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paintingformike · 2 years

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the layers behind mike’s monologue: an analysis

or how it was him saying what he thought el needed to hear from him, which was highly influenced by will’s description of el’s feelings that were secretly his own. it’s also influenced by mike’s own feelings of being needed and his difficulty of accepting change, specifically the changes in el and their relationship.

so i know a lot of people have come to the conclusion that mike’s monologue was full of lies, and i used to be one of those people too and believed it because i thought there was no other explanation on why it contradicted so many of his own words and actions in the show. but after finally seeing the connection between will’s confession in the van scene and mike’s monologue, and understanding mike’s character struggles, i’ve realized that he intended the monologue to be his honest feelings, but you’re not supposed to read it as a deep romantic declaration of love for the el he’s in a relationship with, it was just him trying to respond to the el that will described for him in the van, an el that seemingly still needed him. those aren’t his true feelings for the el that he should actually be seeing in real time: someone who has grown past needing him and has made an identity for herself.

also, i feel like i need to put out that i’m one of the people that believe mike did have feelings for el at some point (imo it was just puppy love though, he wasn’t fully IN LOVE with her but he did like her and felt genuine infatuation for her like a first crush situation) but it was only for the el that he was able to protect/take care of and once she changed and grew out of needing him, his feelings also changed. it’s something he struggled to accept or admit to el, which will be an important factor on why the monologue turned out the way it did.

keep in mind that this is my own interpretation of mike’s intentions in the monologue and for other people it might be more complex than this but i tried my best to be able to decipher the most reasonable explanation behind his words 🙏

so i’m going to start dissecting each line (or atleast the lines that hold some significance!)

“el, i don’t know if you can hear this but.. but if you can, i want you to know i’m here for you, okay? i’m right here and...i love you.”

right from the start we see mike trying to reassure el that he’s there for her, he’s trying to be the person that she needs. he’s trying to fulfill his role of being the heart, the knight in shining armor that can also be there to save el with his words of support. he’s responding to what will made him believe are el’s sentiments! and also because he finally thought he could be worth something, a leader and a protector, after a while of feeling otherwise because he feels unneeded and insecure when it comes to his role in people’s lives (which he directly felt from his relationship with el). though what he ended up doing/saying to her didn’t work because it’s not actually what el wants or needs, those sentiments were will’s and not hers, but this is the starting point of him trying to genuinely return what he thinks el deserves from him.

then we have him finally dropping the bomb...“i love you”. we know that it took el sobbing in front of him and begging him to just tell her that he loves her but that still wasn’t enough for mike to just give her the affirmation she wanted. he couldn’t because...he doesn’t actually love her, atleast not romantically. so why is he suddenly able to say it now, when he spent the entire season dwelling on this problem? well, right before that monologue, will reminded him of the conversation they had in the van. will planted this different version of el in his head, an el that will never stop needing him, the el that to him, hasn’t changed from that girl he met in the woods (aka the el he actually had feelings for). and since will never lies to him and mike tends to trust him by his word, mike decided to believe him despite his suspicions and despite seeing for himself that el doesn’t actually need him anymore. he decides to hold on to the little bit of hope will’s veiled confession gave him, because otherwise he’ll have to see the current el for who she really is, the el that has changed and grown into her own person and hasn’t needed him for a while, the el that he can’t love romantically, and once he admits that to her he believes she wouldn’t want to be in his life at all in any way aka he’ll lose her forever (he’s wrong!). the reason we still see him hesitating/bracing himself before talking is because he still had a nagging feeling that it didnt exactly feel right to be telling her he loves her, but in order to really get it out of his mouth he tries to imagine he’s talking to the el that will described to him. he had will’s words at the back of his mind (this is also why i think will was in the shot the entire time).

“el, do you hear me? i love you. i’m sorry i don’t say it more. i.. it’s not because i’m scared of you. i’m not. i’ve never felt that way. never. ”

ok....arguably this may be a part where he actually lied, because we know for a fact that he has been scared of her at certain parts of the show. he was likely actually scared when he saw her hit angela with a skate, because when el confronted him about it, he was stuttering and couldn’t look her in the eyes (i also heard him stutter a bit when he says “i-im not” in the monologue). he was scared of her at times in season 1, like when he saw el throw off lucas with her powers. still, i think he was trying to convince himself here that those weren’t feelings of fear, that he was just really surprised with how she acted, but we know that’s not true. and mike was likely trying to reassure el because he thought el needed to hear that from him, especially with will telling him in the van about el feeling “different”, he probably associated it with el telling him she feels like she doesn’t belong because of her powers, that she’s a monster for it. however, el didn’t believe him because she did actually witness him being scared of her in real time, which is why the thunder cues are quite intense here. this doesn’t mean mike sees el as a monster or anything, just that there were times he was caught off guard by el’s actions and felt scared.

“but i am scared that one day you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore. and i thought if i said how i felt it would somehow make that day...hurt more. but the truth is, el, i don’t know how to live without you.”

mike is being honest when he says he’s scared that el won’t need him anymore. that’s his primary fear as someone who wants to have a protector/caretaker kind of role and he thinks that if el doesn’t actually need him then he’ll lose her from his life (which doesn’t prove that he’s in love with her, just that he wants her to keep needing him the same way she used to when they were younger). when he says “i dont know how to live without you” he means it in a way that actually says “i’m terrified that you’ll stop needing me because i feel like i wouldn’t have you in my life any other way anymore/if we break up it might strain our relationship to a point of no return and i wouldn’t be able to have you in my life even as a friend”. the one line im still confused about is “and i thought if i said how i felt it would somehow make that day...hurt more” (i might go back and edit this if i’ve figured it out)

“i feel like my life started that day we found you in the woods. you were wearing that yellow benny’s burgers t-shirt. and it was so big, it almost swallowed you whole. and i knew right then and there, in that moment, that i loved you. and i’ve loved you every day since.”

people always say that mike intentionally lied here because yeah, it’s pretty clear it wasn’t love at first sight if you actually watch season 1 for yourself. he wanted to send her to an asylum and only really decided to keep her around once he found out she recognizes will. but i think this aspect of his words shouldn’t be what we should be focusing on. the writers just put it there to establish that they’re a doomed relationship that isn’t meant to last. what we should be focusing on is the fact that he keeps going back to the time they met, when they were young and when el was just a scared girl who managed to escape a lab she was being experimented on her whole life. the memory he recalls was at a time when el actually needed him. she needed him to provide shelter for her and take care of her, to teach her new things about the outside world. she fulfilled his underlying desire to be needed and she was the el that he developed feelings for (though i dont think they were that deep). maybe this is also why he said his life started at that time, not actually intending it to have romantic undertones, because her needing him at that time made him feel like he was worth something (a protector and a leader in a mission to save their missing friend and not just some *random nerd*). but the thing is, he isn’t talking to this el anymore. el has long since outgrown the childlike phase of their relationship and has learned to become her own person, has been doing things on her own since forever and hasn’t needed him since. she wanted mike to love her for who she is now, to be more serious in their relationship, but he can’t because his feelings for her haven’t actually grown or developed at all from when they were younger and keeps clinging to the old dynamic of their relationship, and he simply couldn’t love her romantically once she changed and the dynamic of their relationship shifted. so yeah, these lines from the monologue came from mike’s honest feelings of still being attached to that younger el (which isnt actually true romantic love), just worded really poorly because he was saying anything that came to mind at that point.

“i love you on your good days. i love you on your bad days.”

ok so i’ve been thinking about this line for a while and how people have pointed out that this is a lie, because we do see mike showing signs of not loving el on her “bad days” in the show (his behavior towards her after the roller-rink accident, for one). but actually...this line might be a response to a specific thing will said to him in the van about el’s feelings. remember when will says this?

“if she was mean to you or -- or she seemed like she was pushing you away -- it’s probably just because she was scared of losing you, just as you’re scared of losing her.”

now, i know people have said this is 100% specific to will because from what we’ve been shown in the season, el wasn’t pushing mike away and she was constantly sending letters to him while they were apart whereas it’s the opposite for will where he actually didn’t reach out as much (because of his feelings). but what if...what if i told you mike interpreted this line differently in a way that applies to el in his head? what if he actually thought of a specific day el was being mean to him and pushing him away? and that time could’ve been during the aftermath of their fight in el’s room? just remember how that day went. mike and el were fighting. el was then taken away by the cops and she glared at him from the window of the car, showing no signs of wanting him to go after her. to mike, this might have been the one time el was being mean to him and pushing him away. especially since he has expressed to will that “maybe if i said that thing, eleven would’ve taken me with her” meaning he believed that in better circumstances, el wouldn’t have been pushing him away at that time. later in the show, we find out that mike saw in el’s eyes, during the last time they talked, that she didn’t need him anymore. the last time they talked at that point was after their fight, el being taken by the cops and her looking resigned and done with him. then we get will reassuring him that if she was pushing him away, she was probably just scared of losing him. in my opinion, mike connected the dots then thought...“wait, maybe el didn’t appreciate me going after her or didn’t take me with her because she was concerned about me? because it was dangerous and she might’ve lost me, someone she needed?” and i know that at that point mike literally saw in her eyes that she didn’t need him anymore but the thing is, will tried to convince him otherwise. will provided him with another alternative or explanation for her demeanor at that time. and if that means it would relieve his fear that el has stopped needing him, then he’ll choose to believe will’s words (even if deep down, mike was actually right and el was realizing she didn’t need him anymore).

now, how does this all go back to mike saying he loved el even on her bad days? well, it’s safe to assume that said bad day could be the day of their fight and el leaving his side, and when will provided him with a possible explanation for her demeanor that day, he tried telling her that he understands. that he understands why she acted the way she did when she shut him out, it was a bad day for her and he tried reassuring her that he still loves her despite that happening. keep in mind though that he said all this while he was led to talk to an el that still needed him, an el that came entirely from will’s van speech, the el that was seemingly just scared of losing him that’s why she was pushing him away. so although mike’s words were meant to be genuine on his side, he was still just saying he loves the el that will described for him (not the real el, who mike was actually right about understanding that she was realizing she didn’t need him anymore).

“i love you with your powers. i love you without your powers. i love you for exactly who you are. you’re my superhero and i can’t lose you, okay? do you hear me? i can’t lose you. you can do anything. you can fly, you can move mountains. i believe that, i really do but right now you just have to fight. el, do you hear me? you need to fight. you have to fight. fight. fight! that’s it, el. fight, el. fight. fight.”

at this point, mike goes on and on about el’s powers and abilities and once again, calls her his “superhero”. now, why did he end up doing this? it’s because yet again, he was influenced by will’s confession to him in the van. i want you to remember what will told him:

“she’s so different from other people. and when you’re different, you feel like a mistake.”

technically, the feeling of being different applies to both will and el. they’ve both felt excluded/discriminated for these identities and that having them was a curse. but here is where they diverge in terms of how they deal with it in relation to mike:

will: i’ve embraced being different and i feel like it made me a better person thanks to you.

el: i hate the idea of being different nor do i want you to treat me like im so special for it, because i’m just a simple person more than anything.

will has come to make the feeling of being different a positive thing for him. just mike existing in his life made him accept being gay as an integral part of himself. but el has made it clear that being different did not make her feel better. she didnt want to be seen as this unique case, a girl who has powers and bears the responsibility of saving the world. she doesnt want it to be the thing integral to her character. the distinction is simply that will accepts being different, while el rejects being different.

so when will says “but you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all. like she’s better for being different. and that gives her the courage to fight on”, mike understood from him that if he emphasizes to el how special she is and how her powers actually make her a better person (a superhero) and not the mistake she thinks she is, she’ll gather the strength from his words of “encouragement” and be able to continue fighting. which is exactly what he does in the monologue. he tells her that she can do anything, that she can fly and move mountains, that she’s his superhero. that she has to fight. he quite literally based all of this off of will’s words to him. and this is why the monologue falls flat and fails. because what mike believed el needed to hear from him actually contradicts what she always wanted. she doesnt want him to see her as someone different. she doesn’t actually feel valued or special when he sees her as a superhero. she wants him to love her as just a simple girl.

so even though will had good intentions and simply prioritized the love of his life’s happiness thinking that his veiled love confession to mike would help him fix his relationship with el, it ended up inadvertently making mike say the opposite of what el actually wanted from him. the more will tried to push mike away from himself and towards el, the more it doomed their relationship, simply because will was putting feelings on el that weren’t actually hers, but his own.

with all of this said, it’s safe to say that will’s feelings disguised as el’s, which were mostly not the truth of how el actually felt, was what mike used as a reference for his monologue to her, because will reassured mike about his insecurities and doubts perfectly, and made him believe that:

el still needed him (contradicts el’s true feelings because she’s changed and hasn’t relied on him since)

el felt better about being different thanks to him (contradicts el’s true feelings because she doesn’t actually want to be seen as different)

so when mike received will’s words, even though some things didn’t quite add up, he wanted to believe in his best friend who never lies to him, and tried responding to those feelings in the monologue:

“oh, so el actually still needs me the same way she always did when she was that girl i met in the woods. maybe i should remind her of that day just to solidify how she hasn’t changed at all from that girl who i came to really love. and she loves when i treat her so special that it made her feel better for being different. maybe i was right for calling her a superhero. maybe i should keep telling her how cool she is, how she can do anything with all those abilities she has compared to the average person. because it makes her feel valued and gives her the strength to fight.”

this led to el not actually feeling loved from the words that mike was trying to put out, which explains why she looked more in despair while mike was talking. she didn’t feel that he was being genuine enough even though his intention was to be mostly honest about his feelings, because he was actually talking to this mold of a girl that she wasn’t. he was led to respond to an el that will carefully crafted for him. what the entire monologue did was signify and expose how he didnt have true romantic feelings for the real el at that moment. and like a lot of people have said, in a way, he was just responding to will��s feelings.

in conclusion, the monologue was rooted in mike’s fear of change and his desire to keep being needed, will trying to prove his fears and insecurities wrong and convincing mike that he can still fix his relationship with el and maintain their old, seemingly unchanged dynamic, but doing so under lies that don’t actually match up with el’s true feelings, leading to a sincere but failed attempt of a monologue.

(although with the way s4 ended, maybe mike was already in that stage of accepting the changes, since he lets el be and doesn’t try to reach out to her even though she was clearly showing signs of not needing him, not seeking comfort from him at a time where she would have. he was beginning to accept that she really has grown and changed from the el that needed him, that their relationship can’t ever go back to the way it was when he could still feel *that* kind of affection for her, and that he can’t romantically love this new el as his feelings for her have changed since then.)

#i hope this actually made sense and im kind of worried some of my words might be misinterpreted #but i feel like i’ve hit the mark with most of it...i think #willelmike #byler #byler analysis #byler theory #st4 #laya’s monologue analysis

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eldritchgray · 9 months

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Okay, about Midnight Mass and why I love it so much.

This show is such a beautifully done piece of media, and Idk if I'm fully equipped to express just how impactful it is for me, but I wanna give it an effort. Specifically about the ending, because the ending is my favorite part.

Warning: This got long (also spoilers)

The beginning of the final episode is chaotic. It shows the worst aspects of religion, blind faith, and the church. The blatant hypocrisy of those who see themselves as righteous. The dangers of cherry-picking isolated pieces of scripture to justify every action, even the ones that cause others harm. Especially the ones that cause others harm. It's full of violence, gore, and fear.

The protagonists are the people who have been ostracized by the church for one reason or another. The gay woman, the Muslim man, the adulteress. They're the ones who saw how fucked up the actions of their church were first. They're the ones who realize the goal is to spread vampirism (it's never actually called that in the show, but that's what it is) from their isolated island community to the mainland, and they're the ones who choose to stay and stop this instead of fleeing to safety.

All three of them die in the process. But they win. They win against the rest of the town that was against them.

