#i need to lie down no joke this moment has haunted me for a whole day i havent been able to do anything else but think about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esta-elavaris · 5 months

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Nobody Knows

Okay, starting things off with something I wrote back in 2015 for my first creative writing class at uni. It's a short horror story, the assignment was literally just "write a short story with roughly 1.5k words" bc they were great with giving us serious freedom to write what we wanted to write, and this was what I came up with. I think it was the first 'serious' original short story I wrote, I was 18/19 at the time (so, disclaimer on that score if you're going to compare it to the stuff I'm posting now at almost-27 lolol), so the quality will probably reflect that, but it has sentimental value and a bit of other meaning to me, so I'm posting it as is. Definitely a "look at what I dredged up from the archives" kinda thing rather than a "wow isn't this great?" kinda thing.

I remember I went into that first semester, looked at the people in the class around me and just thought "oh god, I am so fucking out of my league here" -- but then, three months later, my course leader (who ended up being my personal tutor in the years that followed, and my favourite teacher across my whole degree) really enjoyed it and his very kind feedback resulted in the moment where I stopped and thought "man, maybe I actually have something going with my writing". It also ended up in my uni's Eng Lit magazine, which I still have a copy of for archival purposes ✨

Plus, if I reread it too closely to edit it to the quality I like to think I can produce now, I will end up convincing myself not to post it 💀 so here! Have some baby!writer stuff.

By the time I reached nineteen, I was scared of Nobody. That was what I called him - Nobody. My own private little joke.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody.”

“Who are you staring at?”

“Nobody.”

Not a lie, but not a response that would get me thrown into the nearest mental hospital. I considered that a win/win. It also described him accurately – for he didn’t seem to have a body. All I ever saw of him was shadow. Sometimes it would be clearer, forming a silhouette, and other times he’d just be an ever-shifting mass of darkness. I’d been too young to be frightened by his appearance when I first found him in my grandmother’s attic. I’d thought my cousin’s tales of hauntings in the house had always just been made up to scare me, but regardless, Nobody didn’t scare me – not at first.

By the time he did, I’d known him for a decade, and had only resented him for two of those years. The resentment began at my seventeenth birthday party. Before then, having a negative thought about Nobody was utter blasphemy in my book. I would never allow a bad word to be said about my guardian, protector, teacher and presumed imaginary friend. Not one. My mother would suggest that I was too old for this behaviour, and that it was time for Nobody to go away, only for me to go ballistic. I learned to keep him to myself after that, but my good opinion only strengthened, if anything. What could be bad about somebody, living or not, who was so willing to protect me? Who toppled over the chairs my bullies sat in? Who snuck me the answers I needed in tests? It was absurd, but I kept my mouth shut, and as far as everybody else was concerned, my imaginary friend vanished. It meant little to me – it wasn’t like any of them could see him in the first place.

Then things changed. What was meant to be the best night of my life turned out to be the worst. No parents, no neighbours, no rules. Just lots of booze, music and fun. Or so I thought. The first hint that something was awry was when all of the alcohol became mysteriously unavailable to us. Packs of beer would end up in locked cabinets, with the keys nowhere to be found. Bottles of vodka would fling themselves towards the sink and smash there, any potential source of amusement quite literally down the drain.

Then came the issue of the music. My best friend spent the entire evening wrestling with the CD player, wondering why it would refuse to play certain songs (the ones I knew Nobody hated), or why the volume refused to go any higher than, a pretty pathetic, “six”. The final straw was when every guy at the party suddenly became dramatically ill. Every single one. Headaches, vomiting fits, fevers, or even just a sense of pure unease. They needed little motivation to leave such a pathetic party in the first place. Within an hour, the only guests left were my two best friends. My seventeenth birthday bash had been demoted to a sleepover worthy of a ten year old.

After that, Nobody became less of a trusted ally and more of a domineering parent. Where I used to look at my hungover friends with a smug smirk, happy that Nobody had prevented me from drinking enough to end up in that state, I now looked at them with envy. They were normal. They drank too much and endured the consequences. When they were too lazy to study for tests, they failed. Life was difficult and it was unfair and they complained about it relentlessly. But that was what made it fun. They had to think about their next move, take responsibility for themselves. If they forgot their keys, they’d be locked out – they didn’t have any ghost to open the door for them. Without the dark you find yourself unable to appreciate the light, and so life became unbearably boring. I knew that whatever was approaching me in life, it would be fine. Nobody would handle it, whether I wanted him to or not. I hated it, and I hated him for it. My life was no longer mine to control, but instead belonged to somebody who was dead. How twisted was that? Each day was monotonous, and I found myself learning little - if that - from the limited life experience I had. I made no attempt to have an eighteenth birthday party.

Spurred on by thoughts of my failed seventeenth birthday party, and non-existent eighteenth, I made my decision. On the night of my nineteenth I took a lighter to the living room curtains, setting the place on fire. In the grand scheme of things it seemed like a perfectly safe and reasonable thing to do in the name of distraction. By time the blaze was out and smoke stopped billowing out of the window, I was already down the street, peering out at my home from behind a wheelie bin to make sure that I wouldn’t be returning to the charred skeleton of the house at the end of the night. What I did return to, however, was a foreboding mass of shadow that I was too scared to tear my eyes away from. His presence had gone from endearing to terrifying in seconds flat.

My bedroom was trashed. Books were scattered on the floor, my clothes were strewn around any and every surface available. Even the door had a long, jagged splinter running up through the middle. Nobody made no move, no attempt at communication. Instead he stood stock-still in the corner, shadows bristling.

I didn’t sleep at all that night, instead sitting up in bed, staring at the void that was once my dearest companion with a sense of dread filling my chest. Hours later, when my drunkenness gave way to a fierce headache, all of the painkillers in the house had mysteriously vanished. I’d hoped it would end there, the same way arguments with my parents went. I’d lie, they’d be angry, eventually we’d all forget about it and move on. Nobody wasn’t the type to move on.

That’s where the decision to get rid of him came from. I couldn’t handle it. The constant hounding of my steps, the uncomfortable atmosphere, the lack of sleep. Sure, without him my life would be mundane and ordinary, but what was I with him? An adult with no decisive powers and an enforced bedtime.

When the day came, I kept up the façade marvellously. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and as far as he knew I was simply visiting a new friend at her apartment. Nobody didn’t show any sign of realising something was up until it was too late.

“That’s it?” I asked the ‘mystic’ dubiously as she finished burning incense and tracing odd symbols on my arms with the ash.

“That’s it,” she waved a hand “You may leave. He cannot follow.”

Nobody’s head shot up in clear alarm. His silhouette jerked towards me, but didn’t move. Couldn’t move. His head snapped between the old woman and I, almost like he was watching a tennis match, before it settled on me again and he unsuccessfully tried to move. The shadows around him spiked outwards.

“Oh, hush! You have no power here!” the old woman snapped impatiently.

I paid her as promised, but kept my gaze on Nobody. It was a weird feeling. Like seeing a caged tiger at a zoo. So much power, but no ability to use it. He’d gone from running my life, to being unable to take even a single step in my direction, all thanks to a bit of ash and some fancy words. For half a second, I faltered. I wanted to apologise to him. Pleasant memories surfaced – my toys putting on shows for me as a child, dancing on invisible strings, or even not having to pay to use the tube, as the ticket gates opened on their own upon my approach. But then the shadows spiked angrily again, and the regret was replaced by the more familiar fear.

When I walked out of that apartment, for the first time in ten years I was truly alone. I was truly free. Free to make my own decisions and live outside of Nobody’s grasp. It was then that life decided to catch up on all the years’ worth of lessons it had been unable to teach me until then. My freedom lasted four minutes. If I’d had Nobody with me, he’d have noticed the car that I failed to until it was too late, so used to not even having to look before I crossed the road. The last thing I saw was his dark silhouette, standing motionless in the window overlooking the street.

#esta's OG!fiction

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glittersandsourcherries · 2 years

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Bad idea (part 3) | Elliot x Reader

Summary: You and Elliot have a friends with benefits arrangement, but someone ends up catching feelings

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Prompt: Hi! Can I request a elliot x reader where they have an FWB set up, but one of them catches feelings for the other.

Part 1 | Part 2

Keep sending requests!!

You spent your night tossing and turning in your bed, unable to sleep. Elliot's confession in the laundry room was playing over and over in your head.

I'm in love with you.

The selfish part of you wished he had kept his mouth shut. It was not his fault that he caught feelings, but still. Why? It's going to change everything.

Although the issue was between you and Elliot, it's gonna put an inevitable strain in your friend group - and perhaps, someone will part. You were really scared of that scenario, but you couldn't see things going back to how they were.

Seeing Elliot's heart breaking through his eyes when you got up and left him in the laundry room will haunt you forever. Your heart broke too at that moment. You had wanted to give him a hug, but had refrained, knowing that would've only hurt him more.

Rue and Jules came over in the afternoon. Elliot told them he was sick and had to cancel, but it was a lie - he was not sick. He didn't want to see you. You couldn't blame him. If the situation was reversed, you wouldn't want to see him either.

''Elliot told me he's in love with me.''

Jules cooed. ''That's cute.''

''It would be if we were dating. But we're not.''

''You're not?!'' Rue asked with a frown, stopping playing with the remote of your color-changing lava lamp. She was such a child.

''Oh. Shit. Sorry, I just assumed...'' Jules apologized, sharing a quick glance with her girlfriend who was just as surprised.

If you had given them the impression that you were dating, other people might have thought so too. Oh no... This will make it so much more messy and difficult.

''We're not,'' you confirmed. ''We're just messing around. No feelings.''

''Why not? I think you'd be cute together,'' Jules said.

''You two act like a couple. There would be no difference,'' Rue added.

Jules nodded, which sent you into deep thinking: were you and Elliot acting like a couple?

You spent a lot of time together, but so does friends. You wore his clothes a lot, but that's because they're soft and comfortable. You made flirtatious or sexually suggestive jokes at each other, but it was just your flirty personality. Had a lot of sleepovers - and naps. You slept great when he was there.

You must've been thinking for too long because Rue spoke again.

''He has that look in his eyes when he looks at you,'' she pointed out. ''The same I had the first time I looked at Jules.'' Rue smiled, looking up at Jules.

''You mean you saw me slicing my arm with a kitchen knife at Nate Jacobs' party and immediately fell in love with me? Rue, that's sick.''

''No! I meant outside his house.''

When you got to Elliot's the following day, you didn't realize how early it was. You spent the whole night awake - again -, and in very deep thoughts. Now that morning had risen, you needed to see him. There was a high chance that he might not be awake, but you were already there so you pressed the doorbell.

You heard the rustle of the door unlocking. Dani, Elliot's cousin, opened with sleepy eyes and wearing a very small pajamas. ''Look what the cat dragged in.'' Dani smiled, happy to see you. ''Haven't seen you in a couple of days.''

''Yeah...I had a lot going on.'' You played with the sleeve of your shirt, not feeling like giving her any details.

''Elliot's in his room,'' she said. ''I don't know if he's awake though.''

''He is,'' you lied. ''He texted me.''

''Oh. Well, try to keep it down. Imma go back to bed.''

She let you in and you casted your eyes down, feeling your face flush. Dani knew that you and Elliot weren't platonic. She had caught you and Elliot coming out of the bathroom after a shower and seen you walking around in his shirts, but you didn't think she heard you. That was a whole other level of embarrassing.

You closed the door behind you and took off your shoes before heading down the hallway where Elliot's room was.

You gently knocked on his door, not trying to startle him, and twisted the knob, letting yourself in. The room was dimly lit, the golden glow of the sun coming in through the half drawn curtain above Elliot's bed.

A smile curled on your lips as you watched Elliot sleep peacefully. He was laying on his stomach, his yellow blanket only covering half of his body, and cuddling one of his pillow.

''Elliot,'' you whispered.

No answer.

You crossed his messy floor and crawled on the bed, careful to not step on him. That would be a very unpleasing way to wake up.

The sun was glowing on the smooth skin of his back, making you want to kiss his shoulder. You gave in to the temptation, letting your lips linger for a bit, missing the physical contact. Missing him.

You felt Elliot stir, but he didn't open his eyes. Instead, he leaned into your touch, as if asking for more.

''Elliot,'' you said again, your hand slipping through his hair and gently waking him.

He hummed in pleasure. ''Y/N?'' he mumbled sleepily. You confirmed your presence and he forced his eyes to open, rubbing at them with one hand. ''What are you doing here?'' Elliot asked, his voice hoarse, rolling onto his back.

''I came to talk to you.''

''What time is it?''

''7am.''

He groaned in painful annoyance, cursing you for waking him that early. ''Fuck.''

''I thought about what you said to me the other night at the party. About being in love with me.''

''I said all I had to say.''

''But not me.'' You bit your lip, about to take the jump like he did. The only difference was, you had a larger percentage of having someone to catch you when you'll get to the end. ''I like listening to you play guitar and how fucking amazing you make me feel when you go down on me. I like sleeping next to you and waking with you. I like wearing your clothes and that's not just because they are comfy - they're yours.''

His eyes were glued on you as you, listening. He did not expect that kind of speech from you. Especially not at seven in the fucking morning.

''Elliot, I-'' You paused, trying to find the right words to say. ''I can't say I'm in love, but I think I want to give us a chance.''

''Am I dreaming?'' he asked, sounding dazed. ''Because this is what happens in my dreams. The girl I'm in love with likes me too.''

A laugh left your lips. ''You're not dreaming.'' You took his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles. ''I'm real.''

''Prove it.''

You kissed him.

His reaction was immediate, responding to your kiss with ease and passion. Elliot guided you down on the bed, closer to him.

A yawn rudely interrupted your moment, making you giggle.

Elliot tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, looking at you with hearts in his tired eyes. Was this what Rue was talking about? ''Can we go back to sleep, now? I'll kiss you in a few hours.''

You nodded and stole a quick kiss, smiling against his lips. ''Deal.''

taglist: @garfieldsladybird @kxllanxtdoor

#elliott #elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #elliot imagine #euphoria #euphoria fic #euphoria season 2 #euphoria imagine #dominic fike #I wanted to add more details but it's 2am and I have to go to bed

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angrelysimpping · 3 years

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Part1) Okay ive seen this idea mentioned on other blogs but nothing super detailed, TW for scarification! Whitney likes to mark you up and get tattoos, but I can just imagine that instead of a tattoo he decides a scar of his name would be better. Just imagine soft Whitney, where in his own way he gives you a chance to back out of it. When you agree he takes you someplace alone and quiet and has everything prepared (including medical supplies to clean up. Can't have his slut getting an infection)

Me: I'm going to finish the other asks i've started before starting anything new

*This ask showing up in my inbox and haunting my every waking moment*

Me: oh god oh shit oh fuck

(DoL relationships, blood kink, scarification, soft Whitney)

Whitney gives you plenty of opportunities to back out, in his own way. Leaves you alone at his house as he goes around town, getting what he needs. Leaves the door unlocked. Let's you know over and over what time to expect him back. He tells himself that he won't be mad, disappointed, when he returns home to find you gone. He knows it's a lie, that he'll end up drinking the rest of the night if the house is empty when he returns. It’s rare he’s given free rein over the house, his family gone out-of-town for a week. He won't get a chance like this again for a long time, and he's never been good at waiting.

"Back!" Whitney shouts, slamming the door behind him. He doesn't get a response, the house quiet. "Fuckin' figures," he mutters, heading to his room. He shouldn't have expected anything else. It was such a fucked up thing for him to ask of you.

Opening the door to his room gives Whitney pause. The lights are off, and he can make out a lump on his bed.

Whitney doesn't bother suppressing a wide grin. You're curled up on his bed, asleep.

You're here. You didn't leave.

You stayed.

He flips on the light, crossing the room as you stir.

"Wakey-wakey, slut," he says, grabbing your shoulder and giving you a shake.

You give him a sleepy smile, one that makes his chest ache a little, as he drags you from his bed.

The bathroom is the best place to do it, a room designed to get messy; for easy cleanup. He'd sterilized it himself, spent hours making sure everything was just right.

Whitney gives you some pills. Something to mute the pain, but not completely.

"I couldn't get any numbing ointment," he says, watching you strip. "You'll have to tell me if the pain gets too much and you want to stop."

You nod, not really sure if you would be able to tell the pain of 'time to stop' from the pain of everything else. From the pain of literally letting Whitney cut his name into you.

The tiles are cold on your bare skin, but it's a minor discomfort for what you know will come. Whitney did his research, talked your ear off about all of it. His way of warning you.

His name is already stenciled on your skin. Right under your collarbone, written in his own jagged handwriting. Personalized, he had joked at the time. As if the whole thing wasn't going to be personal.

It takes a lot of self-control to keep yourself from moving when the blade first touches your skin. It's sharp enough that it takes a moment for the sting of its bite to register, pulling a whine from your throat.

"Hush, pet," he mutters, focusing on his work.

You try to stay quiet for him, but it's hard. It's not long before another groan slips out of you.

"H-hurts, Whitney."

"Would be concerned if it didn't."

"Really, ah, really hurts."

Whitney looks up at you, taking in the tears that have already started to run down your face. "But you're doing so well."

When you don't say anything, don't tell him to stop, Whitney goes back to work.

It's maddening, having you under him like this. You're so vulnerable, and you're allowing it. All of it. The knife, the pain, all because he asked you to. All for him, for Whitney.

He can feel his dick getting hard. He's only wearing an old pair of jeans, something he can justify throwing away if he can’t get the blood out. It would be easy to slip them down a little, free himself.

He keeps one hand steady, continuing to carve into you, slipping the other down between your legs.

"Wh-Whitney? What a-ah, are you d-doing?"

"It'll help," he mutters, finding your entrance with practiced ease. "Just be good for me."

You sigh as he pushes a finger into you. He can't tell if it's from pleasure, but he thinks it is.

He's always been good at multitasking. Never tried his skills on something like this, but he thinks he can handle it.

He adds a finger. Then a third, giving you little time to adjust. Withdrawing the blade, Whitney curls his fingers in you, searching until there. The spot that makes you arch up into him, makes you moan his name no matter what hell he's put you through. This time no different.

"Whitney!"

Definitely pleasure, that time.

He makes quick work of his jeans. Dragging you to him, Whitney lifts your hips and makes you wrap your legs around him. He wastes little time, lining himself up with you and pushing in. You start to squirm, the stretch of Whitney's cock just as intense as always.

"Stay still," he groans, placing a hand on your chest, keeping you flat on your back. He almost loses himself when he's fully hilted.

You're so warm. So tight.

"So good," he mumbles, leaning down, kissing your cheek. He can taste the salt of your tears and has to restrain himself from licking your face. There can be time for that later.

He can't lose focus. Not when he's only half done. Not with only 'WHIT' emblazoned in your skin.

"We're almost done, just a little more to go," Whitney whispers, mouth against your ear. He reaches up, cupping the other side of your face, "You can do it, right? Be good a little longer? For me?" he coos, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

You whine, nodding.

Whitney smiles and gives your ear a soft nip before leaning back. He grabs the knife and resumes where he left off.

The blade slipping back into your skin makes you tense. Makes you clench around his cock.

Whitney groans low in the back of his throat.

But he doesn't falter in his work.

You've started crying again. Unable to hold in small sobs as Whitney engraves you.

"Just focus on me," he says, voice husky as he rocks against you. "C'mon, babe, you can do that. Almost done now."

He keeps whispering to you as he works. Soft praise and encouragement. His words make you feel good, warm. Even as they slip through your mind, like water through your fingers. Unable to hold onto them for longer than a few seconds. Mind too hazy. Too overwhelmed between pain and pleasure.

"Last one," Whitney murmurs, still rocking against you. "Last one, just a little more."

And then it's done. His name, carved into your skin.

"Perfect. You're perfect."

He dips down, and you can feel his tongue lapping at the blood that's run down your chest.

"My perfect slut," his words muffled, barely audible, as he presses a kiss into your skin, right below his name.

Whitney starts to rock against you with more fervor, orgasm building. He keeps mumbling, licking and nipping around the cuts.

It's hard to focus as he starts to palm your groin.

"Think you can cum for me?" he pants, working his way up from the cuts, trailing kisses and nips until he's licking the tears off your face. "Be a good little pet and cum on my cock?"

It doesn't take long before you cum, your walls pulsing around Whitney's cock, pulling him over the edge. He settles with his hips pressed flush against yours, trying to cum in you as deep as possible.

"Marked you," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "inside and out."

As he moves back, you can see his mouth and chin stained red with your blood. "Come on slut," he says, grabbing a roll of plastic wrap and a towel you hadn't seen before, "let's get you taken care of."

#degrees of lewdity #blood kink #scarification #Whitney the Bully #skeleton-aesthetic-bitch

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

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every word : a.h

hotch wakes up with an unexpecting phone call, one he’s longed to hear; you’re awake. (1.9k)

a/n : holy shit you guys i didn’t expect this response to ‘hear you’ but thank you so much! i promise there’s a happy ending to this, i think we all need it

hear you / every word

all my links

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Rolling over, you shuffle closer into his embrace, feeling his breath fanning across your shoulder. “Are you awake?” Aaron whispers, brushing his lips across your neck, listening to you giggle.

“Well, I am now,” You joke, lifting your gaze up to your boyfriend, never tiring of his drowsy smile. “I suspect we have approximately two minutes of privacy.” You whisper, and Aaron nods in agreement.

“Let’s make the most of it then,” Aaron mutters as he wraps both arms around you, pulling you on top of him as you try and suppress your squeal. “you gotta be quiet, honey.” He whispers into your lips as he kisses you softly, feeling you moan happily.

“Wait,” You pause, resting your hands on either side of Aaron’s head as you peer your head up toward the door, seeing the knob rattling.

Swiftly, you lie back down beside Aaron as you pretend to sleep and snore loudly like a cartoon character.

Within seconds, the door opens and Jack rushes in. He jumps up onto Aaron’s bed and lands in between you both.

“You’re just like your Dad, Jack,” You chuckle as he dives underneath the sheets, curling up in between you and Aaron. “king of subtlety.”

Aaron laughs lightly as Jack pops his head back up from under the sheets, messing his hair up as he looks between you and his Dad. “Do you have work today?” Jack asks with a heavy heart.

“Not that we know of,” You happily tell the mini Hotchner who smiles brightly. “so, what do you wanna do today then little man?”

You perch up on your elbow, listening to Jack intently as he rambles on about all the things you could do today, forgetting that there are so many hours in a day. But just watching you with Jack, Aaron feels at peace, that he’s finally allowed himself a chance at happiness with you by his side.

Opening his eyes, Hotch looks around.

It was just another dream. You’re still in the hospital.

Sighing heavily to himself, Hotch wipes his face as faint sunlight tries to filter through his blinds. Ever since you went into the hospital, he hasn’t had a full night sleep. You possess his mind, haunt his dreams of a simple life that he’s unsure he’ll ever have back.

