching his arm until it turns dark red, like it's about to bruise, and it's the last straw because even the bad stims aren't helping, and he can feel himself starting to fracture, lose the single thread he still seems to be hanging by.

He sneaks out the back door of the club and runs all the way home, keeping his focus on the way his leg muscles feel, and the slap of his Converse on the sidewalk, and the wind in his hair, and it's not until he's back in his apartment, huddled in his closet, screaming into one pillow and punching a pile of others, that he even thinks to check his phone.

From: Morgan Hey Pretty Boy, where'd you take off to?

From: Morgan Kid, seriously, where are you?

From: Morgan No one else has seen you and I checked the bathroom. Tell me you're okay

From: Morgan Spencer, you're really freaking me out

Missed call from: Morgan (11)

"Fuck!" Spencer screams into the pillow, and it's the last straw.

He throws his phone across the room and starts to rock forward and backward, hard enough that his head slams against the wall, flapping his hands as hard as he can, losing himself in shame and frustration and rage and humiliation.

He doesn't hear the knock at the front door, and the doesn't hear the door open, and he doesn't hear anybody enter the room, and when his hand hits something warm and solid he just punches it, and when he rocks back and his head hits a pillow instead of the wall, he starts to scream, and then to cry, and when he finally tires himself out, he collapses on the wood floor and falls asleep, and still doesn't realize there's someone else there, someone who carefully picks him up and lays him on his bed, removing his shoes and laying a blanket over him.

Spencer doesn't sleep for long, and when he wakes, Derek is sitting in the armchair in the corner, reading one of his books.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Spencer asks, trying to piece together the last several hours and finding no memory of inviting Derek over.

"You scared me, kid," Derek says, putting the book down. "You disappeared without saying anything, you didn't answer your texts or my calls. I thought something had happened to you! I was about to call the police before I figured I should check your apartment first. By the way, don't leave your front door unlocked."

"I don't usually," Spencer mumbles.

"What happened?"

"I just had to get out of there," he tries to explain. "It was-- everything was too much, and I thought I could be normal for one night but I was wrong, and I'm sorry I ruined your night--"

"You didn't ruin my night," Derek says. "Is that why you never want to come out to the clubs with us? Because it's... too much?"

"I get sensory overload," Spencer says quietly. "And I left my bag at home."

"Your bag?"

"I carry things that help. So I don't flip out like this all the time, especially on cases."

Morgan nods and moves from the armchair to the foot of the bed, where Spencer is now sitting up, still wrapped in the blanket.

"And when you got home?" Derek asks carefully. "When I got here, you were, uh..."

"I can't-- I can't talk about this right now, Derek," Spencer says desperately. "Can you just, I don't know, Google autism when you get home?"

"Yeah, of course I can," Derek says, raising an eyebrow. "If I'd known, I would have done that a long time ago."

"You didn't know? Really?"

"No, I just... I don't know. Thought you were--"

"Weird?"

"Quirky," Derek says. "But now that I know, I'll learn about it. And you can always share things, if you feel like it. If you think they would be helpful for me to know."

"Why do you care so much?" Spencer blurts out. "You don't have, like, an obligation to take care of me, just because you know now. You can pretend this never happened."

"I care about you," Derek says, moving closer to sit next to Spencer on the bed. "I care about you a lot, Spencer."

"Y-you do?"

"More than I should, maybe," he says with a small laugh. "I've cared about you since the minute I first saw you."

"Care about me like... the way friends care about each other?" Spencer whispers, and when Derek shakes his head no, Spencer reaches for his hand.

"If I'd known clubs were so painful for you, I would have invited you somewhere else. I just wanted to spend time with you. I always want to spend time with you."

"Derek," Spencer says, squeezing his hand, and before he can lose his nerve, Spencer leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth.

He pulls back and blinks a few times, waiting for Derek to tell him he's got the wrong idea, that he should leave, that this was all a misunderstanding. Instead, Derek leans in and kisses him back, deeper.

"I thought I'd never get to do that," Spencer murmurs.

"Me too," Derek replies.

"Can we-- do you want to go on, like, a coffee date with me?" Spencer asks. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"I'd like that very much. That, uh, doesn't mean we have to stop kissing now, though, does it?"

"Absolutely not." Spencer smiles, pulling Derek closer and deciding that maybe "normal" is overrated.

#cw self harm #cw meltdown #autistic spencer reid #derek morgan #maya writes more than 5 sentences #maya's autistic spencer collection #maya's spencer whump collection #maya's moreid collection

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

Where Harry's five years old bubba gets lost in a park while playing hide and seek. You help her to find her daddy.

Warning: Emotional and whole lot of fluff <3

Pastel tutu frock, a lil bucket hat and shoes that makes 'puch.' 'puch.' noises when she waddles with her adorable toddler gait chasing her father.

It's still early in the morning less people more relieved Harry that he could spent some affectionate time with his lovin' little girl of four out in the park, as a single father he dresses her with more fashion indulgment than any mother could.

Cheeky smug He's. Kinda proud of it.

They were playing hide and seek a bit far from their picnic basket ontop of checkered blanket along her toys. She came all the way from their home to car and car to park sitting on her daddy's shoulders.

"Dawwy! That's cheatin'." She stomped her dainty feet into sodden lush grass underneath and Harry grinned booping her button nose just like his's, "cheeky bugger." He watched her in amusement when she caught his slender finger with her chubby ones, pouting cutely at him.

"Kay. lovie' we're gonna play, again." He assured her raising his palms in air taking two steps back at once, "this time no cheatin', promise." She bobbed her head enthusiasticly running to hide behind the nearest largest oak tree as her daddy told her not to go too far from him ever.

Harry was rounding her from other side when too impatient she went to found Harry on other side, "daw'wy!?" Her flight of run like a dove in sky was startled when she found her tall, curly head daddy nowhere in sight.

She toddled further away even though Harry has instructed her never to leave a certain place no matter what, her daddy would find her at the same spot if something happens.

"Bubba? love bug'?" He frowned as his daughter who just hid behind the same bark vanished. Not getting anxious he strided back to their spot but she wasn't there.

She has come so far away in search of her daddy at first she told herself that "she's daddy's big girl." . "she would get back to him and he'd give her alot of kisses." But then she got scared seeing alot of people here and there. Her ending point of bravery was when some little pal hit her with soft ball.

The pool of tears bursted like rainfall from her soft warm eyes, staining her coral chunky cheeks and she rubbed her glossy eyelids with the back of her hand with series of hiccups making her vision more blurry.

You were sitting under a shade reading a copy of Little Women. Eyes flickering when you poked your tongue out to collect some moist on your finger to turn the paper, right then your eyes fell over the cutest fuzz of a lil girlie crying with painful fat tears waddling her way lost towards the pond and with a loud gasp you left everything running towards her before she was too close to it.

"Hey. hey kiddo." You reached at the mean time quickly scooping her up in your arms and she sobbed out loudly, "dawwy!" You stroked her hair as she snoggled her snotty nose and moist face in the crook of your neck.

"Honey are you lost?" You tried to calm her down by rubbing soothing circles at her back and she nodded with incoherent blabbering.

"Lemme me help you, yeah? Do you know your parent's names." You asked her politely taking her back to where you were sitting under the large tree and she pulled her face out murmuring a tiny, "yesh." You beamed at her giving her a thumbs up.

"You're doing so good, darlin'." You tucked her loose curls under her ear and she tells you her father's name, "Hawwy. S'tyles." She doesn't have her way with 's and t's.' sounds so it was 'yles.' coming from her mouth and you had to comprehend it yourself.

"Honey you know his number?" She counts on her fingers as Harry made her learn his phone number in case of any emergency like this but she's so anxious she forgot, silent tears again spilling out from her struggle. "Sh. sh. lovie'. S'okay, you're okay. you're safe with me." You cooes at her softly wiping her tears and kissing her cheeks gently rocking her on your knees.

"B-but. dawwy!" She hiccups badly and you made her sip water, feeling pitiful for the poor bub.

"Bubs we're gonna find your daddy, yeah? you and me together are a whole power puff team!" You again rock her cheerfully standing up with her on your hip. Taking the challenge on yourself to find her daddy in no less time.

On the other hand Harry was loosing his mind. He pulled at his hair anxiously, worry drowning him into deep. Scared for his bubba. She's so little im this huge park. Harry never lets her dodge from under his wings and now he's on verge of getting a panic attack. He should have never came to park. He went from one person to another showing his petal's picture to them hands trembling as he did so.

"Sh-she's fou'. Little pink hat, tutu frock. Chocolate c-curls in specific." He gesticulated voice wavering and with everyone denying he went absolute crazy.

Tears glistening in his eyes and he's feeling as if he'd stop breathing. Putting his hand over where his heart is he took long strides of the whole park which's too big and in the end he fell on his knees with a thud onto grass when he couldn't find his only life, the piece of his heart nowhere. Sobbing loudly that made him bent outwards.

They live near by so he quickly dialed gemma. When she heard him sobbing onto speaker she abruptly stood up scaring Anne too, "Harry what happened?" She asked worriedly.

"Harry talk to me." She tried in a calming voice and he stuttered even causing Gemma to lost her breath, "d-dovie. lost her gem. fuckin' lost her. Couldn't find her." She was quick to act not telling Anne and assuring her she would in their car ride.

Harry was falling into his mum's embrace when they rushed to security department where Harry's at as the cops assured him that they'll find his daughter safe and unharmed.

He whimpered soaking her shirt. Whole body shaking, "can't lost her mum, she's the only one I've." She tried to calm him getting rid of her own tears.

"S'been two hours I've been searching her like a mad man. I'll fuckin' die if somethin' happens to her." At this Anne scolded him as gemma hugged him reassuring him. "It's m'fault. All m'fault." His tears and emotions were all where and he blamed himself.

"Shit father. never gonna forgive myself." Anne sighed shakily stroking his head. She has never seen her son crippling to this edge.

"She's fine. We'll find her."

Your back sweaty as the sun shines on you mercilessly while you hurriedly walked with Dove on your hip, her head on your shoulder resting sadly while you fanned her continuously with the paper fan and you breathed hunching a little seeing that some security department's few steps away from you. But, it's the one opposite from where Harry and his family are.

You immediately went to first table not waiting for your breaths to get back to normal, "hi. This's Dove Styles. Four. Lost." You informed them and they made you sit at the bench.

She was getting all tired and limpy from the crying. So you took her in your lap tucking her head under your armpit, "daddy's soon gonna come okay dove darlin'? Then he's gonna collect you fuzz baby in his arms." You took out a box of juice from your backpack tapping the straw against her rosy lips and you took in her features thinking how beautiful her daddy must be to her be this cute.

Even though her daddy has sternly taught her never to accept things from strangers but the poor babe's so exhausted she did.

Some cop came cop telling you they've found her daddy that he's at the other security building but you shook your head stubbornly squeezing her near to your chest. Because well you don't trust anybody not even the cops, most importantly not when it's a child.

"Tell her daddy to come take his child from here." The cop grunts at you. "Annoying lady." but you ignored him checking on dove cleaning her hands that were sticky from her drinking juice like how toddlers do.

You were hot on your feet when three panicked figures came rushing inside Dove on your hip and you asked her, "is that your da—" but you were cut off from her yearning cry.

"Dawwy!" It was like sky and ground meeting as Dove latched into Harry's arms, he was too ripped to shreds and with a loud whimper he feel stingingly onto tiled floor firm grip around his dovie's neck, forearm wrapped around her little body protectively. He clutched onto her for dear life, sponging endless kisses to her visible skin.

"Thought I lost ye' bubba...really thought–" He said in between wet kisses his tears smudging her cheeks and the duo's reunion infront of you made you sentimental too. "Never scare daddy like this dove. m'heart stopped." She muttered a 'sowwy.' At his anxious rambling.

"Forgive me, dovie. Daddy's bad." She shook her head. The four year old's too soft from heart to know what emotions are scowling at her daddy with her chubby palms pushing into his cheeks, "no dada." You smiled at her when she glanced back at you.

"Y/n helped mew. She say we were power puff girls." You chuckled that she still remembers ruffling her hair, "see? Told ya daddy was gonna find you." Harry rubs his nose wiping his tears standing up.

"Thank you so much, can't thank you enough." You found his voice so mellow even after hoarseness, "s'okay. She's safe that all matters." Anne and gem nodded while talking to Dove in baby voices telling her how worried they all got.

You were walking outside while talking to Harry, "and thank ye' fo' not trusting anybody you know...and no' lettin' her go." You assured him shaking his hand.

"No problem." You leaned down a little kissing her cheek, "and dove honey never go near to ponds, yeah?" She said a lil 'okie." wrapping herself tight around her father.

"Oh my god, dovie?" He asked her horrid at what could happen taking her chin but you quickly rambled not wanting to make him feel more panicked and anxious.

"She was crying and in haze that's why, she's okay now Mr. Styles."

"I owe you y/n. And please just call me, Harry." You nodded sheepishly now. Muttering a what the hell you fool at yourself and gemma quipped.

"Yes. Please have lunch with us?"

"Pwease?" You laughed out aloud at dove's innocent pleading deciding to let your English class go and bobbing your head at which Harry grinned, "perfect."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #cute harry #fluff #harry angst #harry smut #hsh #imagines #harry #angst with a happy ending

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junquisite · 3 years

Text

Escapades

WORD COUNT : 2.1K

WARNING : Suggestive

GENRE : Con Artist AU

She was staring at the mirror, trying to tie her hair up in a decent style when a pair of hands creeped from behind around her waist and she felt lips brushing on her bare neck.

“This dress is too showy. I don't want him to touch you in this.” Seungwoo mumbled in her neck and she smiled at his reflection.

“Just one more day.” she whispered as his grip tightened on her waist and slid down slowly, lower with each passing second. She felt the brush of lips turning to kisses and she sighed.

“You can't leave a mark Seungwoo. We can't ruin everything today at this point.” Byul whispered and Seungwoo groaned but unwillingly pulled away. He stared at her back as she dressed up, saw her putting on the heavy necklace that old man gifted her and imagined the different ways he can have his way with her with her only wearing that necklace.

“What are you thinking of? Get your mind out of the gutter.” she said with a small smile playing on her lips which Seugnwoo returned slowly.

“How do you know what i was thinking of?” he asked as he went down on his knees to help her wear the new pair of heels she got with the expensive designer dress she was wearing, by none other than that old man who’ll have his hands around her soon. He decided he’ll make her keep the heels on too with the necklace.

“You just get this look on your face, I can tell it from far away.” Byul said as his hands slowly raised away from her ankle to her knees.

“You said no where where he can see right?” Seungwoo mumbled with his lips pressed against her thighs visible from the high slit of the dress till her mid thighs, his hands slowly creeping up and under the dress, dangerously close to where she wanted him badly.

“We need to go down.” she whispered and then gasped, her hand coming up to her lips to not let the sound pass as she felt him bite at her inner thighs. She heard him chuckle and looked down to see him peeking from in between her dress and whined as he went back in and she felt his lips trailed the inside of her thighs.

There was a knock on the door which made her curse as she quickly looked at it and breathed a sigh of relief when saw it locked from the inside.

“Who is it?”

“Miss. Kim, Mr. Kang is expecting you down.” Byul heard from outside and heard Seungwoo curse softly as he separated himself from her.

“I’ll be down in 10 minutes.” she responded and heard the servant scurry off.

She turned to see Seungwoo wearing his tie and went to straighten it as he smiled down at her.

“Ready to go Miss. Kim Jisoo?” Seugnwoo asked Byul and she smiled.

“I am. Are you ready Mr. Im Jongin?” she asked and he nodded as he gave her his hand and she grabbed it, a soft smile gracing her lips as they left the room and separated their hands - him taking his place behind her.