On the other side, is the culmination of every Christian self-righteous, judgemental asshole. She's the one who has justified every terrible decision with scripture. She's the one who looks down on everyone else in the whole goddamn town. I know several people like her from the church I used to attend.

In one scene she reprimands a man for saving someone who had never set foot in church, and says there's no room in the rec center (one of the two buildings left standing at this point) for him. The man who saved him says, "But I saved him. He was always nice to me." She doesn't care. In here eyes, since he'd never gone to mass, he wasn't redeemable.

It's around this time we see the people starting to realize just how horrible all this is. How terrible their actions have been. That they never should have started down this path, but they have and now they have to recon with the aftermath.

When the main three burn down the last two remaining buildings, the town's reaction compared to the self-righteous woman's is very telling. They remain calmly resigned, while she panics. They've already come to terms with the horror of their actions and their upcoming fate, and she is still firmly clinging to the belief that this was all God's will.

We get to see everyone in their final moments, and specifically we get to hear the inner thoughts the woman the town condemned as promiscuous. The whole monologue is beautifully written and acted, but it's this one line that really gets to me,

"There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It's a wish. Made again and again and again and again and again and again and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am."

When I tell you this made me sob it is not an exaggeration.

Everyone in the town spends their final moments coming together and singing or praying facing the sunrise. Everyone except the self-righteous woman. She spends her final moments scrambling for survival. The one person who could never come to terms with the fact that she was in the wrong.

The final episode begins with chaos, but it ends with an almost haunting quiet, as everyone looks into the sunrise.

This show does such a good job of criticizing the hypocrisy in the church and in having blind faith. It shows that going to church every week does not make you a good person. But it balances this with showing that having faith and having religion can bring people peace and joy, and that is beautiful and lovely. With showing that not going to church does not make you a bad person. In the end, we are all just people.

#fuck this got long lmao #sorry about that #midnight mass #midnight mass spoilers #mike flanagan #essay #i feel like im justified in tagging that #long post #my thoughts #my writing

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probablyscreamingintothevoid · 1 year

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thoughts i have had about yuri on ice characters and a bo burnham special that i need to get out of my head

i have given a lot of thought to my Yuri on Ice fic the last few days and i had a thought that i feel like sharing with the class. I've decided to write it in a timeline where the COVID pandemic never happens and the world didn't descend into madness in 2020. primarily because I originally came up with the idea long before that happened and I don't feel line including it in my writing. but this also means that the characters in the world would never get to experience the absolute masterpiece that is Bo Burnham's Inside. The argument could be made that they already exist in a world that Bo Burnham is not in. but I believe since Stéphane Lambiel - a real world figure skater - is seen in the last episode of yoi then Bo Burham has every right to be there too

this whole post is about the characters I am writing about, Seung-gil Lee and Otabek Altin and the versions of them that i have created. i have a specific series of events that occur in Cadence (you can read this post without having read it but it might help if you have. And same goes for Inside. It's on Netflix and I cannot recommend it enough) so anyways!!!!! if I were going to go a completely different direction with my story this is what I would have done with it

The two of them would start living together at the time the country they are in went on lockdown. It wasn't the plan but they found out that they do really well as roommates and they decide to just let the universe have this one. So, imagine this. It's the 30th May 2021 and they are scrolling through Netflix, trying to find something to watch while lounging on one of Otabek's many couches. They see a comedy special called Inside and decide to give it a shot on Otabek's recommendation - he's watched Bo Burnham with Leo and JJ a few times in the past and always enjoyed himself.

it is different from anything they have ever watched before. there is humor to it if course but there is something so deeply haunting about it as well. they aren't sure if they are enjoying themselves, they just know they don't regret their choice. eventually, Seung-gil breaks down listening to Bo's monologue in All Eyes On Me - "I began having severe panic attacks while on stage which is not a great place to uh... have them" He'll never forget his first panic attack on the ice, the way he thought he wasn't going to make it off the ice, the fact that there was no one on the side lines that knew what was happening, not ever. no one that could even see what was happening, not until Otabek came around

Otabek hugs his friend, helps to calm him down. and they hit play once they've settled again with Cho and Bear. Otabek's tears surprise them both, the choked sob that escapes his throat when they're listening to Goodbye and Bo sings, "When I'm fully irrelevant and totally broken dammit, call me up and tell me a joke" because that's his future and he has desperately tried to ignore it but he can't forever, he has to admit that eventually he'll be forgotten, lost among all the people who can still compete

I dunno, I could write a whole essay but I think I'm gonna call it there. I just had to blend these two things that I am passionate about. And then get it out of my head by typing it all out. It felt like a waste to not post it here. 💛 Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#yuri on ice #yuri on ice fanficition #yuri on ice headcanons #covid fucked me up #bo burnham #bo burnham inside #seung gil lee #otabek altin #jj leroy #leo de la iglesia #seung gil's dog #otabek's cat #my writing #yoi otabek #yoi seung gil #just the ramblings of a lunatic #fanfiction #ao3

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talesmaniac89 · 2 years

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The Man in Apartment 43 - Part 27

Series Masterpost (Complete)

Summary: Dean x Reader - Neighbours AU - Dean and the reader live next door to each other and can’t stand each other. Will things change once circumstances bring this bartender and businessman duo closer together?

Triggers: Talk of kidnapping, injuries, hospitals

Y/N = Your name | Y/L/N = Your last name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour | Y/H/C = Your hair colour

A/N: We're closing in on the end now! Just two more chapters and an epilogue left to wrap it all up.

A/N 2: In this chapter, some of Dean's "internal monologue" have been formatted in green bold italics.

Start Here | Last Part | Next Part

Reader As Sam’s whispered words to his brother were being drowned out by Charlie’s panicked voice, you gently herded your two best friends out of the room. Choosing to talk to them in the busy hospital hallway instead so that Dean could have some time with his brother, without Sam having to worry about you as well.

He needed some time to just be a brother, not your lawyer.

Yet, even in the busy hallway, you couldn’t take your eyes off Dean through the half open door. Your friends' worried words were coming through muted in your mind as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself from rushing back to the man in apartment 43’s side when his green eyes met yours.

“I was so scared (Y/N)... When Sam contacted me I thought…” Charlie’s trembling voice broke through your muted pain as you pulled your eyes off of your superhero next door to look at your best friends.

“I’m fine, I was… Dean protected me. I’m not going to lie, it was hell, but Dean was there,” You sighed as you threw your friends a small smile, your eyes flitting over to where Dean was still watching you before biting your lip and forcing your attention back onto your worried friends.

“And thank god for that,” Gabe sighed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. Pulling you close into a small hug as you let out a breath you hadn’t even noticed you’d been holding.

You were back home, and your friends were safe. It still hadn’t fully sunk in, but the feel of your oldest friend’s strong arm wrapping you up in a hug helped solidify that it wasn’t just all some hopeful dream. The men that had made your life hell, and that had terrorised the people close to you, were caught. They couldn’t hurt you anymore. They couldn’t hurt your best friends, or Dean…

“Everything… It all just happened so fast, yet it felt like days,” You disguised your small sob as a cough to clear your throat, not wanting to worry your friends any more than they already were. Blinking away traitorous tears, you lifted your eyes to meet theirs. Your own hands dug into your upper arms as you held yourself together. And, as more words left you, you slowly but surely started retelling the events to your two best friends.

The words came out staggered as you stopped to hug Charlie once her eyes started tearing up again at your words or leaned against Gabe as you watched him struggle to breathe from the horrific events. It hurt to talk about it, but you had to.

You would have to recount those events over and over again now. To police officers, to friends and family… To a court, somewhere down the line. So you wanted them to at least hear it from you first. Instead of the robotic retelling of events that the police would offer up or the sensationalised version the media would tell if they got a hold of the information.

Which you had no doubt they would.

Hell, even as you kept speaking, telling the story on autopilot, your mind was still racing trying to catch up with everything that happened. Your eyes moving off of your friends and towards Dean in the other room whenever it became too hard to breathe through the horrible memories that clung to your heart and chest. The little part of your mind that kept telling you that you were still in that cabin, in the middle of the nightmare, clinging on stubbornly even in the bright synthetic lights of the hospital hallway.

“So, the police came and I… I couldn’t just leave Dean. I’m not hurt, Charlie. I promise. I barely have a scratch on me,” You finally said with a sigh as your friends kept fuzzing over you. Giving them a tired smile as they both cast dubious glances in your direction.

You knew you looked like hell, but you were telling the truth. Dean had acted like the shield you hadn’t wanted him to ever be. Which only added to your guilt as you blinked back tears and hugged yourself tighter, looking over at Dean once more.

Everytime you glanced over, you were met with the warm, worried green eyes of the man from apartment 43. As if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time, even as his brother kept talking to him.

Noticing where you were looking and the little furrow in your brow, Gabriel gently pulled you closer to his side and placed a soft kiss on the crown of your hair as he gave you another one armed hug. Squeezing you closer against his side and temporarily blocking you from seeing your saviour.

“Let’s go get a coffee? Give them some time?” The question left your best friend as a breath of warm air into your hair as you simply nodded. Letting your two friends lead you down the hallway of the hospital and away from Dean.

He needed time with his brother. And, as long as you were standing in the hallway looking over at him every few minutes, with pain and worry staining your eyes, he wouldn’t be able to focus.

“I’ve heard horrible things about the coffee here. You might have to check yourself in to get your stomach pumped after drinking it,” Gabriel’s voice echoed off the hospital walls with strained, fake enthusiasm as he gently pushed you forward down the hallway. In an attempt at lifting the heavy mood with a joke as you walked down the sterile hallways side by side, supported on each side by your best friends. But his normally jovial tone was lacking. Leaving the joke hanging awkwardly between the three of you as you forced a tired smile out.

“If I end up hospitalised then you’re telling Davies that I can’t come down to give my statement,” You shot back, grateful for the attempt at normality, no matter how forced and strained it was, as your shoulders finally relaxed and your hands dropped from your bruising hold on yourself.

“Happily. I’d love to piss that bastard off,” Gabe shot back, sounding genuinely excited at the prospect.

---

The coffee was awful.

To the point where you found yourself wondering where the hospital disposed of toxic waste, so you could wash that swill down the drain along with it. But it was at least luke warm and caffeinated, which your tired and freezing body sorely needed. Though the gentle jabs and arguments between your friends as they tried to pretend things were normal for your sake warmed you more than any cup of coffee could.

“I swear he was flirting with me,” Gabriel shot back at Charlie’s incredulous laugh after he got done retelling his time spent pranking the police officers charged with watching over him. Fully believing he was being straight up courted, like he was part of some Victorian era day time drama, by the older officer who’s been his main security for the last few days.

“I don’t think him following you everywhere was him flirting, Gabe. It was his job,” Charlie laughed as she rolled her eyes at your trickster of a friend’s wide eyed look. Though by the way she’d shyly blushed when she’d talked about Dorothy, the junior agent working alongside Jody Mills to watch over her, she herself had gotten some flirting in. And a new job, apparently, as the Cyber Crime Unit seemed very interested in her skills.

“You didn’t see his eyes. They were lustful, I swear. And the way he asked me if I liked sugar in my coffee? With a soft southern drawl? That man wanted some of this. Not that I blame him, I mean… Come on,” Gabe’s eyebrows lifted along with his trademark smirk as he let his hands gestured to his own body. Wiggling said eyebrows a little more when he noticed he’d managed to tease a soft laugh out of you.

“Soft southern drawl? Sounds more like you’re the one with the crush,” You quipped as you grimaced around another sip of that awful hospital coffee.

“Oh, you know me babe. I flirt with everyone,” Gabriel shrugged, shiteating grin solidly in place as you rolled your eyes at him. Your very own Casanova had probably made both of the poor officers watching over him work extra hard for their money. At least based on the pranks he’d told you about. And you were sure that wasn’t all he’d done. Gabriel didn’t play well with others. At least not with people tasked to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble. Not when trouble was his favourite thing to get into.

“Tell me his name and I’ll try to get you his number,” You chuckled as you crushed the empty paper cup in your hand. Lifting your eyes you tried to find any clocks on the wall, for some indication of how much time had passed. Before giving up and lifting yourself out of the uncomfortable plastic seat in the hospital cafeteria. Even if Dean was still busy talking to Sam, you just wanted to see him.

While your best friends had done their best to make you feel as if life was back to normal, and not the damned nightmare that it all truly was, you still hadn’t managed to fully fall back into the lighthearted routine. Your mind and heart was stuck, somewhere down the hospital hallways. Settled in next to a hospital bed, with Dean, as you could;’t help but wish you were still by his side.

You wouldn’t bother him, but you just… You needed to see him. To make sure those green eyes were still bright and open. And not silently closed, bruised and bloodied, like they had remained the whole awful drive to the hospital in the back of the ambulance.

Yet, before you could push yourself away from the table and go back to him, a hand on your shoulder made you flinch. Your body freezing in fear as the words you’d been wanting to say to your friends died in your throat. Though you knew the hospital was safe, your mind was still stuck in fight or flight. And the small, harmless action was enough to send your heart into your throat as images of Ketch and Brian flashed in front of your eyes.

Turning your face towards the owner of the big hand on your shoulder, you looked at him wide eyed for a split second. Before finally letting out a shaky breath as you came face to face with Detective Mick Davies. His eyes softened apologetically as he removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step back to give you space.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you…” Davies dragged out the final words as he looked from you to your friends and back down at his wrist watch. Seemingly hesitating over his next words before steeling himself and refocusing his attention on you again.

“I just wanted to see if you are ready to come down to the station now Ms. (Y/L/N)? Now that Mr. Winchester is awake and…” The detective continued, keeping his eyes on you as he gestured towards the cafeteria exit.

“GOD! Just let her breathe damn it!” Charlie’s loud voice echoed in the cafeteria, still mainly empty this early in the morning, as she cut off the detective and lifted herself up out of her own seat. Fiery red hair whipping around her as she glared at the detective and made her way around the table to stand in front of you like a protective mama bear.

“She’s been through enough. And who are you to rush her? You guys took your sweet time helping,” Your best friend continued, not lowering her volume at all, even as the few people coming in for their morning coffees turned to look your way.

Placing your hand softly on Charlie’s arm, you gently stopped your fiery best friend from verbally pummeling the detective any further with a small shake of your head. Sending her a grateful smile as she opened her mouth to argue before sighing in defeat when she read the pleading look in your eyes. You really didn’t want to have to have your best friends end up in cuffs for assaulting an officer on top of everything else you’d had to deal with.

“It’s alright… Just, can I go and talk to Dean first? Just for a moment?” You finally asked the detective. Turning your head to face him once you were sure your best friend wouldn’t resort to actual violence against the uniformed man.

For a second, it looked like Detective Davies would say no. His brow knitted and eyes hesitant as his gaze dropped from yours to once again look at his wristwatch. But, with another tired sight and a hand pinching the bridge of his nose, he finally nodded.

---

“Do you want us to come in with you?” Charlie whispered as you got closer to Dean’s hospital room and your steps slowed down to a crawl.

Your little train of followers probably looked strange to the staff and other patients of the hospital. With you in the lead, looking like you’d been through hell.. Which, well, you kind of had. Followed by Charlie and Gabe, who refused to let go of you, yet stayed half a step behind to block Davies’ view of you. As the uniformed detective was left to follow a few steps behind. While your two best friends thoroughly ignored him.

Yet, though you wanted to get away from the curious looks of the rest of the hospital. You couldn’t help but slow down when you were getting closer to Dean’s room. The guilt that still weighed heavily in the pit of your stomach slowing your steps as your hands trembled lightly. You needed to see him, and though you knew he didn’t blame you, your mind was still twisting your guilt into ugly, vicious images of the Winchester brothers both throwing you accusatory looks when you came back into the hospital room.

After all, you were just a neighbour. A former stranger that Dean Winchester had decided to help out on a whim. And you’d nearly gotten him killed.