Hotch turns to look at your side of the bed, untouched. Your pillows remain perfectly fluffed up as your perfume coats the cotton, weaved into the fabric that provides some comfort in the dead of night.

“I miss you, Y/n.” Hotch mutters under his breath, returning to lie flat on his back as he stares up at his ceiling, missing those early mornings of bliss with you and Jack, his family.

Yet, out of the corner of his eye, Hotch can see his phone lighting up. Without hesitation, he reaches for it and answers it. “Hotchner,” He responds, now sitting upright.

“Hi Mr Hotchner, we have you down as Ms Y/l/n emergency contact?” A woman on the other end of the phone questions and Hotch tears the sheets from his body, now perching on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging just above the floor.

“That’s correct, has something happened?” Hotch asks as the worst possibilities cloud his mind and remains unaware of his bedroom door opening and Jack peering in to see his Dad tensing up with his phone against his ear.

“Ms Y/l/n has woken up,” The woman states, and Hotch has to catch his breath as his heart hammers against his chest.

Barely able to process anything else the woman on the phone says, Hotch just nods to himself. “I’ll be right there, thank you.” He tells her and hangs up, taking a moment as he laughs happily to himself, ignoring the tears forming in his eyes.

“Is Mom awake?” A tired voice inputs and Hotch glances over his shoulder to see Jack stood there in his PJ’s, fidgeting as he leans against the door.

Rising to his feet, Hotch walks over to his son and kneels down. “Yeah, buddy,” Hotch quietly states with a smile crossing his face. “come on, we gotta go.” He tells his son, taking his hand as they both head downstairs for their things before rushing out of the door without a second thought.

It felt strange, that much was undeniable. Every time you blinked, you worried your eyes wouldn’t open again, that you’d be forced back into the darkness alone.

You were regaining control of your limbs as your Doctor explained everything to you in detail once you were fully conscious and competent. Part of you wondered if you dreamed everything you heard whilst in a comatose state, but as you listened to your Doctor, he was simply telling you everything you already knew.

Now, it was early- you knew that much as you sat upright enjoying the warmth basking your skin.

“Sir, you have to come back during visiting hours,” Your ears perk up to the sound of voices in the corridors, and suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as his voice stands out.

“I haven’t seen her for weeks, please,” Hotch pleads, his voice cracking as he moves on, heading to your private room. He pauses outside of it, the blinds still closed. “hey Jack?”

Jack looks up at his Dad, clad in his PJ’s and slippers, but covered in his coat for warmth. “Yeah?”

“Mind giving me a minute okay? I just wanna talk to Mom privately.” Hotch asks, and Jack simply nods as sleep still laces his mind.

Standing up tall, Hotch tries his best to compose himself as he reaches for the door handle and pushes the door open.

“Hey stranger,” Your voice is raspy but clear as Hotch stands in disbelief. He closes the door behind him quietly as he keeps his focus on you, seeing you awake and looking right back at him.

“Y/n,” He breathes out, forcing his feet forward toward your bed as a sad smile forms your lips whilst they quiver. “oh, Y/n.” He reaches out, unable to stop himself as he hugs you tightly, not wishing to part from you again.

You rub your hand across his back as you feel him sob into you. “Aaron,” You mumble, ignoring the tears falling from your eyes as he pulls away and sits down beside you, his hand never leaving yours. “I’ve missed you so much.” You tell him, sniffing as you remain in disbelief. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hotch chuckles to himself. “I’m so sorry Y/n, for everything that happened that night, I, I should’ve walked with you.” He explains, but you squeeze his hand tightly, cutting him off.

“It wasn’t your fault, Aaron,” You sigh in relief. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to tell you that.” You laugh, and Hotch furrows his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asks, clearly perplexed.

You shuffle in your hospital bed, ignoring the mild throbbing of your forehead as you take a sip of water, even if it still burns your throat.

“It’s going to sound insane,” You preface, but Aaron keeps his eyes on you. “I, well, I heard everything whilst I was in the coma.”

Glancing up, you see Hotch staring back at you with that unreadable expression. “Everything?” He asks quietly, and you nod in response. “That, that’s insane, honey.” He tells you.

“Yeah,” You know it’s crazy, hell, how could you possibly begin to fathom it? “but I heard every conversation, every visit from the team and when you came,” You trail off. “yet, all I could think about was telling you that it isn’t your fault. None of it was or ever will be.” You tell him, not daring to tear your gaze from his. “I love you, Aaron, so please, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You heard me?” His voice softens as you nod. “I, I,”

“It’s okay, Aaron, you don’t have to say anything else.” You smile, lifting your hand from his as you place it on his cheek, missing the feeling of his cheeks rising as he smiles into your palm.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Hotch admits, feeling the searing pain cross his heart at the thought.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Hotchner.” You joke, stroking away the stray tears that fall from his eyes.

You glance over his shoulder, noticing the door beginning to open.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” You whisper, and Hotch quickly wipes his eyes as Jack shyly enters.

“Come on over, buddy,” Hotch calls over his son who rushes over.

“Hey, Jack,” You try your best to remain composed as Jack looks up at you with those big eyes, full of love. “I’ve missed you, kiddo.” Your voice cracks and Jack stands in front of his Dad who helps him up onto your bed.

“I’ve missed you, Mom.” Jack remains strong as he hugs you, both arms around your neck as you hold him close.

“I see your Dad wasted no time in getting here, huh?” You joke, seeing him in his PJ’s like Aaron. “I feel a bit left out.” You ease into laughing with Jack, knowing it’s the best medicine for situations like this.

Seeing you with Jack, laughing like old times despite everything is just another reason why Hotch loves you with his whole heart.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Hotch comments as you nod to him before averting your attention back to the mini Hotchner, listening to his stories from school.

He glances through the now opened blinds, seeing you smiling with all your might, despite the evident fear in your eyes.

Hotch takes out his phone and dials Rossi, knowing he’d need to know.

“Rossi.” Dave answers.

“Dave, Y/n’s awake.” Hotch states and Rossi laughs happily through the line and can hear him telling Krystall the good news.

“Oh Aaron, that’s excellent news, is she alright?” Rossi asks, now sitting down as Krystall pats his shoulder before heading into the kitchen.

“She’s doing okay,” Hotch comments, looking over his shoulder at you and Jack. “she’s vulnerable, but I can tell she’s putting on a front for Jack’s sake.” Hotch explains.

“I’m just glad she’s awake,” Rossi sighs. “does she know how long she’s been out?”

Hotch chuckles under his breath. “Y/n erm, she heard everyone the entire time.” Hotch states. “I know it sounds crazy, and trust me, I agree, but she explained how she could hear every conversation someone had with her or others in the room.”

“Damn,” Rossi whistles. “Reid's going to have a field day with this.” Rossi tuts, hearing Hotch laugh lightly. “That’s a lot to have on her mind, though, Aaron.”

“Yeah,” Hotch mutters. “it’s going to be a process for all of us, but we’ll work through it, as a family.”

Rossi smiles to himself, having seen Hotch at his lowest to his highest of highs with you by his side. “Send her our love, okay?”

“I will, thanks Dave.” Hotch hangs up after that and takes a moment to compose himself, knowing it’ll all work out in the end, as you have each other, and that’s all that matters.

okay so thank you for reading! and thank you to these wonderful angels for their amazing and entertaining comments: @spencerreidsoulmate @ellyhotchner @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @ssa-kassidyhughes @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @lumineshawn @oreogutz @prentisswrites @theinsanespaceship15

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nightswithkookmin · 2 years

Text

I think gay or not, he still will blurr out the face of the people in his photos for their own protection and for privacy so it's not telling of much to be honest.

The queerbaiting bit is too strong like you said. Queer baiting is a promise to a gay audience that they are being represented, included and at the very least celebrated.

I don't think he's doing any of that here. But he can be a bit of a troll and some times he participates in the clownry too. It's just like JK pulling Jimin's pants down in Soop when JM said he should save his energy to work later or when he asked Jimin if he wanted to eat some ramen at 1am knowing well the subtext behind it. Does he not know rumor has it he screwing Jimin? Pretty sure he do.

I mean one time he tried to unbutton his shirt on stage while staring Jimin in the eyes- won't lie it haunts me to this day.

Can't take bangtan literal sometimes. They will troll and clown you heavy.

Besides, men have male friends too. Clearly he enjoys the male company he keeps and whether that's his friend or interpreter or both or other we never know.

I get the humor and i participate in it but I'm surprised people are taking it seriously that's all.

Dude freaked out when Tae talked about bts having kids and he freaks out around certain members who are rumored to be dating. But somehow we think if he had a boyfriend he'd post them and blurr their faces to the cheers of the members he seperates. scolds. and censors. Army let's not be weird and just enjoy this for the humor that it brings.

For Jungkook, really all that his actions shows me is something I've already been saying about him consistently for years now that he is not afraid to express his affections for Jimin or anyone really.

You are talking of an ig photo but forget a whole Rosebowl happened.

You say he didn't post for JM on his birthday but did he post for RM or Tae too??? No. Hell he didn't post for any of them for a whole year going on to two but clearly he had been saving pictures of them in his camera roll all along.

And I get that because this is his personal IG and not one hybe is controlling that whatever he posts are things and moments that carry meaning to him but really all he's been doing is posting and deleting and trying to figure the app out.

And this is the most active he's been in a very long time. That's what I find most intriguing.

If he has a picture of Tae, he most certainly has a picture of Jimin in his camera roll too. And please, Tae had 4D photos of Jimin in his camera roll and didn't post them on JMs birthday😫

Didn't even post at all now did he.

I'm still salty about that. No one asked him to go get creative with it. No one😫

I hate these discussions because I feel on one hand, I'm being pushed to compare and contrast and invalidate others' relationship when that isn't and shouldn't be the case.

I'm a bit of the observant type and like to observe, understand a situation before reacting to it. I'm just taking all this in as data either enjoying it or simply pushing it into the archive for review later

I get that it can be hard to see your ship captain pilot another ship but that's between Jungkook and us his shippers isn't it?

When he's done feeding and frolicking around with other shippers he has us, his main 🐥chicks to answer to😤

Not jungkook seeing other shippers😭😭😔

Remind me to give him detention at the end of year shipper/shippee annual review dinner. Lol.

As his lesbian PA and ship clerk, I'll let him know jokers are furious and jealous and he needs to come do the gay for us too. Is Tuesday ok? Oh wait, Jinkookers booked him for Tuesday. How bout Thursday? Is Thursday alright? Whew. The ghetto. Lmho.

I think this is tame compared to the things those two can do and yall just tripping or too spoiled and entitled.

I didn't take them seriously when they said they were working on a song together. I thought it was a joke and Kook played along well. He's actually good at it even though half of the time i don't think he knows shit😫

But if there's a song coming it better be a bop about their shared love for french fries and troye sivan cos Friends is taken and Tae already has a soul mate🤺

I think us shippers need to seperate our personal ideosyncracies from the subject matter and know our boundaries.

Take accountability for your emotions.

If you are mad you are mad. If you are jealous you are jealous. To project and lashout against these boys for your emotions is wrong.

Say it with me, IT IS WRONG.

Been there done that it doesn't help nothing. And I think we could all learn to have a sense of humor about these things.

Please channel all your grievances through me. I'll forward it to kook. And maybe I'm slow and don't get it, do yall feel him posting someone else and not his boyfriend is an ass move?🤔

Or that it shakes the foundation of your belief in Jikook as a thing?? Because if that's the case then I think you need to find a new blogger cos I'm not the one for you😫

If the former is the case then I'm sure he didn't think too much of it but knowing Kook- this was a deliberate act🤷🏾‍♀️

Pretty sure there are a lot of photos he has of himself and other members and he chose to post this on his own free will.

Good for Tuktukkers🙄

But again, it doesn't invalidate Jikook so...

And if JM has a problem with this boy would he whoop someone's ass🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

He didn't post for JMs birthday, made portraits for others, didn't post him on his IG, posted another- my boy must be a masochist chilee. He really must love getting spanked and tied up cos WHY does he keep setting himself up. Lmho.

Funny thing is, he'd be out here posting lyrics about how hoes aint loyal and throwing tantrums if the roles where reversed

I just hope JM doesn't come out here posting nobody cos please we need to respect ourselves in these streets and live up to our reputation of petty mcPetty 😫😫

May be I'm projecting but I only fuck with those who fuck with me and I'm petty as fuck.

I feel it's too early to draw definitive conclusions so let's just watch how they use the app and space and trust that they are adults who know what they are doing and have free will to do what they want to do. You may not like the choices they make but you gotta respect it.

GOLDY

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Southern Generation - Part III *Mature*

Summary: Sy and Lily had a harmonious bubble around them, but ripples are sent through it, with an action of Lily’s and the past haunting Austin.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/Reader

Word Count: 6,211

Warning: M - Language, Fluff, Domestic Kink, PTSD, Attempted Overdose, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Teeny White Lie, Stalking and Harassment

Inspiration: It’s Sy, need I say more?

Author’s Note: Loving this story! Much love to @wondersofdreaming!

Lily laughed as she played tug-a-war with Aika in the living room, the sound of Sy putting up the last of the siding vibrated throughout the house, with her laughs and Aika's playful growling. The hammering stopped and Sy appeared through the front door, smiling at the two partners in crime.

“I need to go into town.” Sy told Lily, when her attention settled onto him. “The saw blade has dulled and I need to replace it.” He explained to her.

“All right.” She nodded, letting Aika take her rope. “I need to get lunch going.”

“I shouldn't be too long.” He promised, then left.

Sy wasn't gone a minute, when the phone rang in the kitchen and Lily moved to pick it up, before she missed it. “Hello?” She answered, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder and turned towards the refrigerator. “Hello?” She frowned, pulling out food items for her and Sy's lunch.

“How's the business going?” A voice finally answered her.

Lily froze, hand resting on the loaf of bread she was reaching for. “How did you get this number?” She gulped, her heart racing and pounding in her ears.

“I bet once that caveman finishes fixing up the place, it'll look brand new.”

“Ho-” She gasped, a dizzying wave of nausea punched her in the gut, as reality set in.

“Soon, Lily. Soon.” The voice chuckled, then the line went dead.

The phone slipped off of Lily's shoulder and clattered to the floor, alerting Aika, who was chewing on her rope in the living room, and came running in, barking in inquiry and suspicion, standing close to Lily's feet and looked up at her, head cocked to the side. Lily gripped the edge of the counter in front of her, trying to take deep breaths in and out, but her vision swam with an overflow of tears and her chest felt like an elephant was standing on it. She turned and stumbled up the staircase in the kitchen that led upstairs, and went into the hall bathroom, locking herself inside, Aika bounding after her and barking at the bathroom door.

“How? How is this possible?” She trembled, pacing the small space. “I was so careful, so careful. It’s not possible. It’s just a sick joke, from some disgruntled customer. But, what if it isn’t? What if it’s really. Where did I go wrong? I put so many miles between us.”

Her hands shook and she struggled to breath, furious tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Flashback after flashback rippling through her horrified and panicked mind, her stomach lurched and she dropped to her knees, wrenching violently into the bowl and losing her breakfast into it. She sat there for a long time, before making up her mind, standing up and opening the medicine cabinet, removing a prescription bottle from inside and popped the top off of it. She knew this was a drastic and dark turn to things as she dumped the bottle into her hand, but it wasn’t as dark and ominous, if the voice on the other end of the phone kept their word about finding her, and Lily wasn’t going to take that chance.

She gulped down dozens of the teeny pills, swallowing them down with sink water, then slowly sank down to the floor.

Sy returned twenty minutes later, with a new saw blade and rumbling stomach. He expected, as always, to find Lily had set his lunch down on the table in the breakfast nook, and was either eating hers as well, or she was patiently waiting for him, so they could eat together.

Instead, he entered the house and heard Aika barking incessantly upstairs, which was unusual.

“Lily!” He called out, rounding into the kitchen, finding lunch foods on the counter, some half opened, and the phone on the floor. “Lily!” He yelled out again, a pit forming in his stomach as he mounted the stairs to the second floor.

He had never been upstairs before, everything he needed in the house was downstairs, the kitchen and half bath, so he was unfamiliar with the layout. But, as he reached the second floor landing, he found Aika standing in front of a closed door, barking, whining and scratching at the wood. He crossed the hall and lifted his hand, knocking softly on the door, and listening inside.

“Lily?” He called, knocking again. “Lily, are you all right in there?” He asked, growing even more concerned, when he didn't receive an answer.

Not waiting a moment longer, Sy pushed Aika away from the door and forced it open with his shoulder. As the door flung open and banged against the wall behind it, Sy rushed into the room and felt his heart plummet out of his body, finding Lily laying on the worn and discolored tile floor. He dropped to his knees as he scrambled over to her, cupping her cold, but sweaty, face in his hands, her eyes were rolled back and half lidded, her breathing was shallow and the scent of vomit permeated in the small space. Sy, despite his heart rocketing in his chest, was reasonably calm, his combat cool kicking in, as he quickly pressed his fingers to the spot under the corner of her jaw, feeling how faint her heartbeat was.

“Shit.” He snapped, under his breath, scanning the room, he found a prescription bottle that had rolled under the lip of the vanity, swiped it up and pocketed it. “Lily.” He called, patting her pale cheeks, trying to get any response out of her. “Come on, Lily. Answer me.” He begged her, patting her cheeks a little harder. “What were you thinking.” He growled, then rubbed his knuckles against her sternum in firm circles.

“Oh, thank god.” He sighed, when she whimpered at the painful rub. “Lily, open your eyes and look at me. Come on, darling, look at me.” He coaxed her, rubbing her chest again, but not with his knuckles, just trying to keep her responsive.

“Sy.” She whimpered, eyes fluttering.

“Yeah, love.” He nodded, shifting to pick her up into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom and down the stairs. “Don't worry, honey, I've got you. I'll take care of you and get you to the hospital.” He told her, carrying her out to his truck and got her strapped into the passenger seat, before hopping in and gunning it down the driveway, relieved at his slight laziness, that he left the gate wide open.

“Come on, Lily. Talk to me.” He told her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder as she whined and pressed her forehead against the window. “Tell me something, anything.”

“I wanna sleep.” She whimpered, brows creased.

“No, no, you can't do that.” Sy shook his head at her, pulling her away from the window. “What color do you want me to paint the house?” He asked, trying to think of anything to keep her engaged long enough to get her to the emergency room.

“What about purple, with hot pink polka dots?” He grinned, blue eyes light up, but still scared for her.

“I hate pink.” Lily whined, her head moving to rest on Sy's broad and stiff shoulder.

“So, pink polka dots.” He said in a voice that said he agreed with the choice.

“No.” She groaned, shaking her head with a whimper, then fell quiet again.

“No, no! Come on, Lily, don't fall asleep.” He begged her, feeling her body relax against him.

The tires of Sy's truck squealed as he parked outside the hospital, pulling Lily out, he quickly carried her into the emergency room, his usual 'cool under pressure' attitude was starting to slip with the desperate situation. The nurse at the station instantly noticed Sy carrying Lily in and read how bad the situation was, jumping out of her seat and barking orders, while guiding Sy to a place he could lay her down and they could start working on her.

“What happened?” She asked Sy.

“I'm pretty sure she overdosed on these.” Sy replied, taking the prescription bottle out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I don't know why she decided to do it, I just found her unresponsive on the bathroom floor. She was responsive for a few minutes, but then stopped just before we got here.”

“How do you know her?” The nurse asked, reading the name off the bottle.

Sy bit his lip, he knew if he admitted that he only worked for Lily as a handyman, then they wouldn't let him see her until after they had done everything they could for her. So, he fibbed. “She's my fiancée.” He told her, his voice steady and his face gave away nothing, but his concern for her.

“So, her name is Lily Ana Moore?” The nurse asked, reading the name off the prescription label.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, though he wasn't aware of her middle name.

“And, you are?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Austin Syverson.” He replied, glancing over to Lily's bed as she whimpered.

“We'll take the best care for her, Mr. Syverson.” the Nurse promised him, resting a gentle hand on his forearm and gave it a tender squeeze.

They tended to Lily, while Sy stepped out into the waiting room, he was too high strung and agitated to sit down, so he paced from the humming vending machine and the automatic doors. His mind roiled over reasons and scenarios as to why Lily would try to overdose. She had been fine, before he left to the hardware store for a new saw blade, playing tug-a-war with Aika and about to make them lunch. What could have happened in the, maybe, fifteen minutes he was away, that was so frightening that she would rather take her life, than to either face it or tell him about it. If she had said something to him, told him that she was afraid of something, or someone, then he would have promised to protect her.

In a heartbeat.

“I’ll protect her from now on.” He muttered to himself, still pacing the room.

Once they were satisfied with how stable she was, then sent her up to a private room for an overnight observation, Sy stayed with her the whole time, never leaving her side, even once she was stable and in her room. He sat in a chair beside her bed, chin resting on his chest as he snored softly, the room was dark and quiet, minus the heart monitor she was hooked up too. It was late, when Lily did finally come back around on her own, sighing and whimpering, her body feeling spent and sluggish. She opened her eyes and instantly recognized she wasn't in her own bed, but a strange room, and panic started to set it, causing her to wake Sy.

“Hey.” He sighed, rubbing his tired face and leaning forward to take her hand in his. “You're all right, Lily.” He told her, his voice rough from sleep.

“Where am I?” She asked, squeezing his hand, like it was a lifeline, calm now that she realized Sy was there, watching over her.

“The hospital.” He replied, thumb rubbing the top of her hand. “I barely managed to get you here, after that stunt you pulled.”

She let out a heavy breath and rested back against her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. “I'm sorry, Sy.” She whispered, not opening her eyes again. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“And what did you mean to do?” He asked, lifting a brow at her. “Why would you try killing yourself?”

“It's complicated.” She replied, sighing again and opening her eyes.

“Then, uncomplicate it.” Sy begged her, wanting to understand what she was thinking.

“I can't.” Lily shook her head, the fear that had gripped her before her attempt started to return.

Sy could feel the tremble in her hand as it gripped his, he knew there was something she was afraid of, that she was trying to run and hide from, and wanted to help her so much, to protect her, so badly. He got up out of his chair and sat on her bedside, holding her hand in his lap and gently brushed his fingers against her cheek.

“You don't have to be afraid.” He whispered, gently. “I promise, I will protect you.”

“Don't make a promise, you can't keep, Austin.” Lily replied, meeting his eye.

“I can, and I will.” Sy replied, his stomach twitched, hearing her use his first name. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, lifting a brow at her.

Lily paused a moment, regarding him, then bit her lip. “Lay with me?” She whispered, gulping at the strangeness of her own request.

Sy blinked at her for a moment, it was a bit of an odd request, but, if that's what she wanted of him, then Sy would gladly do it. He nodded, feeling slightly awkward, then toed out of his boots, while she shifted and turned onto her side, so Sy had room to lay down with her. He let her shift, her back pressing against his chest, and tucked his arm under her head, gently pulling the blankets over them and resting his other arm over her side.

“This must be awkward for you.” She mumbled, a few minutes later.