“Aaah there she is, the bride of the hour!” a lady almost shouted as Byul reached the main party area and she smiled as she approached the lady standing with her to-be husband, Seungwoo a close step behind her.

“Jisoo-ah, you need to wear this all the time now.” the man she was supposed to marry said as she smiled and took the ring box and put on the 6 carat diamond ring as the lady beside her gasped.

“That's an impressionable diamond I must say.” she said and Byul smiled, she could practically hear the envy in her voice.

“Mr. Kang was nice enough to buy the ring my heart was set on.” she said as she felt the man slip his arm around her and felt Seungwoo stiffen behind her.

“And who's that if i may ask?” the lady asked Pointing at Seungwoo and Byul heard the old man beside her scoff.

“He’s the kind caretaker of my Jisoo here. He’s Jongin, a caretaker and a brotherly figure for Jisoo sent by her family.” he said and Byul smiled.

“Your family must be rich enough to have a caretaker for you?” the lady asked and Byul waved her hand. “It’s just something they thought i must always have - some sort of protection.” and pulled herself away from the old man and bowed at them.

“I’ll be taking my leave for now.” and went away, Seongwoo following her behind.

“Caretaker. I’ll never get used to it.” he mumbled as she strayed to a corner with a non-alcoholic drink in her hand, him behind her like a shadow as she surveyed the room.

“It's perfect. You can always stay with me.” she whispered as she saw one of the servers coming to her with an empty tray and bow at Seungwoo who carefully passed an envelope full of money to him.

They saw as he disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a tray full of drinks and started serving them, the drinks blood red and tempting.

“Aaah I think he have had one too many drinks.” one of the ladies chimed, equally red faced as the one beside her - barely able to stay straight on their feet but sober enough to comment about others. Typical rich people behaviour Byul thought as she tried to stop her to-be husband’s wandering hands - t Least in front of the wicked ladies.

“I think it’ll be best if i take him to bed.” Byul said but one of the ladies grabbed his hand.

“Let your caretaker take him, have one more drink with us dear Jisoo!” the lady said and Byul threw Seungwoo a helpless look who just smiled at her but she could sense the smirk under it.

“Take care of him Jongin-ssi!” one of the younger ladies said and Byul refrained herself from openly glaring at her - her looks were not decent, she was practically undressing Seungwoo with her eyes.

1 hour and only one drink for herself later, Byul managed to send all the guests away. The servants were given a night off to cool off before the stress of the wedding starts from the next day and they were finally home alone - her, Seugnwoo and the old 40-something man she was supposed to marry.

Detective Park rang the bell of the huge house and wondered if calling it a mansion would be better as the door opened to reveal a clearly tired servant and went inside to see the mood getting gloomier with every step.

A 40-something man - Kang Harin, CEO of a small but flourishing fishery business in the particular area, was throwing a child-like tantrum in his expensive looking but bare living room.

“That bitch took everything! She left nothing! She even took my designer suits!” The last line would have made the detective laugh if he didn't know that one of those suits was probably more then his monthly paycheck.

“Mr. Kang, I'm Detective Park, if you can just list all the items missing? You can add more stuff later but off the top of your head, what all is missing?”

The detective would have been dumb to ask what hapepend. He knew what happened. It was not the first time something like this took place - he has been monitoring other similar incidents that happened in other small parts of south korea in the past 7 years.

A couple - one of them would woo a rich person, the other some sort of person taking an important role - enough to be let around all the time but not important enough to be shifted the focus on to. And then before the marriage they'll disappear - with everything the person owned that was worth anything. The material would be later found out at different pawn shops stating they never took any stuff to be caught but only took the money.

An on duty officer came to him and handed him a list and he went through it - the list of articles stolen as of now. It had everything on it- from the jewellery to cash from the locker, cash from the hidden locker, gold from the office, electronics like mobiles and even the computer from the office, TV set and some of the small kitchen equipments, a couple of suits from the man’s closet, all of the designer bags and heels, all the jewellery he ever brought her and all the jewellery he owned (chains and rings) and even a few of expensive vases and art pieces that hanged on the wall. They left nothing!

“And there are no pictures left?” the detective asked the officer.

“We even questioned the visitors from yesterday's parties. No one had any pictures and one girl claimed to have clicked some but she said her phone stopped working in the morning suddenly. Some virus. Traces of the same virus were found in the security camera monitors of here and near this house and in the computer left with the message.” the officer said and detective Park raised an eyebrow, a message was new.

He went to the said laptop, apparently it won’t work but stuck on the screen it was showing. A picture of a Napkin with a kiss stain at the corner saying, It was fun but this was last. See you never!

He wondered vaguely if it was a message for him rather than the old man since he was the leader of a team made specifically to work on their case. Then he wondered if this was actually true and their last crime.

“So we again have nothing?” he asked the detective who had followed him.

“The man claims that they looked exactly like the sketches we have from the cases before just different hair? And roles too apparently. She was a lady of an old family and he was her caretaker. Names were Kim Jisoo and Im Jongin.” and Park sighed.

“Let's get going then. There's nothing more for us here.”

A week later

“Can I see your passport miss?” the airhostess at the entryway asked and Byul passed hers. Kang Daeum, it read.

“And yours sir?” Seungwoo passed his passport, the name reading Jung Jihoon.

“Have a safe flight ma’am, sir.” the hostess said and bowed down and they bowed back.

The clicks of her high designer heels were loud in the silent hallway to board the plane.

“Can't believe you kept those heels.” Seungwoo muttered from beside her as she smiled at him.

“You first decided at the pawnshop that you wanted to keep the necklace.” she said, her eyes no doubt holding the teasing that Seungwoo knew was bound to come behind her sunglasses. But he would never accept he was jealous.

“I like it though. You can keep on the heels too with the necklace whenever we get to the hotel.” he said, smirking as she lowered her sunglasses to stare at him, “Only those things on you though.” he ended, her hand shooting up to hit him on the chest, ready to yell if not for being at a public place as he chuckled.

After showing their boarding pass and settling down in the first class seats, he turned to her when she sighed, sliding down slightly in the comfortable chairs.

“Maybe you should consider dying your hair, I like this on you.” he said as he tugged at the blond wig she had on and she shrugged.

“Why not. We’re going to Bali, might as well look tropical.” she said and he laughed.

“Why not pink then?” he suggested and she smirked at him. “Only if you do blue.” and he smiled.

“Deal.”

It was late, night Seungwoo assumed since it was dark but who knows where they exactly were. All he knew was there was a vast expanse of water underneath the plane and the flight still had more than 7 hours left.

He saw on the side Byul shutting down her laptop.

“Are you tired?” he asked and she blinked at him taking out her headphones and shrugging.

“I can use some sleep.”

“I have other plans.” Seungwoo said as his hands sneaked underneath the blanket she had on her lap, squeezing her thighs as she looked at him, surprised.

“How do you feel about joining Miles high club?”

The smile that adorned her lips said she was in, and when she got up leaving the blanket behind, asking the air hostess where the restrooms were and winking at him before leaving, Seungwoo knew he had hit the jackpot with her.

Bali would be amazing, he whispered as he got up himself.

#victonwriters #victon smut #seungwoo smut #x1 smut #victon seungwoo #han seungwoo #victon scenarios #victon scenario #seungwoo scenarios #han seungwoo smut

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willowistic22 · 3 years

Text

Red (Redfinch)

Despite their breakup, Albert still wanted to go see Finch perform in one of his concerts when Race asked him if he wanted to come. This is the perfect chance for them to talk things out again but words aren’t cooperating for either of them. With that, Finch decides to triy a different form of communication.

Words : 5233

Part : -

Warnings : Alcohol, cursing, cigarettes, angst in general

A/N : Woah that’s a crazy word count uhh,,,, hi i’m back with another fic. Another redfinch and for that we stan lol (well idk maybe yall are annoyed by all these redfinch fics but yknow what? i’m thriving off of it) But fr I’ll eventually get into writing other ships but for now have one more redfinch combined with another tswift songs (as you do) this time with Red. Wow we are so surprised who would have thought of redfinch being associated with the song red no we aren’t surprise :D This one specifically exists in my bandsies au. you don’t need to read that first to understand this (i think?) but it wouldn’t hurt if you checked that out as well:) Tbh i can’t decide whether i love it or hate it but at least i like it enough to post it. N ee wayysss enjoy!!

His brain is screaming about how much Albert shouldn’t be doing this. Comprising a list of cons that goes on forever. And although he thinks all of the cons his brain had written is logical, that one pro his heart wrote beside the long list was all it took for Al to say yes. All the cons will be worth suffering through if he finally gets to see Finch again. And maybe it’s for the better since he’s not doing well by distancing himself from the boy.

Unfortunately, the world isn’t black and white. Meaning that even if he did choose to follow what his heart wants, all the horrible feelings will still be there. And with every step he takes, inching closer to the entrance of the building, he’s getting even more terrified by the second. Thankfully, the line for the entrance is going pretty slow which gives time for Albert to calm down.

But it’s not helping. The line is crowded and full of fans, talking excitedly about the band’s awaiting concert inside. For some odd reason, he can only hear the conversations between fans that contain one specific name. He doesn’t hear anyone mentioning Romeo, Elmer, or Jojo’s name. Not even Crutchie, who he’s been told to be the fans’ favorite. Just the name Finch, being repeated all around him. With adoration and excitement lacing the name. The line is delaying the inevitable and the people around him makes him a bit overwhelmed.

“We can still turn around if you want. I’m sure they’ll find a way to give us a refund”

If he’s actually being honest, it was his best friend that got him to come. Race returned to their shared apartment a few weeks ago and rushed to ask Albert if he wanted to go see their friends performing tonight. Race knows about Al and Finch’s break up but it’s worth asking him first. And to his surprise, he said yes.

“No, it’s fine” Albert replied, “I’m fine”

“You’re picking your pimples right now”

“So?”

“It’s one of your nervous habits”

That piece of information really caught Al off guard. He didn’t think a tiny random fact about himself would actually corner him the way Race is doing now. Eyeing Albert through his glasses and raising his eyebrows despite his forehead being mostly covered by his beanie.

“Well… I-” Albert tried to come up with bullshit as fast as he could, “I like to do it on purpose too, alright?! My fingers just... get a little itchy!”

He slowly puts his hands down from previously reaching up to pick his face. And the line is still going slow, one step at a time. It’s not doing any favors for Al.

“Dude, it’s alright if you’re not ready to see him” Race continued, “It takes time, I get it”

“Race, I’ll be fine! How many more times do I have to tell you?” Albert argued, which finally made Race back down. And to make sure it’s no longer gonna be brought up, Al changes the subject, “By the way, where’s Specs and Mike? You said they’re watching too”

“They’re already backstage with the others for... obvious reasons” Race answered casually, catching on to Albert's intentions to change the subject. “So is Kath, by the way. We’ll meet her in there though”

To that, Albert simply nods. His jittery movements turn into rocking his body on the ball of his feet while digging his lips with his teeth. Race tries to pretend he doesn’t notice, but he does. Albert knows he does. Although he’s glad he’s not bringing it up because it might make it worse.

He’d be lucky to know that he’s not the only one panicking over this. In the dressing room, an aggravated Finch throws his phone to the cushion of the couch after sending the last text to his friend Race. It sounds unlawful for Race to be ‘secretly updating’ Finch on how Albert is actually doing because it’s obviously something Albert doesn’t want to directly tell his ex.

Finch groans, placing his elbow on his armchair to support his head. The room is spinning in his view and he wishes it all to stop. Taking deep and long breaths to stabilize his shaky limbs. A little prayer starts playing in his heart, it follows the tempo of his fast heartbeat.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Finch opens his eyes and looks up to meet his bandmate sitting on the couch across from him. He hadn’t even been talking for a good hour because he’s too fixated with the first text Race sent him when he and Al first started making their way to the concert.

“Yeah, he’s in line” Finch replied, looking up to the blond boy who’s holding his bass.

“How are they not being mobbed?” Another voice rang. This time it’s not coming from one of Finch’s bandmates. It’s coming from Race and Albert’s bandmate, sitting next to the shortest member of Finch’s band on the couch.

Specs only ask that because their two bands have a long connecting history and their fanbase tends to be sort of the same in a way. With Specs dating Romeo and Mike dating Jojo, Race and Albert are bound to be recognized and mobbed by at least a few fans. Especially seeing that Albert is Finch’s former lover, although the fans know that as a rumor since the two never publicly addressed it.

“I’m assuming they’re wearing a lot of shit to cover their faces” Another answered, the other VIP of the show alongside Specs, Mike. He’s twirling his drink in his hand while the other keeps Jojo cuddled close to him, “I mean, Al’s head is really fucking bright!”

With the mention of that specific name, Finch sulks back in his armchair with a groan. He covers his face with his hands, hoping it’d make the world just stop for one second. He could hear a loud clean slap echoing the room, followed by overlaps of whispered scolding. If he had to guess, it was Mike who was the one getting slapped and scolded.

“This is a disaster…” Finch exclaimed to himself, still not lifting his face up.

“It doesn’t have to be unless you make it like that” this time a feminine voice spoke up. A voice he recognized to belong to Kath.

Finch hears footsteps approaching him. He feels the motion of someone softly kneeling down in front of him. His hands were gently pried open and he was met with Kath’s friendly smile.

“It takes time, but you gotta trust the process”

It’s not necessarily the words he needed to hear right now, but it still warms his heart to hear his friend still being there for him despite the sticky situation he has gotten them into.

Everything would’ve been just fine if Finch hadn’t been so pushy and upset over Albert’s decision. He was the one that decided to put his music career on hold to go get that engineering degree, which frankly seems pretty useless. Finch was so dirty for pulling the ‘you’re being selfish’ card at him when it’s not even his band at all. Race, Specs, Mike, Ike, and even their manager Denton were very supportive about his decision to get that degree. Heck, all their friends were! But not Finch. His boyfriend at the time. He argued like he secretly knew how the others felt about Al leaving when really there aren’t any secret feelings for him to know. All his arguments came from his own feelings.

However, he knows Albert’s ‘own decision’ was secretly coated by his father’s persuasive words. The whole ‘just in case the music career doesn’t work out’ argument was basically the copy and pasted words from his father. They both know it. Despite the arguments, it still seemed that Al was determined to fully focus on college anyways. Instead of following his fellow musician friends’ college path by getting a degree in the non-lecture-hall way, he followed his father’s words and actually attended his college classes in a proper campus.

In the moment, Finch was just too focused on Albert leaving. Maybe he was the one being selfish. He had only realize now that most of his arguments were because he didn’t want Albert to go. It’s too late now, since the last time they saw each other was when Al slammed the door of their apartment one last time with all his stuff and a plane ticket to Seattle. At that point, Finch was finally tired of all the arguing and told him that if this was his plan then he’s on his own.

The tears that came after were filled with sorrow and regret. Sorrowful because he missed him. Regretful because he only realized then that there was no valid reason for Finch to lash out in the first place other than for his own needs. The feeling is still present to this moment. And it’s currently the strongest right before a show because he knows he’s gonna be in the crowd.

“Look, we’ll let ya drown out your feelings with some booze later” Crutchie finally said, “But right now we got a show”

The band was all getting up from where they were seated, bringing whatever they needed to the stage. Crutchie gets some help from Jojo to bring his Bass till he properly sits on the stool on stage. But Finch stays perfectly still, holding Kath’s hand as if his life depends on it.

“I know I should talk to ‘im, Kath” Finch finally said, slowly joining the others in standing up. Kathrine follows along, eyes still fixed to her friend, “But… I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say to him”

“Then don’t talk” Mike suddenly inserts himself in their little conversation. He gets up and approaches the two, “Sing him the new single”

“You’re fucking insane, Mike!” Katherine instantly snapped.