Chewing on your bottom lip you still shook your head in response to Charlie’s question. Eyes not leaving the door down the hallway that hid Dean from you as you forced your feet to listen to you and continued the rest of the way towards the hospital room.

“No… I need to talk to him alone,” You said, your attempt at a smile twisting into a soft frown as you let your eyes drop to your hands. The guilt painted them blood red in your mind's eye as you curled your fingers into soft fists in a foolish attempt to hide how bloodied they were from yourself, and from your friends. Even though you knew they saw nothing but the trembling hands of their broken best friend.

“Are you sure? We don’t mind,” Gabriel pushed as his eyes focused on your shaking hands. Gently prying them open before lifting his hands to turn you to face him instead of the half open door where Dean was that you had finally come to a full stop in front of.

“I’m sure. It’s just… I feel so damn guilty. It’s my fault he’s…” You sighed, trying to shake your head. But, before you could complete your sentence, or the shake of your head, both were cut out as Gabriel lifted a hand to place it over your mouth. Muffling your words just as Charlie spoke up, a little too loudly for the quiet hospital hallway.

“No! Nope, you don’t get to say that. No way,” She half-shouted, earning her a few dirty looks from a nearby nurse as you tried to remove Gabriel’s hand over your mouth to tell her to quiet it down. And failing miserably as your best friends ganged up on you.

The damned dynamic duo; God, you loved them.

“You did not do anything wrong (Y/N). Those two monsters did that to him, to you. So you don’t get to feel guilty. You get to feel angry. And you better embrace it. Be angry at them. Be pissed off. And make the world listen. Ok?” Charlie pushed, though she thankfully lowered her voice to a quiet hiss as her eyes burned into you. Making sure you heard every single word.

You were only able to nod as Gabe’s hand was still stopping you from speaking as you cast a glance towards the door you'd come to a full stop in front of. As your eyes found the room behind the half closed door, they were met with Dean’s amused, if not a bit confused, smile from the inside.

Great.

He’d seen your friends gang up on you. Though, considering everything else he’d seen of the messy, broken and downright awful thing you called your life… Seeing you being physically silenced by your two best friends was probably just a nice change of pace for the man from apartment 43.

“Good, now get your cute butt in there and talk to Mr. Greek-God-Next-Door and we’ll wait out here for you. We’re coming with you to the station to make sure the police behave. If they don’t I’ll sic Char on ‘em,” Taking his hand off your mouth Gabe whispered the words into your ear before ending them in a soft kiss to your temple as he stepped back and let you go with a small smile.

Returning the smile and mouthing a quiet ‘Thank you’ to both of your friends, you took a deep breath before opening the door to Dean’s hospital room fully. Sending a tired smile Sam’s way as you watched him lift his tall body out of the chair by his brother’s bedside.

Stopping right inside the door, you watched as the younger Winchester walked over to you. Placing a large warm hand on your shoulder with a soft pat, as if he was tagging you in, before taking the last few steps over to the door and slipping out of it. Closing it softly behind him just as he turned towards the Detective that your two best friends were doing their utmost to completely ignore.

Taking a shaky breath, you only made it two steps further into the room before you stopped, frozen. Looking back down at your trembling hands as you wet chapped lips, trying to find something to say.

“Hi,” The shaky greeting was all that left you, as your eyes looked up towards him through your lashes.

---

Dean Dean couldn’t focus on Sam’s words. At least when (Y/N) was still in the hospital room, he’d been able to feign focus. But as she’d left to give him some privacy, he’d fully shut out Sam’s worried words as his eyes stayed on her fragile body in the hallway.

The way she was hugging herself under the artificial lights breaking his heart as he longed to just wrap her up in his arms. Yet, he’d stayed put. Feeling his heart soar whenever she caught him staring, and longing to trace her bottom lip with his thumb to stop her from chewing on it.

His eyes stayed on her until she walked off down the hallway with her friends. And it took everything he had in him to not get out of bed to follow her as illogical panic gripped his heart. She was safe. There were no more monsters hiding in the shadows. Yet, even as he tried to tell himself that, he couldn’t make himself believe it. Somehow that ancient, protective part of him just refused to see it.

Dean just wanted to be by her side, to keep her safe.

But, instead he stayed; trapped in his hospital bed. And as the last few strands of her hair disappeared out of view, he let out a tired sigh as his eyes fell to his bedsheets. He had so much he wanted to tell her, but everything was still just too hectic. Too crazy.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Sam’s voice finally dragged Dean’s mind back into the hospital room while his heart was still busy following (Y/N) down the hall. Lifting his head, he turned it as gingerly as he could, to stop the fresh shots of dull pain from shooting up his spine and into his brain, to look at his little brother. Only to be met with equal parts annoyance and worry in his hazel eyes.

“I’m fine Sammy. Just a bit roughed up. As I said, I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, at the latest,” Dean shot back dismissively. Truth was, he was in a hell of a lot of pain. But he’d grown up taking care of the kid, and he could see Sam was already near frantic with worry. So he wasn’t gonna add to it.

“When I called and you didn’t pick up… I feared the worst Dean,” Sam’s voice was thick with those same what ifs that had probably plagued him when he couldn’t get through to Dean. The worry shining just as brightly in the younger Winchester’s eyes as the big brother in him softened slightly, lifting a still weak hand to pat his younger brother on the back with a tired sigh.

“I know, kid… Thank you for acting so fast. You saved my life. You saved both our lives,” He murmured softly as he gave his brother another pat on his shoulder before withdrawing his arm with a small wince from the dull pain. He tried to conceal it, but by the way the furrow in Sam’s brow got deeper it was clear the observant younger Winchester had seen the way even a small movement had him wincing in pain from his bruised ribs and shaken brain.

“You could have died,” Sam shot back, a mix of anger and fear in his words as he ran his fingers through his hair. A nervous habit Dean remembered the kid having since his early teens.

“But I didn’t, and… Hell, I needed to be there for her,” Dean said with a weak shrug. He knew he’d acted like an idiot out there in the cabin. Hell… He shouldn’t have tried to fight Brian. He should have just taken her hand and gotten the hell out of dodge. But if he had… Brian would have probably shot him in the back before they got to the car. Or worse, shot her.

“I’m just glad the police arrived when they did,” Sam’s voice was shaky as he pushed the words out with a relieved sigh, letting his back hit the back of the chair as he leaned his head back. Blinking away traitorous tears at the future that hadn’t come to pass. A future where he died and (Y/N) was lost forever.

“All thanks to you Sammy,” Dean said with a grin as a comfortable silence fell over the hospital room and the two brothers.

---

After taking a few moments to breathe and digest the fact that Dean was still alive, both brothers had spent the next little while dissecting the case and what Sam knew so far. At least the parts that he could share. Though most of it wasn’t news to Dean after his earlier talk with detective Mick Davies. Who had been surprisingly forthcoming if what Sam shared was anything to go by.

Sam had just started talking about his two hour drive to the hospital when Dean spotted her (Y/H/C) hair outside of his room again through the half-closed door. His breath stuck in his throat the moment his eyes found her again. Even as a soft smile was teased out of him when he watched her best friends nearly tackle her to stop her from whatever she was saying.

By the guilty look she’d thrown his way, Dean had no doubt it was yet another apology for something that was in no way her fault. And, damn it, he couldn’t help but feel bad for how he used to roll his eyes at the group of friends as they loudly brunched on her balcony in the sun while he worked. They were great friends to have, and Dean was sure they’d be great friends of his too, if he was ever given the chance to get to know them better. Which he hoped he would be given… Once all of this bullshit was finally over.

As (Y/N) finally stepped back into his hospital room, Dean couldn’t help himself as he straightened up as best he could on his bed. Flinching at the fresh shots of aching pain as he sent her a small, careful smile.

Once again, Sam had practically ceased to exist as the girl from apartment 42, his sunshine girl, became the only clear spot in the room. And, as if sensing it, the younger Winchester got up out of his seat without another word. Walking over to her, Sam only gave her a small smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before silently leaving the two of them alone.

Sammy was always good at reading the room. Part of what made him such a damned good lawyer.

As the soft click of the door shutting signalled that the two of them were all alone, (Y/N) only moved a few more steps, until she was standing in the middle of the room. Her trembling sugar and sunshine lips parting and closing over nothing as she looked for the right words.

Not that Dean minded just waiting and watching her. The way her beautiful eyes moved across the room between throwing glances in his direction, or that cute furrow that was back on her brow as she tried to sort her thoughts out.

Damn it, he could watch her forever.

Yet, just as that though hit him. Her small voice finally filled the room. Warming the space between them as Dean let out a sigh in contentment. No, he didn’t just want to watch her. He wanted to talk to her, to understand all the complex thoughts swimming behind her eyes. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted her to think of him as her confidant. Someone she could finally let her walls down with. Hell…

He just wanted her to think of him.

“Hi,” Was all she said as she looked down at her hands, tearing at her shirt as she squeezed her eyes shut, as if cringing at her own one word sentence.

“Hey… Come on over here,” Dean shot back, keeping his voice soft and light as he patted the spot next to him on the bed in the direction of where the chair was. Though, hell, he wouldn’t have minded if she decided to sit on the bed with him instead.

“I have to go to the station… The statement and all that stuff. But, I wanted to just… Stop by first,” She said hesitantly as she threw a few glances at the closed door before walking the few steps across the hospital room and sinking into the chair where Sam had been sitting only moments earlier.

“Ah, so that’s why Charlie looked ready to kill Davies,” Dean mused with a lopsided smile, hoping his lighthearted words would help shake some of the guilt and tension off of her shoulders. A smile that only grew as he was rewarded by the beautiful sound of her laughter.

“She was ready to fight him in the cafeteria. I worried I’d have to bail her out for assaulting a police officer,” She laughed as (Y/E/C) eyes grew warm with fondness for her best friends.

Yet, as soon as the laughter warmed the room, it died down again. Leaving the girl from apartment 42 to fidget in her seat as she wet her bottom lip. Opening and closing her mouth, she looked up at him through her lashes as she tried to find the right words.

As the silence lasted for a beat. Then two. Dean finally decided to break it by clearing his throat. If nothing else, then to help remove the tense heavy air that seemed to be hanging around her as she frowned at her own inability to find the right words.

Then again, Dean wasn’t any better.

Though he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and tell her how he felt, he just… Couldn’t. They were both too bruised and broken for him to lay it all on the line right there and then. Even though god, he wanted to. Still, what happened in the cabin was too fresh. And he couldn’t touch on the feelings they’d left behind there, nor on the half-conscious confession he barely remembered making. So instead, he settled for the relative safety of stating the obvious. Even as the words he really wanted to say echoed in the back of his mind.

“So… You’re finally safe now,” He said with a relieved sigh. And though he meant every single word. It wasn’t the ones he wanted to say. No, as the words left him, his mind translated them silently and buried the truth of them in his heart…

I’d do anything to keep you safe.

“You too. I’m sor… Thank you,” (Y/N) started to apologise, but as her eyes met his and she saw the small frown on his features, she corrected herself with a tired smile. Finally shedding the guilt that wasn’t hers to carry. If even just for his sake. Damn it, she just cared so much. Of course, he’d fallen for her. With her bright eyes and fiery spirit hiding such a fragile, gentle soul.

I’m falling for you.

Parting his lips, he nearly let the words slip just from the sight of the heartbreak that was still evident in her eyes. Refracting the light in the room through shards of her own broken heart before sending it back to him as a beautiful prism. Yet, he managed to bite his tongue. Thinking better of it as he swallowed them back down with a small, slightly stiff smile.

“They’ll both be going away for a long, long time,” Dean promised, though he knew the promise wasn’t his to make. Yet, again, his mind changed and shifted his words as he stored them safely in his heart. Transforming them into the only promise he truly wanted to make; I’ll stay. Right here. With you.

Biting her lip, (Y/N) just nodded, her head dipping as she played with her fingers in her lap. As Dean followed her gaze, he watched as one trembling thumb circled the light band of purple bruised skin around her ring finger, where the ring Brian had forced her to wear had been. Squaring his jaw, Dean reeled his anger back in with a heavy breath as he felt his hands curl into fists. Clearly the police had taken the ring as evidence. Though Dean wanted nothing more than to see the small piece of metal destroyed.

“I hope so,” Her voice was small when she finally spoke up. (Y/E/C) eyes barely met his before her head dropped again and she squeezed them shut to hold back tears. Damn it… He didn’t want to make her cry. He never wanted to make her sad. Groaning internally at his own stupidity. He struggled to think up something, anything else that could take her mind off of the monsters who had haunted her.

Yet, as he opened his mouth to speak, the words that came out were not as innocuous as he’d meant them to be. As the one thing he couldn’t help but worry about slipped out instead of a lighter topic, once his eyes landed on his own split up knuckles with a grimace.

“I’m sorry… I probably scared you with…” He sighed as he gestured to his knuckles with a small frown. The small voice in his heart begging her to not be scared of him as he bit back the words.

I’d never hurt you.

“No, it’s fine. He… He deserved it,” She sighed, finally looking up at him again.

The few tears in her eyes had been hastily wiped away by the sleeve of her shirt before her hand instead hovered over the split skin on his knuckles. Anxious worry stained (Y/E/C) eyes as she looked for some way to heal his hurt with just a simple touch of her fingers.

Giving up, his sunshine girl didn’t pull away however. Choosing instead to let her soft, trembling fingers trace a pattern against the back of his hand. Carefully avoiding the injured skin around his knuckles as he sighed in relief. She didn’t hate him.

“I just needed you to be safe is all,” He shrugged, as his eyes closed involuntarily at the pleasurable feel of her fingers playing across his skin. Damn it, she was better than the morphine drip the doctors had given him. And it took everything he had to not blurt out what he really wanted to say, as his mind once more twisted his words into a confession in the back of his mind.

I need you.

“Thank you Dean,” She whispered as Dean opened his eyes to look at her again. His heart soaring when he saw that small smile that had come to mean everything to him during their stay in the lakehouse.

“No problem,” He said with a smile as he swallowed heavily with his heart in his throat from the heavenly sight of her smile. Forcing down the only words he’d really wanted to say, this whole time.

I’m in love with you (Y/N).

Chasing the words away with a heavy breath, Dean instead just brightened his own smile. He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not when there was still so much weighing on her shoulders. Yes, he’d tried to tell her how he felt, or he’d at least made some laughably weak attempts at telling her, back at the cabin. Hell, he’d even openly told Brian that he liked her. But she was fragile then and, damn it, he had taken advantage of that fragility to bare his heart to her.

Sure… She’d seemed to hint at feelings that mirrored his back then… And no matter what happened, the taste of her kiss would never leave him. It was tattooed onto his very soul. But, now that she was out of it all? Hell, maybe he was just her neighbour again… If that was what she wanted, fuck, it would hurt, but that would be what he’d be.

Still, he couldn’t ask her now.

He couldn’t risk ruining the smile that was slowly blossoming once more. And, damn it, he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears or anguish. She was already carrying guilt that didn’t belong to her. What if she felt guilty for not feeling the same way as him?

No… Dean couldn’t say it. So, instead he bit the words back and kept his voice, and his change of topic, light.

“So, what now?” Dean cringed at his choice of words. It was… Laughably weak and would only bring the conversation full circle. Seeing as she had already told him she would be going down to the station to give her statement. Yet, as she sighed and let her bright eyes go unfocused she seemed to search for an answer beyond the police station. (Y/E/C) orbs staring into a future that once more existed instead of the terrifying nightmare of prison bars and cameras she’d been faced with only hours earlier, Dean still held his breath as he waited for her answer. Wondering if he was anywhere to be found in whatever future she was staring into.

“Now, I don’t know…” She shrugged and frowned in that way that sent Dean’s heart into his throat again as he swallowed hard. Letting his hands dig into the blanket, he bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to stop himself from reaching out to erase the cute creases in her forehead with his thumb.