“Actually, it's not.” He chuckled back, his breath lightly caressing the back of her hair. “The most awkward thing that I've ever done, happened on my very first deployment to Iraq.”

Lily turned her head to look back over at him. “Tell me about it?”

Sy smiled at her, biting his lip. “So, it was my first deployment, back in 2004, I had been in the country a week, but hadn't left base yet in that time.” He started to explain to her. “So, my first outing off the base was a decent distance, and at some point, I ended up needing to go to the restroom.”

She laughed, starting to get the picture, making Sy smile.

“Now, I wasn't naive. I knew there wasn't a bathroom for several klicks, and I doubted any of the locals were going to let my ass in to use their bathroom.” He laughed, making them both shake from its mirth. “So, I asked my commander, cause then, I was just some lowly runt, where I could go. He walked away for a moment and came back, carrying a short handled shovel, handed it to me and said, 'pick a spot.' motioning to the wide open field we were in.”

“Oh lord, no.” She grinned, blushing at the thought of digging a random hole and going in it. “Tell me you didn't!”

“Of course, I did!” He grinned back. “I really had to go, and I wasn't holding it for another hour on patrol and three hours back. So, I dug a hole, dropped my cameos and did my business, with six guys, more or less, watching me.”

“Watching you?”

“Well, they had to make sure no one snuck up on me, and tried to kill me.” He chuckled, fully amused.

“You're braver than I am.” Lily said, after they stopped laughing. “I would have held it.” She giggled, shaking her head at the thought, relaxing in his arms.

“I think that makes you much braver.” Sy whispered, feeling the change in her breathing against the skin of his bicep as she drifted back off to sleep. “So much braver.”

“Sy, you can't sleep on the couch like this.” Lily sighed, finding him on the couch in the living room.

Ever since she returned home from the hospital, Sy insisted on sleeping on the couch, not wanting to leave her alone in the house. She had tried convincing him that she was all right, that he didn't need to sleep there and keep an eye on her.

“You should go home to Austin, sleep in your own bed.” She told him, handing him a cup of fresh coffee.

“I haven't slept in my own bed, in nearly a month.” Sy replied, taking several deep gulps of the hot brew.

“What?” Lily snapped, sitting down beside him, with a cup of tea. “Still!”

“I told you, I've been sleeping at the motel in Celina.” He confessed to her. “I've been too tired most nights to safely drive back to Austin, and it's only a couple minutes from here, instead of three hours.” He told her, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And I told you, you didn't need too, Sy?” Lily sighed, annoyed with him.

“Because, you would have wanted to pay for it.” He countered.

“No, I would have given you the guest room upstairs, like I said.” She countered back, lifting a brow at him. “And, if you insist on staying here, then I suggest you take the room, instead of the couch, so at least then, you can stretch out and not wake up all stiff and uncomfortable.” She told him, firmly.

“Especially, since Aika seems to enjoy sleeping with you.”

Lily had come downstairs at night, several times, to find Sy's long body stretched out on the couch, his head resting on one armrest, while his feet hung over the other one, and Aika's large body laid on top of him, like some sort of furry blanket.

“I've already made it up for you.” She added, getting back up and going into the kitchen.

Sy got up and followed her, setting his coffee down on the breakfast nook table. “Lily-”

“We both know, you're not going to leave me alone in the house, Austin.” Lily huffed, yanking open the refrigerator door. “So, there's no use for your additional discomfort, by sleeping on a couch that has zero support or comfort, especially after you've spent all day breaking your back to fix up my property.” She explained to him, pulling out a carton of eggs and milk, before letting the door of the original Big Chill refrigerator slam shut behind her.

“There's a comfortable bed in the guestroom, that's situated against the window, with a small walk-in closet and dresser, as well as being across from the hallway bathroom. As I said, I made the bed up for you, clean sheets and pillowcases. I opened the window as well, to air it out, since it's usually closed up and unused.” She explained to him, pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove, clicking on the gas burner.

“I do need to warn you, that the hot water tap in the upstairs bathroom, doesn't work.”

“Is there something wrong with the hot water heater?” Sy asked, lifting a brow at her.

“Not that I'm aware of, but I also don’t know crap about them, so I wouldn't know where to look or how to fix it, without replacing the thing completely. But, I don't think there is a problem with it.”

“Why's that?”

“Because, the hot water in all the sinks work, and the hot water in my master bathroom works as well.” She explained to him, whipping up a pancake batter, while the pan heated up. “I just don't understand why the hot water in that particular bathroom doesn't work.”

“Has it worked at any point, while you lived here?” Sy asked, watching her.

Lily paused and sighed, her brow creasing as she stared off in the middle distance for a moment, trying to recall. “I don't think so.” She finally replied, going back to the batter.

“Hm.” Sy frowned, his own brow deeply creased as he mauled over the numerous reasons the hot water wouldn't work. “I'll check it after breakfast.” He answered, pressing his lips together. “Do you need any help?” He asked, watching her fuss over the rest of breakfast.

“Yeah, can you flip the pancakes for me.” She nodded, side stepping the stove, so he could flip them.

Sy nodded, taking up the rubber spatula she was using and gripped the handle of the pan, carefully working the edge of the spatula around the sides of the bubbling pancake, before slipping it under and flipped it, quite unsuccessfully, splattering half cooked batter all over the pan. Lily saw it from the corner of her eye and laughed, shaking her head at him.

“Have you never flipped a pancake before, Captain?” She teased, turning to face him.

“I have, I'm just shit at it.” He replied, grinning at her, but Lily could see the warmth seeping into his hairy cheeks.

“Here.”

Lily stepped between Sy and the stove, gripping his hand, that still held the utensil, and guided him to the other pancake in the pan, gently slipping the edge of the spatula under it, and with a quick flick of their wrists, she helped him flip over the pancake, perfectly.

“See?” She smiled up at him, her blue eyes filled with pride. “You just have to do it quick and steady, like ripping off a plaster.” She picked up the batter and poured some of it into the sizzling pan. “Give it a minute, then try flipping it again.”

With that, she turned back to what she was doing, dicing up some potatoes. “Look at you!” She exclaimed, watching Sy's smooth pancake flip.

“You're a good teacher.” He smiled at her, setting the finished pancakes on a plate beside the stove.

“Would you like bacon or sausage?” She asked, opening the refrigerator again, turning her head to look at him, a brow lifted in curiosity.

Sy licked his lips and got a funny feeling in his stomach, something he had never felt before, not even as a young boy. He felt like he—belonged, here and now, with Lily. It was a natural feeling of domestic belonging, like there was a oneness between them and he had found his rightful place in the world.

“Sy?” Lily frowned at him, concerned.

She saw that far off look in his eye and worried he was having a flashback. She had seen him have them before, and after the first one, where he nearly took her head off, Lily learned not to touch Sy, calling his name, usually, did the trick of bringing him back around. But, this time was different, there was a sparkle in his cerulean eyes, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Austin?” She said, carefully, licking her lips and feeling butterflies in her stomach.

Sy blinked several times and focused on her, smiling completely, warm and happy. “Sausage, please.” He finally replied, cocking his head at her.

“Okay.” Lily nodded back, eyes wide like a doe's. “Why don't you sit down and relax, I can finish up.” She suggested, motioning to the table. “Your coffee is getting cold.”

“Sure.”

He kept smiling at her, even as he sat down at the table and sipped his cooling coffee; watching her drop the finely diced potatoes into the pan, stirring them around as they cooked and browned, before cracking three eggs on the edge of the pan and dumped the contents in with the potatoes, then tossed the shells into the empty bowl the pancake batter was in. She kept stirring the browned potatoes and fluffy eggs together, then added sliced up sausage. Finishing it up, she brought the food to the table and Sy served himself, heaping the potato, egg and sausage scramble onto his plate with four large pancakes, drizzling maple syrup everywhere. Lily picked Sy's now empty coffee cup up and filled it with fresh coffee, putting in two sugars and set it back down in front of his plate.

“You know how I take my coffee.” He asked, digging his fork into his mountain of food.

“I've known you for several months at this point, so, it's only natural that I've noticed things about you.” She chuckled, sitting down and making her own plate for breakfast.

“Fair enough.” He laughed, and got down to eating.

After breakfast, and helping Lily wash and dry the dishes, Sy went upstairs to the hallway bathroom to try and figure out why the hot water wasn't coming out of the tap. He tested it, spinning the hot tap all the way over, water jetting out of the shower head. He left it running for several long minutes, touching it periodically, and only found it to be even colder than when it first came out. Pressing his lips together and sighing through his nose, Sy turned the tap off and went downstairs to his truck, taking out the tool box from the back and carried it back inside, removing the faucet cover and checked the valve. He removed the tap handle, unscrewed the plate and reached inside for the valve, finding it was broken.

“There you are, you pesky little shit.” He said, setting it on the sink counter. “I need a new one.” He sighed. “Lily.” He called out, going down the hall to her office.

“Sy?” She called back, her eyes still on the work on her computer screen.

“I found the problem with the shower in the hall bath.” He told her, standing in the office doorway. “I'm going to go down to the hardware store to get a replacement part for it.” He explained, looking her over as she sat cross legged in her office chair.

“Will you be okay, while I'm gone?” He asked, his tone careful.

Lily's shoulders slumped and she looked over at him. “I'll be fine, Austin.” She told him, slightly annoyed with him being so overprotective, though she appreciated it and felt incredibly safe with him around. “Go, and if you remember, can you bring me back some Reese cups?” She asked, as he turned to leave.

“I've got a mad chocolate craving going on.”

“A hot shower and chocolate coming up.” He grinned at her, and left for the store. “Keep an eye on her, Aika.” He whispered to the pup as she laid spread out on the front porch, enjoying the warm rays of the sun; patting her on the head.

Aika huffed at him, before getting up and strolling inside, climbing the stairs and wandering into Lily's office, then laid down at her feet, dropping back off to sleep. Lily smiled down at her, bending in her chair to pat her between her proudly standing ears, then returned to her work. Sy returned an hour later, with four packages of king sized Reese Cups and the replacement hot water valve.

“Christ.” Lily laughed, when he set the candy down in front of her. “Did you buy the store out?” She teased, looking up at him.

“Actually,” Sy grinned brazenly at her. “I did. It was all they had in the little corner store, next to the hardware store.” He confessed, he thought it would be funny to buy them all, and one can never have enough chocolate.

“Thank you.” She giggled, opening one of them up, amused by his sense of humor and popped one into her mouth..

“You're welcome.” Sy nodded his head to her, butterflies filling his stomach hearing her laugh, making her laugh, and gulped as he watched her take the candy whole into her mouth, feeling something stir much lower than his stomach, before turning and going back to fix the shower.

“Is it working?” Lily asked, a little while later, coming into the bathroom to watch him work.

“See for yourself.” Sy replied, turning the tap on and stepping aside.

Lily stepped forward and held her hand out under the streaming water, feeling the pleasant warmth of it. She looked over her shoulder at Sy and smiled at him, proud and amazed. “That's amazing! Is there anything you can't fix?” She asked, drying her hand on the towel hanging on the rack.

“Oh, I'm sure there is.” Sy smiled, leaning back against the vanity. “But, if I encounter it, I'm sure I could figure it out.”

“I'm sure you would.” Lily smiled, patting him on the chest as she went out of the bathroom.

Sy beamed with pride, seeing how happy and proud of him she was, her gentle pat only re-enforcing that fact.

Later that night, Sy took the duffle bag he had filled with his clothing and other things he needed, upstairs to Lily's offered guestroom. It was a sweet little room, the window let in a lot of light during the day and he could see Billie Marlowe's crops and the beautiful night sky as he laid in bed. The dresser was big enough for all his things. He toed out of his boots and sat down on the edge of the bed, then laid back. It was a comfortable bed, more comfortable than the couch and the bed in the motel room he had been renting.

Satisfied, Sy stood, pulled out a pair of shorts and a black tank top, with a bar of soap, and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

He stood under the hot spray of the shower head, letting it seep into his tired and sore body for a while, before soaping up his body, head to toe, rinsed and dressed, before stepping out of the steamy bathroom. He paused in the hall and turned his head, Lily's room was at the end of the hall, the staircase leading into the kitchen between them, and her door was closed. But, he could hear the soft creaks of her moving about her room, no doubt doing the similar ritual he was, before going off to sleep.

Sighing, he went into his room, leaving the door cracked open for Aika to come in and out, and crawled into bed, the washed sheets and quilt smelled just like Lily, and he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped from deep in his throat, pressing the quilt to his nose and inhaling deeply. She smelled amazing, he wondered what her skin smelled like, before drifting off.

Lily wasn't sure what time it was, when she first heard it. At first, she thought it was just part of the dream she was having, but as it came more regularly, she realized it wasn't in her dream, but in the house. Her eyes opened, blinking in the darkness of her room as she laid still in bed, listening intently.

Yes, it was real and in the house, but what was it?

Shaking her head, she threw her blankets back and got out of bed, tiptoeing to her closed door and pressed her ear to the wood. It was a loud whimper, followed by a whine, with other noises mixed in. Daring to open her door, she stepped out into the hall and slowly followed the noise, down to Sy's room. She pushed open his half open door and peeked inside, Aika was sitting on the side of the bed, whining as she looked up at Sy, who was laying on his back, sweaty brow deeply creased and shaking his head, like he was trying to wake himself up, to no avail.

“Move.” He called out, body jerking. “Tristan.” He yelled out, then whined.

“Sy.” She called out to him, standing in the doorway. “Sy, wake up.”

But, he didn't.

Biting her lip, and stepping into the fray, Lily moved to the side of the bed, her stomach clenched as she sat down beside him, waiting for him to suddenly lunge at her, but he didn't. Her heart was pounding as she reached out and gently wiped away the heavy sweat on his brow, he made a sound, between a sigh and a growl as she did, his hands coming up, but fell back to the bed, before reaching her. She frowned at him, stroking the side of his face, his hair was slightly longer than it had been, when he first came. He usually kept it very short, but with her going into the hospital, he had neglected cutting it.

She touched the side of his head, feeling the soft hair just above his ear, then petting down his neck and cupping his cheek.

“It's all right.” She cooed at him in a soft and silky voice. “Ssshh, it's all right.” She spoke to him softly, caressing his bearded cheek with her thumb and rubbed his chest through the thin black material of his tank top.

Sy's wide and alarmed eyes shot open and he snapped upright, gasping for air and shaking, but he didn't lash out at her, like he had on the porch that day. She bit her lip, watching this bear of a man tremble, struggling to control his breathing and so frightened. Lily laid her hand on his tense shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze; Sy's head snapped to the side, looking at her, but not quite seeing her, but the face of the teammate he had been calling out for, one of the first men Sy had ever lost in combat.

“Lily.” He whispered, in a disembodied voice. “What are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly sounding alarmed and panicked, his sweaty body rigid. “It’s not safe, you have to leave, before more of them show up.” He told her, his voice still sounding discorporated.

“Who, Austin?” Lily frowned, shaking her head at him, not understanding what he was talking about. “Who’s coming?”

Sy’s vision hyper-focused on the small gap between them, twitching quickly side to side, like he was trying to reconnect unplugged wires in his jumbled up and confused mind, struggling to remember if he was in reality with Lily or in the nightmare of a long ago mission in Iraq that had gone bad for everyone involved, changing Sy forever, the first hung thread in a thick web of PTSD and flashbacks. But, the gentle touch of Lily’s hands on him, the soft whisper of his name in her voice, the close warmth of her body and her sweet smell gave Sy the traction he needed to pull himself back to reality and consciousness.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, biting his lip, self-conscious. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right.” She replied, then wrapped her arms around him, hugging him against her and rubbing his back. “It's okay, Austin.” She whispered into his ear as he buried his face into her neck. “You're okay. Safe and sound, back home, and with me.” She told him, closing her eyes as his arms wrapped around her waist and he clutched her against his sweaty and shaking body.

“I've got you, Austin.” She assured him and rested her cheek against his temple, tenderly rubbing the back of his head. “I won't let anything happen.”

Sy nuzzled his face into her neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself down and took in the comforting scent of her skin as he did, it helped him relax, as did the soft words she whispered into his ear and the soothing touch of her hand on his head or on his back. He didn't want to let her go, afraid that as soon as he did, she would fade away and the nightmares would come back, having only tricked him into thinking it was her.

Even though her heart thundered in her chest, she made a choice. “Come on, Austin.” She said into his ear, patting him on the back and wiggling in his arms, trying to entice him to let her go, so she could stand up.

“Where?” He whimpered into her neck.

She licked her lips. ��Come to bed with me.” She told him, her lips brushing the rim of his earlobe. “Let me hold you and keep the nightmares away.”

Sy moaned softly into her ear, but his arms secured themselves around her waist, shifting her into his lap and stood, picking her up, still very unwilling to let her go, even for the minute it would take to go down to her room. So, he carried her down the hall and laid down in her bed, only then, letting her go long enough for her to cover them up and lay down beside him. Sy turned onto his side, wrapping his arms around her and hugged her against his body, his head laying on her chest.

Lily frowned, sympathetically, down at Sy, caressing his head, neck and shoulders, whispering soft things to him, soothing and lulling him back to sleep, with the pound of her heart in his ear and the pillow-y warmth of her skin and breasts under his head.

“My sweet bear.” She cooed at his sleeping form, then kissed the top of his head.

#Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Southern Generation #Southern Generation *fic*#viking-raider fics #captain syverson #Syverson #Austin Syverson #Syverson/OFC #Syverson x OFC #Sand Castle #Lily #Hurt/Comfort #PTSD #Domestic Kink #Language #Fluff #Angst

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inkskinned · 4 years

Text

When the honey showed up, we all just took it inside. That was one of the things about it - it was always a little warm, always in the same simple jar and the nice plaid bow. Handmade-like. Most of us put it in our pantries or in the back of our cabinets, some put it in the fridge. we just thought to ourselves: gee, what a wonderful present.

I don’t know how long it took before we all had one. For a while, the most that would happen was two-minute feel-good op ed pieces in local newspapers. People would run little letters to the editor to find out the “culprit”. Sometimes there were faux-serious “investigations” when that parent freaked out about the possibility of drugs in honey. Most of the time, it ended quickly. After all, it was a nice gift from a neighbor, and it was yours. that was another thing. A house could be 122 people, and we’d all find our own jar on the doorstep, one at a time. we would know when it was ours and when it wasn’t, no matter how alike they looked. nobody ate it, at first. It was yours, and you wouldn’t eat it, and you couldn’t eat another person’s. it just wasn’t done. and the thing is - in that imaginary house, of 122 people? we’d all buy other honey. it was both there and took up space - but none of us thought of it as actually existing. we’d put down our storebought honey right next to it and think - why did i buy another? i’ve wanted to try this one for a while. and then the thought would simply be out of our head, because this is our third bag of baby carrots we have bought to let spoil again.

it was that one person who mentioned it on youtube. actually i think it was a vimeo “urban legends” series. some person with 6 followers who deleted like instantly. but then 6 people said something similar: everyone they knew had this one specific honey story. and then 12. and then all of a sudden we all woke up to “#honeyonthedoorstep” globally trending. we all posted our pictures of our honey and called each other liars and got into discourse fights with vegans and people without a sweet tooth. In 24 hours, it was running the media. 9-at-night serious news anchors leaned over to each other and said “now john, did you hear about this?” and despite their disbelief, they’d admit: i got the honey too. I think somewhere in march. maybe around the 5th. but i never ate it or thought anything of it. i just thought - what a nice gift.

By the end of the week, there were YouTube challenges and instagram memes and a netflix miniseries in the works. Lots of people tried to eat their honey, and most who “succeeded” were deemed a hoax - but truth be told? it’s not good tv to watch someone pick up honey and say “actually it’s not ready” or something similar and just decide to go do something else. i tried once, winedrunk and thinking i could be famous because it’s just honey. and i remember thinking that exact thing - it’s not ready. i realized i needed to go do dishes, this was stupid and kind of cringey.

and people freaked out, of course. outside of the jokes were parents who were asking if their children would get a jar one day, if this was a one-time thing. there were so many conspiracy theories the government finally had to say something (not that any of us were actually listening), there were massive hunts to find “the team of honey dispatchers”, there were plenty of false confessions, there were rallies to destroy the things. i don’t know if anyone actually did, because in the end? it was just a jar of honey, and it was yours, and it would be a shame to throw it at the floor just because the internet told you so. I moved three times that year - grad school, job, other better job. i always took mine with me. it wasn’t a real choice, it was just... like taking a plate that belonged to your grandmother, or carrying a song stuck in your head. it was just something that was going to come with, but it bore no special attention. and then back into the pantry it went.

two weeks later? we all just... moved on from talking about honey. it was in some memes, it was in BuzzFeed’s “top 5 weirdest stories (that are actually true)”, it was going to be the central plot of books and horror movies. but it wasn’t interesting, not really, anymore. it was like saying “all people need food”. it was just true, and not really changing. every consecutive conspiracy video got less likes, and by the end of the year, it was old enough to be a staple in bad stand-up comedy and in coming-of-age children’s shows.

nobody believed the first ones who ate it. the most traction that those posts got were from friends and family who barely remembered the whole fad. we all just figured it was a weird annual resurgence kind of thing.

but then people were definitely, absolutely, 100% eating their honey. i think i heard about one of my coworkers first. i didn’t know her; she was in another department. she told everyone it was very similar to “normal” honey. just a little tarter than she’d expected.

twitter was in an uproar. the honey was sweet to some. spicy to others. horrible, bitter, like a thousand stingers. it was perfect, it tasted like summer. most people said: it’s just honey, and absolutely regular.

those of us who weren’t ready were biting our fingernails for a while, going to our pantries, wondering - what the fuck do i mean it’s not ready? but it wasn’t ready.

like i said, it’s warm, always. But you just... know. one day you realize you really want honey on toast. or honey on tea, honey on a banana, just... honey. i remember opening it, but it didn’t feel like any more interesting than going to the cabinet for honey ever feels. i pour mine, usually, skipping a spoon because i’m usually too lazy. i was already in the middle of my meal before i realized - this is the honey. it’s not just a normal breakfast, it’s the breakfast, holy shit.

mine is just, you know. honey. it has a little hint of spice and sweet to it, which i actually quite like. it reminds me of this red pepper jelly my family used to get, and it makes me happy. but in the end? it’s honey. i don’t feel like i’m connected to a seventh realm. it’s good on oatmeal and bad in coffee no matter what some of you will tell me.

it’s just, you know. once you get your jar, and it’s ready, you have a little honey roughly every 24ish hours. it’s nothing absurd. it’s just honey, i mean - it’s like saying “you’re alive, so at some point, you should probably eat.” Most of us, it hasn’t really changed our schedules. it doesn’t seem to ever run out, which is good, because we’re always forgetting to check to see if we need more before we go shopping. for most of us? you don’t die if you miss a few days, even a few weeks, you don’t go crazy trying to get it back. sure, there’s weirdass cultists who worship it, but most of us just seem to think - it’s nice to have, and it’s okay to want this thing.

now, there’s some stuff out there, you know, about what it all “means”. and honestly, we all notice things. i’m not the only one who has seen that good people tend to think their honey tastes good and eat it normally. bad people tend to eat their honey frequently but hate every second of the eating. there are plenty who will snort and say “i’m a good person and i think it tastes like dirt” and plenty who will say “i’m a shit person and i think it tastes like the summer i finally kissed her”. and i don’t know, not the way i knew if it was ready, but it feels like a simple thing amidst all the messy. and it’s probably helpful that i think mine is, like most people’s, just a nice in-the-middle. i mean, the other day i heard it asked like a star sign - what’s your honey like?

there’s this one thing, though, you know. i choose to believe, because it might make me secretly happy. it’s like believing in nessie. i know realistically it’s probably just hearsay. but there’s this underground rumbling that, over time, the honey changes. just a little, every day, unnoticeable to most of us who go to work and do our best by others but still sometimes steal toilet paper. there’s these stories of people who made it rich by selling out their friends, who stole patents, who argue that others should charge for insulin - that they liked the honey, at first, but over time, it’s gone rotten. and similarly, every so often, there’s these stories of people who were normal “regular” honey people, who helped someone out of the bottom. who chose to be just a little bit better than they were the day before. who had moments of decisive kindness that changed them. they all say the same thing: since then, the honey has been amazing, and they work to keep it that way.

my grandmother and my mother were never surprised. they have this saying about bees and their secrets. my mother said to me: we have always had these tiny angels. they’re just giving us each a taste of the world we are making.

my grandmother later tells me, while watering the flowers, almost the exact same thing: they will haunt us when they go, because they keep books in their combs. and they see us giants, and no matter who we lie to? the world of bees will know.

