#idk if i've just been listening to it too many times while writing

[neo-shitty]

will i finally finish this son of poseidon!mark fic? for the first time since i started this, MAYBE. i’m hoping for the best and highkey hoping i didn’t jinx it by posting this.

#THE SONG INSPO FOR THIS #IM GONNA PUNCH A WALL #ITS SO NICE #also #idk if i've just been listening to it too many times while writing #but the guy kind of sounds like mark now #toff.txt

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #nico hischier #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk #mackie samoskevich

[stayconnecteed]

❪⠀🪐. memories⠀𓏔⠀hwang hyunjin⠀❫

you were in love, until you weren't anymore. or maybe you still were, but chose to learn not to be just to heal from all that meant falling in love with him⠀★⠀2.7k words

content: tbh idk what is this,, i don't even know how to categorize it, i felt kinda sad and started writing, and i thought on sharing it here. plot,, the point of view of hyunjin after your break up. i would say angst but at the end it kind of good. reader and hyunjin don't end up together tho. warnings,, think of this as a beautiful relationship that turned slightly toxic, hyunjin was very very whipped for reader, the format is like a letter to you he never sent. note,, i wrote this listening to hannah bahng's cover of memories by conan gray, one of my favourite audios in the world.

─── Excerpts from Hwang Hyunjin's diary over a year after the break up.

September 6th

Yesterday I walked by that coffee shop you liked to go to so much, at the end of the street where you used to work, the one with the navy couches and old photographs hanging on the wall. It's now closed. On the notice taped to the door it says that it is for sale, that they were very sorry but they decided to go out of business because they could no longer afford the expense, to call the phone number listed there if you were interested in buying it. And I did. Call, I mean. I had that urge to buy it, because it reminded me of you, because I knew you would like it. I listened for two rings and then hung up. The couches were purple. I saw it, even though the glass was full of dust, and I don't know anymore if they had been navy from the beginning or you had convinced me of it, but at that moment I saw them purple, and the magic was gone again. I guess it doesn't matter now. It had been a while since I had been here, maybe they had to change them. To see if they could attract more customers, as you always joked with the owner. That's why you liked the place, right? It was quiet. Peaceful. You could barely hear the music in the background or the murmur of the street, and as much as you adored their coffee, we both knew it was doomed to have an end. Like us, I suppose. You were always drawn to lost causes.

That's why I called you. I think you had blocked my contact, but it didn't hurt to try. I thought about everything we had shared. On my way to the apartment I live in now I bought those noodles you liked so much, and the ice cream we had every time there was something to celebrate. The TV was playing one of those movies from the 2000s that we watched over and over again on Friday nights, even though we had already seen them, just because I loved that look on your face you had when you did something you were apssionate about. It seemed like a hoax. For a moment it seemed as if I could touch you, as if by reaching across the fabric of the couch you were going to be there, on the other end, waiting for me to finish dinner so you could snuggle up next to me. I guess it was one of those days, wasn't it? Those when you stop pretending that everything is okay, even though nothing was wrong, and let sadness win you over.

I don't actually think I'm sad, though. Not really. Just… nostalgic. I miss what we had. I miss you. Not in the unhealthy way I did in the beginning, when we decided to split up and I instantly regretted it. It's more of a warm, bittersweet memory that creeps up on me from time to time. Your smile, so beautiful and bright, how soft your hair was when you rested your head on my lap and I couldn't stop caressing it, how your hand felt against mine as we entwined them, the hurried way your heart pounded under my lips as I kissed your skin, how I felt your chest vibrate as I fell asleep on top you in the middle of a conversation… Now that I think about it, I think I've forgotten your voice. The temptation to search for old audios is too strong, but I'm afraid to find out what I would really feel if I get to hear you.

I have seen pictures. I have too many, so looking for them was not a big problem. I keep them on that hard drive you gave me when you got tired of watching me stress out because I thought I had lost flash drives that had never left my desk. In it is my favorite folder, the one with all the captured moments that reflected that side of you that you didn't let anyone else see. The ones I took of you when you didn't realize it, with your hair disheveled on our bed, your bare back contrasting with the sheets, still asleep; or playing with Kkami in the park, running next to her, with your scarf tangling in the wind and your smile brighter than ever. Those for which you did pose, with amused expressions and seductive glances, with our friends and in the intimacy of our home, those you approved of after I showed them to you, acknowledging with an embarrassed blush that you did look pretty, and also those you couldn't even see, your mind betraying you by making you see so many flaws that you thought you were drowning in them, so many defects I was unable to see.

It's the first time that the sight of you didn't make my heart tear apart. Each new file I opened was a memory that I could bring back to life, at least for a few minutes, moments that I treasured fondly, and that finally made me smile. Can you believe it? Me, who so many times left voice messages begging you to come back, who had to stay at home for weeks after breaking up because visualizing a life without you by my side made me want to die, the person who every time they saw something that reminded them of you would burst into tears, feeling the loss of your presence like the shadow of death, was finally enjoying those memories that included you.

You'll be happy to know that I'm starting to draw again too. I had thrown away all my art supplies when I moved, and I have all my paintings locked away, but the other day I stopped by the store I used to go to and bought a sketchbook. I didn't intend to do anything with it, I just wanted to run my hand over the pages again, just like I used to do before starting a new project. As soon as Felix found out, he bought me new watercolors and pencils. You know how he is, the first to cheer every time something good happens to you. He celebrates your victories as if they were his own. I guess that's what this is, isn't it? A victory. I've managed to win against the ghost of our past, and my reward is a nice charcoal sketch of a tulip. It's not my best work, but for the moment it works for me. Little by little, with training wheels.

November 24th

I would like to know how you are doing. Changbin hyung told me that you finally moved in, just like me. I guess every little corner of the apartment reminded you of me. I wouldn't have lasted long there either. You hardly talk to the rest of the guys, and it makes me wonder if you were really happy with me. When I met you you had your own group of friends, but you stopped talking to them to the point that all we knew were my friends, and each other. That was probably one of the reasons you encouraged me to break up. It wasn't healthy, was it? I find it pathetic that I realize it now, so many months later, although it was pathetic even then, with how desperately in love I was with you. I tend to get so lost in my feelings that I forget everything else. Sometimes, "everything else" is often more important than what's going on in my head, and in my heart, because in the end, thoughts are just thoughts. I wonder if Changbin hyung would tell me if you were having a hard time. You know that after what we went through together, I would come in an instant if you called me. Some things don't change. You can separate us, but you can't ignore what once existed. And I like to think you feel the same way.

I know you have a boyfriend. I've seen you around town, walking hand in hand, just like we used to do. I thought about waving, approaching you and introducing myself to the lucky man who can call you his, but cowardice gets the better of me. I don't want to make a fool of myself. You've always been sharp with words, and the last time we met was humiliating enough. I'm not talking about the last time we spoke, but when we met. That afternoon when Chan accompanied me to collect the boxes that were left in what had been our home, my name written in that chaotic handwriting you have, set aside in the entryway. We looked at each other in silence when you opened the door, and I never knew how I had the strength not to burst into tears. What I wanted most of all was to take refuge in your arms and for you to tell me that everything was going to be all right. Did you feel it? That pain? You always noticed it at first, it was almost unnatural the way my chest began to open with grief, as if my own heart was crying tears of blood.

You felt it too, I'm sure. That's why you looked away. That's why you didn't open your mouth except to wish me well. I remember thinking that it wasn't fair that it was going to end like this, that I didn't understand why it had to end at all. We were doing great. True, we argued, as all couples do, and not even that often, or that we were somewhat possessive of each other. But it was okay, wasn't it? It meant that I cared about you. That you loved me. That we would rather be with each other than with anyone else. But you looked away, and I shut my mouth, and I didn't have time to memorize you before I left. Even after calling you for days, when you finally picked up the phone and begged me to stop, even then I couldn't catch the exact tone of the words you had used to keep them in my memory forever. And now you're gone, and I'd like to think I don't care as much as I used to, but sometimes a person's absence is more present than the people you have sitting next to you. And it hurts more than the worst wound, because you crave something you can't have.

I guess we were destined to end up together and end up apart. It was impossible for us not to have fallen in love when you approached me in that library, with the book I was looking for in your hand, just as we were bound to untangle ourselves after a while, having to suffer through the process of accepting that everything we had built was falling apart. We both knew it, and came to accept it in the haze of those who have just found their soulmate, but only you were smart enough to see it coming and protect yourself, leaving me as the only victim. And worst of all, I know that had never been your intention, that you would never have hurt me on purpose. But I was doing it to you, and you decided to be selfish, pushing me away so you could move on. And after all I can't hate you, I can't even stop loving you, because you became so blended with my soul that removing you would be like taking away an essential part of what makes me being me.

That's my problem, isn't it? I live it all so intensely… It's exhausting. When someone loses the person they thought was going to be the one, they usually console themselves with the thought that they weren't the one. But I can't indulge myself, I don't deserve that consolation, because we were meant to be. Maybe not to last a lifetime, but for the little bit we got to share. I have had to say goodbye to you, to see you become a stranger, but the people we were when we were together are still alive, in some space of our memory, like a story written by both of us, one in which we each have our favorite chapters, and to which we know we can come back whenever we want, to remember each other. I know that at some point in my future I will be able to open that book and read any page and it will no longer hurt, that I will savor every word with a smile on my lips, the smile of someone who knows that while it lasted, I made the most of every single second. And I know that future is closer than far away.

January 15st

I have stopped counting the days since we broke up. I feel like I'm getting better, I know I am. Yesterday I went out with Seungmin and Jeongin for a walk, and I took my old camera with me, after so long. My hands no longer shake when I hold it. They started goofing around, and playing among the trees in the park with Kkami, and it didn't hurt me to say that was something you used to do. I told it as an offhand comment, as if I were telling them about what I had eaten the day before. Now you are just another memory in my mind, floating among the gray matter of moments in my life. You no longer hurt, you no longer harm.

On the way to the dance studio last week, the driver drove past that coffee shop. I don't know if you'll have time to go now that you're so busy with your new life, and anyway I guess coffee doesn't suit you as well as it used to, but someone bought it. And it's still a coffee shop. I went today morning, and I felt better than I have in a long time. The new owners have done an awesome job, and business is running smoothly. In the hour and a half I sat at one of the tables in the back, more customers came in than I've seen in all the years we've been together. The iced americano is delicious, and the atmosphere relaxes me enough to doodle in the margins of my lyrics notebook.

I feel attached to this place, somehow. You found us, and made us feel special. During the time we enjoyed your company, and your trust and love, we were fully happy. When you left us, we had a terrible time, letting our inner selves shut down, refusing affection or help. But now we are doing well. We've gotten over that rough patch, we try to look out for ourselves, we smile at life. And the couches are maroon. I asked the barista, who is one of the people who came up with the new design. I didn't want to find out what the original color had been, that will be something I'll never get to know, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. It was fun when we would go and spend minutes arguing about the exact shade. But now they're maroon. And I like that color.