“I don’t think I can go back there. To… That place. Gabe’s offered up his guest bedroom, until I find another apartment,” She sighed, her eyes dropping as Dean’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. Leaving him nauseous and winded at the revelation.

“Oh…” Was all he managed to push out as he moved his eyes off of her to instead focus on his hands.

Of course she’d move. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to Dean. Yet, the thought of the apartment next to his being empty. The very idea of not hearing her little annoyed knocks against his bedroom wall in the morning. Or of not knowing she was right there, next to him, still tore at his heart as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“But! I’ll… I’ll call you. Ok?” She shot in, throwing him a look tinged with worry and the early rays of fresh hope. Her bright (Y/E/C) eyes begging him to believe in her.

“Alright, I just… I want you to be happy (Y/N),” Dean said, giving her a small smile that he hoped looked believable as she returned it with her own shaky smile and placed her hand on his.

For a second, they just sat there in silence. As Dean searched for the words to make her stay… Or at least the words to make her smile that full bright smile from the days back on her balcony in apartment 42. However, before he could, the sharp knock of knuckles against plywood cut him off as Sam pushed open the door and peeked in.

“(Y/N)? Detective Davies is…” Sam started, cutting off his words when Dean shot him an annoyed look. Yet the damage was already done as his sunshine girl let out a tired sigh.

“Oh… Of course. I’ll… I’ll call you?” Her words came out shaped as a question instead of a statement as she waited for his permission, though she didn’t even have to ask. Dean would do anything for her.

Letting her fingers play with his hand again she smiled softly as he nodded. Before a trembling hand lifted to gently move a few stray hairs out of his face as Dean closed his eyes to revel in her touch.

“I’ll be waiting,” He hummed as he opened his eyes again and gave her a soft, genuine smile.

Smiling back, his sunshine girl, the girl who would no longer reside in apartment 42, gave him a small wave as she removed her fingertips from his skin and lifted herself out of the chair.

Parting her lips, she looked as if she wanted to say something else, before thinking better of it as she hurried back across the hospital room and over to the door where Sam was waiting. Wetting those sugar lips before mouthing a final bye his way, she slipped out, and into the hallway where Detective douchebag was waiting for her.

Yet, even as her eyes focused on the detective and her friends, Dean’s eyes didn’t leave her. Not as she readied herself to leave and took a few careful steps down the hallway before throwing a final glance his way over her shoulder.

No… Dean’s eyes stayed glued on her retreating form. Not leaving her until she was fully out of sight.

---

Start Here | Last Part | Next Part

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Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun @deandreamernp @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @justagirlinafandomworld

The Man in Apartment 43 Tags: @campingmonkey @talia-ciufo @monkeymcpoopoo @deans-baby-momma @kalesrebellion @sarahpunkinator @smokinserious @cookiechipdough @winchestergirl82 @babykalika2001 @bagpussjocken @faded-blue @t1his-is-my-life-story @elliloumom @pinknerdpanda @zombiecupcake29 @justaparttimeauthor @that-one-gay-girl @ceisbill @starchildwild @poptart06294 @gia-25 @siospins2 @ariesbabe1993 @jamerlynn @stinawrites88

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piecksz · 3 years

Text

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container.

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen.

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her.

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process.

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

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scathecraw · 3 years

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BBRae Week 2021 - Day 1: Unconventional Kiss

Raven had been dancing around the issue for weeks now, and both she and Gar knew it. There had been a few near misses after a date gone well, a few breathless close calls during training, and one precipitous moment in the kitchen that fell apart when the smoke detector signaled their distraction.

They had been good dates. Very good dates, to be quite honest. Raven had expected that they would go nearly that well, and that had been why she had held off for so long. With all the emotional vulnerability and insightful talks and fantastic company and so many other things that came with dating someone you had been attracted to for years, she knew that the other shoe would drop, and she would have to just plunge in headfirst. And Gar had been patient – he wasn’t one to rush, especially with her. But he wanted it. And, god help her, she wanted it, too.

A perfect first kiss. The First Kiss, for both of them, hung up on each other for so long that they had never made any real attempts to find anyone else. Kori’s magazines had promised that the first kiss was always awkward and had to be refined by, hrm,repeated practice, but that was only a small part of the fear that gripped Raven when she thought of actually, really putting lips to lips.

It wasn’t Gar. She fully expected him to be just as bad as she was for a while (and likely longer given how quick she could pick things up). It wasn’t even what might… come after. Not as such. It was just… just… it was Important. Capital “I” Important – that things go well. Despite the promise of a bad first kiss by seemingly everyone who had ever kissed, it had to go right. Too wet or too dry, wrong head tilt, wrong duration, whatever – but she wanted to kiss him and do it over and over again and what if he didn’t want to or what if there was no chemistry or what if she sneezed or got so nervous she vomited or any number of things that would, according to all her latest nightmares, put him off wanting her the way she wanted him.

And he seemed so damn blithe about it. Like he couldn’t be less worried, even though she had felt his pulse race and could practically hear his internal monologue turning into a full blown soliloquy. He had that placid smile and those sparkling eyes and smelled like warmth and pine and it was so stupid how he wouldn’t just admit how nervous he was so they could be nervous together.

No, she had to be the mature one and feel all the butterflies for them both. She could practically hear his corny joke about never getting butterflies because he was vegetarian. Stupid Gar and stupid kissing.

It would happen. She would make it happen. And it wouldn’t be perfect, or probably even a very good kiss, but it would be right. Eventually.

____

There was an awful lot of noise and fleeing civilians for an evening out, even at the pier.

Nightwing sighed from atop his favorite ride at the boardwalk, the Ferris Wheel, as he retrieved his communicator and alerted the team. “Titans, we’ve got work to do. Something big is causing trouble at the east entrance. Star and I are on our way and will meet you there.” With that, he stood up in the precariously rocking carriage and Starfire lifted him by the arms, taking off in the direction of the disturbance. Cyborg, heretofore incognito on a date, immediately excused himself and waded through the crowds, shedding his holo-disguise. He was alerted to his passing teammates by a green blur, and called out to Raven as she passed, asking for a ride on one of her ink-black levitating discs. She obliged and they took off after Changeling’s racing avian form.

Gar was the fastest one to respond in these situations. Superhuman reactions and mobility got him to the trouble faster than any of his teammates, and he was proud of it. It meant that he was the first one to engage the enemy, which was a dangerous gambit when he didn’t know what the enemy was, but someone had to be first on the line when every second was a danger to innocent people. In this case, it was more an annoyance than any real threat. Kitten was throwing a very public and destructive temper tantrum, as she tended to do within a few weeks of release/escape.

Her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Fang, was nearby and suffering the brunt of the auditory assault while a swarm of mutated grubs ate their way through stalls and prizes alike. Kitten was waving the control device as she gesticulated wildly, and the chance to end the whole debacle in one fell swoop was too tempting.

Without waiting for backup or giving away his presence, Changeling darted forward as a seagull, beak agape as he neared the remote. He had timed it perfectly, if not for Fang’s suddenly outstretched spiderleg. The blow sent him tumbling into a pile of cheap stuffed animals and he transformed back into himself. The arguing couple immediately turned their ire on him without ever stopping their argument.

“And now look what you’ve done! Your stupidity got this idiot involved! Why couldn’t you just win me a stupid teddy bear like a normal boyfriend?” Kitten raged as she hammered at the controller, causing the grubs to turn their attention towards the dazed and prone Changeling. Fang launched webbing at him, working at cross purposes as the grubs and giving Changeling just enough time to roll out of the way.

“This is not my fault. You know these games are rigged! Why would I give the money I stole to these scam artists?”

“Because you are supposed to! It’s what boyfriends do! They do stupid stuff because I want you TO!” Kitten screamed and threw her remote onto the ground where it cracked and fizzled. Instead of the expected de-metamorphosis from vicious gnawing grubs to harmless caterpillars, there was a rumbling from deep inside the snack stall and a mass exodus of larvae from the vicinity. Gar had just gotten to his feet when a much larger, toothier, and more armored wriggler burst from the shoddy wooden confines, writhing and shrieking even more shrilly than Kitten, and headed directly towards her and Fang in a headlong charge.

Apparently Kitten’s shouting was enough to distract both of them from their imminent death by squirming tank, and Changeling had to make a tough split-second decision – let them suffer the consequences of their own stupidity, or put himself in harm’s way to save them.

It wasn’t much of a choice. Leaping forward, he transformed into a rhino, a fast moving locomotive of heavy armor and muscle and slammed headfirst into the tank sized larva, diverting it and being whipped aside by the unexpected followthrough of the tail end of the grub.

Raven’s disk touched down just in time to see his head collide with a thick support post that held up the boardwalk, and the sounds of argument fell silent as Kitten and Fang wordlessly assessed the situation and fled. Cyborg called out “Get B. I’ll get the worm,” and launched after the creature.

Raven raced to Garfield’s side, seeing the heavy gash and road rash from sliding across the wood. She assessed him as quickly as possible, noting the broken ribs, bleeding, and, most concerning, the lack of breathing. She channeled her power, reaching her soulself into the unmoving shapeshifter on the ground, and urgently repaired his most vital injuries.

The head wound would wait, they always bled more and looked worse than they were. First the broken ribs, eased out and stabilized enough to hold for a little while. Then the badly punctured lung. As the trapped air was removed and the hole patched, she expected him to cough, sit up, and make a dumb joke. Instead he just lay there, silent. His pulse was fine, and there was no reason for him to be so still.

She did all the steps that the Titans’ first aid training laid out for her, making sure his airway was clear, no pressure preventing his breathing or hidden wounds that would cause more damage, then started mouth to mouth.

It only took a few breaths, as if his body had simply not realized for some seconds that he was able to breathe normally again, before the first unassisted rasps began. Raven let out a sob of relief, feeling like his breath resuming was directly connected to her own oxygen. She continued healing him, clearing his head of blood and strengthening the broken ribs before his eyes opened with a groan.

“Did ya get the license of that truck that hit me?” he said, weakly.

Raven nearly hit him. “That was by far the stupidest thing I have ever seen you do. What were you thinking, charging in like that?”

“Aww c’mon, Rae. I had ta’. And I’m sure you’ve seen me do stupider things.”

“None of them had you puncture a lung and stop breathing, you fool. You didn’t need emergency resuscitation when you tried to do a standing backflip.” A jolt of power zapped him with an icicle of cold to the chest, and he coughed.

“At least I stuck the landing this time, heh. I think I can sit up. Thanks for fixing me up, Doctor Rae.”

She glared, and kept glaring as Nightwing checked in. Fang and Kitten had been apprehended almost peacefully by him and Starfire, and Cyborg had incapacitated the grub easily. She reported the situation, not once taking her eyes off her idiot of a boyfriend.

He rolled to his feet, only a little gingerly, and retrieved the broken pieces of the remote control for Cyborg to repair and reverse the changes to the swarm.

As he stooped down to pick up the last pieces, he stopped, and a look of realization dawned on him.

“Wait, you gave me CPR? Like, mouth-to-mouth?”

“Of course. You weren’t breathing and you needed oxygen before any working brain cells died.”

“Y’know,” he said, sitting back down beside her, “I think that counts as our first kiss.”

Raven went still. It couldn’t. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was legitimate medical treatment. But then again, it wasn’t very good, it was at a weird angle, and there was even the terrible fear that she’d vomit out of worry. It checked all the boxes for the perfect terrible first kiss.

He interrupted her musing, “Too bad I don’t remember it. Maybe we could see if trying again might jog some memories.” He reached his arm across her shoulders, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” she said, and pulled him in for a completely butterfly-free second first kiss.

AO3 FF.net

#bbraeweek21 #bbrae #day 1 #fic

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strawberrylemonz · 3 years

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January 20, 2021 - DSMP

Here is my review of what happened on today’s stream! Keep in mind that I was only watching Tommy’s POV, but will be analyzing any other viewpoints that I come across (Mainly Tubbo’s)

I’m going to be honest with everyone, I was unsure as to whether not any of our boys would make it out alive. I went into the stream preparing the worst.

Tommy and Tubbo talking each other up, preparing to leave made me feel all kinds of thing. Like I stated earlier, I was prepared for the two to end their adventure today. I vibed with them when they walked down the prime path, and froze up when I saw the first person in line. I’m not ashamed to say that I nearly sobbed when I saw everyone line up to say their goodbyes to the boys (I’m sensitive, shut up).

The way Sam kept giving them stuff??? Loved that

The way Tommy and Quackity’s voices quivered when they spoke to each other? Punch to the heart?

Tommy telling Eret that she was always the true king??? YES!!! POP OFF!!!

The entire trip to where Dream was both made me happy and broke my heart. Here, we saw these boys, children forced to grow up quickly to be used by those they trusted, do their best to be kids for a moment. They were kids for, what they believed, could be the last time. They had their serious moments where Tommy kept reminding Tubbo that it was okay to not feel okay about the situation. Where Tommy didn’t want Tubbo to hide his inner thoughts from him just to try and make him feel better. The moment that they watched the sun together made me all sentimental and shit. Tommy preparing to die and have Tubbo leave and tell his story broke me.

“Why did you tell me to bring Tubbo?”

“Because, it’s always been you and Tubbo against me, remember? Ever since the beginning, Tommy and Tubbo against Dream” (paraphrasing)

I actually got hyped up when Tommy got the disc. It reminded me of Tommy’s clutch the time he dropped the disc down to Tubbo and knocked Dream off the tower using only planks. I had let my hope for them grow. And then I had my heart broken.

Dream using Tubbo against Tommy was something that I expected would happen, but I still wasn’t prepared for it to actually happen. I don’t think I’ll easily forget about how Tommy gave up the disc to Dream, even when Tubbo begged for Tommy to keep the disc and go. My heart nearly dropped to my stomach when I saw Dream break that first dirt block. It dropped when he told the boys to put their armor in the hole.

I have to admit, I was kinda confused that the homeless man had an evil lair and not a home, but pop off I guess??? The elevator was pretty cool, ngl

When I saw the two discs on the floor, I thought, “Bitch, you better be polishing this fucking floor every 30 minutes. Disrespect Nicki Minaj? What?” My second thought was, “why tf did you make two giant ass shrines for these discs??? Didn’t even center them, wtf dude.”

When Dream was monologuing and showing off the stolen goods and pets (and Skeppy) he stole from everyone, I knew he was on something. Him calling Tommy the key confirmed that Dream was overthinking everything and seeing things in places they didn’t belong. Did Tommy initially bring these bonds? Bring all the things Dream said he did? Yeah, I’ll admit it, he did. But it was the people in the server that kept that going, kept it alive. If not Tommy, someone else would have started that chain. The way Tommy look horrified and uttered with a horrific tone, “how do you not hurt?” when Dream mentioned how he cut off all his attachments was hnnnnnnnn

Tubbo actively trying to protect Tommy from going to prison while Tommy was actively trying to protect Tubbo from permanently dying was-

Man

Man, that broke my heart.

“You wanna be the hero of this server? Every hero has an origin story. Batman had his parents, Spider-Man had Uncle Ben. You have Tubbo.”

The look of complete horror/terror that came across Tommy’s face the instant those words were spoken. He genuinely looked scared. He kept trying to defend Tubbo, despite Dream repeating how defenseless Tommy was against him. Dream telling the boys to say their good byes hurt me in more ways that I can describe. Tommy was panicking, actively trying to come up with ways to get Tubbo out of there, no matter the cost or price that he had to pay. Tubbo telling him that it was okay, everything would be okay, he would be okay. The way Tommy was desperate to hold onto his best friend, his Tubbo, whilst saying, “You can’t be okay with this! Why are you okay with this?”