#spilled ink #prose #short story #honey #i originally wrote this in my car while binge eating doritos happy mardi gras style #but then tumblr deleted it lmao bc i walked between 2 wifi connections #so if it sucks its bc i had to half-remember a good version

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

#John Wick imagine #John Wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

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yonkimint · 3 years

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So Show Me, I’ll Show You

Part 28.1

This part has written parts with pictures in between.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

TAGLIST (send me an ask or leave a reply if you want to be added!): @esteemedsalt @halesandy @historicalgigi @seaoffangirling @secretlycrazyhummingbird @kiwimash12 @aviwasabi21 @sehun096rainbow @darkskin-buttercup @rainfallingfromthesky @yoongiofmine @lucedelsole97 @pleasegivemearemedyyy @kim-jias-den @unadulteratedlyunique @thesweetest-peas @joyfullyobsessed @irishhbamb

When the door to your hospital room swings open, you groan in relief. Finally Jimin was here to jailbreak you. It was great having Lauren, Heeji, and Luna here but they are dutiful bulldogs and you can’t blame them. Your last visit to the hospital had left them pretty traumatized.

Your hopes fall when a man in scrubs steps into the room instead. You had seen him once or twice but you had never exchanged words. In fact, the only reason you remember him at all is because he is white and you thought that was odd, considering you were in a Korean hospital.

“Oh hi,” you say, uncomfortable, when he just stands at the foot of your bed. His head is bowed so you can’t study his face too closely but his presence puts you on edge. He doesn’t respond to your greeting so you push on, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “The nurses just did their rotations and I’m doing fine. Did you need to check something?”

He laughs. A low throaty laugh that has haunted all of your nightmares. Your hands fist around hospital sheets as a cold chill runs up your spine. Swallowing around the lump rising in your throat, you peer closer at him.Mark’s hair is black. This orderly’s is ash blonde. But everything else… you suck in a sharp breath.

“Hello, y/n, did you get my flowers?”

He lifts his head and all his sharp features suddenly come into focus. He has been here the whole time watching you try to recover from injuries that he perpetuated. He looks pleased. And his pleasure makes you want to claw his face off.

“Go to hell, asshole.” You try to sound menacing, to hiss these words like poison, but they only come out a weak, fearful wheeze. Mark clucks his tongue at you.

“Look at you, y/n, trying to be brave when you’re really nothing but a weakling. A cowardly little girl. You would be nothing without me and you know it. You don’t really think you’re going to fight me, do you?”

There’s a glimmer in his eye and it makes you so angry. But the part of you that has endured his abuse for years is still the stronger part and you feel your anger give way to hopelessness. Mark is right. You won’t fight him.

“Good girl. Now, we are going to go on a little field trip, okay?”

You shudder as he steps around the bed and traces the IV still in your arm. You had been waiting until the last second to remove it so the nurses wouldn’t suspect anything if they walked in but now you regret that choice. Mark has no intentions of being gentle with you.

He presses a palm against your mouth, smiling vindictively as the fingers of his other hand loop around the tubes that have been delivering your medicine and fluid for the last few days and yanks the whole thing loose. You whimper into his skin as blood splashes from your open vein.

“How are we supposed to go on a field trip when any camera is going to catch you dragging me out of this room?” you ask him, hoping fleetingly that he hasn’t thought of this. But he’s been here for who knows how long.

“My little writer,” he coos, snatching your phone from your lap and slipping it into his scrubs pocket, “You really do try to think of everything that can happen, don’t you?”

You glare at him. You have taken abuse from him all these years and still, it’s the patronizing that sets you off every time. And he knows he’s pushed the right button too because he laughs and pats your cheek gently.

“Oh my sweet little y/n, the field trip is right here in the hospital. I’m going to roll you out of here in that wheelchair,” he says, pausing to point to the wheelchair that sits in the corner of your room, “and we’re going to go down the hall. And you’ll do exactly what I tell you to because you know that I have your phone which means I can either let you say goodbye to your friends or make them think that you never want to see them again. Your choice!”

This is so cliche, you think, hobbling out of bed when he gestures for you to get up, like something out of a stupid soap opera. Disguises himself as an orderly and kidnaps me right under everyone’s noses. God damnit.

Your field trip brings you to a supply closet on the third floor of the hospital which, conveniently, is under renovation. You can’t help but think that Mark is following this cliched script just to piss off the writer in you.

Now that you’re out of sight of the cameras, he has tied your limbs to the chair so you can’t run away. A gag sits roughly in your mouth and cuts against the corners of your lips. Mark is circling you as if deciding where he should start.

Lauren told you that he threatened to do so much worse than put you in the hospital next time he found you and you let your eyes flutter shut in defeat.

You choose not to think about that. Instead, you let your memories play like old movie reels on the backs of your eyelids. Heeji’s art galleries. Lauren’s photo shoots. And Luna’s ridiculous seances every full moon.

You stifle a chuckle. No need to bring on Mark’s wrath any sooner than necessary.

And then, newer memories begin to play and a lump rises in your throat. These ones aren’t supposed to be tinged with melancholy. These are supposed to be the memories of starting over. The memories from after you are safe.

You swallow hard.

The flight had already taken a lot out of you. This was just the cherry on top of a totally stressful, life changing ice cream sundae. At least this coffee shop seemed safe and warm while you tried to figure out if you were going to be homeless or not.

Seoyun, the barista, had been kind enough to give you the WiFi password so looking up your address shouldn’t be too difficult. Still, you lowered your head down on the table with a sigh of defeat. Seoul was so confusing.

“Oh, I know that look,” a voice sounds above you. Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing, already distrustful of a friendly stranger in the heart of South Korea. He smiles at you and his perfect rows of white teeth are so familiar, you already feel your tense muscles uncoiling. He presses on, “it’s not your first day in Seoul, is it?”

You glance at your luggage and back at him, remembering Lauren’s texts to go find BTS. As if the butt of some cosmic joke, it seems that they have found you instead.

You roll your eyes at him, “what gave it away?”

He glances down at your luggage too and laughs. You study his face carefully so you see the exact moment he makes a decision that will alter the course of both your lives.

His hands are full with two trays of coffee and he shoves them down on your table without asking. You raise an eyebrow at him, not really surprised by his boldness but somehow taken aback all the same, but he only flashes his brilliant smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. He sits down.

“You look like you don’t trust yourself to breathe. Like you’re trapped in your own brain or something,” he comments.

You lean forward, reminding yourself to calm the flare of annoyance rising in your chest before you speak. “Jimin,” you say evenly, “do you think you can just sit here with a complete stranger, flirt with her a little bit, and she’ll open up with her whole life story?”

“It’s always worked before,” he chirps back, batting his eyes, that same heart melting grin never wavering. But you see it there behind his gaze. No one has ever called him out on this before and you smile.

“I sincerely doubt that…” you say, trailing off as his hand darts out for the phone you’ve left on the table. You gasp, your reflexes too slow to catch him now, and he giggles swiping through as many un-password protected screens as he can.

“Well, I sincerely doubt that you know where you’re going since you’re sitting in a random coffee shop with all your luggage so, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ve decided to help you find your way,” he says, handing the phone back and gesturing for you to unlock it for him.

Your insides are screaming not to do it. You have to keep a low profile or starting over is going to fail but the earnest look in his eye has you wavering. With a sigh, you unlock the phone and you feel it deep in your gut, everything is over before it’s even begun.

It didn’t really matter what Mark was doing to torture you, just that he was and the pain was excruciating. You had heard a rumor once that after a certain point, the body would stop responding to pain but you were sure now that that was a lie. This was endless.

Your eyes start to roll back when Mark claps in front of your face again. You blink back into focus and your whole body is screaming for relief. He’s looking at you like you should say something to him but you can’t speak, the gag still firmly in your mouth, muffling all your screams.

“Can’t have you dozing off, my favorite little writer, you’ll miss the best part!”

You quirk an eyebrow, inviting him to give his little villain’s speech. He obviously wants to follow the soap opera script so you might as well let him follow it to its natural conclusion. He grins, tracing your jaw line with something icy cold. A knife?

No, you tell yourself, don’t think about that.

“You’re probably thinking how cliche this all must be. The hospital disguise. The hiding in plain sight. You’re probably even thinking that since we stayed in the hospital, it’s inevitable that I will get caught. Which is true. The question is if it will happen before or after I kill you,” he says, “And maybe the more important question is this: why did Mark do this to the thing that makes him all his money?”

The thing? You would spit on him if there weren’t a gag in your mouth.

He leans close, his eyes boring into yours. “And the answer is really quite simple. You disgust me. You think you’re so talented and so clever. Everyone adores you and bends over backwards to care for you and what do you really need protection from? Your big, bad manager and publisher?”

He’s going to keep ranting, you know it, and you don’t want the short time you have left to be spent listening to this tirade. They say it’s normal to disassociate under trauma and so you do, falling into your memories again.

Namjoon had warned you about Yoongi before you even stepped foot in the studio. It still wasn’t enough to stop the way your heart dropped down into your stomach when you caught a glimpse of him in the hallway.

You had told him after the fact that you didn’t remember this moment but the truth of the matter was, it was impossible to erase this memory from your mind. With all the steel you could muster, you met his gaze. Dark, critical eyes stared back at you, soft pink lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line.

You offered a gentle smile like it was an olive branch, your knees wobbling while you waited for him to roll his eyes or storm away. But his eyes only widened, those annoyed lips parting in a small ‘o’, color rushing up to dust his round cheeks.

It made your knees knock together and you ducked your head. What was that? Forget it. If he was going to refuse to meet you, you weren’t going to waste feelings over it.

The next memory spills into recollection almost on top of this one.

Would it be okay if I came and listened to what you’re working on? you texted Namjoon.

Jungkook and Hobi were arguing about who got to be Luigi in the next race. You chuckled to yourself, amazed for the billionth time that you had somehow been invited to hang out with these boys again. You had already known they were incredible but actually interacting with them was overwhelming. They were as wonderful as they had always seemed from afar.

Even, you thought, Yoongi. He had extended a truce but he was still frustrating to no end. What did he mean you could never be friends? He was obviously capable of being friendly and you knew the way he cared for and protected his group members. It shouldn’t sting so much that he didn’t want to be YOUR friend but what could you do?

“Y/n, I curated a meme just for you,” Tae whispers from his place beside you on the couch and you startle when he pushes his phone into your hands.

“What the hell, Tae?” you burst out laughing, trying to make sense of the chaotic picture before you. He starts laughing too, satisfied by your reaction and takes his phone back. You punch his arm lightly and mutter, “you’re so weird.”

Let me ask Yoongi, your phone chimes. Your stomach surges with some feeling you don’t understand. You remind yourself that you’re just going to hang out with Joon. This has nothing to do with Yoongi and yet…

How is he supposed to become your friend if you let him keep avoiding you?

He says you can’t talk but you can come in.

You’re out of your seat before you have time to think about it more. The boys look up at you in surprise and you announce that you’re gonna hang out with Namjoon a bit before you challenge them to Mario Kart. The look of fear in Jungkook’s eyes sends you into another fit of laughter and you pat his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Kookie, winning isn’t everything!”

“Yes it is!” he groans as you walk away.

In the studio, your stomach starts to dance again. Yoongi doesn’t look up from the scratch paper he’s scribbling on but you can see the way his fingers tighten around his pen. He is as aware of your presence as you are of his. When Namjoon points to the spot on the couch beside him, it takes all your concentration not to trip over your own feet.

You scold yourself for this silly behavior. There are more adoring members of this kpop group to be mooning over. Mooning over? You are NOT mooning over Yoongi. Who said that? Not you.

Anyway, whatever it is you’re feeling, Yoongi has done nothing to deserve it. So why do your eyes keep landing on him as you survey the room?

“I don’t like that lyric there,” Namjoon says, “maybe we should move it down into the second verse.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but it’s softened by the small smile playing at his lips. He and Namjoon must have been going back and forth over these lines for quite some time. You watch as he scribbles out the words and moves them lower down the page.

His eyes meet yours and the hairs rise on the back of your arms. He doesn’t look upset that you’re there and that’s almost more unsettling than him insulting you. You press your lips together and search for anywhere in the room to look but him.

The phone in your lap will have to provide distraction enough. You pick it up and fiddle around between home screens but there’s nothing as interesting there as what’s happening before you so you listen in on the lyrics they’re crafting while you pretend to text the girls.

Of course, when you find out the song is for E.L. Penn, you spiral. You knew your worlds were going to collide if you stuck around long enough. It’s never been a secret to you that Namjoon was a fan of her work — your work — or that they would have worked with her on the movie if she hadn’t gone on hiatus.

But you are just an English teacher in Seoul and not the recipient of this song that is making your heart hurt. You can’t believe Mark would hack into your Twitter account just to set this in motion without you. He’s trying to push your buttons and it’s working.

So you do the only thing you can. You call Lauren.

When you return to the studio, Namjoon is gone. You knew he would be since he passed you in the hall while you were still on the phone. Yoongi looks up at you in surprise but you only offer a curt nod before beelining for your spot on the couch.

The tears spill out before you can help it and your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi. You feel stupid as you read his stupid question through blurred vision. You respond sardonically and toss your phone onto the couch.

When he tells you you’re killing the vibe, you almost launch to your feet and run out of the room but Yoongi stops you. You stare at him, mouth gaping open like a fish.

“You want to what?” you ask, wondering if he’ll scold you for talking out loud to him.

He reaches for his guitar instead, a sleek, black stained acoustic that you’ve seen in several lives from before you actually knew him. He strums the chords lightly, the sweet sounds discordant in the small space. You blink at him.

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he says vaguely, “I’m just curious what you think.”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. He frowns at you, his lips puckering and little dimples appearing in the corners of his cheeks.

“Just be quiet and listen, okay?” he asks it like a question but you know he’s giving a command.

You smile at him a little too sweetly and then settle back into the couch, pulling your legs up to your chest, so you can rest your chin on your knees as he starts to strum. He rolls his eyes at you but there’s a smile in them that you’ve never seen directed at you before.

Your stomach makes that weird lurch again and you finally resign yourself to what you are feeling. Butterflies. Min Yoongi is giving you butterflies.

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Four: Lies

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: brief mention of blood, allusions to an abusive household/family, mention of child custody battle, 80s typical misogyny, cursing.

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

I Believe In Love Masterlist

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-—-—-—-

He'd lied. You read the name over and over again, the crumpled letter shaking in your hands. Lorenzano. Lorenzano. Lorenzano. He wasn't Max Lord, he was Maxwell Lorenzano and you had no idea how he could lie to you - or better yet, why he would lie to you? There was a reason for everything. You might’ve been new to the world of man, and you might not yet understand their conditions and way of life, but it didn’t change the fact that this hurt. He was your first friend - your first real friend who wasn’t a child. He accepted you into his home, and he even believed you when you told him who you are. You had opened up about being a literal goddess from the secret haven Themyscira, and he hadn’t even told you his real name.

And then, your visions of him… memories and dreams… they hit you one by one. Now you could finally put a face to the voice that had been haunting you. He was the child you saw when you had fallen asleep in Black Gold Cooperative, the child who was getting bullied for the clothes he wore, and his shoes. You felt foolish not realising it sooner. The image of ‘Little Lorenzano’ getting tormented perfectly paralleled the way Alistair had gotten cornered in the park earlier today. Your heart ached for them both.

Max Lord was clearly putting on a brave face in front of you. But now that you knew who he really was, you knew that he was deeply hurting, and he needed your help. He might not realise it, but this is why you were here. You’d come to the world of man to fulfil your duty as the Goddess of Home and Hearth for a reason and Zeus had deliberately connected you with Alistair and Maxwell. This was your purpose. They were your purpose.

You smoothed out the letter to the best of your ability, deciding that if you were to help him, you should probably read it. You had hope that it would help you understand things and allow you to piece together the puzzle. You glanced back at the speckles of his blood in the sink, and the smashed vase on the floor. Whatever was in this letter had clearly angered him.

I, Theodore Thomas IV, share a bond with Miss Grey and recognise that she is a caring and devoted mother. We are in full belief that Alistair Lorenzano would be better off, in the care of his biological mother.

A bond. You were quickly able to identify that Julianna Grey was the mother of Alistiar, although the bond between she and Theodore Thomas IV had not yet become clear to you. Your heart would usually find warmth in the revelation that Julianna was, in fact a ‘caring and devoted’ mother, but instead it grew cold. As the goddess of home and hearth, you could sense the lie in his words. You wanted to believe that Julianna was a good mother, but your intuition said otherwise. These were your powers - and there was no way you were wrong about this. Despite the immediate concern you had for Allistair, you pushed the feeling to the back of your brain and forced yourself to continue reading the letter.

Mr Maxwell Lorenzano and Miss Julianna Grey divorced on the seventh month of 1980 after being married for two years. Miss Grey notes that their relationship was strained since the beginning, with Mr Lorenzano too preoccupied with his career to focus on his family.

Marriage - Max and Julianna were married. It was something you had read about back on Themyscira when you had spent time educating yourself on the ‘way of man’. Marriage was, supposedly, a sacred ritual that joined together the spirits of two people in the name of love. And love was the fundamental principle that would create a family. At the core of a family, was love, and that was the most important thing. Your eyes flicked back up the final sentence of the first paragraph; “We are in full belief that Alistair Lorenzano would be better off, in the care of his biological mother.” You couldn’t help but shake your head profusely. These people wanted to take Alistair away from Max? There was no way. Theodore may think that Julianna deserves Alisitair, but it was never going to be about ‘deserve’. It could only be about love. And you knew for certain that Maxwell loved Alistair with his whole heart.

I have known Miss Grey since 1980, after working on her and Mr Lorenzano’s divorce case. As not only her partner, but also a trusted lawyer of our capitol’s legal enforcement, I can whole-heartedly ensure that sole custody of Alistair Lorenzano must be granted to Miss Julianna Grey.

Divorce was something you weren’t so familiar with, and you figured it should be something you ask Maxwell about at a later date. It was at this moment you learned that Theodore was Julianna’s partner, lover, even. No wonder he thought so highly of her. There was no question about it. You knew you had to pay Julianna and Theodore a visit to see for yourself. You had to see the truth.

Please find us at the District Columbia Court, D.C., in one week from the date stated on the letter. If you make no effort to show and fight your case, you will be banished from seeing Alistair until he turns eighteen years of age.

Banishment? The thought of splitting up Max and Alistair filled you with the most excruciating pain. You couldn’t let this happen. You wouldn’t let this happen.

Sincerely,

Ted

So Theodore was Ted and Maxwell was Max. If you had known that names in the world of man could fluctuate so much, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten mad so mad at Max for lying about his name. After catching the address on the envelope, you engrained it in your memory and carefully folded up the letter and placed it in the pocket of the Maxwell’s pinstripe shirt that he had given you to wear. Now you just had to figure out a way to get to the address on the letter.

You spent some time sweeping up the shattered glass on the floor, and cleaned up the sink before padding back into the living room and sliding your feet back into your gladiator sandals, buckling them up. You even picked up the lasso of truth and tied it around your waist so it acted like a makeshift belt on you. There was no way you were going to leave it behind. You took another look at the photo frame that was on the small table next to the couch and picked it up. You smiled as you felt the exact same love that Maxwell felt when he was in the photo, holding baby Alistair. Just looking at the family portrait filled you with so much joy. You knew that Max’s love for his son was genuine.

Turning the frame over, you opened it up and took the glossy polaroid out, placing it in the same pocket of your shirt. You loved the photo and you wanted to take it wherever you went.

It was cold outside, and the sky was a deep shade of blue. There was definitely a draft, and you wondered if you should’ve changed back into your Amazonian warrior gear. The oversized shirt that Maxwell had given you, as well as the gladiator sandals, didn’t really provide you with the greatest amount of warmth. You weren’t even wearing anything on your legs.

A small old lady with a zimmer frame was walking down the street. “Oh wow!” she exclaimed, looking you up and down, presumably judging your outfit of choice. “You have very nice legs, but aren’t you cold?”

You looked down at your legs, noticing the goose pimples, and nodded in confirmation. “Yes, but I’ll be okay. Do you think you could help me with something?” you asked curiously, watching as she raised her eyebrows.

“Me? Help you? What could little old me-”

You took the letter out of your pocket and pointed to the address. “How do I get here?”

She adjusted her glasses and squinted. “Thomas Family Lawyers,” she read out loud, before turning back to you. “Honey, this law firm is on the other side of Georgetown. You best call a cabbie, especially this late in the evening.”

“A cabbie?” you asked, shivering in the cold. “I’m sorry… I’m not from round here.” you shrugged helplessly.

“Let me help you.” the old lady said, reaching into her purse and bringing out an enormous 1984 brick-like cell phone. The contraption shocked you, and you even wondered how she had fit it in her bag. She pulled out the antenna and began to dial a number. “Hi, could I get a pre-paid taxi to Thomas Family Law Firm, Georgetown? Thank you,” She put the phone back in her purse and offered you a smile. “A cab won’t be long. I’m Mrs Stagg, by the way. Might I enquire… why are you going to a family law firm when you’re not even from the area?”

“To help a friend.” you returned the smile.

“Does your friend live in this neighbourhood?”

“He does. Um… his name is Max Lord?” you explained but the way it left your lips made it sound more like a question. Lord? Lorenzano? What difference did it make?