“Alright, your mouth will be legally sealed shut till the end of the concert” Specs joins them only to drag Mike away. There were some protests from the boy, but it was totally shut down by everyone else in the room.

“No, wait. He’s got a point” Finch suddenly exclaimed, which quickly got the whole room to freeze in time.

He looks at his bandmates, all standing by the doorway ready to kill the concert. A half confident smile appears on his face and he says, “Let’s sing that single”

The concert is held in a bar like-venue with multiple floors, slowly being filled to the brim by excited fans. Their excitement bounces off the walls of the venue, creating an ecstatic kind of environment despite the tight space. The concert is going to start any minute now and while the fans surrounding him are shaking in excitement, Albert is shaking in a nervous fit.

“Still okay there, Al?”

Albert looked to his side, seeing his good friend Kathrine looking up to meet his eyes with concern. She had just joined the boys in the midst of the crowd after hanging out behind the stage with the band.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay” He replied, “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re squeezing my hand a little too tight”

Al had only realized he’s been holding Kath’s hand just now. His brain was too focused on his fears about meeting Finch again to the point that he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He gets bashful all of a sudden, cheeks going a bit warm, harshly pulling away from her grasp.

“It’s okay, you can hold my hand if you want,” Katherine said gently.

“Kath, I’m fine!” Albert said, “Why won’t you and Race believe me?”

“Because we know it’s utter bullshit”

The pair looked back towards the crowd behind them where the familiar voice originated from. There, Race struggles through a sea of people with two drinks in hand. Oddly enough, he still seems to stand the heat despite still wearing his face disguise. A white cotton mask, black-framed glasses, and a grey beanie mostly providing cover for his blond curls. While Al, seeing that the venue is pretty dark and speculations has led him to believe that the fans would be focused on the concert rather than the people attending it, had already put away his mask. However, his fears still made him wear his snapback and grey-framed glasses just in case.

Albert takes his rightful drink, and with a free hand, Race takes off his own mask and stuffs it in his pockets. He complains about the stuffiness from wearing the mask all while doing so, which made Kath laugh. It appears the Albert-scolding has been forgotten for the time being, as Kath and Race starts engaging in their own conversation, which Al doesn’t mind because he’d much like to down his beer quickly.

And then the concert finally starts.

An exciting intro starts playing as the band enters the stage. The wild crowd welcoming the band is deafening to Albert’s ear. Time freezes and everything in between fades away. All he sees is Finch, up on stage wearing a smile brighter than the lighting of the venue itself. He’s using his old dark green guitar. The same one he uses when he’s writing songs in bed or when he just feels like strumming the strings. Albert remembers the memoirs of all the guitar string scars he had earned throughout the years of knowing him. Some of them were even caused by Albert himself.

Lucky that Finch hasn’t noticed Albert has been staring at him the whole time. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the boy since the start of the first song, shimmering under the spotlight with amazing vocals. Laughing about at his fellow bandmates’ antics on stage. Oh, that laugh. It gives him butterflies in his stomach like it was the first time hearing it.

He can feel two pairs of familiar eyes on him. But he’s too far gone to care. Albert really did make a big mistake for letting Finch go that easy. Because at the end of his previous college days, he still loves him and misses him dearly. His little Finchy. It doesn’t matter to Al anymore if Race and Katherine are eyeing him with sorrow or the whole world were to look at him weirdly for fixating his own eyes towards the beautiful boy on stage. He was his beautiful boy. Good lord, does he long to see the days when he got to call Finch his.

“Holy shit, I fucked up” Albert muttered under his breath, only Kath and Race could hear it, “I should’ve never had left”

His friends were definitely not expecting Albert to verbally exclaim his regret. They already knew from the start despite the redhead’s previous denials. But hearing him say it just makes it all more real. Even Albert himself was hit by a truck of reality just by loudly announcing it.

“Well, now you know” Katherine started, gentle voice on the same volume as his own despite the volume of their current surroundings being incredibly loud, “Go tell him that after the show”

“I can’t. I shouldn’t” Albert replied, fully turning away from the stage to properly look at his friends. A glint of sorrow and desperation flashes before his face, “I might make things worse!”

“Well, you’ll never know till you try” Race said, sounding a little hesitant at the start. He offered a warm smile at his friend and a hand on his shoulder, since there isn’t much he could do in the moment.

With a heavy sigh, Albert turns back towards the stage only to witness the biggest surprise of his life. Finch looked back. Straight into Albert’s eyes, it pierced right through to get his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He just realized the song the band was previously playing had ended and they were waiting for the fans to quiet down. While Romeo playfully over-dramatize his thank you’s to the crowd and gets scolded by Elmer and Crutchie, Finch was continuously staring at Albert. The hands that were previously used to play with his guitar hang idly because his center of attention wasn’t at his instrument right now.

It might just be some form of hallucination Al retained from the high, but Finch seemed to be smiling at him a little. Just a little curve at the end of his lips while he’s still staring back.

Albert doesn’t know how to interpret this other than to just stare back. Deep down, his heart is flipping in all kinds of ways and his thought process is no longer comprehensible. He’s trying to read the other boy’s emotions but it’s too neutral to tell. Other than the fact that he’s smiling a little at him but that still doesn’t give him a proper answer.

Eventually Finch becomes the first one to look away, seeing that the audience had settled down for the band. Albert’s eyes were still glued to Finch, retaining his focus back to the concert. He opens his mouth for a moment to say something into his microphone, although he unexpectedly stopped. The flow of words seemed to cut short. He saved himself by pulling himself away from the microphone up front and towards the rest of his bandmates. Judging from the body language, they seem to be whispering.

“What’s happening?” Albert whispered, more to himself rather than to his friends.

“I’m not sure…” Race replied, taking a step closer to where Al is standing.

The band kept the discussion short and quickly got back to their places. Finch seems to hesitate the second time he opens his mouth to speak. But this time, he gets the words out.

“Uhh… sorry ‘bout that. I uhh… I just got the urge to go a bit out of our fixed setlist and uhh… hope you guys don’t mind” Finch explained with a little giggle at the end. The crowd couldn’t care less and cheered on. Finch smile widens at the agreement, “We thought we’d give ya an early access to our newest single that hasn’t been released yet”

A euphoric feeling passed through the crowd as the cheering got louder. It baffled Finch so much that he laughed into his mic.

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it” Katherine commented under her breath.

But Al’s ears were sharp enough to catch it. He snaps his head around to face the girl behind him, “Do what?”

Katherine was rendered speechless to that question, despite obviously knowing what’s going on. Albert turns to Race but he has no idea. He finally turns back to the stage where Finch’s gaze was already waiting to be returned by Al himself.

Without breaking the gaze, Finch speaks into the mic with a little smile, “It’s called ‘Red’”

It was Albert’s turn to be speechless. He had no knowledge of a new single since he’s mostly been staying away from his ex’s social media for the sole purpose of moving on, which he had failed miserably. And none of his friends had told him anything about a single that’s title was a secret language only Finch and Albert share, littered with all sorts of vintage romance.

“Holy shit…” Race exclaimed, “...I had no idea they were gonna play this song”

The opening of the song starts with Jojo lightly plucking a few strings of his acoustic guitar. The crowd goes wild once again, energy bouncing off one wall to the other.

“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly”

Crutchie sang the first line smoothly. At this point the other’s had joined in with their instrument. Finch fully ignoring the crowd and focused on looking at Al. Those blue eyes are trying to send a message to Albert and it’s being coded with the song they’re currently playing.

The song had carried on till it reached the chorus. All the instruments peaked at that moment and collaborated with each other to create a very euphoric sound. The crowd jumps along to the beat of the song along with a loud cheering, obviously enjoying the tune they have yet to listen to. Some were holding up cameras to capture this moment, most likely to later share it with the fans that didn’t get the chance to witness it live.

At this point, Finch had turned his face away from Al. There was a troubling look in his expression but it was quickly covered by closing his eyes as if he’s trying to concentrate on singing the chorus with the others. But Al is no fool. He knows that look on Finch’s face is when he’s trying to avoid something, and that something is him.

“Losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

But loving him was red”

The words moved something in Al. It was written in a way Albert recognized it to be Finch’s writing style. Every single part of the song. From the melody, the chord progression, even the lyrics. Especially the lyrics.

“Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword

And realizing there's no right answer

Regretting him was like wishing you never found out

That love could be that strong”

As Finch harmonized that line with Jojo, he stole a little sad side glance at Albert. The song returns to the chorus once again, Finch gets dragged with the beat and lightly moves his body along.

Albert gets captivated along with the music. He can feel the corner of his lips slightly rising up, which is pretty ironic seeing that Finch is singing a breakup song about them. Maybe because he’s relieved to hear Finch sing about how he’s not fully over him. Or maybe it’s because he gets to see Finch embracing the break up, which could potentially mean that he’s okay with it. But whatever it is, he’s happy seeing Finch like this. Or just seeing him in general.

“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head”

The chord progression’s pattern slightly changed. Finch sings his line into the microphone, closing his eyes as if to soak up all the intoxicating energy he gets from the crowd. Of people flailing their hands into the sky and a loud chorus of undecipherable shouting. But at the last line, he steals a proper glance back at Albert.

“In burning red”

The lyrics really says it all. There’s no more hidden message that Albert needs to decipher, as it's being presented right in front of him.

Finch takes over the next part of the song, shredding his guitar which makes the crowd go wild. At the moment, it looks like he’s feeling himself. Moving along with the motion of his fingers that creates each note.

“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

'Cause loving him was red”

The song is supposed to be a punch to Albert’s guts, and yet he finds himself laughing at it. He catches a glimpse of Finch’s eyes, sneaking its way to look back at Albert every so often. And this time, he wears a smile while jumping along to the song. And it made Al smile back.

“His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street”

As the song ended, the fans went wild. The look on Finch’s face seems satisfied at the success of the single they have yet been released to the world, shining at the sight of a hype crowd. He steals one last glance at Albert with a little smile on his face. Albert would dare to say he’s being a bit shy. To that, Albert smiles back with a disbelief laugh escaping his lips before Finch pulls his gaze away from the other boy.

After playing a few more songs, the concert ended. There was only one thing in Albert’s mind, which was talking to Finch. Race and Albert quickly put their disguise back on before the crowd had realized who they were as they exited the venue. The three stay behind as the venue gets emptied, Race and Katherine making quick work with their fingers on their phones to contact their friends backstage.

Jojo was the first to respond to either of them. He said that Finch is smoking behind the venue alone. One could only assume that he’s not in his best state after spontaneously choosing to sing that single. But Jojo assured them that he’s still good to talk to. Crutchie then responded, saying that Specs and Mike can pick them up to get them into the backstage.

It didn’t take them long, but Albert wasn’t keen on seeing the others right now. After being pointed towards the back door, Albert was already off. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he makes quick steps towards it.

He gently opens the door, to avoid surprising the boy in case he was nearby. Albert steps out to a parking lot, open-spaced with another parking lot above it as its roof. At a first glance it was completely empty, only a few lights turned on to keep the area lit. His eyes gandered even further and spotted the boy he was looking for, back facing Al and his body leaning on metal bars as he enjoyed the nightlife of the city.

Albert took a deep breath to calm his adrenaline, slowing down his walking pace. The area is eerily quiet. Only a few things that can be heard: his footsteps, his thumping heart, and the sounds coming from the streets three stories below them. With every step closer, he slowly unraveled his makeshift disguise. Shoving his mask and glasses in the pockets of his jeans but left the snapback on.

“‘Loving him was red’” Albert said to catch Finch’s attention, “Did you mean it to be that obvious?”

Finch didn’t fully turn his head around, only halfway so Al can see the little grin of amusement forming on his face. A little chuckle escaped his lips, causing his chest to pulse along before he continued, “Not really. But it has a nice ring to it”

Albert takes a few steps closer towards the metal bars, leaning his body on it like what Finch is doing. Now he can clearly see the half burnt cigarette on Finch’s hand. Al tries to make eye contact with him, but Finch is purposely turning his head the other way and giving Albert his head full of blond curls.

“You came back” Finch suddenly said, voice hushed and low.

“Of course I came back” Albert replied, “You didn’t think I’d fully leave like that, did’ja?”

“Well, no. It’s just that you seemed so hellbent on going to college”

Albert slowly nods at that, moving his gaze towards the streets below like the other boy. They sit in the silence for a few minutes. Hearing different vehicles pass by the street below them and honking from the distance.

“Finch, I’m so sorry I left ya like that” Albert suddenly started, fully turning his face towards him. He couldn’t find a way to word it and so he resorted to just telling him the truth. Finch stays quiet to let him continue, “I was an idiot to let ya go that easily and all because I was selfish”

“You weren’t actually being selfish” Finch said, smiling a little at his words, “You did it because you wanted to. And it wasn’t hurting anyone anyways”

“It did. It hurt you”

Finch turns his head towards Albert. Now their eyes are looking into each other closer than before. The closest they’ve ever been since their breakup. A mixture of unsaid emotions made the gaze feel so intimate and it terrifies Al a bit.

“I hurt myself trying to get you to stay” Finch said softly. His next words got stuck in his throat. He gives his brain a few seconds to focus with a sigh out of his mouth and dragging his gaze away from Al, “I knew you never wanted to get that engineering degree in the first place which is another reason I didn’t want you to go. But at the end of the day, it was your decision to make and not mine. I lashed out on you and said you were selfish but… I was the one that was being selfish”

Finch turns his eyes back towards Al, his face looks more sorrowful than before, “I’m sorry”

A small smile formed on Al’s face, tilting his head to the side by a few inches, “It ain’t your fault for knowing me more than I know myself”

They leave the conversation at that for the time being. Letting the streets below fill the void of their silence. Both boys focusing their gaze towards the view they got from this height they’re on again. Finch and Albert left speechless at each other’s words.

Albert’s hands unconsciously reach up to his forehead, itching to pick a pimple like earlier. His next words almost got stuck in his throat but he was able to pull through just enough to get to his point, “Well, at the end of the day we uhh… we both fucked up. Fucked our relationship, that’s for sure-”

“Stop picking on your pimples, Al” Finch casually said. The surprise look on Al’s face got Finch to side eye him with a giggle.

Al pulled his fingers away, stuttering in his movements but still continued on his words with more confidence, “What I’m trying to say is… I want to try again as long as you’re willing to”

There was a good few seconds of silence that Finch used to just stare at him. Albert could only wonder what he’s thinking about inside that head, “So we just… what? Forget the breakup ever happened? Move back in together? You know I can’t just do that, right?”

“That’s not what I mean. We don’t need to rush things. I know you can’t do that” Albert said, “Just… let me start by making it up to you? Whatever you want. Just name it”

Finch didn’t respond instantly, letting the silence between them linger for a few more minutes. But it’s deeply agonizing to Albert’s ears. A blank space of two eyes locked in a gaze, and one is obviously dying to get out of it.

“Please, say something” Albert begged. Hands suddenly reaching back up to his face to pick on his pimples again.

With a free hand, Finch reaches towards Al’s hand on his face. He pulls it down to the bars, holding it in place to make sure it doesn’t repeat its mistakes again. The grip was firm, but warm and calming to Albert’s soul. It made him go blank for a good few seconds from being so touch deprived of Finch’s soft hands. He retains his sense of reality when their eyes finally meet again.

With a little smile forming on Finch’s face, he finally answers, “I’d like that very much”

#random writing #newsies #redfinch #redfinch newsies #albert dasilva #albert newsies #finch cortez #finch newsies #tw cursing #tw alcohol #tw cigarettes #tw angst #validate me pls and thanku:)#unless you don't ship redfinch #which is understandable

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scandeniall · 4 years

Text

Dear Diary

song 1: dear diary | good & bad masterlist | prev | next

Pairing: sakusa x reader

Summary/warnings: life has been kicking your ass yet you don’t want to tell sakusa/profanity

WC: 1.5K

“How’ve you been,” you paused debating on answering honestly or not. Switching your phone to speaker, you fiddled with the covers resting beneath your fingers before sighing out. “I miss you Yoomi.” A silence comes settled through the phone line. “How are you doing?” The insistence of your well being causes another sigh to escape your lips. Of course he could tell that something was off even through the phone and a part of you curses his observational skills. “Im just--really fucking stressed,” you mutter out reluctantly.