My heart nearly stopped for a second the moment Tubbo said “goodbye, Tommy”

My mind flashed back to Tubbo saying those exact words whilst exiling Tommy, his best friend, for the sake of everyone being safe. Now, here he was again, saying those exact words to the exact same person. The only difference? He wasn’t sacrificing his best friend for the sake of everyone and Dream. No, he was sacrificing himself for the sake of his best friend, his only true friend, Tommy.

“Get away from them”

“Punz?”

“I’m sorry Dream, but you should have paid me more.”

Literal chills. I cannot. It’s the “On your left” of the DSMP. The way everyone came through the portal to line up against this tyrant that manipulated them all. The way I imagined everyone coming through to see this decked out dude with a god complex about to murder a bloody and bruised child, said child’s best friend (also bloody and bruised) was watching, begging to have his friend spared. Imagining how they saw the tear streaks down the boys’ messed up faces as they accepted their fates. As they saw their fear turn to hope as Tommy got Tubbo behind them for safety. How Tommy entrusted them to keep Tubbo safe. How they all came, decked out, to defend these two children.

How Quackity came in nothing but his yeezys because he just fucking knew that Dream wouldn’t put up a fight. The way Dream was so confident that he had power over everyone because he rid himself of his bonds towards objects and friends, only for that to be his downfall. The way Sapnap, Dream’s old friend, his buddy, was the one to give Tommy the pickaxe. The way Puffy was there to protect the two boys she renounced his duckling title for (and the nation).

The way Tommy dug a hole, without any protection or weapons, and had Dream throw his stuff in. The way he didn’t blow any of Dreams shit up, like he had happen to himself, and, instead, used Dream’s things to protect Tubbo and everyone else. The way Tommy took away Dream’s first two lives, paralleling the times Dream took Tommy’s two lives. The way Tommy boxed him in, like Tubbo was at the festival, and the way Tubbo held a bow to Dream. The way Tommy screamed at Dream to tell everyone what he had done. How Dream was the one to blow up the community house. How Dream tormented the poor boy in exile. The way Tommy didn’t spare him because he liked him, or wanted to play mind games with him. No, Tommy spared him because he had a chance to get his brother back, his family.

“Let’s make Wilbur proud. SUCK IT GREEN BOY!!!!”

“SUCK IT GREEN BOY!!!!”

The way the boys sincerely thanked everyone for showing up, fully knowing that they didn’t have to do shit. The way that Tommy said to go to Tubbo’s vc, obviously warming Tubbo’s heart. The way they made it to bench, and finally had a chance to breathe. How they could sit their, listen to their discs, and be kids again. No wars, no going against Dream, nothing. They could just be Tommy and Tubbo, like it’s always been since the beginning.

Then Wilbur fishfucking Soot had to crash the moment like the older brother he was, lmaooooo.

“You didn’t die”

“Ghostbur?”

“I’m not Ghostbur.”

I sucked in a breath, not knowing how the interaction was going to go. Was Wilbur still in the mindset he was whilst blowing up the nation he and his younger brother created? Was he in a mindset before that? Was he sane?

I must admit, their bickering match, along with Tubbo’s dancing, made me realize how much I missed their dynamic. I realized how much I missed Wilbur being in the picture. (Tommy whispering to Tubbo how he liked Ghostbur was hilarious)

Wilbur complaining about being stuck with Schlatt in the afterlife was hilarious. Wilbur admitting that he was preparing, waiting, for Tommy, his younger brother, to join him in the afterlife had me gripping my plushies. Wilbur telling Tommy that he’s proud of him put a sledgehammer into my fragile dam.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

THEY. ARE. BROTHERS!!!!

It was just so refreshing to see these two get the happy ending they deserved in this arc. The pain and suffering these two children went through at the expense of others, how they were forced to grow up quickly because of their situations, all of that was finally pushed towards the path of recovery. And although they’ve been through hell and back, it’s still them. Although the future will be hard for them, throwing more trials and difficult choices, they know that they’ll make it out, because that how it’s always been. And if their strengthen bond after today can tell them anything, it’s that it’ll always be like that.

It’s always been Tommy and Tubbo.

What I want/what I predict

FOR GEORGE TO BE AWAKE FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS

Everyone complimenting Niki on her new fit better fucking happen, I will manifest it

Dream will use his favor from Techno to break out of prison

Connor playing a bigger role in the SMP

Foolish revealing that they don’t need Dream alive (hopefully)

Ghostbur to say a proper goodbye before Wilbur is revived

GLATT

GLATTBUR

SBI reunion with every alive for more than five fucking minutes

Wilbur ignoring his dad Phil and zooming over to little brother Tommy so that he can hug him and tell him that he’s safe now and that he’s so proud of him

THERAPY ARC!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYONE LOVELY, PLEASE

JUST GET EVERYONE INSIDE THE THERAPY GROUP SECTION AND TALK ABOUT THEIR TRAUMA AND FEELINGS SO THEY CAN ALL CLEAR UP THEIR MISUNDERSTANDINGS!!!!!

The egg will start to negatively affect people, causing those not affected to fear for their home and friends

SBI + TUBBO AND RANBOO VS EGGPIRE????? POG?????

Tubbo nuking L’manhole to get rid of the spreading red

Techno/Phil to come to an understanding with Tommy; vice versa

Those unaffected teaming up to safe those affected

Someone (preferably Ranboo) unintentionally activating the End Portal lmao

The rest of the SBI + Tubbo saving Tommy from being murdered by Jack and Niki

Jack and Niki learning that killing the child is not the fucking answer to their problems (If it didn’t work for William Afton, it won't work for y’all. Stop trying to be the man behind the slaughter)

Techno and Tommy rebuilding their trust and friendship with each other

Tommy giving Techno the Axe of Peace

Sam being influenced by the egg and becomes corrupted

Ranboo being free??? Pog???? Pog

Puffy and Niki having a one-to-one conversation about their personal opinions and goals

Puffy visiting Dream whilst he sits in his cell

Skeppy and Bad to be okay again :(

Everyone infected to be okay again :(

Tommy bonding with Eret

Big Q continuing to hold Clingy Duo close to him

Schlatt coming back but instead of trying to run for president and mess with everyone, he’s just everyone’s drunk uncle that somehow gives wise advice to every situation

Wilbur coming back but he’s that angry older cousin that only allows the favorite family members(Tommy)/friends to stay in his room

GIVE ME MEXICAN DREAM AND GIRL DREAM!!! ONLY HETERO RELATIONSHIP I SEE THAT IS BEYOND POGGERS

Lani and Drista to make a comeback at the same time

Tommy meeting more family members

The kids being able to be kids

Lani selling yeezy

Drista w/ bedrock

Drista laughing at Dream’s imprisonment

Everyone finding peace within each other’s chaos and living in harmony

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imnotwolverine · 3 years

Text

The Accidental Family - Chapter 5

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 4 | Chap 5 How to dad | Chap 6 >

Disclaimer: fluff, sadness, memory loss, some strong language

Word count: 2.098

Author’s note: I had a home spa day and I may or may not have made WAY too many bubbles in the bathtub..which then in turn kind of floated out into our adjoining kitchen and...yea...I’m posting this to procrastinate the clean up of ..THAT. Wish me luck. 😂

(Link to my Masterlist)

It was not unusual for Henry to be up this early, and yet Phoebe was slightly surprised to find him in the kitchen, the smell of coffee searing into her nose as she was welcomed with the sight of a kitchen island crowded with paper folders and the family whiteboard scribbled full with an enormous, intricately filled out schedule.

Henry was still working on it as she quietly stepped over the threshold, her arms crossing before her bathrobe as she watched him bend down, ass sticking out as he leaned in to scribble something in the far right bottom corner.

‘Morning.’ She chimed, making Henry jerk up in surprise, his eyes looking at her like she had just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

‘Whatcha doin’?’ She leaned into the kitchen island and looked at the papers that were strewn over the smooth light grey marble.

‘Oh, ehm, just ..trying to find some order in this mess.’ He shrugged and clicked the cap back onto the whiteboard marker, his fingers pushing it on the small whiteboard ledge before he fully turned towards his wife, her dazed eyes still blinking at him with mild confusion.

‘You see I found all these things you keep around. School schedules, doctor’s appointments, swimming classes, soccer, eh..you know. I wanted to have an overview.’ He shrugged, making Phoebe cry out laughing.

‘You did what now?!’

‘Wait, don’t tell me you have a schedule just like this laying around..’

‘No, no. Eh..’ Phoebe looked over at the coffee machine, deciding she’d need a cuppa before she’d dive into Henry’s findings.

‘Want some coffee as well?’

‘No, no, I’m good. Gotta keep fit, so I can get back in the saddle as quickly as possible.’ He jabbed into the air, as if ready to beat an invisible opponent.

‘Silly man.’ Phoebe chuckled, pouring some of the hot brew into a mug with a smiling elephant on it - yes suddenly Henry owned a whole arsenal of silly mugs. Squinting his eyes playfully he studied Phoebe:

‘Silly stupid or silly smart?’ Henry asked, but all Phoebe did was shrug, turning a pair of mischievous eyes at him while she sipped on her coffee.

‘Anyways. I think, if the doctor’s okay with it, I can start squeezing in office visits between Sam’s soccer practise and Piper’s speech therapy and..’

‘Hen..’ Phoebe sighed, walking up to him to brush a hand over his arm, his shirt fitting snugly around his large chest, attracting her gaze for a short moment. ‘..one step at a time okay?’

‘Yes-yes, I know. I..’

And then she chuckled, earning an even more confused look from him. ‘What’s so funny?’ His brow furrowed.

‘Oh..it’s just. I never thought I’d get you to..draft school appointment schedules.’

‘Why’s that?’

Phoebe hesitantly licked her lips, her stormy blues meeting his aquamarine, his face betraying that he truly didn’t understand. ‘You were at work..a lot.’

‘Oh.’

Henry slowly turned around, also looking back at the busy schedule; it was indeed quite impossible to fit all this in with the 14-hour workdays he had always been so accustomed to.

‘..fuck.’ He breathed softly, scolding his old-Henry-self for being such a workaholic idiot.

‘That’s okay. We were a pretty good team.’ Phoebe leaned into the kitchen island, her hand lowering the coffee cup to her hip as she quirked her head to the side to study the schedule he had drawn up.

‘So which of these did I do with the kids?’ He asked hesitantly.

‘Soccer, on Saturday.’

Henry blinked at the 40-something other items that were listed on the meticulously drawn out grid. ‘Oh my.’

‘Yea..’ Phoebe grinned. ‘There’s a good reason why I quit my job as a nurse.’

‘You were a nurse?’

Phoebe turned her head to answer, but decided not to, her lips instead just twitching up in a half-smirk. ‘For a while. But at least now I know exactly what to do when one of the cubs run a fever.’

‘Did you like being a nurse?’

She shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. ‘Wiping shit of a patient’s ass or my kid? I’ll choose my kid any day of the week.’ She winked at him.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Henry chuckled. ‘And about that; shouldn’t the children move home at some point? Or..you go to them, or..?’ He wished to scratch his head as he did whenever he was unsure, but Phoebe was quick to stop him, her hand catching his wrist before he could move it up higher.

‘Eventually.’ She swallowed harshly and released his wrist. ‘I just don’t know when.’ Her eyes moved back to the board as she continued with slight melancholy. ‘There’s only so much you can plan.’

‘Hi Danny.’ Relief flooded Henry’s limbs as the amazonian goddess of a woman stepped into the office he had been left in some fifteen minutes earlier.

It would be just a short visit to the office, the studio having postponed the production of the new Witcher season until things were cleared out; Henry’s doctors were not very eager to give any green lights until Henry himself showed he was able to carry the burdens that came with being a lead actor in such a heavily regarded tv show.

‘Hey there big guy! Lookin’ good!!’

‘Yea,’ Henry smiled happily. ‘Feeling pretty good as well.’

‘Good to hear, good to hear! Oh and sorry if I’m a little slow. Jet lagging pretty hard over here; just got back from LA and had like..the craziest delay. But, here I am! It’s good to see you, Henry.’

‘Likewise.’ Henry cleared his throat as he tried to remember the short script she had sent the day before. A script that he’d have usually learned in between scenes, taking up no more than half an hour. But now he felt a certain nerve crawling up his spine as she plucked out that very same script from her bag.

‘Alright. So. I thought we’d have a little reading first? See how that’s going? I mean, if that’s alright with you, of course.’

‘Eh..yea, sure.’ Henry hesitated as his eye flew over the bag he had brought along, the script in there begging him to be picked up in case he failed to produce the words.

No, he could do this. He had to prove he could…

‘So, starting at the top of the scene. Geralt is sleep deprived and agitated. You know the drill..’ She waved her hand like it was no big deal, only to remember moments later it might be a deal after all, her tongue clicking as she realised her mistake. ‘I mean. IF you know the drill, or don’t know the drill, either way is fine. No question is bad. We have no stupid questions in this room, mkay? I mean, I’m just so glad to see you here! And..-’

‘No, I can do it.’ Henry frowned and tried to focus on the blurry daze that was his memory, the words somehow sticking to the tip of tongue like they were about to spill..but didn’t come. ‘Okay, maybe just eh, keep the script to be sure.’ He quickly grabbed for his bag, unzipping it to retrieve the script, the many marks indicating just how much he had struggled with it the night before; at some point Phoebe had to pull the paper from his stiff fingers, so he’d at least get some sleep.

Reading the first lines of the paper, he tried to get the voice right, the sentence right, the atmosphere right. Things that usually came like second nature. But now it all just didn’t click, his brain sluggish as he tried to read aloud the words as he tried to give his all - it wasn’t enough.

‘Okay-okay-okay.’ Danny stopped him after a short monologue. ‘Maybe let’s just..read? No crazy stuff?’

Again Henry tried. And this time it went a little better. A little. Not enough. Frustration raged through Henry’s bones as he tried to remain calm, his fists clenching around the paper as his eyes read the words and his mouth spilled them, but it just wasn’t as magical as it had once been.

By the time he said goodbye to Danny he kind of knew what had just happened; he had lost it.

‘Hey! How’d it go?’ Phoebe called from the couch, her eyes remaining trained on the laptop perched on her lap, a cup of steaming hot tea next to her on the side table.

Henry grumbled something indiscernible and bid her good night, heavy feet dragging up the stairs way before Phoebe had the chance to ask what happened. Closing her laptop she rushed up after him, knowing full well that he couldn’t be in much of a good mood - her Bear had always been like an open book to her.

She could already see him open Sam’s room to go to sleep in the narrow bed, but she stopped him at that, her hand clutching around his bicep, pulling him back towards the master bed room.

‘Come!’ She exclaimed, tugging at his heavy body which refused to move.

‘I can’t. Not ..now, okay?’ He lowered his head as he leaned his forehead into the door frame. It was more than a little clear that he was heartbroken.

Phoebe frowned, her arms opting to wrap around him instead, fingers accidentally brushing over his cock as she shimmied her hands around him, locking fingers in front of his belly. Did he think she wanted to have sexy time? She could hear his breath choke up.

‘Not that, silly.’ She whispered, her hot breath fanning over his dark blue shirt.

‘Then what? I can’t even..’ His breath choked again and an ever so quiet sob erupted from his lips. It broke Phoebe’s heart.

‘Mr. Cavill. You’re too heavy for me to carry, but could you please get to the big bed, so I can cuddle with you? Please?’ Phoebe squeezed her arms a little tighter around his chest, making him sob harder.

‘I just…’ His large paw wiped over the expanse of his cheek, angrily removing a tear that had strayed down to his jaw. ‘Fuck.’ And with that he caved, his head removing from the door frame as he slowly turned in Phoebe’s tight embrace, his head looking down at her pleading eyes. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

It took a good thirty minutes of crying and half muttering what had happened before Henry had calmed a little, Phoebe sitting next to him beneath the sheets, her eyes watching in agony as her Bear totally fell apart, thick tears running down his beautiful cheeks. He was convinced that he could never act again. That this was it. His memory was failing him. He could do simple stuff, but acting? No way, José.

