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ja3yun · 2 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | Ch.3

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), oral (f. rec), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating, it's the dirtiest smut I've written, sexual harassment**, violence, mentions of blood, anything else lmk! ch.3 synopsis: to get sunghoon off your mind, your friends suggest tagging along to a party, but things don't go as planned and you're driven closer to sunghoon than ever before. wc: 16.8k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i have decided to give you this all early since i finished the editing early. it's actually my birthday tomorrow so i won't have time to finalise it, please take this as my gift to you! thank you for the love on the last few chapters, it means so much that you are enjoying it, and as always, comments, likes, and feedback are always appreciated! **the sexual harassment scene is small but as it can make people uncomfortable, i have put <*> before and after the scene! (this is also the only scene in the whole fic like this just fyi!) yn explains what happened with little detail later on so you won't miss anything by skipping it!

For the past week, you've been engulfed in misery. It's as though you're trapped in a downward spiral, confined to your bed while your hair tangles into knots.

A massive part of your despair was the aching in your chest from pondering what could have been, the unknown of if you ended something that could have bloomed into something wonderful. You had never felt like this before, not through any of your situationships or even that one failed relationship when you were 16 and thought they were the one.

Adding to your distress is the burden of deceiving your brother about the situation. Minhee came to check in on you every day to make sure you were okay. Of course, you didn’t tell him you were going through emotional turmoil, simply portraying the act of a sickly Victorian child who was too poor to leave the bed. He bought it at the beginning but now you can see him starting to question your sneeze’s authenticity.

Still, he was there looking after you, bringing you your favourite Lucozade and going all away across town for that vegetable soup you loved. Why did he have to be so nice?

Currently, your room has been infiltrated by Allen and Rina. You haven’t messaged them or attended Uni since last Thursday and Rina being the overdramatic friend she is, came barging into your room, wearing all black to ‘mourn the time lost between you’. She wasn’t exactly enthralled by your reasoning for the lack of communication.

"So you're telling me," she exclaimed, flinging herself onto your bed, "that you, my best, most cherished friend, couldn't even bother to message me because of some guy?" her words hit you like a slap, "And not just any guy, but one you've barely spent, what, nine hours with?"

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as her words ring true; you have been wallowing over someone you hardly know, "So what if you slept with him? He's just a man, Y/N. Men are easily replaceable!" Allen shoots his girlfriend a sceptical glance, but she disregards him entirely.

You can't argue with her logic; you know how absurd it must sound to everyone else, "It's not just him, Rina," you murmur, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, "it's Minhee too."

"Minhee's always been protective of you, especially when it comes to your flings," Rina interjects, her tone softened slightly, "Allen, back me up on this." Her boyfriend hesitates for a moment before reluctantly nodding in agreement, "She has got a point, Y/N," he admits, shrugging apologetically.

Burying your head into your hands you groan loudly, almost verging on a scream, “You guys didn’t see him when he thought I only got a lift from him, he was all like ‘If you two are dating I’ll tear him limb from limb’ it was so scary,” you recount the scene from last week with Minhee, though judging by their reactions, you realize you're failing to convey just how serious he appeared, "He sees Sunghoon as his arch-nemesis! And I slept with him! And I want to do it again!"

“Y/N, babe, it is not that fucking serious he isn’t Batman and Sunghoon isn’t Penguin.”

"Wait, isn't Batman's arch-rival the Joker?" Allen interjects, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Allen, really? Now's not the time for comic book trivia," Rina scolds, shaking her head. "But my point remains," she continues, sitting up and clasping your hands in hers, "I promise you, Minhee won't lose it just because you're involved with Sunghoon." You're at a loss for words, partly because she makes a valid point about Minhee's dramatic tendencies, and if Rina is calling you out for being dramatic, you know it must be true.

Allen walks over to you and sits on the floor beside your bed, placing a hand on your knee “I think the best thing for you, Y/N, is just to leave it. Don’t get involved between them, just-”

“Find someone else!” Rina shouts, pouncing up like a tiger ready to attack, “Baby, you’re a genius! Y/N, we need to find you some at the party tonight!” As quick as a flash, she’s in your wardrobe looking for an outfit, flinging stuff behind her to clear her view, “You need something so diabolically sexy it’ll have every man’s dick standing to attention.” Your best friend always had a way of describing things.

Looking down at Allen you see his sorry expression but you don’t mind, Rina has always been like this since you were little, always full of life and vibrant. She has been your best friend since she asked you to eat a worm in primary 2 to enter her secret club, one eaten worm, and a trip to the medical room because you vomited said worm right back up later, you were inseparable. You weren’t a quiet person but with her around you might as well have been a mouse next to a lion, and you loved her for it.

"What party?" you inquire, looking at the chaos in your room that you'll inevitably have to clean up later. "I haven't heard of any parties happening on campus tonight." Being Rina's best friend definitely had its perks, as her popularity ensured invitations to every cliche social event.

"There's a party on the other side of town at Yeonjun's house, and all the hottest hockey players are going to be there," Rina announces with excitement, twirling around as she brandishes an ivory white cami dress with ruffled detailing on the straps and bust. How did she even find that? The last time you wore it was three years ago to your brother's 17th birthday party.

"Rina, I wore that when I was 16. It's not going to fit anymore. Bodies change, you know, and thankfully, my boobs have gotten bigger since then," you protest, trying to reason with her.

Blowing out air, Rina throws it at you with force whacking you in the face with it, “Squeeze into it. We’re going and you’re wearing that with those nice black Naked Wolfe dupes you got from Pretty Little Thing.” With no room to argue you fold it up in your arms.

“Since when did we go to Choi's parties? Didn’t he reject you and you swore to never to even breathe the same air again?” Rina had the biggest crush on Yeonjun but when she asked him to take her on a date he flat out said no and with zero explanation. Rina doesn’t take no for an answer so when it was a brutal rejection like that, she was on the warpath to make him regret it, it got so bad you had to physically stop her from signing him up to the Army.

Still rifling through your closet, Rina finds the boots and a matching leather jacket. "Yeah, well, I've matured," she quips with a mischievous grin.

“She’s going to use me to make it clear that she’s over him, which is right isn’t it babe, you’re over him.” Bless Allen, Rina did truly love him and there wasn’t a more perfect fit for her, but even he knew she couldn’t let a grudge go. Nodding her head she agrees, shining a wide grin to her very understanding and loving boyfriend.

One day you’ll find someone like Allen.

Rina gives you a time limit of 2 hours to get ready as she runs home with Allen to get changed herself. Parties are great, they’re fun and you can forget everything for a night, get drunk, and make terrible decisions to mask the ones you’ve already made. You haven’t been to any parties other side of town so this is the one time to undoubtedly let loose and embarrass yourself. It was in Sunghoon’s territory though, but he never goes to parties so you’re safe from the awkwardness of bumping into him.

Right on time, Rina and Allen are outside in a Lyft, the driver honking you down. You do one last check of your hair and makeup which you did to match the weird Bride of Chucky aesthetic Rina has set out, it’s not anything amazing, just some eyeliner and straight hair but you do look good.

“You can do this Y/N.” Whispering encouragement to yourself before you run downstairs. Minhee was out with friends and your mum was off galovanting somewhere, so you didn’t have to worry about them asking why you’re suddenly fit as a fiddle.

Tonight you have one job - to forget about Sunghoon and let your mind be free of any thoughts.

____

Arriving at the party, it’s already kind of busy, enough people that you have to weave your way through the hallway and into the living area which has now become overrun with loud Uni students. Everyone dresses up so nicely in this part of the city, it’s like you walked straight into Paris with how glamorous everyone looks. It makes you feel a little inferior but that can change with a few double vodkas and too many tequila roses.

Yeonjun's shared house is a bit chaotic but undeniably spacious, which means it takes you a bit of time to locate the booze amidst the clutter. The occupiers of the house, all members of the Albion Hockey Team, are part of the reason Sunghoon ended up skating at Belmore, and by extension, part of the reason you're now on a mission to drink their place dry.

As you step into the kitchen to pour yourself something, Rina beats you to it, already lining up some plastic neon shot glasses.

Looking around, you see a few potential boys you could harmlessly flirt with, none of them as pretty as Sunghoon, but no one could ever be, you haven’t seen anyone as ethereal as him since you were a little 7-year-old girl.

But tonight isn’t about him, well it is, but it’s about forgetting how perfectly his hair falls on his face, or how his eyebrows are so gorgeously thick and dark, and those freckles that are scattered on his face in all the right places are just perfect to kiss, and how his cock was the only one that made you feel satisfied, and ho-

“See anyone you like?” Rina’s voice thankfully rips you from your thoughts, pushing a shot into one of your hands and a pint glass of something in the other. Hurriedly, you down your shot and chase it with what now you know is a quadruple vodka and orange Breezer; the measurements Rina poured were always lethal like Majorca party strip-type measurements. Allen is close behind her, clinging to her just like she loves her men to do, but he is looking around with you, assessing from a man’s perspective.

Pointing sneakily to one guy with puppy dog eyes, you say to Rina, “He looks good and dependable, and his lips are nice.”

“Y/N, who the fuck cares about ‘dependable’ you are looking for someone to fuck the name Sunghoon out of your brain.” Rina declares bluntly, earning a pinch from Allen's warning grip as he shoots her a look, silently urging her to be more supportive in your time of need. "Okay, okay, how about we just get drunk and see who comes up to you? In that outfit, you'll have them lining up," she amends, holding her cup out for cheers. Allen nods in agreement, joining in the toast.

Not even an hour later, you’ve already misplaced your jacket and the dress you had to suck yourself into is hugging you tightly as your stomach bloats from how much alcohol you’ve consumed in a short amount of time. Despite your typically high tolerance, you find yourself more intoxicated than ever, swaying to the music blaring from various Alexas scattered throughout the house. The party has swelled in size, with unfamiliar faces outnumbering the familiar ones. Yet, you can't shake the feeling of being watched, though you can't pinpoint the source.

With a cup in your hand, you stretch up and move your hips to the music but it isn’t on time, you might as well be playing one of those ‘Guess who isn’t listening to the same music’ games, but you don’t care.

A hand runs itself down your back, stopping just above your ass but you don’t stop dancing. The mystery body starts to move along with you, his groyne making its way to your backside and pressing it in so you unconsciously grind on it. You’re so far gone you don’t register it until his breath is on your neck. Turning around, you meet a set of prowling eyes that instils uneasiness.

‘This is your chance to forget about Sunghoon though’ you argue with yourself. It’s not the right call and you know it but if you disregarded the weird feeling you got from him, he was genuinely handsome, tall and burley, clearly on the hockey team, and if romance books taught you anything it’s that hockey players could fuck really good.

“Hey," he smirks, his arms encircling you as his hands find their way to your rear, giving it a firm squeeze, "You look too sexy to be on your own. Who did you come with? A boyfriend?" His question seems calculated, an attempt to gauge your receptiveness, though you doubt the presence of a boyfriend would deter him in the slightest.

“I came with friends,” You try your best to play along. Rina was right, all you have to do is have a good fuck and you’ll forget about Sunghoon, not feel guilty about lying to Minhee, and everything should sort itself out…right?

Clearly, your answer pleased him because the lack of mention of a boyfriend had him giving your butt a harsh squeeze, “Why don’t you dance with me then, since they’ve ditched you.” He was a sleaze, that much was obvious but it was just a fuck at the end of the day, a one-night thing to prove that any man can give you what Sunghoon can.

So you throw caution to the wind and dance with him, trying to enjoy the way his hands are groping all over your body. He doesn’t get girls outside of parties because no man who knows how to feel a woman would be grabbing like this but those tequila roses are doing a great job at helping you not give a flying fuck right now.

Rina spots you when she comes hand in hand with Allen into the makeshift dance area and looks a little worried but you wave her off, signalling to her that you’re fine. Accepting your dismissal, she grabs Allen and takes him somewhere low-key.

<*>

Roughly 20 minutes later, the boy before you leans down, his lips on your ear, “Let’s go upstairs.” His breath blowing into your ear makes you cringe but nod and follow him as he practically drags you up the carpeted staircase and into the first empty room he finds. It doesn’t take long before his body pins you to the wall, his hands sliding up your 2 sizes too small dress already trying to get your underwear off. He wasn’t kind, or gentle, it was rough and barbarian.

Once he rids you of your pants, leaving them pooled around your ankles, he slides his finger up to your entrance, not even waiting before plunging into you mercilessly, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.” His voice sends a shiver up your spine, and not in a good way. Was this such a good idea? This isn’t what you imagined.

As he continues his attack on your hole you realise you aren’t getting any pleasure from this at all, in fact, it’s making you miss Sunghoon more. He was so attentive and caring about making you feel good and this guy is just fingering you to make sure his cock will fit. He didn’t need to bother opening you up if the imprint of him you felt when dancing was anything to go by.

The guy isn’t even kissing you, just staring at the wall behind him trying to make this quick. You need to stop this, you don’t feel good being here with him, “Uhm, I think my friends are shouting for me.” It was a pathetic excuse but hopefully, he would get the message and get off of you.

"I didn't hear anything," he dismisses, adding a second finger and increasing the pressure, causing discomfort akin to a carpet burn. His indifference only adds to your unease, and when you hear him unzipping his trousers, panic sets in.

You have mere seconds to escape this horrifying scenario. Your mind races through options, but it's clear asking him nicely won't work. With a surge of desperation, you attempt to push him away, pleading, "Really, I should go."

"Don't be a fucking tease. I put in the work," he growls, moving his weight to crush you even tighter against the wall, making escape impossible. Regret floods your mind as you realise you should have trusted your instincts about him. You should have listened to your gut, you knew he was horrible and yet you didn’t listen. A woman’s instinct is always right so why did you betray yours now?

The gears are turning in your head. Think. Your teary eyes widen and you gasp inward, doing all you can do in the situation - kick him in the balls. In a split second, you act on impulse and deliver a stinging knee to his exposed groyne. The contact sends him flying to the ground in agony.

Seizing the opportunity, you hastily adjust your underwear and flee the room, your heart racing with adrenaline and revulsion at what nearly happened.

<*>

Feeling icky and in desperate need to go home, you look for two things, Rina and your jacket; if you find your jacket first, you can phone Rina and get the fuck out of here.

Roaming around the house you see the familiar leather jacket hanging on the back of a dining room chair, all your belongings still there, thank the heavens. Unlocking your phone you dial Rina’s number but she doesn’t answer, she’s nowhere to be found in this massive place because she’s probably sucking off Allen somewhere. Shit.

As you frantically flip through your contacts, your thumb hesitates over Minhee's name. If you called him, you would never hear the end of it and it wouldn’t just be Sunghoon he would forbid you from seeing but literally any of the outside world that wasn’t school or the rink. But desperate times call for desperate measures so you scurry outside into the cold, trying to sober up a little before phoning him to pick you up.

But there's no answer from Minhee. He's probably out celebrating Jungmo's birthday with his friends, too intoxicated to even consider coming to your aid. Why did you even entertain the thought? Now he'll worry because he missed your call, you realise with a pang of guilt.

Crafting a flimsy excuse in a text message, you attempt to play it off as a casual check-in, hoping to alleviate any concern he might have.

A bolt of panic jolts through your back as you hear the guy from earlier’s voice bellowing down the stairs, calling you every name under the sun. If he found you, you don’t know what he would do, so you hide behind a group of people in the front garden, trying to blend in. Shakily, you scroll through your apps trying to find any taxi service that would come ASAP, but of course, everyone and their gran is trying to get home so as you try to book a ride the max wait time is 40 minutes.

Crumbling to the ground you sob, you just want to get away from here, you want Rina or Allen to come to find you, you want to feel safe again. You want Sunghoon.

Sunghoon. He lives on this side of town. Could you have the gall to ask him to come rescue you after you basically left him in the dust? You stand up, fixing your hair and dress, and wiping your tears away as if he can see you and hit call, “This is a bad idea, Y/N. He won’t eve-”

“Hello?” He picked up within 2 rings, not even long enough to finish your inner monologue.

Hearing his voice come through the phone makes your heart skip, you haven’t heard or seen him in a week but you would think it was years the way you choke up, “Y/N, It’s late. What do you want?”

“S-sorry I-,” You can’t get the sentence out before bawling to him on the phone, all the tears you’ve held in now overflowing tenfold. All the pent-up anguish and fear pour out, overwhelming you as you cling to the lifeline of Sunghoon's voice on the other end of the line. How can you possibly explain this to him? Even in your sober state, you doubt you could articulate the events of the evening - the desperation to forget him, the reckless decisions made in the name of distraction, the groping, it all sounds so foolish and shameful.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His voice is flooded with concern and you hear him shuffle on the other end, “Sweets, please?” he drags out the please, begging you to cooperate with him. What you don’t know is he’s putting on trousers as you cry, ready to come get you before you even have the chance to ask him, “Are you out? Is that music?”

“I’m at Yeonjun’s party.” He tenses, feeling even more worried for you than before. He knows what that crew is like and if you, a well-assured girl who can most definitely handle herself is crying, that means something bad has happened, "I'm sorry, Hoonie. I shouldn't have called. It's just... the taxis are all too far away, and I can't find Rina, and I just really need to go home," you confess in a rush, the words tumbling out in a jumble of desperation and regret.

"I'm coming to get you. Stay there, and don't talk to anyone," Sunghoon commands, his voice firm with determination. Both of you feel the same palpitations of fear and concern, the only remedy being Sunghoon's swift arrival by your side. With a swift motion, he throws on his black hoodie and bolts out the door of his flat, ignoring his flatmate's bewildered inquiries. There's no time to waste - he needs to reach you as quickly as possible.

Sitting beside a couple making out, you lift your knees and cross your arms, tucking your face into the space you’ve created. How could you be so stupid? You’ve just created a bigger mess than this had to be.

Why couldn't you have just followed Allen's advice and left it alone? No grand plan to get over Sunghoon, just accepting the choice you made and moving on. Sure, you'd be miserable, but at least you wouldn't be freezing outside a house party in an unfamiliar side of town, surrounded by strangers. The laughter of partygoers echoes around you as you cry, feeling utterly exposed and humiliated. Every approaching figure sends a shiver of fear down your spine in case it’s him, causing you to recoil further into yourself.

Your mind is doing that thing that all women do in these situations and blaming yourself for what happened, it’s tricking you into thinking you asked for it because you followed him, but you didn’t know it was going to be like that, so degrading. You feel so weak, like a damsel in distress, this wasn’t you. Maybe you should have just walked home and dealt with it on your own.

There’s an engine in the distance and you pray to anyone that it’s Sunghoon. Headlights shine through the street and the car comes to a halt, tyres screeching as it emergency brakes. Looking up you see the 6-foot-tall boy you’ve been dying to see since last Thursday. Instantly, your body relaxes knowing you’re almost safe.

Sunghoon slams the door shut and charges up to the door, he almost walks into the party but you squeak out his name loud enough he notices you, “Y/N.” The way he says your name is like he’s both relieved and desolate.

Dropping down to his knees, Sunghoon pulls you closer, his touch gentle as he softly rubs your arms to keep you warm. It's clear from your dishevelled state that you're as drunk as a skunk.

He asks what happened, concern etched into every line of his face, but you can't find the strength to articulate it. Instead, you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks unabated.

The vulnerability in your body language speaks volumes, but Sunghoon needs to know the specifics, "Please, tell me," he implores, his voice tinged with urgency and worry.

"This guy," you begin, wiping away tears as you struggle to compose yourself, "I was dancing, and he said we should go upstairs, so I did, and he..." A sob interrupts your explanation, tearing through your chest and escaping into the night air. You instinctively cover your mouth, as if trying to contain the anguish within.

After a few moments, you regain some semblance of composure and continue your slurred account. "He was touching me, which was fine at first, and then I didn't want him to anymore, and he..." The words catch in your throat, rendering you unable to finish the sentence.

Sunghoon's jaw clenches with restrained anger as he pieces it together, "Did he..." His voice trails off, the unspoken question hanging heavily between you. He doesn’t want to ask in fear of what your answer will be.

"No, I got out of there before he could," you assure him, relief evident in your voice.

Sunghoon's head falls onto your knees, relief washing over him knowing you escaped further harm, but anger simmers just beneath the surface. He wanted to commit every crime against this pervert because how dare he think he had any right to do that?

Sunghoon lifts his head back up, his eyes meeting yours and it breaks you a little because you basically just confessed to nearly fucking another man.

"You did so good, Sweets, getting away and calling me. So fucking good," he praises, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace, offering whatever comfort he can summon. He knows that a mere hug won't erase the turmoil raging within you, but it's a start, "I'm so proud of you," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded soul, eliciting even more tears from you as you allow yourself to be held tightly.

The smell of him and the softness of his hoodie was all the feeling you needed earlier, that safety you begged for. Sunghoon strokes your back, laying a few kisses atop your head between intervals of his whispered reassuring words.

Leaning back to look at you, he takes his right thumb and wipes your tears away, “Let me get you out of here.” He wanted to ransack the party for the bastard that made you cry like this, but he fights himself against it, choosing to focus on you and your needs rather than his want to kick fuck out of that guy.

“Stand up for me, Sweets.” He holds you steady while you find your footing on the grass. Once he knows you’re okay and not going to drunkenly collapse back down, he fastens up your leather jacket and wraps an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the safety of his car.

Just as he has calmed you down and you’re halfway down the front path, a venomous voice invades your ears and you tense under Sunghoon’s touch, giving him every indication of who it could be.

“There you are, gorgeous. Sorry, lad, this one’s taken.” He goes to grab you but Sunghoon blocks him and pushes him back, holding himself back from battering his lights out.

In shock, the guy glances at Sunghoon, his expression morphing into a mixture of disbelief and indignation. "Nah, this fucking cock tease owes me," he retorts, his tone dripping with contempt.

A heavy silence descends upon the scene as a crowd begins to emerge from the party, their murmurs mixing with the tension in the air. You catch snippets of conversation, people questioning Sunghoon's presence at a Choi party, knowing full well the history between him and Yeonjun.

Sunghoon and Yeonjun have had beef since they were in 3rd Year of High School after the ice skater found out Yeonjun snuck weed into his bag for a ‘joke’ and it consequently got him suspended from Skating until he proved himself through drug tests. It's a deep-seated grudge that neither of them has forgotten. Since then, he hasn’t stepped foot near Yeonjun or any of his friends.

Sunghoon steps up to the guy, staring him down. Your perpetrator might be built but Sunghoon is tall and way more intimidating, everyone can see that, “Say that again.” "Say that again," Sunghoon challenges, his voice laced with a quiet intensity, silently daring the guy to escalate the situation further. It's a dangerous game, and Sunghoon is teetering on the edge, desperate for an excuse to unleash his pent-up fury upon the guy who dared to harm you.

“That bitch is a fu-”

The garden erupts into chaos as Sunghoon's fist connects with the boy's face, the impact echoing through the air like a gunshot. The crowd gasps in shock, some scrambling to film the fight while others recoil in horror. With each blow, Sunghoon's rage intensifies, his fists raining down on his target with unrelenting force. There is no thought in his mind, only a primal instinct to protect you at all costs.

Blood gushes from the boy's nose and mouth, staining the grass crimson as he struggles to breathe due to the onslaught. He splurts out blood but that doesn’t stop Sunghoon as he shows no mercy, his relentless assault fueled by a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sheer power behind his punches threatens to shatter bones, each strike delivering a punishing blow that leaves his opponent battered and broken. You swear you hear cracks coming from the boy’s nose and jaw.

Rina and Allen run out to the commotion and watch as you try to stop him, “Hoonie, stop!” You scream as you stand still, not daring to get in the middle of it out of fear of catching a hit. Your words don’t stop him though, only making him angrier because he can hear the bubble in your throat from your tears. The boy below starts to appeal with him to stop too, not sure how much more he can take.