I was in love with you. I know you heard me say it that night I came home drunk, when I chose to pretend you were asleep and told you how you truly made me feel. I didn't fall in love with you, I ran to you knowing full well that I was going to love you with all my being, full of devotion and ready to end up devastated by you, but I guess it wasn't enough. Now that I have slowly learned to forget you I know that in all possible scenarios we would have ended up the same way. We were so obsessed with each other that we didn't realize we were consuming each other, but that's okay. Not everything is timeless, nothing lasts forever. The important thing is not to regret your memories, and I don't regret a single moment by your side.

taglist: @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @starlostastronaut · @manuosorioh · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @atinyniki

© stayconnecteed 2024 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

#﹙ ★ ﹚ mars — writes. #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin angst #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader

[feariteriu]

𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 — 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

— MasterList!

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Miles takes y/n out for some karaoke fun and in the midst of it the sexual energy between the two seems to reach its boiling point.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: Sexual themes? Idk tbh just some sexual tension fr, some heated kissing.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: Miles Morales x female reader

𝗔/𝗡: I’m obsessed with this song so I had to write for it, enjoy! Would recommend listening to the song while reading this!

—

“Karaoke?”

You ask as you step foot in the building. You guys had four hours and he chose karaoke as one of the things to waste your time with.

"Yeah." Miles simply said, paying the man at the front desk and giving him a room key, "You aren't going to kill me in there right?" You said half-jokingly, you guys just met a few hours ago.

"Nah I wouldn't take you here if I was going to kill you," Turning back towards you he smirked down at you, "Too many witnesses." Rolling your eyes you shove the boy as he chuckled opening the door for you both.

It was a nice room. Big tv mounted on the wall with dim white lights flashing in the corner but not too much to blind you. There was a long couch in the center of the room with a table in front, on the table was a big binder.

Once Miles stepped in he closed the door behind you guys and walked over to the table, picking up the massive binder and sitting down on the couch.

You sit down next to him.

"So it's safe to assume you're going first?"

Flipping through the binder he looks for a song not meeting your eyes at first, "Oh most definitely. If I want this 'experiment' to work then I need to sweep you off your feet."

"And you really think one song can do that?"

Pausing he looks over at you a cocky-like look forms on his face, "Think? Oh love, I know I can." And you can't help the blush that rises to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat you turn away from him and cross your arms mumbling a whatever as he just laughs going back to shuffling through the music catalog.

"Found it."

Closing the book he sets it down on the glass table in front of you two, him not wanting you to see the song he picked out. Getting up from his seat he grabs the mic off the table and spins around towards you smiling. It wasn't a cocky smile though, it was a sweet one, one of his genuine smiles that you found yourself loving.

He unbuttons the first two buttons on his shirt and rolls up the long sleeves as his eyes lock with yours and you sallow slowly. That was hot.

"Gotta be ready in case the song calls for it." He says keeping eye contact with you the entire time. Standing in front of you he looks down at his feet.

"I," And the song starts. He meets your eyes, and the lights glow red down on him making him look hotter than he already did. "Now, I don't hardly know her," He picks his head up and locks eyes with you.

"But I think I could love her. Crimson and Clover." Yeah, you were definitely swept off your feet you were obviously gone, putty in his hands and he hadn't even done anything yet, the song just started.

Good choice Morales.

"When she comes walking over, I've been wanting to show her. Crimson and Clover. Over and over." You get lost in his eyes as the tempo picks up and he doesn't dare to break your heated eye contact.

His gaze never leaves your figure.

He continued to sing the song to you the room was starting to get warmer and you remove your jacket placing it down next to you.

"Crimson and Clover. Over and over..."

And it's right there and then that you could see your whole life with this guy. You could see yourself spending late nights in watching movies, going out on dates, sneaking kisses and glances.

You could see yourself getting married, how happy you would be. On your wedding day him grabbing you just as the officiant shouts out 'you may now kiss the bride' but it all falls deaf around you as his hands find your waist and your lips met, a smile blooming on your face as your lips meet.

You could see yourself being truly happy with him marriage leading to children and children leading to late nights under the starry sky wrapped up in his arms.

And when you open your eyes again he's right in front of you a dopey smile on his pink lips, "Crimson and clover over and over, crimson and clover over and over ..." He drops the mic and your hands find his face pulling him in.

And soon you find yourself on top of him, him underneath you your lips locking like you were both starved for you each other's touch.

Touch starved.

Your hands find his hair as you thread your fingers between his black locs pulling his head back as you devour him. His lips leave yours and you open your eyes looking down at him with a half-lidded stare, "Today is not a coincidence. It led me to you."

And he's right about that.

One hand travels down the left side of your body, stopping to grip your waist before continuing down to grab at the back of your thigh. As he lifts your leg to settle on his hip, both your hands find purchase by trying to grasp what hair he has on the back of his head.

Yet, you pull away. Again. Miles's pupils are blown and his gaze keeps traveling back to kiss your swollen lips, but you plant your hands on his chest and push him back gently. "Not here," You say. "We need to get back."

"Mhm. Yeah."

You chuckle at his still lustful expression. "Cut it out, Romeo. We're going to get caught. Miles breathes out deeply, quietly groaning as he hides his face in the crook of your neck.

"So, does that mean I win?"

"Definitely." And at that, he chases your lips once more. Drunk on you. Not even paying attention to the song playing in the background.

Crimson and Clover.

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #peter parker #spiderverse #peter parker x reader #spiderman #tasm fic #tasm!peter imagine

[statementlou]

Maybe you can help me understand. The LATAM promo content has been great in my opinion in quantity and quality. Louis looks relaxed and his answers show thought, humility and maturity, and with his usual sass and humor. This is the most he has shared of himself since his solo career started.

So it's become a real surprise when I've read a few anons write to blogs saying they don't like the person Louis has become, and they like 1D Louis. Another said that they think his persona has gotten "progressively worse and worse". And I'm like, did you not see the years and years of being pushed aside, of being told he had a bad voice, of no support from radio, of stunts, etc fighting for his career. And did they not watch or read his interviews?? So many interviewers during this past week have complimented Louis.

Louis can never win.

I agree, it can really feel like people are just not actually seeing the same content as we are and it's hard not to feel like some of this is that they AREN'T seeing it, like people go way too much off blogs' (often very wild) interpretations of what Louis says and how he says it rather than just listening to him talk or watching him interact with fans. Or maybe it's that they have been believing in these made up versions of him when he hasn't been around for a minute and now that actual Louis reappears it doesn't match up with those ideas and they feel shocked and upset. But if people are saying he isn't the same as he was in 1D well, it's hard not feel like they were NEVER paying attention and are just talking about the made up image of him that was sold by 1DHQ (or saying they don't like him unless he's twinky and flamboyant.) Louis said he "were a lot sweeter back then" and maybe so but in all the core ways, I think he's just the same as he has always been. If people don't like how that looks now that's their right, but he's not gonna be 19 again and he's fought hard to get to decide for himself what image he wants to project and has said over and over that he won't be going back to the 1D version of that, so maybe go find someone else to follow, IDK. Me, I'll just be over here sitting back and admiring what he's like now. I think he's the same as every time he does promo (charming, chill, funny, introspective and smart and willing to share little glimpses of emotional honesty)! It's been a while since he's done so much promo and with so much content to enjoy just now I hope more people will tune into that rather than interpretations of it and discover that for themselves. I am gonna disagree with you about one thing though: Louis CAN and IS winning, 100%, right now in front of our very fucking eyes!!! So who cares about the haters :)

#maybe if you just sit back and admire what Louis is like you'll chill out anons! #anyway I mean... unfollow unfollow unfollow blacklist etc forget the haters who needs to see all that #the only reason I was ranting about bad opinions I don't usually SEE the other day #is because MY POST was getting tons of notes with people's terrible takes so I woke up to an activity feed full of Opinions

[matan4il]

911 ep 702 first watch reactions

Man, IDK. Maybe I shouldn't be writing about this. I'm an Israeli. I'm currently living a continuous trauma. The end of 701 already felt a bit difficult for me. The start of 702 was even more so. And maybe I don't have the right to speak about this, being Israeli and watching a show that is American.

But then I think... yeah, it's an American show, but it is made knowing it will be aired internationally, including in Israel. It's an American show, and plenty of American Jews have family and friends in Israel, maybe they had a similar reaction to mine. It's an American show, and I am not American, I am probably not someone they keep in mind when they make it, but I am a human being, and as such, I have the right to share my experience. Even if it is unique, and not one single other viewer felt the way I did when watching 702, even if no one else reads or gets this. We are all valid as human beings, with our unique experiences, and that does include me.

It was hard for me, seeing civilians being held hostage at gun point, when 134 of our hostages are still kept in captivity, and when I heard so many testimonies from people about the many hours they spent staring down the barrel of a gun, or being under siege.

It was hard seeing people made to kneel with rifles pointed at their heads, then Norman, a character we've gotten to know more than the average vic on this show, being shot. There's a specific vid from Oct 7 that this made me think of. It was CCTV footage, showing a girl who was fleeing Hamas terrorists, and they ended up with one catching up to her, she was on her knees, the terrorist was aiming his rifle at her head, and she was begging for her life. He let her go on like that for several long and excruciating to watch seconds, where it was like... maybe it won't happen, maybe he won't shoot. Then he shot her anyway, and her body fell back from the impact of the shot, and then to the ground.

It was hard seeing Hen's decision in the field being questioned, by others and at times herself, while thinking of all the soldiers and commanders who are being questioned, and are questioning themselves, on whether they made the right calls on the day of Hamas' massacre, and the days leading up to it, which enabled the brutal, torturous murder of so many. I've even seen civilians do that, like Rami Davidian, who's being interviewed by many for being a hero, driving into the scene of carnage repeatedly to save others, most of them strangers, and at least once I heard him saying he feels guilty and sorry for all the people he failed to save.

It was hard watching Bobby and Athena saying their last goodbye to each other, when I have spent almost half a year listening to people sharing their last conversations with their loved ones, and watching too many saying their last goodbye at funerals. I just recently wrote about Libby Cohen Meguri's last phone call to her family, when she had already been shot, and all she wanted was to tell them that she loves them, but her mom was too in denial.

I feel like I should say something about the storytelling, about how great the show is again, how this is a multi-ep disaster done right, with the correct balance between the regular emergencies, the big one, and the personal lives of our protagonists with their familial love for each other, with a great build up, both from one ep to the next, and within the eps themselves... A part of me does notice and is happy about that.

But most of me just can't. That's trauma for you, I guess. And to borrow the words of one Eddie Diaz, I'm scared that I will never feel normal again.

#personal #911 spoilers #911 #911 abc #911abc #911 on abc #911onabc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 meta #chimney han #maddie buckley #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson #911reactions #9-1-1 #israel

[crazypsychonerdstuff]

Excuse the extremely detailed request, but if you are ok with it, could you do a Black Hat x reader oneshot where the reader is a demon/eldritch abomination similar to Black Hat and they work for him and they both have feelings for eachother but neither of them say anything for a long time and it eventually takes reader getting injured in some way for him to confess to her?