“Have you been taking care of yourself? Eating real meals and getting proper sleep?” The questions being rattled off on the other side of the phone causes you to crack a small smile at his concern. You could only imagine the furrow in his brows at the thought of a lack of concern for your own health. You almost miss the ending of the questions as he tells you not to lie to him. Your silence causes Sakusa to sigh on the line.

“Sometimes I hate how much you really know me.” You voice the thoughts that had previously been in your head. Sakusa could hear the slightest of background noise as you maneuver yourself under the warm comforter and shifted to get comfortable. “Do you need me to come home.” The words aren’t phrased as a question, and that causes you to quickly shake your head despite the fact that he couldn't see that.

“No-no. Yoomi, it's fine. I just- I just need to get my mind right and relax. I just needed to hear your voice tonight, that's all.” You tell him, despite wanting nothing more than for him to be back with you.He’d been on the road for the last month, a series of away games and such. And right before he left, you’d been out of town on a major business trip. It seemed as if time nor luck were your friend. It’d been at least a month and a half since the two of you were anywhere near one another. He’d still be gone another month and all either of you could do was wait it out.

The silence that followed your response was telling. You could already imagine the way Sakusa has his eyes narrowed in thought. Thinking about whether he should push for your well being or let it go for now. The quietest sigh escaped his mouth from the other side of the phone. He’d made his decision. “I miss you too. I’ll be home soon.”

Life after that phone call seemed to grow progressively worse. Not only had you and Sakusa not been able to squeeze in another talk in the following week, but life sucked. Your job has been giving you more and more responsibility, and allowing you more freedom. On one hand that was great, a celebratory text sent to your boyfriend at the talks of you in for a promotion, however it was tiring. You were coming home later and later, exhausted and starting to neglect your own health.

It’s not you were intentional in the neglect. It just felt too damn hard to come home after a long day and cook a healthy and fulfilling meal. When you were home you were suddenly reminded of just how empty the apartment was without Sakusa. Dust that was normally absent due to his cleanliness began to appear. Dishes piled up more than he would have liked. Whenever you did bother to straighten up at least for his sake, it drained you.

Adulthood was really kicking your ass and it came to a head one night when you woke up sweating. As if life couldn’t drag you down even more, your AC had gone out right during the hottest part of the summer. Come morning you found out that your landlord had gone on vacation and could not and would not be able to fix the unit for at least a week.

So you’d done what you usually did. Sucked it up and forced yourself to push through. Not a word of your woes to Sakusa who had more important matters to attend to other than your slump. You went to work, exhausted yourself there and dragged your feet into the dreaded heat of your apartment.

Upon entering you were automatically hit with a wave of heat, making your already sluggish steps heavier. Kicking your shoes off you offhandedly waved hello to the person seated on the couch before dragging yourself towards the kitchen like it was completely normal. A moment later you stopped in your tracks. “Yoomi?”

The slightest nod from your boyfriend caused you to blink in surprise before launching yourself into his arms. “What are you doing here,” you muttered as his hands ran up and down your back. Pulling away slightly you eyed him. He looked tired. Eyes unusually sunken and you noticed the tiniest sheen of sweat across his forehead. You went to pull away knowing the touch paired with the heat would likely make him uncomfortable. To your surprise, the hands wrapped around your middle didn’t make any moves to release you. “You needed me so I came home.”

You felt a squeeze in your heart as your arms tightened wrapped around his shoulders. “But I didn't say anything—“

“Your voice. On the other week. And then your texts were different.” Of course he noticed. The conversation had already signaled to him that you weren’t the best. Your shaky exhales as you insisted that you were fine and that he didn’t need to come home. Then he noticed the jokes within your texts began to slowly subside. You’d also found yourself saying that you missed him more than usual. “So you came back?”

“I have a 3 day weekend this week. Then I’m back to practicing.” You nodded in understanding the two of you releasing one another and you noticed Sakusa frown. “Why’s it hot?” You explained about the broken AC and about the suffering you’ve endured for the past 2 days. “Did you get any more fans?” He looked annoyed once you denied purchasing any additional appliances knowing he’d had to get that done for you. “You know you’re more susceptible to nosebleeds in the heat right?”

“Thank you Dr. Omi,” you teased, laughing at his scowl from the nickname. The two of you settled onto the couch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s common knowledge.” His replies allow a lightness to settle in your heart. One you hadn’t felt in weeks. The two of you settle into a silence for a little while his hand rubbing soft circles on your knee. “You need to take better care of yourself. And tell me when you need me.”

“I didn't want to take you away from your busy schedule,” you hum out. You feel the movement against your knee stop, a former grip replacing it. “I don't care how busy I am, I’m here. Now stop being annoying and tell me things.” You feel yourself jokingly roll your eyes before agreeing. However that wasn’t enough as you heard the scoff from next to you.

“I’m serious. You remember what you told me back in college”

“Pretty sure I told you a lot of things back then,” you tease, taking his closest hand and interlocking your fingers. “You believed in me,” he started catching your eyes. “Told me you always knew there was no limit to me. That means I can handle it. Don’t feel like you’re annoying me.” Your eyes widened at how he remembered that very specific moment.

It was around 4 years ago. He’d just told you that he signed to MSBY, something everyone around him was dying to know. Yet you were the first person he told. He remembered how your eyes beamed as you sat on his lap, your phone camera in his face recording the moment for memories sake. He didn’t even bother swatting it away like he usually did. He’d allowed you to place messy kisses all across his face despite the feel of your tacky chapstick. “Why do you remember that,” you questioned a soft smile gracing your own features.

You notice the shrug of his shoulders as he helped to to sit you sideways into his lap. “Doesn’t matter. Now tell me what’s wrong. And then we’re going to get some fans.” You nodded leaning so that your lips met his for a soft kiss. “I really missed you,” you murmured into the kiss. And while he was only there for the weekend it was enough. He came home for you. The one who has loved and supported him with open arms for the past 5 years. He’d be damned if he didn’t try to make up for it.

So you told him everything on your mind. Laughing every time he scolded you for the little things. “Don’t let the dust build up by the time I get back next month.” To “You need to sleep more.” And in return you got the same. You got the story from the exhaustion laced in his eyes. The hours it took to get to you, and the germs he forced himself to sit through to make it happen. And despite the annoying heat in the apartment, neither of you have felt that good in a while.

a/n: wow i FINALLY got at least 2 consective songs in a row done so now my prev/next is relevant for at least 2 parts. This took a different route than I initially planned for, nor is it exact in its storytelling. It was also started 2 months ago and finished now bc it was kinda hard for me. Anyways hi um did you catch the no limit to you ref? bc yeah i love that and to date still my fav piece ive ever written. you dont have to read that to understand this but its 5.4k words if you have some spare time.

anyways: im about to be on an 8hr car ride so feel free to request stuff. rules

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #hq imagine #hq imagines #sakusa imagines

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt76

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

That night Chloe and Marinette were at the hotel. Marinette felt somewhat guilty for the way she’d been relying on Chloe. Even now she was using her as a pillow because she just couldn’t get comfortable on her own. Granted Chloe hadn’t complained at all but between feeling useless and taking up all her time Marinette was starting to feel like a huge burden.

“I know you’re not asleep, you’re far too tense. What’s wrong?” She jumped a little at Chloe’s voice, but couldn’t bring herself to look up at her.

“Why don’t you like Barbara?” Marinette didn’t even know where the question came from. Yes, the tension had been strange but it wasn’t Chloe’s normal hostile attitude towards those she didn’t like either. She’d been planning on just leaving it alone unless they interacted more. However she also didn’t want to discuss what was actually bothering her.

“It’s not that I don’t like her…” Chloe paused and Marinette looked up to see her frowning in thought.

“You don’t know why you reacted that way.” It wasn’t a question but Chloe nodded anyway. “Do you have any guesses? Or does it feel like something you’ve experienced before?” Marinette had learned not to just ignore feelings like this. First because, with the Miraculous especially, their instincts were there for a reason and ignoring them wasn’t a good idea. Second, letting Chloe mull over a problem by herself had a tendency to blow up in everyone’s face.

“It sort of feels like the way I was with you when we were little. I think…” She paused and Marinette just waited, hugging her a bit tighter so she’d know it was okay. “I think I’m jealous that she can understand you in a way I can’t. That you can share things with her you can’t with me.” The words were soft, like she didn’t want to be heard. “It’s stupid I know.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid and I’m glad you told me.” Marinette paused to think about the problem. Unfortunately it was something time was likely to fix. “She might have a better understanding of what I’m going through, but you’re the one here with me all the time. You’re living through it with me and that’s far more important. Assuming you don’t get sick of me using you as a horse, pillow, and errand girl before I get things figured out and can actually do things on my own again.”

“Until we figure things out. And honestly I like being with you all the time. Not to mention I actually feel needed which is really nice. I know it’s selfish but before this happened I always felt like more of a tag a long than anything else. I’ve been waiting for you to decide that you deserve better, or that I’m just a phase you’re going through. Now I at least feel useful.” That finally caused Marinette to really look at her. The guilt in her expression hurt, as did knowing that she’d missed this, probably since they started dating.

“Chloe, you’ve never been a phase and even if there’s better out there, which I highly doubt, I don’t want it. I want you.” The look of shock and hope on her face caused another wave of guilt. “What’s more I need you, and not because of my legs. Whenever I feel like I can’t do something, or like I’m a failure, you’re there to tell me to get over myself and do it. Whenever everything gets too overwhelming you’re there to pick it apart into manageable pieces. When everything is just too much, you’re there to tell me that I don’t have to do everything by myself. I don’t need you because I can’t walk. I need you because you’re you.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damian was texting Luka on the burner phone he’d bought not long after finding out Marinette was Ladybug. He’d wanted a way to communicate that his family wouldn’t have access to so that they didn’t get information they shouldn’t have. He was especially grateful for that device now that Drake was in Paris.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” Tim’s question caused him to roll his eyes. He didn’t bother answering. No one in his family seemed to know what to do with that information though he didn’t know why. It didn’t seem to be attached to the fact that he liked another boy either. “It’s just… honestly with the way you act around other people and the fact that you’ve never really shown interest in anyone before we all kind of figured you were ace.”

Damian leveled his brother with a flat look. Once he’d started feeling things for Luka he’d done a lot of research on sexual and romantic attraction. The sheer number of orientations and vocabulary was honestly annoying to him. He understood that most people wanted to feel like there were other people out there that were the same as them, but it seemed like there were so many overly specific descriptions that it just made his head hurt. Eventually he decided that finding a specific label for what he was, wasn’t just unnecessary, but also limiting. He didn’t want to put himself in a box that would define him when he wasn’t certain about any of it in the first place.

“I didn’t realize you all talked about my personal life so much. You really should concentrate on your own rather than try to analyze mine.” Tim frowned at him but it looked more like confusion than insulted.

“We care about you, whether you want to believe it or not, and we want you to be happy. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to be with someone if you don’t really want to be.” Damian could only scoff and the stupidity of that statement.

“When do I ever do something I don’t want to do without one of you forcing it on me?” Tim actually flinched at the question. It was true though. His family had an incredibly annoying habit of not only inserting themselves where they weren’t wanted, but also pushing him where they wished with no real regard for what he wanted.

“We’re just trying to help you. You act so certain of everything but you’re still just a kid and considering a lot of your attitude and opinions were set by your mother we want to try and make you open to new things.” That just brought another eye roll.

“And you really think forcing me to do things against my will or better judgement actually makes me more open to things? Given the fact that none of you even bother to ask me what I think or feel about anything you’re just projecting your assumptions on me before making decisions about what I should or shouldn’t like or do. None of you know me at all yet you constantly feel the need to ‘fix’ me. All you’re really doing is making me less likely to try things on my own since I know you’ll all just fixate on it and then force me to do it the way you think I should.”

Tim was looking at him like he’d never seen him before but Damian just ignored him and continued texting. That was another reason he didn’t want to label himself. Everyone in his life already did it for him, no matter how inaccurate it actually was.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

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#maribat #marinette dupen chang #Damian Wayne #bffmaridami

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years

Text

How’s the Heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871853/chapters/65565265

Somehow I made it and it is FINISHED!!!! This is my fic that I wrote for @batfam-big-bang !!!!

The biggest of shoutouts and THANK YOUUUUS to my incredible betas: Ace, Skye, and Em!!! @toomanyfandoms21, @timmydrakewings, and @geekinthecorner !!!! I’ve never actually had a beta before, but for this i had 3??? You guys were so kind and patient with me and my last minute tendencies. Thank you for all your suggestions and edits!!! [heart eyes]

and then!! ARTISTS!! you guys really put your heart and soul into the pieces you made and i just,,,, want to cry,,,,THAMKKKKK YOUUU!!!! keep being awesome! im love u: Butter, Dean and Lucy!!!!!! @heybabybird, @greenbean-riverdean, and @houser-of-stories !!!!!

Its a Tim-centric 3+1 Three times Tim is helped or comforted by his family, and one time where he's doing pretty alright. (TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal thoughts, etc! full tags on ao3)

1) Here I am to Share the Fear (Tim & Damian & Dick) Bruce is back and everything seems to be going well- so of course old fears pop up again. Damian notices his absence and tries is best in his own way to offer some comfort.

2) Fly Towards the Calm (Tim & Steph & Cass) Steph notices that Tim's failing at basic self care again, so she declares Movie Night. She and Cass try to remind Tim that he needs to take the time to care for himself and not just continue pouring himself out on behalf of others.

3) Night Will Come But Not to Stay (Tim & Bruce) Turns out catching the Clench and loosing his spleen have more lasting effects than they thought. Tim tries to ignore and push past his new found limitations, Bruce notices that something is off and is there for the inevitable breakdown.

+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale (Tim & Alfred) A rare event of relaxation, the Waynes have a picnic at the manor. Alfred worries about his family, but for now, it seems like everything is alright.

Read it under the read more or on AO3 !

Here I Am To Share The Fear

Too much. Everything was too much.

Bruce was finally back, and Tim was glad that everyone was so happy - despite them all being wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He shook his head and put a light smile on his face, trying to focus on the conversation in front of him, but Dick was so loud. And there were far too many people in the mansion - in the same room - Tim swallowed and grit his teeth against the feeling of his organs crawling up his throat.

There were eleven people in the room.

Ten roses in the flowered centerpiece on the buffet table.

Nine cups scattered about the room.

Eight candle flame shaped light bulbs in the chandelier.

Seven white socks (why was Dick only wearing one?)

Six voices in variating clarity.

Five… Five? Five fingers on each hand.

Four windows, none open.

Three lamps, all unlit.

Two doors.

One exit. Viable exit, at least.

Zero people looking at him. Perfect.

It was time for him to go, so he took his exit as quietly as possible, noticing the volume of the crowd drop as he walked out. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Good. That- that was something he could deal with.

As he fled to his room, he couldn’t help but notice how alive the manor was. So many lights were on, even in empty rooms. Little things littered the place as if people actually lived here. A book on the table here, ready to be picked up and read from where they left off. A suitcase full of clothes there, waiting to be unpacked. Doors open instead of closed and locked. Bed covers turned down, ready to welcome them home.