Pushing him forward, Rina signals for Allen to help but he’s also too scared to move, mimicking your ceased state but eventually she pushes him so hard he ends up in it anyway, grabbing Sunghoon by his hoodie to get him off. The helpful boy almost gets an elbow to the face but he swerves it.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch my girl again,” Sunghoon physically spits on him, pushing Allen off in the process.

My girl.

The words make your heart pound, even more than it already is due to the booze. Right now you should be terrified because Sunghoon just displayed about 10 red flags, but why are you not scared at all? He got so angry he nearly punched a man to death and you still feel completely safe even just being around him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’ll protect you so willingly.

Sunghoon shakes the blood from his hand, wiping some of it on his sweatpants before he finally faces you again, “Y/N…” He’s filled with anxiety that you’re petrified of him, of this protective side that even he didn’t know he possessed, “I-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you pull him into a hug, your face nuzzling into his heaving chest. A mixture of missing him and feeling grateful for his act causes you to squeeze him so tight he can’t breathe.

Sunghoon hesitates for a moment before returning the embrace, holding you close, his heart pounding against yours in rhythm. Despite everything, in this moment, you find comfort in each other's arms, a silent understanding passing between you that transcends words.

He places a side kiss on your temple and looks at you, “I’ll take you to mine.”

“No, you won’t, are you crazy?” Rina’s voice pierces through the tense atmosphere, making you stumble back, but Sunghoon is there to catch you, his protective grip reassuring, “I am not letting my best friend go home with a psychopath.”

He scoffs, facing her with a hard expression and one arm still holding onto you, “Best friend? You mean the best friend you couldn’t even be bothered to stick with because you were fucking your shrimp of a boyfriend?”

Pinching him, you shake your head, you don’t want him to start bad-mouthing your friends just because he’s angry, it’s not their fault. He whispers a ‘sorry’, his bloody hand stroking the last of your tears away before he turns back to Rina, tone firm, “I am taking her home and you are going to cover for her if her family asks where she is in the morning, got it?” Without waiting for their response, he guides you towards his car, planting another kiss on your head before opening the door for you.

As he shuts the door behind you, he glances back at the scene he left behind with a small smirk, feeling a sense of vindication from getting a few hits against one of Yeonjun's lackeys. He gets in the driver's seat, putting the heating on and starting the car.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon.” You mumble, appreciating the heat that's blowing your way as you start to get sleepy from all the adrenaline leaving you. He buckles your seatbelt for you, untwisting it for your comfort.

“Why are you apologising?” His tone is firm yet gentle, and you can sense the protectiveness in his words.

“For phoning you, for getting you into that mess, it’s my fault,” you explain, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on your shoulders.

“Don’t,” Sunghoon interrupts, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, “Don’t apologise for any of this, none of this is your fault.”

Regaining some composure, he softly puts his hand on your thigh but you jump slightly, memories from the previous guy coming to the forefront of your brain. The reaction you have only fuels Sunghoon’s anger back up but before he gets back out of the car and finishes the job, he takes his hand off you and drives back to his place. Luckily he lives only 10 minutes away and with the roads being so quiet at this time, he blazes through it in 6 minutes.

In that small amount of time, you pass out, snoring slightly, the noise making Sunghoon smile. You were so cute when you slept, so peaceful like you didn’t have one care in the world. He wanted that for you. Always.

Pulling up to the street he parks his car half on the pavement and turns the ignition off, being careful to not wake you.

The biggest challenge he’ll face is getting you up the stairs to the front door but he manages to carry you bridal style up and into the house. His two flatmates Jay and Jake are perched on the couch the way he left them earlier. The look on their faces drops when they see blood and a passed-out girl, “Is she okay?” Jake asks.

Sunghoon hushes them and keeps walking, “She’s fine, Lee Heosun isn’t though.” Leaving it at that, he walks into his room with you and lays you down on his bed. Your dress looks tight and uncomfortable so he picks around his room for some clothes to change you into but all he has is a Metallica shirt and some boxers in his drawer, everything else either needs to be washed or is his skating gear.

He lays the makeshift pyjamas on the bed before trying to take your dress off gently but you’re wriggling against him, unconsciously fighting him so you can keep sleeping, “Sweets we need to get you changed.” You grumble and shake your head, you’re incoherent but causing Sunghoon issues when you try to kick him away, seeking the deep release of sleep, “Work with me here, baby,” he exhales, finally getting the zip of your dress down.

After that, it was easy enough to strip you naked and slip you into his t-shirt. He did try to get you to put on the boxers but you had enough by then, rolling over onto his bed and getting comfy, your ass is hanging out. Normally, Sunghoon would be thinking something crude but all he is thinking about is how someone else touched you.

He promises to himself he won’t let that happen ever again.

“M’sorry, Hoonie.” you muffle into his pillow.

Tucking you into bed he kisses your forehead lightly, “Stop apologising, Sweets and go to sleep for me.”

Tapping your lips, you indicate you want a kiss, which makes Sunghoon hesitate. Eventually, he sighs, giving in to your request. “Just one, okay?” he concedes, leaning in to kiss you softly. The warmth of his lips against yours comforts you and him. He missed your lips the past week and he wouldn’t do without your kisses again.

“He told me not to see you.” You say forcing him to stay close to you, stealing smooches as you talk.

“Who did?” Sunghoon asks, brows furrowing.

“Minhee.”

Ah, it all makes so much more sense to him now. It wasn’t just your brain turning over and over in your head; Minhee had actually warned you to stay away.

Sunghoon kisses you longingly once more before pulling the covers up to your chin, sending you off to sleep.

_____

There has to be one of those cymbal clapping monkeys in your head because as you groggily sit up, all you feel is a pounding and ringing sensation. The last time you had a hangover this bad was last year at your birthday party when Rina came back to the table with 10 skittle bombs and 5 sambucas. The night was fun but the morning after was most definitely not.

It takes you some time to force your eyes open, expecting to see Rina’s room, but unless she heavily redecorated the complete opposite of her aesthetic in the past few weeks, it was safe to say you were not in Rina’s room. It’s strange because she always lets you crash at hers after a night out, it was an unspoken rule you both made so you could debrief the events of the night before and cringe every time you remembered some of the munters you kissed.

You rub your tired eyes to try and get a better scope of your surroundings but nothing about this room is familiar. Glancing around the walls you see posters of some random anime and Red Velvet, shelves filled with pictures of, and some shelves with all types of cologne and figurines displayed.

As you look down you see yourself dressed in only a t-shirt, no pants, no trousers - this cannot be good. Who did you speak with last night? If you were being honest, the whole night was a blur and the more you try to think the more your head hurt. The t-shirt smells familiar which is a good sign, as a matter of fact, the whole room smells familiar. It’s not overwhelmingly obvious but you could definitely place it.

Getting out of the comfortable bed you start to nosy around the person’s belongings like you were on an episode of Come Dine With Me, looking for any clue as to who the owner is.

The room is clean bar a few clothes and a gym bag that you have one-hundred percent seen before. Your best bet is to look at the photos splattered on the long mirror adjacent to the bed but when you look at it, the reflection of the wall behind you makes you spin around and observe.

The wall is filled with floating shelves covered in trophies and medals, an astronomical amount of awards for one person, kind of like Minhee has. The ironic thing is, you think this tiny room might hold more trophies than your brother’s double room dedicated to them.

Your steps slow as you approach a particularly large trophy, its gleaming surface catching the light. Your heart sinks as you read the nameplate, the realisation hitting you like a wave crashing against the shore.

No, no, no There is no way you are in his room..

Headache or not you need to start thinking about what ensued at that stupid party.

You got there, Rina handed you a few drinks, you took a few shots, danced with a few people, but what else? You don’t even remember seeing Sunghoon there so how the fuck are you in his bedroom and presumably in his shirt, or better yet, in only his shirt.

Cursing yourself was too polite a punishment because last night you made a promise to get over him by getting under someone and clearly that didn’t happen.

Oh no. You think to yourself as you start to wonder if he was the one you got under and you don’t even remember it. You grudge yourself because sober you wanted nothing more than to have sex with him again and now drunk you might have gotten the opportunity and forgot every single bit of it. She was not your best friend at the moment.

On the bright side, this was your chance to poke around his room and uncover any icks that could help you with your Sunghoon problem. You see a pair of boxers strewn on the floor and shove them on, trying to save yourself some dignity.

The trophies were magnificent. You knew he was the best but to see all his accomplishments displayed so blatantly like this struck you with awe. The years ranged from 2011 to now which just showcased how long he has been dedicated to the sport. You understand he’s been doing it since he was a kid, you got the privilege to watch him, but you didn’t get to see all his competitions - not the ones Minhee didn’t compete in at least.

Next to the last trophy is a picture of him, his dad, and his mum with what you assume is his first-ever award. He looked just how you remembered him, so cute and bright, the ice skating persona then was one far different than the ‘cocky’ one he has now. Back then he was branded as the nation's cutie pie and had every old woman trying to adopt him as their own, like how teenage girls adopt men in bands and claim them as their children.

You mourned the kid he used to be, only imagining his situation was the same as your brothers - grew up too fast with too much pressure.

Moving over to his desk you see his University books and a laptop with stickers he’s collected from random places. You don’t know a lot of them but see a few Sanrio stickers and smile, he is for sure Tuxedosam in human form.

There’s not a lot scandalous about the rest of the room which busted your mission. You could look through his drawers but you have to draw the line before it gets creepy.

There is, however, a bottle of water and some aspirin next to the bed which he must have left for you. Swallowing the physical pills, you now need to swallow the metaphorical ones and leave the room to face the boy you pied for a week.

A sick feeling bubbles in your tummy that could either be from the obscene amount of alcohol you drank or seeing him again. You did technically see him last night even if you don’t remember, but that makes the turning in your stomach worse because what did you do last night? Best case scenario? You didn’t embarrass yourself.

Hyping yourself up by shaking your shoulders, you open the door and head down the hall. By any miracle he won’t be there, you can put your shoes on and make a run for it. Sadly for you, when you see a broad back walking into the kitchen completely oblivious to your presence, you realise quickly you need to face this. Face Sunghoon.

“Hey,” Shooting around at the sound of your voice, Sunghoon’s eyes widen when he sees you like he wasn’t the one to carry you to bed and change you; it’s good to see you found the boxers he failed to fight on you last night.

“How are you feeling?” He doesn’t know how much you remember and he doesn’t know what to do if you don’t. How would he bring up anything that happened at the party without upsetting you all over again?

Sitting on a high stool at the island, you rest your head on one of your palms and close your eyes, “Fucking awful, my head has its own personal marching band,” you attempt to laugh at your analogy but it hurts too much, the strain on your head causes you to wince, “Did I, uh, did I call you last night?”

Shit, you don’t remember. Sunghoon physically stiffens because he doesn’t know what to say. You have every right to know what happened to you but then you might relive the memory and turn back into the girl from last night, and he never wanted you to feel like that again.

As you stare at him expectantly, he doesn’t move, the only thing stopping him from looking like a 2D manga character is his shifting eyes that are looking everywhere but at you.

The way Sunghoon is reacting is making you nervous. You must have fucked up big time if Park Sunghoon is speechless, “Sunghoon I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

His eyes widen, your choice of words ironic to your situation. If he can make you remember at your own free will then that has to be better than just springing it on you, right? “You didn’t do anything out of order, I promise. You called me to come pick you up,” he pauses looking down at the now suddenly interesting countertop, “Do you remember why you phoned me?”

You lift your head from your hand and shake your head, “No, not really. I remember drinking lots and then it kind of blacks out.” Your brain vessels are popping at the hard work you’re putting in to remember because by Sunghoon’s facial expression, you’re missing something massive, “I do remember dancing, and then sitting on the ground outside.” The memories fade in and out, only recalling locations.

He blows cold air and nods slowly, knowing he is going to have to tell you, “Y/N, do you remember a guy?” Seeing your eyes dart about like you’re trying to find the answer in the air tells Sunghoon you don’t remember, “He uh, he was dancing with you and asked you to go upstairs?” He is giving you tiny hints to help you cast your mind back which seems to be working enough.

“I went upstairs and,” all the images from last night flash quickly by, how you walked up the stairs, how he pinned you against the wall, his unappealing touches, how he-. That’s why Sunghoon looks so apprehensive to tell you flat out what happened, “Oh…yeah.”

Suddenly, you feel like you’re back in your body from last night, that guy's fingers still on you and his breath sticking to your skin. It made you feel disgusting and your body didn’t fit right over your bones anymore. Your mouth fills with saliva and you grip the countertop, this only ever happens when you are going to be sick or have a panic attack, in this case, it could be both but for now, it’s only a nauseous reaction. Tears prick your eyes as you try to stop yourself from breaking down.

Rushing over, Sunghoon twists your seat to face him so he can envelope you in his arms, “Shh, you’re safe here.” And you believe him. You are safe as long as he is with you, his soft touches are a testament to that.

Sunghoon shuts his eyes, wishing he could take away all the pain and sorrow you’re feeling but he’s a useless bystander who can only watch you go through this. He knows words and affection only go so far and it would take you a while to come to terms with the ordeal, but he’s silently vowing to himself that he will be here for you.

It’s strange how rapidly he became attached to you, like you were a bright light and he was a moth, too distracted by your beauty to think about the danger.

Once you settled down a little, he pulled away to check your face for straggled tears and wiped them away, “I will never let anyone touch you again. Not like that.”

With your memory piecing back together, you pull yourself away from him, grabbing his wrist and inspecting his hand. He had punched that guy so much that the scene before you looked like something out of a gory horror film. Sunghoon’s knuckles are cleaned but bruised and discoloured, the swollenness of his hand indicates a minor fracture.

He wanted you to forget that part but he supposed you would see it eventually. It took him a long time to get the blood stain off, red tinges still visible if you looked hard enough. He has a pictorial for a sponsor in a few days that he’s either going to need his hand airbrushed over or cancel it completely. It didn’t matter the outcome, it was worth it. There will always be more ad deals in the future.

You bring his injured hand to your lips and kiss the knuckles softly which causes Sunghoon to suck in a breath and his throat to close over. Even when you were in dismay you still found time to look after him in the simplest of ways, ways he doesn’t know he needs until you’re already tending to him.

“You need to wrap this up and put some ointment on it or it’ll scar. Where can I find some wrap and Savlon?” You stand up, not taking your eyes off his battered hand.

“I’ll get them, they’re in the toilet I think.” He strolls to the bathroom and finds some old bandages and Geromlene that should do the job just fine. When he walks back into the kitchen you have a cup of water and a piece of kitchen towel, “Here.” He hands you what you need.

Pushing him onto the stool you once occupied, you put his hand on the worktop to clean it, “You know, you shouldn’t have done that.”

He knows the implications of his actions, especially with people recording. If it got to the board he could be removed from competing at Nationals and stripped of his titles, “I guess, but it was worth it.” The boy wants to say that you’re worth it but he doesn’t, scared you’ll pull away again, ��I got some revenge from it too.”

The damage to his hand isn’t as bad as you thought but as it tremors slightly, you know some nerve damage has been done. Slathering it in Germolene stings him but he doesn’t let you know it hurts him, he just grits and bares it, letting you continue. Wrapping the bandage around the wound, you collect your thoughts, “What do you mean revenge?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day,” he shrugs but his words set a sadness in your chest because when would he get to tell you this mysterious problem he has with your aggressor? Sunghoon is saying it like he has a lifetime to tell you all these stories but you shouldn’t even be speaking to him now.

“I am truly sorry, Hoonie,” He tries to talk but you interject, “Not just about last night but for shutting you down like that.” Pursing his lips, his eyes are trained on the bandage, “I just can’t be with you.”

You finish up and kiss his hand again. It’s not difficult to fix someone's physical wounds, there are all sorts of treatments and medications for them, it’s the emotional nicks and cuts you have a hard time patching up. You didn’t really think it would affect him but that’s a lot easier to manipulate yourself into thinking when the boy isn’t in front of you with his face contorted, looking like an injured puppy.

“Minhee doesn’t own you, y’know. You can see whoever you want.” He retorts, hoping you find some reason in his words. Confused, you scrunch your eyebrows as he explains, “You said last night Minhee forbid you from seeing me.”

Ah, drunken you really stuck her foot in it, “I know he doesn’t own me, but you should have seen his face. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

“How did he find out about us?” he asks. Sunghoon says ‘us’ so casually, like you’ve been an ‘us’ forever. He finds it so natural to talk about you as part of him. When he told Jay and Jake about your impromptu date the night of the Zamboni he kept speaking for both of you, how ‘we’ had a great time and ‘we’ just got one another.

“You drove your car up to my front door. The next morning he was all like ‘If you date him Y/N, I’ll kill him’ or something like that.” Your impression of Minhee makes Sunghoon laugh because you nail it perfectly - the scowl, the hard-lined eyes, you must have seen that face so much to perfect it.

Standing up, Sunghoon takes the medical stuff back to the bathroom where he found it, giving himself time to think of ways he can change your mind, find a loophole, anything that allows him to be around you. It’s selfish to want you with him knowing what it does to your brain but if he can somehow convince you, he’ll do anything.

Walking back to you, he sees your figure perched on the stool and there’s a lightbulb moment that goes off in his head, “Did he say date?”

You spin around at his question, unsure of what he is getting at, “What? Yeah, he said ‘date and stuff’ I think.”

“Then let’s not date.”

Slouching, you agree, nodding your head and trying not to look too upset. The notion of not dating him seems to nip your feelings more than you thought.

Seeing your saddened expression, Sunghoon quickly recovers, “No, let’s-” he pauses for a moment, trying to find a nice way to say it, “Let’s keep it casual, keep it strictly hooking up.”

You bring your eyes to meet his pleading ones but you don’t understand the whole situation. When you called it off, he walked away so easily you thought he didn’t care but in front of you now, he seems the exact opposite, “You didn’t seem bothered about me stopping whatever this is between us at the rink,” as you point your finger between you both, Sunghoon can only let out a ‘huh?’ and lean on the island, “You said ‘suit yourself’, like, that would indicate you couldn’t care less.”

Honestly, Sunghoon just didn’t know how to respond at the moment. He wanted to say more but what could he have said?

That was also the reason for his dry response, he decided that it might be best to let you walk away, for your own sake, “It’s not like that, Sweets. I didn’t mean to be like that, I just…I don’t know.” He couldn’t articulate his thoughts at the moment, brain preoccupied with how to keep you here, “Look, you can say no but if you’re the same as me, you know you want this.”

“It won’t ever just be a hooking-up situation though and you know it.” You had to call it what it is. The way you both feel, even in your week apart, was enough to know this would never work. Someone’s feelings, probably you both, would grow so immense that it would never stay casual.

“We make a deal, a promise, swear it on your brother's name that we won’t get attached. You’re too loyal to betray him and I can keep myself in check.” Sunghoon is highly aware of how desperate he sounds right now but he doesn’t mind.

“But I would already be betraying him by even considering having sex with you again.” You’re crestfallen as you speak, gazing down and playing with your fingers.

Sunghoon has the opposite reaction however, his face has a slight smile while he brings his hands to your shoulders, gaining your full attention, “But he said you can’t date me, not that you can’t fuck me.”

“I think it was implied, Hoon.”

“But not explicitly stated.” If Sunghoon wasn’t in university for sports physiotherapy, he could be studying to be a lawyer, at least that’s what he thinks, “C’mon, Sweets, I might go mad if I don’t get to touch you again.”

The cogs turn in your head because he does have a point, it’s the perfect, guilt-free loophole. You wouldn’t be dating him but still get to see him, it’s a win-win on paper, “What if my brother finds out?”

His big hands tuck your hair back behind your ears and stay pressed on your cheeks, “Believe it or not, Y/N, I don’t tend to air my sex life to the town.” Sunghoon breathes out a laugh, his thumbs swiping back and forth on your face, helping your uneasiness but also removing some of the smudged makeup from yesterday, “We’ll keep it a secret, yeah?”

“You could have any girl, Hoon, one you don’t have to sneak around with,” you want to give him one last chance out of this.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “To be perfectly honest, Y/N, I don’t want just anyone else, I want you.” You need to tell your heart to calm down so you close your eyes to find some semblance of equanimity. He nudges his nose with yours and smiles, knowing the effect he has on you, “So, what do you say?”

There is a beat of a pause before you say softly, “Yes.” It was a risk. You would have to be careful but if you wanted to stop at any point you could, because it was just casual, nothing more - Minhee would never know.

The brightest smile graces Sunghoon’s face, his eyes shrinking in size and canines on full display, “Yeah?” It’s like he doesn’t believe it even though he’s heard it. For a moment he thought you were going to tell him no, that there was no ambiguity to be found in Minhee’s words, “Can I kiss you then?” he asks, his voice tinged with hopeful anticipation.

You meet his gaze, offering a nonchalant shrug that belies the flutter of excitement in your chest. "I suppose so," you reply, your tone teasing yet inviting.

He leans in slowly, testing to see if you actually meant it. Meeting him halfway, your lips meld together seamlessly, igniting a spark of longing that fuels the kiss. Sunghoon's smile against your mouth speaks volumes, conveying his joy and gratitude. Sunghoon can’t ever stop kissing you, not unless you need air.

With his hands gently gripping your waist, he feels you push yourself onto him. Sunghoon’s lips are all over yours practically eating your face off because he can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you in 8 days. He missed your taste and how easy it was to get lost in your mouth. Both of you are so desperate for one another that you don’t even come up for breath, the kiss all too consuming.

You yelp when he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot and throwing you both on the bed and as you shuffle up the bed, Sunghoon crawls with you, his mouth chasing yours eagerly.

There’s electricity in the air and it sparks pure lust into his body, his dick throbbing at the thought of being with you again. This time he’s going to do it right and take his time with you, ensuring you feel sufficiently fucked out when he’s done. When he was taking you in the front seat of his car, it was good, actually, it was beyond perfect but it was over too soon, he had so much more to show you.

His mouth moves at a new unhurried pace, his tongue running painstakingly slow over yours, so slow he could feel all your tastebuds. Sunghoon’s promise to himself was to devour you so much you are all he can taste for the next few days, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to sneak you away. This deal he has with you isn’t ideal, he wants to call you his and never let go, not just be a fuck buddy. He did call you his last night in the heat of the moment and it felt so good to say it.

Your hands slide under his white t-shirt and scrape his sides lightly, making the man shiver. It’s not only his waist you’re touching like this but you’re soon roaming all over his body. Your hands have a mind of their own as they glide every inch of his soft, warm skin, and the caresses you are receiving are equally as adoring. Not like that guy.

Why did you think about it now? Just when you had distracted yourself enough.

Noticing the change in you, Sunghoon pauses his kisses and opens his eyes, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You nod but it’s unconvincing, making him halt, “Talk to me, Sweets.”

Unfortunately, he’s seen that look on your face before and he knows what you’re thinking about.

How could he be so stupid? It didn’t even register to him you might not be ready to jump into bed considering what happened not 24 hours ago, hell, not even 12 hours ago.

“Hoonie?” Your voice is wispy as you run a hand through his dark locks, “Make me forget about it? Replace his touches with yours?” It was a simple request but it held so much weight. Sunghoon was the only one you wanted to feel on your body from now on.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to think you have to. I can wait for as long as you need.”

Sunghoon’s facial features are drawn with concern as he waits for you to truly think about this, to analyse whether you’re making this decision with a clear mind.

Shaking your head, you decline his kind act, “I want you to fuck me. Like really fuck me,” your eyes never come off of his to make certain he knows you’re serious, “I’m okay and I want this. I want you so bad.”

A smirk plasters itself onto Sunghoon’s face, “You’re going to kill me, y’know.” He presses his body on yours so you feel most of his weight on your core, his cock hardening as he softly grinds it onto your clothed heat, “As long as you’re sure?”

You nod, getting a little impatient but you’re appreciative of his concern.

He doesn’t say anything but goes back to kissing you even more intensely than before, his fingertips rubbing themself all over your body just as you requested. Sunghoon will do anything in his power to make you feel better. If this is what you wanted, this is what you’d get.