For some background to where the idea came from, My horse pushed me over the other day into a patch of nettles and they stung my hand and arm pretty bad and I had a reaction that meant I needed to get antihistamines from the doctor because it was so bad. while I was recovering, I was struggling to do everyday tasks as the grip in my hand was affected, and I kept dropping stuff and not able to grip thinklgs like door handles properly! It got me thinking how would our favourite eldritch horror react if the person he secretly cared about was injured? Not enough to put them out of action completely, but more just an inconvenience that was affecting their day to day life?

I also remember thinking at one point "what if he kissed it better? Like, his kisses literally made it better? eldritch saliva having healing properties or something?" Idk. It popped into my head and it seemed like an interesting concept at the time!

Sorry if this is too detailed or weird! You don't have to write it if you don't want to! I just don't see many active blogs that write for Black Hat at the moment!

-🍉

Oh no! Hope you're feeling better now! Bad horse!

Sorry this is so late btw... it's been sat half finished in my drafts since before Christmas! 😱

Hope this will suffice! It's been too long since I've written anything other than headcanons!! I think the extra detail and context actually helped me write this, so thanks!

CW: mildly suggestive? If you squint? Thought I'd mention it just in case. Eldritch abomination licks your hand. So if that makes anyone uncomfortable, I guess... 🤷

Anyhow, without further ado:

CRASH!

That was the fourth time you'd dropped something today. Luckily though, it was almost time for you to retire from your cleaning duties for the night, but before you had chance to pick up the dropped items, Black Hat growled at you, his fangs showing in a vicious snarl. "What's wrong with you?! you're being even more of a klutz than usual."

You growled back, not intimidated in the least by the other eldritch creature. "I hurt my hand earlier, but what do you care?"

Black Hat huffed and rolled his eyes, his voice becoming softer than you though possible for him: "Why didn't you say something? What did you do?" he put his pen down and turned to face you fully; 'was he actually implying he was going to listen to me?' You thought in disbelief.

"I fell in some of those damned 'killer nettles' of yours when I went out to fetch something." You snarled back, fangs showing slightly in agitation, though any malice remaining in your voice no longer directed at the other Demon but at yourself for your own clumsiness.

His face dropped, the remainder of his malevolent snarl transforming to a look of pure worry, something that looked unsettlingly foreign coming from him: "You bloody idiot! Why didn't you tell me? Those things cause paralysis, you're lucky you're not human, or you'd likely be unable to move for days at the very least. You could be dead!"

You were taken aback by his clear concern, thoughts rushing through your head 'Was he alright? This wasn't like him. Was this even Black Hat sat in front of you right now?' You looked at him not quite sure what to say or do. "Sir?"

"Come here. And don't call me 'sir' when we're alone." His voice was quiet, and despite maintaining his usual air of confidence, the eldritch being refused eye contact, instead looking to the papers on his desk.

"But Si- Black Hat..." as if you were not already confused, his lack of spite really threw you off guard.

"Just come here, will you?" he held out a gloved hand to you. "I just want to check the damage it's done. I'm not going to bite you." If you didn't know better, you'd have said that a small smirk played on his lips at that last comment.

Hesitantly, you took a step toward him, reaching out your injured hand to rest it in his outstretched one. The moment your hands came into contact with each other, he gently pulled you over to where he was sat, the suddenness of the movement causing you to lose your balance and fall into his lap.

Black Hat grinned. "Not so bad, was it? Now, let me see the damage." He turned your hand over in his own, which was surprisingly warm. You'd always imagined he'd be cold for some reason...

You breathed an internal sigh of relief when his attention was no longer on your face and instead on your hand, for by now, you were certain your face had become a shade of red to rival a tomato.

"It could have been a lot worse, but luckily for you, your reactions seem similar to my own. Without treatment, it should return to normal in a few days." he looked back up at you after assessing the damage done to your hand, "but..." and he paused, bringing your injured hand up to his lips and softly kissed the stinging wound.

If you weren't blushing before, you sure as hell were now. 'Who was this man? And what had he done with my boss?' You thought, a mild panic seeping into you at the out of character display of affection.

Ok, so it was no big secret that you had a crush on the other demon, so needless to say, you quite enjoyed the affection he was practically showering you with - for him at least - but it still seemed wrong, or at least a little off; this was not like Black Hat at all.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to shut it again, unable to form words as his forked tongue slipped out to gently lick the stinging red patch covering the palm of your hand and part of your wrist, all the time maintaining eye contact. Despite the embarrassing position, you were beyond grateful for the fact that you were sitting down as you was positive that, had you been standing, your legs would have given out the moment his lips touched your skin.

"... But, with the appropriate remedy, it should be better by tomorrow morning." The eldritch creature smiled, actually smiled - not his usual malevolent, twisted grin - at you. "As you know, to lesser beings, an eldritch being such as myself's saliva is positively lethal, but to a creature of a similar nature, it has rather potent healing properties." The eldritch's arm around your waist tightened slightly, pulling you back against his firm chest.

"Black -" your voice was barely above a whisper, too stunned to say much else.

He purred quietly next to your ear in response before nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "You have no idea what you do to me, my dear."

his quiet voice, along with his breath fanning over your burning skin, sent pleasant shivers down your spine, and it took all of your willpower not to lean back and melt completely into his warm embrace. "wha-what's got into you, sir? Are y-are you feeling alright?"

"Never better, my love..." He hummed, leaning his chin on your shoulder. "I regret not telling you sooner, it's been torturing me since you came to work for me..." he paused for a moment as if considering whether to actually tell you or not. "...I love you."

those three words stunned you into complete silence. what had Demencia put in his coffee?!

"Sir... I-I'm not sure what is wrong with you, but you are not yourself... I think maybe I should get Flug." not that you didn't like the attention you were getting from your boss, just that it was not like him at all and you were by now convinced that somebody (Demencia) had somehow gotten him drunk for some terrible prank.

"Look, don't get Flug there's nothing he can do. It is true that I love you and I have ever since you came to work for me..." it was Black Hat's turn to avoid eye contact. "I know, you find it hard to believe, and so did I for a long time, but I guess flug has his uses after all, as it was his slip up that gave me the confidence to finally confess." The eldritch abomination suddenly didn't seem so terrifying to you. In fact, he seemed, dare you think, quite sweet.

You finally gave in and melted into his embrace; "I love you too, Black Hat." You brought your hand up to the side of his head and tilted your own so that your lips met his own.

#my writing #black hat #black hat x reader #villainous #villanos #x reader

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

Hello!!, I saw that you were accepting requests so I wanted to ask for a LS with a S/o who is a member of a punk band!!

PS: sorry for my bad english… I'm using a translator to send this:(

Since I already kiiiind of did similar headcanons for Formaggio and Risotto, I won't include them in these headcanons, I hope that's okay!!

ADDITION IM ADDING NOW AS I FINALLY WORK ON SOME DRAFTS HOOOOOOLY SHIT AM I SORRY I'VE NEGLECTED MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG I'm going to try to get back into a writing groove!!!!

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

La Squadra with an S/O in a punk band

Illuso

He makes everyone and their grandma listen to your band. He's boasting about how good your music is, he's practically a living advertisement. If you don't want people to get sick of your band's music, please try to ask him to stop

If you're the singer of the band, he'll sometimes start singing your songs, hoping you'll start singing with him.

Hell, even if you aren't the singer, he'll do it.

Makes his way into as many concerts as he can - his stand comes in handy here as he sneaks in pretty damn easily...I mean I don't really know if he needs to but he does anyway?

Prosciutto

Music-wise, it's not exactly something you two connect on, however, he recognises talent when he sees/hears it.

And while he may not listen to your band's stuff on his own time, he will never turn down watching you practice a song or an instrument either on your own or with your band.

Your sheer concentration and skill captivates and attracts him, he loves it.

If you ask for it, he's willing to give feedback when you play him works in progress - he's very fair with his comments, never too harsh, never too soft.

Pesci

He is CONSTANTLY praising you. Number one fan all day every day, supporting your band as much as he possibly can.

I've said before that I think Pesci's music tastes are a bit of everything, so he has a good appreciation for the kind of art you make and you two can bond over music pretty easily.

He's very nervous about talking to any of your bandmates, but he always asks you to pass along compliments to them. Appreciation for everyone! aughghghg i love him

If he has the time, and you're okay with it, he loves to help with performances!!! If you need help setting ANYTHING, he is willing to help out

Also...be prepared for a very proud, mushy Pesci after any of your performances

Melone

"You've been playing together for how long? And your biggest inspirations are...?" idk why I just think he would like. Be a major contributor if you guys had like a wikipedia page or something. He's interviewing you and tippy tapping away (there's a post showing off how silly he types, I need to find it again)

He's asking about all the instruments, all the equipment - if you'd be so gracious as to possible teach him how to use any of them he will be thrilled.

He's just generally super curious about it all, he possibly asks too many questions...as in, you're wondering if he already knows the answer and just wants to listen to you talk.

Similar to Pesci, Melone spreads the appreciation all throughout your band!! No one's talent goes unnoticed to him, and in time he'd like to befriend the other members of the band.

Ghiaccio

Watching you perform does something to him. He's completely fucking silent and his eyes are GLUED on you. It's kind of scary from an outside perspective but to you it's absolutely adorable.

He's listening to your band all the time. Ghiaccio, at least in my thoughts, has such a deep passion for music and pays deep attention to how each individual in a group plays their instruments, how it all comes together to create a unique sound. Obviously, this is a million times more special for him listening to your stuff because well...it's you.

In previous headcanons, I mentioned that he blasts music into his ears when he listens as a sensory thing. With yours, he likes to close his eyes and imagine you and your band are right there.

No because now I can't stop thinking about it. Ghiaccio would love to have a musician s/o. He would love that so much holyshit?

You find him in heated arguments against random people in the comments of videos of your songs. Classic Ghiaccio.

#la squadra #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #ghiaccio x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #jjba #melone x reader #prosciutto x reader

[fics-n-stuff]

Molly Ringwald is an Absolute Babe

Pairing: Robin Buckley × Reader (fem)

Summary: Y/N comes into the video store every weekend, and Steve is convinced that she's been flirting with Robin. Robin isn't so convinced, until a certain movie selection prompts a shift in their dynamic.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Despite my bisexuality and crushes on many a female fictional character, this is the first fic I've written for any of them. Idk how much I like it but Robin was occupying alot of brain space and I needed to write something.

You pushed open the door to Family Video and headed straight for the desk. It was right before closing on Friday evening and you were worried that they would be getting ready to close up shop, but Steve was behind the counter with a smile as you walked over.

“Hey, do you have the movie Personal Best?” You asked.

“Uh... not sure, let me check.” He replied and turned to the computer. You waited as he typed it into the inventory search. “No, doesn’t look like it. If you want, I could order it in for you, it would probably arrive in a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks. It’s from 1982, Mariel Hemingway and Patrice Donelly.”

“No problem. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No thanks, I’m just gonna grab a couple other movies.” You smiled and stepped away.

You did a bit of browsing in the romcom section and settled on The Breakfast Club, before making a beeline to the familiar shelf where they kept The Rocky Horror Picture Show and grabbing that too before you returned to the counter. You set the tapes down on the counter and handed your ID over to Steve.

“Rocky Horror again. What’s that, four times?” He joked.