“Ah,” was the small sound that emitted from Mrs Stagg’s throat. “Max Lord, the oil guy. My son Simon is- was an investor for Maxwell’s company. From what I heard, the company is bust. A joke. Max Lord has been scamming the entire nation for years.”

“Scamming?” you asked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Black Gold Cooperative have shares in oil fields all around the world, only, the oil fields have completely dried up, you know - with the Cold War and all. But he kept going… kept making those silly infomercials and selling his dream. ‘Anything you want, you can have it.’ or something like that.” Mrs Stagg scoffed, shaking her head incredulously. You recognised the quote from when you had seen him all suited up on the television.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would he lie to the whole country?” you beckoned further, despite the conversation bringing you some uncomfort. Max had seemed like a genuinely good guy and a loving father up until this point.

“For money, I suppose. That’s all it’s ever about with folk like him. Money. I chastise my son for it too. He’s the CEO of Stagg Industries and the only reason I could live in such a beautiful neighbourhood like this one. He bought my home here,” she beamed proudly. “But, I don’t know much about Max Lord. Don’t really see him around on the streets either. He must be cooped up in his office most of the time. Hey, you’re his friend. Maybe you should ask him why he’s nothing but a low-life conman.”

Her words stung, and they weren’t even about you. You were completely lost for words, and surprised that she had so much hate in her heart for Max. Granted, if he was rivals with her son, it would make sense, but she did raise many questions that concerned you greatly. When the taxi pulled up, she paid the driver and helped you into the passenger seat. “I don’t know Max Lord,” she whispered from the other side of the car door. “But please darling, be careful.” She warned you before the cabbie whisked you away.

Your concept of time was slightly askew, but you figured the journey to the law firm lasted twice as long as the journey from Black Gold to Max’s home. You looked out the window taking in the stunning city at night. The buildings were all lit up and reflected against the windows, creating a glitter in your eye. There was nothing like this on Themyscira. No tall skyscrapers, no enormous shopping malls or company buildings. D.C. was booming, and it was beautiful. The journey allowed you to process Mrs Stagg’s words and think even more about Max. Clearly, both Julianna and Theodore had their reasons not to like Maxwell, and now, so did Mrs Stagg and her son Simon. You had to speak to Max and confront him. You knew there was more to him than what meets the eye.

Thomas Family Lawyer’s was a big building, not as big as Black Gold Cooperative, but it was still big. Just as you went through the revolving doors (which you had now grown accustomed to, due to your time spent and Max’s office) a group of girls began to file out. Whilst Raquel had been somewhat confused by your presence, these girls shot you the most evil of stares.

“Do you know what time it is? Office hours are closed. Why are you here?” One girl with sleek black hair spat coldly. You practically winced at the malice in her voice.

“Oh, I’m here to see Theodore Thomas?” you said slowly, nervously biting your lip.

“Who are you?” quizzed the same ebony haired girl.

“I’m a friend of Max Lord.” was the only thing you could come out with. Maxwell had warned you to refrain from identifying yourself as the ‘goddess of home and hearth’ in front of the public. He told you that people won’t believe him like he does, and that they’ll think you’re crazy. You had no choice but to believe him.

“Max Lord!” a red haired girl gasped, and a shorter blonde girl slapped her hand over the redhead’s mouth. “Sorry,” the redhead muffled as the blonde girl removed her hand. “He’s just so sexy.”

“But you know we’re not supposed to like him.” The blonde girl hissed.

“Huh?” you asked, knotting your eyebrows together. “Not supposed to?”

The ebony haired girl let out a longing groan. “Will the both of you just shut up?” she grimaced, glaring at the other two girls before looking back at you with that same mean stare. “Turn left, his office is the big one at the bottom of the corridor. You’re lucky he’s working late tonight.”

“Yeah, on his girlfriend’s case.” The redhead said weakly.

“Can you not keep your mouth shut?” Snapped the black haired girl. “Why would you say that in front of this hobo stranger when she’s just said she’s Max Lord’s friend. She doesn’t need to know that Mr Thomas is working on the custody case! It’s a wonder he hasn’t fired you yet for being so stupid.”

You had zoned out of the pointless conversation about mid-way through anyway. Those girls were nothing but rude to each other anyway. You slipped past them and down the corridor until you reached two double doors, not hesitating for a second to open them up.

There, with his head buried down into a pile of papers, was a dark haired man in a tight fitted suit. He abruptly looked up when you had entered his office, his mustache wavering in bewilderment as he took in the appearance of a girl who was wearing nothing but an oversized button up shirt and brown strapped gladiator sandals. “C-can I help you?” he gulped, relishing the sight of his body like it was the sweetest view he’d ever come across. You crossed your bare legs together awkwardly, feeling slightly vulnerable by the way he was staring at you.

“Are you Theodore Thomas IV?” you asked.

“I am.” the dark haired man confirmed, shuffling around in his leather seat.

You nodded, turning around to close the double doors behind you and walking over to his desk. You took out the crumpled up letter that had been addressed to Maxwell Lorenzano and slid it over the expensive oak wood. “What is this?” you questioned. Theodore took out his reading glasses before analysing it.

“Where did you get this letter?”

“Max Lord is my friend.” you gulped, folding your arms over your chest. “And this letter…”

“You mean Maxwell Lorenzano?” Theodore scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Listen, I’m not here to discuss that low-life loser, okay? I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

“So do I.” you persisted. “This letter…”

“Unless you’re his lawyer, and I doubt you are,” he snarled, looking at you up and down with the utmost disdain. “I will not be discussing the letter with you. Friend or not, it’s confidential.”

“I’m here to help him.” you gritted out, unable to believe the anger that dripped from your own tongue. It was true, you were angry. You were angry at the way everyone was so against Maxwell Lord, and you were angry at the fact the reason remained so unclear. Every new person you met didn’t like him, and you just wanted to know why.

Your words did pique the curiosity of Theodore, however. He raised an eyebrow and leaned over his desk, his gaze not breaking from you once. “Help him? You mean, you’ll be representing him in court?” You weren’t sure what that meant, but you nodded your head. If this was the only way you could get information out of Theodore Thomas IV, then so be it. “Do you even have any legal experience?”

“What? No. I told you, I’m just his friend.”

Theodore let out a boisterous laugh, the level of volume making you flinch. “Shit, he can’t even afford his own lawyer. I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he assumed. “Excuse me for one second.” he pointed a finger and dialled a number on the telephone.

Meanwhile, Maxwell was Julianna’s home. When Alistair heard his dad’s voice, he came running downstairs to greet him. “Daddy!” he called excitedly, running into his father’s arms. “You came back!” Maxwell picked up Alistair and spun him around, pressing a loving kiss to his son’s forehead.

“What do you want Maxwell?” Julianna sighed, tapping her foot impatiently against the marble floor of the lobby.

“To talk,” Max answered, placing Alistair back down on the floor. “Just us two. Uh- is Ted here?”

“Lucky for you he’s working late at the firm. Working on our damn case,” Julianna shook her head before turning to face her son. “Alistair, go to your room.” she commanded.

“But I want to see daddy!” Alistair cried, tears pricking his dark brown eyes.

“He can stay.” Maxwell negotiated but the comment was completely lost on Julianna.

“Go. To. Your. Room.” Julianna barked angrily, which sent a frightened Alistair running back to his bedroom.

“Shit Julianna, he’s just a kid. No need to talk to him like that.” Maxwell frowned, his ex-wife’s tone reminding him of his own father’s.

“Now Maxwell, I know you’re not giving me parenting advice, are you?” she asked sarcastically. Maxwell noted how bitter she had become, or perhaps, how bitter she always was. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about the case. Try and change my mind. Well, you can’t.”

“Julianna, I know things have been rough between us since the divorce but I just want what’s best for Alistair. I love him so much.” Maxwell revealed.

“Bullshit!” Julianna scowled. “All you do, Max, is speak bullshit. You want what’s best for him? You’ll allow me and Ted to have full custody of Alistair. You’re a shit father and you know it.”

“I know- I know I’m messed up. I mean, I’ve messed up in the past but, something happened. Something inside me woke up and I’m ready to step up Julianna. I’ve changed, please just believe me. I love Ali-”

“You don’t deserve him,” Julianna growled. “You know what Maxwell? You’re nothing but a deadbeat. Just like your father was.”

Maxwell felt his face turn red with rage at his ex-wife's comment. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles had even turned white. “I am nothing like my father!” Maxwell yelled defensively as the anger bubbled within him. He wanted to cry. Every time a memory of his own abusive father came up, it made Max want to curl up into a whole and cry. It broke him.

Before Julianna could reply, the phone on the wall began to ring. Julianna answered it.

“Hey, Julie?” Theodore was on the line, still laughing from his talk with you. “Baby, you won’t believe this.”

“What is it?” Julianna asked hesitantly, twirling the wire of the phone around her finger.

“Some girl- some half naked girl is here- in my office claiming to be a friend of Maxwell,” Theodore spluttered. You frowned at his tone of voice as he talked about you, right in front of you. Julianna turned to Maxwell in bewilderment, who was just standing there and had no idea what was going on. “She’s saying she’s going to represent him during the custody trial.”

“What?” Julianna spat. “Who the fuck is she?”

“I don’t know! Never seen her in my life. Pretty little thing though, I guessed maybe he’s fucking her? Not sure. She says she’s living with him.”

“Living-” Julianna couldn’t help but repeat her boyfriend’s words. “Teddy, Maxwell is here. Right now. Can you come home and… bring her with you? I want to have words with her.”

“Got it. See you soon sweetie.” Theodore finished before hanging up the phone.

Julianna turned to Max. “That was Theodore. He says some half naked girl has shown up to his office claiming to be a friend of yours.”

Maxwell’s eyes went comically wide as his greatest fears became realised. “What? No, no- there’s no way. That’s impossible. I told her to stay at home- how the hell did she get to Thomas Family Lawyer’s?”

“You’re asking me?” Julianna gasped in disbelief. “Who the hell is she, Max?”

Max was so confused and shocked, he couldn’t even find words. If you had found your way to Theodore’s office, that meant you had read the letter. It also meant that you knew his name. And finally, it meant that you had completely invaded your privacy. Part of Maxwell was mad, but an even bigger part of him was confused as to how you ended up on the other side of Georgetown in the office of his ex-wife’s current boyfriend. You weren’t even from round here, hell, you’d only gotten into a car for the first time today. Julianna and Theodore weren’t the only ones who had a thousand questions. Maxwell did too.

When you arrived at the Thomas family home, you looked at it with complete adoration, just like how you looked at Maxwell’s home. It was extensive in size, with beautiful pillars and adorned with flowers on every corner. Maxwell and Julianna were waiting for you and Ted in the dining room. Ted hung up his suit jacket on the coat peg in the lobby and you slowly followed him into the dining room. Unlike Maxwell’s home, which was covered with photographs of Alistair, you couldn’t spot a single picture of the bright eyed child in any of the rooms you passed. You wondered why.

When you entered the room, Julianna’s and Maxwell’s jaws both dropped in unison. “She’s wearing your shirt!” Julianna screeched, pointing her finger accusingly at you.

“Yeah? So fucking what?” Maxwell shot back. “I didn’t realise you can police my wardrobe now!”

Your gaze flicked between Maxwell and Julianna who were already arguing with each other. "Can we settle down?" Theodore intervened, placing his briefcase down on the table.

Maxwell turned to you and took a deep breath. "Why- why didn't you put on some clothes before you left the house?" he sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his composure.

"I- I didn't have any clothes and. I didn't know if it was normal to dress like this in the world of man." you admitted sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that you'd made a fool of yourself and seemingly Maxwell too.

"The world of what?" Julianna scrunched up her nose. "She has no clothes? Maxwell, where did you pick this whore up?"

You stiffened up at her harsh words and Maxwell's dark eyes snapped open. "Don't call her that," he warned. "She's… different. Look, I can't explain now but-"

Julianna turned to Theodore. "I want her out of my house. She's a fucking prostitute."

"She's not a prostitute," Maxwell sighed, running his fingers through his dark blonde hair as the stress engulfed him. "She's just a friend."

"I want her out." Julianna reiterated, her voice like venom.

"I- I can wait by the car," you told Maxwell timidly. He didn't reply, instead just putting his head in his hands. You turned to Julianna and Theodore. "I apologise for any intrusion I may have brought upon you both." you said before walking away.

Even before you got to the front door, you'd heard them start fighting again. Maxwell wasn't yelling, but Julianna was so loud and accusing. You couldn't help but feel like she brought around such a toxic environment.

As you leaned against Maxwell's car, you looked up at the upstairs window. It was illuminated, signifying that the light was on. It was so cold and you couldn't help but sigh as you waited for your friend to return and take you home— if he still liked you, that is. After everything that had gone on, you wouldn't be surprised if he just left you on a street corner to fend for yourself.

You were delighted when you saw Alistair in the illuminated window. He poked his head around the curtains, smiling and waving immediately when he saw you. You grinned back, thankful to see the sweet boy and to know that he was okay. The smile on his face dropped and although you couldn't hear what was going on back in the house, you could tell by his expression that there was something wrong. Alistair disappeared from the curtains and you began to untie the lasso of Hestia from your waist. Swinging the rope around in the air, you attached it to Alistair's balcony and swung yourself up to the third storey of the Thomas family home. You quietly tapped on his window. After only a few seconds Alistair returned and let you in.

You clambered back into the house, finding yourself in the little boys bedroom. "Hey Alistair, how you doing?" you smiled, kneeling down and giving your friend a hug.

"I'm good, I'm so glad to see you again!" Alistair confessed with a toothy grin. "How did you get up here?" Alistair asked curiously, stepping out onto the balcony and looking at the long way down from where you had been standing by his father's car.

You gulped. "Can you keep a secret?" you whispered. Alistair nodded enthusiastically. "Okay." you showed Alistair your lasso, and he watched it with bright eyes as it glowed gold. If you could trust Max, you knew for a fact you could certainly trust Alistair. After all, they were your purpose. They were the reason you had found yourself in the world of man.

"Whoa, what is it?" Alistair asked, pointing his finger hesitantly, as if he wanted to touch it but not sure if it would hurt him.

"It's magical," you revealed. "My mother Hestia gave me it. It lets people see the truth, and speak the truth. It knows when you're lying."

"...And it helps you climb up really tall buildings? Like Spiderman?" Alistair asked with wide eyes.

You giggled. "Yes."

"Can I try?" Alistair beckoned further.

"Maybe one day," you promised him. "It can be difficult to learn, but I'd love to teach you."

You and Alistair both gasped as you listened in on what was going downstairs. You heard footsteps, and it sounded like Max was leaving. You rose to your feet and approached the window again, unravelling your lasso. "Hey, I have to go now. Listen, you can't tell Julianna or Ted that I was up here, okay? I don't think they like me."

"Oh, they don't like anyone who's associated with daddy." Alistair frowned, but nodded understandingly. "Are you going home with daddy?"

"I hope so." you replied, because there was really no way of telling where you stood with Maxwell at this point in time.

"Good," Alistair beamed, and in that moment, you recognised his smile to be the spitting double of his father's. "Because I like it when you're around daddy. He's not as miserable."

You tilted your head but had no time to question Alistair because you heard the front door open. Swinging back on your lasso, you attached it to the branch of a tree and dropped back down to the front of the porch where Maxwell's car was parked. Wrapping your lasso back around your waist, you pretended like you hadn't moved from the car— like you had been waiting for him this entire time.

"Good night!" Maxwell called but earned no response, only the slam of the front door. He sighed deeply and slumped his shoulders in defeat before turning to face you. His lips were curled into a frown and he shook his head as he approached you, sliding past you and unlocking the car door. "Get in." he told you, to which you obliged and slipped into the passenger seat.

Maxwell dropped his head to the wheel of the car in frustration. He wanted to scream. Cry. Yell. Curse. He hated this. He hated having to fight for what was already his. He needed Alistair— his life would be empty without his son. There was no question about it. And unfortunately for Max, he was beginning to lose all hope.

"Are you okay?" You asked, feeling as though the question was a stupid one considering the disheveled look on Maxwell's face. You placed a hand on his back with full intention to be comforting. He didn't reply. After a few seconds of silence, you heard his sobs. You heard his whimpers and chokes. "Oh Max." you whispered quietly, rubbing his back.

"I can't— I can't fucking do this," Maxwell cried, tears dripping down his cheeks and falling onto the steering wheel. "They're right— what they say about me— they're all right. I'm a monster."

You winced, shaking your head at his comment. "You are not a monster." you assured him.

"You don't even know me," Maxwell huffed before glaring at you, the tears still falling. "You're just— you're just some random girl who came into my life at the wrong fucking time and— I don't even know why you're here. Why are you here?" He said your name like it was poison and the desperation in his voice was enough to make your heart ache.

You swallowed. "When I found out your name, your real name, I knew for certain… Zeus brought me to you and Alistair for a reason. Everything is so clear now. Max, I'm here to help you."

"I'm screwed— we’re screwed. It's pointless. There's nothing we can do. We can't go up against them. Julianna is a fucking psycho and Ted is one of the best family lawyers in the state—"

"And I'm the daughter of Zeus and Hestia. I'm the Goddess of Home and Hearth and I will not let them rip you away from Alistair." you promised with pure determination in your voice. The change of your tone was enough to make Maxwell stop crying and look up to you like you were his saviour. His angel. And despite everything that happened, despite the feeling of complete hopelessness, he believed you.

The war began now.

-—-—-—-

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #max lord x reader #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal smut

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angstysebfan · 3 years

Note

Ok a request? Lemme think! Hmmmm, ok. How about “reader and Seb have been dating for a while but Seb is getting a little distant. Reader overhears a conversation Seb has with Mackie about all these nasty things about her, it breaks reader’s heart and it makes her go home and move back to her old apartment. She confides in her best friend, Tom Hiddleston, and he helps her boost her self esteem and with having fun again, like a good friend. When Seb finds out, he becomes a jelly boi, confronts them when he sees pictures of them together and Hiddleston isn’t having it.” You can do whatever with the ending. I trust you ❤️

Oh boy this one is going to hurt me. Even though a lot of people are mad at Seb and he has been acting like a douche canoe, I still love him...

Is It Too Late?

You lie on your bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. A lot of different things going through your mind at once, and all of them about your current relationship. You have been dating Sebastian for about 3 years, and for most of it, it has been absolutely amazing. He has an actor and have to travel the world to film, while you are just your everyday average girl, but you both always made it work. You met him through your best friend, Tom Hiddleston, who is also an actor.

You noticed over the last 5-6 months, Seb has been very distant. You don’t understand what happened, but you are worried that he might be losing interest in you, or cheating. I mean when you compare yourself to the women he had before, and the ones that throw themselves at him, you could understand why you don’t measure up.

With a sigh, you get up from the bed to go in search of your boyfriend. Maybe he doesn’t realize what he is doing, and with a little heart to heart, things will get better, hopefully. You go to walk into his office when you hear him laugh and speak in hushed tones. You peek in and see that he is on the phone and go to step away when you overhear what he says, “I don’t know Anthony, I’m just over her. She is so needy and whiny. I mean if she was gorgeous I would ignore it, but she isn’t. I just don’t think I can handle this with her anymore, ya know?” he says.

You cover your mouth with your hand, in hopes of covering up the gasp. Tears immediately form in your eyes as you turn and run back into the bedroom. You force yourself to calm down after letting a few tears fall. You quickly grab your suitcase and start clearing your things out of the apartment. Seb continues his conversation, not realizing what is happening. Once you are done collecting everything, you put it all by the door for a quick escape.

You walk into the office, as Seb is still on the phone. You stand in front of him with your arms crossed, looking none too pleased. Seb looks at you with furrowed brows of confusion. “Hey Anthony, let me call you back,” he says before hanging up. “What’s wrong?” he asks innocently. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, “I just wanted to say goodbye,” you say.

His eyebrows shoot up in shock, “Goodbye? Goodbye as in you are going out and will be back later, or goodbye as in goodbye?” he asks standing up. You look into his blue eyes and see an expression you haven’t seen in awhile, nervousness. “Goodbye as in... I don’t know. I have to think about things and I think it’s better if I’m away from you,” you say.

You are proud of how strong your sounding, considering you are falling apart inside. Sebastian walks around his desk, “Is everything ok?” he asks softly, reaching out to you. You step away from his hand, which you see shocks him again. “I just think you need more than a needy, whiny ugly girlfriend, so maybe we should just call this what it is. You have been distant for awhile and it’s obvious you fell out of love with me, so I am giving you your out,” you say as tears form.

“I-- No, Y/N, wait please! Let me explain, please!” Seb pleads with you as you back away from him. “I heard you. I don’t need you to make up some stupid ass lie or excuse. I’m leaving,” you say as you turn around. Seb follows you out to his front door, begging you to stop and listen to him. You pick up your stuff and without sparing a glance you walk out of his apartment.

It’s been a few days since you went back to your old apartment. Everything that you brought from Sebastian’s continues to sit by your front door where you dropped them. He has called you multiple times, along with millions of texts, all that you have ignored. When your phone rings again, you go to throw it when you see it is not Sebastian who is calling, but Tom.

“Tom?” you answer through your tears. It takes no time for him to come to your apartment and hold you while you cry. He packed a bag to stay with you for as long as you need him, and while you finally fall asleep, he starts to clean your apartment and order your favorite food. He calls Sebastian to give him a piece of his mind as well. The conversation is short and to the point, and it finally makes Sebastian stop reaching out to you.

Over the next several days, Tom holds you while you sleep, and constantly tells you how amazing, and beautiful you are. You have a hard time believing him, though, but he just keeps reassuring you. It takes awhile, but he finally gets you to smile and laugh again, which feels really good. Over time you both start going out into the world and having fun, whether at bars, clubs, museums, or anywhere else that will put a smile on your face. You are so grateful for your best friend.

Seb sighs as he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. it’s been too long since you left, and he hasn’t been able to reach you. He thought giving you some space might calm you down enough so that you can talk. The hurt he saw in your eyes haunts his dreams, more like nightmares. Every night it’s the same thing; you leaving without him explaining that he wasn’t you he was talking about. He knows he became distant, but it wasn’t for what you thought. When Tom called him screaming, he tried to again explain, but Tom wouldn’t hear him out. He has tried to call Tom again, but he won’t answer his calls either.

He looks at the picture on his phone of you and Tom dancing together at the club. You never wanted to go to the club when you were with him, at least he didn’t think you did. He looks at how happy Tom makes you, and he wonders if Tom is keeping you away from him so he can be with you. Does he hold you tightly at night. Does he kiss your soft lips every day? Does he tell you that he loves you more than anything?

Seb reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out the velvet box. The reason he was distant was because he didn’t want to give away the surprise. He wanted to marry you, but now he has no way of telling you. Sebastian sighs and looks at the diamond ring before standing up. “Fuck this, I’m not giving up without a fight!” He says to himself before walking out of his apartment toward yours.