Sunghoon’s right hand trails down your stomach, shaking a little from sheer joy. He dips into the band of the boxers you’re wearing and slides his fingers perfectly between your folds, “How many times do you think I can make you cum this time, hmm?” The pad of his pointer circles your clit “Maybe once?” His husky voice flows into your ear as he speaks, “Could be twice, or three times, I know you’re more than capable.” You wriggle under him when his middle and ring fingers join the party and tap your entrance, “4 times? Could my Sweets cum 4 times for me?”

He has the audacity to be asking you these questions when all you can do is writhe in anticipation and want. If he keeps rubbing your clit and poking at your hole like this you might have the first orgasm in record time, but you don’t want to give him all the satisfaction, so you hold back.

Biting at your neck, he feels your heartbeat picking up speed to mirror with his thumb, “You could cum right now, couldn’t you? Why don’t you?” Sunghoon can feel your resistance and he knows you’re hating how much control he has over you. You’re an independent girl and he knows that means you’re not used to being in this position, with someone playing you like this. When you rode him in his car, you wanted to be in full control but he didn’t let that happen.

Moving his face to yours, he sees your eyes shut and mouth open, a clear invitation for him to stick his tongue down your throat. You moan at the sensations happening to your body all at once and the cocky boy on top of you smiles, his tongue licking over yours, “Let go, Sweets. I won’t deny you anything unless you want me to.”

If there is one thing you hate in this world it’s being edged. You’re aware that some people love it, that it heightens the climax when you finally get to cum but you can’t think of anything worse. Why withstand the inevitable when you can have multiple bouts of pleasure? So maybe you should just let him see how many times he could get you off, it would be beneficial for you, who cares if his ego inflates, you could get him back another time.

You smile at the thought of having another time with him.

Once you make the decision to loosen up and let Sunghoon do his thing, he knows he’s won the tiny battle of dominance, “Good girl.” Here comes that praise kink you’ve discovered because, with his words, you’re purring into his mouth and levitating your hips to get more connection from his fingers. You don’t have to ask him anything, he already knows what you need, he can feel the wetness on his fingers that’s leaking from your pussy.

His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing you, and it continues with the same vigour as he slips his two fingers into you, stretching you open. Assessing your face for any discomfort, he doesn’t discover any, only bliss etched on your features. If he could, he would do this for a full-time job and work overtime just to see you like this all of the time.

Sunghoon starts to thrust his fingers into you at a steady pace, one finger ridged, applying pressure, and the other loose so he can hit every spot inside you. He wasn’t an expert on fingering women but with the response of your pussy contracting, he knows he’s giving you what you need. While his fingers pleasure you, he works off the boxers you’re wearing which is easier said than done considering he’s only got one hand to pull them down with. It’s not like him to give up on anything though and before you know it, he’s whipped them off your legs, all the while never letting up on his pace.

He needs to add multitasking to his resume.

Sitting on his knees and finding a new angle, he adds a third finger, stretching you to the brink. He looks at you from where he sits and takes in the view; your legs spread, shoulders pushing themselves into his sheets while your back lifts - it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever witnessed. And here he was thinking you bouncing on his cock was top of his list.

You bite back a moan, covering your mouth with your forearm, “Nu-uh, Sweets. I wanna hear you,” he leans forward and cages beneath him as he pins your arm away from your face, “Let me hear how good you feel.”

You aren’t necessarily loud in bed, but you’ve never had the need to be moaning and groaning like a pornstar. That was until now, so with his go-ahead, you become more vocal, signalling when he was making you feel stars in your pussy. “Fuck, I-”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, give it to me,” he rubs your clit harder, coaxing out your first of many orgasms of the night.

Not wasting a single drop, he dips down so his face is at your core and laps up the juices, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You taste so perfect, the tang of your pussy is what he has been craving and he wasn’t satisfied until he had it filling his mouth.

He eats you out, his fingers that were once inside you now assisting his mouth by spreading your folds open. Your legs flail while he drinks you up, consuming your pussy like it was the last bit of water and he was a traveller in the Sahara Dessert.

You finally plant your feet on the bed, resisting the urge to close your thighs in case you suffocate him, but Sunghoon being Sunghoon, notices, “Don’t be scared to crush my head, I like it.”

He loves it actually, the feeling of being confined by fluffy thighs, the 'no way out’ feeling gives him more incentive to get his partner to cum quicker. It might be masochistic the way he loves fighting for breath but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Oh my fuck,” Your legs grant his wishes and trap him. He is way too good at this like he does it as an obsessive hobby. All caution is thrown to the wind and mewl out his name loudly, tugging his hair with your hands.

Sunghoon feels his cock throb at how you cry out his name so achingly, he needs to have you around him soon, so he focuses on your clit, nipping at it skillfully to bring you over the edge. It only takes a minute or two before your pussy is contracting as you cum over his face. Your nectar coats his mouth and he wonders how he can add your cum as part of his skincare routine because he wants to be lathered in it morning and night.

Your legs shake intensely as you feel the orgasm claim you. Your body has gone limp, legs falling open to each side. Swiftly, his hands are on your ass, pushing your vagina up to his face so he can tuck into you, taking full control. Sunghoon is holding your whole bottom half up and it’s helping him slurp you, his tongue dipping into your hole to lap any of the leftover cum he could have missed and his perfect nose rubbing against your delicate clit.

“Sunghoon, please, I can’t do another one so quickly.” Sunghoon doesn’t hear you though, too focused on his meal. He’s using his hold on you to manually grind your pussy on his face which is sending you into overdrive. He buries in your cunt as deep as humanly possible, moaning into you.

The vibrations from his moan are too much for you, “Hoonie, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.” His ego is the size of Buckingham Palace the way he made you take back your words. He knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t cum again that fast. You need to start giving yourself more credit.

For the third time today, you cum hard moaning his name, this time you're really gripping at his hair, almost thrashing around at the intensity of it. Those porn videos you see scrolling through Twitter might not be as over the top as you thought because you’ve lost your head, the only thing you know for certain is that your pussy is pulsing and soaking wet.

He kisses up your heat once more while his hands rub the outside of your legs, trying to get you to settle, “Take a minute,” Sunghoon brings you forward so you sit up, his arms keeping you steady when you climb onto him and sit on his lap, “You did so well, Sweets.” You lay your head on his shoulder and indulge in the praises he’s giving you.

Drawing back you look at him with hazy eyes, “Thank you, Hoonie.”

“I should be thanking you, you taste fucking unreal,” he pushes your sweaty hair back absentmindedly before he kisses you ever so gently, his teeth grazing your lower lip, asking you to open up for his tongue.

Slowly, you open up to grant him entry, his kitten licks subtle but deep enough that you can tangle your tongue with his. You had never been kissed like this before and it was turning you on so much; the way his hands were roaming over your back and his lips moulding into yours just right, it was like a dream. The atmosphere was getting hot again as you both deepened the kiss, your tongues swirling and flicking with one another rhythmically.

He bites your bottom lip and pulls at it roughly, making you involuntarily groan and throw your head back. Sunghoon loves how responsive you are, the way your body presses into him desperately seeking connection the same way he does. It's euphoric, and it gives him the same feeling of want that you do.

One thing that’s missing is the view of your delicious tits in his face, covered by his much-loved band t-shirt. Swiftly, he peels it off your body and his hands fly right to them, squeezing and pulling at them roughly. He contemplates removing his lips from your mouth to attach them to your perky nipple but you’re enjoying kissing him too much.

He’ll come back for them soon.

Although it seems like he has been kissing you for eternity, it has revived you and made you want more. The idea makes your clit pulsate, and you softly massage her over his clothed cock, “Hoonie,” the uttering of his nickname brings him out of his dazed state and he pulls back to look at you, “I need you.” After admiring how full his lips have become from the kisses, you find it impossible to resist the temptation to start kissing him once more, not giving him a chance to speak.

Sunghoon’s mouth should be put in a museum or win some sort of Nobel prize for how spectacular it is.

“You sure? Don’t you need more time?” To be honest, Sunghoon became so engrossed in your tongue inside his mouth that he completely lost track of time. He’s unaware that he has been kissing and holding you on his lap for more than twenty minutes which for you is more than enough recovery time.

“I’m sure,” You reassure him not just by your words but by how hard you’re starting to hump him over his boxers.

His eyelids are drooping, heavy from the lust he’s feeling, “Fuck, you turn me on so bad, Y/N.” Sunghoon can’t wait any longer so with one hand on the back of your head and one on your ass, he lifts you slightly as he shuffles forward to lay you down so you’re comfortable on the bed. Just as he promised himself, he dives his mouth onto your left tit, sucking and licking your nipple. They’re so soft and delicate that he just cannot get enough.

Although you enjoy the way he's toying with your breasts, it's not what you want right now. He has all the time in the world to fondle you, just as soon as his cock is slotted inside your pussy, “Sunghoon, please.”

“Shh, I know.” He gets it, he really does - he is just as, if not more desperate to fuck you. He just had to pay some extra loving to his favourite girls first.

“Let me grab a condom.” Sunghoon keeps them in his top drawer like most people do so they’re easy enough to retrieve and won’t keep you waiting. He stands up and flicks through the drawer to find the foils - he has ultra-thin condoms somewhere in this mess which are far superior to the ones he has in his car.

You turn to look at him as he hurriedly scours his drawer for the rubber and it dawns on you that he still has his clothes on, albeit he’s only in a loose top and stripy boxer shorts, but it’s still two layers too many. Your fingers reach over and twist his top idly, wondering what he looks like naked. It was unfair he got to see you naked twice and you haven’t even seen him with his top off yet.

Sunghoon feels the tugging of his t-shirt and looks down at you, the desired-filled gaze you have as you’re lost in thought only encourages him to find the condoms faster. He finally stumbles upon the red packet and inwardly celebrates. The ultra-thin condoms felt so good, giving him almost the same sensation as going in raw while making sure no baby Parks were running around Cheonan.

With the boy distracted as he shuts the drawer, you take the opportunity to slowly pull down his boxers. His startled expression turns to one of excitement as he processes what you’re doing, “That desperate?” Instead of answering, you lick up his shaft painfully slow, keeping eye contact with him as you do so, “Fucking hell.”

As your mouth closes around his tip and sucks firmly, the already painful hardness of his cock intensifies, leaking pre cum into your mouth already, “Sweets, as much - fuck - as much as I would love to have you suck me off, I really want to fuck you.” He whips off his t-shirt, now standing proudly naked.

Popping off him reluctantly, you agree and go back to the position he laid you in, “You always listen to me so well, Sweets,” he says while stroking his cock a few times to spread the mix of your saliva and the beads of his cum.

Opening the wrapper and rolling the condom, he sees your hungry eyes focused on him. You’re watching his every move and it’s agonising. That jealousy that seems to erupt within you when it comes to Sunghoon seems to have gotten so bad you’re now jealous of him as he touches his own cock. There’s something wrong with you but you want to be the only one touching him.

Sunghoon crawls on the bed and hovers over you, ready to give you what you want, “Can’t wait to feel you around me again. Thought I might die.”

“Sunghoon, it’s only been a week,” you laugh and curl your arms around his neck to peck his lips.

“Yeah, a week too long.” Sunghoon mirrors your laugh. He wasn’t joking though, after he fucked you, nothing else could get him off, only you could do that for him now. He was never letting you out of his grasp again, that much was obvious.

He starts by dragging his dick through your folds, stimulating your clit with the brushing of his head just to test how ready for this you are. Your nub was highly sensitive at the moment and he didn’t want to hurt you but by the soft mewls leaving your throat, he got confirmation that you were okay and pressed himself to your entrance, slowly pushing in.

Sunghoon started off slow and shallow, opening you up around him gently. What he doesn’t plan on is you moving yourself down further onto his cock, already eager for more. He didn’t know what you liked so he had to learn as he went along but he’s taking mental notes because he wants to be the one fuck you never forget about. Even in 40 years if you’re married to someone else with kids he wants you to look back on him and think about how no one has ever fucked you as good as Park Sunghoon.

He grips your hips and starts to bottom out, thrusting into you with a fast and steady pace that’s already driving you wild. The way his cock curves slightly to the left helps add a sensation you haven’t felt before with anyone else, “Oh my god, fuck,” you grasp him by his hair and plant more kisses on him. Even though they're clumsy, you absolutely have to have him all over you, whatever it takes, “Hoonie, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” The nickname slips out his lips by accident, he wasn’t sure if calling you baby was against the rules, he’d have to ask you later because he doesn’t think you’ve even registered what he just said, too lost in pleasure.

His hips snap sharply against you as he presses in deeper. The feeling of your pussy squeezing him has him close to climax but he’s holding it in, just like you did earlier. This wasn’t for any reason other than wanting this to last. Sunghoon can cum more than once usually, but with breaks, and by the look of you already so fucked out, he knows he can’t push you to go that long.

Sitting back up on his knees, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and twists you on your side, the new angle allowing his cock to hit your sweet spot over and over again. He’s pounding into you so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach, “Fuck, Hoonie, right there!” you cry out in pleasure, burying your head into the bed. He is literally fucking you sideways and you cannot get enough of it.

You want to help out but you physically can’t. Sunghoon is holding onto your leg and manhandling you in any way he pleases to make you feel good and fuck it’s working. In contrast to his forceful thrusts, he gives your calf a couple of gentle kisses, making you feel incredibly cared for, as though his sole goal is your pleasure.

And it is. That’s all he will ever think about from now on, “Y/N,” he moans your name and it’s the best song you’ve ever heard, “I’m gonna fuck you forever.”

“Please, don’t ever stop, please.” You mean every pleading cry because you’ve never felt so good in your life. The groans escaping your mouth are so loud it’s embarrassing but when you feel Sunghoon thrust his hips faster, the feeling of embarrassment dissipates because he clearly likes you being loud, probably because he’s the same. His grunts filled the room with the occasional profanities following them. You’ve never been with a man who’s vocal but you can’t ever go back to the quiet. You can’t fuck anyone other than Sunghoon.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sweets. You’re fucking sensational.” He twists you back onto your back, both of your legs now placed over his broad shoulders as he bends you in half, fucking you to finality, “You’re squeezing me so good. Do you want to cum?” His voice is breathless, close to finishing himself.

You can’t get the words out so you settle with a nod but you know he wouldn’t accept that as an answer. Looking up at him you manage to build your voice, “Yes, Hoonie. I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum.”

“You never have to ask, Sweets, just let go.”

Being the people pleaser you are, it’s only natural for you to ask if you can cum. If you cum too soon he might not like that and you can’t imagine disappointing him. What you don’t know is that you could never disappoint Sunghoon, he doesn’t care if you cum in 5 seconds or 5 hours, he just wants you to feel good.

He sees you thinking about it even though you’re desperate to climax. It’s time for him to bring out the big guns. Sliding his hand down between you, he rubs your clit back and forth, “Be a good girl for me.” He caught onto your need for appraisal right away and he knows it’ll drive you crazy. And he’s right because the praise mixed in with his harsh thrusts and fingers stroking your clit, your body starts to shake and contort as you cum.

Even though your eyes are clenched tight, you could cry from how much the orgasm is coursing through you., “That’s it, doing so well for me,” Sunghoon whispers in your ear, losing his sharp rhythm, “Fuck, Y/N, you’re the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“It’s only for you.” You whimper, still fucked out of reality, “Only yours.”

“Yeah? Your pussy is all mine?”

“All yours, Hoonie.”

With your words, he stills his cock inside of you and lets his climax take control as he spills into the condom, filling it up before falling on top of you. It doesn't take the exhausted man long to realise that his head is perfectly positioned between your tits, a sly smile teasing his face.

This is everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Your shared breathless pants bounce around the room, evidencing the exertion of your sex session. Can you imagine if you had said no to being casual with him? You wouldn’t have gotten to experience the best sex of your life.

He lifts his head to look at you, swallowing hard, trying to get some moistness back into his mouth, “You are unreal, do you know that?” All you can do is laugh at him and shake your head, “I’m serious, Y/N, you’re fucking amazing.” He places a gentle kiss between your breasts as if to seal his compliment into your heart.

You thread your fingers through his hair and it falls perfectly back into place. You are so content right now with Sunghoon’s cock nestled inside you, his hands tucked under your back as he absentmindedly massages you, and his lips now trailing kisses up your collarbone and neck, “Thank you, Hoonie.”

“You don’t have to thank me for telling you the truth,” His lips finally meet yours again as he smooches you a couple of times.

“Not that,” you pause to collate your words, “Thank you for helping me yesterday, like truly I wouldn’t have been surprised if you ignored my call.” After you left him high and dry you didn’t understand why he came to your rescue at the party but you could not thank him enough.

“I’ll always answer when you call,” he states casually, hiding how his words have a deeper meaning.

His eyes sparkle and stare into yours. He wants to say more but he has to leave it there. What he wants to tell you is that you can rely on him night and day and that he wants to protect you for the rest of his life. There’s something about you that is dragging him into a pot of feelings he hasn’t experienced before.

It’s crazy how fast all of this has happened for you both, and if he ever vocalised how he felt people would probably tell him it was crazy. Yet, for Sunghoon, it wasn’t crazy at all. He felt so many things for you, he just doesn’t know what they all are or why they’re happening so quickly.

But he told you he would keep his feelings in order, hold them back to make this deal work. It’s going to be difficult because he wants to scream at how much he likes you, how comforting it is when you’re with him. Even when you studied at the rink while he skates, no one uttering a word or sparing a glance, he just felt happier with your presence. That’s probably why he came up and spoke to you that night he accused you of being a spy for your brother.

Yes, there was a little part of him that believed you were there to give Minhee a heads up given how close you both are, but he just needed one excuse to talk to you. If he made the first move then he could keep talking to you, just like he’s always wanted to.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper.

“Like what?” His eyes don’t stop speaking silent words and it makes your tummy flutter.

“Like you’re breaking the rules already.”

You sit up on your elbows, breaking the connection. Not that you wanted to but if you both can’t even keep the deal intact for a couple of hours, there was no hope for you. Sunghoon listens to your body language and gets off of you completely, slipping his cock out in the process.

He disregards the condom in his bin and puts his boxers back on, “I guess we need to set the rules before I can break them.” Suddenly he goes out of the room for a minute, only to come back with a cloth and some blue Powerade, “Like, can I clean you up, or is that a no?”

The boundaries between what is and is not too intimate are hazy, but he is physically unable to resist taking care of you after sex. He would rather die than watch you clean yourself because as far as Sunghoon was concerned if he made the mess, he should clean it. Plus, it’s the right thing to do after he just fucked your brains out.

“I-” You ponder for a moment, unsure of the protocol between fuck buddies, but as you think it over, Sunghoon is already wiping you down, cleaning your juices from your folds and thighs. You could do it yourself, you supposed, but you can’t lie, being taken care of like this even in the most simplest of ways made you feel warm inside. Are these the feelings you’re both trying to avoid? This is too complicated.

“I guess we can work out the rules as we go. But I am giving you aftercare, I don’t care what you say.” He hands you the Powerade once he’s finished cleaning you off, “And you can’t run off right away.”

“But I can’t spend the night,” you argue.

“You don’t have to, but I’m not going to kick you out. If you’re tired, you stay here. End of story.” Clearly, Sunghoon hasn’t grasped the idea of friends with benefits but you’ll let it go for now.

You take a sip of your drink, your gaze lingering on Sunghoon as he rummages through his closet, searching for something for you to wear. You take the time to admire his back, the natural muscles built from his workout regime pop as he flicks through the hoodies hanging up. It’s making you wet again, you can’t lie.

He removes one from its hanger and gives it to you, along with some gym shorts. Although they probably look great on him, you can’t help but think how much you might end up looking like Adam Sandler if you put them on, but then again, you don’t have a choice.

“Here, put these on.” He hands you the clothes, kissing your head before petting it softly, the act of affection making you giddy.

“I can’t wear your hoodie, that’s too girlfriend-ish,” you look up at him and his hand stops at the back of your head, scratching it adoringly.

Sunghoon sighs with a smile, “You don’t really have a choice here, Sweets. Unless you want to put that dress back on,” The idea of physically stuffing yourself into that piece of clothing again makes you shudder, “That’s what I thought. It’s just an old hoodie anyway, I don’t even wear it anymore.”

False. He won't admit it to you, but he always wears it and carries it with him everywhere. It's his comfort sweatshirt. To see you in his favourite hoodie and to smell like him - that's why Sunghoon chose it especially.

As you slip into the hoodie, unaware of its significance to him, you unknowingly envelop yourself in a piece of his world. The familiar scent of him lingers in the fabric, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Quickly, you put on the remaining clothes and search for your stuff, “I need to go to Rinas, she’s probably wondering where I am.” In your leather jacket, you feel around for your phone, anticipating missed calls from your best friend.

“She knows you’re here,” He picks up your phone from the floor and passes it to you, it must have fallen out when he carried you in here last night.

You look at him puzzled but still remember to thank him, “What do you mean? Rina would never have let you take me home,” you state. Rina saw the mess you were in because of him, and with him leathering into that guy, she would have dragged you away from him herself.

Sunghoon smiles triumphantly, “She didn’t have a choice. I told her you were going to mine and that she had to cover for you.”

“You told THE Yu Jimin what to do?” You were gagged at the thought, truly, your flabber had been gasted because no one tells Rina what to do, like ever, and if they did she would make sure they were never happy again.

He simply shrugs and steals a kiss, and then another before his lips linger for a little longer, enticing you to kiss him back. Once he feels your lips moving with his, he smirks, bringing his hand to cradle your jaw, his fingers in your hair. You probably shouldn’t be kissing like this either but you don’t care right now, not with how his lips taste against yours..

Sunghoon steps back after a few blissful minutes and asks, "Was that the right choice, or what?" When he walks away to change, the smile becomes a smirk as he thinks about the sex you’ve just had.

You check your phone for messages and there are a lot. One from Minhee, saying he had a great time and he was staying at Jungmo’s place. It was perfect because now you could sneak into the house without anyone knowing you were gone for the night. There are a few texts from your mum saying she’s going to the store and not to sleep all day. And then there was Rina.

Rina💗

4:12am: Y/N, text me when you get there.

4:33am: If he touches you I swear to fuck I will kill him.

5:02am: Please let me know if you got to his ok?

8:54am: GIRL WAKE UP.

9:01am: You never sleep in after drinking.

9:01am: ARE YOU FUCKING HIM RIGHT NOW?

9:02am: IF YOU FUCK HIM I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN

10:23am: I cannot believe you are fucking him! Get over here right now.

You don’t know how she knew you were fucking him at that time but you are never going to hear the end of it.

“What is she saying?” He asks, tying the string of his joggers.

“That if you touch me she’s going to kill you, and I’m basically in the bad books for fucking you.” He turns the phone to see the messages and laughs.

Sunghoon hadn’t encountered Rina until last night but he heard the rumours about her and her temper. He didn’t know it was that girl who was your best friend, he thought you might have run with a different crowd, a quieter one with less drama. Rina was the opposite of you, she’s loud and obnoxious, and that’s just from what he saw last night, but at least she looks after you. He knew it was out of order to bad mouth her and her boyfriend but he’s not sorry for it.

“Well then,” He circles his arms around you, “If I’m going to die at the hands of your best friend, I think I should get to fuck you one more time.” He leans down to kiss you but all you can do is laugh. He was just a man at the end of the day, a horny, needy man.

“I need to get to Rina’s.” You say between kisses but that’s not what he wants to hear, so he grumbles slightly, the pout of his lips only adding to the kiss. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know he’s upset that you won’t stay a little longer, “I know, Hoonie. But I’ll see you at the rink, yeah?”

“Want another Zamboni lesson? I can really show you how to pump the lever.” Playfully, you slap his chest and push him away. The look on his face is one of arrogance and it’s so sexy but you can’t let him know, it’ll only inflate his head more.

You grab your belongings while Sunghoon follows you around like a puppy, placing his hand on your ass as you bend down to put on your shoes. The clothes you are wearing are ludicrous, nonetheless, you can't go to Rina's place barefoot. Sunghoon's hand slides beneath your hoodie and gently rubs your back, but when you straighten up, both of his hands are suddenly on your skin, easing their way to your boobs.