Phoebe scooted a little closer as Henry finally sighed, the last of his tears spent for the moment being. Without question or answer, the both of them curled into a sweet embrace, Henry’s head leaning down onto her chest as she carefully brushed her hands through his curls, finding the scar that now ran evidently over the back of his skull; it was just another piece of Henry she’d learn to love.

Sniffling softly, Henry melted into her touch, his breathing slowly calming to a soft and deep in-and-out.

And then, she sang, her body slightly swaying on a quiet tune.

You’re my Honeybunch,

Sugarplum

Pumpy-umpy-umpkin,

You’re my Sweetie Pie

Henry smiled into the fabric of her night gown, the soft satin like mother’s skin against his glowing cheek. ‘My mom used to sing that.’ He murmured.

You’re my Cuppycake,

Gumdrop

Snoogums-Boogums,

You’re the Apple of my Eye

Henry slightly lifted his head and looked at Phoebe as she gently continued to caress his hair, her lips chanting the sweet little lullaby. Finally she turned her attention to him, warm eyes melting his fragile heart.

‘I know. She actually taught me. With Sam. I mean, he was probably the fussiest baby ever to exist.’

Henry chuckled. ‘And now I am your baby.’

The both of them laughed softly. ‘No, no, no. You’re no baby! Though if you need some smothering with love, I’m glad to offer it.’ She playfully jiggled her momma-licious tits, making Henry swallow quickly.

Any other day of the week he would have jumped at the chance - nothing much had happened yet on that department, but right now, with his body all rosy and exhausted, he could only shake his head no, his cheek moving back to rest on her chest. ‘Another time.’ He sighed, melting back into her loving embrace.

‘Okay then Bear. Sleep well.’ She pressed a kiss on his crown and shimmied a little to get comfortable.

Sometimes, dads also need a little bit of mommy love.

Chap 6 >

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #fluff #sadness #the accidental family #how to dad

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idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf · 4 years

Text

How Mervana shows Louie’s response to trauma.

I made a super short post basically saying “Hey I like how Mervana highlights Louie’s trauma and it’s effects on him” and people seemed interested in hearing more about it so here’s that post.

Now, it’s no secret (generally) that Louie really hates adventures. That’s obvious throughout the show, up to the most recent season. He never seems to want to go on adventures, always objecting to them or not going or changing his mind and wanting to go back half way through. The show never fails to remind us that he hates them. What’s more, the show never fails to remind us exactly why Louie hates adventures. In Glomtales he was actually happy to be missing the adventure at first, commenting “Well, at least I can skip out on another insanely dangerous adventure”. Something that only changed when he realized they were going somewhere not only safe but actually fun, something very rare. In The Golden Armory Of Cornelius Coot he rocks back and forth trying to convince himself of why the adventure was worth it, clearly extremely distressed. “Do not laugh in the face of my danger” he shouted when Dewey starting giggling. Later in that episode he basically sobbed out “I wanna go home”. In Challenge Of The Senior Woodchuck he says “I’m cold and terrified, this sure seems like an adventure to me.”

Most of the family isn’t actually affected by the constant stress and danger they’re put in. Huey, Dewey, Webby, Della, and Scrooge all find it incredibly exciting, Donald used to once upon a time and he stopped adventuring after it stopped being that. Nobody else has really gone through what Louie has. He isn’t built for adventuring. He’s been kidnapped, physically and mentally hurt, almost killed. Constantly. According to an article I read, “Trauma results from an event, series of events, or set of circumstances that is experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful or threatening and that can have lasting adverse effects on the individual’s functioning and physical, social, emotional well-being.” and well, that absolutely fits the bill here. Below i’m going to put some symptoms of trauma that are in line with what we’ve seen from Louie throughout the show

Anger, irritability, mood swings

Anxiety and fear

Guilt, shame, self-blame

Withdrawing from others

Feeling sad or hopeless

Feeling disconnected or numb

Fatigue

Being startled easily

Edginess and agitation

Extreme alertness; always on the lookout for warnings of potential danger

Detachment from other people and emotions

Emotional numbing

Suspicion

Throughout the show there are many instances of Louie’s trauma being very obvious to anybody paying attention. However I think the episode Mervana actually showcased the effects outside of just Louie being visibly distressed over actively being in danger. Other episodes have shown his symptoms, obviously. His anxiety and fear are always on during at adventure and when they aren’t he’s shockingly, almost unusually numb to the situation. He’s almost always very fatigued (although the line between what’s fatigue and what’s just ‘laziness’ is a bit blurred), and he’s almost always a bit too hostile towards others. But Mervana showed a really direct ‘cause and effect’ type relationship with the things they’ve been through and his behavior throughout that episode.

Starting off the episode, we can see Louie seems very detached. He’s texting throughout Huey and Scrooge’s monologues. As I said earlier, when it comes to adventuring he’s always either in fight or flight mode or he’s completely detached, maybe offering occasional dull but volatile remarks here and there. Eventually Louie makes a comment about how “Now there’s two people putting us in constant danger” before sitting like this for the next minute or so

The other’s are mid conversation but he just kinda sits there blankly for a while before turning to make another remark. “Yeah, I definitely can’t wait to find a bunch of lost undersea monsters who definitely won’t have a dark secret that almost gets us killed”. And it’s important to recognize that Louie isn’t just being a pessimist here. He may not be in panic mode at the moment because he tends to emotionally detach himself until it’s time for his fight or flight responses to kick in (likely a way to cope with the constant anxiety that seems to follow him) but he’s still got a very good point because they are put in constant danger and this episode really, truly, is no different. Webby even asks “Why do you always have to assume the worst?” to which Louie pulls out his running list of the times they’ve been offered as a sacrifice. He’s almost died countless times. He’s watched his brother’s and sister almost die countless times. No, not countless, he’s counting. He’s literally keeping count of the number of traumatic experiences he’s gone through, which is at least one hundred and twenty. And that’s just the amount of sacrifices, which is to say nothing about kidnappings or non sacrifice related straight up murder attempts.

Let me just say, though, that his suspicious nature, while completely natural due to his past traumatic experiences, and while somewhat grounded in reality because they did end up in danger during this episode, wasn’t completely accurate. Most of the Mervanan’s were genuinely good people but Louie immediately assumed they were going to hurt him and his family. He was on edge. He was immediately suspicious, even before he met them, even before he was given reason to be suspicious. The only person who read into things as deeply as he did was Beakley, who’s a secret agent. She will have been trained to be suspicious and pick up on small signs that something isn’t right, but Louie wasn’t. Louie was just on edge and suspicious of everything because those are big signs of trauma. He was right that something wrong was going on, but it wasn’t observational skills on his part as shown by the fact that he was sure they’d be put in danger before they ever met the Mervanan’s.

A few times this episode we see the flip from Louie being on edge and suspicious to him actually genuinely being put in danger. And you can see clear as day that he gets no satisfaction out of it. Everyone else is usually proud or energized. Excited to fight, smug when they win or get away. It’s not the same for Louie.

And you can see there’s a difference even between Beakley’s suspicions based on genuine observation and valid doubt when compared to Louie’s which are based in the fact that he’s a traumatized individual who’s had his brain rewired in a way that makes him suspicious to an unhealthy degree. “You have no idea weather or not they’re going to feed us to their monster king?” Beakley asked The Harp. She was suspicious because she knows how the world works and realized something was wrong (because something was wrong) but she was rational about it. They didn’t have solid evidence, she didn’t know for sure. But Louie immediately replied by saying “they definitely are” which isn’t a rational thought process when he really, truly had no evidence to believe so other than his deepseeded instinct to trust nobody.

And when Beakley admitted that she didn’t trust the Mervanan’s either there was very little smugness in the way he handled it. Louie didn’t insist as hard as he did that something was wrong and that you can’t trust anybody just to prove a point to Webby. Immediately he interrupted Beakley and Webby’s situation by jumping in with “We need to get the harp down to the Mervanan’s or we’re all going to die!” Louie was truly in panic mode throughout this episode. He wasn’t just being a pessimist trying to crush Webby’s bright optimistic hope, he was trying to protect his family. When he first set off to find the harp he said “I’m going to find the harp before we all get sacrificed”. Then when he was debating weather or not to tell Webby the truth he pointed out that “If she doesn’t (find out the truth) she’ll be fish food!”. Then when he’s trying to move the harp down to the other’s his biggest concern is “Gotta save family”. It’s not just pessimism, it’s fear and suspicion, which are very different things.

Later on we see that Louie’s ideals don’t fully match up with his behavior either. “The king turned himself into a monster, but you’re not him. You built a society based on truth, and the truth is you don’t need Mervana to be good.” before turning to Webby and telling her “Somebody once told me that you have to look for the best in people and not assume the worst” and honestly, I don’t feel like this is abnormal thinking for him. Believe it or not, Louie is the kind of person to believe in other’s positive traits. He does very often see the good in people and obviously on a level of principal alone he doesn’t think all people are bad.

However principals and logic are often overcome by the brain’s natural response to trauma. And those natural responses often aren’t as idealistic as “anyone can be good and you shouldn’t assume the worst in people”. Fear and anger and anxiety. Seeing danger everywhere. Always being on guard. They’re not something you can control. No matter how much you believe people can be good that instinctive urge to trust nobody spurred on by trauma is often much stronger. Especially when you’re not getting any professional help and have someone to protect. Even if Louie wanted to believe in people (and I think he does), his survival instincts are stronger than that. Even if he didn’t care about his own safety, he has a family who are too dumb to care about their own so he has to do that for them.

Overall a LOT of Louie’s storyline during Mervana was obviously highlighting his response to the trauma he’s had to deal with over the course of the show. And sadly I don’t think he’ll stop having these reactions anytime soon because it takes more than just knowing people can be good to deal with changes to your brain’s chemical makeup.

#ducktales #louie duck

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yandere-sins · 4 years

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Home

Yantober List! Feel free to participate at any point :3

Ah, the month’s almost at it’s end huh? Man, I might actually tear up at the end of this for finishing another story... My stories really grow on me and then they just end, the tragic of my life ;; However, I quite enjoyed this chapter, a bit more scenery! Hope you like it ♥

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You had to admit, the ocean was beautiful.

Clear, light blue, stones buried in the sand beneath the waves. The rushing was as calming as you expected it to be from the natural sounds that you sometimes listened to before to help you concentrate on your studies. Loud, crashing, and overwhelming, yet mesmerizing. A morbid thought crossed your mind as you watched the water from your car seat, not yet having had the chance to get out while Rhys went inside with the landlords. Apparently, there were some more things to discuss, and you - unable to walk - would have taken too much time to carry around if Rhys had helped you out.

Drowning in these beautiful waves, morbidly romantic as it was, would have not been so bad.

The tapping on the window next to you made you flinch, head twisting around to see Rhys smiling down from outside the car. The car locks clicked as he opened them with the keys, and he opened the door with you, leaning in for a kiss, which you denied by turning your cheek. However, from the corner of your eyes, you could still see the people you rented the house from - your parent’s friends - and you realized it was all show. They couldn’t see if he kissed you or not with his body blocking the view. At least, that meant you were safe from him getting upset about your denial.

“Admiring the scenery?” he asked you, and you merely sighed in response. To be fair, you were exhausted after the five-hour drive, and your legs hurt despite the seat being pulled back as far as possible. However, being a front-seat passenger with Rhys’s driving style wasn’t easy. There also had been a traffic jam where you had wished to escape from Rhys’s monologues but couldn’t even fall asleep next to him.

“Let’s get you out, alright?” he sighed as you didn’t react to him at all, leaving the door open as he went to get the wheelchair. You heard his chipper laugh as he said his farewells to the landlords, who probably thought you were rather rude for not even looking at them, much less greeting or interacting. But you couldn’t care less. Would it have even made a difference if you tried to make them understand in what kind of situation you were? Had Rhys told them you were a bit mentally unstable just in case you tried to pull something that would have made them suspicious? You couldn’t know, and you didn’t try, the chance passing as they left your new home, leaving you to fight all by yourself.

When Rhys was finally by your side again, you didn’t help him, knowing fully well by now he could lift you easily. He had lifted you down the stairs at the apartment and into the car, locking you in knowing fully well you’d at least try to crawl out. The wheelchair squeaked under your weight, its wheels rubbing over the asphalt. You kept your eyes on the ocean until Rhys drove you inside the shop, a concrete wall blocking the beautiful view.

“There we are, look!” Stopping the wheels on your chair, Rhys slipped by you, arms open as you presented the room to you. “Isn’t it perfect? We can open a little shop here, what do you want to sell? Bread? Flowers? Souvenirs? We can make it work! It’ll be our little shop, where we get our hard-earned money from.”

Finally, you let your gaze glide through the space, examining corner to corner. It looked old, a little worn down. The floor was dirty, footsteps everywhere, and you could see cobwebs on the ceiling. A staircase in the far-right indicated another floor above, probably where you were supposed to live from now on. That’s not what you had planned for your life. Having to sell stuff in this crooked little shop. You had wanted to study hard, get a nice degree, maybe work in the city or a big company outside of it. This was all your life would give you? Pathetic. It was pathetic. Rhys was pathetic.

And you… you were pathetic too.

“We’ll clean it,” Rhys assured you, walking up to you again. As if he had read your mind, but really, he just watched you intently as you mustered your surroundings. “Put some parquet flooring down, and have some tables line the walls full of goods, that would be nice, right?” His hand came down onto your head, brushing over it to the back of it while he leaned down to kiss the top. “Our little sanctuary, filled with all that we love, okay? Whatever you want, I will get it for you.”

You wanted to click your tongue, shake your head, make him go away, but you were so exhausted. Exhausted of him, of his doings, of what your life was turning into. Only a deep breath escaped you, and he patted the back of your head tenderly in response. “There’s something I want to show you before we go upstairs, alright?”

Leaving you alone for now, he walked to the back of the room, facing the wall to your left. The corner had been rather dark, but now that he reached for it, you could see the handle of a door sticking from the wall, Rhys opening it up before coming to get you. He left the wheelchair in favor of picking you up, carrying you over, and giving you a first glance of what lay behind the dusty door. Stairs that led down was what welcomed you, and though it was tricky, Rhys did not hesitate shuffling down step by step with you in his arms.

All of a sudden, it became unnaturally dark, with no natural lightning shining in. But if you listened closely, the rushing of water was closer now, and it felt like only a wall was keeping it from flowing in and taking you away. However Rhys managed to see, he eventually leaned over to set you down, his touch disappearing in the dark as he searched for the light switch. With a ‘ping!’ it turned on, a light bulb shining up to illuminate the dark basement. “A basement,” Rhys said with a mix of pride and happiness.

“What do you think? It’s not big, but it’ll do for storage. The wall to the sea is a bit thin, but otherwise, it’s very secure and won’t grow mold or anything. It’s also-” Turning towards you, he wiggled his brows meaningfully. “-sound-proof and can be closed off with a key.”

For a good minute, you two only stared at each other, your thoughts circling over his words, an all too familiar burning appearing in your nose. So that’s what it was for, you thought to yourself. Rhys wasn’t just showing you the rooms; he was actually telling you what he was going to do with you in the future. Already, you could tell that this basement would not become your favorite place in the house, much less if Rhys planned to punish you by locking you in here so that no one could even attempt to find you.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you slowly reached up to hide your face in your palms. Concern darted over his expression, and Rhys marched back over to you, kneeling down with his knees on the steps around your legs. “Hey, it’s fine,” he hushed you, his arms wrapping around your back while he pulled you into his chest. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, you couldn’t help but do the same - at least as much as you could strain your arms. You simply buried your face in the crook of his neck, sobbing quietly.