Tim reached his door and saw the life that had flooded there as well. Posters, pictures of family and friends covered large portions of his walls. Little trinkets given to him were lovingly placed around his desk. It was more than he could take, so he ran. He ran and ran through hallways and past open doors until the warmth of the occupied portion of the Manor turned to the chilly halls of the guest wing. Back in the furthest unused room is where he finally stopped, willing his heart rate to slow down.

The room looked like something out of a book, everything covered with sheets and layered with undisturbed dust, no signs of life. The evening light cast the room in cool tones of blues and greys, shadows soft and hazy. The attached bathroom was much the same, cold tiles sucking the heat from his feet.

Sitting down, he hugged his knees to his chest, letting the lines of the sink cabinet dig into his back. Tim stared for a while, trying not to think, and letting the clock tick a rhythm into his head.

The clock sounded so loud, and his breath seemed even louder. Nothing felt ok. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his vision while panic seemed to well up inside of him and claw into his throat. Everything felt like it was closing in on him so he pushed back, laying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs as far as they could go. The cold seeped into him and he vaguely wondered if that’s what it felt like to die. To let your warmth bleed out into the universe. Death… was a calming thought. As humourless as that was, it forced a short laugh out of his throat.

Death would be preferable, he thought, to whatever feeling this is.

Bruce had been back for a month, and for a little while the triumph of bringing him home had been, well, satisfying. Relieving. Exhilarating.

But now, somehow, he was left feeling empty. Hollow. Carved out. His skin was pulled taut over his bones and there was nothing inside. Each day was an empty victory. A consolation prize. An uphill battle against an unseen enemy.

Eating, drinking, getting dressed, sleeping, showering, all done out of the necessity of existence. But most of the time he didn’t feel like he existed at all. Just a doll or a robot - there, but not really. Tossed aside until needed again. Some sort of empty, semi-existent thing. It felt too much like being five again and waiting by the phone for that occasional Sunday call from his parents.

A single tear slipped out, unbidden. It left a quickly cooling trail in its wake.

Everything is so stupid. Tim thought, frustrated by his own stagnancy, willing himself to just do something, instead of just lying there considering the logistics of several stupidly lethal ideas. He was working on kicking out the thoughts when he was distracted by the sound of light, purposeful footsteps. Damian. With footsteps like that it meant he was trying to be considerate. Creepy.

“What do you want?” Tim sighed.

“Drake.” Tim could feel rather than see the curt nod Damian gave him. “Pennyworth brought out those blueberry scones you seem to favor. However, you were not present. So I…” His self-assured tone faltered.

Tim turned to look at him for the first time. “You came looking for me?”

“I would hardly call it looking. You frequent a few spots and the conclusion was obvious by the number of people that are currently within the Manor.” Damian sat cross legged on the floor, pushing a scone into Tim’s hands.

“But why would you…?” Tim sat up, arching an eyebrow.

“It is only natural to know your enemy, Drake. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Damian sniffed and waited for Tim to take a bite. Then he continued. “Then you will best know how to poison them.” A (dare Tim say it) friendly smirk showed itself on Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, and for once they seemed to have gained a sort of mutual understanding.

They lapsed into silence again. Damian shifted, obviously wanting to say something but didn’t know how. The expression on his face looked so scrunched that Tim almost wanted to laugh.

Instead he asked, “Is it still unbearably loud out there?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “With Grayson in the room? Obviously.”

Somehow Damian seemed even more frustrated. There was a good chance that any moment now he would jump up and leave, but not before throwing out an insult to cover his wounded pride at having to retreat. In his own way, he was trying to offer an olive branch, and as tired as Tim was, something in him couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He could almost hear Dick’s voice in his head, telling him that if he would just talk with Damian, have a conversation, maybe they could find common ground.

For once, he could see the clumsy effort that the brat was making, and he knew deep down, more than anything they both yearned for warmth. Not the sort of warmth that contrasted the grounding feeling of the cold tile beneath him, but the warmth of human connection. The numbness that had been growing in him twisted at that thought and he decided to take a chance.

“It’s nice to have everyone around, but…” he glanced over to try to gauge a reaction, “I can’t seem to settle into it.”

A sort of recognition, reflection, sparked in Damian’s eyes at that, and some of the tension began to leave his body. Tim continued.

“I guess it’s just that there’s always been something. If I do well enough in school, maybe my parents will take an interest in me. If I become a better Robin, maybe Batman will go back to normal. If I bring Bruce back, maybe we can all be happy again… But it never works. It’s never enough, and now- now there’s just… nothing.”

A few moments passed, and Damian’s own internal battle ended as he found the words to reach out in return.

“I, too… Mother’s time was very limited. I trained and studied hard for any extra moment of time or nod of approval she could give… and after Father denied me, it was much the same, trying to rework standards and limits for his approval. Not having something specific to work towards does indeed seem… disconcerting.” Tim searched his face and found sincerity there, though his eyes seemed to be distant as he turned away.

Damian once again found himself at a loss for words, so he thought about what Grayson would do in such a situation. A hug was… out of the question, but- he lay his hand in-between the two of them, palm open. This, he supposed, he could do. Tim took it, surprising them both. Damian’s hand felt almost unbearably warm after the cold of the tile floor.

They sat again, together, in silence. It was more companionable, though still awkward and stilted in ways neither knew how to fix.

“There’s nothing more I can do for this family. There’s nothing I can think of.” The silence stretched before them, and Tim hesitated to put his fear into words.

Finally, he whispered, “ There’s no excuse for me to stay now.”

Damian’s face whipped around to face him. “As usual, you are wrong, Drake.” He scoffed, “Don’t you know you can’t choose who your family is?” pausing, he let go of Tim’s hand and stood up, turning to leave. “You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

Quick but light footsteps sounded out in the hallway.

“Grayson!” Damian called, “Come fix Drake before Father requires his assistance again!” Nodding to Tim he left without another word.

Dick then came skidding around the corner into the bathroom, one socked foot sliding out against the tile. “Tim! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you here of all places?”

Overly warm hands, distant eyes, honest feelings? Tim let out a deep sigh. “You should be more worried about the little gremlin. I think he’s got a fever.”

Dick tensed as if to sprint off again, and Tim held in a sigh of disappointment, knowing that Damian would be the priority, yet again. But instead of running off, Dick simply pulled out his phone and sent off a text, settling down into the spot on the floor that had been recently vacated.

“Bruce is on it.” He glanced out the doorway as if he could still see Damian storming past. “Did he-?” The question of his behavior went unsaid but not uncommunicated.

“No, we had a completely civil conversation. One might even call it a heart-to-heart, by our standards.”

“Therefore, he must be sick?”

“Other signs, too. But yeah.”

The buzz of an incoming message confirmed it, but Dick put his phone away instead of typing out a reply.

“A heart-to-heart, eh? I always knew you guys could get along if you just tried talking.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Tim shot a glare at Dick who was failing terribly at trying to look affronted at the very thought, “but it does seem like we are a lot more alike than I realized.”

“Who would’ve known?” Dick teased.

“Never mind, just say I told you so next time.” Tim grumbled. “Anyway, it seemed like he was really trying, and that he wanted to help in some way. I guess I just couldn’t ignore that.”

“Yeah.” Dick had his proud big brother face on. “I'm glad you guys are finally getting along. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, you know, feeling worthless without having something to focus on, questioning our places in people's lives, the usual. “

“That does seem to be a common theme in our family.”

“He called me family,” Tim murmured. “Or, well, he implied it. But for him, that’s basically saying it.”

“Tim, that’s…” Even Dick looked astounded.

“Unbelievable?”

“No, not unbelievable.” He chided. “But definitely surprising.”

“That’s one way to get me out of a bad mood, I guess. I was so surprised that it jarred me right out of my own downwards spiral.” Tim closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Most everything still sucks, but that’s a bright spot, at least. My therapist keeps telling me to look for those. I guess I have another one to add to the list.” He turned his head to share a small smile before standing up to stretch. “That and Alfred’s blueberry scones. I sure hope there’s some left.”

Dick matched his smile with a blinding one of his own and reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“You know, if you ever need to talk-“

“I know.” Tim bumped his shoulder into Dick’s. “Thanks, Dick.”

Fly Towards The Calm

“Think fast!” Stephanie’s entrance was about as subtle as a stampede. She must have been hanging out with Jason lately. As the door behind her swung closed, she tossed a tightly, carefully wrapped package at his face. He caught it with one hand as he finished reading the last paragraph of the proposal he was looking over.

“Evidently I’m the Wayne family errand boy now,” she whined as she jumped up to sit on his desk. “I drove the brat home from school and got enlisted by Alfred to deliver food to your sorry butt.”

“You could have said no.” he muttered. Peeling back the folded wax paper revealed a tuna fish sandwich, exactly how he liked it, though a bit squished from being thrown across a room.

“Refused? Alfred? Are you joking?” she asked, over dramatically taken aback. “Besides, I was rewarded with my own delicious sandwich and not one but two cupcakes.”

“Two?” his eyebrow raised.

“Well, he only gave me one, but generously allowed me to snatch a second. I didn’t eat yours because I’m nice.” She dropped the rest of his lunch on his now closed laptop.

“Indeed, I shall never be able to repay your kindness,” he said around his own mouthful of sandwich.

“You got that right. Anyway, Cass and I are gonna have a night on the town tonight, wanna come with?”

Tim hummed in agreement.

“Great! I’ll text her. You should probably get a nap first though. Come on, you can eat on the way.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and hopped off the desk.

Gathering his things, he glanced at her in amusement. “Alfred put you up to this, too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

Looping her arm in his, they headed to the door. He noticed a slight hesitation in her steps and turned to find her looking at him funny. But she just shook her head and let whatever it was, be.

Until they got in the car, of course.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she sped down the road she asked, with a tone he couldn’t quite decipher , “Did you use my dry shampoo?”

His mind ground to a halt. Of all the questions he thought she’d ask, that was not one of them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why. They constantly borrowed each others’ things without issue, and for that matter, so did the rest of their mismatched clan. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

It had been a minute, maybe he should answer the question.

“Got my own bottle.” He said carefully, “Seemed useful.”

“Hmm.” God, now she sounded like Bruce. How many odd habits had she picked up from them?

“Tim…” she sounded soft and hesitant, as if he were fragile. He hated when they did that. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Or ate a full meal?”

He contemplated it with a hum. “Patrol,” he said finally.

Stephanie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. “Has it been bad lately?”

“What? …Oh.” Oh. “Not… really? It’s just been numb. Quiet. A bit like the way everything is muffled when you’re underwater.” A bit like drowning, he left unsaid.

She nodded and made a sudden U-turn. When he looked at her in askance, she shrugged. “We’ll patrol together another night. I’ll update Cass when we get to my apartment, but go ahead and text Alfred now. We’re going to have a self-care night with movies and facemasks and whatever other dumb indulgent Pinterest crap I can think of.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue but found he was too tired to care and yawned instead. “Nap first?”

“Shower first. Then nap.”

[BREAK]

He woke the moment she opened the door and turned his head to meet her gaze as she poked her head in with a grin.

“Ca-“ he broke off in a yawn, “Cass!”

With a quick glance behind her, she continued into the room, holding out a steaming mug. Tim sat up in bed, gleefully accepting it as she sat down next to him.

“Coffee,” he sighed in delight.

“Coffee.” She agreed with a solemn nod.

The silence was comforting as they sat there, leaning against each other, Tim soaking in the rare precious moments where he wasn’t rushed, or pulled this way and that. Reaching the bottom of the mug, he set it aside, wrapping his arms around his sister instead.

“You are a blessing upon humanity,” he said, “we don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and tightened the hug. The moment felt just like flying free above the streets of Gotham, and the thought of staying in for the night felt right. Cass pulled away just enough to look at him face to face, an amused twist to her lips.

“You smell like a Steph!” Squeezing him once more, she slipped away and was halfway out the door again when she turned as if she had just remembered something. “Oh!” her smile turned sly, “Decaf!”

“Hey!” He jumped out of the bed to catch up with her, but when he rounded the hall into the living room he was stopped in his tracks.

It seemed that somewhere in between dropping him off at her apartment to take a nap while she met up with Cass and “gathered necessary supplies”, and returning with said supplies, the original objective had been lost.

“It looks like you brought back half the manor’s supply of blankets and robbed a concession stand… and is that the old DVD case? I thought I got rid of that.”

“Yeah. Me and Dick saved it! Having everything digital may be convenient, but having a physical folder of DVDs just feels right!”

Tim suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and decided to leave the debate of Digital vs. Physical for another day.

“Anyway, you’re up just in time to help us set up the blanket fort!”

An hour later found the living room unrecognizable under the piles of pillows and draped sheets. Tim and Steph stood in the kitchen sorting snacks and discussing the night’s activities.

“-and then there’s this green tea and honey one that’s really great, very soothing-“

“Steph, you don’t have to explain them all to me, you know I’ll always let you test your facial concoctions out on me,” he cut in.

“Of course I know that. I’m not rambling about them for my benefit- I’m rambling about them for yours”

A head tilt was his only reply.

“Ok, let me try to explain this in a different way.” she put down her phone to look at him. “Tonight, Cass and I are going to attempt to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“I know-”

“Not in the way that you’ve done or that you know. Your version of taking care of yourself is to fool the cameras, the public, to fool Batman into thinking that you’re at your best.” she shoots him a look. “You’re not. You’re running on fumes and you can’t fool your family.”

“Taking care of yourself is NOT finding the lowest number of hours of sleep that you can ‘function’ on.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “It is not replacing a meal with a power bar, even if the calories are the same! It’s not only taking showers when you have to leave the house, or shutting yourself in to do casework all the time!” her hands fly up in the air and she huffs.

Taking his hands in hers she looks him square in the eyes before saying more softly, “Self-care is eating full, balanced, Alfred-cooked meals as often as you can. It’s doing your laundry every week and brushing your teeth twice a day. It’s taking naps even when you would literally rather be sorting through the 5-year backup of paperwork in R&D. Or better yet, getting a full 8-10 hours of sleep regularly! It’s looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, everyday, ‘I am good enough. I am worthy of and deserve all the love me friends and family try to give me.’

And tonight! Taking care of yourself is having a spa night with Cass and I while we watch anime movies and eat copious amounts of junk food, because we all know that patrol burns an extra 2,000 calories anyway! Plus, we can look at the Affirmations board I have on Pinterest! Cass likes practicing saying them while she beats up bad guys. Says the look on their faces is priceless.”

“Funniest one, I said, ‘I aspire to be a blessing and an inspiration to others.’” Cass recites popping her head out from the mass of blankets, “Guy completely stopped! Then I punched him.”

Night Will Come But Not To Stay

“I cant- I can’t do this anymore! I won’t do this anymore!”

“Promise?”

“…What?” his tears paused for the barest moment, before overflowing again. Bruce was crouched in front of him, tear tracks staining his face.

A moment ago Bruce had been standing with his back to him, untouched by Tim’s words, or perhaps instead, disgusted?

But perhaps that conclusion was wrong. As Tim searched his face now, it looked more like he was the one in pain and exhausted beyond belief.

His lips were moving, and Tim struggled to catch up.

“What?” he repeated, softly and sniffly, a cord of self-disgust lashing out within him at the pathetic sound of it.

Not just tear tracks, it seemed. Bruce was still shedding tears as he repeated himself.

“Do you promise? That you won’t do this anymore?”

Tim’s mind felt like sludge as he tried to piece together how that request could possibly fit into the context of the last few minutes.

They had been training, not so long ago. Bruce had reached out to Tim first, this time. Offered to train together like they had in the past. Tim had jumped at the chance. He should have known better.

It had been going fine, at first. Great, even.

But his insomnia had been worse than usual this past week, and his other symptoms had been acting up, too. In response to the lack of sleep, maybe, or just the continued pattern he had observed, gradually worsening over time.

Honestly, it was probably a great big mix of things.

But he hadn’t been willing to cancel - not the first thing that he had actually been looking forward to in… too long to think about.