When you opened the door to frantic knocks, your heart and stomach dropped. There is a very disheveled and out of breath Sebastian. ��Y/N. I know you think I was talking about you, but I wasn’t. I’m so sorry I was distant from you, but it was because...” Sebastian got down on one knee causing you to gasp, “Y/N L/N I love you more than anything in the whole world. Will you please consider talking to me so I can explain and then hopefully marry me?” he asks as he shows you the big diamond.

At this point Tom walked into the room to see what was happening. “Let him have his say Y/N,” he says when he sees you hesitate. You turn and look at him for a moment before turning back toward Seb and nod. Sebastian released the breath he was holding and stood up, following you into your living room. He nods at Tom, who smirks and leaves you two alone.

“Seb, I know what I heard that day,” you say sadly, looking at your hands. Seb slowly put his hand on top of yours, seeing what your response was. When you didn’t pull back, he sat closer to you and continued to hold your hands, “Y/N, I know with me being distant, it sounded like I was talking about you, but I wasn’t. Anthony and I were talking about one of the crew on our show. She has a huge crush on me and is very needy and whiny around me. She tries to get my attention--” “So if she was gorgeous you would give her a chance?” you said sternly, interrupting him.

“No! That comment was a stupid inside joke that I regret immediately. She likes to tell everyone that she thinks everything is gorgeous, and she is gorgeous, so I said it to make fun of her. I want nothing to do with her. I only want you! I love you, Y/N! You’re it for me, baby! I want nothing more than to marry you and be with you forever,” he says.

You are crying at this point, not sure who to believe. “Y/N...” you hear Tom say. You turn and look at him, “I spoke with Anthony and he confirmed everything Sebastian said,” he says. Seb looked at Tom with a relieved and appreciative smile. You look at Seb, “Ask me,” you say. Seb’s breath hitches, “Are-are you sure?” he asks. You nod and he laughs, again getting down on one knee.

“Y/N, will you please put us out of the misery I caused and marry me?” he asks. You look at him and a smile slowly makes its way to your lips.

“Yes.”

Hope you liked it. I played with different version of the ending or how I wanted Seb to act, and this is how it worked out. lol

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#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #seb

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miraculousluvbug · 3 years

Text

WINGLESS | Ch. 5

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Plagg panics because Lila's the devil incarnate and Lila learns that Gabriel Agreste is far stupider than he seems.

Adrien fondly flicked through the pages of The Pun-thagorean Theorem (Making Math Funny!) textbook. Plumes of dust wafted up his nostrils, causing his eyes to squint and his mouth to contort into the longest face known to man to avoid a hacking fit, but he smiled afterward nonetheless. The book was withered beyond measure, sure, but within its decaying jacket, it held the fleeting whispers of a previous life. A life before his mother went missing. When she enjoyed teaching him math with puns and pieces of candy while his father clung to the confines of closed doors. When her jokes graced the halls and her smiles left behind a fog of golden joy in her wake.

Adrien’s heart thudded with longing.

But he was determined to push back the feelings he had kept buried deep, deep, deep within his heart. So deep that he often forgot they were even there until they reared their ugly heads like a Hydra from the deepest recesses of the sea. Every time he thought he dealt with it, thought he had cut off its head and could breathe for just a second, two heads sprouted in its stead, determined to grip him by the ankles with their jagged teeth and force him to drown in his debilitating lack of self-worth.

He shook his head violently, as if that could shed him of his intrusive thoughts.

Hopefully, this book would help Lila. And then she’d leave. And then he could skip the anime and just take a fat nap. Keeping the Hydra at bay was exhausting.

Correcting his posture, Adrien approached his classmate, noticing straight away she had moved to his desk chair. Odd. But he was willing to roll with it.

Ha. Get it? Desk chair. Roll with it.

He pursed his lips, trying to hold back his laughter at himself.

Kagami had called him a clown, but Ladybug, as it turned out, appreciated his sense of humor. And if Lady-friggin’-bug--Commander of Wit and Creative Mastermind--thought he was funny, he must have been a damn comedic prodigy.

Plagg recognized that love-struck look on Adrien’s face and had to physically restrain himself from making barf noises.

“Are you ready to start, Lila?” Adrien said. Oblivious to Adrien’s whereabouts, Lila started and spun to greet him. (Was he always that quiet on his feet?)

“Adrien! You found the book.”

“Yep! Why don’t you take a look at it before we start?” Adrien smiled as he passed the book to her.

Lila returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Adrien idly wondered if she had ever meant a smile in her life. She pinched the book between her thumb and forefinger as if it were a moldy sock. “Wow, Adrien, this book is so . . .”

A silence lingered as Lila racked her vocabulary for a word less insulting than crusty.

“Old?” Adrien offered, tilting his head.

Lila tittered unenthusiastically. “Yes, old.” She draped the book onto Adrien’s desk and poked at it. “How long have you, um, had it?”

“It’s been in the family a while.” Adrien hesitated. He didn’t really want to mention his mother to Lila. Lila was poisonous. She spun every piece of information she caught into a sticky web of lies like it was second nature. He didn’t know if he could stomach hearing lies about his mother.

So he bit down on the story of his mom before it could tumble from his lips. Even though he so badly wanted to tell anyone who would listen. His father never afforded him the opportunity to speak about her. His friends at school avoided the topic like the plague.

Come to think of it, Marinette was the only one of his friends who tried to help him see her movie that fateful day the press tried to pass her as his girlfriend. (Which he wouldn’t have minded, honestly, but she always seemed hellbent on them being just friends, so he accepted it.)

Ladybug, the other important person in his life, saw his mother on his desktop during that one akuma attack and commented on her smile. Those two girls (er--women? Which term was more respectful?) were the only people he truly felt safe around. Safe enough to turn his back on the Hydra he always kept a watchful, tired eye on and just enjoy the breeze of the ocean as it caressed his cheeks and messed up his perfect hair.

No, the subject of his mother wouldn’t scare them away. They could handle it.

But Lila was no Ladybug, and she definitely was no Marinette.

Behind them, Plagg was practically pulling his antennae out. It had been at least eight, maybe ten minutes since the akuma alert and his kid was none the wiser. And it really didn’t help that he just saw Ladybug and Rena Rouge pass by Adrien’s gigantic glass wall in a blur of red and orange.

But it was hopeless! He couldn’t get the message to Adrien without being seen!

Or . . .

Or could he?

“‘What’s Pythagoras’ favorite instrument?’” Lila read aloud. Her eyes darted over to the blonde leaning against the desk beside her. He bit his lip and his eyes were doing something weird. She had never seen that emotion on him.

“Go on,” Adrien pushed, his eyes practically sparkling. Huh. Was that emotion . . . eagerness?

She cleared her throat and turned the book upside down to read the answer awaiting her at the bottom of the page.

“‘A triangle.’”

Adrien giggled. What he wanted to do was slap his knee and let the whole world know he found it funny with a booming laughter that rivaled Tom Dupain-Cheng’s, but he knew that was un-gentlemanly.

Lila quirked an eyebrow.

Adrien sobered immediately. “You know,” he tried. “Since a triangle is an instrument and the theorem is about right triangles.”

Lila’s stare was unrelenting.

Adrien coughed. “So the triangle is his . . . favorite instrument.”

Lila stared for a bit longer than necessary before letting out a glaringly obvious fake laugh. Adrien was more offended that she thought that laugh was believable than that she didn’t find the pun funny at all. “Ha. That’s, like, so funny, Adrien. I can tell already that this book is going to be a big help.”

Adrien’s shoulders drooped a little. He hadn’t expected her to fall to the ground in ceaseless mirth, but he hadn’t thought her to be such a brick wall either. “Right. Well, why don’t we start with number one? Do you have your notebook or do you need a spare piece of pap--?”

The sound of the television coming to life cut Adrien’s question short. Lila’s eyes bulged out of her head and the sight would have been comical had it not also meant that Plagg was being a nuisance. Again.

But honestly, when was he not?

Lila burst from her seat and sprinted to the television. “Were you standing on the remote or something?” Lila queried, her voice high-pitched and grating to Adrien’s ears.

Adrien scratched the back of his neck. Think, think, think . . .

“Um, my room is haunted?”

Lila gawked at him wordlessly, gripping the back of his sofa. “You posted something about that on Instagram, but I thought you were, I don’t know? Making it up?”

Because you would be an expert on that, right, Lila?

Adrien plucked the remote from the coffee table and pointed it at the television, his thumb barely brushing the power button when the words from the newscaster reached his ears and sent chills down his spine.

“New akuma . . .”

“Ladybug and Rena Rouge on the scene . . .”

“Chat Noir yet to be spotted . . .”

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Furrowing his brow, he ran to his phone and ogled its empty notification list. Why hadn’t he received an akuma alert? Was the Ladyblog acting buggy?

Adrien had to come up with an alibi and fast. Lie like the wind, Bullseye.

He scooped up his cherished pun textbook and shepherded Lila to his bedroom door despite her protests. “I’m so sorry, Lila! I, uh, just remembered I have to practice piano for an extra hour today.” The television droned on about the deadly, unstoppable, mind-controlling, threateningly large, new akuma behind him. The hair on Adrien’s neck stood up with every added adjective.

“You’re not seriously sending me out into the city where the akuma is?” Lila exclaimed.

Oh. The thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Um, sorry, Lila, but I’m sure you’ll be fine! You’re Ladybug’s best friend, right? She’d never let anything happen to you.” Adrien smirked inwardly at that. Lila was failing miserably at hiding her disgust for his spotted partner when he shut the door--politely--in her face.

Quickly, he propped up his phone on the piano and navigated to his voice memo app.

“I deserve extra cheese,” Plagg drawled, hovering to the side of Adrien.

“For nearly exposing yourself to Lila?” Adrien remarked bitterly.

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “No, for figuring out how to get your attention when Lila was clearly undermining you!”

Adrien stopped dead in his tracks. His finger hovered above his latest piano recording while his mind raced. “What do you mean, Plagg? I didn’t get an akuma alert. That’s not her fault.”

Plagg scoffed. “Uh, you did get an akuma alert. That--that menace got rid of it!” Plagg folded his arms across his chest, clearly much angrier than he would ever admit. “She got rid of the notification so you wouldn’t see. Even when she doesn’t know she’s doing it, she’s sabotaging Ladybug! You can’t let her in your room anymore, Adrien.”

Adrien stiffened. So Lila was far worse than he gave her credit for. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. Harmless snooping, he could live with. Interfering with him protecting his lady? Unforgivable. She did that when he was Chat Noir and he thought he had learned his lesson.

Apparently not.

“We’ll talk about this more later, Plagg,” Adrien finally decided. A moment later, the soft melody of a piano piece danced around the room. His eyes wandered to the whiteboard on his wall that had twelve tally marks souring its otherwise pristine surface. Plagg followed his gaze and looked back at his kid with a frown and drooping brows, tail and antennae betraying his melancholy.

Adrien pointedly ignored Plagg’s Pity™ look. “Ladybug’s already cleansed an akuma twelve times without needing my help. Let’s not let there be a thirteenth. Claws out!”

Meanwhile, from the other side of Adrien’s door, Lila simmered, jaw clenched, mouth dry. She didn’t have an inkling why Adrien had concocted such a ridiculous excuse, but she was ninety percent sure it had something to do with Ladybug.

It always came back to that impudent roach.

Lila dragged her feet all the way to the main staircase with every intention to vacate the Agreste premises, but a quick sweep of the mainroom revealed the bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. And interestingly enough, neither was that dreadfully stoic assistant Adrien was so fond of. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen her when she first entered.

Empty. The room was deliciously empty.

And Lila had never seen the inside of Gabriel’s office.

Smirking, she decided she would have to correct that.

Just in case she got caught, Lila inconspicuously flitted around the room in an attempt to appear like she wasn’t on a mission. She fawned over trinkets and leisurely “admired” the boring paintings accosting the walls before her twitching fingers rested on the door handle.

She waited with an ear pressed against the wood. Silence had never tasted sweeter.

The room was . . . well, it left something to be desired.

Wasn’t Gabriel supposed to be a fashion icon?

His interior design made her want to gouge out her eyes with a plastic spork.

Lila gingerly let the door fall into place behind her, the hinges creaking only slightly (a billionaire or whatever he was could afford to professionally oil his door, she assumed) before her feet carried her to a mustard yellow tapestry. The woman adorning it she recognized was Adrien’s mother. The photos of Adrien to her right were all edited from photoshoots. Perfect. Unblemished.

Lila supposed she could overlook Adrien’s pitiful sense of humor. Adrien was still great eye candy, and his reputation made him an even tastier prize.

The scent of cologne and disinfectant mingled, battling each other for dominance and the result was only a bit nauseating. Orange light seeped in from the windows, the tendrils of luminance touching everything in the room but the wall with the tapestry. It was golden hour apparently.

Unable to help herself, Lila brushed her fingers along the edges of Gabriel’s touchscreen, searching, searching. Ah. There. A ridge. A power button, perhaps? With the tip of her fingernail, she pressed it and . . .

Of course, the thing would be password protected.

Maybe Adrien’s birthday?

Wait. Did she even know Adrien’s birthday?

Lila shrugged and turned on her heel. She was curious, but odds were she would never be able to guess Monsieur Agreste’s password. Unless . . .

Slowly pivoting to face the screen again, she tried typing something crazy and, albeit, a little stupid.

There was just no way. It was a waste of time to even try.

She tapped a green enter button.

The waiting screen consisted of the outline of a butterfly slowly being filled in and then repeating. Interesting. She wouldn’t have pegged Gabriel to be a butterfly guy. But if she thought about it really, reeeeally hard, she could just barely recall a few designs Adrien had modeled that sported a butterfly-like logo.

But whatever. This butterfly waiting screen meant nothing. There was still no way.

There was absolutely no way the password to the great fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste’s personal computer was “password.”

Was there?

She idly tapped her nails on the screen, the clack-clack-clack echoing around her in the frustratingly barren room. The anticipation ate away at her until . . .

Bingo. The screen unlocked, and the light shining on Lila transitioned from the black of the waiting screen to the blue of a schematic.

Lila snorted. “Seriously? I’m no Max but even I know that’s the most brainless password known to man.”

Closer inspection led to a fascinating revelation. The schematic wasn’t actually for a building or even a design. There were photos of her classmates and their . . .

Their hero personas? Interesting. Could he have been planning a Superhero line? How did he even find out their identities?

Wow, there was Nino as Carapace and that one girl Kagami as Ryuko. Max as some horse-looking hero she honestly had never seen in her life. Kim as a monkey. Unsurprising. Some guy with blue highlights who she’d only seen around Marinette. And Alya . . . as Rena Rouge.

Lila clenched her fists. Her nails left indentations in her palms.

She didn’t have time to stew over this infuriating morsel of information, however, before the floor beneath her began to tremble. Wasting no time, she sprinted to the middle of the room and was surprised to find the floor now still. Had she imagined the earth quaking?

What sounded like mechanical whirring had her spinning on her heel to face the painting. Her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of a hole in the previously-unmarred tile. From the dark pit rose one bonafide, Barney-colored supervillain, his back facing her.

“Nooroo, dark wings fall.”

Instantly, a waterfall of purple and white glitter illuminated the room. The light was so intense, Lila had to lift her arms and shield her retinas. Her heart thudded wildly against her ribcage.

Any sane person would have run away at the sight of a supervillain in their classmate’s mansion.

But not Lila.

Lila quite liked Hawk Moth. She more than shared his distaste for the superhero duo and was overjoyed whenever he graced her with the opportunity to fight them as an akuma.

She was even more overjoyed to find out her boss and Hawk Moth were not just cut from the same cloth . . .

They were the same cloth.

The man otherwise known as Gabriel Agreste stood before her, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

His shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he grumbled, “Blasted children. I’ll get your Miraculous one of these days--”

“Um, Master?” a tiny voice interrupted.

Lila had never seen such a thing. Was that a bug? A fairy?

“What is it, Nooroo?”

Upon Nooroo’s silence, Gabriel turned around and was incapable of hiding the shock on his face when he found Lila Rossi trespassing in his office.

“How much did you see?” he demanded, scowling.

Lila tittered behind her hand. “Even if I hadn’t seen everything, Hawk Moth, I’d still be asking you what on Earth that thing is.” She jabbed a manicured finger at Nooroo.

Upon seeing his computer on and unlocked, Gabriel lifted his chin and sneered at the fifteen year old girl who had evidently outsmarted him.

Understanding, Lila shook her head. “You really are a boomer,” she mused. “‘Password’ is the least intelligent password you could have picked.”

“I thought it was clever, Master,” Nooroo meekly added.

Desperate to get control of the situation, Gabriel folded his hands behind his back and stood until he was at his full height. “So now you know.” He dared not move from higher ground. “I can’t imagine you thought it’d be smart to confront an adult man who’s shown he has nothing to lose.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have, like, a son?”

Gabriel’s gaze was unrelenting.

Lila almost pitied the oblivious blonde boy. “Whatever. I just wanted to snoop around your office. I couldn’t have possibly dreamed a juicier secret. Paris’s beloved and esteemed fashion designer doubling as its masked terrorist?”

Gabriel bristled.

Feigning nonchalance, Lila perched upon one of Gabriel’s long purple benches and crossed one leg over the other before leaning an elbow on her knee and resting her cheek in her palm. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Scandalous.”

“I could make your life a living hell, young lady,” Gabriel began, but Lila held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.

“No need to get defensive, Monsieur. You have nothing to fear from me.” Lila stood then and crossed the room to stand on equal footing with Gabriel. While the top of her head was far beneath the man she addressed, her confidence made her a formidable contender. She leaned forward and peered up at him. “In fact, I want to help.”

Gabriel’s fingers twitched. He knew she liked getting akumatized, but this was unexpected. His initial reaction was to shut it down. This should have never happened. He had to ensure her silence but keep her far from involved.

His curiosity, however, got the better of him. He was a businessman at heart, after all.

“Help how?” he pressed.

Lila smiled crookedly.

Hook.

“You’ve akumatized me before and we’ve caused great chaos together.” Lila fiddled with one of her foxtails as she circled Gabriel. “Can you imagine if we actually strategized an akuma?”

“Are you implying my previous akuma were unplanned?”

Line.

“Not at all!” Lila mended, already sensing that Gabriel’s pride was a sore spot. “But you catch your victims when they’re unhinged, laden with their own emotions. How many times has an akuma put their own needs before yours?”

Lila turned her back on Gabriel then and moseyed toward the benches once more. She let her hand trail along the fabric of the cushions, waiting for him to take the bait . . .

“I’m listening.”

Sinker.

“What if your akuma’s goals were aligned with yours? Everything would be calculated. Predisposed. And--” Lila couldn’t prevent the smile from bleeding into her voice “--I’ve never had a sentimonster assist me before.” Lila stopped moving but remained facing the window. The sun was nearly set now.

Heels clacked against the tile. Approaching. Lila steeled herself.

“I don’t suppose you’ll join my assistant and I out in the gardens, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

Lila grinned from ear to ear. Oh, she could just imagine the taste of Ladybug’s fear when she loomed over her, fingers pinching her earrings and just ripping them from her lobes. Would the joy blooming in her heart be overwhelming, like a banana overpowering the flavors in a smoothie? Or would it slide down her throat like her mother’s hot chocolate? Rich, creamy, satisfying, and scalding all at the same time . . . but faintly nipping at her vocal cords from the traces of cinnamon?

Was it unbecoming to hope Ladybug’s ears would bleed?

“I would love to.”

Unbecoming or not, it was her greatest desire, from both the deepest and shallowest crevices of her soul.

-----

I just released Chapter 7 over on AO3, so if you're itching for more, go check it out here and leave me some love in the comments. Comments are jet fuel for my creativity 🥰 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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lalaith217 · 3 years

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This is something a little different from what I usually post, but 2x13 is one of my favorite episodes and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this one. It's a sort of "She thinks, he thinks"-type of thing and it's pretty long, but I hope you enjoy.

Waking up

When Chloe wakes up, she feels his presence in the room before she even opens her eyes. It doesn't surprise her that he's here though, she's actually been waiting for him for a couple of hours now, wondering when he'd show up. The nurses told her that there had been "complications" and, ever the realist, she had known they had been downplaying the severity of her situation. She had seen what the professor's poison had done to the first victim and as soon as her nose had started bleeding, fear had overcome her. But now, she felt okay, still a little weak, but fine. The nap she had just woken up from had helped. And him sitting at her bedside helps too.

"Well. Look who's back. You didn't die after all. That makes one of us."

She opens her eyes and a smile plays on her lips. He's making even less sense than usual, but she doesn't really care right now. She is happy he's here, at her side, and that whatever he did to save her has worked. Does she really need to know what it was? There is time for that later, he'll probably tell her in excruciating detail anyway. And then, they'll talk about what she really wants to talk about right now. Them.

"I heard you saved me."

She puts her hand on his hands, both of them by her side as if he had been praying (which is ridiculous, she knows). She isn't sure, but, for a moment, she thinks he wants to pull back, looking down at both their hands. But he doesn't and his skin feels warm and for a brief moment, her mind flashes back to their dinner in his penthouse. She had taken his hand then, too, and he had looked at her almost the same way: a mix of surprise, disbelief and, most of all, warmth. This time however, a fourth feeling creeps in his eyes that she can't quite place. It is not a good feeling however.

"Well... much as I'd like to take all the credit, this one was a... a team effort."

She is a little surprised he doesn't want all the glory for this one, but a part of her tells her that this one hit way too close to home for him to be making jokes. She remembers his face when her nosebleed wouldn't stop and when she showed him the puncture mark that the professor's needle had left. He hadn't made any jokes then and when Lucifer stopped making comments and jokes, things were as serious as they got.

"You look heaven sent."

The last time he talked to her before things got worse, he looked more worried than she had ever seen him. He put up a front, fighting with Dan over bringing her to the hospital (which she explicitly asked him not to do), but she knew her partner. And she knew things were getting worse by the minute. When she had collapsed at that party, she had known that maybe her reluctance to go the hospital was not the best way of dealing with things. But when she saw Lucifer all worried in that hospital room, she knew things were going seriously wrong.

Still, she refused to give up and was more worried about what Trixie would think. As Lucifer always told the truth, she asked him if her being strapped to this hospital bed, tubes going in and coming out of her, would scare Trixie. He answered in his typical Lucifer fashion, making a quip, she thought, but they way he looked at her, she somehow knew he was not making a joke. Her heart skipped a beat, but the moment passed and Lucifer left. She didn't see him again, even when she was seizing, and she missed him. If things were as bad as they seemed, why wasn't he by her side? But she knew he was doing everything in his power to save her. And he had.

It had taken her a while to come to terms with her feelings for him. A few weeks, hell, even a few days ago, she had been sure that they were not going to work. They were just too different, she had thought, well, she still believes that they are very different people. But when he had sent her away and saved those college kids, she had realized that, despite that all being true, despite everything, the thought of him hurt, the thought of him not being around annoying her every day, had scared her more than she had have ever thought.