“I want to go home,” you sniffled, loud enough so he could hear it despite the words being caught in his shirt rather than his ear. “Please take me home, Rhys.”

He rubbed your back attentively as you waited for an answer. Perhaps, if you asked him that nicely, he’d actually consider it for once. Rhys had always liked you most when you depended on him and asked for things that would make him look good in your eyes. However, that was the old Rhys, the one that you could only long for now to see.

“Silly you,” he chuckled. Carefully he pulled you from his chest so you’d see his face even in the shadows of the light. The loving, attentive shine had vanished from his eyes, nothing more than a bit of anger left. “This is home,” he announced, simply, easy. A fact that he decided on, and you would have to comply with as you could feel he wasn’t going to discuss it.

“You’ll come to love it,” were his last words before he kissed your forehead, picking you up again. Leaving the light on, you could only look back over his shoulder as you two left. But you pinched them close, not wanting your thoughts to start cruising and imagine what kind of bad things could happen in this awful room below the earth.

“This is our home now. There’s no need to go back to anything in the past, you understand?”

Somehow, the nagging feeling that his words weren’t just a reaction to yours sat in the back of your head. But with the bit of strength left, you finally gave him a proper answer, nodding your head, not noticing the smile it brought to his lips. “Good,” he whispered, kissing your temple and finally getting out, relieving you of the awful nightmare that this new house would hide in its basement if you happen to not please him a bit more in the future.

Continue

#Yantober #Yandere #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Oneshot #yandere writing #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x oc #yandere tw #Rhys #Rhys Aspen

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baepop · 4 years

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Punishment

Pining for an elusive yet bewitching stranger has its advantages and disadvantages.

Word Count: 10k

Pairing: You x Taehyung

Genre: Smut, Horror, Vampire!Taehyung

There were those eyes again. Those damn eyes that followed you around the room as if you were observing the Mona Lisa. They were the most beautiful you’d seen in a good while, alluring yet mysterious, though you suspected that was attributed to the face holding them. Surely, it too, was out of a Da Vinci painting. Flawless tan skin, pointed nose, ash brown tresses that waved out of his scalp with calculated precision. Was it possible for angels to walk amongst human beings? Surely you were a believer after tonight.

Oh. He’s smiling. Of course, he has a perfect set of pearly whites to boot, why wouldn’t he? You sipped from your glass, refusing to look away as you had previously been doing all night. No, you couldn’t deny your attraction to him anymore. The prolonged eye contact was more intimate than sexual experiences you’d had in the past. They say if someone stares at you for longer than 6 consecutive seconds then they either want to sleep with you or murder you. You wanted to find out so badly which one it was, hoping more so for the former. Either way, you were his prey tonight.

You felt an incessant tapping on your shoulder, causing your eyes to rip away from the tunnel vision you two had built. Eyeing your friend in mild annoyance, she pulled you down to whisper into your ear. “Should I leave with Mike tonight?”

You sighed deeply, a rooted exhaustion you had grown quite familiar with making an appearance as if waiting on queue behind stage curtains. Your best friend and her ex-boyfriend were a five act play of their own, and you were the sole ticket holder forced to sit in an empty theatre and react appropriately.

“Babe, we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep going back to him every time you run into him at a party.” You may as well have been reciting a monologue. That dream-like stare fixated in her gaze was telling, she had already made up her mind.

He’s gone. You did a subtle scan of the room, holding your Tom Collins drink to your lips for dissimulation purposes. The penthouse hosting this party had impressive square footage, he could be anywhere by now. You spared your friend one last glance before setting off to make your move. She was already in the arms of her previously scorned beloved, painful lessons being the only thing that could save her now.

Making your way through each room, your eyes searched frantically amongst the intimate crowds. Your coworkers were littered throughout, sometimes catching your looks in passing and drunkenly beckoning you over. Most of them were people you couldn’t stand to be around, even after a few drinks, so you had perfected the “I can’t hear you” miming down to an exact science.

Could he be in the kitchen, maybe? Your heels clicked against the marble flooring, echoing against the abundant stainless-steel appliances that lined the spotless white walls. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering the possibility that he could’ve left. You plopped yourself down on one of the stools lining the island, ready to sulk with your cocktail in hand.

Work gatherings always bored you half to death. After listening to the same stories for the 10th time, they started to lose their appeal. The only excitement that came was from the random people who’d show up or get invited to dilute the professional crowd. You wondered who had invited that Adonis, you’d be sure to send them a nice memo come Monday.

“May I join you?” A velvety timbre pierced through your reverie. You swished your drink around in your cup, nodding with a smile. There was no need to look up and see who that could be, surely a voice like that could only come from the man who had stolen your attention for the night.

A slight breeze indicated him passing behind you, his thigh slightly brushing against your bare skin as he took a seat next to you. You crossed your legs as you looked over at him for the first time, taking advantage of the close proximity to rake in his appearance in its entirety. Your eyes were drinking from a sacred river, your sexual prowess finding salvation.

Your pupils followed his sinful tongue as it dragged across his bottom lip, wetting everything in its path. Your mouth swallowed involuntarily as your eyes took a road trip down the expanse of his neck and stopped at the fork in the road at his parted button up. Maroon was definitely his color.

“I take it you like what you see?” His chuckle was sinister, each contraction of his diaphragm resonating with the deepest parts of your core.

You smirked and took a sip of your drink. “That’s an understatement.”

The padding of feet running down the hallway towards the kitchen was too distracting to ignore. Suddenly your best friend’s shaking figure approached the entryway, the trauma in her eyes evident. You slid out of your seat and hurried over to her, holding her shoulders firmly as you struggled to get her to look at you.

Her lip quivered, unshed tears threatening to spill. “M-Mike…he…” She broke down into a full sob, embracing your midsection and burying her head in your bosom. A deep sense of dread grew within you. You’d never seen her distressed like this. You glanced behind you, suddenly remembering your elusive guest. He was gone yet again.

“Did he hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him.” She shook her head adamantly, looking up at you with a runny nose and smeared mascara.

“He—He’s dead!” Your lips became pale as all of the color drained from your face. You held her head to your chest, cooing and patting her disheveled hair. It was only then that you began noticing people grabbing their belongings in a hurry. The music had stopped playing after a blood curdling scream reverberated throughout the apartment. You removed your blazer and draped it over the girl, leading her to one of the stools.

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back, okay?” She nodded, unable to formulate a coherent sentence as sobs continued to wrack her entire body.

You rubbed the goosebumps on your arms, a sudden chill apparent in every room and corridor you walked through. The penthouse had cleared out quickly, yet a healthy crowd of people remained in the parlor. You squeezed past frantic party goers to get to the balcony. Just as you cleared the onlookers, a meaty hand hovered in front of your chest and halted you in your tracks. You looked up at the gentleman, unable to recognize him but grateful for his concern.

You lowered his hand and smiled weakly. “It’s okay, I can take it. I’m with his girlfriend, I need to see what happened, for her.” The man sighed, contemplating your reasoning before holding his arms out to stop other people from getting past him. You took the opportunity to exit through the glass doors that lead to the balcony. The air was below freezing, but somehow you couldn’t quite feel it, the sensation of weightlessness overpowering everything else. Your breathing became shallow as you placed your hands on the icy railing, leaning just past it to look 42 stories down.

The scene was gruesome, even from the impressive height you were observing it from. To put it simply, Mike was a stain on the pavement, surely unrecognizable if not for his distinct beige sweater vest now stained crimson. You swallowed vile as squad cars blared their horns on the way to the grisly scene splayed on the outside of one of the city’s fanciest hotels.

You hurried to find your best friend in the pandemonium that had transmuted your quaint work party. She wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, but it didn’t take long to find her near the elevator, being questioned by two policemen. She was frantic and her body language was defensive, causing the two gentlemen to exchange looks numerous times. You hurried to her side with your coats and purses in tow.

“Excuse me, I’m her lawyer. My client isn’t in any state to answer questions right now.” You helped her put her coat on as she fell silent, short of sniffling. Before leaving, you handed one of the officers your business card. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you may have. We’ll fully cooperate to any investigations underway in the future. Have a goodnight.” You were used to the exasperated look from law enforcement whenever you halted their invasive questioning.

Your primary concern for the night was tending to your best friend’s shattered state. She had stopped crying by the time you had arrived outside of her house, though you weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Her hand paused on the door as you reached out and held her forearm.

“Before you go, while it’s just us here, I have to ask. What exactly happened?” Your eyes were flooded with concern. Her nose and her eyes were crimson, her dream-like gaze now replaced with a ghostly stare. She nodded, knowing by now it was your obligation as her attorney.

“We were going to go downstairs and get a room for the night, but he wanted a cigarette first, so he went outside for a quick smoke. When I noticed he was gone a little too long I went out to the balcony to look f-for him.” Her voice began shaking, recalling the horror splayed in front of her disbelieving eyes. “H-He wasn’t drunk I…I don’t know why—"

You shushed her, rubbing her shoulder to halt her from saying any more. “That’s all I needed to hear. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know it’ll be hard but try and get some sleep. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” Your heart was breaking for her. You idled outside of her house until you saw her enter safely.

A sadness washed over you on the drive home and it didn’t quite leave you for days on end, the eerie feeling of death so close to you putrefying mundane tasks every time you remembered the current state of affairs. You had always wanted your best friend to move on from him, but not like this, not in a way that was so utterly disturbing that it’d affect her future relationships devastatingly so.

Part of you also hated the way people who died young became immortalized as saints. You held back the need to spit into the soft dirt that surrounded the plot. That cheating bastard surely didn’t deserve such a ghastly demise, but he also didn’t deserve to be honored so wholly by his faithful girlfriend. Still, you knew she needed to say goodbye to her greatest love, so you held her hand as she gave her beautifully melancholy speech in front of Mike’s friends and family.

It had only taken a couple of days to make funeral arrangements and plan the ceremony, closed casket of course. You held your umbrella with your free hand as you looked around the funeral attendees behind the privacy of your sunglasses. It seemed the sky was also intent on spitting on his grave, the brooding clouds hovering ominously above the small assembly. Most of the guests were familiar faces, but you had expected as much, the irony of the absence of his long-time frat brothers who’d conceal his disgusting behavior tugging at the corners of your mouth. There was one face you hadn’t expected to come across, however.

After dreaming of those features for nights on end, you’d recognize them anywhere. Much to your surprise, he was already looking at you, though his facial expression wasn’t as inviting as it had been that night. His expression was grave, his eyes empty and his lips set in a hard line. You wondered if he and Mike were close, and if so, you wondered why you’d never seen him until recently. You offered him a small polite smile before turning back to your best friend who was struggling to get through her speech without breaking down. You squeezed her hand, letting her know it was okay to cry, or to just stop talking altogether.

As the ceremony came to a close, and the crowd dissipated into smaller groups of mourners as they hurried to get out of the pouring rain, you couldn’t help gravitating towards your mystery man. Your best friend was busy speaking to Mike’s parents, so you decided it might be okay to leave her side even if only momentarily. You approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him from his reverie. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he stared into the grave.

After a minute, you cleared your throat, looking at the ground as well. “Were you two close?”

The man looked over at you absentmindedly as if noticing your presence for the first time. “Something like that. What about you?”

You held out strong under the immense pressure of his gaze, your knees threatening to buckle. After replaying the events of that night many times, you realized your initial feelings hadn’t been exaggerated after all. It wasn’t just his beauty that had the ability to command a room, but his presence as well. You felt the pressure around you shift, feeling oddly alone with him in the middle of an outdoor gathering.

“Hardly. I’m here for support.” You both looked over at your best friend who was hugging Mike’s mom.

“My condolences.” The man turned to you, looking down as your eyes met back up with his.

You smiled and nodded, thanking him as you turned towards him as well. “Our encounters are always so brief, and I still don’t know your name. Can I at least give you my card this time, before you go? Maybe we can get to know each other properly.” You looked up at him with hopeful eyes, watching as his irises darkened.

He drew his slender hand out of his pocket and tipped your chin up with one of his delicate fingers. “Oh, we will be seeing each other again, much sooner than you think.” An alluring smile parted his lips, showing you those perfect teeth again. You were helpless to his charm, his demeanor baleful yet deliciously inviting. You swallowed thickly, unsure of whether he was rejecting you or asking you out.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being called out in the distance like the incessant ringing of an alarm clock in the background of an intense dream. He dropped your chin as you turned to look over your shoulder. Your best friend and Mike’s parents were waving you over. “We’re leaving now!”

“Okay, be right there!” You shouted back at them, turning back to your enigmatic love interest. He was gone, as much unsurprising to you as it was vexing. You searched among the groups of people dispersing, unable to make him out anywhere. With a sigh, you trudged over to your friend, hoping that his word would come true. You wanted to see him again so, so badly.

And you did see him again, at least in the form of a fever dream later that night when you finally got to bed. The day’s events had been so taxing that you only had enough energy to strip and crawl onto your bed. You laid over the sheets, feeling the satin with your hands as you made something akin to snow angels. You hummed, your eyelids sealing shut as they bared the weight of your best friends world crashing down. The onslaught of tragic events had you so wound up and distracted that you’d forgotten how long it’d been since you felt the lustful touch of a man. Your fingers slid over your breast, tugging on your hardened nipples as they traveled further south.

When did it get so cold? I don’t remember leaving the window open.

Slowly yet steadily, you fingers crept over your stomach, then your pubic bone as they slid under your lace underwear. You hummed again as your cold fingers slid past your folds, a violent shiver wracking through your body as they made contact with the growing slick between your legs.

You thought about past hookups that were now, at best, dull memories of men without faces, indistinguishable bachelor pads setting various scenes. None of them excited you enough to get off on, that is until you thought about him.

His angelic face flashed in your mind, the devilish curl of his lips oh so telling in the things he was imagining he might do to you. You licked your lips, another chill causing goosebumps to break through the surface of your bare skin. You arched your back as you plunged a digit into your core, lapping up the juices to better lubricate your clit. Your eyes refused to open, to investigate why your room was getting so cold, but it’s not like you cared enough, not when there was a fire ablaze in between your legs.

The incessant burning began at the tips of your fingers pumping in and out of you and traveled outwards from your core. Your lower stomach twitched as the feeling of being slowly set on fire spread to your extremities. It’d be so painful if it wasn’t so delicious. You craved to be consumed, engulfed in the feeling of having your mystery man’s undivided attention. The image of his eyes on you continued to replay over and over like a film reel running on repeat. His eyes sweeping over you, blinking seductively as the filthiest fantasies shown unabashedly across his features. You were panting, removing your fingers from inside you in favor of giving in to the unknown pleasure that was taking over. A small voice in the back of your head questioned everything that was going on, but who were you to listen? You had an all-consuming need that was being tended to.

Suddenly his honey brown orbs were darkening to shades blacker than black, colder than the night you two had met. You moaned out, feeling your legs being spread apart. Your knees hit the bed and your arms laid beside your head. Surrendering yourself to the pleasure was easy. You were hot now, so, so hot that it was suffocating. Dimples formed on the inside of your thighs, his grasp staking a claim over your flesh. Your back arched as you felt his tongue licking a stripe up your sex. Sighs of relief slipped past your parted lips rhythmically. More, more, you needed more. Who was he?

Your head tossed and turned, vivid imagery of your firm party in full swing, dancing behind your eyelids. No matter where you turned, looking for your angel, he was nowhere to be found, yet the presence of his ominous eyes followed you to every room. Everywhere you looked, he was always just out of reach, both far and near. You were sick, consumed with the need to get to him, unknowing that he was with you all along. A minacious chuckle reverberated so loudly within your fantasy, you weren’t sure if it came from your mind or from within your bedroom.