“Five I think.” You chuckled. You looked around the store, your eyes searching for the other employee, as Steve checked out your movies. You spotted Robin talking to a mom and daughter over by the kids’ animations and smiled subconsciously.

Steve passed your ID back to you and you handed over the money for the movies, turning to leave with a thanks and an exchange of goodbyes.

“Robin!” You called across the store, and she turned to find the origin of her name. When she spotted you, she smiled. You smiled back, giving a wave before heading out the door.

Robin finished up with the mom and daughter and found the place empty after they left. Her and Steve started cleaning up, getting ready to close up shop. While she was sweeping the floor, Steve came up beside her.

“I’m right.” Steve said smugly, leaning against the counter. “I’m right and you know I’m right.”

“Right about what?”

“Dude! Y/N likes you!”

“Steve, no. We’ve been over this, okay? It’s not the same for me as it is for you.” She replied, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I know that Robin, but listen. She is here every weekend and if I serve her then she makes sure she says hi to you, but if you serve her then I only get a hello if I spot her first.”

“So she likes me more than you, big whoop.” Robin shrugged and went to put the broom away. Steve flicked off the lights and grabbed the key, and they closed up shop and headed to Steve’s car.

“Robin, Y/N likes you. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me that, Steve. In fact, you can’t even promise me that she’s gay.”

“She rented Rocky Horror for the fifth time in four months today. And every time she comes in she rents something with a babe in it; this time it was The Breakfast Club, and you can’t deny that Molly Ringwald is an absolute babe.” Steve argued passionately.

“She could just have easily have gotten it for Judd Nelson.” Robin refuted.

“For god’s sake Robin can you just open your eyes for one goddamn minute? She’s gay! She’s gay and she likes you. I’ve had enough girls like me to know what a girl looks like when they like you.”

“Wow, that wasn’t a casual brag at all.”

“Not the point.” Steve groaned in annoyance.

“Well, no offense Harrington, but you’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed and I don’t feel comfortable taking your word on something so important.” Robin said. “I can’t risk making a move without being certain that she likes girls.”

“I am certain that she likes girls.”

“Well I’m not.”

Steve rounded the last corner onto Robin's street and pulled up to the curb outside her house. She reached over to grab her bag from where she had dumped it on the backseat and pushed her door open.

“All I’m saying is, you’re never gonna get a girlfriend if you’re too paranoid to realise when a girl likes you.” He said as she climbed out of the car.

“Okay, thank you Steve.” Robin droned.

“Molly Ringwald!” Steve called as she swung the door shut. She responded by flipping him of through the window before heading up to her house.

+ + +

“Hey Steve! Did my movie come in yet?” You asked eagerly as you came up to the Family Video desk, handing over the tapes that you had rented the previous weekend: Victor/Victoria and Back to the Future.

It was Saturday morning and it had been two weeks since Steve had ordered Personal Best in for you, so you were hopeful that it had arrived.

“Yes, it did.” Steve smiled, producing a tape from under the desk and holding it up triumphantly. “I read the blurb on the jacket, sounds interesting.”

“Really, you think?” You questioned, knowing full well that the blurb revealed that it was a movie about two female athletes who fall in love.

“Yeah. I like a good sports flick.” He put the tape down on the counter and slid it over to you. “Let me guess, you’re gonna go pick out a musical before you check out?”

“Ugh, you know me so well Harrington.” You smiled, snatching up the tape and stepping back from the counter. He chuckled as you walked away, off to browse the shelves for a musical that took your fancy.

As you rounded a corner you came upon Robin tidying up a shelf and stopped dead in your tracks, your heart stopping for a moment. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and headed over.

“Hey, Robin.” You greeted and she turned away from the shelf to face you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” She smiled. “Come for your weekly movies?”

“Of course.” You chuckled, holding up the tape in your hand. “I’m especially excited about this week, Steve ordered this one in for me special.”

“Oh yeah, he mentioned. He said it was something I might like but I never got around to reading the blurb.”

“Here, read it now.” He held it out to her and watched as she took it from your hand. You watched her closely as she read it wanting to see how she reacted to the gay detail. She made a little gasp and her eyebrows rose slightly, presumably as she got to that reveal, but there was no indication of whether that was a positive or negative reaction. You held your breath.

“Yeah, I guess Steve was right.” She laughed slightly, handing the tape back to you.

“Sounds like something you’d enjoy?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll rent it myself when you’re done with it.” You smiled at that, hoping to God that this meant what you hoped it meant. “Anyway, um, I better get back to work and you probably want to find your second movie.”

“Yeah, I should probably do that.” You laughed a little awkwardly and shuffled around Robin in the aisle. “I’ll see you next week then.”

“Yeah, see you next week.” She smiled, then you turned and headed down the aisle and she turned back to the shelf.

You picked out The Sound of Music and checked out with Steve before leaving. Your best friend, Lisa, was waiting for you in the car and she gave you an in credulous look when you skid in behind the wheel with a sigh.

“You still didn’t ask her out, did you?” She questioned, but already knowing the answer.

“No, I couldn’t. But, I am almost one hundred percent certain that she’s gay now.”

“Oh, really? How come?”

“Well, when she read the blurb for Personal Best she said that it was something that she would like to watch.”

“Oh my God, Y/N, that was the perfect opportunity to ask her to watch it with you! I can’t believe you missed that shot.”

“I was nervous, Lisa! I let it get awkward because I didn’t know what to say.” You pouted.

“Whatever. Can we go to Jessica’s party now?”

“Yeah.” You huffed, starting up the car and manoeuvring out of your parking space.

“Next week. You have to do it next week.” Lisa said. “Otherwise you’re just gonna chicken out of it forever.”

“Yeah, okay. Next week.” You muttered.

+ + +

When you walked into Family Video the following Saturday, you were both happy and terrified to see Robin standing behind the counter. You walked around the store to give yourself time to work up the courage to say what you wanted to say to her, picking out your movies for this weekend.

With one last deep breath, you mustered your most confident smile and headed up to the counter.

“Hey, Y/N.” Robin greeted happily as you approached. “How you doing?”

“Good.” You nodded. “How about you?” You slid the tapes you were returning across the counter to her and placed the ones you were checking out down too.

“Good.” She echoed. You watched her put into the records that you had returned last week’s tapes before grabbing the other two off the counter. “Rocky and Mary Poppins.” She read the titles aloud with a chuckle “Interesting pairing.”

“Well, my brother asked for Rocky and I decided that I’m on a bit of a Julie Andrew’s kick.” You smiled.

“Nice.” She nodded. You handed over your ID to check the tapes out and took another deep breath to psyche yourself up.

“Hey, so, Robin, I was thinking maybe you’d wanna catch a movie with me tonight?” You said quickly before you could chicken out. You saw her hands falter as she checked out the tapes and hoped to God that you weren’t making a huge mistake.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She sputtered, a surprised smile slowly growing on her face. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” You grinned, letting out a laugh of relief. “The theatre just started showing Pretty in Pink, I can pick you up after work?”

“Sounds great. Pick me up after closing, about 8:15?”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few hours.” You smiled. Robin handed you the tapes and your ID and you exchanged slightly awkward goodbyes before you left.

“What was that?” Steve asked with a suggestive smirk as he returned to the counter and sidled up beside Robin.

“Um, you don’t have to give me a ride home from work today.” She answered a bit shyly.

“Wait, seriously?” He checked. Robin bit her lip to suppress her grin and nodded. “Oh my God, that’s awesome! What are going to do?”

“We’re gonna go see Pretty in Pink at the movie theatre.” She answered.

“What did I tell you? Molly Ringwald.” Steve said smugly. Robin smacked him in the arm before they promptly ended their conversation as the next customer stepped up.

You arrived back at the video store at 8:10, a huge grin on your face as you pulled up to park outside. Most of the lights had been turned off but you could still see Robin and Steve tidying up through the window.

You waited patiently for Robin to come out, your fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the music playing out of the radio. Your window was filled down slightly, so you heard it when the door to the video store opened and Robin and Steve stepped out, bickering about something or other.

You watched Robin as she locked the store, and smiled when she turned in your direction and spotted you. Whatever comment she had been making to Steve died on her lips as she smiled back, raising her hand to wave at you. You rolled your window down further.

“You ready?” You called.

“Yep.” Robin nodded, finding her feet and starting towards you.

“Alright, you kids have fun.” Steve smiled teasingly. “See you on Monday, Robin.”

“Yeah, okay, bye Steve.” She waved hurriedly, walking around to the passenger side of your car. He looked at you and gave you a wink before heading for his own car. You rolled up your window and turned to look at Robin as she slid into the passenger seat of your car and put on her seatbelt.

“The next showing is at 9:00, so we’ve got some time to kill.” You said.

“That’s okay, we can just talk.” She replied apprehensively. You smiled again and nodded before starting up the engine and heading out of the parking lot. “I’ve never, um... I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Me neither.” You said. “Well, not a proper one, at least; I technically went on one date with Bobby Harris when I was thirteen but that was...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a performative shiver that made Robin laugh. “So does Steve, like, know..?”

“Yeah.” Robin nodded. “I told him in summer. He’s cool, if you were worried about that. He actually figured out that you like me before I did, so.” She added with a nervous chuckle. You thought it was cute. “Do any of your friends know?”

“Yeah, my friend Lisa. She’s captain of the debate team.”

“Oh, Lisa Jennings. She seems nice.”

“Yeah she’s the sweetest. She’s actually been pushing me to ask you out for, like, two months.”

“Really? Wait, oh my god, how long have you liked me?” She questioned, a look that mixed shock and amusement on her face.

“No, you don’t need to know that.” You chuckled with a gentle shake of your head.

“Please? I really wanna know. I feel like it would be good for my self confidence.” Robin smiled sweetly. You bit your lip nervously, glancing between her and the road, before letting out a sigh.

“Okay. You remember that time last year that band and theatre both thought they had the music room booked?”

“Yeah, it was a shit show.” She nodded.

“Okay, well, while the teachers were bickering about who actually had the room booked, you made a joke. I don’t even remember what it was, but the face you made when you made the people around you laugh was... really cute.” You explained.

“But that was, like, seven months ago.” She commented, and you stayed silent, pursing your lips as not to show how embarrassed you were at revealing just how long you had liked her. “Oh my God, that’s adorable.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You mumbled.

You pulled into the parking lot of the movie theatre and slotted right into an empty parking space. You shut off the engine and checked your watch.

“We’ve still got half an hour.” You said.

“That’s okay. Gives us time to get popcorn and still get the good seats.” Robin replied.

The two of you headed in and bought your tickets and snacks, chatting happily as you went. You let her pick your seats and she sat you pretty much right in the middle of the theatre. You had expected the place to be a lot busier, given that it was a Saturday night showing of a big new movie, but there were only a handful of other people in the theatre so far. You supposed there was still about fifteen minutes for people to turn up before the showing started, but still. It was nice though; made you feel less nervous about being on a date.

You settled into your chair, a small bucket of popcorn on your lap and your drink in the cup holder next to you. Robin had the same, and she smiled over at you as she chewed a few kernels of popcorn.

“I guess I should have asked before I got here but, are you a fan of romcoms?” You asked her.