He pinches both of your nipples, eliciting a moan. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you let him fondle you, “Sunghoon, I honestly have to go.”

“I know, just give me a minute.” His fascination with your boobs is unhealthy but he just can’t get enough. If your pussy wasn’t so delicious they might take the number one spot for his favourite things on your body. True to his word, after a couple of minutes he lets you go, his hands now hanging sadly by his side, “C’mon I’ll drive you.”

“I can walk it’s fine.” It was a long walk but you could use the air, still hot from the hangover and taking Sunghoon’s cock.

His eyebrows raise and he crosses his arms, “In those heels, yeah?” His eyes point to your 6 inch shoes in bewilderment. People look great in heels but he will never understand how anyone walks more than 5 minutes in them.

You look down at your shoes with him and nod, “Yeah, it’s only like an hour or two walk or something, I’ll blast through it.”

“Not a chance. I’m driving you.” As you begin to protest he points to you, “Eh, no arguing about this, Sweets, I’m taking you to Karina’s.” Sunghoon always had a way of getting what he wanted, either from his charm or his stubbornness. You have no choice now but to agree, so you pick your stuff back up and follow him out of his room.

Just as you both exit, Jake stands with a towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets falling down his abs. Sunghoon tuts in disgust, “Dude, there’s a girl here.”

“Yeah, I think the whole block knows that.” Sunghoon warns Jake with his eyes to shut up, “I’m Jake, by the way, Sunghoon’s favourite roommate.” Jake sticks his arm out to give you a handshake which you gingerly accept.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, knew that too. He’s just as loud.” Jake laughs and walks away, leaving you both filled with embarrassment.

You punch the boy beside you in the arm once Jake is out of sight, causing Sunghoon to yelp and rub his arm, “How could you not tell me you had roommates!” you whisper-shout up at him.

If you had known he lived with others, there's no way you would have been as loud as you were. Everyone has sex, so it's not a huge thing. However, you're not thrilled that Sunghoon neglected to mention his roommates, especially since you haven't even seen them before and their first impression of you is you moaning like you’re in the adult entertainment industry.

“I guess I was too busy fucking you senseless to think about them.” He earns another punch for that one, but he takes it in his stride, wrapping his arm around you, “C’mon, Sweets, if anything, you’ve started a competition on who can get their girl to scream loudest.”

With that, he kisses the crown of your head as he guides you out of the house and to his car.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexuals @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #melting point #aj writes #enhypen angst

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urfavstargirl · 10 months

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inner man challenge! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

hey babes!! okay, i know i said i was going on break but i got this sudden inspiration and yk i had to make a post!! so this challenge is called the inner man challenge, because it's all about fulfilling your inner man and staying in the wish fulfilled!!

WHAT IS THE GOAL FOR THIS CHALLENGE? ★

making the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state

fulfilling your inner man

falling in love with imagination

not caring about the 3d

FIRST STEP! ★

this is crucial! remove the intention of manifesting to be for getting in the 3d!!! "but girl.. the whole point of manifesting is to get it in the 3d" okay yes, if u want to believe that i can't change your mind. but to get it in the 3d we need to be fulfilled, and you can't be in the SOWF if you are still trying to get it! read this if ur still confused <3

me personally i feel like the reason why some people don't get results from methods, challenges etc is because they are doing the method to get it in the 3d, not to feel fulfilled. but thats just me 🤷🏾‍♀️

SECOND STEP! ★

now for the fun part, decide what you want!! df, db, sp, a billion bucks in ur account, being the smartest of ur class, moving out of your paren'ts home, getting into your dream college, literally go wild!!

THIRD STEP! ★

fulfill your inner man when your inner man needs fulfilling! if something bad arises in the 3d that shakes ur confidence, fulfill!

having the urge to look in ur bank account to see if you have a billion bucks? close your eyes, imagine your inner man looking at her bank account and seeing the numbers go up by the second!

one of your family members makes a comment about how ugly you are?? would your inner man care?? NO! bc she's fine asf!

if anything 'bad' happens in the 3d, imagine your inner man saying "uh.. thats cute but i'm living my dream life rn sooo.."

WAIT, IS THERE A SCHEDULE? ★

there's no schedule to this challenge!! no "in the morning say 1409834 affirmations, in the afternoon vaunt for 3 hours, in the night do starfish position and affirm for the void" NO!! literally just fulfill your inner man when ur inner man needs fulfilling!!

"don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d." - @remcycl333

HOW DO I STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED THE ENTIRE DAY? ★

no need to stay in the SOWF the entire day, we are always changing states! for example, right now you're in the state of reading this post, and i am in the state of writing this post. it's all about making the SOWF your dwelling state! so if you accidentally stay in the state of lack 7 times but you are in the SOWF 8 times, then the SOWF is your dwelling state! (btw don't count the times you enter a state lmao)

ANYTHING ELSE? ★

get off tumblr, just delete the app.. like this place is literally just making you overconsume. you have better things to do!

if you have a negative thought don't spiral and think all your progress has gone to waste. breathe in and out, your inner man has it and that's all that matters.

have fun!! this challenge isn't like other challenges (soo quirky i know 😜), it's meant to fulfill you instead of making you stress about the 3d. make fun scenarios in your head, vaunt, just have a good time!!

WHEN you get successes (whatever you consider to be a success: feeling that your inner man is fulfilled, or getting it in the 3d) send it to me or make a post about it using #star's-inner-man-challenge!

if you have any questions let me know in my inbox, bye yall!! 💞

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chvoswxtch · 3 months

Text

an adjustment

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: adjusting to a new normal with frank presents a few challenges, including one you thought you had put to rest.

warnings: swearing, lil angst, frank's voice (yes that needs a warning)

word count: 2.6k

a/n: a certain someone is making a cameo that will have a bigger role in the next chapter, but y'all know I love to tease. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

As much as the two of you wanted to stay in the cozy little bubble that existed in his cabin, reality had come knocking. Madani informed you that your place was no longer an active crime scene decorated in bodies, bullets, and blood, and Billy needed Frank for a new assignment. Some guy running for Senator had a lot of controversial opinions that pissed a bunch of people off and apparently warranted 24/7 security, and Anvil was at the top of his list for protection. Since Frank was the best at what he did, unfortunately he was at the top of that list too. Adjusting to a new normal had been…well…just that; an adjustment.

A difficult, confusing, thought consuming adjustment.

For over half of the past year, Frank had been by your side. You started and ended every single day with him. The sudden absence of his presence was jarring, and you still found yourself immediately confused when you glanced up from your computer screen to tell him something only to realize he wasn’t there. Frank didn’t always talk a whole lot, but your office suddenly felt so much more quiet and empty without him. And despite a full blown security system installed by him on your behalf, it was hard for you to feel safe in your own home with the lingering scars of what had happened etched into the walls beneath a layer of new paint.

Frank called you at least once every day, just to hear your voice, but between both of your complicated schedules, time was not in your favor. You had spent the past three weeks adapting to Frank’s vacancy, but found yourself spiraling anytime you were left alone with your own thoughts. What if this was over before it had even really started? What if it wasn't anything anyway? There hadn’t been a moment for you and Frank to sit down and actually talk about what your relationship was since the cabin. You know what it meant to you, and you knew what you wanted it to mean to him, but you wanted to hear what it meant to him from his own mouth.

A part of you felt childish for wanting to bring it up. What were you supposed to do? Send him a text saying “are you my boyfriend, check yes or no”? Another part of you felt valid in needing reassurance. It was reasonable to want to establish a relationship with someone you were dating. But were you and Frank dating? He hadn’t technically asked you out on an actual date, but he had risked his life to save yours on several occasions. That had to count for something. You hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Steven, and Frank was not only a widower, but also your former bodyguard, so the normal rules of dating felt like they had been completely thrown out the window.

A knock at the door abruptly pulled you out of your chaotically indecisive inner monologue, and you saw a guy that appeared to be fresh out of high school standing in the doorway of your office.

“You Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Uh yeah, that’s me. How can I help you?”

The kid took a few steps forward into your office and practically shoved a sealed brown envelope in your face. He looked bored and annoyed, as if you were somehow inconveniencing him because he had to deliver something to you. It made you want to make a snide comment about how your name was clearly listed outside your office door and ask how the hell he managed to graduate without the ability to read.

“This is for you.”

Reaching for the envelope, your brows pinched together as you turned it over. There was nothing written on the front of it, no address, no name, not even a stamp.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, lady. I’m just the messenger. Open it and find out.”

Before you could reply with a smartass comment, the kid had already walked out of your office, leaving you alone with the mysterious brown envelope. Clenching your jaw, you refrained from chasing him down the hall and asking who the hell raised him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you had to remind yourself that you were a grown woman that would face charges for decking a teenager, even if he was legal and a complete dick.

“Asshole.”

Muttering under your breath, you pinched the aluminum prongs together on the seal, flipping the top of the envelope open to reach inside and pull out a stack of documents. When you turned them over, five big bold letters instantly caught your attention.

LETTER OF INTENT TO SUE.

During your time as a journalist, people had threatened to sue you over stories several times. It came with the territory. The first time you had gotten a letter like this, you nearly had a complete meltdown. Ben had found it far more amusing than you did, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin on his face while sipping at his coffee and chuckling.

“Ah, I remember my first lawsuit letter. You get used to ‘em. You can either frame that one or forward that to the uh legal department. It’s in the blue recycling bin outside.”

And he had been right. People had tried to sue the paper, and you specifically, several times over the course of your career, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. You normally wouldn’t have thought twice about it, and you were about to toss it into the trash bin on the floor next to your desk when your eyes skimmed over who sent the letter, and your blood instantly began to sizzle.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Steven fucking Price.

Gritting your teeth harshly, you narrowed your eyes as you read over the first paragraph on the page.

This letter of intent to sue shall hereby be considered formal notice that STEVEN PRICE intends to file a lawsuit against you if you do not comply with the settlement demands set out in this letter.

The storm of anger brewing inside you had your hands shaking violently, and you were clutching onto the paper in your hands so tightly that your fingernails had left indents in the crinkled sides that were held captive in your vice grip. When Homeland took him away in custody, you thought that was the last you would ever have to deal with him or see him until the trial. But here he was, still making demands of you, from federal prison.

Frank’s gruff voice sounded on the other end of the line after one ring before you even realized you had called him.

“He’s fucking suing me.”

“What? Who?”

“Steven.”

There was a brief shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and you faintly heard Frank mutter an “excuse me” before his deep baritone sounded once again in your ear.

“The hell you mean he’s suin’ you?”

“Some kid came and dropped off an envelope, who was a real dick by the way, and then I opened it and saw it’s a letter of intent to sue. I didn’t think anything of it at first because I get these all the time, but then I saw his fucking name.”

“Suin’ you for what though?”

Tossing the documents onto your desk, you began to pace back and forth in your office as you ran your hand through the roots of your hair in pure frustration.

“I don’t fucking know, a load of bullshit? I didn’t even read what his ‘demands’ were. He can’t…he can’t do that, right? I didn’t do anything.”

Pausing for a second, your hysterical rant subsided momentarily as one possible reason for a lawsuit popped into your head.

“I mean…I did punch him in the face. But he’s going to sue me for that? There’s no fucking way. Putting it on public record that a girl half his size punched him? His ego couldn’t handle it.”

“You did break his nose.”

“He fucking deserved it, I should’ve broken more.”

Frank’s deep chuckle of amusement sounded from the other end of the line, and it instantly made you forget what you were so pissed about for a brief moment.

“I ain’t disagreein’ with you there. Look, take a deep breath, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you closed your eyes for a moment and enjoyed the soft tone of Frank’s rough voice as you followed his gentle instruction. With your eyes closed, it was almost like he was there with you. Once Frank could hear your breathing even out a bit on the other end of the line, he spoke in a delicately low tone that had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Attagirl. Send me the letter and I’ll talk to Madani ‘bout it, yeah?”

“I don’t even have a lawyer-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that right now, alright? Just take another deep breath, relax, and let me handle it.”

“You’re always handling things.”

“That’s kinda my job, baby.”

One little pet name and you were blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Thankfully Frank wasn’t in your office at that moment to see the intense heat in your cheeks and the goofy smile splitting your lips. He would’ve definitely had a field day teasing you about it.

“You’re pretty good at your job. Maybe a little too good. If you were kinda sucky at it, everyone wouldn’t want you so bad.”

“The only one I want bad is you.”

A fluttering feeling erupted in your lower belly at those words, coupled with the way his voice had dropped an impossible octave lower, and you found yourself clutching at the edge of your desk to keep your knees from giving out right from under you. If Frank was here, you would’ve gladly let him bend you over it.

Clearing your throat, you attempted to change the subject before you got too worked up.

“How’s the new guy?”

Grabbing the iced coffee sitting on your desk, you held it against the heated skin of your neck. Droplets of the cool condensation slowly cascaded down your flesh, causing you to shiver while trying to balance your internal temperature.

“Not as pretty as you.”

Letting out a soft snort, you rolled your eyes and leaned back against the edge of your desk.

“Well I would hope not.”

Frank chuckled deeply again, and you could clearly picture the look on his face in your mind; an expression of playful exasperation with a faint smirk on the edge of his soft lips.

“He’s more of a pain in the ass than you. Didn’t think that was possible.”

“You’re really great at this whole flirting thing, you know that?”

The dry sarcasm in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Frank, and it tore a deeper laugh from low within his chest that made you grin.

“Hey, I been outta practice for a while. Gimme a break.”

“Speaking of flirting, how’s Billy?”

“He’s uh…he’s good.”

Something about Frank’s tone suddenly seemed off, and you wanted to ask him about it, but there was a faint rustling on the other end of the line, like Frank was pressing the speaker against his chest, and you could barely make out his muffled voice speaking to someone. When he lifted his phone back to his ear, you caught the end of a deep sigh.

“Listen I uh…I gotta go, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, me too.”

That was a lie. You didn’t have anything pressing deadlines at the moment. You would’ve stayed on the phone for the rest of the day with Frank if you could’ve, maybe convinced him to sneak away and come see you. He was still in New York, luckily, but anywhere that wasn’t right next to you was still too far.

“Send me the letter. I’ll talk to Madani and take care of it, alright?”

“Okay. I…thank you.”

“You ain’t gotta thank me.”

“You keep saying that, but then you keep giving me reasons to. So, we can have this argument until eventually you give up I guess.”

Frank chuckled deeply once more, and you could picture him in your mind shaking his head with a light grin. He sounded normal again, but you made a mental note to ask him about what was really going on when you spoke to him next.

“Same time tomorrow then, yeah?”

»»———　　———««

According to Madani, Steven didn’t have a case, and you technically had nothing to worry about. However, you were admittedly curious about what the hell he wanted, and Frank had said that if you did want to go talk to Steven, he would go with you. Actually, he respectfully insisted that you not see Steven without him present, and while you didn’t want to see Steven at all, you did want to see Frank.

You suffered through almost three years with Steven. You could suffer another five minutes if it meant you got to spend time with Frank.

It wasn’t your first time visiting a prison. A few years ago when you were still working with Ben, he had been interviewing a death row inmate that had been declaring innocence for fifteen years, and Ben had managed to prove that the evidence for his case had been tampered with and that the man had been telling the truth the entire time. Despite how daunting it felt to be in a place that kept violent people caged like animals, you felt safe with Ben then, much like you did with Frank now.

Currently, you were pacing back and forth down the hallway in pure irritation.

“What is taking so long?”

Frank had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall outside of the meeting room that was typically reserved for inmates and their lawyers. The guard had said he would bring Steven in shortly, but that was twenty minutes ago. Since Frank had met you at the prison, and due to all the prying eyes, you hadn’t had a private moment to do more than smile at him when he arrived. It was the first time you were able to see him in person in three and a half weeks, and he somehow looked even more attractive than he ever had, and you were being forced to endure an interaction with your ex, who tried to have you killed, just to get Frank alone.

It was torture.

“Told ‘em we’re waitin’ on your lawyer.”

Pausing mid-step, you glanced over at Frank with a look of complete puzzlement.

“I don’t have a lawyer, I told you that.”

As Frank turned his head to look at you, he suddenly lifted his gaze to stare directly above your head as someone behind you caught his eye. He stood up straight and uncrossed his arms as he gestured with his chin in the direction behind you.

“You do now.”

With your brows knit in threads of confusion towards the center of your forehead, a light tapping sound behind you caused your ears to perk up, and you turned your head to find the source of the noise and Frank’s attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Matthew Murdock. I’m your attorney.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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thirdsaltyhunter · 6 months

Text

Fight for Love

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing

Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)

A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.

You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library, to let you fight it out in the map room.

This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.

You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.

"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you.", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table.

"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"

"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp."

"Well it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.

"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.

"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.

At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.

"Because I love you!", you responded, voice louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure dread and regret.

You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.

You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker and you losing your closest friends.

You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.

"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.

After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.

_____

Dean's POV

Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.

"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?"

"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.

"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."

"How?"

The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."

_____

Your POV

You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.

Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.

"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.

"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him.

"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.

"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.

"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.

"Please don't kick me out." His heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.

"Hey, no one's kicking you out". He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me"

His voice sounded so gentle but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.

"I love you too". Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

"You love me?", you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.

"Have for a long time, Sweetheart." He leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you.

Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to.", he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.

"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer.

A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car", he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.

You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.

_____

Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?", you asked.

"Not really. It did at first.", he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry, I know it was a stupid move."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."

Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.

He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."

"Fine", you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy", you greeted.

"Oh hey", he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."

"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."

"Ok good", he said with a hint of relief.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket. "I guess we should head back."

He nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.

Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.

"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight.", he pleaded.

"Absolutely."

You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?", he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.

Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"

You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x gn!reader

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atlabeth · 11 months

Text

leave the door open - anthony lockwood

summary: no matter what happens, there's always the light underneath the door. the sign that, when you're ready, he'll let you back in with open arms.

a/n: obviously inspired by leave the door open by silk sonic because i could (and have) listen to it on repeat for hours. this spiraled way out of control but im honestly really happy with it and i hope you all are too!

wc: 8.2k

warning(s): mild angst, arguing, hurt/comfort, mildly serious injury, short scene with a gun/gunshot wound, but the whole first half of the fic is fluff and it is all wrapped up w a fluffy ending

127.

128.

129.

13–

Your focus was broken as police sirens blared past your window, and you let out a long-lasting sigh. This was the fifth time your count had been interrupted, and you weren’t starting over again.

Trying to sleep was a fruitless endeavor at this point, and that wasn’t going to change no matter how many notches in the wall you counted—you might as well accept it.

You’d never been much for sleeping through the night, but your new home boded worse for it all. A new room, a new house, a new city, a new agency. Being in the thick of it all after what felt like so long on your own was overwhelming, and it still felt like it could all fall apart. Being given the job all because you passed a few tests in the living room didn’t exactly feel like security.

You sighed as you slipped on a sweatshirt and walked out of the attic— your room, at least for now— carefully moving down the steps in an effort to not make much noise.

35 Portland Row was filled with warmth, that much was obvious from your short time here, but that warmth had not yet penetrated your skin. It was all too foreign.

You meant to go to the kitchen and make a midnight cup of tea, but your eyes were drawn to a slightly open door, light spilling out in the cracks. The library, if you remembered correctly from Lockwood’s tour.

It must have been George. You didn’t know much about him, but the way Lockwood described him certainly made him seem like the type to be up pouring over books until the early hours of the morning.

It wouldn’t hurt to say hi. Let him know that they’d added another restless soul into their agency.

You pushed the door open a bit more, knocking on the wall as you leaned against the door frame, and your eyebrows rose slightly when the boy looked up.

“Lockwood,” you said, tamping down on your surprise.

He said your name with a slight smile and a bow of his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You nodded. “Have you got room for one more?”

“Always,” he said with a gesture at the seat across from him.

You closed the door behind you and took the offered chair, glancing down at the papers in front of him. “What’s got you up?”

“Bills,” he said dryly. “The mortgage, the utilities, our certification, and now—” he looked at you— “another agent on the payroll.”

“I’ll be sure to try and bring in more than you spend on me,” you said, and he smiled as he set his pen down.

“How thoughtful.” Lockwood laced his fingers together before he leveled his gaze fully at you. “And what’s got you up?”

“Just what I said,” you answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t gotten used to this place yet.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t take too long, because you’re going to hit the ground running,” Lockwood said. “We’ve got a meeting tomorrow with a client, and if all goes well we’ll be having tea with a Visitor by noon.”

“Honestly, that would make me feel like I fit in more,” you said. “I’m much better with the ‘nearly dying’ part of this job than the settling in part.”

He cracked a small smile. “I’m hoping we’ll avoid that part, especially with your help.”

Your eyebrows rose. “You’ve got that much faith in me?”

“I assumed you knew the amount of faith I have in you when I hired you,” Lockwood joked. “Your Touch is just what we’ve been missing.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me,” you said. “There’s always uncertainty about freelance agents because we work on our own, but I promise I’ll try my best to merge back into a group.”

“Like I said,” Lockwood’s eyes twinkled, “I’ve got full faith in you.”

You chuckled and nodded, and you tapped the desk before you stood up. “I’ll leave you to your devices. Thank you for the talk, Lockwood.”

“Try and get some sleep,” Lockwood said. “After all, tomorrow is when you prove yourself.”

“Ah,” you said sagely. “Tomorrow will determine whether I have a job or I’m back on the streets.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he said, and he looked wholly genuine. “You’re part of Lockwood & Co now, and we take care of our own.”

You nodded, your lips quirking into a small smile. It had been a long time since someone had so clearly said to you that they would watch out for you— that they saw you as more than just your Touch.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

Lockwood nodded, his expression turning slightly wry. “Besides, the only real reason I think I’d fire you is if you got us all killed.”

“You can’t fire me if we’re all dead.”

“I suppose that means you’re thoroughly employed,” Lockwood said with a smile.

You chuckled. “Good to know.”

“Truly, though, try and get some sleep.” He picked up his pen again, clicking it a few times. “We might be London’s smallest agency, but we take cases the likes of Fittes would handle.”

“As long as you try and get some too,” you said.

Lockwood smiled, but there was a notable absence of a promise. “Goodnight.”

“Are you always in the library?” you asked suddenly. “Because I— I find myself awake a lot at night. It would be nice to know when you’re open to chat and when you just want to be alone.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave the door open for you. Just like tonight.”

You stared at him for a moment more, taking in his slightly ruffled hair, his undone tie and rolled up sleeves. The dark circles under his eyes.

“Perfect,” you responded softly. “Goodnight, Lockwood.”

"Goodnight," he repeated, that same small smile on his lips.

You closed the door behind you.

You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It was another two weeks until your next sleepless night.

Kept busy with countless cases, you were exhausted near every time you stumbled back through the doors of Portland Row. Part of it was from adjusting back into an agency after being on your own for so long, the other part was the seriously intense jobs that Lockwood kept taking.

And you did adjust, that was true.

You didn’t know if you and George were exactly friends, but he allowed you to help when he cleaned up in the kitchen, and you’d already spent a few afternoons in the archives together—today had been the best, him sharing all the material he found with you and willing to listen to your theories and look at your notes. He was warming up to you, at least.

Lockwood was completely different. He exuded charm, all easy smiles and plying words meant to get someone’s guard down. It was how he operated, how he had to live—everyone underestimated him so he took it upon himself to prove everyone wrong. His name was on the door, after all, as he liked to remind you all.

Maybe that was why he was always up, you thought, because as you slowly moved down the stairs, rubbing grogginess out of your eyes, you noticed that the light was on in the library again. Door slightly cracked open.

You huffed a laugh before you knocked on the frame again, pushing it open to see Lockwood in almost the exact same position as last time. Instead of a variety of papers, though, he was hunched over a map.

He said your name, a small smile already pulling at his lips. “So we meet again.”

“We live in the same house,” you said wryly, “and we work together.”