So, he’d shown up anyway, his body begging him to just rest.

They’d warmed up and started sparring.

Well.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes of sparring, and his body went from begging to outright rebellion.

He went down and couldn’t get back up.

And for some stupid reason, Bruce had decided to yell at him to get up.

So, he yelled back.

Yelled.

Screamed.

He’s not even sure what all he said, just that this last added bit of disappointment piled atop the ever-building terror of symptoms and lit the fuse that exploded within him and stole the earth from under his feet. It ripped through him and tore out his throat, multiplying as his view was constrained to the back of the man he respected most, seeming to be utterly unmoved by it all.

His obvious confusion and continued silence spurred Bruce to try to explain.

“Promise me that you’ll stop running yourself into the ground. Please.” He tilted his head to try and catch Tim’s eye. “I know you’ve been struggling, and not just lately. Alfred said you’ve seemed like you’ve been having an especially difficult time for quite a while. He said he had been meaning to bring it up to me before… and that he had tried to talk to you while I was gone, but that he couldn’t get you to stay in one place long enough to broach the subject. I know something’s going on. Tell me about it. Let me help.”

“Something’s going-? Help?” his laugh was incredulous and desperate as he dug his fingers into the mats beneath him before forcing them to relax. “No. You can’t- you can’t help me.” He scoffed. “Was this-“ he waved his hand around to try to indicate this situation that he couldn’t find words for, “this, supposed to be helpful?”

“Well,” Bruce looked a bit sheepish, “when you get stressed, I know you tend to internalize all of it. Direct it all at yourself. I thought if you had something outside yourself to direct it at instead… It had worked for-“ he cut himself off. “Well.” He said again, letting it rest a moment before continuing at a different angle. “What do you mean I can’t help you?”

“I mean, you can’t. I- I already researched it. There’s nothing- I mean, I sure had enough time. I had thought, with how tired I am, that maybe it’d help with my insomnia. You’d think so, right? But no. No. I’m still awake, but now I’m lying there, and I can’t do anything. Because I’m too tired! I’m so tired, Bruce. I thought- I thought I knew what tired was.”

“Tim, you’re not making sense. What’s going on? Why are you so tired?” he shifted to sit down and lifted his arms to give Tim a hug but stopped short, holding there, offering.

Tim fell into his arms and Bruce gathered his son as best he could.

“Turns out The Clench has permanent effects that the cure couldn’t reverse. They’re only just beginning to research it, but I’ve been tracking symptoms. Chronic fatigue and pain, nerve damage, migraines- other things they aren’t sure are connected. There isn’t a cure, and it’s gradually been getting worse. I’ve tried the suggestions though it's hardly any change: diet, exercise, rest, the basics. But it’s all just maintenance, and I can’t-“ he went limp as his eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t do the things I used to be able to. I’m barely making patrol- the rest of the day I’m in bed. I can’t do classes. I had intended- I was going to finish High School, or maybe get my GED. But I have to lay down after taking a shower. I can hardly think anymore. I have to drag myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. I used to be able to do everything, and now I can’t do anything! I can’t help you anymore! And you can’t help me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce pulled him closer to his chest and rested his cheek on his head, rocking them back and forth. “It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, it won’t! It’ll never be ok again! Can’t you see? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think! I can’t think, Dad! What use am I now?” his voice broke and Bruce felt his heart break with it.

“Tim,” he gathered Tim’s hands in his own from where they were clutching his shirt, and planted a kiss on his knuckles, smoothing over them with his thumb. “Son, listen to me. You were not born into this world to be useful.” He stopped him before he could interrupt. “I know you like being useful. I like being useful, too. But I need you to listen to me. You are more precious to me than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will change that. When I say, “We’ll figure it out”, I’m not talking about a cure, or some way to make sure you are, quote unquote, “useful”. I mean that we’ll figure out a way for you to live a happy life. A successful life in whatever capacity that it may mean for you. When I say “it’ll be ok”, I don’t mean that I have a fix, I just mean that no matter what, the others and I will be here for you, however you need us. I mean that no matter what happens, you have a place here. You are my son. I love you.” Bruce cradled Tim close again, and their tears mingled where their cheeks pressed together.

“It’s ok. I’m here”

(+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale

Despite still being in the middle of setting things up, the picnic mood was already in full swing. Large blankets were being weighed down by pillows and baskets of assorted snacks. Tables were being laid out to hold the main meal, soon to be a large potluck. No matter how much Alfred insisted on being the one to cook it all, each attendee persisted in bringing something to share. He faintly wondered if they would run out of table space again this time ‘round.

With the majority of the tasks already accomplished, and the remaining tasks hijacked by the ever-enthusiastic young people, Alfred found himself with nothing pressing to do. He made his way over to where Tim sat, transferring water bottles and pop cans from cartons to coolers.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I do so wish they’d stop flinging cutlery across the lawn.”

Tim looked up to watch Steph and Duke and Jason for a moment, trying to suppress his own smirk at the sight of them gleefully tossing said cutlery to each other.

“I mean, it's just plastic, right?”

Alfred sighed as he sat in a camping chair set up next to the coolers. “Yes, but that’s not quite the point. The job is getting done, though, I suppose.”

They sat a moment in pleasant silence, watching as their family milled about, more relaxed than Alfred had seen in years. He hated to break the quiet, but with the entire family around lately and as busy as ever, he had hardly had a decent conversation with any of them. He worried about all of them, of course, and their shared inability to ask for help, but Timothy was an especially quiet lad, when it came to facing problems.

“How are things?”

“Well, all the drinks are already chilled, and we have plenty of ice.”

He shrugged a little at Alfred’s pointed look. “I think they’re ok.” He fiddled a bit with the boxes and tied a fresh garbage bag to the back of a cooler. “Not great, but ok. The weight, the fog… It’s lessened, somehow?”

“Your medication is helping?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a big part of it. But more than that, the way that I think about things now, it’s- I mean, obviously, it’s taken months, and ‘better’ isn’t a word that I’d use- but there’s been progress. And for once? It’s like I can let that progress just, be? I’m not sure how to explain it, really.” He leaned back to stare at the sky. “ I’m still working on things, and putting effort into it, but I guess I’m not expecting things to be fixed completely and immediately.”

Alfred hummed in response encouraging him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frustrating to no end. Trying to ‘let go’ of perfectionism and the control issues… Sometimes I feel more like I’m chopping off parts of myself with the issues rather than just ‘letting them go’. But I’ve been finding new ways to define myself, and it’s been more manageable lately. I can work with manageable. And when it’s not, I have people who make it bearable.” He looked off to where Bruce was welcoming their first guests. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred waited until Tim met his sincere gaze, “I am so proud of you.”

The small smile Tim shot at him reminded him so much of the shy grins that were common when young Timothy had first entered their lives. Alfred’s heart ached for the many children whose smiles he had seen stolen over the years. The moment was cut short as Jason stormed over demanding,

“Tim, Steph is insisting that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is better than the 1995 version. You have to tell her she’s wrong.”

Steph came bounding over with Duke. “What's wrong with you? Do you hate Kiera Knightley or something?”

Jason took a dramatic step back with his hand on his heart. “You should know better than to ask that question! But the 1995 version is still the better version. It's more faithful to the books! The delivery is stunning! The banter is unsurpassable! And it has Colin. Firth.”

Duke breaks in, “I mean, he’s got a point. They took the time necessary to keep as many details as possible from the book. Elizabeth’s take down of Darcy is unparalleled. When it comes to banter that’s definitely the one to watch. Also, the 2005 Mr. Bennet is kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“See? Duke here is a man of taste.”

“But the aesthetic!” Stephanie cried, “The finger twitch! Darcy looking like a sad puppy in the rain! Elizabeth kissing Darcy’s hand!!! 2005 is a masterpiece! Tim, you tell them!”

“Don’t look at me, I think they’re both great. Besides, I like Jane Eyre better.” Tim says.

The other three stop and stare.

“You know, that makes sense.” Duke said with an assessing look. “Personally, my favorite is the Count of Monte Cristo.”

Jason threw up his hands in defeat. “You guys aren’t even talking about Jane Austen anymore!” They all turned as another car came up the drive. “Oh thank god, Babs is here! She’ll take my side.”

Their conversation faded into the distance as they paraded back across the lawn, dragging Tim into their argument as they went.

Bruce watched them fondly out of the corner of his eye as he approached in turn.

“The Kent’s are here, save Clark. Lois says he tried a new recipe and wanted to run it past Martha first. Diana’s running a bit late, but for the most part it seems that everyone else will be here in an hour or so. How are things coming along?”

Alfred knew he was asking about more than just picnic preparations. “All is well, Master Bruce. For once, all is well.”

#bbb2020 #batfam big bang 2020 #batfam #batfam fic #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst and fluff #holy crap i cant believe this is finished #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw suicidal thoughts #also talk of chronic illness #part three might hit a little too close to home during current events sorry #shout out to my fellow chronic illness peeps who are grieving the loss of health #i def cried while writing it #tim drake gets a hug #also everyones in therapy btw #all is well alfred says until clark shows up with that accursed sweet tea and restarts their ongoing battle over tea #please imagine the intense eye contact across the lawn as clark sets down the sweet tea at the drinks table smugly #it wouldnt fit in the fic but it fits in my heart #also u better believe that Dev is there!!!#im just too shy to write him

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cupofteaguk · 5 years

Text

what you want

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: post breakup au | fluff

warnings: depictions of alcohol consumption

word count: 5k

a/n: taken from “things you said while we were driving” on my old blog

In a way, Jungkook knows you’re on the other side of the line even before he answers the phone. One could argue that it’s because he remembers your strange and cute and endearing habit of always calling him at ungodly hours of the evening for absolutely no reason at all, or how its been a few months since things ended between the two of you and he still jumps at the notification of text messages and still catches glimpses of you on the street.

While all those things are true, he probably knows it’s you because he has yet to change the ringtone on his phone that corresponds to your calls. That way, his action of leaping off the couch and making a dive for his phone is slightly more justified as he slides the answer button and presses the device to his ear. “Hello?” He exclaims breathlessly, cursing himself out just a moment later because he didn’t even think to cover up the eager quality in his tone and probably sounds like he had been waiting around for your call—which he has but you didn’t need to know that.

“Hey! Jungkook!” You exclaim from the other end, a concerning amount of time between his question and your response that he can already feel his eyes narrowing and can already feel a little voice in the back of his head telling him that it doesn’t matter how he reacts to your call.

You’re likely way too drunk at this point to notice.

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, bringing a finger up to tap at the crease as not just a means to calm himself but also a means to give himself a better handle on the situation. You were never the heavy drinker, especially when the pair of you were dating, so he doesn’t have any sort of default speech or words of caution to throw at you during this kind of specific predicament. From that, the only thing he can properly manage to say back to you is: “Are you drunk?”

A pause. “No of course not!” You shout back over the line and Jungkook sighs because the pieces are just beginning to connect in his mind. You only ever shouted when you were drunk, when your mind and vocal chords couldn’t process the depth or volume of your tone. “Why would I do that?!”

“Y/N, you’re shouting,” He points out, looking down and despite everything, despite the fact that he should really be pissed at you for disrupting his evening, despite the fact that your wellbeing shouldn’t be a priority in his life anymore—he can’t help but allow the corner of his lips to quirk up in the smallest smile. A smile of relief that you’re here and well and talking, a smile of relief that stops the flood of questions from escaping his lips.

Another pause, and he imagines you tilting your head to the side, imagines the drunk gears turning like a wheel over and over again in your mind as you comprehend his words and attempt to adjust your own lifestyle accordingly. “I am?” You return, but your voice has lowered significantly from grand yelling to soft whispering.

Jungkook can’t help it. A noise of laughter escapes from the back of his throat. “You’re insane,” He speaks without an ounce of remorse in his tone as he straightens up and off the floor, continuing to unconsciously cradle the phone against his ear, pressing it closer as if pulled by a desire to hear every curve of your voice. “Though I didn’t know you were the type to drunk dial…”

“M’not drunk dialing,” You point out, your voice still retaining that hushed quality but there’s something different about it, something sensual and vulnerable and it only captures Jungkook’s attention more. “Jungkook, I need you.”

The statement forces Jungkook into an immediate frenzy as he allows himself one second of completely disregard for the situation, for the fact that you were drunk and likely just spewing nonsense, the fact that the pair of you weren’t dating anymore, the fact that it has been months since your last conversation—all thoughts seems to fling itself out of the window. This leaves Jungkook alone in the living room, choking on his words. He swallows thickly because drunk words were sober thoughts, were they not? “Y-You need me,” He repeats back slowly.

You whine at that, a vulnerable noise Jungkook hasn’t heard in so long that it makes his heart tighten slightly in his chest. It’s not a reaction that comes out of need or physical desire, but more so as a deep unconditional sort of longing. He misses you, misses you definitely a lot more than he should be missing an ex-partner but he can’t help it.

“I need you for a ride,” You reply back, the addition of those last three words to that sentence doing little to diminish Jungkook’s attention on your voice. It doesn’t matter that you seem to have only called him for your own personal reason. “Karly dragged’m to this party and I don’t trust anyone else to pick me up.”

“So you need me… to pick you up from a party?” Jungkook echoes, gradually lowering himself onto the couch. He doesn’t know the protocol of open lines of communication between someone who use to (and still does, but people didn’t need to know that) mean the world to him. He doesn’t know if he should be more watchful, more careful, more aware of its hidden implications or if he should take situations like these with a grain of salt.

His genuine cluelessness about relationship norms has come to bite him back in the ass, yet he’s not too sure if it’s a bad thing or a good thing.

However, his restating of your request seems to click something in your mind because you let out a groan. “Oh god,” You say, letting out a big sigh. “I can’t ask you to pick me up.” It’s hard to tell if you’re talking to Jungkook or convincing yourself otherwise.

So Jungkook just leans against the couch, continuing to press the phone against his ear, closing his eyes just enough to the sound of you breathing lightly on the other side because holy shit it feels like lifetimes. “Well, why not?” He asks, lowering his gaze to stare down at his leg, the texture of his jeans. His finger comes out to trace at the denim mindlessly, desperate to keep you on the phone partially because he’s long since forgotten the lapsed sound of your breathing but also because that part of himself that’s always been protective over you longs to ensure your safety.

“You must be busy, right?” You grumble, voice slightly muffled and he imagines you leaning heavily against a wall to maintain your balance. “I don’t want to bother you… I just need to figure out how to get home.”

“N-No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassures, pushing himself off the couch and already starting to rummage around for the important belongings such as his wallet and his keys. “Do you think you could drop a pin for me? I need to know where you are so I can come get you.”

You hum. “R-Really?” You manage. “You would do that?”

He swallows down the part of himself that almost admits he would do anything for you, not because he fears you retaining that statement but because he knows that speaking the words out loud would mean facing the truth he’s spent months trying to bury away.

So he reaches over to lightly scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean…” He starts, biting his lip, trying to find the right words that don’t give away too much of his feelings yet can still convey his desire to look after you. “I still care about you.”

He closes his eyes after the words escape, a wave of curses and frenzy and something akin to smashed keyboard lettering piling up in his mind. Fuck, fuck, that was definitely not what he was trying to go for.

Yet on the other side of the phone, you laugh softly and quietly and it sounds more tired than anything else which only gives Jungkook a greater incentive to go out and find you. “You’re too good for me Jungkook. I don’t know how I can return the favor.”

He feels himself practically melting at your words, at your ability to say the right thing without even having to try and it makes him wonder. His mind wanders to where it all went wrong, what happened between the two of you, why he’s here on the other side of the phone line in an apartment that feels much too empty and lonely rather than at that party with you and hearing your voice directly in his ear and not through some hazy reception. Or even better, just spending the time alone within each other’s company—playing video games or watching movies or cooking meals or just anything in general that involved being within each other’s company. Those things, once so common and mundane to the average day-by-day playback of his life, have quickly become his favorite things to reflect upon in his spare time. At least, until the realization of his lingering feelings for you and the fact that a breakup didn’t equate to breaking apart the remnants of his emotional connection.