“Yeah, I mean, who doesn’t like a good romcom?” She nodded. “But I tend to prefer horror or, like, a mystery thriller. What about you?”

“I don’t know, I just like movies.” You shrugged, then added in a whisper: “Bonus points if there’s a pretty lady in it.”

“Oh, yeah, a hundred percent.” Robin giggled.

More people filtered in as the last minutes before the start of the showing passed, and eventually the theatre was just over half full.

“I’m really glad you asked me to come here with you.” Robin whispered, leaning in closer so only you would hear. “I would have been too nervous to make the first move.” She leaned back with an awkward smile, and you felt a goofy smile pull at your lips too. You went to reply, but the lights went down before you could open your mouth and the screen lit up as the first ad started to play through the speakers.

You had a faint smile on your lips throughout all the ads and trailers, sparing glances over at Robin every minute or so. When you looked over at her as the movie was starting, you caught her looking back at you. She smiled as she tossed another piece of popcorn into her mouth, and you suppressed the urge to grin by taking a sip of your drink.

Robin turned back to the screen, and your eyes lingered on her side profile for a moment before you followed suit. Then, as Molly Ringwald put in her earrings and applied her mascara, you felt Robin’s hand meet yours where it sat on the armrest.

You kept your eyes on the screen, smiling again, as you linked your fingers with hers, moving your arm to tuck your joined hands under the armrest to hide from any wandering eyes. You heard Robin let out a quiet sigh of relief and squeezed her hand slightly, very much looking forward to what was to come for the two of you.

#stranger things #robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #steve harrington #robin and steve #robin stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things fanfiction

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

So what was the thought process you and @twinanimatronics had for Moon and DJMM being besties?

Like I know that's a huge fanon thing (though i think y'all were one of the early ones) but is it something yall based on game data or character analysis?

Ohhh!!!

A pretty good question.

I think part of it had to do with @factual-fantasy's wonderful au and comics of the DJ being very close buds with Sun and Moon.

But I think there was a bit more to it then that.

I think I just wanted a fanfiction mostly centered around Moon and the DJ's friendship because they're both Security bots and are the only two animatronics in the Pizzaplex that go back to being "mainly chill" after their initial segment. (Moon showing up at every hourly recharge being super easy to avoid outside his initial Daycare Segment and Sun just stays in the slide all other times)

I also remember seeing the headcanon in @paper-lilypie's old comics that Moon had a music box, which was a popular hc, that Ceph and I have actually proved to be canon with our rabid exploring of the Pizzaplex map like its an archeological dig site.

Made me get to thinking if Moon used his music box often, what songs would he use?

Also got me thinking about how the DJ makes up his own songs on rotation to avoid copyright. He's essentially an AI generated song prompt, but far more endearing and self-aware. DJMM makes his own bouncer chase music to capture Gregory and that's pretty endearing to me.

Thought about Moon stealing DJ's songs to use in his music box. (and yes, I know real life music boxes are made with a set song in mind and he can't rotate them unless there are discs in there. But idk. lol don't think about the mechanics of this too hard of how a music box actually works)

Made me think that Moon would like relaxing Lofi beats that the DJ would make for him.

Lofi Beats to Capture Children to was initially planned to be five chapters. Just showing glimpses into the lives of DJMM and Moon interacting, from a more DJ-themed perspective, with the pov changing between Moon and the DJ...

But I kept adding more things into there.

Once I realized Sun had to be a character in this, the perspective strictly stayed with Sun and Moon.

Like an OC that was meant to just be a foil, and die for character development for the Daycare Attendant turned out to be more complex then I thought as he just became a worse version of myself and I wanted to see him get better so I made a spin-off entirely about him.

I realized I wanted to have Vanny in this, because I love Vanessa. I wanted to show the toxic but completely codependent relationship the DCA has with Vanessa. Because... Well, let's face it, Vanessa is a non-character in her own game. Many fans don't love her in the way I do. Even the most hard wired DCA fans don't really have anything to say about Vanny/Vanessa.... and either ignore she exists... or she's a meangirl background character not important to the plot. Despite the fact that Vanny and Moon's relationship is the driving force for so many things that happen in Security Breach. To the point where the Daycare Attendant is literally a thematic parallel to the Vanny/Vannessa relationship... Something I've been screaming about since Security Breach came out and no one listened.... But I was right. To the Point it's explicitly confirmed in Help Wanted 2.

And I also realized that if Sun was going to be a character, I had to establish life for them for a good chunk of it and how fast things go down. I had to determine whether I wanted them to be their separate things, or one person with DID. And ... While I do think that DID is actually canon..... it's something I don't have experience with writing, and I feel that I would end up saying or portraying it offensively. Especially since the DCA already kinda has the "bad alter" archetype in canon. Plus, to coexist with Twins where they get seperated and they're learning to be their own people... It just makes more sense to have a level of miscommunication between the two. So we understand Sun's fear and need for control. (like in canon Sun has no reason to string up fairylights in his dark room... other then just to never have moon switch over and make him uncomfortable. There's no kids in their room to capture. The generators can stay on in the pizzaplex and their room could be dark and the children would be safe. Sun is making it so Moon can't switch at all... and while that is horrible for Moon, it's important to see where that level of distrust and anger and controlling behavior stems from, and why Moon might be afraid of him in twins)

And If I wanted the DJMM to be friends with Moon, I also needed excuses for Moon to go there. I also needed to consider his relationship with the other Glamrocks and animatronics in the pizzaplex. I had to show how isolated Sun was and how much Sun cared for the kids, genuinely.

So the whole thing snowballed and it sometimes becomes intimidating to work on.

I guess long story short... The DJ is cool. And Moon is cool. I love them both and they make a really great non-verbal pair.

I absolutely love Lofi. So thanks for sending this ask. I know I haven't updated in awhile. But you think being unemployed would give me more freetime... lol but I'm mostly depressed and stressed.

#fnaf #lofi beats to capture children to #fnaf fanfic #danachan's asks #danachan's replies

[psychospore]

A Second Chance

This has been sitting in my WIP pile for a while but I've finally finished writing this!

I do hope you enjoy the sequel to In Another Life inspired by @just-someone11 comment

Ok listen i knew it would be angst. I pushed back reading this knowing it would be angst but still :((((((. wonderfully written and if you find the inspiration maybe you could write Loki meeting y/n in the new life? Idk maybe as tom and yn.....oh oh oh or after Loki dies, so more reuniting in the afterlife

If you like more, check out my Masterlist

Summary: An alternate life brings you and Loki together, along with it is the realization that whatever timeline you may be - you are both connected to each other

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, fluff, multiverse stuff,

You've always hated winter - maybe it's the numbing cold that you had to endure every time you have to go out or the fact that everything around you is devoid of color because of the accumulating snow.

This time around, you despised it because you had to walk home into the blizzard under heavy layers of clothing after covering an extra shift for your co-worker who caught the flu in this weather.

You buried your hands inside the fluffy pockets of your coat and hid your face under your scarf to shield you.

Loki and Thor ran through the snow-covered streets of New York chasing after the remaining HYDRA super soldier that stole a rune dagger made from the stinger of a creature from Jotunheim. The same creature in the stories guards the powerful orb. Both are directly connected to each other and have the ability to link the minds of the person's variants, accessing the past, present, and future of one's self in different multiverses. HYDRA was supposed to use the dagger to learn how to unlock this knowledge on Earth, as everything connected to it has been long lost in Asgard. The soldier was almost successful in getting away after fending off Thor and Loki by spreading nerve gas and creating chaos along the way.

────────────────────────

As you were lost in your thoughts, you noticed people around you starting to scramble and run away. You tried assessing the situation and noticed that a super soldier was headed in your direction. You made sure that the people were safe before stepping in and blocking the super soldier. He triggered an unpleasant piece of memory you tried to bury deep in your subconscious.

He ran straight at you, but you were able to use his momentum to throw him straight to the ground and drop an axe kick to his gut before punching him square in the face for good measure, knocking him senseless with a few broken bones.

Before starting your new life as an EMT in New York, you were secretly trained to become an assassin for years by your HYDRA captors after they discovered you were frozen in a lake in Antarctica. You exhibited great fighting skills, exceeding super soldiers even without using the serum, despite lacking any hint of memory prior to being captured. They tried experimenting on you way too many times to discover what you are or where you're from—the best they could come up with was that you were not from Earth.

You were staring down at the unconscious soldier beneath you when your scarf flew away. You scrambled to catch it, but someone got to it first. You looked at the person, and your heart pounded like a battering ram against your chest. You took the scarf and meekly said thanks, but your eyes were locked against each other.

For years, you were their best hit person, until one night you were tasked with dispatching the scientist who's been taking care of you since you arrived at the facility, as she was discovered to be a spy for SHIELD. In her dying breath, she urged you to discover who you truly were and not what HYDRA just wanted you to be. It made you run away to start a new life and be who you are now. Maybe in this new life, you could save lives instead of taking them away.

"Isn't that…" Thor whispered to Loki.

"Y/N?" Loki said as he looked at you intently, etching your very being in his mind.

"Oh no, I'm not y/n. You must have gotten the wrong person."

Nobody had ever called you y/n before but it felt like it always has when Loki says it. It felt like your name was y/n all this time, despite this being your first time hearing it. Was it even the first time?

You got lost in your thoughts when a familiar, searing heat ran through your back. Thor was quick to disarm the now-conscious soldier when he found out he used the rune dagger to stab you. Loki caught you in his arms before you started convulsing.

Memories of all of yourselves flashed before your eyes—what was, what is, and what will be all flashing before you, even your lost memory. You saw the timeline where both you and Loki died after you tried obtaining the orb by Odin's orders. You saw how you fought and defeated the creature in a different universe, with you dying before Loki could get to you and him dying in grief because of your death, encased in permafrost in Jotunheim.

There was also a brighter alternate reality where Loki was a famous actor going by the name of Tom, and there was you—a young scientist working at his grandfather's company. You caught his eye when he came there for a visit, and everything started when he invited you for a cup of coffee. You ended up marrying him and having a daughter together. It was perfect how you welcome him with a kiss every time he comes home from work and your daughter rushes to be carried in her father's arms.

You saw your own past in this universe before you arrived on Earth, Loki was about to confess his love for you when you arrived from one of your battles, and you were about to too, but Odin did not like that, so before you both could, he sent you away to obtain the orb in exchange for his blessing.

In this timeline, Loki thought you knew about his intention and you decided to run away, so he did not pursue you any further, but the reality was that, instead of facing the creature, Laufey found you first and fought against you. Your prowess and resilience made him admire you as a warrior. Instead of killing you, he ended up wiping all of your memory using the orb and banishing you to Midgard, where you were encased in permafrost, which HYDRA discovered.

It felt like forever processing everything all at once, but Loki held you tightly in his arms to protect you from hurting yourself as tears flooded your eyes. You passed out in his arms shortly after. One thing is for sure, in every timeline - you are connected to Loki by the red string of fate.

"What do you intend to do, brother, with the dagger and with her?" Thor asked, handing him the dagger and glancing at you.