“All the more reason to be thankful that you put up with me past billing hours,” Lockwood said. You chuckled, and he gestured at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.”

You did, and you tapped your fingers on the table before you took a look at the map. “What’s got you up so late?”

“I’m scouting out a potential job,” he said. “A very old, very haunted mansion owned by a very rich family.”

“I like the sound of that,” you mused.

“So do I.” That spark was in his eye again, and you found yourself watching him as he talked. “The patriarch called me last night, and I met with him and his wife while you and George were at the archives today. He offered the job of clearing his ancestral home, and I told him I would get back to him after I consulted my colleagues.”

“Colleagues,” you hummed. “I like the sound of that too.”

Lockwood chuckled. “I thought after freelancing for so long you would be against working so closely with a team.”

You shrugged. “I needed a change. You lot have been a pretty good one.”

“It’s certainly an honor,” Lockwood said with mock austerity, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Just get on with it, Lockwood.”

He nodded, and he pushed the map over to you. “I was going to lay it all out for you two tomorrow morning, but since you’re here, I might as well get your opinion on it.”

You took a moment to fully examine it. “Well, it’s certainly very big.” You glanced back up at Lockwood. “How much are they willing to pay?”

He smiled. “Fifty thousand pounds.”

Your eyes about burst out of your head, and you slid the map back over to him. “That’s all I need to hear. I’m in.”

Lockwood laughed and he took it back from you. “You don’t even know anything else about it. You could be walking into a death trap.”

“Every job I did on my own was a possible death trap, and none of them were for fifty thousand pounds,” you said. “I’m in—I don’t care if half of England is haunting that house.”

His smile faded a bit, and he cleared his throat as he looked you in the eye. “You know, you haven't talked much about why you were a freelance agent. Even during the interview.”

Your brows furrowed at the sudden question and you shrugged. “I wanted to be.”

“Everyone knows it’s a lot more dangerous than being in an agency,” Lockwood said. “Ghosts are hard enough to deal with in a group— going on your own is asking for trouble.”

“Before I came in, it was just you and George,” you countered. “You’ve got no supervisors, just the two of you hoping for the best. I’d say that’s asking for trouble.”

“You’re deflecting,” Lockwood said.

You glanced away, finally letting out a sigh as you leaned back in your chair.

“You don’t have to—”

“Because from the moment I discovered my Talent, I’ve heard horror stories from agencies. Entire teams going down on doomed missions, sole survivors left to live with the guilt for the rest of their lives. It happened to one of the teams in my agency, and I knew I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen to me.”

Lockwood’s eyes softened, and he stayed silent as you continued.

“I have no team, I have no roommates—when I’m on my own, no one has to worry about me,” you said quietly. “If something goes wrong, and I die, that’s it. No guilt, no problems, no legal trouble. No mourners.”

Lockwood frowned. “That’s not a very good way to look at it.”

“Never said it was,” you said wryly. “It’s just the way I look at it.”

“Your family would care.”

You shook your head. “They wouldn’t.”

He was silent for a good moment, and then he reached over and took your hand. It was a shock at first, your eyes widening slightly as they darted up to meet his, but he was calm as ever.

“You’ve got us now,” he said. “Lockwood & Co. Me and George. And we’d care very much if you were to die, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from that.”

That got a watery laugh out of you, and you felt the beginnings of tears behind your eyes for some reason. “I don’t think that was in my contract.”

“It was in the fine print,” Lockwood assured. He looked so much younger when he smiled, like he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“That changes everything then.” Your voice was slightly stilted as you pulled away, and you turned slightly as you wiped at your eyes so he couldn’t see. If Lockwood noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Try and get some sleep,” he murmured. “If George is on board, we’ve got a very long day tomorrow.”

You nodded, clearing your throat as you stood up. “You too. Can’t go into battle without our fearless leader.”

He chuckled and nodded, his eyes never leaving you as you walked to the door. You paused, setting your hand on the frame, and turned around.

“Thank you, Lockwood,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I mean it.”

He smiled, and you found yourself lost in it for a moment. He really was beautiful. “Any time.”

And so your days continued on as a certified member of Lockwood & Co, becoming more integrated by the hour.

It wasn’t much longer before George took to you, and when you found a break in a case that saved you hours of potential digging through the archives, your spot as ‘respected colleague and potential friend’ was cemented.

Lockwood already knew more about you than most, putting him in the ‘weird friend, weird boss’ category. The man literally never slept, and all the information he knew about you was willingly given to him through late night vulnerability. You needed to start forcing yourself to stay in bed, if not solely to keep some secrets between you.

But— yeah, he was nice. Easy to joke around with, easy to work with, easy on the eyes. You’d smiled and laughed more in a single month at Portland Row than you had in three years as a freelance agent. Far better than the lonely studio apartment you holed up in between cases.

The warmth was beginning to penetrate your skin, you thought with a slight smile.

“What in the world are you doing?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice. You looked up from the baking sheet to see Lockwood waiting in the doorway with a small smile.

“Stress baking,” you said with a slight chuckle as you continued scooping dough onto the tray.

“At two in the morning?”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and extra research wasn’t doing me any good. I had to get the nerves out somehow, and unless I fancied a nice bout with a Visitor, I couldn’t exactly go for a run.”

“So you decided on cookies instead,” he said wryly. “You know, you really should try and get more sleep.”

“Says you.” You finished filling up the tray and you picked it up, glancing at Lockwood as you walked over to the oven. “Every night that I’m up, you’re up too. That’s got to be unhealthy.”

“I’m a busy man,” he responded. “I can’t have half of my employees running around sleep deprived.”

You chuckled. “Good to know you care.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Always.”

“But you have to care about yourself, too.” You shut the oven and set a timer on your watch, then gestured at the counter where an already finished tray sat. “Try one.”

“Sugar so close to bed?” he joked.

“Oh, please,” you brushed your hand through the air, “we both know you’re not falling asleep any time soon.”

Lockwood cracked a smile as he walked over, picking up a cookie from the sheet. “Chocolate chip?”

“The best,” you confirmed.

He took a bite and he hummed as his eyebrows rose. “Surprisingly good,” he said after he swallowed.

“‘Surprisingly’?” you repeated. “Why can’t they just be normally good?”

“You may have noticed, but George is our resident chef.” Lockwood finished the rest of the cookie, much to your silent delight, and he went to the fridge. “I’m just surprised we’ve got two culinary experts on the team now.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’m not anywhere near an expert. I’m much better at baking than cooking, so George has that market cornered.”

Lockwood smiled, and he finished his cup of water. “He’ll be happy to know that. He’d probably love to share some of his recipes with you.”

“I’d love that more,” you said. “His halva the other day was incredible.”

“I’ll let him know. Of course,” his eyes twinkled, “he’d probably be more flattered if you told him yourself. If there’s one thing he’s prouder of than his work in the archives, it’s his work in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be sure to,” you agreed.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?” Lockwood asked as usual.

As usual, you rolled your eyes, bit back your smile. “I’ve got two more trays worth of dough. I promise I’ll go after they’re done.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Do you also promise to leave some for us?”

You laughed. “Of course. I didn’t make them just for stress relief, you know.”

“Good,” Lockwood repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. The later morning, rather.”

“You get some sleep too,” you said, pointing your spatula at him, “or else all of these are going to George.”

He placed his fist over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Good. Now get out of here.”

Lockwood chuckled as he walked out, spurring a smile of your own. You picked up a cookie and took a bite, humming in approval at the taste.

“Normally good,” you murmured to yourself as you watched the oven. “Not surprisingly good.”

(When Lockwood came down the next morning, there were two plates of cookies sitting on the counter. He moved to take one, but then he noticed the Post-its.

One read GEORGE and one read LOCKWOOD, each in front of their own separate plates. There was another at the top—NO STEALING :) or I will never make cookies again

He chuckled, his mind wandering to you as he finally took one—from his plate, of course—and bit into it.

Normally good, he thought with a slight smile.

A fine addition to the team indeed.)

You yawned as you walked down the hallway, rubbing at your groggy eyes. You couldn’t sleep, as was per usual when you were working on such a big case, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

Your mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute any time you even tried to close your eyes. Truly, you had no idea how George functioned with a brain like his.

You were about to go into the kitchen to make yourself your usual midnight cup of tea, hoping it would work its usual magic, when you saw the door to the library cracked open.

You couldn’t help but smile. He’d told you and George to go to bed early to make sure you were all ready for the job the next day, and here he was. Restless as ever and still a liar.

You pushed the door the rest of the way open, blinking a bit at the lights as you leaned against the frame. “Up late again, Lockwood?” you asked, and he started when he turned to you and said your name.

“You should be asleep,” he said.

“So should you.”

“I’m looking over the floorplans one last time,” Lockwood said. “This place is huge, and I want to make sure I know every part of it.”

“We’ve drilled the exits a thousand times,” you said. “We already know the mansion inside out—cramming at midnight isn’t going to help anyone. Actually being rested for once will.”

Lockwood gave you a wry look. “Awfully strong words coming from you.”

“I was going to the kitchen to make some tea,” you defended. “And then I was going to go right back to sleep.”

He smiled as he looked at you, and then he nodded and stood up. “Alright. Come on.”

You raised your eyebrows as Lockwood started walking, and then he took your hand and started pulling you along.

“Oh my god,” you said with a laugh, “I can walk on my own.”

All he said was, “I know,” in that annoyingly cocky tone of his, and you continued following him as you went up the stairs. When he pulled open the door of his room, you

“Neither of us are very good at staying asleep,” Lockwood said wryly, “and I really don’t trust you to get enough in the face of tomorrow. So…”

“You think sleeping in the same bed will help,” you surmised.

He shrugged. “At the very least, I’ll be able to make sure you do fall asleep.”

“Then the same goes for you.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him for a moment. You didn’t exactly… know what to do.

The words rushed out of his mouth. “Of course if you don’t want to—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “No, it’s alright. I want to.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Alright.”

You pulled back the covers, clearing your throat as you took your side and Lockwood took his after turning the lamp off. You didn’t know why this was so awkward, sharing a bed with the boy you’d worked with for the past few months, but it was. You’d faced down countless ghosts together, but this was apparently too much.

“Your bed’s comfortable,” you said, desperate to break the silence. You stared at his wall, your back turned to him, Lockwood in the same position.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know how you’re ever not sleeping through the night with a mattress like this.”

Lockwood chuckled. “Sight isn’t my only talent.”

You smiled. “Very true.”

“Why are you always up?” he asked. “I know my old bed isn’t the most comfortable, but it seems you’re always up.”

“It seems you’re always up.”

“Deflecting,” he said. Your mind flashed back to the first night in the library.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve always been a restless person, but being an agent has just… worsened it. I had a couple of bad months working on my own and I don’t think I’ve fully recovered.”

“Ah.” You could feel his breathing in the slight shifts of the bed, and it was oddly comforting. “I hope that we haven’t made it worse.”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “If anything, you’ve made it better. Portland Row is the embodiment of warmth, and you two are fantastic.”

“Well, we aren’t going anywhere,” Lockwood assured. “...I’m not going anywhere. So if you ever need anything, please tell us.”

Your voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Your sleepless nights varied in frequency as the months went on.

Sometimes you were so exhausted when you staggered through the doors of Portland Row that you felt as if you could sleep the night away on the couch. Other times, despite being worked to the bone from a difficult job, you would find yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room, unable to get the visions from the day out of your head.

That was the lovely thing about Touch. The way you saw it, you gave a small part of yourself over each time you used it, and once you got it back, the things you’d seen were embedded in it—in you. It was awfully difficult to separate yourself from your jobs when you threw yourself so fully into it, when you had no other choice but to do so.

Lockwood and George had become accustomed to how deep you felt things. When you needed to be alone after a job, when you needed one of them to talk nonstop to keep you distracted, when you just needed to sit with them in silence and be assured that this too would pass, no matter how slow. That was the nicest thing about being part of the group—you didn’t have to lick your wounds on your own.

When it got really bad—and sometimes it did—you and Lockwood would share his room. His presence was unparalleled in bringing you comfort, and whispered conversations in the dark made you feel some sort of way. He was practically your savior.

When he wasn’t helping you through the night, more often than not, Lockwood would be up at the same hour as you. It was concerning, though you couldn’t say anything about it. He would just throw it back at you, claiming you should be asleep as well. At least George was exempt from the criticism. Bless him.

He found you in a lot of positions. Sitting on the floor of the kitchen scrubbing furiously at the plasm stains on your boots. Sitting on the floor of their living room, one of their case files in your lap as you recounted a previous case. Sitting on the floor of the basement, measuring out salt for bombs and ensuring their flares were stocked. You liked sitting on the floor while you did things, apparently—Lockwood had figured that out after a few weeks of sleepless nights. It was strange.

And of course, the occasional bout of stress baking, ranging from cookies to brownies to pastries and more. You once even baked an entire cake in the middle of the night out of pure anger, the result of a frustrating loss to a Fittes team. Not getting the case hurt a little bit less the next morning when you all had cake to dull the pain.

You found him just as many times. Sometimes getting his own cups of tea in the kitchen, sometimes reading those gossip magazines he was fond of, sometimes doing his own restocks of your supplies. Usually, though, he was just sitting in the library stressed over one thing or another.

You noticed he always tried to hide it from you, covering it with his easy smiles and well-placed jokes. It couldn’t be easy to run an agency as a teenager, no matter how small—you wondered how many restless evenings you would have to share together for him to drop the mask.

Eventually, though, it was decided that another agent was needed. Lockwood and his Sight, you and your Touch, George as an all-arounder—he was your only source for Listening, but it had never been his strong suit. After you nearly got ghost-touched because of that blatant lack of Listening, Lockwood put his foot down and put out an ad.

Enter one Lucy Carlyle: excellent Listener, skilled in Touch, a myriad of opinions. You liked her the moment you met her, her image only sullied by her taking two biscuits. You could hardly blame her though, the way George pushed her. He loved to push.

Due to a lack of rooms but an imminent need for Talent, it was decided that Lucy would room in the attic with you. You were able to get one of the spare beds all the way up to the attic between the four of you, and when you all promptly collapsed on the ground together, it was agreed upon that Lockwood & Company would stick to ghosts. Very good for team bonding, though.

It took Lucy a bit to get used to you, especially in such close quarters, but soon enough you were joking around and talking like you’d known each other for years. You knew she was good, but witnessing her listening was awe-inspiring. You almost couldn’t believe you’d gotten her over Fittes or Atkinson and Armstrong, but you weren’t going to complain. You felt as if your motley crew could do anything.

“I can’t believe he did this,” you seethed.

Well, there were certain things your motley crew did not need to do. Especially your leader.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Lucy said.

“I can’t believe he did this!” you repeated, louder and more annoyed as you threw yourself against the wall. “How stupid can one boy be?”

“He was trying to save you, y’know,” Lucy said dryly.

“I didn’t need to be saved,” you grumbled. “He did it because he’s reckless and stupid.”

“...That’s fair,” Lucy said after a moment. “He is quite reckless.”

“Don’t forget stupid.”

Her lips twitched for a moment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t speak ill of the injured.”

“That’s just the dead,” you muttered. “And we speak plenty of ill of them.”

This was all because of a job that went wrong. And you were certain it wouldn’t have gone wrong if Lockwood could hold himself back for a moment.

“Are you sure that’s him?” you murmured, disguising your words with your cup of sparkling cider.

“Positive,” Lockwood confirmed. “Arthur Torres, one of Sunrise Corporation’s many useless executives.”

“Lovely.” You finished your drink. “I distract and you steal, right?”

“Actually,” Lockwood said, and you didn’t like that at all, “you steal, I distract.”

Your brows furrowed. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I make the plans,” he said, “I can change them.”

“Not when we spend hours going over them to ensure they’re flawless,” you said tartly.

“Relax.” He smiled at you, and somehow it managed to carve through your irritation. He slipped the keycard out of his pocket and pressed it into your hand. “I’m very good at improvising.”

“Lockw—” You didn’t have the chance to chastise him the way he deserved before he slipped off, a very convenient waiter filling the space he left before you could dart after him. You scoffed as you placed your empty glass on their tray, your eyes narrowed as you glared at Lockwood from beyond.

He paid no attention to you, not until he made the signal. He ‘accidentally’ bumped into Mr. Torres, spilling his wine all over his jacket, and before the first apology could fall from his lips, you were gone.

You muttered curses under your breath the entire way, slipping past guards and security the best you could on the way to the stairwell. You took them two at a time as you hurried to the fourth floor, and though you were completely out of breath by the time you made it, you were pleased that there were no guards. George said he would have the security cameras disabled before you got there, so you just had to trust in him.

You continued to take in and let out deep breaths as you walked up to the door, and they turned into a sigh of relief when you scanned the keycard and it opened. You heard footsteps behind you and whirled around, your hand flying on instinct for the rapier that wasn’t there, and your eyes widened yet again when you saw it was Lockwood.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed.

He held up his hands in defense, as he stopped jogging, and then he brushed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “I came to help you.”

“You’re meant to be distracting Mr. Torres,” you said incredulously. “Lockwood, do you even care for the sanctity of plans?”

“I care about your safety,” he said, calm in the face of your anger. “That’s why I’m here.”

“And where is he? Hopefully not in reach of his various guards that could ruin us and our careers at any second.”

“I left him in the washroom,” Lockwood said. “How are you doing?”

You set your jaw, and you sighed as you gestured with your head into the now-open office. “Let’s just find this source so we can get out of here.”

Now came the not-so-legal part, that some may even call theft. Lockwood called it discreetly fixing mistakes, you called it your shoddy morals. Not that you were torn up about stealing from an executive businessman, you just didn’t particularly fancy losing your license over it.

A rich family had hired Lockwood & Co to find and return a source that was important to their family, and of course it was housed by Mr. Torres of the Sunrise Corporation. You’d no idea what it was with wealthy people and their flaunting of sources, but you’d had enough of it. They paid handsomely for the risk though, hence your shoddy morals.

This, honestly, was the easy part. You touched a few things, concentrated until your head hurt, and it led you right to it. Quite disappointing—you didn’t know why the Paladinos would keep a paperweight in the family, and more importantly how it came about to be a source, but that didn’t really matter. It sat on Torres’s desk, surrounded by Sunrise Corporation silver-glass, and just for extra measure Lockwood put it into a metal box of your own. You shoved it into your backpack, and the job was halfway done.

The other half was getting out without being spotted.

The two of you worked quickly to erase all traces of your being there, and soon enough you were hurrying through the halls together.

“That was good work.”

You ignored him.

“The Paladinos’ money will do a lot of good for us.”

You ignored him.

“Seriously. You work well on the fly.”

“We shouldn’t have had to work on the fly,” you finally said bitterly.

“Why are you so mad?” Lockwood asked with a slight laugh. God, his nerve. “It all worked out. We’ve got the source, we’ll get the payment, and we didn’t even have to deal with any Visitors. Torres is still clueless.”

“That’s not the point, Lockwood,” you hissed. You forced your expression back into neutrality as you walked out of the stairwell and back into the midst of the party, and you and Lockwood moved at a normal pace. He offered occasional smiles and nods to people in the crowd, and you both nodded at the guards at the exit when you left.

You couldn’t even relish in your victory, because once you’d gotten out of hearing distance, around the corner where no guards or partygoers could see or hear you, Lockwood stopped you.

“What is the point then?” he asked. “If none of what I said is the point, then what is the point?”

“The point is that you don’t trust me!” you exclaimed.

He immediately frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you even follow me in the first place?” you asked. “It was your decision to switch it up at the last moment, and you couldn’t even follow through with that?”

Lockwood didn’t say anything, and you shook your head.

“You don’t trust me,” you repeated quietly.

He said your name then, a slightly wild look in his eyes as he turned to you. “That’s not it.”

“It is.” A muscle worked in your jaw. “Because if you thought I could do it, you would have let me do it instead of risking both of our lives. You wouldn’t have switched our roles in the first place.”

“Torres was suspicious,” he insisted. “He— he was saying things, talking about how he had to make his guards check on his office. He’s a paranoid man, and you could have been in much more danger if I hadn’t abandoned him.”

“That is bullshit!” you exclaimed. “God, it was your bloody idea in the first place! Is it suddenly not good enough? Am I not good enough?”

“That is not what this is about,” Lockwood snapped.

“Then what is it about?” you marveled. “Why did you switch roles in the first place? You’ve told me I could talk my way out of anything, but when the time comes, you shake things up for no reason. For no reason, Lockwood.”

“People know my face better than they know yours,” Lockwood said. “Torres was more willing to talk with the head of a rising agency, you were able to slip around easier because of who you are.”

“Why didn’t you think of that before we were in the thick of it all?” you asked incredulously, and you laughed. “I’ve saved your life multiple times, Lockwood, and you’ve done the same for me. You talk me up all the time to my face, saying I’m what this agency was missing, that I’m part of your family, that— that you’ll never let me go. But that’s all it is, isn’t it?” A shaky smile formed for just a moment before it broke. “Just talk.”

Lockwood said your name desperately, but you shook your head. “No. Justify it however you want, but you nearly sabotaged the entire job just because you didn’t have enough faith in me. That’s it.”

“I’m telling you, that’s not it.” He let out a ragged sigh, running a distressed hand through his hair, when he suddenly froze.

“Good evening, sir!” he called, confident as ever, like your argument hadn’t just happened. “We’re just—”

His voice broke off mid sentence, and then he yelled your name. You whirled around.

It was a guard, and he was armed. He must have spotted you when you were leaving the office, or maybe George had missed a camera and he’d seen your thievery—there were about a thousand things that could have gone wrong. For a split second, you stared down the barrel of the gun. Funny how you’d stared down what felt like hundreds of ghosts, and a bit of metal was what had you frozen.

The guard pulled the trigger.

Lockwood lunged.

You screamed.

“He’s lucky DEPRAC didn’t find the source in my bag,” you muttered. “They already interrogated me to hell and back while he was in the hospital. Luckily, it usually doesn’t look too good when an adult shoots a teenager and can hardly defend himself against it.”

“The bloke deserved to be fired,” Lucy said. “A paperweight is certainly not worth shooting someone over.”

“And it’s certainly not worth getting shot for,” you added.

“It’s kind of funny,” Lucy said offhandedly. “He’s the one that got shot for you, and yet he’s apologizing to you.”

“Because it’s his fault that he got us in that situation in the first place!” you exclaimed. You winced as your words sunk in, and you looked over at Lucy. “That was too harsh, wasn’t it?”

“...A bit,” she admitted.

You sighed dramatically and hit your head against the side of the wall. “I’m acting like a child.”

“A bit.”

“I just don’t know how he expects me to face him,” you said. “I’ve been working with him for the better part of a year, and somehow he still doesn’t trust me.”

“I… don’t think that’s it,” Lucy said.

“How could it not be it?” you said. “He wouldn’t have acted like he did if he trusted me.”

She shrugged. “Have you thought that it’s because he cares about you?”

“He cares about all of us, Luce.”

“He cares about you more,” she said plainly. “In a different way.”

Your head whipped towards her, and you stared at her for a good five seconds. “You are not saying what I think you’re saying.”

“If you think I’m saying it, it’s for good reason,” she said.

“We are colleagues,” you said slowly. “Nothing less, nothing more.”

Lucy said your name with a slight laugh. “He took a bullet for you.”

“He shuffled our assignments because he didn’t trust me,” you said.

“He shuffled your assignments because he was worried about you,” she countered. “He didn’t want you with Torres because if you were found out, Lockwood didn’t want him to remember your face. And he abandoned his post because he was worried about you, that something would go wrong and he wouldn’t be there to help.”

You stared at her before you continued your pacing. “You’re insane. You’re kicked out of the agency.”

“I’m right,” she said wryly. “And may I remind you again that he took a bloody bullet for you?”

“I’ve already given him that,” you said. “I lost my damn mind when it happened—almost tore the guard apart with my bare hands. I freaked out the entire way to the hospital with him.”