And then he had just walked down the steps as if nothing had happened, a smug smile on his handsome face, and she couldn't believe he didn't even have a scratch. But more importantly she had realized that she couldn't fight what she was feeling for him anymore. Nor did she want to. On instinct, she had hugged him tight, and, with hesitation, he had hugged her back. She suspected that Lucifer didn't have much experience with physical contact that wasn't sexual, so she didn't take his hesitation personally. How could she when the look in his eyes, full of wonder and adoration, told her everything that she needed to know in this moment. They were real, that's what she knew and damn, she wouldn't let stupid poison come between them.

"You know, this whole poisoning thing has just... really put a pause on everything that's been going on with you and I, so... should we just pick up where we left off?"

The words came out of her mouth before she could actually really think them through. She fears for a moment they might be too straightforward and he might get overwhelmed, but she is still holding his hand, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her skin and he is still looking at her with those deep brown eyes, and she just doesn't feel like holding back anymore. She has been fighting her feelings for quite some time now and she doesn't want to do it anymore.

"I think, right now, you just need to focus on feeling better, Detective."

He has let go of her hand and moves to stand up. She is surprised he is leaving right now, but she must look worse than she thought. And maybe he just needs to process. And as he said, he just wants her to get better and she can't really sleep while he's here, can she? Although... No, they have all the time in the world once she feels better. They'll figure everything out. Together.

"Would you have someone bring Trixie in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

He moves away from her now and she feels that so much is left unsaid. This is clearly not the time though, at least for him. But she needs to tell him, one more time, in her way, that she wants this, that she wants him. Ever since they kissed on the beach she has been struggling to tell him, in her own dorky way, how she wants this, how she wants him.

"And we'll talk. We'll talk later, yeah?"

He doesn't answer. His mouth opens, but words don't come out. She wonders why he's not really responding to her question, but maybe he just needs time to process. She still needs time to process and she is much, much better with the "touchy-feely stuff" than him. Not that that is any kind of challenge. She remembers, how he reacted the first time she told him she could be vulnerable around him. What had been intended as a way of telling him how she felt, had resulted in him acting even stranger than usual, touching her back and asking all kinds of strange questions.

She looks after him when he leaves her hospital room. She is smiling and for the first time in a while she feels better. They'll talk and figure this out, she knows they will. No more denial, no more interruptions.

**********************************

When she finally opens her eyes, his heart does a somersault. Only a few hours ago he didn't even know if she would make it and now she is looking at him with those big grey-blue eyes of hers as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't been close to... He can't even think about it anymore. Can't think about what losing her would mean.

"Well. Look who's back. You didn't die after all. That makes one of us."

Watching her sleep, he had had time to think about what he had done. For her. Ever since he had left hell, he had been sure of one thing: he wouldn't go back to that place, not in a million years. And yet he had gone back. For her. And he would do it again. And again. But she would never know, could never know.

"I heard you saved me."

She has put her hand on both of his and, for a moment, he thinks about pulling away from her. It feels wrong for her to be touching him like this, when he knows everything she is feeling for him is a lie, a manipulation. But her hand on his feels soft and the way she looks at him now makes him feel all sorts of things. Things that he has never felt before. Things that made him go to hell for her. Literally.

"Well... much as I'd like to take all the credit, this one was a... a team effort."

Always the truth, that was what he tried to live by. Without Amenadiel, Linda, Maze and most of all his mom, he wouldn't have made it out of that place. The memory of Uriel haunts him, the way he plunged the knife into his gut, again and again. The guilt of killing his own brother kept him in his own personal hell. Only when his mom had come and reminded him of why he was down there, her, he had come to his senses.

"Chloe."

Hearing her name down there had snapped him out of his daze. The memory of her lying in that hospital bed, dying of some poison, and him being the only one who could save her, had brought him back to reality. He had to save her, his partner, his detective. There was nothing he wouldn't do to save her life.

When he had gone to her house to confront her about... nevermind... to talk to her, and saw her nose-bleed, he was terrified. They had seen what the poison had done to the student at Malibu State and the professor had just killed himself, with the recipe for the antidote in his head of course. Driving her to the next hospital was his first instinct, but when she refused to go and reminded him of how the hospital hadn't helped any of the other victims, he turned around and promised to do things her way. Sometimes she was as stubborn as she accused him of being and the annoying part was that she was usually right.

This time however, not even her refusal to give in could stop the effects of the poison on her. He was mildly surprised when she held onto his arm going down the stairs at that rich douchebag's party, usually refusing any assistance, even in high heels, but then she collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. His heart sank remembering her unresponsive in his arms, fragile, vulnerable. This could not be happening to her, not now, not ever. He could not lose her like this, not after she had kissed him like that at the beach, not after she made him feel... everything he felt.

"You know, this whole poisoning thing has just... really put a pause on everything that's been going on with you and I, so... should we just pick up where we left off?"

He hasn't even realized that his thumb has been drawing lazy circles on her skin, warm against his. Lost in thought the detective's suggestion brings him back to here and now, back to reality. A reality in which his father has put the detective into his path. A reality in which all that he has been feeling for her, all that she has been feeling for him, is a manipulation, a cruel trick his father has played on them.

"I think, right now, you just need to focus on feeling better, Detective."

He lets go of her hand and stands up, wanting to break the connection that pulls him closer to her. She didn't have a choice. She doesn't have a choice. Her feelings are not real, he reminds himself, and neither are they. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and it doesn't mean he would rather stay here, with her, by her side, until she felt better. With her eyes always looking at her the way she does now, full of... emotions. Emotions that aren't real, but still emotions that she feels. And so does he.

"Would you have someone bring Trixie in?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Right, the urchin. Probably worried about her mother almost as much as he was. A visit from her will distract her. He has almost reached the door of her hospital room now. He'll be finally able to breathe again without her looking at him with those eyes. He will be able to remember that all of this is nothing but a bloody manipulation and not real.

"And we'll talk. We'll talk later, yeah?"

His heart does that stupid thing again when it skips a beat. She sounds so sincere and hopeful, he almost wants to turn around and kiss her senseless. He wants to tell her what that moment at Pasadena State meant to him, when she hugged him, just like that. When he could see in her eyes that she felt the same way as him. When he felt, for a few blissful hours, that they could make this work. That he... that they could be happy. He had felt invincible.

But he doesn't turn around and he doesn't tell her. He leaves her room without looking back. He has to leave, get out of here now, and he doesn't just mean out of this hospital room. How can he stay around her, when every time she looks at him, he feels like this. Feels the betrayal and the pain and... that other feeling he now pushes down, way down, as he walks along the hospital hallway, straight to the exit.

#deckerstar #Lucifer #lucifer rewatch #lucifer x chloe #Lucifer 2x13 #lucifer fanfiction

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

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Prom & six packets of condoms

Mark Lee x reader // FLUFF, SMUTT , ANGST

Part of PROM SERIES: MARK LEE

Themes: high school! au, prom! au, college! au, best friends to lovers

Word count: 7k

Summary: Prom, six packets of condoms, a funeral, and graduation all needed first to happen before he can finally win you.

Warnings: character death (a parent) if you’re not comfortable with that please click away, mentions of alcohol, mentions of other idol (nct dream), loss of virginity, protected sex, fingering, slight depression, mourning phase,

A/N: inspired by true events, I just finished reading First Times by moonctzeny and I won’t lie I was inspired and my prom memories haunted me the whole day so here you go. Phrases/ paragraphs in italics are flashbacks. Proofread this once only hehe. I will make a time stamp for every condom and will post it on the following days hehe. Enjoy reading

Time stamps for this fic/condoms: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

“You’re the new girl right? Hi, I’m Mark”

It’s been almost four good years since Mark ate lunch with you during the first day of freshman year. You were the new girl in town by that time and you don’t know anyone in school. Mark is the nicest person you’ve met and ever since that fateful day, you two are inseparable and you became best friends.

Now senior year is on full throttle and it seems like everything is happening so fast. Maintaining your GPA, college applications, spearheading extracurricular activities and prom then graduation in just a weeks... its all too much.

“Hey, you all set for tomorrow? You’re not going to ditch me with some other dude who’s more handsome than me, right?” You’re talking to Mark through FaceTime while you two prepare for tomorrow’s big event. He jokes about you ditching him last minute and he told you he’d still love you if that really happens.

“If you mention it again, fine! I’ll go with Jeno-“ you teased him back.

“Hey! I’m just kidding. Don’t do that!” His laugh and his smile are still addicting to watch even if it’s through your phone screen.

Mark asked you to prom, which you think is so sweet of him. And it might not looked like it, but prom is a pretty big deal for Mark as much as it is for you.

It’s that time of the month when you and Mark do a scary movies Netflix and chill ritual in his room. You were waiting for him to get the bag of Cheetos from their kitchen and it was pretty dark in his room and when he finally came back, he was biting a red rose in his mouth and posing sexily in front of you. At first, you thought he was just making you laugh but you saw him walk towards his guitar and strums it. Before he sing you a song, he hands you the rose and kissed you on the cheek.

And that’s how Mark asked you to prom. Simple yet so unforgettable and meaningful. You will never forget how he sings so passionately in front of you and only for your eyes to see.

“Y/n, my best friend. Will you go to prom with me?”

“Who would reject such a great promposal? Yes!”

That night, after his promposal, you two watched scary movies without even noticing that you two were cuddled up and holding hands.

He’s all crazy about how he wants to do everything right for you and also so he could have that full experience with prom. Unforgettable promposal, wrist corsages, his tie matches your dress. Everything has to be perfect.

The most awaited day finally arrived and you are excited to spend a day that happens once in your life. When you walk down the stairs as Mark waits for you with your parents, he was speechless on how beautiful you are.

You know when Mark is getting flushed and shy when he starts to say “uhm” more than three times and he can’t look at you in the eye but he steals glances just to admire how beautiful you are. He puts the corsage around your wrist and you think it’s pretty not because it’s in your favorite color but because Mark chose this.

After your parents took a picture of you and Mark, the limousine arrived right on time. You saw Jaemin peeking at the limousine’s sunroof with a big smile, cheering for you and Mark excitedly because you two look good together.

“Mark, you didn’t have to match your tie with the color of her dress you know? By the way, y/n you look beautiful” Haechan opens the door for you and Mark to join the party inside the limousine with their respected dates.

“Oh Hyuck, it’s his idea give him a break. You look handsome too, nice hair!”

The drive to the hotel was already fun and full of laughter but the big event itself, was a shindig. Disco balls and chandeliers, glitters, confettis and balloons everywhere. Everyone was having a good time, smiles everywhere and everyone was dancing under loud music.

And while you admire everyone having the time of their lives, Mark is only admiring you. He can’t take his eyes off of you, thinking how asking you to be his date is a right decision. What if he asks you to be something else? Something bigger than just being a date. He brushed his thoughts away and just enjoy this night to the fullest with you. Being your date is a great excuse for him to wrap his arm around your waist from behind as you two dance under loud party music like crazy teenagers.

After having a blast at prom and getting half drunk at the after party, you ended up tired and exhausted in Mark’s bed. He flopped beside you putting his right hand under his chin and admire you smile at the ceiling. To him you’re still as beautiful as the first time he saw you today even though your face is all oily and your hair is already down.

“I’m pretty sure we did everything that’s needed to be done for a perfect prom” he said, slightly whispering to not ruin the silence in his room.

“Hmm. Not everything, but yeah it’s perfect. You’re perfect” you whispered back sweetly, trying to let him know that you’re flirting.

“What do you mean?” He bounced back a question immediately and totally missed your flirting. You let out a sigh.

“I overheard Jaemin and the other boys are going to lose it with their girlfriends tonight. Because of that, their prom will be extra special you know? But Mark, you’re perfect! You made this night beyond perfect and I couldn’t ask for more” You see him smile and blush, hugging his favorite striped pillow and try to hide his shyness.

It does make him kind of envy with the others because he wants to lose his virginity too tonight, but the problem is he doesn’t have a girlfriend. The room became silent when Mark told you that. You thought of all the things he did for you today just to give you an unforgettable night and then a crazy idea hit your head like a lightning.

“You can still do it. You have me”

The idea made him speechless and excited but he’s good at hiding it. “Wow- Jeez, I don’t know what to say but are you sure? Because I want this to happen, like really.” He almost confessed his feelings for you but he stopped himself before he ruins this moment.

“Yeah. I want to lose my virginity too tonight” the awkwardness is starting build up between the two of you. “Let’s just pretend we’re together. We do love each other as friends but you know, just so we could have a good time while having sex we uhm- we need to think that we’re together”

“No problem with me” he’s been pretending that you two are together ever since he developed a big crush on you. “Do you want to go to the bathroom first?” He offered.

“That would be great, yeah. I could use some time to fix myself first” you head towards to his bathroom and locked it nervously. The idea wasn’t supposed to make you nervous because it’s Mark but you caught yourself getting excited about the sex.

You found him making the bed and he made the room all dark and left his lampshade open. You walk towards the edge of his bed, Mark on the other side and you see him loosen up his tie and starts to unbutton his dress shirt. When he’s all naked in front of you, you hear your heart pound and beats so fast when you saw him crawl to your side. “Come here, I’ll unzip your dress”

You turned around and you feel his hands roam around your shoulders before he proceeds to unzip your dress. “Nice bra” he says when you faced him again.

Mark invites you to his bed to come lay down holding your hand as if you’re going to fall. It’s weird how it’s not your first time laying on Mark’s bed but this time it felt like it’s your first time.

He gave you a peck on the lips, a quick and friendly kiss. “That’s our first kiss as best friends. I want you to know that It’s me and like Im not going to do anything bad to you. I’m just appreciating my best friend” theres a slight pang on his heart when he said that because right now he wants to scream and tell you his feelings for you.

Mark kissed you again to silence his thoughts. And it was a different kiss from the first one. This kiss made your head move around his pillows, you feel your head sinking as he kiss you deeper and deeper, both of your hands are exploring as if it has a mind of its own.

“And that’s our first kiss, being together” and I want you to know that I love and if you could just wait for me to man up, I will love you fiercely. But of course he didn’t have the courage to say that part to you, instead he kissed you and pretended to be with you.

It was hard to stop kissing Mark and be away from his incredible lips. Lips he used for singing and for his prayers, now he’s using it for kissing you. “Let’s get you naked, baby” he said in between delicious kisses.

He pull away from the kiss and once again admired the girl in front of him. “Mark, you deserve everything” you said, sitting up in front of him. Guiding his hands towards your chest just to brush his soft hands against your clothed boobs and gave him your consent and the honour to unclasp your strapless bra.

You smiled at him when you felt your bra fall down the mattress. He pushed you back on the mattress, kissing your lips and slowly traveling down your neck.

For a minute he just stayed above you and looked at your exposed boobs and proceed to remove your laced panties. You hear him let out a soft exhale, when finally seeing you full naked in his bed.

It’s your first time having sex and neither is Mark but you don’t know why that certain nervousness was gone. He was smiling sweetly to you when he made his way in between your legs kissing your lips again. You feel Mark’s hands roam around your naked body and his touch are just as addicting like his lips. “I’ll be right back”

In the quickest way possible, he went to his bathroom to pump his dick a few more times to make it even harder and grabbed a few condoms from the drawer.

“Mark Lee, are you planning use all six of that?” you were pointing at the condoms.

He chuckled at what you said and went back in between your opened legs and give you a kiss again. “Baby, want to roll it?” he asked, giving you a packet of condom and you nod your head excitedly.

When all is settled, both of his hands are on both sides of your head, cock already lined up, he’s just taking his time with you. “Thank you, Y/n” it should have been ‘i love you, y/n’ but again he kissed you to silence his thoughts.

Pushing inside you slowly, feeling how your walls felt so warm around him. You on the other hand, moaned out the hurt and kissed Mark until you smile whenever he playfully thrusts in you to catch your attention and look at his eyes.

Mark was cute the whole time he was rolling his hips. Cute but fucking hot when looks directly in your eyes and intentionally goes deeper inside. It was quiet and only your moans and his, the skin slapping from Mark’s thrusts are the sounds you can hear inside his room.

You guide his hand to grip your left boob and he got the message and he kneads them. Pulling Mark’s head close to your boobs so he can suck it like the ones you saw in porn, he got the message too. All these are new to him but he’s happy you’re okay with him having the full experience using your body.

If Mark gave you the best full experience for prom, you’re going to give him the best full experience in having sex. It was not long when Mark reached his climax and shoot his cum in the condom and you on the other hand came with the help of his fingers and shivered like crazy underneath him.

Pulling out immediately, he threw the condom and lay beside you, covering you with his familiar sheet that you only use to cover your eyes during scary movies. But now, he’s using it to cover both of your naked bodies. When he pulled you close to him, you were still shivering and sensitive. So he kissed you and until you finally calm down and accept his warmth.

The next day, the sun is shining brightly on Mark’s room and your naked bodies are still underneath Mark’s sheets. You caught him looking at you when you opened your eyes, and you greet him with a smile like you usually do whenever you two had sleepovers.

Waking up with Mark beside you smiling handsomely is not new for you, this happened a hundred of times already. But waking up with Mark beside you naked and his hand is on your waist, is definitely new for the both of you.

“Good morning, beautiful”

“Good morning “ you greet him back with a hoarse voice, “oh wow your smile is nice. Who did you fucked last night, huh?” you added playfully cupping his handsome face and smiling brightly like the sun.

“You” he said with a grin on his face.

“Oh, that’s right I gave you that smile. Can I take it back?” you leaned to his face for a kiss, and you showered him with kisses while you both laugh and giggle like little kids. He ended up being on top of you again, just like last night while he was inside of you.

He lay back on the mattress, thinking maybe you don’t want to do this anymore but it’s morning, and being horny in the morning is something he cant control. So he asked you, “are we still together?”

“Yes. Just until breakfast “ you answered him without hesitation.

That’s his go signal to kiss you again just how you like it. Feeling his incredible lips again that you will surely miss the moment you two eat breakfast. Slowly pushing the sheets away, exposing your body again for him but this time in broad daylight and he can see all of you.

He props he arms and stayed beside you, admiring your glow under the morning light that shines through his window while you let his right hand cup your pussy and let him play with it.

You knew what he’s doing. He’s making you feel good and he’s just laying beside you watching you moan his name with closed eyes and parted lips. The position was damn too comfortable you can move your legs all you want until you’re satisfied while he’s putting digits inside you, gliding his finger up and down your slit or in and out of your cunt.

“Mark” you moaned his name when he finally hit the nerve while your left leg opens a little while he touch you. When it was all too much, you grab hold to his hand begging him to stop because it’s making you weak in all ways possible. And when he did stopped, you were breathing deeply and sharply.

You watch him lick the fingers that went inside you and he looked so hot. He waited for you to calm down and press yourself to his body for an embrace. You and Mark stayed embracing each other thinking how you don’t want this to be over yet. Thinking loudly but not saying it to each other.

You both want the same thing but none of you knew that truth. For you, Mark only loves you as a friend. And for Mark, he cant pursue you because he’s going away eventually and you don’t deserve that kind of love.

“You do know that what you did for me is a big deal, right?” Mark breaks the silence but not the embrace.

“Mhmm. Are you happy? Cause I am” you heard Mark’s heart beats faster and loudly as you pull him more and tighten your embrace.

“I’m so happy, I can finally die” it made you both laugh but still not moving to break the embrace and finally have breakfast.

After what happened you two spend your days together like how you normally do. Going to school together, Netflix and chill, church every Sundays. And if someone will accidentally brought it up, you two will just laugh it all out.

Come graduation, the saddest day of your life. That and the day after graduation. Graduation simply means ‘Goodbye Mark Lee’ and finally letting him go and wish him luck for his college years in Canada.

“I hate Canada” you cry your eyes out as you two sit in front of the big feast your family and his family prepared for graduation dinner and Mark’s send off. “Why do you have to pick the earliest flight tomorrow” you whine.

Mark hugged you and gave you a spoonful of ice cream that you cant resist. “Sorry, I just have to take care of a lot of things before school starts” It’s not that you hate him for going home to Canada and study for college there, but you didn’t even get to spend the summer with him because he has to be there already.

The night before Mark leaves, it was emotional. You cried and cried in your room, looking at the pictures in your phone and the ones that are on your bedside drawer. You cried until you were tired and eventually fall asleep.

Mark leaves at exactly 6am.

And it’s 5am when your mother woke you up with a panic. “Your father had a heart attack. The ambulance is taking too long”

Everything happened so fast that you didn’t have a chance to think it all through. Because of the panic, you drove your parents straight to the hospital as fast as you can, crying while you’re driving and saying your apologies to Mark that he will not hear because you left your phone at home.

“Why isn’t she picking up?” Mark is already at the airport, waiting for you and his flight. Half mad but mostly sad. “She cant just let me leave without saying goodbye right?” he was furious already in front of his parents.

But you never came. And he went back to Canada with a broken heart. He was mad to you because you were petty and selfish just because he can’t stay here for the summer you made him suffer by not sending him off.

While Mark is in the air and up above the clods hating you, you’re in the hospital crying because you lost your father. It was so painful for you to see your mother cry and constantly blame yourself for not driving fast enough instead of crying for Mark while you were driving.

Mr. and Mrs. Lee told Mark the news about your father. It takes a matter of seconds for him to burst into tears while he was in the middle of fixing his dorm room and immediately taking back everything bad he said to you through texts.

In the day of the funeral Mark’s mother handed you her phone, “A phone call from Mark, love. I think you should talk to him, maybe he can cheer you up.” It was sweet for Mrs. Lee to tell you that, but you’re still mad at yourself and yourself mad at him for telling you such hurtful words. Nonetheless you took the phone from Mrs. Lee and answered without saying a word.

“Hi” you heard him gulp, he sound tired “I’m worried for y/n. Who’s taking care of you? You haven’t returned any of my messages or calls. Baby, you have to be strong” the pet name made you tear up, and you let your tears fall continuously because you miss him so much.

“Just say the word and I’ll come back there. Fuck college, I can enrol next semester”

“No don’t do that. I’m taking care of myself Mark, I’m sorry for making you worry” he was glad to hear your voice again. If he sounds tired, for him you sound sad and broken. “I promise to talk to you when I come home, okay” you added, and without any other words you gave back Mrs. Lee’s phone and excused yourself.

As you mourn with your mother and get used with all the changes, you realised that you have to be strong for her and for yourself. Days passed by slowly and it was torture everyday but Mark helped you with all that he can even though he’s far away.

He sends visitors in your house to cheer you up and so you won’t succumb into sadness. First he sends his parents because he figured you and your mother might need some company or help with anything.

The second visit that you got was Mark’s friends Jaemin, Haechan, Renjun and Jeno who made sure to make you laugh every second or minute.

And the third visit was from Mark, he came all the way from Canada. “Im here now” he wasn’t suppose to visit until Christmas but he can’t take it anymore, his worries are killing him. It’s like a dream being in Mark’s arms again, inside your room and enjoying his warmth.