Loki took the dagger and used his seidr to vanish it away. "We need to get to the bottom of this. But for now, I need to protect y/n, more than ever. I can't bear to lose her again, brother. We are bringing her to the tower for now; then we must head to Asgard." He spoke as he looked at you. He tucked in the stray hair covering your face behind your ears to take a closer look—you are indeed his y/n, the love of his life.

There are a million things running through his mind right now, but seeing you, he knew he had found a part of him that he tried to lock away when you were gone, a part that loved you and connected both of you against time, space, and all of the multiverse. He swore secretly to himself that he wouldn't lose you again—not in this timeline at least.

#loki and thor #loki marvel #loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x ofc #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #loki x reader fic #loki x reader fluff #loki fiction #loki fluff #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fic recs #loki x y/n #loki of asgard #loki x reader insert #loki x yn #loki x original character #loki fandom #loki laufeyson imagine #loki angst #loki au #loki laufesyon x reader

[bearseulgs]

enhypen's reaction to their s/o dressing nicely for an important meeting

gn!reader x ot7

genre: fluff

wc: 1070

warnings: none that i've found !

requested!! tysm

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Heeseung ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

you hadn't informed him of tonight's big meeting at the company that you're interning for 😭

it was a staff only event meant to discuss the details on their new marketing project

so you hadn't deemed it important for him to know

so you can imagine his surprise when you walk out in a new outfit looking expensive af (slay)

"hey honey... do we have a date tonight? did i forget?" he asked, already pulling out his phone to check his calendar

you had to assure him that there was no date and he hadn't forgotten before explaining that you had a meeting to attend

when he calmed down, he didn't say much but his mind was running a mile a minute

a bit jealous that your coworkers get to see you like that but he doesn't 💔

gives u many many kisses before you leave mwah

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Jay ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

your # 1 hype man fr

you told him that your workplace had an opening event tomorrow and that you had a company-wide meeting today to discuss any last many details and go over the plan once more

but OH NO 😱 you didn't know what to wear DUN DUN DUN

lucky for you you have the handsomest most fashionable bf in the whole wide world to help you teehee

so OFC Jay over here raids both your and his closets looking for the perf fit for you bc his angel has to look the prettiest it's just a last minute brief chill

once y'all finally pick out smth for you to wear, you go change and come out and WOAH he must've seen a real angel this time bc you look amazing

he thinks he fell in love all over again 🥹

sends you off to your meeting with the proudest smile on his face bc that's his s/o

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Jake ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

knew about the meeting

you practically had to rely on him to be your calendar bc even when you write things down you forget them 💔 (me too babe dw)

so he understood that you were presenting your new product plan to your boss today

he just didn't understand why you had to do it wearing his favourite outfit of yours 🤨

like excuse you how dare you look so good and walk out that door AWAY FROM HIM

doesn't say anything tho bc you're his pretty lil darling and he loves you ☺️

buys you new accessories while you're at your meeting as a treat for himself 😭

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Sunghoon ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

you actually work at Music Bank woot woot!!

you had recently been promoted to creative directer and you were presenting your first ever ideas for possible sets for upcoming performances (hang with me here idk how mubank staffs work)

and the MCs had to attend bc idk their companies like to see them suffer ig

but they weren't suffering bc you're besties w Wonie and ofc you have your lovely bf Hoon 💞💞💞

Sunghoon didn't actually know that you were giving the presentation so when he walked in on you and Wonyoung chatting he stopped dead in his tracks bc holy cow they're good looking 😳

could not get over the fact that he's dating you

eventually got cocky and started bragging about it to everyone who would listen (read: you and Wonyoung) that he has the prettiest s/o ever aw

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Sunoo ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

you were the CEO's assistant so you had to go with her to all of her important meetings

this time y'all were meeting with a partnering company to discuss product promotions

and you wanted to look your absolute best to give your company a good image!! especially since your boss won't be there today due to her kid having the flu so you had to take over for her ᕙ(  •̀ - •́  )ᕗ

you woke up, made breakfast, showered, got dressed, and when you came out all ready Sunoo was sitting down eating brekky

he looked up when you entered and he gasped so big that you were worried he'd choke 😭

nonstop praises from your bf, he had to make sure that you knew your worth

needless to say, you left with a huge smile on your face and feeling more confident than earlier

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Jungwon ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

your job was mostly work from home so you didn't typically dress up much

but the CEO of your location called for a big meeting that everyone needed to attend (i hope y'all know what i mean by your location, like the building you would work at if you weren't working from home)

so you got to dress fancy woo!! :D we love dress up

it was a kind of last minute message though, only 2 days advance, so you didn't really have time to go shopping and had to work with what you had

but that's okay bc you're cute af 😘

on the day of, you spent the morning getting some work done and preparing for this afternoon's meeting

on your way out the door, you passed your boyfriend in the living room and told him you were headed out

"okay- dang"

"what?" you asked, cocking your head, but he said nothing, just looking away to hide his flustered expression

you shrugged and didn't think much of it, heading to your meeting, but you stayed in his thoughts all afternoon

when you got home that evening he made sure to give you all the compliments 🥰

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Ni-ki ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

you have your first ever job interview omg!!!

you spent like two weeks planning your outfit and scripting responses to possible questions lol

but finally the day has come and you were ready to ace this interview!!

you had on a cute set of clothes that you had bought when you and Riki went to the mall w some friends and did your makeup nice and neat and innocent and professional

but you were still nervous ㅠㅠ

so you fted Riki like 5 minutes before you had to leave so much for great planning asking what he thought of your outfit and boy was STUNNED

like,,, speechless

eventually you got worried bc what if he doesn't like your outfit but he doesn't want to hurt your feeling and that's why he isn't saying anything 😣

but that was far from the case

he broke out of his spell after a minute and started praising you nonstop

before you hung up he wished you luck on your interview and kissed the screen 🥰

a/n: omg this was so fun to write bc it's like an idea always in my head, anyways stay stunning babes!! ALSO SORRY THIS SUCKS ㅠㅠ

©️ bearseulgs 2022

#enhypen #fluff #kpop #boy group #enha #hybe #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #heeseung #lee heeseung #jay #jay park #park jongseong #jake #sim jaeyun #jake sim #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunoo #kim sunoo #jungwon #yang jungwon #ni-ki #riki #nishimura riki

[zzzzzestforlife]

day 10 of 30 // take-out coffee, go! ☕

요즘 난 포드캐스트들은 좋아요. 언어들 공부, 쓰기, 와 친구들 대화. 다는 좋아요. 어제에 스트레스 풀기 포드캐스트를 들었어요. 여러분, 요즘 무슨 좋아요? (lately i like podcasts. studying languages, writing, and conversations with friends. i like it all. yesterday i listened to a stress-relieving podcast. everyone, what do you like these days?)

❤️ we're on a roll with the actual meditations it seems 👀 i think it's because i started doing them in the morning when i'm naturally sluggish because by the end of the day, i. cannot. sit. still.🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ TOO MANY THINGS HAVE HAPPENED and idk, it feels like i need to physically process or something 🤷‍♀️

📝📝📝 i was going to focus on Japanese today, but i only made that decision last night because i was scared of Chinese for some reason 😂 so i made myself do Chinese lessons instead and it wasn't too bad! but for some reason i failed the unit exam the first time and had to retake it to pass 🙃 whatever, i know that i know it, i just have mad testing anxiety 😭

❤️ journalled outside but it was too cold to stay out too long so i had to come back inside many times or risk frostbite 🥶

🥰🥰 it's been a while since i've done a full-body workout (rowing is my preferred exercise for this), i really enjoyed it thanks to my workout music!! and if i do it fast enough, it also becomes cardio, hehe

📚 almost halfway through All Creatures Great and Small 🤠 my eyes feel better today so i was able to read for myself today instead of just listening to the audiobook!

language learning recommendations 🙊

loved this video from BuzzFeed Japan. it's an all-Japanese conversation between a foreign-born Japanese and Japan-born foreigner 🎌 i didn't understand everything but it was very interesting to listen to from a language learning perspective and a cultural learning perspective ☺️

also highly recommend this video that goes over the 140 Chinese characters that make up 50% of the language. was really surprised by how many of them i knew and even knew well! 😇 it's encouraging me to keep going and learn more!

i also love this Korean podcast channel! not only can i learn a bit and practice listening, but it's just very relaxing 🙈 my favorite thing is if there's any vocabulary you didn't understand the first time, she repeats the story with the vocabulary words translated in-sentence!

aaaand another Kimono Mom short because there is nothing better than learning to speak Japanese from a toddler who is also learning to speak Japanese 🐣

中文：最近我喜欢podcasts。学语，写，和朋友们说话。这些都喜欢啊。昨天我听缓解压力podcast。大家，最近你什么喜欢吗？

#studyblr #langblr #30doi #100 days of productivity #100 days of studying #100 days of self discipline #korean langblr #chinese langblr #japanese langblr #zesty's life #astudentslifebuoy #heydilli #study motivation #study inspiration #studyspo #light academia #dark academia #chaotic academia #warm aesthetic #cozy aesthetic #cozy academia #self improvement #self care #self love #self development #self empowerment #that girl #it girl #day in the life #lifestyle

[hollywoodsargeant]

Pretty random question, but what are your favourite things about Logan? Like some cute facts/things about him that you like and feel like people should know

I think a lot of people judge him too quickly, he deserves more love and appreciation :((

this is an excellent question anon... clearly i have a lot of things i like about logan. i really like logan. in case if this blog was not enough. BUT. i will yell about a few random things since you asked (+ i agree people are very quick to judge him. give my boy a chance. i cannot tell you how many times i've seen people say stuff like "i wrote him off at first but he actually seems sweet" STOP WRITING HIM OFF THEN!) anyways. Favorite Things

there's a lot of insanity going on here i love logan so much did you know

first and foremost. i love how much he loves his friends... and just how outwardly he loves in general... the "heart on his sleeve" thing does come from somewhere. given really any opportunity he Will talk about his friends and his family and every time it Kills me like :( whenever someone mentions how long he's been racing oscar he talks about it and there's one where it's mentioned he was teammates with oscar back in f4 and he's like "well actually before that too!" idk. surely you know how i feel about logan and oscar but logan has emphasized their friendship more than once and always stresses how they've gotten along so well forever and even being title rivals in f3 never came between them... my little loscar heart...

and still on that. him and kyle. i love kyle kirkwood (indycar driver + friend of logan) if you were not aware and he does the same thing where someone will bring him up and he's like "yeah kyle's my boy!" it makes me so...... put him in his indy 500 top 3 prediction bc he's his buddy and knows he's good was asked Just about key lime pie and had to say "well my friend kyle makes a really good key lime pie" even after he just said he never really eats pie? idk man. he just loves his friends <3

AND HE LOVES WHERE HE'S FROMMM like yes a bit in a patriotic american way and maybe i only like that because i'm american but he is such a hometown guy he clearly loves and misses florida and all the people he still knows who live there. have you seen his 10 things i can't live without interview that video is basically just 8 minutes of logan sargeant loving florida. and he's so cute in that video i love that video but he can and he will talk about being from florida at any given opportunity (+ very much harps on how much he enjoys being out on the water) and i'm sure some people think it's annoying but personally i find it very endearing... and putting the flag on his helmet he is just a proud guy. i care him. he's said he wants to race the indy 500 too which also gets the indycar fan in me but he wants to race it bc it's iconic and idk most f1 drivers don't want to do the 500 bc oval scary (real of them) but logan is like. no i'm Going to do it one day. it's the biggest motorsport event and i will do it. I WILL NOT REST UNTIL HE DOES.