“And now you’re almost completely ignoring him,” Lucy said. “Face it: you like him. You just don’t want to admit it because it would mean having an actual conversation with him about it all rather than pacing a hole in the floor.”

“You’re wrong.” You huffed and leaned back against the wall. “You’re wrong.”

Lucy sighed and she offered a faint smile as she stood up. “You take some time to realize all this. I’m stealing George for an Arif’s run.”

“Leaving us alone,” you said flatly, staring ahead as she walked out. “You’re not clever, Lucy Carlyle!”

“Thank you!” she called with a laugh, and you hit your head against the wall once more when she closed the door behind her.

Sometimes you really hated your friends.

It wasn’t like you were avoiding Lockwood. That would be cruel.

Stupid as he was, he got shot, and he got shot for you. Avoiding him would be ridiculous.

You were just… strategically not talking to him.

And that was arguably worse, yes, letting him see you but not deigning to say a single thing to him that wasn’t business related.

It was even worse than worse because you’d inadvertently proven Lucy right. If this were any normal annoyance between friends, like the squabbles you and George were prone to or the bouts that your boys got into over patience and its virtues, it wouldn’t be this strong.

You’d held grudges against Lockwood before. When he forgot to soak your boots overnight so you had to go into an important job with plasm stains, when he ate the strawberry sprinkled donut just to spite you, when you and George were still in rocky territory and he made you marathon the archives with him for nine hours straight.

All of those, annoying as they were, were forgiven rather quickly. And yes, maybe this grudge was especially strong because of the severity of his injury, but…

You could admit it. Normal people didn’t hold grudges over their best friend throwing themselves in front of them to prevent them from getting shot. Normal people were thankful. Normal people could talk about their feelings when they realized it was the reason for their strife.

You, apparently, were not normal. And neither was anyone in this bloody agency, because nobody deigned to make it any easier for you.

Perhaps it was a bit stupid on your part, but you walked down to the kitchen anyway. You needed some tea to clear your mind. Instead, you were met with a half-shirtless Lockwood.

“Ah,” he said your name, looking up from his spot against the counter, “nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.”

“What are you doing?” you asked. It was almost embarrassing—you were meant to be holding a grudge and ignoring your feelings, and instead you were staring at him like a girl in primary school. Remarkable how quickly you forgot your objectives.

“The doctor said I had to redress my wound every day for the first week,” he said. “Lucy and George just went out, so I figured I would do it now.”

Your brows furrowed. “How do you feel?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he said. Lucy’s words pounded in your ears. “I don’t think you avoiding me is good for my health.”

You bit your lip and remained silent. Rocky territory, this was.

“It’s alright if you just want to stand there.” Lockwood grimaced a bit as he pressed the alcohol-soaked pad to his wound. “Moral support is very helpful.”

Remarkable how quickly the dam broke. You sighed and closed the distance, holding out your hand when you stopped a few meters in front of him. “Give it to me.”

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose.

“Give it to me,” you repeated. “I’ve dealt with many of my own wounds over the years. It’ll be a lot faster if I do it for you.”

His lips quirked into a slight smile as he handed the cloth over. “This is better than moral support.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You couldn’t help the small smile of your own as you started to dab at the surrounding blood on his chest, innately aware of your proximity but trying your best to ignore it. “This doesn’t look too bad, honestly.”

“I was shot,” he said dryly. “I think I deserve a few style points for that.”

“You’ve already earned them all, Lockwood.”

“That makes sense.” You felt his eyes on you as you continued to work, pointedly ignoring his gaze. “You know, they didn’t take the bullet out. Said it would be worse to take it out, and it’s not causing any problems inside. So I’ve got a bullet in me now.”

Your brows furrowed. “Interesting.”

“Indeed. I’ll be going off in airports for the rest of my life.”

Your fingers hovered over his chest for a moment, and you pulled away with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

It was his turn to frown. “What for?”

“For—” you let out another sigh, rougher this time. “For this.”

“It wasn’t your fault I got shot,” he said. “I quite clearly remember pushing you out of the way.”

“I know,” you said. “I— I am quite sorry that you got shot, though.”

“Obviously,” he said coyly, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m sorry for this grudge. It’s probably the stupidest out of all the ones I’ve held against you so far.”

“George keeps a running list,” Lockwood said. “I’m sure we can figure that out.”

“I’m serious.” Your hand lingered on Lockwood’s chest for a moment, his body warmth almost shocking, before you set the cloth down on the counter. You started to put a fresh bandage on, but you finally mustered the strength to look at him. “I was so upset at the thought that you didn’t trust me because your opinion means a lot to me, Lockwood. The way you think of me means a lot to me.” You cleared your throat, averting your eyes for a moment. “You mean a lot to me.”

Lockwood gently tipped your chin back towards him, your eyes meeting his. He really was beautiful—eyes that were softer than ever, his tousled hair, the slope of his jaw. Slightly chapped lips, the bags under his eyes that seemed to be permanent, the weight of the world on his shoulders that seemed to diminish ever so slightly when you were around.

Your Lockwood.

“You mean a lot to me as well,” he said. “Why do you think I reassigned us last minute? Why do you think I took a bullet for you?”

“Because you’re a reckless idiot?”

“Because I panic around you,” he said, “in addition to being a reckless idiot. Whenever we’re on a job, half of my mind is focused on ghosts, and the other half is making sure nothing happens to you. You drive me the best kind of insane.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. You wanted to kiss him more than anything, to root your hands in that tousled hair and make it an even bigger mess. You wanted to make him realize he didn’t have to worry about you, because you weren’t going anywhere without him.

The words stuck in your throat. You finished applying his bandage, and you took a step away.

“Thank you,” you said.

He didn’t look angry or annoyed or irritated—he understood. He understood you.

“Always.”

And it was as simple as that.

It wasn’t really a surprise you couldn’t sleep that night. You hadn’t exactly talked to Lockwood since your show of emotion in the kitchen, embarrassing as it was. You made Lucy check downstairs before you went down for supper, and that was just so you could make the quickest sandwich of your life and immediately hurry back upstairs.

Pathetic, really. You mustered the strength to tell the boy you liked him, he returned it, you ran off and locked yourself in the attic.

And it wasn’t because it was too much. You just… you didn’t know. You might’ve driven Lockwood insane, but he turned you into a complete idiot. It was ridiculous. And you were not ridiculous.

So when night rolled around, when Lucy and George were sound asleep and the ghost lamps flickered on every three minutes and you had only the owls outside your window for company, you knew what you were going to do.

You threw on your sweatshirt, carefully padded across the floor and out the door so as to not wake Lucy, and you went down the stairs.

Surprisingly, you’d never felt calmer.

The light was on in the library. The door was slightly pushed open, the nondescript act that had turned into a beacon for the two of you.

You knocked on the wall before you pushed the door open some more, not waiting for an answer as you leaned against the doorframe.

Lockwood sat in his armchair, a magazine half open but neglected on his lap. His eyes shined the moment you stepped inside.

“Got room for one more?” you asked softly.

Lockwood’s shoulders relaxed, his throat bobbing for a moment before that damn smile pulled at his lips.

“Always.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

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amethystfairy1 · 3 months

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Are there any deleted scenes/miscellaneous ttsbc things you'd love to share but haven't found the opportunity to yet? This is an open mic to ramble about anything related to ttsbc (if you don't have anything, feel free to ignore this ask)

OHHHHHHHHHH BOY YOU'VE GIVEN ME PERMISSION TO RAMBLE!

Ok ok ok...

Well, there are a couple little things I guess as far as 'deleted' scenes.

I was originally planning on having more heroes in the overcity alongside Scar and then having several other undercity vigilantes and really leaning into that concept. For example Cleo was going to be an older undercity vigilante who worked in the overcity and was helping Grian out as a mentor-type. There was also plans to have guy-in-the-chair Doc, and have him and Cleo be the two people who raised the avian trio. Alongside that, Pearl, Jimmy, Bdubs, and others were going to be vigilantes as well with various gimmicks/power sets.

But then as I was writing I realized I wanted to expand the AU, so I decided to lean more heavily into the idea of having various pairings that all had their own storylines. First up was Flower Husbands, and as I was considering them I decided on the route I ended up taking, with Grian being the only vigilante and having a support network behind him in the form of Pearl and Jimmy. Then it just sorta spiraled. 😆

As for other rambling about stuff I deleted/changed, I've always shipped Doctho but it's kind of a rarepair so I wasn't originally going to include it. Like I said, I was originally going to have Doc and Cleo be the ones who raised the avian trio, with Bdubs and Tango in that mix. The more I thought about it though, I decided that I wanted to have Doctho be the parental figures for the avian trio!

For Doctho, I originally was just planning to drop them as sort of a background thing and not really give them much attention. Just that they were the parental figures for the avian trio. But then people started saying in comments how much they loved Doctho in this AU and that they wanted to see the worldbuilding expand, and learn more about the undercity and it's history, and I thought the best way to do that would be through Doc and Etho and their history together!

And so we got 'Bleeding Sweetheart' and that was really when the ball started rolling on having this AU have an actual plot that is being driven forward by the characters instead of it just being a world for all these characters to exist in. Let me be clear, TTSBC will always be a character driven narrative. If anything is happening, it's for the sake of driving their relationships, both romantically and for the found families we've met, such as the Oddball Family, Cleo and Bdubs, and the Empires family whom we are getting to know right now in 'Blessing in Disguise'!

Anything else to share...I dunno, there's a ton of stuff in this AU. What I have posted so far isn't even half of it which is kinda ridiculous, huh? Theres lots I have planned for the AU! I know right now Traveling Thieves is getting a lot of my attention because of Febuwhump, but I'm really excited to get back to working on TTSBC and continuing it forward! Zedango is one ship I'm really excited to show off, I have a plan for them that I think is really interesting and unique. Not to mention Nature Wives, I haven't forgotten about them, either! So yeah, I guess the conclusion to this ramble is please stick around! I wanna share a whole bunch more of the AU with everyone!

Thanks for coming by 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #through the sky blue cracks #worldbuilding #life series #hermitshipping #zedango #nature wives #doctho #zombie cleo #bdubs #tangotek #pearlescentmoon #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands

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seth-likes-pepsi · 20 days

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"Nothing is wrong."

A Jaylex fanfic about Jay's reaction to Alex's change in behaviour during Marble Hornets, intended to be platonic :p

Jay's living room was dark, light shut off, and curtains drawn. The only light source came from the small TV settled on a shabby cabinet that Jay always worried would break under the slightest pressure. The screen displayed a scene from Fight Club, Jay could never get into it, but Alex always seemed to love it. With every change in scene or camera angle, Jay knew to expect a long and passionate rant about every detail of it, even obscure things that most people wouldn't know to point out after several watches. But this time was different. It had been different for a while. Instead of proudly speaking over the whole film, he simply sat there and stared at the screen, occasionally coughing or shaking slightly. It seemed as though he was disconnected from reality or in a weird trance. This wasn't Alex, or at least the Alex that Jay knew.

It had been a couple of weeks since Jay finally realised that something was wrong with Alex. Perhaps it was his frequent coughing fits, or his unpredictable temper, or maybe his constantly growing collection of tapes. Jay attempted to speak to him about it, only to be consistently shut down or brushed off.

"I just have a sore throat."

"I'm exhausted."

"You're thinking into it too much."

"Nothing is wrong."

As time passed and it continued, Jay struggled to figure out who Alex was trying to lie to. He worried that every time Alex had assured Jay he was fine or made an excuse, he was trying so badly to convince himself of that, that everything was fine, that he was the same person he'd always been. The thought tore him up inside. Was Alex okay? Was something happening? What could Alex possibly be hiding?

Jay's thoughts spiralled over the coming months, with Alex's worsening and concerning behaviour slowly consuming Jay's thoughts. Until it finally stopped, and Alex moved away, but not without leaving one last piece of himself. The tapes. The tapes he'd been so protective of. Jay struggled to cope with Alex moving away. It felt like he'd hit a dead end with someone he used to call his best friend. The thought of the tapes made his skin crawl, Alex's attitude towards them made him want to throw them out himself. What the fuck was on those tapes. Surely it was just Marble Hornets footage, right? Jay couldn't take it much longer and shoved the box in the depths of his wardrobe, hoping to forget about them.

#jay marble hornets #jay mh #jay merrick #alex kralie #alex kralie is under appreciated #alex kralie marble hornets #alex kralie mh #jaylex #marble hornets #marble hornets fanfic #fanfic #ive never written a fanfic before #writing

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putnamcapital · 2 months

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s1 ep 6 rewatch notes

[yeah i am still doing these essays, everyone copes differently OKAY]

I wish i had the words to convey my love for the Simon-Rosh-Ayub dynamic when they’re sitting on his bed trying to talk about his video, not the Kim K. video. it’s an instance of one of the things i ADORE about YR, namely, the importance of the love and support of friends - “the gang is back together”. contra a lot of the teenage and adult movies that put romantic love on a pedestal and everything else goes to the dogs.

That shot of Wille set against the sky when the Queen leaves = is it the apocalypse or is it heartbreak and i'm not the only one seeing the religious imagery right?

“we haven’t done anything wrong.” Simon’s moral clarity, his unbreakable backbone - it’s a moment where it’s obvious the Court has no idea who they are dealing with. I’m not sure Wille even knows then.

Frida doesn’t get enough praise for her acting. that side eye of August as they cross in front of him loafing on the picnic table: sublime.

Another parallel I hadn’t seen before: Sara dresses up before dinner; she likes the image she sees of herself in the mirror. She is “someone she is not”, according to Simon (later that night), but she wants that false countenance. In S2, that same move will devastate Wille. But we have another Sara-mirror scene, in S2. Leaning on the Wille-Sara parallel, there’s something being done here about becoming who you are through artifice (dressing up ‘in costume’) or through love (revealing your true self). August (as opposed to Simon, i think …) ends up being a false or traitorous ‘coming into self through love’ for Sara.

Related … when Sara went to see August to confront him about the video, i have retrospectively imagined her as having planned what happened. But if you look at the scene as it happens, both Sara and August seem to just be playing the situation as it arises. Sara starts off by not even intending to tell August, I think that was honest. When she then confronted him about the video, she first asks why did you do this to Wille and then, how do you have the right, you destroyed Simon? none of it is about her. it’s when August asks her ‘what do you want’ - that i think the idea comes to her. And i think that explains her face after she kisses August - her revulsion at herself. it seems like a situation that spiralled out of control very fast.

i can’t really talk about the Sara-Simon fight scene because it’s my Point of No Return in terms of “This is a nice program to watch of an evening” and “These characters have become my entire waking and sleeping existence, is there treatment for this.”

in the scene that starts with them sitting on the floor in Wille’s room, there is that tender moment by the door, and one of the top two kisses and hugs in the whole of season 1 and 2 combined, punctuated with the forehead tap. and i’ve always thought it so lovely until this time i saw the “red flag” - the towel hanging on the hook - and it reminded me of the red ‘flag’ we see in the locker room every other time things go south.

the scene with kristina and wille in the car starts simply with him saying, “WHAT?” which a) comes straight out of fanfic; b) is hyper-realistic adolescent approach to dialogue but also c) actually shows that they are really close. as in, Wille might loathe his mother by the end of this episode, but also he knows exactly what she’s thinking and they can just skip all the usual staging aspects of conversation. it links, i now see, to the book scene, where wille admits that he can’t just throw out everything he’s been taught, b/c he’s internalized it so well

when K is lecturing W about all the public attention he’s going to get now, and how it will be even worse, it’s the same shot of him looking out the car window wishing he could be literally anyone else as in the first few minutes of s1ep1, after the club fight. and we see his reflection in the window, so we get him 'in double' - who he is IRL, and who he is seen to be by the viewer. very clever. very clever.

#young royals #yr s1 rewatch #sometimes frankly i wish i had never watched this show can i be released #yr office meltdown

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unknownarmageddon · 7 months

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thinking about proximity boys getting into like. a fight with other survivors

like they get jumped one night, and are just having a good time, being all gay (they are kissing and smooching) and then a big ass rock comes flying out from fuck knows where and killer is suddenly staring at cross’s unconscious body, horrified at the spiderweb of cracks, a bloodied stone thudding onto the dirt and then a group of monsters, like 4 of them, come crashing out of the surrounding buildings

and killer snarls angrily, and grabs his bat and cross’s machete and he goes in swinging like a rabid animal, cursing at them, and just going apeshit, “you MOTHERFUCKERS.”

and like, they had taken out cross cuz he was the bigger one of the two, and deemed killer harmless, so imagine the shock when killer comes charging with murder in his eyes

and he like. comes at them and just stabs, slashing at them so angrily that he nearly decapitates one and he leaves the machete in the chest of the other and he whips around, and there’s the other two, trying to make a break for it, cross’s backpack slung over one of their shoulders

and killer just, forces them back, bashing one upside the head, tearing one of his knives out to drive it through the other’s eye

and the whole time, he’s just fucking terrified and not really aware of what he’s doing because all he can see is cross’s cracked skull and they took him away and it’s just this rapid spiral of snowballing grief and anger and he just screams at the very dead body and hits it harder

meanwhile cross comes to, a little concussed but perfectly fine, and he sits up, confused and dazed, and then it’s killer’s yelling and he scrambles to get up, and turns around to find killer stabbing some very dead monster in the face over and over

and cross stumbles over, panicking at the blood on killer’s body, and grabs him and killer starts thrashing and giving these watery, sad shouts, clawing blindly at this perceived attacker, but cross drags him off of the dusting monster and clings to him, “it’s me! it’s me, it’s okay, they’re gone-“ and killer just goes limp for a moment before just crying

and anyways the idea of killer thinking cross died, killing the attackers, and then just sobbing hysterically when cross is not in fact dead, i dunno. i dunno man

and i wanna think, this happens like, right after the distance arc, so im just. it’s still raw, all the hurt from that, and now this scare, the brief moment when he was certain he’d lost cross again, it just tore the barely healing wound wide open and killer just

anyways killer nursing cross back to health from a minor concussion and then being very very protective and clingy and in turn, cross makes sure to THOROUGHLY check their surroundings when they set up camp and weeping sobbing i keep just thinking about killer having nightmares about it and it’s like

it’s not the first time they’d been attacked or wound up in a fight; it was rare, but it wasn’t the first time, but like.

it was different this time

OUGHHH HOLY SHIT FUCK MAN

SO REAL ACTUALLY

I’m obsessed with that actually ough ough

Just the. Whole thing with the distance arc making killer that much more desperate and worried about losing cross. again too in a way HEAD IN HANDS

That whole scene gave me. Such a fucking vivid mental image ohhh my god dude augh augh

And the shear contrast between their reactions is tucking murdering me

OHH okay. Okay. Maybe killer even. After the first scare of Cross getting knocked out. Starts wandering away less. Like before he’s go off for hours or days doing his own thing in the city and like. Neither of them thought twice about it. And Killer generally had been fairly aloof the whole time up until then despite always coming back

But after that Killer starts doing it less and less. And starts leaving for shorter and shorter periods of time. And starts running ahead less, and. Ough man

cause he just. Is so fucking worried about what if he came back and Cross wasn’t there. And he couldn’t possibly bare that after the distance arc

so instead now he just clings to cross. Literally but mostly metaphorically. And cross notices but he doesn’t say anything. Cause he knows why he knows and in turn he clings to Killer

And just I feel like. They’re both reminded how fleeting everything really is

and maybe it’s not like that permanently like they’ll go back to some kind of normalcy but it’s not the same. Everything’s shifted and warped

Cause everything’s different now

#ANYWAY #IM SO UNWELL ABOUT THAT DUDE #holy shit man head in hands #/pos/pos #weeping weeping sobbing #answering asks #chair asks #chair!!#apocalyptic Kross au #“It was different this time” weeping wailing

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cyb-by-lang · 9 months

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I kinda already commented and it felt weird to do it again? So I thought I’d ask here instead:

I just saw a post on tumblr that Batman did try to kill Joker and Superman stopped him??? And it was because Joker was somehow linked with Iran, and couldn’t be killed cuz it would start a war. And other Batkids also tried to kill Joker???

I’ve honestly always thought Batman didn’t kill Joker cuz he’s too popular a villain so it was just sort of waved off because of ‘Batman rules’ and publication reasons.

Is Batman almost killing Joker included in your fic? I have very little knowledge of the comics and hearing about newer versions overwriting previous stories makes me even more confused.

Congrats to you for having unlocked a secret level of rambling through deciding to send an ask rather than a comment. This would totally have ended up on AO3 below your comment. :p

And it is going below the cut because it's long as hell.

The scenario you've heard about was from the original run of A Death in the Family, which is the story arc where Jason was killed back in the 80s. In the aftermath of Bruce finding Jason dead (and Jason's birth mother dying shortly thereafter), he hunts for the Joker after realizing that the warehouse explosion didn't, in fact, kill the clown. Somehow (racism!) the Joker ends up being appointed as the Iranian ambassador to the UN. This was later retconned to the fictional country of Qurac, because even DC realized that was a step too far. In the scene after that fun little reveal, Superman is on hand to try and keep shenanigans to a minimum, the Joker predictably tries to gas the entire UN assembly chamber anyway, and then flees via helicopter. Batman, who has been trailing along this entire time in a rage, pursues.

He's planning to kill the clown. Superman, for reasons related to "we don't whack ambassadors and start wars," has been holding him back for the arc thus far. Helicopter pursuit turns into a helicopter fight, during which the Joker's henchman fires a spray of bullets that kills the pilot while everyone is on board and having a bad time. Batman exits the aircraft alive, intact, and furious, and doesn't give a single shit if the Joker died when the chopper hit the sea.

And then a month later the fucking clown comes back again like nothing happened. Only the entire setting has undergone a serious tone shift since Jason's death, which means you're gonna see a lot heavier, dramatic stories that have more significant body counts. Batman cannot get over the death of his son, because no, and eventually Tim Drake pops up in the middle of that death spiral with a hypothesis: "Batman needs a Robin."

He's not wrong.

He also doesn't go about it super gracefully, including an attempt to convince Dick to come back to the Robin mantle that goes nowhere, but eventually he convinces the Dark Knight to take on a third Robin. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim is locked the fuck down for training and not allowed out in the field willy-nilly. And when he does go out, he is ferociously competent.

Incidentally, this is because the writers/editors realized that after the child murder storyline they'd just done, Batman had to have one hell of a reason to ever take on another kid sidekick. And they needed to try and drag the Robin role's popularity back up, since killing a kid sidekick was also a symptom of DC's tanking sales at the time; the whole thing was ultimately a publicity stunt. It was a bad idea and now we just live with it.

So Tim is, broadly, never portrayed as incompetent in any aspect aside from maybe high school socializing. I don't think he gets kidnapped even a tenth of the number of times Dick did during his decades-long career as Robin. Certainly never falls for a honey trap plot or anything like that.

But yeah, the meta reason why the Joker never dies is because he's an iconic villain who drives plots. But unless you step out of the main continuity, he's also never just been a "no-frills funny" villain since.

ANYWAY.

As far as the rest of the Batfam taking a swing at the Joker, there's one incident that I can recall off the top of my head.

Dick Grayson, currently Nightwing, wasn't especially close to Jason while he was alive. During Jason's original run, they had a cordial (if brief) relationship, but they basically didn't get any storylines together, so it's hard to really tell how strongly they bonded. After Jason died, Dick began experiencing...I wanna call them chronic night terrors. The idea is that a boy in a Robin costume is falling, and falling, and Dick can never save the kid.

I'm sure it has nothing whatsoever to do with his dead brother, no sir.

So, some time later, the Joker gets told he has terminal cancer by a psychiatrist who assumes that if the clown was convinced he was going to die, he might try reforming or something. A terminal turnaround. Lots of people do that, right?

He assumed wrong.

The Joker goes on an utter tear, doing all sorts of escalating villainy that starts with gassing everyone he can get his hands on, including other Arkham inmates. Somewhere amid this rampage, Robin III goes missing and the Joker cheerfully tells Nightwing that yeah, he killed the kid. And he has the gall to bring up Jason in the middle of all the gloating. By name. (The Joker knows Jason's name due to some nonsense involving Crane and Fear Toxin hallucinations and Batman in a prior story arc.)