“How’s Canada? Did you found a replacement for me yet?” you whispered, he was glad that you made a joke you’re starting to sound like your normal self again.

“If they can last six rounds on their first night having sex with me then yeah, they can replace you” you punched him hard on his arm and he let out a loud “ouch!” You’re sure that your punch will leave a bruise that he can take on his way back to Canada.

“I was kidd- fuck, y/n that hurt like a motherfu-“ he was really in pain and you can see his eyes watery already. “Im sorry” you kissed his arm and went silent again, curling on your bed waiting for Mark to embrace you again.

“I was just trying to make you laugh and you give back by punching me.” He embraced you again, caging you with his arms. “Even if someone can last 12 rounds, I will still not replace you and you know that”

When Mark’s three day visit has come to an end, you get to say goodbye now. And even when he’s away again, he still takes care of you and your mom by any ways he can. It went on and on and on until you’re finally back on your feet. Though of course half a year is still not enough to fully recover from your loss, you don’t have much of a choice.

College was incredibly tiring and challenging but its better than staying in your room and looking at the ceiling for weeks. It’s a good thing too that college kept you busy and diverted from being sad and lonely. You had new friends and they are great, a couple of suitors but no one can still top Mark’s charms. And you’re more than happy to see your mother smile and cook around the kitchen again. Just like you she fights hard to have a happy life again.

“Can you please eat more? You’re getting thinner and thinner every week I swear! Don’t wait for me to go there and make you eat” you’re getting an earful from Mark because he noticed you got thin because of the stress and maybe from your depression.

“Bye Mark, I gotta go. Need to finish this paper, love you ugly person!” You waved goodbye to him through your phone screen.

“Love you too, please go eat” he says before ending the call.

The moment you finished the paper, you thought about teasing Mark because you got an earful from him earlier. With all you courage and bravery, you sent him a sexy picture. Not too vulgar but enough to make him hard and that’s for sure.

You: [attached photo]

You: Miss me?

After a couple of seconds, your phone dings.

Mark: I do :(

Two years have passed and everything is still fine and you’re completely happy with everything in your life. College is going pretty well, your mom is happy and that’s what always matters, and Mark.... became busy. You two can only talk during Sunday nights because he has a part time job already and he needs to study, so who are you to demand for time, right?

Until one day you saw a girl behind him sleeping in his bed so soundly during one of your FaceTime calls with him. “Let me guess, she can lasts six rounds” there was bitterness with how you talked to him, you’re just thankful that he didn’t deny it.

“Eight actually” it was not right to say that and he knew that, but he doesn’t understand why are you so upset.

“The fact that you told me you’re busy and you cant talk to me because of some reasons then I’ll find out about this? Im your best friend” there was a moment of silence, then it hit you. “Am I?” he never once lied to you, even if he wants to lie to you about something he always tells you the truth no matter how it will hurt your feelings.

“Of course you are, you’re hurting me how can you say things like that”

You ended the call and ignored him for much more important stuff in your life.

A month of not talking became seven hurtful months, you figured if he can replace you he can be replaced too. You thought maybe that this is just for the sake of having revenge, but it’s not.

Taeyong was definitely not for revenge. You fell hard, head first and it felt good. He was a lot like Mark but more free spirited than Mark or maybe because he’s older and he’s graduating college soon. Taeyong adore you and your mom, he can even make your mom laugh and you’d be happy just by hearing her laughs. Sex with him was also great. Greater than the one you had with Mark but you figured thats already given because Taeyong is experienced.

You were in the middle of finishing a paper when Taeyong lure you into taking a break and have an adult stress release. With no questions asked you jumped on him, leaving your laptop open and leaving your paper that’s due in a couple of hours.

He was balls deep inside you when Mark called through FaceTime and your FaceTime in your laptop automatically accepts calls. You didn’t even know that the call was ongoing and that Mark saw you and Taeyong having sex in your bedroom.

Mark called to tell you know that he’s wrong about choosing someone over you and that he’s coming home for a three day vacation again. But instead of having a talk with you, Mark saw you and Taeyong while you’re both at it and he saw you laughing loud when while Taeyong is kissing your neck. Mark looked away and ended the call.

Days passed by and you didn’t know about what Mark saw. And it’s been almost a year from the last time you two had a conversation, that’s why you’re shocked when you saw him at church one fine Sunday morning. After the mass you waited for him outside the church, “You hate me so much that you didn’t even tell me you were coming home?” you were furious.

He didn’t say a word because he remembered how you’re happy having sex with Taeyong a few days ago. “You hate me so much you didn’t tell me anything about your boyfriend” he said and walked away, just like that.

Mark never stopped loving you, but he was hurt. He went to your house but didn’t have the guts to knock and talk to you but your mother saw him. “Mark? My love what are you doing here? Its cold outside, come in y/n is not home so its safe” he was shocked that your mother knew about his misunderstanding with you.

Your mother made Mark his favorite tea and gave it to him with a smirk that made him let out a laugh. “Im guessing you knew already?” You mom nods, still has a smirk on her face.

“Taeyong is a sweet boy you don’t need to worry. You can’t blame him, you’re too slow. You always had your chance but I don’t know what’s keeping you from winning her. I’m starting to get disappointed” your mother teases Mark and playfully pretends that she’s disappointed.

“I’m better than that guy- just give me a few more months. Or years” Mark gulped, realising what he’s promising to your mother, “I won’t stop until I become your son in law”

“That’s the spirit! To be perfectly honestly you two are stressing me out, so please do what you must”

You are getting tired of the constant push and pull with Mark so you decided to finally talk to him and iron things out before things get out before misfortunes like losing your friendship happens. Even though you’re not sure if he’s okay to talk you still went to his house, only to find out that he went somewhere. “It’s okay Mrs. Lee, I’ll wait here” you point at their porch swing and there, you wait for your best friend to come home.

“Y/n?”

“Hey” you nervously stood up from the swing, “I was waiting for you”

“Good. We need to talk” he sat down next to your side of the swing and he rocks it gently, giving you guys a little breeze. You notice he’s awfully in a good mood and you wonder why.

“Can we please stop fighting? This is not us. I miss you and- I don’t have to fabricate what I want to say to you. I miss my best friend, and that’s that” you kept it real and short because you’re dying to hear him talk, you want to hear his side, his point of view, his say in all of this.

“I wasn’t keeping that girl, she was never a secret. It just kind of happened. Life can be so stressful if you’re alone and far from home. Then you over reacted and started calling me a liar but the truth is I don’t know how to say that ‘hey, I had sex last night’”

“Of course you can tell me if you had sex with other girls Mark, why would you think that I won’t care?”

“Don’t fool yourself, y/n. We both know we have feelings for each other. We don’t say it out loud because were scared someone might get hurt. But our actions speaks loud and clear for us”

What Mark said was true, and as expected the truth was too much for you. Taeyong flashes in your mind and you constantly ask yourself if this is considered cheating. “What are we going to do now?” you asked him.

“I know too well what I’m going to do, and I’m not telling it to you. And I know that Taeyong is a nice person, I know because I just talked to your mom. If you’re happy with him, then be happy with him. Don’t let what’s going on between us ruin that great relationship. I just want for us to stop fucking fighting, like what you said I miss my best friend and that’s that” he smiled sweetly at you and pulled you in a hug. His hug that you missed so much you don’t want to let go now.

‘Good things happen to those who wait, but great things happen to those who ‘hustle’ it’s a quote that Mark read somewhere in the internet and he couldn’t agree more. But in his case, he can’t ‘hustle’ because that means stealing you from Taeyong. So he waits. Patiently. If fate decides to bring you two together, then Mark will definitely grab that chance.

Things went back to normal and the two of you talk again everyday during your senior year in college. Sharing stressful times during internship and talking about what you guys want to happen in the future. It’s always been like this with Mark, you two are very different people who have different views and goals in life but nonetheless you support each other no matter what happens and you two somehow meet in the middle and work things out. For the importance your friendship.

Did you stop him from studying college in Canada? No. Did he stop you from dating Taeyong? No. You strongly believe that your differences makes your friendship more interesting.

You and Taeyong on the other hand, had a rough time and decided to end things because it’s the right thing to do. He can’t keep on disappointing you when he forgets about your dates, he has a stable job so he’s busier than ever and he admits he’s been falling out of love. You were hurt. And you decided to stay single and heal alone from the heartbreak before you open a new chapter with Mark. Now, you’ve been single for almost half a year already and Mark is clueless.

“Do you think that it’s unfair that you get to attend to my graduation but I can’t attend on yours?” you watch Mark fix his gradation robe through your phone and you feel so proud of your best friend.

“Fine. Fly here now, I’ll give you an hour” he jokes, and you both let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, were still having the same graduation dinner. Again.” he adds.

“Okay fine, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, at my graduation. Oh can you bring that robe? I want us to take a picture wearing our graduation gowns” you pout through your screen.

“Well, It’s not allowed but fine princess, I’ll make it happen” the pet name made your heart flutter.

Graduation felt more like prom to you. Why? Because you’re looking forward to see Mark and take cute graduation pictures with him. After the graduation ceremony, it was not hard for you to find him because he’s the only person who’s wearing a different graduation robe.

“Mark!” you ran towards him excitedly and he catches you with welcoming arms. “you look fucking handsome!”

“I know, told you I’ll make it happen” he winks at you and put you down on the ground.

“Now now children, just like prom. Look at the camera. Big smiles please!” your mother initiates to take those cute pictures you always dreamed of. “Honey go see some of your friends, we’ll wait here” and off you go to say goodbye to your friends.

While you were away, your mom took the chance to talk to Mark and tell him that you and Taeyong are long gone. “What? She didn’t tell me anything about them breaking up” Mark was shocked, he felt betrayed for a moment but mostly happy because now he can finally ‘hustle’.

“Honey, she wants to recover from the breakup by herself. She didn’t want to drag you in the mess. Just like you she waited patiently for the right time, until she heals”

Because of that great news, and you didn’t know that Mark already knew about the truth, he became bold about his feelings for you. Now that you’re both home and Mark will not go back to Canada anytime soon, you spend each day together just like when you were in high school. You notice how he flirts with you constantly everyday, how he tells you he loves you without even stuttering, he even asked you, “if we end up getting married someday, which will probably happen” he winks, “how many kids do you want” and the question completely caught you off guard.

It was Netflix and chill night and you and Mark are cuddled in the middle of his bed watching a scary movie, screaming and shouting like teenagers. After the movie, he needed to pee but he didn’t want to go to the bathroom alone, “come on, I’ll stay with you while you pee” you offered and he gladly accepted.

While he pees, you snoop around his bathroom stuff and you see the box of condoms and recognised the condom brand, “is this the one we used that night?” you asked boldly.

He chuckled low, shy to to answer your question but he said, “same brand. different box”

Something came inside your head that maybe he used it all up while he waits for you ‘patiently’ during your time with Taeyong. “And no I didn’t fool around while I was waiting for you. The box before that was the box. Our box.”

“So this new box will wait patiently too?” you teased him.

“No it’s for tonight” he came closer to you and hugged you from behind, looking at you through the mirror. “Why didn’t you say that you and Taeyong were long done?”

“Let me guess, my mom told you” he nods, you turned around to face without breaking his grasp around your waist. “That’s cheating” the teasing never stops and you returned the hug. Putting your arms around his neck and ruffling his soft hair.

“Are we together again?” Mark asked shyly, his blush was visible and it made smile and nod your head to answer his question.

The next thing you know, your lips touched. It was like the first time you kissed him, or rather the second time. The way he kisses you is still the same, full of love, careful and addicting. It’s the exact same lips you want to kiss everyday and forever for as long as you want, and anytime you want.

He caries you back to his bed without breaking the kiss, thinking about how many times he imagined this kind of moment with you again. He sat on the edge of his bed as he puts you on his lap and carefully removes your clothes. You did the same with him and you’re eyes widened when he’s perfect body greets you. “You’ve been working out?”

“Mhmm. Since the day you sent me that sexy picture of yours, thought it might not be fair if you’re the only one who has a hot body” the thought of Mark looking forward to have sex with you again made you laugh and remove the pieces of clothing remaining in your body. You pushed him to the mattress and removed your pants in one swift move then proceed to remove Mark’s.

The kissing continues once you’re both naked in bed already, touching each other freely and boldly. Mark being on top and you laying comfortable beneath him. As the moment became more intense, the feeling of his kisses changed. It became filthy and lustful, and you want more. He took turns between your lips and your nipples, holding you close to his body. “I’ll be right back”

You try to guess how many condoms he’s going to use tonight, and to your surprise. He brought one. Only one. And somehow you get what he’s saying with that condom statement. “One condom is enough to prove and show to you how I love you so much, then I can do it again on the next day, then again and again” he kissed your nose as he kneels in between your legs. “but if you want to finish the whole box tonight, it’s fine with me”

“Hmm. No, one is enough for me too”

“Thought so too” he guides your hand to pump his dick and make him hard even more before he rolls the condom. He put both of his arms on both sides of your head and leaned down even more so he could reach your lips and kiss you while he fucks you. It was a feeling like any other when Mark finally pushed in. Not even Taeyong can make you feel good like this, as if every thrust is full of pleasure.

You feel your body being dragged from the mattress because of his fast pace and hard thrusts. Eventually pulling away from the kiss for air and let out all your whines. Mark’s thrusts are sometimes slow and deep like he’s rearranging your guts, and sometimes his thrusts are piercing and fast.

“No more pretending, I love you and I will never let you go again” he said those beautiful words while he was thrusting fast and gripping your hand, bringing you to your climax.

You do love him too so much but you can’t say it out loud because he didn’t stopped thrusting until it’s too much for you that your toes curled and you shake uncontrollably underneath him, moaning his name loudly. He finally stopped and loaded the condom with his cum. You watch him removed it from his dick and throw it away but his dick still shoots some more cum on the sheets and you watch him get embarrassed.

After cleaning up, he slides under his thick cover and cuddles with you. Arms around each other saying ‘i love you’ over and over again and sealing it with hundreds of kisses.

Story time

During my prom, I have this friend who moved to Canada we were really good friends. He became face of the night during prom because everyone wants to take pictures with him because he’s going to leave the next day already.

We stayed good friends we just talk everyday and he helped me through a really bad breakup and then I helped him surprise his girlfriend during valentines. (we have a flower shop and he bought expensive af flowers for the girl and we delivered it to her house) the she cheated.

And then after six years he went home and we had coffee :))))

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jihyuncompass · 4 years

Note

The RFA sharing a bed with MC for the first time?

Oh my goodness this is a very cute idea I love it!

Note: Since it was requested this request now included V and Saeran!

Zen/Hyun

The first time wasn’t intentional. You had come over to hang out and watch a movie together.

But then it got late and he didn’t feel safe sending you home at night. He was in a gang when he was young and he knows what kind of things happen to people at night!

At first he insists on sleeping on the couch, he wants to be a gentleman around you! All men are wolves!

But that’s not gonna fly, nope. You insist that he share with you, at this point you’ve been dating a while so really what’s the harm?

Once you convince him he crawls into bed next to you. He’s trying to keep cool and keep his head on straight but you look so beautiful he can’t help but pull you into his arms.

He’s so happy he can barely even speak so he just holds you tighter.

Zen is basically a human space heater so you don’t even really need a blanket. He’s so warm cozy and just pleasant.

The two of you fall asleep with your head resting against his chest and his arms around your shoulders and waist, both incredibly happy.

Zen ends up skipping his morning run the next morning to sleep in with you a little longer. He wants to savor the moment and make it last as long as he can.

Yoosung

He’s equal parts nervous and excited.

He’s dreamed of having a significant other for so long and he’s imagined all of the different scenarios and sharing a bed is definitely one of them.

He ends up psyching himself up in the mirror while he’s getting ready for bed. It may be just sharing a bed but that’s still super exciting for him! Pretty much any relationship milestone is major for him.

Once he’s in bed with you he tries not to make his excitement obvious, but you catch on, he’s never been good at hiding how he’s feeling especially from you.

The two of you spend some time messing around on your phones, playing mobile games together, watching some youtube videos. It’s all very sweet and peaceful.

You both fall asleep with Yoosung as the big spoon and you as the little spoon. He feels so happy and excited it takes him a while to settle down and actually fall asleep.

In the morning you both wake up to Yoosung’s alarm so he can get to class on time.

Sometime during the night you had changed positions and now you were the big spoon and he’s the little spoon.

He tries not to be embarrassed but you assure him he’s still a strong grown man even if he ends up the little spoon.

He insists on you staying the night more often.

Jaehee

Jaehee had come over after a long day at the cafe. The plan was to have some dinner, go over some cafe-related paperwork and maybe watch a movie.

The two of you barely make it through the first stack of paperwork when you both realize just how tired you both are. You’re both yawning up a storm and wiping tears from your drooping eyes.

At this point you tell Jaehee she should just spend the night with you. At first she isn’t sure, your relationship had definitely turned romantic but she still was getting used to being in a relationship and maybe this was too soon?

You tell Jaehee that she doesn’t have to stay if she doesn’t want to or feel comfortable but she agrees.

She wants to! Jaehee is also just not someone who’s used to this, she still is figuring out what is and isn’t okay with you. But if you offered that must mean you really want to right?

Once the two of you are ready for bed you decide to put one of Zen’s musicals on the TV, so hopefully she can relax.

It works like a charm, once the musical is playing you can tell how calm she is, how comfortable she is.

The two of you fall asleep lying close to each other, not quite cuddling but close and comfortable. When you wake up however the two of you are tangled in each other’s arms, having reached out to embrace each other something during the night.

After this Jaehee starts to seem more comfortable, more confident even, somehow sleeping in the same bed seemed to get rid of some anxiety she had, and your relationship feels more clear, more established.

It has a good impact.

Jumin

As hard as it was for him, even after you start dating Jumin holds steady to his rule about living together before marriage.

However you staying the night isn’t living together so that’s fine. Also the two of you are engaged so why not?

Like with Zen it’s almost kind of an accident. The two of you had originally intended on just having dinner together. But you ended up talking a lot longer than planned, and drinking a few more glasses of wine than either of you had planned.

Soon enough it was super late and if he was being honest Jumin didn’t want to let you go yet. He was enjoying being with you so much and he didn’t want to stop feeling the way he did.

Also he doesn’t think it’s right to send you home after so many glasses of wine, it’s not polite and he hasn’t been in a relationship before but he knows that sending you home would be a bad fiance move.

Once the two of you are in bed together Jumin has no hesitation in bringing you close to him. Your head lies in the crook of his neck and your arm is resting on his chest.

You don’t say it out loud but you wonder if Jumin would have done the same thing if he hadn’t indulged in so much wine earlier in the night.

Jumin’s breathing lulls you to sleep, and it’s the most comfortable sleep you’e had in a long time.

The two of you actually wake up in the same position you fell asleep. Jumin is awake first and completely awestuck seeing you. This is just another moment for him that proves how badly he wants to marry you.

When you wake up the first thing he asks is if the wedding date can be moved up. He doesn’t think he can stand not being married to you for much longer.

You mostly laugh off his suggestion. Mostly.

Seven

Okay hear me out. I know you said bed, but I raise you something even better.

A pillow fort.

It started as a joke but soon the two of you had collected every pillow, blanket, couch cushion, and bed sheet you could find in the bunker. You even grabbed a few of Seven’s fluffiest towels too.

This pillow fort was insane, Seven even managed to put in twinkle lights so there was light inside. He also set up one of his giant computer monitors in there so the two of you could watch movies without leaving the comfort of your shared pillow palace.

You both stayed up late watching dorky action movies, you listened to Seven’s commentary and bad impressions of the actors. But eventually the two of you started to get tired. You weren’t even quite sure what time it was anymore.

You both kind of fell asleep by accident, the exhaustion had really hit the two of you at about the same time. You couldn’t even remember what position you were laying in when you actually fell asleep.

When you woke up Seven was curled around you, arms around your waist, head resting on your chest, both of his legs wrapped around yours.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d seen him look so serene. You were used to him being so big and energetic, or depressed and distant. But here, he seemed so calm. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before. But one that makes you fall more in love with him.

You don’t wake him up, at that moment you just want to keep watching him, you gently press a kiss to the top of his head and enjoy this moment for all that it is.

V/Jihyun

The two of you had been together quite a while by this point. After V had returned from his two year journey he was like a completely different person. The darkness that used to haunt his expression was gone, the seemingly permanent crease in his brow seemed softer now. He seemed more confident, happier.

But even after he returned there were still some things he struggled with when it came to being in a relationship so the two of you took things at your own pace, some things happened faster than others but something like sharing a bed took a long while.

It’s not as if he didn’t want to, anytime the two of you shared any type of physical affection or intimacy he loved it, but it was the build up that was difficult. That’s where doubt sprouted in his mind and worry rooted in his chest.

The first time is planned. The two of you spent the day together, going for a hike in the morning, making lunch together and spending the afternoon putting puzzles together, all things that put his mind at ease.

When it was time for bed the two of you took your time lying down together. You shared a peaceful silence for a while, letting Jihyun take the lead so he wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

After a while he reaches out to you, he’s hesitant but he relaxes once he sees you reach out for him too. Soon the two of you are holding onto each other. His fingers running through your hair while you trace your fingers across his back.You fall asleep that way, mostly in a comfortable silence.

In the morning it’s Jihyun who wakes up first, he wakes up feeling warm and his eyes open to see your face. He can’t stop staring at you, he thinks about how he almost allowed himself to completely lose his sight, how he could never be able to look at you like this.

But he feels no anxiety, no regret, only love and reassurance. Reassurance that he made the right choice in choosing you to come back to.

Saeran

The two of you were at the safehouse after escaping Mint Eye.

Saeran had been working nonstop without a break for hours. Soon the whole world would know about his father and the crimes he’s committed.

You tried to sleep but you just couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes you kept thinking you were back in that place, in that room. it would scare you out of sleeping.

You didn’t want to bother Saeran but you knew he probably needed to sleep just as much as you did. Gently you asked him to take a break and lie down with you for a while. Just until you were able to fall asleep.

He was pretty unsure, you knew that he was doing better being out of that place but it wasn’t hard to see how he was still worried. Gently you take his hand and lead him to the bed.

At first he doesn’t even touch you, he just lies next to you and watches you. He’s trying to find words to say but he can’t find anything. He feels so many emotions, he feel anxious, overwhelmed, but also happy, safe, and dare he say hopeful.

You reach out and take his hand in yours, you remind him that it’s all going to be okay, and soon the worst will be behind the both of you. You start talking about all the things the two of you can do once things are better. You talk about growing a garden together, one even better than the one at Magenta, you talk about cooking meals together, living together. Being happy together.

The two of you talk until you both drift to sleep, both envisioning a happy, perfect future for the two of you.

You wake up first, and find yourself clinging to Saeran, while he clings to you, legs tangled together with your chin resting on the top of his head. You hold him tighter, making your embrace a promise.

You’re going to make sure he’s happy, if it’s the last thing you do.

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