He simply smiles. “Text me where you are. At least drop a pin.”

“Okay,” You manage and he can practically hear you nodding your head furiously to showcase the depth of how hard you were going to work to ensure that would happen. “I will. I really will.”

The pair of you hang up shortly after, and Jungkook finds himself letting out a breath. He hadn’t realized how nervous he would be at getting to converse with you after so many long months of silence; just a proof of testament to how you still had the full capability of continuously inching yourself underneath his skin.

His phone buzzes, capturing his attention as he reaches the device to his line of sight and sees the text message from you.

from you: [PINNED LOCATION]

from you: did tiowork

from you: jgnkook plaes tell me oyou got htaht

from Jungkook: I got it, just stay where you are okay?

from you: holy sih t did i use tehncaoloy coreectly im ga fucking genius

from you: jungkok guhryy up im tured i mgith

from you: fall sasleep

from Jungkook: DON’T

from you: jungkook ure too godoo for me

from you: what did ideo to derserve you

He pockets his phone after that, because although your messages are more than enough to send him into another burst of uncontrollable emotions, he knows immediately that his absolute first priority is to get to the party before you dropped your guard even more. He can’t even begin to imagine what would happen—his thoughts getting the best of him given that Jungkook doesn’t trust a little more than half of the overall human population and those fragments of alternative realities is what forces his feet to slam on the gas pedal and his eyes to frantically scan back and forth on the street to ensure that he would most definitely not miss the house.

He doesn’t. He gets the house right, and luckily doesn’t need to be double checking his work because not only are there long rows of cars parked along the sidewalk, but also a handful of people are littered outside along the porch. Given the quiet neighbor, their hushed voices make sense, but they’re all holding bottles and cups that leaves little to the imagination. Jungkook parks, steps out of his car, shuffles towards the house and his approaching figure is barely spared a glance as he makes his way up the steps and into the house.

Inside, the conversations are a little louder, a little more rowdy—the laughter is freer, a mixture of different voices are heard ringing down the hallway and the rooms that individuals have gathered in. But none of those things matter to Jungkook. He doesn’t care about the prospect of drinking with strangers, the typically alluring temptation of free alcohol. The only thing he cares about it—!

“Jungkook?” A voice sounds from one of the couches in the empty living room, the familiarity of the tone forcing him to stop completely in his tracks as he whirls around towards the source of the noise. His heart does that painful stuttering thing it always does when he sees you and he can practically feel the desperation and overwhelming swell of emotions erupting throughout his body—like that time you stepped out his bathroom for the first time in his clothes or the first time he woke up next you and saw the golden rays of morning light hitting all the curves and angles of your face. Or one instance post-coitus tangled with one another atop the mattress, deep breath matched into the evening, his fingers and eyes developing an intense fixation on your lips; that was the moment he realized he was in love with you.

And now those emotions seem to be hitting him like a wave the longer he stands there staring at you, taking you in because even though you are curled up on the couch half asleep, you’ve never looked more beautiful and months apart definitely does not change that.

“H-Hey,” Jungkook manages, taking the few steps towards you, quickening his pace slightly when he notices you struggling to sit yourself up on the couch. “Wait, don’t do that, you��ll hurt yourself,” He instructs lightly, kneeling before you yet you still attempt to pull yourself up. You are somehow able to get your arm underneath yourself, using your strength to push your body. Your head almost falls to the side but Jungkook starts forward to hold the side.

Your eyes slowly find his, flickering upwards until they land upon his face and the corner of your lips quirk up in a tired yet gorgeous smile. “Hi Jungkook,” You whisper, your voice that low huskiness that always takes form when you’ve drank too much and yelled too much. He remembers bits and pieces of your drunken facade and knows this particular one to be your tired and exhausted shell. “It’s been awhile.”

You sound significantly less drunk than you had been over the phone, which he takes to be a good sign and that you’ve spent the few minutes it has taken Jungkook to drive from his house to this to sober up and start the process of trying to make yourself as well as you possibly could be in this state.

“I know,” He returns back.

You laugh, a mere exhale through your nose, eyes drifting close for a second before they open again. “This is’not how I wanted you to see me after all this time.”

He smiles softly. “Pretty sure I’ve seen you through worse.” And it’s true. He definitely has. “C’mon, my car is right outside.”

For a second, Jungkook is not entirely sure what to do with his hands. Under normal circumstances he would have no doubts about gathering you in his arms and leading you to his car himself, but these are not normal circumstances so he just settles with bringing a hand down to the curve of your waist.

“Can you stand up for me?”

Keeping both hands on his shoulders, it helps propel you upwards and although you aren’t completely uncoordinated, you still cling to him and Jungkook allows you to lean on him heavily as he holds you close in order to guide you out of the house and down the lawn.

You hum quietly under your breath, eyes fixated downwards to watch your footing. “Do you remember…” You start slowly, the exhaustion from the alcohol starts to eat away at your system. “Do you remember my house… like, where it is?”

“Yeah, yeah I remember where it is,” He answers, slowly open the passenger door and leaning over to help you sit down. You practically slump against on the seat, providing the further fluidity of your bones and muscles, still doing enough in dragging out the sheepish laugh from Jungkook. As if by instinct, he reaches over to tug the seat belt over your frame, crossing over your body to lock the buckle in place. This forces himself closer to you, forces him within such a close proximity to your frame that he can smell the lingering after effects of alcohol fill up his nose. But underneath that, he can still smell your perfume and the lavender scent of your shampoo. He clears his throat. “Uh, you good?”

You nod slowly, gaze unwavering from his face as he pulls away far enough to meet your eyes. You are unwavering, orbs flickering back and forth with a scary intensity that he momentarily questions the level of intoxication you are under. The only way he can know for sure is through the glassy complexion of your eyes.

“What?” He speaks, feeling too self-conscious to ignore the look across your features.

You inhale slowly. “You smell the same.” There is a sense of longing in your voice that Jungkook is almost sure is just the alcohol talking.

Almost.

He takes in a breath. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” He says, not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or you more. “Just try to get some rest, okay?” You look like you’re about to open your mouth to further explain your situation—because a tired you equates to a rambling you—but he pulls back and slams the car door shut without a word.

Not for long though, because he reappears on the driver’s side, sliding into place and sliding the key into the ignition to start the car up.

“Being drunk has nothing to do with how you smell the same,” You note quietly, shifting to stare longingly out of the window.

“Being drunk means everything,” He returns, making sure to keep his grip tight on the steering wheel keep himself focused on the road rather than you. “It means you’ll say something you’ll probably regret in the morning.”

“I highly doubt that,” You say, but he doesn’t believe you. Even when you readjust yourself once more to stare at his side profile. “Jungkook, I missed you,” You start. “So, so, so much.”

Despite his increasing heart rate, he manages a weak laugh. “You’re just saying that because I’m picking you up from a party.”

“No, no, no,” You protest, shaking your head. “Not true. I mean it. I missed you so much.”

That statement forces his mind into a complete 180 rotation as Jungkook is so startled at your confession that his foot accidentally slams down on the gas, forcing the pair of you to dart forward at such a speed that both heads slam against the back of the seats. Jungkook curses loudly, managing a right turn just before the overhead light turns red.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up as he tightens his grip on on the wheel. “Fucking hell—Y/N don’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” You protest, leaning back against the headrest of the seat. Your eyes slide shut and stay closed for a few seconds. “It’s true…” You let out a gentle sigh from between your lips, grumbling something that he can’t make out and Jungkook decides to take advantage of your incoherent nature to just fix the rest of his attention back on the road. Seriously, if you could keep your mouth shut for the next five minutes, he could actually maintain some semblance of his sanity to prevent any further potential accidents.

Luckily, aside from the occasional hum that leaves your lips, you are quiet which allows Jungkook to carefully navigate the streets before finally pulling up to the curbside in front of your apartment complex. The sight definitely brings back memories, but he swallows them down long enough to take himself out of the driver side and make his way back around to your side of the vehicle.

You’re still hunched against the seat when Jungkook opens the door, eyes closed and lips parted and bombarding him with memories of good times, better times, that he almost doesn’t reach him to shake you awake.

Key word: almost.

He leans in to gently grip your shoulder. “Y/N, we’re here.”

You open your eyes just as he’s reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Jungkook doesn’t get far because just as he’s about to pull back, your hands dart out to grasp at the hem of his jacket. Despite your sleepy facade, your grip is surprisingly strong and it keeps Jungkook within a close distance to your face.

He swallows down his heart threatening to crawl its way out of his throat.

“I’m not… fucking around Jungkook,” You insist. “The months when you’re not with me suck. They really fucking suck and…” You aren’t drunk but you definitely still are battling with the remnants of alcohol clouding your mind and judgment and Jungkook wants you to stop, wants you to put a halt to something you will surely regret in the morning, but he also knows that you would chew him out for continuously trying to interrupt you. Even if it’s for your own personal benefit. You’re funny and stubborn and adorable and endearing in this sense.

Back to reality. He blinks, biting his lip, hoping you cannot hear his rapidly increasing pulse drumming underneath the skin. Rather than put a stop to it, he can’t help himself this time around. He encourages your drunken mind. “What are you trying to say?”

Your gaze dances across his face, eyes still glazed and shimmering underneath the light of the car and the lights from the building behind the pair of you.

Then, without a warning, you lean forward and dust your lips against his.

For a moment, everything seems to leave Jungkook. Everything: from his sanity to his state of mind to the ground behind his feet to his sense of balance and belonging, leaving him alone with his raw and infinite love for you and a desire for more more more. He barely processes the way your hands move up from the hem of his shirt to the collar until you’re luring him in again for another kiss, one a little bit more firm and a little bit more intoxicating.

Jungkook practically whimpers at the kiss, a little noise of desire escaping from the back of his throat, because holy fucking shit, it may just be because he hasn’t kissed anyone over the past few months or maybe just because he hasn’t kissed you that’s making him feel this way, making him realize just how much he really fucking misses you and how perhaps breaking up wasn’t the best idea. For a split second, he longs to forget that you’re drunk, that you’re definitely not in your right state of mind, that you broke up for a valid (unfortunate) reason, that this is wrong. So very absolutely wrong.

Although it hurts every bone in his body, Jungkook has to force himself to turn away and pull back from you. “W-Wait,” He manages, processing the fact that his voice is low from the events that have just happened. His cheeks feel warm and he feels lightheaded, but he forces himself to stay focused on what is the right thing to do and definitely not trying to notice the way you look: from the flushed cheeks to the darkened lips to the distracted eyes. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.”

The light once flickering so hopefully in your gaze dies down at his firm words, as you cast your head downwards in a mixture of utter shame and embarrassment. He can hear the gears turning frantically in your mind, can feel the way your hands pull away from his frame to settle tightly on your lap, can see the way you press your lips together as if you’re trying to keep yourself from saying anything further.

But his eyes widen as you inhale sharply before a heart-wrenching sob tears itself from your throat. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, but it does little to stop the hiccups and Jungkook can only watch helplessly as you crumble apart right before his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You admit quietly, such a soft whisper that he almost doesn’t hear you but he does and you are so broken that Jungkook’s own heart cannot be protected as he kneels down with eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Questions swarm around his mind, desperately trying to figure out what to say because he should have known this would happen. He should have remembered that at the end of the day, after the laughter and the exhaustion have taken their phase in your identity like passage of the moon—it all ends with this. It all ends with the emotional part of you, when the alcohol gets to your head and leaves nothing but a sobbing mess behind over anything and everything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You start to ramble, each word broken up by a sharp inhale for air like your tears are drowning you. “I’m so sorry Jungkook, I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry…”

“Hey,” Jungkook starts. “Hey, stop apologizing. Why are you apologizing? Why are you crying?”

The questions do little but prompt further crying as another strangled sob escapes your throat and you turn your head with a refusal to even look in his general direction. Your jaw is clenched together, your hand is still at your mouth as if attempting to muffle your whimpers to little success.

“B-Because,” You stammer, your whole body shaking with the effort to contain the wave of your sufferings. Jungkook’s heart stutters painfully in his chest, sinking down to his stomach, as the words of how this was all his fault ring like a bell in his mind. “Because you probably hate me. You hate me, d-don’t you?”

He scoots a little closer. “No, no, of course I don’t. Y/N, where did you get that idea?”

You shake your head, eyes slamming shut. “H-How could you not hate me? I just kissed you and we’re not even together anymore, we haven’t been together for months and it just hurts so so much because I’m stupid, I’m so stupid…”

“Y/N, take a breath, you have to calm down,” Jungkook speaks gently, bravely reaching over to rest his hand on your knee, attempting to draw soothing patterns over the denim and hoping more than anything that you can feel the warmth and reassurance of his touch against your skin. “You aren’t making any sense. Why would you call yourself stupid?”

You pull your hand away from your mouth and you glare at him through your tears. Your face is bright red and wet with tears, but still so beautiful it really hurts. “Because I’m still in love with you,” You speak, swallowing down your uneven breathes and forcing yourself to make the statement as clearly as possible. “Because I’m still in love with you, and I’ve been trying to get over you this entire time to no luck. A-And I thought going to that dumb party would help me, but I-I guess not because I’m here being an asshole and trying to kiss you even though you hate me…” Your face crumbles and you look like you’re on the verge of tears all over again.

“Y/N,” Jungkook speaks up, leaning forward. “Y/N, please, stop beating yourself up for this. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you—you were the most important person in my life. I mean… you still are.”

You sniff, reaching up to wipe at your nose. “What are you trying to say?”

“I miss you too,” He replies quietly, gazing down for a moment to study the rest of your body. “I miss you so much all the time it hurts. If I had to give up a penny for every time I wanted to call you or text you… well, I’d probably be broke.”

You blink away the layer of tears clouding your vision. “D-Do you mean that?”

“I would never lie to you,” He admits, looking down and gently reaching over to grasp your hand. He runs his thumb over your skin, momentarily basking in the skin-on-skin contact with you.

Your body jolts with the occasional hiccup as you quietly try to let the previous wave of sobbing pass over you. “I’m sorry,” You whisper again. “I probably made a mess of your evening.”

He shakes his head before he even realizes what he’s doing. “No, it’s okay, I’m just glad to see you home safely.”

You look down at your joined hands. “S-Since you miss me, and I miss you,” You start, biting on your lip. “Can we start over?”

He gazes up at you. Every nerve in his body screams YES, because goddamn, it has been too long and he’s sure that if the universe was willing to give the pair of you another chance, you both would do anything and everything to make it work and not fall into those same traps that broke you apart last time. He has wanted a lot of things, but never has badly as this and he wants to hold you tightly and crush you to his chest and inhale your lavender—and yet.

The sinking sensation seems to hit him in that moment that you’re still drunk and under the influence and thus, not in your right state of mind. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He doesn’t think he can handle that.

He lets out a sigh. “If you remember this tomorrow,” He says. “Then we can.”

You start fading again as he takes you out of his car and helps you up the stairs to the correct floor of your apartment, helps your roommate in guiding you into your bedroom, and leaves with a prompt ‘just… take care of her, please…’ with such a sad edge to his voice that Karly gives him a sympathetic pat on the back and a request to drive home safely.

He does, but there is a longing in his chest, a doubt, a warning not to expect too much from this situation.

He loves you too much for the disappointment.

The next morning, he wakes up to surprisingly sunny skies, golden rays, and a text.

from you [7,18am]: Since you miss me and I miss you, can we start over?

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get use to your unpredictability, your determination—and for the first time in months, his smile is brighter than the outside.