this one is a bit more stupid but i am forever amused by just how much of a younger brother he is. maybe i just relate to him bc i'm also the youngest of two (and my sister and i have pretty much the same gap he has to dalton) but he is so little sibling energy, especially with alex. he's a little menace. particularly evident in the monaco road trip video where alex tells him to lie and he goes along with it while also trying to make alex do it for him (he's so me) and the sandwich challenge where he whines every time alex gets in his way. i know benny's kid calls him his older brother but he is so little brother it's unreal. on the brother note this fucking idiot cracked his rib karting with dalton and that's also hilarious

I DON'T KNOW MAN. i love listening to him talk. i love all his weird little quirks like how much shoulder he puts into his walk and how much he fiddles around and can't sit still and the way he almost seems to make himself smaller?? this guy is nearly six feet tall but he carries himself like a much shorter man i think it's endearing. i'm really endeared to his smile and his smiling habits (see my thesis it's a whole thing) and also all his other weird mouth ticks he has several i love that he always seems to want to be close to people (he's very touchy. if you pay attention) i love how weirdly shy he is (likes sunglasses bc you can hide behind them) i love his incessant need to have perfect hair all of the time like see the monaco video i linked earlier where he's riding in a convertible trying to fix his hair DUDE IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN i love. Him.

man. i just think. that i love logan. he is my favorite for a reason. and even if he is a bit of a rah rah american (i lit listed his americanisms as one of my favorite things i enjoy them) i am slightly tired of him getting written off as just being The American or not having a personality like he's definitely more private about certain parts of his life compared to other drivers but that doesn't mean he lacks personality. maybe he is a little more softspoken too which might not help but it is there!!! he is not a piece of cardboard you just aren't giving him the time of day!!! giving him enough time of day to say he's boring but not enough to actually realize he's not

#ask #i'm sure there's more i could say but let's stop here #thank you for entertaining my nonsense anon #i love asks like this #i love talking #i love logan sargeant #most favoritest guy ever!!! #logan sargeant

[evilwickedme]

I saw in the tags you mentioned spideypool fic recs 👂 I'm listening

breaking the DC streak to go to Marvel because fun fact I've been into DC for six months and into Marvel comics for eight years so

anyway a majority of my spideypool bookmarks are from 2015 and I have no idea if most of them are any good which is an interesting problem to have but I still have a solid list for y'all

Say Anything...Except That - I was following this from the first chapter and I'm now mutuals with the author which was very fanboy moment for me (if you're seeing this, hi!). it has a lot of old school fanfiction.net quirks to it which might be a bit difficult to swallow if you've only been reading fic for a few years, but honestly I think this fic is really good and holds up to this day. it's been a while since I read it last but iirc Deadpool has to protect Spider-Man or Peter from assassination attempts and there's a lot of pining involved. also mattfoggy ended up having a nice arc because this was 2015 and Daredevil had just aired (this is technically incomplete there's one chapter left but if I had to reread it multiple times when there were only like ten chapters you can handle it)

under attack - more fics by people who are wayyy too cool to have followed me back and yet somehow did? anyway this is part of stackthedeck's team red slash series (ELITE ship fyi) but this one is spideypool focused and has some nice fluff. fighting as flirting idk what else to say it's golden

#NoPlaceLikeHome - do y'all know ask-spiderpool? you should it's one of the best blogs on this damn website and a must-read for spideypool shippers. anyway this is that version of spideypool's first time together which is cute :D short and sweet basically. sciderman has a lot of fics for the spiderman fandom in general and their ask-spiderpool au in particular and they're all worth reading

Dissonance - another longfic that took half a decade to write about deadpool protecting spider-man from harm. I actually don't know why this trope is so good peter really can defend himself but there you go

Perfect Enough - ohm y gOD this fic series is so good. this au hinges on such a tiny difference in peter's history but it makes ALL the difference. anyway in this world basically nobody has a functional secret identity anymore except for spider-man. meanwhile, wade wilson and peter parker start dating. so much plot, two separate longfics each around 140k, good luck this CONSUMED my life

speaking of consumed, rippling - this is part of a series called Into the Multiverse and is based on the Spiderverse film so it's Peter B. which I LOVE (spideybpool FUCKS). the series spun out of the authors' other series and it is, in fact, a pain to read the main entries in the series without reading the other serieses which means that I did spend two weeks doing little to nothing except reading deniigiq's work, but a. it was worth b. this one can be read as a standalone! wade jumps in front of a bullet for peter b and he angsts about it I love it

finally ahem speaking of Peter B, did you know I've been writing spideypool fic since 2015 and I wrote one specifically for spiderverse? I'm a mess (but I'm the mess that you wanted) is really a mix of spiderverse and comic canon like, five years into the future, and deals mostly with like, depression and suicidal ideation on Peter's behalf, but hey there's also a plot AND a happy polyam ending which, what else could you want really

anyway sorry the list isn't longer I didn't bookmark so many of my favorite spideypool fics and now they're lost in the void forever :/

#my team red or defenders folder is massive but so much of it is just daredevil #randomly I have five separate fics saved for jessica jones/matt murdock and I don't even know their ship name #anyway I accidentally clicked post instead of schedule so have fun with this like three hours earlier than intended #spideypool #spideybpool #marvel #marvel comics #spiderverse #fic recs #marvel fic #gail speaks #ask #anonymous

[thesalemwitchtries]

Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter Two

Word Count: 3,190

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries sustained through physical assault (no implication of sexual assault at all, so maybe goons beat reader up in her apartment, but they weren't total pricks about it?), There is mention of a man being a creep towards young girls and physical violence against him because of it, the girls are fine, mention of distrust of police/government, Also I didn't change Mrs. Cardenas' existing dialogue, but for everything I created it's in Spanish, because the broken English being spoken when two other speakers are present and when she understands English just fine and then also being killed off for white male plot reasons... none of that sits right with me, so she speaks Spanish and Foggy is accommodated by Matt and Karen, as is perfectly common in an American setting I feel. I know that it was for an English speaking audience but still, subtitles or something. Also when they address her in Spanish they call her Sra, just because I've never spoke to someone in their native language and used an English title, it just was too weird for me to write it that way idk.

Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

Also I am not a native Spanish speaker, I've been studying it for a long time, but I've been practicing French and Arabic more lately, which sometimes are all jumbled together in the Non-English half of my brain, so if you see something wrong or funky, please let me know, I would rather be corrected than go around not knowing, especially since it's my favorite language.

Another person might have struggled to focus when faced with the amount of turmoil that Matt Murdock was currently against. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily for those who cared about him, Matt had been capable of excellent focus ever since he was young. Beyond being able to tune out any extra input or hone in on the important bits, when Matt cared about something, he could drive out everything except for his goal. 

His problems with Fisk, the Russians, keeping Claire safe, that could all wait until after work. For now, his attention was locked in on the nervous woman who’d walked into their offices, claiming to have been directed there by Brett’s mother. 

Karen helped to translate as Mrs. Cardenas spoke, given her soft voice and more gentle demeanor, Matt felt content to let her do the questioning while he listened in. According to Elena, two weeks ago men came to her apartment building and tore into the walls with sledgehammers, leaving many people without power or water. Their landlord refused to answer them or help, and when they went to the police, they were told that there was nothing to be done, it was an issue for the city to solve. 

A whole building of people and families, left completely on their own. They deserved to have hope that justice would be served on their behalf. Nelson and Murdock could give them that, though it may take a few months in the courts.

The case that Mrs. Cardenas had brought them was daunting, to say the very least. 

Armand Tully had a reputation as a predatory landlord. His properties were rent-controlled by the city, which was the only protection that tenants had against his greed. Buildings crumbled under his purview. Leaky pipes, faulty wires, and poor security all combined to leave only the most desperate candidates willing to build their lives in his apartments. 

Tully presided over another twist in the cycle of poverty, ensuring his tenants had to spend their own money on these repairs and legal fees, money that could’ve been saved to afford a better landlord.

Worse still, no one could fight Tully. He kept barely within municipal code, and allowed other suits to be tied up in civil courts for as long as possible before doing the right thing. Matt and Foggy had detested running into his cases when they were interning, it felt like a betrayal of their roots.

To Matt, Wilson Fisk was like a blackout rolling through Hell’s Kitchen. Even when Fisk wasn't the direct cause, the increasing spread of darkness through the city was emboldened by his mere presence. The worst sides of everyone around him were encouraged, their greed and cruelty nurtured to monstrous levels.

People feared the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for the pain left in his wake, but he wasn’t the one inspiring lowlifes like Tully to start smashing in the walls of family homes. All for a quick buck and an investment opportunity. 

Elena’s voice wavered as she explained that the tenants had exhausted all of the options that they could. They were desperate, and it was a relief for Matt to know that at least he was still capable of making one right decision, it could even be easy.

Talking with Claire had him questioning if he really was doing more harm as the Devil than good, it certainly hadn’t been good enough to help protect her last night. However, if Matt hadn’t decided to leave Landman & Zack, he would be defending an asshole like Tully against a vulnerable woman like Mrs. Cardenas right about now. 

Maybe he wasn’t doing the right thing as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, in fact he was pretty sure that he wasn’t, but he couldn’t stop. The work had to be done, and if the city was going to paint people with sin, Matt would prefer it to paint him. If it did, then the people who deserved better could finally have better. Matt Murdock would be there in the daylight, always ready to listen out for the weak, to help them the way that God and his father wanted him to.

Karen walked around the table to offer Mrs. Cardenas a box of tissues. Meanwhile, Foggy was already moving on to next steps, thinking aloud about strategy; “This says Tully offered them 10,000 dollars to give up their rent control and vacate the premises. Maybe we can pressure him into giving a better payout.”

While that’d be the easiest solution, Matt knew before she spoke that Mrs. Cardenas wouldn’t go for it. He could hear her head and gold earrings shake in unison, and a whiff of aerosol hairspray accompanied the resolute motion.

“No, Señor Foggy. We do no want money. We want to stay in our homes,” she pleaded, barely holding back her tears while trying to get them to understand her position. Matt already understood, he wouldn’t want to leave his home either. 

Matt remembers when aliens tore a hole in the sky and started smashing Hell’s Kitchen apart— as if anyone could forget something like that. He’d been sheltered with Foggy in their broom closet of an office at Landman & Zack, desperately trying to understand what was happening, worrying about the Nelson’s, and dreading the possibility that he may die before passing the bar. Below the more urgent panic, as the trembling ground and ear-splitting attacks slowed into one of the worst headaches of his life, Matt worried about Hell’s Kitchen, his apartment, if there would be even a scrap of home left to return to. 

He had prayed for a long time that day. Just as he was about to reassure her, Mrs. Cardenas took a shaky breath and continued speaking. 