And Dick

fucking

SNAPS.

Pummels the Joker right there on the floor. Barehanded. No sticks, no pausing, just beats him to death.

Two seconds later, a very alive (if hurt) Tim manages to get there and go "oh god what happened." Because Dick is not doing well! He has a crisis about killing a dude, no matter how terrible. He never thought he'd go that far.

Batman swoops in and resuscitates the clown. In the time between Jason's death and The Joker's Last Laugh, he has apparently decided that it's more important to keep Dick from suffering a breakdown than it is to kill the clown. DC editorial was gonna keep him alive either way, but whatever.

And now for the third part of my ramble.

As for Under the Red Hood, Jason's death is seriously streamlined for the film. In this version of events, none of the UN chicanery happens. Ra's al Ghul hires the clown for a distraction job while trying to crash the world economy (again) and whoops, the clown killed Batman's son. Crowbar, bomb, whatever. Before Jason's body can be buried, the League of Assassins steals it, hucks Jason into the Lazarus Pit, and now he's alive again!

Except, given how he died and how long he spent dead and how that interacts with the magic, he wakes up as a berserk ball of rage and pain, kills two of Ra's al Ghul's guards with his bare hands, escapes, falls into a river, and disappears.

...So much for making that whole thing up to Batman. The League of Assassins just quietly lets Bruce bury a latex dummy and doesn't ever bring it up.

Cut to Gotham, years later, when Red Hood is tearing up the place and Batman goes "Ra's al Ghul, what the fuck" and the whole story comes spilling out.

In A Ninja's Guide to Gotham, Jason's dropped hints in his narration that he was actually with the League of Assassins for a while, even before going 'round the world training with assassins and stuff. The Lazarus Pit just got him back to full functionality. So, you can assume it leans more on the comics' "spontaneous resurrection" scenario.

If Bruce ever tried to kill the Joker while Jason was dead, Jason doesn't know about it. And because we haven't been in Bruce's head, there's no indication either way.

(Bruce makes mention of how easy it would be kill the Joker in the film, but that he could never come back from doing so. It is not specified if he made the attempt or just thought about it a lot.)

I've been holding back on Jason's and Bruce's accounts of events because they're both owed a moment of dramatic catharsis (and shouting). You can generally rest assured that it'll be more likely to be a mix of events than a pure account of any one take on what happened in the warehouse that day.

Thanks for setting off an exposition bomb~

#a ninja's guide to gotham #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #tim drake #asks #anonymous #comics are weird #so weird that there's not really a simple answer for a lot of things #tl;dr: none of the POV characters so far know the truth

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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Hii, can you write some dating headcanons of Stevie? Nobody writes about him 😭

hello, and yes! ik on my masterlist/characters I write for I have it as platonic only but most of these could be read as platonic if you're older, I kept the more romantic ones at the bottom if that's cool so yeah 👍 I kept him & ruben as such bx I'm a little too old for them and I see them as like babies compared to me so yeah 💀 but I got you dw lol

STEVIE ; dating/platonic headcanons

warnings ; language, talk of familial abuse & neglect, alcohol, substances, use of f-slur (I can say it guys PLEASE)

masterlist

protecting him on the streets is a must

he's newer to this skating shit and "running around with thugs"

if he can't go home for whatever reason, he's got a home at your place or on the couch at motorz

ray locks you guys in and you're good for the night, he just can't give you the keys cause he doesn't wanna get fired

he vents to you whenever he needs to

at a point he gets all "wannabe hard boy" and shoves you away while he becomes a fucking hard-core alcoholic

"Dude, what the fuck did I do to deserve being shoved away?"

"Go away! Don't you ever fucking listen? Shut the fuck up! You're just like my mom!"

damn okay moody ass bitch

you stay up at night thinking about how you thought you were grateful for the whole 'fuckshit wrecking the car' thing because it changed both him, ruben, and fuckshit (and their relationships) for the better

for a while he forces you to just let him watch you skate and stuff because he's super unmotivated too and doesn't wanna spiral like before

but in time, he warms back up to it

he's the one borrowing your clothes tbh

the only thing you ever touch of his are hats that you steal to tease him

you put stickers on his forehead 24/7

romantic stuff below!

putting random braids in his hair for no reason in private

he's scared he'll be called a fag or smthn but yk he won't

he just has a touchy partner , it's normal lol

your relationship is purely wholesome, yall r like 13 so chill

nothing happened between him n estee either bc wtf was that scene jonah

you hand him a mixtape before you leave to go home titled "for stevie <3" and when I tell you he crumbled when he accepted that he was finally learning that he could trust you and let you in

like his family issues always had him fucked up but Ray was like "Dude that's not pussy shit??? they really like you, man"

he just sat there for a moment like "omg holy shit this isn't just some fake shit that'll last a month tops they actually give a shit"

he listens to it when he's skating alone and shit

always reminds to kiss from a rose or wonderwall

he learns a lot from you and takes it to heart, like he learns to just be a normal, functioning person in society and how to behave and act and shit

like he hasn't had anyone to rlly be there to correct his mistakes or beat his ass til you LMAO

like he learns actual life skills and shit from you like how to write checks and and how long to boil noodles it's honestly sad

mostly the hug-you-from-behind kinda guy bc he's still learning how to show his love and shit

gives you puppy dog eyes without even knowing it

he's just so mesmerized by you sometimes

idk this is all I got

#lowkeyrobin #mid90s x reader #mid90s #stevie x reader #stevie mid90s #sunny suljic #dating headcanons #mid90s oneshot #mid90s imagine #90s #skater

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noya-noya-noya · 5 months

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one of my favorite things about the whole buddie dynamics is the fact that while Buck is healing and beginning to choose himself (armchair scene) there's still a part of him that thinks he's only going to get love by risking his life, and that his life IS expendable. an "if I die, that's fine, but i sure would be sad if someone else dies" mentality.

it reminds me of that one line in inochi no kirawareteiru "Frankly, we don't care a bit if we, ourselves died but we'd be pretty said if the people around us died".

and Eddie... Eddie has been assuring him consistently that he is cherished, he is important, and he gets him out of his head when he's starting to spiral.

1...

Buck: I just, I wish I could- Eddie: Fix it? Buck: Yeah, yeah. I know I'm the guy who always wants to fix everything. Eddie: Hey! It comes in handy when you have a bunch of holes in your wall.

2...

Buck: They never wanted another kid. They just had me for parts. Defective parts, as it turned out.

Eddie: Hey, that's not on you.

3...

Eddie: I'd eat a couple extra slices. You look like you're wasting away to nothing.

Buck: Eddie--

Eddie:I will say, honestly, you being laid up is working out for me. I mean, you're no abuela, and you're half a Carla, but you'll do in a pinch.

Buck: You want me to watch Christopher?

Eddie: It's easy. He's not very fast.

Buck: After everything that happened?

Eddie: A natural disaster happened, Buck.

Buck: I lost him, Eddie.

Eddie: No, You saved him. That's how he remembers it. And now, it's his turn to do the same for you.

Buck: I was supposed to look out for him.

Eddie: And what, you think you failed? I failed that kid more times than I care to count, and I'm his father. But I love him enough to never stop trying, and I know you do too.

Eddie: Buck...there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.

Eddie: Thank you for not giving up

4...

Eddie: Are you hurt? (shooting scene)

5...

Buck: Now, listen, I had an entire fire truck fall on my leg, and hey, look at me now.

Eddie: *shakes his head*

Carson: That sounds horrible.

Buck: No, horrible was the blood clots you get after. Mine was in my lung. I was coughing up blood. And they put you on these blood thinners and...

Eddie: Buck.

(I always saw this as Eddie shaking his head because Buck was making fun of what happened to him and not because Buck might scare Carson because Carson wasn't really that scared anymore at that time)

6...

Bobby and Buck arrives at the firehouse, Eddie is alone and opens his arms, waiting to hear the news.

Bobby: Clean bill of health from the docs.

Eddie: Glad to hear it.

Eddie: Show-off.

Buck: I had to do it.

Eddie: No, I know you did.

7...

Doctor: We'll do our best.

Eddie: Do more!

and of course 8...

Eddie: Because, Evan you came in here the other day and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot. You act like you are expendable, but you’re wrong.

there's probably a lot more but these are the top ones that I can think of.

i think for someone who lived their whole life looking for purpose (and somehow putting themself in harm's way is something they are accustomed to do) and having someone who has their back, defending them not just from others but their own mind as well, consistently, is a match incomparable.

#i cant think of what their love languages are but theres something there my brain just cant do it right now #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie brainrot is strong yet again #evan buckley #911 on fox #looks like im on tumblr to be a buddie analyser i do not like it #im just saying #buck and eddie love each other but in different ways #make it happen abc

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s1ater · 2 years

Text

spiraling.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

about. bellamy saves your ass, again.

warnings. foul language, murder

ricky rocks. follow me lol, i’m cool

“what’s wrong?” you were drawn away from your thoughts, glancing to raven. her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel of the rover while looking to you in a slightly anxious manner. “you haven’t spoken the whole ride.”

kane had gotten a call about twenty minutes ago about there being a breach and half the guard team was already gone. there was no one to cover the call except you.

“i got this,” you were already slinging on your guard jacket before kane could say anything, he had never intended on you hearing the beep in but there you were with your eager eyes and ease dropping ears.

he frowned, shaking his head, “no, it’s too dangerous out there.”

you looked at kane dumbfounded, your frown curving deeper into your cheeks making you look older and increasing the darkness within your features, “i can handle myself out there.”

he knew you could, he wasn’t worry about that. kane was more concerned about reasons he wasn’t about to speak aloud, especially to your face in fear of risking setting you off.

“you’re not going.”

“kane,” you gave him a pointed look, shoving your gun in the loop of your belt. you continued to defy him, causing his stomach to wrench up, he didn’t want to yell at you. “i can handle myself out there.”

“if you go,” he began to slowly cave from his original statement, leaning against the metal table separating the two of you, “i want someone out there with you.”

“bellamy isn’t here.”

bellamy was always your scout partner when either one of you were sent out of arkadia to scope out whatever needed to be scoped out. both of you would have been well enough without one another but it was always nice to have company, especially company like bellamy’s.

“you’re going with me, sweetheart,” raven appeared out of nowhere, patting your back as she begun to climb in the driver seat of the rover with a slight struggle due to her leg.

you almost resisted the urge to clench your jaw too hard. you loved raven but you would have really preferred to take this trip alone, especially after what had happened last time; you were with miller, completely throwing you off due to him having a completely different style when it came to scouting arkadia outer grounds than bellamy.

bad things happened.

“bellamy?” you had turned head rather fast, now holding eye contact with the hazel eyed girl, her nervousness had eased off as if coming to the conclusion to your quietness.

“what?” “you'd rather be with bellamy, right?” “i’d rather be by myself,” you grumbled, sulking deeper into the passenger seat. you felt guilty for doing so, raven had nothing to do with your own problems but you really would rather be alone with how everyone had been treating you recently.

“too bad.”

once you had arrived upon the breach you had gotten out of the car rather fast with your hand clutching the hand gun looped with your belt tightly, making it hard for raven to keep up, seeing the determination within your steps.

“slow down, cowgirl,” she yelled after you, almost tripping multiple times as she tried to increase her pace. “there’s no rush.”

“this is ice nations sector, reyes,” you called back, “there is no time to slow down.”

you broke through a large section of trees and branches soon revealing a scene that took you by surprise. it made you raise your gun just as quick as you had gasped.. and soon raven ended up in the same position of surprisal.

before the two of you, bellamy and octavia were knocked out propped up against a tree tied together while a man who’s face was painted white pointed his staff toward you in threat. you kept your composure at the sight with your gun still held in height of his head.

“don’t shoot.”

“you’re not helping.”

“y/n, don’t. don’t do something dumb,” her voice rang through your ears and you suddenly felt hot and your head felt light with pressure spiking, making the rest of your body feel numb. “y/n?”

“reyes, go.”

“you’re about to do something you’re going to regret.”

your vision cleared and became leveled with a man from trikru. his smile was strange and split and made your head spin with uncomfortableness.

he had you surrounded. you and miller.

“you’re not going to shoot me.”

“try me,” you narrowed your brows as you looked between him and to the men next to him, as you were sure miller was doing the same but to the men he was facing. the two of you were back to back, guns raised high in defense.

“we don’t mean any harm,” miller’s voice butts in and he tries to reason as his voice calls to the man you were talking to. you clenched your jaw, miller was almost making you both look foolish. “just let us go.”

“oh i’ll let you go. it’s her that’s gotta stay.”

“i’ll shoot you.”

“those are some powerful words,” he shifts towards you and you’re quick to cock the gun. he flinches but smiles as he still makes small movements toward you till you just… shot him, setting off a chain reaction of the rest of the men launching toward you.

and bang, bang, bang—three more bodies dead on the ground with your simple aim and no hesitation.

miller only injured the other two with a look on his face that you wouldn’t forget. he looked at you with an almost petrified expression—one that read he couldn’t believe what you had just done.

“we need to go.”

you were being shaken lightly until your eyes pealed open fast, meeting the feeling of bellamy’s hand lightly holding your face with an urgent look on his own, looking all around before back to your face, “c’mon, get up, kid. we’ve got to go.”

he pulls you to your feet fast where raven and octavia are already hauling it to the rover and the man from ice nation laid on the ground, dead.

“please tell me that wasn’t me.”

“don’t worry,” bellamy gripped your arm while pushing you to go faster toward the rover. right before the man knocked octavia and him out, it wasn’t just him, there was at least two more. they must have gone scavenging, leaving that man to himself, which in hindsight wasn’t smart at all to leave one against two.

“you passed out,” raven looked back to you from her position in the drivers seat. “i think you’re under a lot of stress.”

no kidding.

you glanced to bellamy who was already looking to you and you half expected him to lecture you, like he always did, especially with the look on his face. he was always so adamant with keeping yourself stable, to take breaks, and make sure you were always alright—especially when situations got tough. but right now he didn’t, he kept his mouth shut.

you and bellamy were very similar. he knew it too and it scared him, because he didn’t want any of the things that ran through his mind, going through your own. you were both very self destructive and that wasn’t something he realized until mount weather—a point in time where he learned a lot about you.

“what’re we going to do?” octavia looked to raven who was still breathless, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

she could barely think straight without her mind straying to ten minutes before, “we go to kane, we tell him what happened and we continue on with our day. this isn’t the first time irrational decisions have gotten the best of us.”

she resisted looking at you, but she didn’t have to in order for you to know she was halfway referring to you.

you tipped your head back in despair, wishing you could redo the past month.

* *

“explain to me how a scouting mission ends up with someone dead,” you bit your tongue, already feeling a harsh lecture coming as kane stared at raven gingerly who was barely keeping her composure. she was very fiery whenever it came to discussions like this and defending her own, but the dead body must have thrown her off.

“listen, bellamy and octavia were both in danger-“

“doesn’t give us a right to kill ice nation’s people. our pact with them is barely hanging on by a thread.”

“we didn’t mean for this to happen, kane,” you spoke, defending raven from the rouse he was pressuring her with, but you instantly regretted it when he looks to you, like he hadn’t even noticed you yet.

“you killed four grounders, y/n. you understand that right? and now you go and kill someone apart of ice nation. do you understand what that does to us?” kane’s expression and words catch you off gaurd and causes your chest to tighten. he was never someone you expected to be so jarring. he had been giving you the benefit of the doubt for the past month, so seeing him snap so fast took you aback. “you’ve become unhinged. you don’t think straight anymore.”

“she didn’t kill him,” bellamy takes a step in front of you out of instinct.

“then who did?” he raises his voice, “because i’m looking between all four of you right now and only one of you is coming out as a valid option.”

“it was all three of us,” octavia speaks, “y/n, got knocked out before she could do anything. like you said, she hasn’t been thinking straight lately because she’s been under a lot of pressure.”

you could tell kane didn’t believe a word she said by the way he paused, clenching his jaw. it was looking like they were only trying to cover for you right now, and you couldn’t blame him.

“i can’t deal with this right now, we’ll talk about this later.”

* *

“he’s going to kick me from camp.”

you sat on bellamy’s bed as he begun to change from his disoriented attire from earlier that day. after abby had patched him up from the gash he had on the side of his head and made sure you were still doing alright, you both begun to talk about the past month, essentially leading back to kane.

you felt you hadn’t seen bellamy in forever, and it was practically true due to kane setting you both up with different guard partners and assigning you both to tasks at different times for the past five weeks. hence, how you got mixed up with miller in the first place.

it was almost as if it was purposeful…

“he’s not going to kick you from camp.”

“he has no reason not to.”

“y/n, why would he?”

“i killed people, bellamy,” you looked at him, dumbfounded. “for no reason.”

“for good reason,” he corrected you, now kneeling before you. “kane is under a lot of pressure right now, and what happened to you didn’t help. he’s worried about a lot of things, and he doesn’t want to worry about you.”

“he said i’m unhinged.”

“we all are,” he squeezed your knee, getting back to his feet. “you need to stop worrying. you did nothing wrong today.”

“what do you think he’s going to say later?” you questioned.

“stop worrying, princess,” he gave you a pointed look. “what’s the worse that can happen?”

* *

“i don’t want either of you to be partners, you’re both bad for each other. i’ve realized that now for the past two months,” kane folded his hands, delivering the worse news before you and bellamy. “y/n, i was in between full suspension and five week suspension from your position, it’s up to you.”

you looked a kane with narrowed brows, completely dumbfounded and not knowing what to say. you should have seen it coming, he had been preparing the two of you for this by scheduling you both different times and you felt like a fool for not realizing it till now.

“kane, that is irrational,” bellamy shook his head, “we’re both your best and you’re going to risk it over her messing up once. i can hardly see how we’re bad for each other, when we get things done better than any one else on the guard.”

“once is enough.”

you frowned hard, “the only reason i messed up was because i was with miller. because you scheduled me with him. bellamy is not the reason i shot trikru. miller just threw me off because i’m not used to the way he clears.”

kane shook his head, “you shouldn’t be like that. you’re a guard, y/n, you should be prepared for anything, not ‘thrown off’ just because miller runs a totally different route than you and bellamy.”

you couldn’t believe him, “you can’t be serious. kane, you have my answer, you can implement a full suspension.. or whatever,” you rolled your eyes, getting to your feet but bellamy’s quick to pull you back down in your seat.

“she gets a different partner or full suspension, you can expect the same thing from me,” he pressed his lips into a thin line knowing kane wouldn’t accept that. bellamy was the best they had, and without him, the ark would most likely fail.

“you can’t do that,” kane shakes his head, “bellamy.”

“then you fix this,” he still held your wrist as he spoke with a stern tone, “you suspend her five weeks, but you keep her as my partner, you schedule us same time like how it used to be. otherwise you lose the both of us.”

bellamy didn’t understand how kane didn’t realize that you were only under the right mindset when with him. you were irrational with unfamiliarity, its something about that, that freaked you out, but with bellamy, there was a level of control and focus that he could only bring.

kane looked hesitant, glancing between the two of you before focusing on bellamy, “you keep her tame then.”

a deal was made. you were kept partners with bellamy but you still couldn’t help but be angered by the way they spoke like you weren’t there. you were happy with the outcome and you were sure the only reason it happened was because bellamy did all the talking.

“you owe me.”

you rolled your eyes, “you did yourself a favor.”

bellamy scoffed, his eyebrow curving, “really?”

“you know you couldn’t survive a day without me on the job.”

“funny,” he shook his head, “because i was thinking the same thing about you.”

you smiled, but hesitated, “thank you. you saved my ass, again.”

“you’re good, you just owe me,” he winked, “now get ready for your shift.”

navigation.

#bob morely #bellarke #bellamy x clarke #bellamy blake oneshot #bellamy blake angst #the 100 bellamy #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x reader #the 100 x reader #lexa the 100 #the 100 imagine #clark griffin #octavia blake #raven reyes #jasper jordan #bellamy blake #fanfic #angst

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analogwriting · 5 months

Text

It Comes in Waves

Chapter 16: Shoaling Trafalgar Law x gn!reader word count: 2.5k first|next

“Alright, alright. That’s enough,” Law finally said. Everyone pulled away, dispersing slightly. Bepo, being his usual self, apologized for his actions. You smiled, shaking your head. “Don’t say sorry, it’s not your mistake. You were just excited.” You felt Law stare at you - as he always did when you said those words. You wondered if he remembered you saying them to him all those years ago and that’s why he always looked at you the way he did as you said them.

“We should head to Catviper’s now!” You looked to Bepo, blinking. “Who?” Bepo looked at you with a smile. “Catviper! He is one of the kings of this island. It is approaching nightfall, so he will be awake soon.” You looked to Law who only shrugged. “Let’s go then,” he said.

Soon, you were on your way. Bepo filled you both in on what happened to the island - why it looked so devastated. Such a peaceful and happy island filled with pain and suffering just because some pirates were delusional in their own beliefs. It brought your mind to your own island. How it was destroyed because of one pirate’s delusions. Even if they did turn out to be true.

You felt a hand to the small of your back and you were yanked from your thoughts. You looked over, seeing Law. He was looking straight ahead, listening to Bepo, but it seemed as if he knew you were spiraling in your own mind and was trying to stop you. He removed his hand from you once you seemed to be back in the present but you still felt warm from where his hand had sat.

Eventually, you heard a commotion and everyone started running. Once you broke the treeline, you saw…quite the scene. You saw a large cat along with some other minks. It seemed they were all fretting over him. You heard Chopper’s voice ring through the air and you felt a pang of guilt. You had snuck out on him when you were supposed to be in his care. You owed him an apology.

“Traffy! Y/n!” Luffy’s voice suddenly rang through the air and you saw his figure waving at you. You smiled, returning the wave.

“Traffy, are those your crewmates?”

That’s right. This is my crew - twenty strong.” The rest of the crew chimed it. “Nice to make your acquaintance Strawhat!” Luffy nodded, holding a hand up in greeting. “Yo!”

Law walked over, beckoning you with him. “Strawhat, we need to talk.”

“Okay!”

The Heart Pirates seemed suddenly offended. “Is that all? The disrespect!” They all kept chiming. Law groaned. “It’s just an alliance - no one said you had to be friends!” You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at the crew apologetically. “I’m sure you all will get along fine.”

Bepo hugged you. “At least Y/n doesn’t disrespect us,” he said, rubbing his face on yours. You laughed, pushing him off slightly. “Okay, okay. I have to go, Bepo. But, I promise, Luffy doesn’t mean any disrespect. He doesn’t have anything to hate you for.”

Once out of the clutches of the polar bear, you headed inside. “About time, y/n.” You narrowed your eyes at Law. “Well, someone had to comfort your crew.” He narrowed his eyes right back at you. Then you both broke out into small grins before turning your attention back to the situation at hand.

Then Luffy dropped a bomb on you. You stood there - eyes wide in shock. Sanji was gone? You listen as he filled you in. You remember when you first met the cook. It was after Luffy had saved your life. He had offered to make you lunch and you both had a wonderful discussion about food. You remember introducing him to some of your native dishes from your island. They were recipes he had never heard of.

Ever since then, whenever you’d meet up with them, you would teach him some new dishes and recipes. It was your little bonding moment. You had those moments with each member of the crew.

“That’s why I think we should wait for the whole Kaido thing so I can go and get Sanji! We can’t do it without him!” Luffy frowned deeply. You knew how much he cared for his cook. He was wholly convinced that he wouldn’t be king of the pirates without him. He knew he was nothing without his crew. You respected him a lot for that.

“Well, we’re sitting ducks here. Kaido will come after us. We would’ve been able to hold out here, but it seems that they already know that we’re here. So, what are we supposed to do? If they come back, what’ll become of this country?” Law was making some pretty solid points. You didn’t want to get the innocent citizens of this island more involved than they already were. You felt bad for them - they had been through so much.