#bangtan bookclub #bts writing cafe #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #traci writes

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crimeronan · 4 years

Note

ik youre not a therapist and i dont want like therapy or anything but im 17 and ive known i was bipolar for 3 years now and i dont know how im supposed to live the rest of my life like this. im so fucking tired. how do you stay alive

you sent this a couple days ago & i’m posting at a weird time so i’m not sure if you’ll see it but.

i’ve been looking at this message trying to decide how to respond

because i don’t know your situation, your symptoms, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with medication, psychiatrists, therapists, hospitals, all that related shit

the bipolar life advice i give to people is vastly different depending on the individual. it’s not a one size fits all thing. and there’s never even a guarantee that my advice will be the right choice

so since i don’t know about your situation or experiences or what you want, i’m not gonna tell you what to do. i’m gonna focus on the “how do you stay alive” question and try to pen down some personal feelings. and if they help then great, and if they don’t then... this is the most honest i can be

(you can always ask another question to get a better answer. my inbox is a coin slot and i am a vending machine of varied-degrees-of-helpfulness replies offered at varied-inconvenient-too-long-intervals)

how do i stay alive

it’s a 2-parter, actually. i pondered how to condense my thoughts/feelings, and it came down to these two things

1. love 2. spite

1. love

the spite is easier to write about than the love. love is hard to reach when i feel like shit.

spite is where i go when i want to die. love is where i go when i want to want to live.

maybe i don’t want to be alive. but maybe i wish i did. spite doesn’t help me much there. spite keeps me afloat, but it doesn’t make the floating pleasurable. there’s more to life than outlasting everything that ever hurt me. i need a reason to continue when there’s no enemy to fight

so. love

i almost wrote about the spite alone because that’s rawer, realer, more visceral. that’s the shit that CONNECTS when everything feels hopeless. but it would be a lie of omission. spite is only one of the major food groups, you’ll waste away from malnutrition if you eat it for every meal. or at least, i will.

“so you’ve got a bunch of people you love,” you say, “and you stick around for them. cry on them. support each other. like each other. fine.” you’ve heard this story before

nah.

i mean - yes. i have people i love. i live with two partners, i’ve got a third girlfriend, i’ve got a long-distance platonic life partner. i have a support net, i have a family i’ve forged, i have confidence that i’m not alone. i have, in a bare-bones checklist sort of way, fulfilled my physiological human need for connection

but i could live without every single one of them. i’m not dependent upon any of them for my survival. i’m not dependent upon them for love, given or received. (this isn’t a callous cruelty, it won’t hurt them if/when they read this. i’ve told them all this, they know. they’re glad of it.)

so. what the fuck does “love” mean, then?

the short explanation is that it’s my love of life, of things in the world. it’s all the little connections i’ve made. every time i love something, a hook tethers to the universe. hook enough tethers, and i no longer feel the need to float away. no dissolution of self today, sir

the rest of this section is some of the things i love. partially it’s to show how i connect to little things and ascribe magic to the mundane. partially it’s because i like thinking about things i love, i like typing them out, and i like that i could keep going for thousands and thousands of words.

i am laying in bed at 7:30 AM with the lights off and the shades drawn. blue light comes through the slats because it’s the better time of year, the one where i finally get vitamin D, the one where the birds chirp at 4AM, the one where the sky isn’t impenetrably black til 10PM.

there’s a weighted blanket tucked around my legs. my partner rafi bought it for us to share because it’s soothing and heavy and comforting and helps with my physical pain. right now it’s soft on my skin and if i get too emotional as i write, i can pull it over me like a cloak until i’m settled.

the apartment’s walls are blank because we’ve spent eight months intending to put art up and keep forgetting. but there’s a newly-unearthed dining area in the kitchen because i finally shifted around the unpacked boxes that were dominating the space. it’s new and it surprises me every time i walk out there. it’s open and inviting and bright and it’s a sign that we’re making this place home.

we’ll put a cheap IKEA table by the window and we’ll probably never eat family dinners there - why would we sit in hard chairs and make stiff conversation when we could all cuddle on the couch - but my partner dev will create a place to do their art and the surface will be constantly littered with drying watercolor experiments.

we’ll hang our art one of these days, too, when our collective adhd offers a miraculous combo of remembering + having time + having motivation + having inspiration. rafi has the most art because they’ve been collecting it for years. i have to start smaller. i’m not used to keeping physical objects. dev has a few pieces thrifted or bought at local artist events or painted themselves

so we’ll put art up in the living room, my single “you are magic” flower print alongside a naked monster lady that dev fell in love with when we browsed art at a yuletide event months ago, alongside rafi’s monster girls and comic characters and book characters and literature art and quotes and abstract pieces and whatever else they have hiding in boxes.

my head protests that naked monster ladies do not belong in the living room, although the picture isn’t overtly sexual. but then i remember that they do, actually, because it’s our space and we can do whatever we want with it as long as the lease isn’t broken. there isn’t anyone in the local social circles who’d be perturbed by the decor, as far as i know. i don’t have to hide anything from my parents because i live 3600 miles from them, and even though i miss my mom, the distance is good for me

there are two exquisite chairs on the porch. they fold and recline from thrones to nearly-horizontal beds. there are pillows and cupholders and trays and specific spaces for both a book and a phone. i can sit there while the morning sun rises and read or play word games or browse tumblr, cup of coffee beside me, trees shielding my eyes from stabby sunbeams

there are remnants of the last tenant’s garden in one corner of the yard. we’ve done fuckall for yardwork but plants struggle through anyway. some seem to have sprouted by accident. mushroom clusters populate the edges of the fence. the apartment squirrel (there are probably several, but i like to think it’s a single energetic creature) runs back and forth along the fence & i always lose my train of thought & then laugh my ASS off at the “SQUIRREL! XD” adhd moment. birds kick up leaf litter and play on the ground looking for insects to eat, they wiggle their tail feathers and flap their wings and sometimes they disappear and then return with friends

a little more than eleven months ago, i packed all of dev’s and my shit into a uhaul and drove and drove and drove to get to this city i’d never been in before to live with a partner i’d never cohabitated with. we were homeless for more than a month, we weathered some financial disasters, we met some great people and some shitty ones

on the drive i fell in love with the sky. i didn’t know how big it can get - actually, that’s a lie. i’d FORGOTTEN how big it can get. i’ve loved the sky thirty miles out to sea, no land in sight in any direction, just blue water and blue space above. i’ve loved the vastness and the yawning beneath me and the knowledge that everything is BIGGER than i can fathom. the depth of the sea doesn’t frighten me, it’s home. i don’t want to die, but if i had to, the ocean makes a soothing grave

in north dakota i discovered that i’ve been partially blind my whole life, which is a different tale that showed me i’ll never stop learning myself. in montana we struggled up thousands of feet of mountains with the car huffing and puffing at the trailer’s weight, and when we finally coasted downward, it felt like sudden freefall. we ended up in the pitch darkness of night on sheer winding interstates with midnight construction projects forcing detours. the mountains felt hungry, they had teeth. mountain cliffs are much scarier to me than the ocean depths

i bought a red bull and poured a little out the driver’s side door as an offering to hermes, because i’m not particularly religious but i’ll take help where i can get it. slammed that back in a few gulps and shook to bright-eyed alertness and ended up behind a slow-driving red pickup truck that guided us over about a hundred miles of mountain terrain

i thought, that’s just some construction worker driving between sites. the roads are empty at this time of night, but it’s an interstate. of course we’d end up behind someone. this isn’t divine intervention. this isn’t the benevolence of a god

i thought, but it can be a little magic. if i want it to be.

and it was. it stays with me.

god help me but i’ve been writing this stream of consciousness for more than 30 minutes and i’ve said nothing. i haven’t talked about the city, the parks, the people, the conversations, the books, the tv shows, the movies, the communities, the library, the animals, writing, reading, singing, acting, swimming, analyzing, creating, supporting, building. and i can keep going. i can come up with hundreds and hundreds of things i love and i can write paragraphs about all of them

so i’ll stop here. you get the picture. love is the life i’ve made for myself, the surroundings i’ve built, the quiet moments i can capture, the inspiration i pin, the magic i commit to memory.

i had to work so damn hard for every single bit of this.

i’ll be fucking damned if i let it go because my brain tried to trick me into thinking death is better.

2. spite

there are people who want me to die.

i don’t mean that i have a giant entourage of personalized enemies who curse my name and plan my individual demise. although there have been plenty of people who have not liked me much. probably some of them would enjoy my death. i don’t give a shit about that

there are people who want me dead because i am a dot on a grid they dislike. a faceless anonymous enemy who meets too many bad criteria with numbers and percentages and shrinking majorities and shifting public opinion

because i’m gay. because i’m bipolar. because i’m autistic. because i’m a dropout. because i grew up poor. because my spine curves and my shoulders ache. because i squandered my potential, because i didn’t have enough potential, because i didn’t love god enough, because i love the wrong gods, because i don’t worship, because i worship wrong, because i didn’t seek a husband, because i never wanted one, because i talk too much, because i can’t be controlled, because i chose to leave the fold when i realized it was suffocating me, because i’m ugly, because i’m gorgeous, because my body belongs to me

pick your poison.

this bothered me growing up, a lot. i knew i did not deserve to die. but if enough people tell you that you should, a little part of you will wonder if they’re right. that little part might become bigger the closer they get and the louder they shout and the longer they wear you down

we know the rough shape of this story, i don’t need to tell it. mine was messy and not triumphant and i survived more by chance than premeditation.

i’m older now. by and large i’m still young as shit - i’m 24 - but GOD i am LEAGUES away from 15, 16, 17. i know who i am. i know what i want. i know how to get it. and when i don’t know that, i find out. i tell the truth. i ask for what i want. i use my time how i want. i do what i want.

there are days that i can’t access the “love” side of the equation. no finding poetry in birdsong or sugared coffee for me, thank you, i feel like shit and the world is awful and everything is too big and fast and cruel and everything wants me to die and it wants everything i love to die, too. everyone i love. it’s all garbage. the good doesn’t touch me

trauma is difficult to describe. the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my trauma is influenced by my various neurodivergences, bipolar included. i never know if i’m feeling what other people do. i don’t know if i’m voicing unpalatable feelings others are afraid to express - or if i’m just othering myself, admitting i’m not as human as everyone else.

there is something malevolent and monstrous inside me. i don’t touch it all the time. but i don’t pretend it isn’t there. it sits in my chest and molders or radiates or oozes. it presses at my throat. it curdles in my stomach. it hurts what it touches, whether that’s me or someone i love or someone i hate. it sets things aflame with no regard for the precious or the fragile. it tears down walls and razes shelters and begs for apocalyptic rain.

i can give this thing names, clinical descriptors. i know what it is on a diagnostic chart, in a ponderous article, in an academic debate, in a fiction novel, in a war movie, in a memoir. there are a thousand ways to describe this thing. the descriptors aren’t important. what is important is this - i have learned that most people do not walk side-by-side with a tornado-hurricane-hellfire-weaponized-open-nuclear-reactor. this is not a “normal” expression of human emotion, this is not me trying to ascribe power to “bad bipolar feelings.” this thing lives in me and i know why it’s there and it is not designed to be held/silenced/muzzled/controlled by my body.

it does not help to pretend this thing does not exist. it does not help to try to reason it away or ignore it or tell it to stop. it wants what it wants, it does what it does. possibly if i was better at therapy or stubbornness then i wouldn’t resign myself to that

but it is fucking EXHAUSTING to try to fight something that’s part of me. to try to reshape it, rename it, pare it down, make it consumable for the masses. it’s a war i have never won and it’s a war that i will lose if i keep fighting it. i cannot fight with myself. i cannot beat my monster into submission. if we’re gonna battle like that, head to head, me trying to cut it down, me trying to be the hero, it rearing back like a fire-breathing dragon,

then it’s stronger. it’s always stronger.

so i surrender.

but that’s not where i stop.

can’t fight it. can’t kill it. can’t muzzle it. can’t reshape it, can’t disarm it, can’t contain it.

alright.

so what now.

if the surrender was a full giving-up, this is where i’d passively accept that i’m doomed to hurt and destroy everything precious to me. can’t fix it. will lose everything, will never experience or deserve happiness, will make the world worse simply by existing.

that sure does sound like impending-doom rhetoric. hop skip and a jump from some dire-ass conclusions.

so fuck that, i say.

here’s a better question.

if it has to get out, then what happens if i control where it goes?

here’s the thing.

the monster doesn’t care what it kills or destroys or hurts.

“have a conscience, care about things, remember love, stop yourself, don’t do this don’t do this don’t do this.”

losing battle. lost war.

it’s not the monster’s fault. the monster doesn’t have complex motivations or hates or fears. it exists to protect me through scorched earth. a remnant of a chemical imbalance, maladaptive coping mechanism, bipolar crazy, traumatized injury. it doesn’t know that its job is obsolete.

i can’t change the monster.

but my mind is a separate thing. my mind knows what matters, what my priorities are, what i find precious, what i want to protect. my mind remembers all the things the monster doesn’t.

my mind has learned things the monster can’t.

when i fight it head-on, the malevolence is stronger than me. but as i am, walking with it, sitting in my bed writing this while examining the void and the consciousness, describing it, quantifying it,

that’s when i’m stronger.

and with my mind as the stronger force, i can decide where the monster goes. what it touches. what it destroys. what it burns. where the ashes land.

i do not want to be a destructive person. i want to be someone who builds, repairs, changes. i want to make the world better for kids like me. i want to stop pouring more gasoline onto a fire that’s been burning since long before i was born. i want to believe - i do believe - that positive change is better than negative. i do my best to plant good things and enact that positive change instead of becoming a beacon of wrath.

but there are a lot of kids surrounded by people who want them to die, and not all of them have a protective monster.

so it’s good.

when i’m depressed, my mind loses its battles. my cognizance slips. i forget why i care. i forget what i want. i forget how happiness feels, how to find pleasure in quiet moments.

i don’t get depressed as often as i used to since my meds are adjusted correctly now. but it still happens. it will keep happening for the rest of my life.

my mind weakens and curls up and stops fighting, and the monster is always there.

it’s a very powerful thing when it wants to be.

it wants to survive.

the thing is, it knows there are people that want me/us/whatever dead. it’s been fighting them forever. die like they want? my mind says, sure, what does it matter.

the monster says, nah. our work isn’t done. and fuck them, anyway.

so we get up.

so that’s how i stay alive.

i typed this for 90 minutes and after editing i’d spent two hours on this post. i don’t know if anyone will read it all. i don’t know if it’ll mean anything. i don’t know if these thoughts even make sense, much less if i’ve conveyed the feelings i have.

i love being alive. and when i don’t, i love being a monster. it’s good. all of it is good. i’ve reconciled my uglier pieces. it’s not one or the other, love or spite. it’s symbiosis. i need both, i love both.

no guarantees that this is helpful, but based purely on my own life experience, these are my tips for survival:

you’ll have to find your own roots. i can’t give them to you.

but it’s possible to dig them in and spread them far enough that one uprooted peg doesn’t shift your whole equilibrium.

and when you’re tired, rest, and let yourself be tired, and find the reason why you’re staying in the world.

i’m positive there’s at least one.

figure out why you’re losing your battles and then change the game.

if you can’t win one setup, don’t try to beat the system. adjust your strategy.

you’ll be surprised by what you can love when you stop fighting the disparate pieces of you, and instead figure out how to use them.

#i have several other questions to answer in my inbox if you've asked me st over the past few weeks #im not ignoring it im figuring out how to phrase my reply #replies #bipolar blogging #actuallybipolar #my writing #life advice #long post #REALLY long post #it's under a read more but if mobile deletes it i apologize #c ptsd tag #suicide m #ok to reblog #Anonymous

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