“Hay algo más. Los obreros, son solamente un ‘city issue’. Pero, uno de mis vecinos, Ms. Charlotte, ella fue… atacada por ellos.”

“They attacked her?” Karen gasped, pen almost falling from her grip. She and Foggy exchanged a frantic look, and Matt’s back straightened, posture growing as stiff as the curl of his frown.

“Pienso que si, pero no me digas lo que sucedió—”

“She thinks so, but her neighbor won’t tell her what happened,” Karen translated, stumbling over the words a little in her shock.

Mrs. Cardenas grabbed another tissue from the box that Karen had provided for her as she spoke, explaining that she thought that her neighbor had been hurt while standing up to the workers.

With Karen intermittently translating for Foggy, Elena explained that once, an older man had been following some of the building’s young girls home from school. Rumor has it that when Charlotte found out, she began walking home with them to keep them safe. One day the creep dared to say something inappropriate, and Charlotte maced him. She then allegedly stomped so hard on one of his hands that the story says she broke every finger. Allegedly.

He never returned, and she leads a pigtailed parade into the building almost every afternoon.

Elena figured maybe Charlotte had tried to stop the damages, having been one of the only younger adults there that day, working from home. Many of the working tenants were out, leaving only children, older residents, and few others. People had been scared, many of the children down Elena’s hall had gone to hide in her own apartment. Mrs. Cardenas also swore that she’d seen Charlotte injury-free just that morning before the workers arrived.

“La próxima día, la ví en el vestíbulo. Charlotte tuvo moretones en la garganta y las muñecas, y en el pómulo— la piel está rota.” Mrs. Cardenas spat out the list of injuries as if they stung, jerkily motioning to her own body as she spoke. Karen turned her mouth into the palm of her hand and closed her eyes, Foggy looking between her and the stone-faced Matt.

“What does that mean? Guys, what happened?” 

Foggy’s question was absorbed into the tense silence of the conference room. 

Matt pulled his hands from the table and tightly knotted them in his lap. It was good that his glasses shielded the old woman acrost him from the full force of his glare, Mrs. Cardenas wasn’t the intended recipient of his rage. No, it was someone else entirely that he’d be searching for that night. The Devil had heard its name being called, and wanted nothing more than to punish the kind of worm that would beat a young woman in her own space. His fingers twitched, knuckles turning even whiter from the force of his restraint.

“Seriously, what did she say?”

Sensing the lump in Karen’s throat, Matt took it upon himself to answer Foggy’s question as best he could through the gritted frown on his face. He translated what Charlotte looked like when Mrs. Cardenas saw her in the building lobby the next day, from the bruises on her neck and wrists, to the one on her cheekbone that came from a hit so hard that the skin had split open.

“Jesus, and they still claim that these were contractors? Maybe brutes for hire, but certainly not plumbers.” Foggy scoffed, shaking his discomfort off in the only way that he knew how. Unknowingly, he’d set the Devil to work inside of Matt’s head, achingly familiar with the work of hired goons. Maybe there was more at play here. Or, you could be obsessed and paranoid.

“Did she say anything about what happened? Give some story or excuse?” Foggy asked, leaning in across the table. Karen picked her pen up again, turned to a fresh page of the notepad and copied down the injuries that Elena had described. The gentle scratching filled Matt’s ears as he thought. He arranged a tentative plan of action, the rest of the day could be spent on gathering information, and once the sun had fully set, he’d let the Devil pick his favorite of all the violent thoughts running through his head.

 “Excuse? No, no. Ella no hablará con nadie sobre eso. Intenté muchas veces, y nada. Brett, el hijo de Bess, lo vistió, sin uniforme, sin placa. Pero ella, no… no budge.”

Shifting in her seat, Karen turned toward Foggy and Matt, head bowed towards the table as she spoke; “She won’t talk to anyone about it, Brett Mahoney visited without his badge and uniform, but she still wouldn’t explain.”

“Sra. Cardenas, por qué Charlotte no se ha ido a hacer una denuncia? No es ‘city issue’, eso es criminal, asalto con agresión.” Matt asked, wanting to know why an assault charge hadn’t been filed. Were there more cops on Fisk’s payroll then he’d thought? Maybe they’d dismissed the charges to cover up what had been done.

“Si, yo sé, y le dije. Nada.” Mrs. Cardenas spread her hands in defeat as she explained that even though she’d explained this to Charlotte, it had done nothing.

“Mrs. Cardenas, if those men hurt her, why won’t she file a report?” Foggy asked, brow furrowed as he tried to understand this neighbor. There were many reasons why victims of various crimes didn’t come forward, maybe if they could help to ease her fears, then they could move forward with charges. 

It would certainly make the civil case more valid if they were also filing criminal charges against the workers. 

“Pienso que está herida y tiene mucho miedo. Más por los funcionarios que los obreros. Ella fue tajante, no quiere hacer una denuncia, no quiere hacer nada sobre eso.”

This wasn’t good news for the civil case. Injured and scared, Charlotte wasn’t willing to file a report because she was more afraid of the officials than of the workers returning. She was firm about not doing anything. Matt wondered if someone had already convinced her not to step forward. Like that one scumbag had said, there’s gonna be another light in another window.

“Sra. Cardenas, vamos hacer todo que podamos. Foggy hablará con su abogado de la gentador esta tarde, y hablaré con tu vecina sobre sus opciones para ayuda. Estarámos en contacto.”

It was such a relief to hear that something would be done, to have a plan, and Elena sighed, reaching across to squeeze Matt’s hands, “Gracias, Senor Murdock. Muchas gracias.”

Karen led Mrs. Cardenas out of the office, and Matt explained to Foggy that he was going to be spending his afternoon speaking with Tully’s lawyers on behalf of the tenants.

“Tully’s lawyer?” Foggy asked, exiting the conference room hot on Matt’s heels, “Do you know who reps him?”

Matt grabbed his cane from the corner, not even attempting to hide his laugh before he turned back around, “Yeah, I know.”

“Landman and Zack!” Foggy insisted, arms gesturing at his sides in a way that agitated the air, the smell of anxiety wafting towards Matt. Apparently deciding that Matt didn’t quite get it, Foggy leaned forward, voice straining with hushed emphasis, “Landman and mother-freakin' Zack, man!”

Karen and her soft perfume breezed through the door behind him, having guided Mrs. Cardenas to the taxi waiting for her on the street below. 

“Ooh, sounds impressive.” She made her way to her desk with the notes and information from their meeting, “Are they looking to hire?”

“Oh, you wouldn't be happy.” Matt said, gesturing to Foggy with his cane, “We used to intern there.”

“Oh, right.” Karen bobbed forward over the desk, how could she have forgotten about the first thing that Foggy brought up whenever the cooling fall air came in through cracks in the windows, or when the lights flickered, or if Matt breathed too loudly. Karen had made the mistake one of her first mornings on the job of thinking out loud about how nice a bagel would be for breakfast. Matt had groaned from his open office, and before she could ask, Foggy was suddenly opining in the reception space about a place where there were all the free bagels that you could eat, every. single. morning.

Foggy flicked his hands around in annoyance, defeat and coating his dry words, “And they offered us a job, a great job. Which we turned down to go off and save the world. Now they hate us.”

Karen and Foggy shared a smile as he finished his speech, all of them knowing that he wouldn’t change a thing, even for free bagels. As much as he complained about their circumstances, Matt knew that he loved what they were doing, that Foggy wouldn’t have survived long in a place like Landman and Zack. 

Letting Foggy in was easy, it was impossible not to really, and staying friends with him was even easier because Matt saw that Foggy was one of those people that was effortlessly good. Unlike him with his devilish shadow, Foggy didn’t have to struggle to make the right choice. Greed and desire could tempt as much as they wanted, he wouldn’t cave, even if he pretended differently. When he knew something was wrong, Foggy Nelson would not do or endorse, and having him by his side always made Matt feel more at ease.

Already, he was moving away from sarcastic complaints, turning back to Matt so they could start working on a plan for how to approach this case. “We'll need to load for bear if we're gonna take them on.” 

“I'll hit the precinct to check for complaints against Tully.”

Foggy’s panicked objection was cut off by Karen calling out, “Is that before, or after you go talk to Elena’s neighbor like you said you would?”

He released the hand that he’d had on the doorknob, he’d been so close to leaving. Unfortunately Karen seemed to have her own radar for picking things up, and she wasn’t always keen on offering slack. Matt could sense, but was in no way fooled by the innocent tilt of her head. Beside him, Foggy’s eyes narrowed. Just one step and he’d have been out the door, no such luck.

“After,” Matt nodded, having to accept defeat, “Thanks, Karen.”

“No problem,” she chirped back, mirroring the sarcastic smile that he’d given her. Hands spread between the two, Foggy abandoned his professionalism in favor of once again being annoyed at Matt Murdock.

“Wait, wait, hold on. How is it that I’m going to Landman and Zack, while you go and talk with the damsel in distress?”

It’s not as if Matt could say that he was going to speak with the neighbor not just for the case, but also for an illegal extracurricular activity where he would be using his super senses to try and identify the assailants. Matt sighed, shifting on his feet. Half-truth it is.

“Well, from what Mrs. Cardenas described, it seems like the only way that Ms. Tanner would answer the door for a man in a suit is if he looked like he needed help. What was it that you call it again?”

Foggy threw his head back, groaning for a long moment before facing Matt again. Though his face spelled his disapproval, his eyes shone with the reminder of their first meeting and love for his friend.

“The ‘wounded duck’, you’re gonna wounded duck yourself.” Foggy said, one hand on his hip and head bobbing. His free hand leveled an accusatory finger at Matt. “I swear she better not be hot, because this is becoming cosmically unfair. You need a new phone for all of your girls, and now I’m going to play chum while you’re off being a hero.”

“Chum?” Matt laughed, hearing Karen tilt her head in confusion, before her hair rustled with a shake and she focused back on organizing the new files. There were maybe three whole files in the whole cabinet, but Matt could hear her moving them around repeatedly on slow days. So, almost every day.

“Yeah, chum!” Foggy burst out, leaning forward to hiss out a plea to Matt, “I can't go to L and Z alone. They're gonna shark attack me, Matt. Look at me, I'm delicious.”

“Well, take Karen.” Matt said through his chuckling, pointing over at the woman who had been trying to mind her own business.

“I-I mean, yeah, if she wants to.” Foggy stumbled and shrugged, taken completely unaware by Matt’s suggestion. His heart raced despite the way that he was trying to play it cool, and Matt fought off a smirk.

“Oh,” Karen straightened with her own surprise at the action, before tossing her hands up. “Sure. Never seen sharks feed up close before.”

Matt chuckled as they all prepared to leave the office, “Try not to splash too much. It attracts 'em.”

“You both are so funny.” Foggy huffed in mock despair as he turned to grab a coat. The two just laughed louder. “That piece of notebook paper on the door has my name on it first, you know. Which means that only one of you is allowed to mock me at a time.”

Already out in the hall, Matt called over his shoulder, “Of course, that’s why we were taking turns.”

“Oh wounded duck off, Matt!” Foggy cried, and the laughter of his friends followed Matt all the way down the stairs and out onto the street.

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