You suddenly heard cries from right outside the house and you jumped. When had all those minks gotten there? “You guys have such good hearts for worrying about us!”, “Are you sure you’re pirates?” You snorted softly. You wondered the same sometimes. Luffy had such a big heart - he wasn’t a normal pirate, that much was for sure. It seemed that Law was more like Luffy than he would probably like to admit. A couple of oddballs for pirates, that’s for sure.

“Let’s have a feast!” Catvipe suddenly announced. You blinked as everyone started cheering all of a sudden. They really were moving fast. One moment, you were talking about Sanji; the next, cheering about a feast. Luckily, it wouldn’t be until tomorrow, so you had time to recuperate.

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened, but you were currently in the middle of town, watching as Catviper and Dogstorm bow down to the sobbing child that you’ve been around since Punk Hazard, Momonosuke. What was happening?

He was a lord? In Wano? Your head was reeling and now you watched as Kin’emon explained very quickly. Everything happened all at once and now there was a ceasefire between the two kings and so much information was just revealed to you. Your own head was spinning.

“Momonosuke, if your father is a great lord,” you heard Nami begin, “then he must have a big castle with lots of treasure.”

“Don’t you dare!” you found yourself yelling with Usopp and Zoro. You couldn’t believe the audacity of her sometimes, but that’s also what made her Nami.

Once that excitement was over, you were tagging along with everyone to the giant whale tree. This day had been full of events and you were absolutely wiped. Too much excitement. This is why you only spent so much time with Luffy. He attracted so much attention - way more than you were used to. You could only take so much at a time…and you were way past your limit. What was even more was that you didn’t see this ending anytime soon. You needed to help with Sanji and seemed to silently agree to take down Kaido.

You felt someone tap your head, yanking you from your thoughts. You looked over, seeing Law adjusting his sword back on his shoulder. How did he always know? You rubbed your head a little. “Was it too hard?” You looked at him, shaking your head. “Ah, no. Just startled,” you said.

Your group made its way into the whale. In its depths you saw someone tied and chained up. This was the ninja that everyone had been so excited to see. Watching Luffy and the other’s physically deflate was almost enough to make you laugh. You even noticed a little bit of disappointment in Law’s eyes.

They started demanding he do “cool ninja stuff” and you watched as he shattered their dreams - telling them it’s not a parlor trick. They deflated further only for Raizo to begin to do just that, showing off his ninja moves like a parlor trick. Everyone started cheering and overall in awe. This was honestly the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

“Didn’t take you as a ninja fan,” you teased in a low voice, coming up next to Law. He looked at you with narrowed eyes. “Everyone is a ninja fan.” You grinned, shrugging. You weren’t going to lie - it absolutely was awesome seeing a real ninja in person. “You’re not wrong,” you mused before looking at him again. “Just didn’t expect you to be a secret nerd. Next you’re gonna tell me you collect comic books.” He was silent and hid under his hat - your eyes widened.

“YOU D-” He moved fast, his hand suddenly clamping over your mouth before you could draw too much attention to the two of you. Your eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t even,” he said in a dangerously low voice. You felt a shiver down your spine as you looked at him in those golden eyes of his. You were suddenly very aware of just how your bodies pressed together. You felt your heart race, but you pushed it all aside - letting out a giggle.

“Okay, okay,” you said, pushing his hand from your mouth. You grinned widely. “You’ll have to show me this collection of yours. What is it?” Law groaned, stepping away from you. “Not now,” he mumbled and you followed him. “Absolutely right now. You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that and expect me not to demand answers.” He turned around to glare at you once more and you just let out a wide, shit-eating grin.

You weren’t going to let him live this down and you could tell he knew that. The stoic grumpy doctor having a secret nerdy side? Charming, really. He groaned, turning his attention back to the situation at hand as you did the same. You would definitely be asking questions about it later.

You turned your attention back to the situation at hand, feeling eyes bore into the back of your head. Or the side. You looked over, noticing Nami’s face. Oh, if this wasn’t instant karma. Now, you wouldn’t hear the end of things.

Once more, information was absolutely flung at you. The history of the poneglyphs, where they were possibly located, information of Momonosuke’s father, Oden, and so much more. Your mind reeled again as you took in the information, but you had a mental note in your head when they mentioned Big Mom having one of the red poneglyphs. Looks like you’d be doing more than just saving Sanji there. You had also made the decision to go and assist Luffy in retrieving the cook.

It seemed everyone’s resolve to take down Kaido deepened as well. Everything seemed to be connected and connecting the more everyone spoke about it.

Suddenly, Kin’emon was bowing, begging Luffy and Law to help take down their current shogun in Wano and Kaido. You watched the scene fold in front of you. Luffy declined, making his crewmates protest, but you saw the look in his eye. “Hold on guys,” you tried, but your words fell on deaf ears. Then Luffy demanded that Momonosuke ask - to take the lead like he’s supposed to. A fond smile stretches across your face. You knew exactly what Luffy was trying to do even if the others couldn’t.

He even stopped the small lord from completely bowing to beg. Then, Luffy agreed to help. And just like that - a new alliance was formed. A sweet scene had unfolded and now a new alliance was created.

On the walk back, even more information was revealed to the group. It seemed that everyone had been more interconnected than you thought. It was insane how everything wove together almost perfectly. You were lost in thought when you heard a certain name that brought your attention back to the present.

Marco the Phoenix.

Your attention snapped back to Catviper who had mentioned going to look for him. You had been pretty close to Marco as well. He had patched you up plenty of times. He treated you like a younger sibling just as he did to most of his crew. You hadn’t seen him since the war and you’ll never forget the look he gave you that day. Your heart clenched.

You remembered hearing about the grudge war. You had been so worried about Marco since then. You wished you had went and sought him out but it just never worked out. Then they just disappeared. Hearing Catviper say he was alive and that he likely knew where he was - you felt relief in your chest. You let out a silent breath that you didn’t realize you had been holding.

After that, plans of what to do next were talked about. Some were going to Wano, Catviper was going to go find Marco, and the rest were going to save Sanji. Nami said she was going with Luffy. Brook and Chopper said they were going to. You spoke up. “I’m going too.” Luffy looked at you and blinked, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He knew he’d lose that battle.

Law, however, made a noise of surprise. You looked at him. “You got something to say, doc?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. You two started your own separate conversation. “I just don’t think you need to go.” Law shrugged.

“I-” You stared at him incredulously. Was he serious right now? “The hell am I going to do in Wano? I can’t just sit around while Luffy risks his life. I need to go and help.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You put your hands on your hips, not understanding what was happening right now.

“I don’t understand why you think you have any say in what I do. You’re not my captain.” He stared at you as you said those words. “You’re the one who said they’d join me if we met up again.”

“I said that I would if you asked. And as far as I know, you haven’t asked.” You glared at him and he pursed his lips for a moment. “And don’t bother asking now - that would be so unfair.” You said you’d join if he asked. The asking was a formality. If he asked, you wouldn’t have a choice but to say yes. He looked at you for a long moment. “You would lose me so fast,” you said in a low voice. “Shortest crew member time ever.” He clenched his jaw. You could tell he was pissed, but you didn’t care. You were never one who liked being told what to do and you weren’t about to let him start.

“If you think you can try to pull something - just don’t.” You warned.

Just then, the ground underneath you shifted drastically. You yelped as you stumbled, falling right into Law and both of you falling to the ground. It was like an earthquake but at a higher caliber. What the hell was going on?

#one piece #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #iciw #am fics

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andreafmn · 1 year

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Collision - Chapter 14

Word Count: 3.7K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

Chapter: 14/?

Warnings: more heartbreak, underage drinking, swearing, steamy scene (no smut)

A/N: I promise this is not turning into a Paul fanfic (although all my twilight stories need to have some connection to him cause he is one of my favorites). But reader is kind of going on a downward spiral for a bit. She'll come out way better at the end but there are three whole months unaccounted for in the books that I need to make up and I love angst, so. This chapter is a mess and so is reader.

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Chapter 14

There was an intricacy to breakups that (Y/N) had not yet grasped. She wanted to feel everything at once. Rid her memory of all things Cullen for once and all.

But this type of heartbreak wasn’t like the others. It consumed you bit by bit. Chipping away at your very soul until there was nothing left but the shell of a person. It was the kind of heartbreak people wrote songs about, poetry about, books about. The kind that is forever etched into your mind as the one that altered the chemical composition of your being. The one that becomes a checkpoint for your life – there is you before the heartbreak and the you afterward.

(Y/N) didn’t want to feel all of that. She needed her life to go on as if nothing had happened. Maybe this was the push she needed to go to med school. Maybe this was the reason she moved out of state and traveled. Maybe this was the point in her life where all the good things came.

Nothing works out as one wants.

She fell into a vicious cycle.

She would wake. She would go to work. She would come home. She would cry. She would sleep. Then, she would wake again.

And somehow a whole month had gone by.

She would wake. She would work. She would cry. She would sleep. Every. Single. Day.

At some point, (Y/N) was made aware of Bella Swan’s similar status. The poor girl had suffered the same fate she had. It made her think they had been cursed. If there were vampires and werewolves, witches and curses didn’t seem like such a fantastical idea anymore.

Maybe that’s what the two Cullen men had done to them. Cursed them with their love. Their bittersweet love.

One thing kept playing in (Y/N)’s head. Words Carlisle had used to make sure the wound never closed. 'Just like your father.’ That sentence had been carved into her skin, sending shivers down her spine each time she remembered it. He was right. She had been resolute in the idea of leaving everyone she loved behind for him. For a simple man that cared more about his reputation than her heart.

It made her think too much of Joshua Uley. She had been very young when he left. With the years the image of him started fading from her memory. First, she couldn’t remember his voice. Then, his face blurred. Finally, she could not even remember how it felt to be hugged by him.

She knew Sam resembled him the most in appearance. Their mother would often cry about how much he reminded her of him. But she always said (Y/N) had his eyes and his soul.

“If only you both could have met him when we fell in love,” Allison would cry to them – inebriation aiding to her woes. “My little (Y/N), your heart is just like his was. But I know you are stronger.”

The girl had never understood what her mother had meant. Until now. She felt she was all the bad parts of her father. She was going to abandon her family in a selfish search for a life that made sense to her. No longer could she recall the way her father would read her to sleep; how he would kiss her wounds after getting them clean and wrapped; how he celebrated each time she came home with an outstanding grade. Now all she could recall were the bad things he did. The way he acted when he would drink; how he would fight with her mother when he thought the kids weren’t listening; how he left his family without a second thought.

Glimpses of her childhood flooded her mind. Her brain nitpicking at the specific bad moments she felt identified with.

That particular Saturday one memory stood out. She remembered every time her father would get angry, specifically the thing he would do right after. In the entrance hallway closet, there was a floorboard that was loose. Inside, Joshua would store a collection of liquor bottles hidden from the eyes of his family. (Y/N) had once investigated the hiding place. At her young age, she had no idea what the liquids were, but she knew it made her father act out of the ordinary and be led by his emotions.

Maybe that was what she needed at the moment, she thought. There could not be any other reason for her brain to concoct that memory now - (Y/N) had not spared a thought for her father in over a decade. Maybe what she needed was the liquid that made everyone speak their mind, even if unwillingly. The bitter nectar that could make her father shift from anger to sadness, to disappointment in a matter of minutes. That’s what she needed. To feel everything at once and purge it all out of her system. Surely that was the way she would get over losing a life with Carlisle Cullen.

She was by herself that day. Her mother had pulled a double shift at work and would not be back until the early hours of the morning. So, she headed to the closet in hopes that she had been the only one to discover the secret hideout.

The door of the closet creaked as she swung it open, the sound hurting her ears. If someone else had been in the house, they would have most definitely heard it. The small room was unassuming. Good enough to store the thick jackets they would need for winter as well as some lighter ones for the rest of the year. Boxes were piled at the top on a shelf, and shoes and bags were thrown about on the floor.

Her eyes quickly were transfixed on the wooden board from the corner that slightly stuck out. To anyone else, it would simply look like it needed to be pushed down, but (Y/N) knew the reason it never was.

She had taken a flathead screwdriver and used that to jam it into the space between the floorboard and the emptiness underneath, prying the old plank open. And just like she had remembered, half a dozen bottles of an assortment of liquor bottles were strung on the floor. Most of them were halfway done, the others only a quarter of liquid was left in them.

(Y/N) lifted one that she recognized. The label reading vodka reminded her of the one and only time she had had alcohol in her system. A stupid weekend afternoon in her school where her roommate had decided to sneak in a bottle after Christmas break. She had brought it back from her home and had told everyone that her parents had allowed her to drink whilst she was home.

It had been reckless and stupid, and she had ended up puking all night, promising she would never drink again.

But she also remembered how it was the first time that she truly felt homesick. Well, she had always felt a bit homesick, but that was the first time she outwardly expressed it. For her – at that time, at least – emotions were too much of a distraction. They kept her from striving forward, doing whatever she had to do to earn the best education possible. And so, she repressed everything. Until she downed half the bottle of vodka her roommate had brought back.

So, she drank.

And she would continue to drink for the next two weeks during the times she was by herself. The next weekend, she paid a guy twenty bucks to get her enough bottles of vodka from the store to get her through the month. It was stupid and reckless, but that was exactly how she felt.

She hid the bottles under the same floorboard her father would. Sneaking around to take a small swig before she would go to bed; hiding a drink after she came home from work; spending the days she was alone drinking and crying.

The next Saturday after the first time she found the bottles was no different. (Y/N) took hold of two bottles, placing the wooden floorboard down just as she had found it. She did not want her mother to find anything awry, not even herself.

So, at two in the afternoon she started to drink.

The first swig of the bottle always went down roughly. It burned all the way from her throat until it hit her empty stomach. She knew the feeling would be almost instantaneous. Without any food in her system and no water intake, her head would be swaying after the third sip from the bottle.

She didn’t mind the burn. She welcomed the almost unbearable sting the alcohol left. It wasn’t as strong as she had remembered the drink to be, but it was good enough for its purpose. She would feel it all. She would fill the vast nothingness she felt inside. She would drink until she forgot.

Four hours and two bottles completely drained later, (Y/N) lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling as it spun around her. Tears fell from her eyes, but she didn’t necessarily feel like crying. They simply fell. She also felt tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. She was tired of feeling dread. She was tired of grieving. She was tired of yearning for something that would never be hers.

“Did you know you could actually die from heartbreak?” (Y/N) spoke to no one in particular. She was by herself. Completely alone. “It’s true. It’s called broken heart syndrome. It’s when a stressful event makes the body release a massive surge of adrenaline and noradrenaline causing the small arteries that supply blood to the heart to narrow, decreasing blood flow to the heart. It’s rare that someone would die from this. But it doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” she sighed for a pause and continued. “I never understood this until now. I questioned how anyone could care so much about something – someone – that their own body knows when that person hurts them. The heart becomes weaker when that person decides to trample all over it. Can you imagine? What would people say?!”

And then she laughed. She laughed until her stomach hurt. Because how stupid did she feel? Promising her future to someone so unpredictable, so volatile. Someone she had no idea existed until a few months before.

Then, she cried. Because she felt stupid. For considering abandoning her mother, and her brother. For considering spending eternity with someone that did not deserve it. Someone that had been so careless with her heart – with her love.

Her cries were so loud she did not hear the sound of the front door as it opened.

Paul had been walking down the street after coming back to Sam’s house after a useless patrol. The Cullens were gone, he had thought, what was the need to keep on the lookout? He was bored. Sure, he detested the bloodsuckers, but he liked the thrill of threatening them when they walked too close to the treaty line, the adrenaline that rushed through him as he rushed after one of them when he smelt them from afar, the dreaming that one day one of them would step out of line and he could sink his teeth into one of them. Now, it was no fun.

As he walked, he kicked a pebble down the street. There was only one person he wanted to spend time with, but she was slightly preoccupied with getting over one of the cold ones. To him it was easy. He was a man that could never give her the life she deserved. Someone who would simply bring her into a life of hiding, a life she wasn’t made for.

In Paul’s mind, (Y/N) was made for grandeur. She was meant to save people, to make a name for herself in the medical community. She was meant to make it out of their little town and move on to bigger, greater things.

What Carlisle had done was be a coward in Paul’s eyes. The man had it all. Money, power, a united family, and the best woman out there. He literally had it all. And threw it all away at the first sign of trouble. Paul knew his money wouldn’t suffer; he would always have his standing between his people; his family would follow him wherever he went. But (Y/N). (Y/N) was collateral damage to him. He had taken what he wanted and thrown her aside. If he hated the Cullens, this stuck the nail in the coffin.

It had been a month since he had spoken to her. A month and a half since he had seen her completely break down in front of him over a man that was not worth it. So many days had been robbed from them, their friendship. Days he could have used to rekindle their relationship, to transform it. So much time that had been stolen by Carlisle Cullen and his cowardly actions.

“If she’d give me a chance, I would make sure she knew how lucky I was to have her by my side,” Paul had said one night at the beach to Jared, babbling on as he normally did when speaking of (Y/N). “That bloodsucker has no idea what he’s let go of. Either way, she deserves so much better.”

“And that’s you?” Jared asked between laughs. “I don’t think I need to remind you, but she did choose him at some point in time. Even after your lousy attempt at swaying her to you.”

“I could be everything she didn’t know she needed.”

Paul grinned at the memory, the same way he had grinned that night because he truly believed his words.

In his reminiscence, Paul heard sobs. A heart-wrenching sound that he had grown to know. He’d heard it but a month ago, and he would hear it every night he walked by her window. It was a sound he wished he could erase from his memory and take from her repertoire.

Many times, he’d listened to her cry until she would fall asleep, never getting closer under direct orders from Sam. This was her heartbreak to navigate, Sam had told her. There is not much they could do about it.

But this time was different. Her cries were mixed with a sharp smell, one he could not tie to (Y/N), but one he remembered well from his times in high school. A dangerous weapon when in a state of sadness.

Paul walked up the creaky stairs of the porch, pressing his ear to the front door to confirm the cries that emanated from the other side. His hand checked the doorknob to find it unlocked, and without much preamble, he walked in.

(Y/N) was on the floor in the middle of the dark living room, clutching her chest and crying. Empty bottles of vodka surrounded the girl. The smell hit the wolf right away, burning his nostrils. It was a devastatingly heartbreaking scene.

“Why?” (Y/N) cried, not yet noticing Paul’s presence. “I f-fucking loved you.”

“(Y/N)?” Paul called out startling the inebriated girl. She sat up quickly and clutched her head as she clearly felt the wooziness from the alcohol. “What’re you doing?”

“W-why ‘r you here?” she slurred. “W-why?”

“I could hear and smell you from outside, (Y/N).” He was worried. Not only was he hurt to see his friend like that, but it surprised him to the lengths she was going to forget that Cullen man. It was reckless. “What’s going on,

“I’m a fucking mess, Paul.” She looked defeated. Completely and utterly defeated. “I-I wanna forget him. I wanna rip every piece of my skin he touched. I wanna incinerate every single memory I have of him. I wanna rid my body and my soul of anything I put his name on. I wanna fucking detest him.”

“This isn’t the way to do it, (Y/N). It’s barely six in the afternoon and you are drunk out of your mind. How long have you been like this?”

“Why do you care? I can do whatever I want,” she continued to slur her words. “I’m going to feel everything I need to feel and forget him. Forget he ever existed. Forget anything that he made me feel.”

(Y/N) crashed onto Paul’s chest as she continued to cry. Her emotions quickly flipped between anger and sorrow, unable to control the fast switch. She felt completely out of control, unable to moderate how her feelings came out. But it was better than feeling a suffocating nothing.

Just like the first night, she cried on Paul as he rubbed comforting circles on her back to calm her down.

“Tell me what I can do,” he whispered into her ear. “What can I do to help you through this, (Y/N)? I can’t stand to see you like this.”

She didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t much she was sure of those days. Still, she felt an overwhelming feeling creep into her. As she lifted her head and stared into Paul’s eyes, she couldn’t help but lean forward, crashing her lips onto his.

It was warm, she thought. Unbearably warm. The kiss was sloppy and unskilled, messy, and hungry. Maybe it wasn’t what she wanted but it was what she felt she needed at that moment. Because she needed to forget. And with just enough distractions she could maybe do just that. Forget.

(Y/N) moved her body until she was on top of Paul, straddling his lap. Her hands grasped at the short hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her. It made her whole body ignite with a fire she had not felt in a while. She craved physical touch, intimacy, and sexual desire. And Paul could give her that. She wanted to forget how comforting the cold had become to her. She wanted to be warm – burning hot. (Y/N) wanted the complete opposite of who and what Carlisle was.

She wanted more.

Her hands dropped to the hem of Paul’s white wifebeater, pulling it off his torso, then landing on his toned chest. She ran them through his muscles, her fingers tracing the Quileute tattoo that adorned his arm. She felt intoxicated by something stronger than the alcohol running through her body. Something that edged the bad decisions on, tempting her to let her intrusive thoughts win.

Feeling unsatisfied with how slow everything was going, (Y/N) dove her hands down as she kissed Paul’s jaw and neck, fumbling for the button on his pants. That was until Paul took hold of her shaking hands.

“What’re we doing here, (Y/N)?” He was breathing hard, unable to stabilize his breath properly. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m sober enough to make my own decisions,” she retorted. “Plus, they say to get over someone you should get under someone else. So, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“So I’m just your rebound.”

“Gods, Paul! When did you get so sentimental?” (Y/N) said exasperated. Getting up, she threw his shirt at his chest trying in any way to let out her frustration. “I thought this was something you wanted.”

“Not like this,” he said. His response was unnaturally soft. Paul could see how much (Y/N) was hurting, and as much as he wanted nothing more than to be this close to her in any way possible, he could not do it this way. “(Y/N), you’re drunk and emotional. I can’t do this when I know you’re not in your right headspace.”

“Why do you care where my head is? It’s just sex.”

“If tomorrow you feel the same way, then we can talk. But I simply can’t,” he responded. “I care too much about you to let you do something you might regret when you’re in this state. Let’s get you to bed, (Y/N). What you need is to sleep.”

“What if I went somewhere else to get what I want?” It was clear that she wanted to hurt him, push him to the edge until eventually, he broke. Her subconscious mind told her it was wrong. To manipulate his feelings this way was the worse thing she could do to someone she cared about so much. But her alcohol-subdued mind spat whatever it could to get what it wanted. “Maybe I’ll call up Jared. Maybe even Jake might jump at the request. I honestly could not care less.”

His eyes softened at her as she spewed those empty threats. Paul knew where they were coming from a place of pain and need. Even if they did hurt him, he understood that this (Y/N) was not the one he loved. She was a mask put on to hide her true feelings.

“Look, (Y/N). I would bring down the fucking moon for you if you asked,” he whispered as he closed the distance between them. His hands landed softly on both sides of her face, shifting her lowered gaze to meet his. “If you want to go sleep with the first guy you see, that’s your prerogative. But I can’t let you do that when your decisions are being made when you are absolutely fucked up. As your best friend, I won’t allow it.”

(Y/N) stared into Paul’s eyes, defeat slowly taking over. He was right. Completely right.

Then, the waterworks came once more.

“I just want it to stop,” she cried. “I want to get over him. I want to go on as if nothing ever happened because it hurts. It hurts so fucking much.”

“I know,” he said. “And it will keep hurting for some time, but this is not the way to do it.”

“It’s a way,” she whispered. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s get you to bed and we can try and talk tomorrow. How about that?”

Finally giving up, (Y/N) allowed Paul to guide her to her room. She snuggled herself into bed as Paul set a glass of water and two aspirins on the bedside table. It was a nurturing side to Paul she had not seen before, or simply had not noticed. He cared for her just like she had cared for him when they were little.

“Make sure you drink this as soon as you wake up.” She nodded in response. Too tired to talk anymore. “And, (Y/N). Don’t make any bad decisions while I’m not around.”

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