His tongue was now circling inside you, making you feel full yet needier still. You couldn’t help fucking yourself against his face, the chuckle now coming clearly from between your legs. The thought of him slipping into your room in the quiet of the night excited you. You chased your high with fervor, wanting – no, needing to find your release. However, part of you knew that it was him who was pulling the strings all along, so you danced like a puppet on strings and prayed for mercy.

He was now leaning over your body, slowly circling his hips in between your legs making sure to rub your clit in the most exquisite way. His hands took hold of yours, keeping them above your head. You felt his cold fingers lace themselves in between yours, sizzling your burning flesh on the surface. His lips were at your ear speaking in that deep sultry voice you’d never be able to forget. Yet the voice came from inside your head, although you were sure you felt his distinct breath tickling your ear.

“Who am I? Darling, I’m the man of your dreams.” You hissed as he chuckled, the sound becoming deeper and deeper as you floated higher and higher into a frenzied state. You wanted to cum so badly, pleas slipping from your mouth incessantly.

“Your name…what’s your name?” You panted out, your words turning into condensation in the stale chill of your bedroom.

He leaned in, and when he spoke, you instantly came undone. You cried out in pleasure and in pain. Jolting upright, your eyes finally burst open and searched the room frantically as you came to. Your body was covered in sweat from head to toe and your fingers were wetter still as you removed them from your core, your juices dripping from your digits. You caught your breath, unable to make anything of the situation. Had you been touching yourself in your sleep? That’d never happened before.

You sighed and began stripping your soiled sheets from the bed, unable to shake the haunting feeling that emanated from within you. And those eyes, they’d kept following you even long after your fever dream had ended so abruptly. As you dowsed your body in cold water from your showerhead that night, you kept looking over your shoulder, convinced you’d see something horrifying staring back at you, the name Taehyung echoing in the depths of your thoughts like the utterances of a poltergeist.

You could no longer find peace in anything you did following that fateful night, the feeling of being incomplete always just under the surface of your psyche. Your only solace was the mountain of paperwork that awaited you at your desk every morning, mountains of mind-numbing tasks that would help you pass the time. You didn’t have to think too much when you were buried under a pile of corporate by-laws and non-disclosure agreements.

You simply loved working at the firm. While some would call you a workaholic, you preferred careerwoman. Your friends and coworkers just couldn’t understand your preference for staying late at the office instead of going out with them for drinks. The truth was that there was no one for you to come home to and therefore no excuse to limit your potential income.

Then there was the more truthful reasoning, that growing up without had turned you into someone who was ruthless. Your earlier work was nothing to brag about, though it got you the stepping-stone you needed to launch your career in corporate law. Your fresh-faced, former self newly graduated from law school would have never guessed that bailing criminals out of serving time was her ticket to accessing the kind of money that would change hers and her family’s life forever. However, you were by no means proud of it, so you tried not to think of the kinds of things all of those guilty scumbags might be up to as they ran rampant on the streets again, thanks to you. Perhaps the only thing that disturbed you more than exactly how many victims never got justice thanks to you, was your skillful knack for doing it. You had garnered a reputation, it seemed, as all kinds of shady individuals threw money at you to make their pesky problems disappear. You grabbed at the cash eagerly for some time, but as soon as a cleaner way to earn income presented itself, you found yourself spending days on end behind your desk away from all the things you were ashamed of, almost as if you could bury your past underneath all of your new accomplishments. An impossible task, you knew, but it didn’t stop you from giving it your all.

As you sat in your office and watched your coworkers leaving together by the handful, a sudden phone call caught your attention. It was your best friend, begging you to attend church with her that evening. Having too much paperwork wasn’t a suitable enough excuse as she knew all about your workaholic tendencies all too well, so you begrudgingly shrugged on your peacoat and headed for the elevators. Organized religion wasn’t your thing, but you’d make anything your thing so long as your best friend could be comforted during these trying times.

You found yourself sitting at the end of an uncomfortable wooden bench just 30 minutes later, many just like it filling the hollow room of the sacred space your best friend frequented weekly. Though the space was filled with warm bodies, there was somehow a coldness in the air that had you draping your coat over your shoulders. Everyone had their eyes closed as they whispered in unison. You took the intimate opportunity to take in the vast room and the artwork that adorned the windows. The walls were lined with mosaics depicting what ancient peoples deemed angels might look like. All kinds of barely clothed, rubenesque women holding children on their laps stared down at the congregation with apathy in their vacant stares. Your eyes swept over the intimidating appearance of the organ that sat at the head of the room, looking out at all of the devoted attendees. Amongst the sea of bowed heads, shiny brown tresses at the forefront caught your eye.

He was seated alone, dressed in a peacoat and sweater of the same black color. Your eyes burned holes into his back, wondering how exactly it was that you kept running into him. Almost as if responding to your internal beckoning, he silently rose to his feet and slowly turned towards you. You gasped, wondering if he had seen you coming in. A wide crooked grin grew lazily on his face, his dark eyes holding you in a trance. You were so laser focused on him that your eyes caught his tongue dancing behind his teeth, even from several rows behind him. He began walking out of the church, but not before stopping at your bench and extending his hand out towards you. Your heart fluttered as you looked around. No one was paying attention to the two of you whatsoever, and your best friend looked awfully busy, so you took the opportunity to steal out of the cathedral, feeling like two kids doing something you shouldn’t be. You smiled down at yourself, feeling elementary as your hand tingled in his delicate grasp.

“Shall we go for a walk?” The tall stranger gazed down at you enticingly, bearing his pearly whites. You bit your lip and nodded as he pulled you along towards a dirt path that lead to the church’s cemetery.

You watched your feet trudge along the path for a while in silence before you finally thought of what to say. “I’m starting to think you’re following me.”

The man chuckled richly, his eyes twinkling as he squeezed your hand. You couldn’t help but smile in return, feeling as if you’ve known him for a long time. “Would it be so bad if I was?” He looked back at you, his eyes lingering on your lips.

“Well, it would explain why you were so certain we’d meet again.” You two continued along the dirt path, passing stragglers in the open field. Most were making their departure in time with the setting sun.

“And here I thought we ran in the same circles.” He smiled, enjoying a private joke.

You shook your head, “I don’t think we do. I would’ve definitely remembered seeing you somewhere.”

He hummed in response. “Is that so?” You bit your lip and nodded, the sultriness in his town making your heart flutter anew. “The feeling is mutual. I actually haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He smiled shyly as you two came to a halt in front of one of the many plots lining the path.

Your breath stuttered at his small admittance. You couldn’t wrap your head around someone like him possibly reciprocating your feelings. You hummed, wanting to tease him a bit. “Well if that’s even a little true then you have some explaining to do. Leaving a girl guessing won’t get you far, you know.”

He tsked, pulling you to him by the hand then holding you firmly against him by the hips. You gasped, his sweet scent filling your nostrils. Your eyes took their time on their ascent towards his face, drinking in his intoxicating proximity to you. His chest protruded against your palms where they laid, the black turtleneck he was sporting doing wonders for your libido.

As you looked up at him, you were transfixed by his obsidian gaze, his arms around you tightening as if you’d ever dare leave. You swallowed thickly, your clouded thoughts fervently pleading for a taste of his lips.

“What ever happened to the mystery in romance?” He spoke softly as if others were around to hear you. Your lips parted as your glistening tongue laid in wait, your mind barely aware of how you two gravitated towards each other inch by inch.

“Turns out I’m not much of a romantic. I like having what I want, when I want it.” You challenged him, yet your cheekiness only served to urge him on. A low growl rumbled in his chest, a snarl forming on his soft lips.

“Oh, but you have me already.” He grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his nose, running it along the soft skin just past your bracelet. You stared at him in wonder as he panted with desire. You couldn’t be bothered being ashamed of your amorous public display in the middle of the field. You’d had enough of waiting as you resolved in crashing your lips against his, but before you did, you considered asking one last question.

“At least tell me your name.” He smiled wickedly as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, the eerie déjà vu feeling startling you. He squeezed your wrist tightly, almost to the point of pain.

“I’ve already told you my name. Don’t you remember? Or were you too busy fucking your fingers to remember?” He grinned salaciously while releasing your arm. You gasped as you felt your body become weightless in your descent towards the pit that was dug out just for you. You reached out to him for help, but he simply stood there licking his lips. Darkness surrounded you as your back hit the bottom of the plot with a thud. The only source of light was the narrow rectangle of sky above you. The impact had knocked the wind out of your lungs, leaving you gasping desperately for air. Your eyes searched frantically for signs of help, but all they observed was Taehyung squatting and peering into the grave. He tsked with pity as if in mourning.

“T…T—” You wheezed, unable to form his name or cry out for help. You grabbed handfuls of dirt around you, trying to find the leverage you needed to get up and out of the hole you had fallen in, but no matter how much time had passed, you still couldn’t catch your breath. Taehyung began shoveling dirt into the plot until it was completely level with the ground, leaving you burried under seven thousand pounds of dirt.

Clawing at your chest and panting in a sweat, you bolted upright. Your satin sheets slid off of your chest and formed a crumpled heap on your lap. Your hands clawed at your neck; the feeling of dirt lodged in your esophagus still present. You coughed and spluttered, expecting to expel remnants of your grave but coming up short. Your breath shook as tears fell hot and silent down your cheek. You were so shaken that you absolutely couldn’t go back to sleep.

You tried making a hot cup of tea and putting on some mellow tunes, but nothing could qualm the inner panic that bubbled violently beneath your dazed exterior. Your fingers shook as they struggled to find your best friend’s contact on your phone. The phone rang three times before a groggy voice greeted you from the other end.

“Hey,” You breathed the words with relief, willing your beating heart to slow down, “sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no it’s okay! What’s wrong babe?”

She seemed alarmed, so you tried to speak in a soothing tone so as not to worry her. “Nothing! Just…wanted someone to talk to. I had the worst nightmare and I need to get my mind off of it.” You chuckled lightly but she was unconvinced.

“What was the nightmare about?”

You took a moment to think, not knowing where to start. You weren’t exactly sure what was real and what wasn’t. Had you actually met up with him? Had you even gone to church yesterday?

“Okay, this is going to sound weird…but did I go to church with you yesterday?” There was a long pause before your friend spoke, sounding thoroughly confused.

“…Yesterday? The church doesn’t offer services on Thursdays, you know that.” You swallowed thickly, a fresh wave of sweat beading on the surface of your neck. “But I did invite you last week. You told me you would come but you never showed. Is that what you’re talking about?” You furrowed your brows while searching for the date on your phone. “Was your nightmare about church or something?”

Your bottom lip quivered as you struggled to hold back fresh tears. You were absolutely sure that you had been at work just yesterday when you agreed to go with her, yet somehow an entire week had passed since then and you didn’t remember any of it. Had you been asleep that whole time? That’s impossible.

You scrolled through your messages and saw a couple from your coworkers who had texted you worried throughout the week. You had never missed a day from work before.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“Y-Yeah! Sorry I—it’s stupid. I’ll call you tomorrow okay?”

She paused before answering, concern evident in her tone. “Well, alright. But don’t disappear like that again! I was worried when I wasn’t hearing from you these past few days. Try and get some sleep. Goodnight.”

After the line went dead, a dreadful silence ensued. You looked around your apartment, the furniture and photographs on the walls suddenly feeling so alien to you. You grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around yourself as you settled on the couch, shivering in deep thought until the sun’s rays began peaking through the cracks of your curtains. You weren’t sure how long you sat there in thought, but it was suddenly time to get ready for work, if you still had a job that was.

The day that followed your resuscitation was strangely normal. Your coworkers greeted you with concern when you got to the office, but you had been equipped with a viable excuse for your absence, conjured in the privacy of your drive to work. Thankfully, none of them decided to pry, since you yourself still had no idea what happened to you.

The first thing you did was close your door and begin googling if it was possible to be unconscious for days after falling asleep, but only studies of narcolepsy appeared in the search results. That also wouldn’t help you, since you don’t even remember going to bed in the first place. You had woken up in the same clothes you had worn to work that day as well. You pondered the possibility of having been roofied sometime after work, but that didn’t hold much merit either.

Much to your displeasure, the workday had ended as fast as it had arrived. You absolutely abhorred the idea of returning to your cold and solitary apartment but being alone at the office afterhours had also lost its appeal. You didn’t want to be alone with your chilling thoughts under any circumstances. So, when your coworkers walked past your office in a hurry to make happy hour at a local bar, you hurried to meet up with them, much to their surprise.

The bar was huge and already crowded by the time you all had arrived. Your coworkers frequented it on Fridays, since the venue turns into a club at night and hosts some of the best DJ’s in the city. You immediately understood the appeal as you all took purchase in a secluded section adorned with red cushioned love seats and a small table front and center. The section was a bit big for your party of four, so one of your coworkers texted an invite to a couple of guys that worked at another firm downtown. While they made their way to this side of town, you all didn’t waste any time getting loose with a few shots.

The warm liquor flowing through your body eased the tension present since you awoke and it didn’t take much at all before you were able to focus on stories being told and laughing along appropriately. You were starting to think you might actually be able to have some fun after all of the weirdness going on in your life as of late.

By the time the boys arrived, the DJ had already begun his set and the music was ten times as loud as it was before, making it increasingly difficult to maintain a conversation. On the bright side, no one was talking anymore as you all had started singing and swaying to the beats in your buzzed states.

It was your loudest coworker who had noticed them shuffling through the packed crowds hoarding the bar. She squealed and stood up, waving them over as you all shuffled closer together to make space for them. A blush joined the liquor glow that was already apparent on your cheeks. They were all extremely handsome, making it hard to maintain eye contact as everyone greeted each other. You took turns smiling at each one as they took seats on either side of the couch. When you reached the last face, your heart nearly stopped. It was your mystery man, adorned in a black suit and tie identical to the ones his apparent coworkers wore. You couldn’t help ogling at him, causing the boy to blush and clear his throat as he took a seat at the end of the couch.

Your friend elbowed you and whispered in your ear, “Oh my god, you’re staring! Do you two know each other or something?”

“Something like that.” You smiled at her widely. The alcohol was already dismantling your inhibitions.

A waitress appeared shortly afterwards to take everyone’s drink orders. You watched as the tanned adonis ordered for the table. The waitress giggled and bit her lip as she nodded to everything he said, hanging on his every word in a fashion that didn’t strike you as professionalism in the slightest. But who were you to blame her? You, too, were transfixed on the way his lips danced with every word that departed. You swallowed absentmindedly every time his tongue jutted out to wet his lip. You weren’t sure if he could feel your eyes on him, so when they both turned towards you, you froze. He looked at you seductively through half lidded eyes, his long fingers rubbing his chin briefly as a look of amusement arranged his facial features. He turned back to the waitress and finished his order while you tried to look anywhere else but at him, feeling slightly embarrassed for getting caught.

You cleared your throat and initiated a conversation with the girl closest to you, hoping that it’d make you seem more aloof than you actually were. However, it seemed you had nothing to worry about since you caught him staring at you a few times, easing your initial fears and serving as an ego boost. You started to wonder how or when you might be able to talk to him, since you were too far from each other to start a conversation.

When your coworker became distracted by the blonde with a dazzling smile sitting next to her, you allowed yourself to watch your angel nonchalantly. You still felt a bit guarded towards him, given the role he played in the nightmare that shook you to your core, but you tried your best to rid yourself of those illogical thoughts. It was silly to feel he was dangerous, especially as you watched him chat and laugh happily amongst his coworkers. You watched the way his eyebrows shot up during a punchline, the way his smile grew horizontally in the most adorable way, and how he’d lean back when something was especially funny. He seemed to be well liked amongst his group, and even amongst your own coworkers, and the staff here for that matter.

From what you had gathered by listening in on the conversations going on within earshot, they were all employed at a marketing firm not too far from here and were all well acquainted with the girl who invited them.

His words from the funeral rang in your ear once more. Oh, we will be seeing each other again, much sooner than you think. A small smile formed on your lips as you watched the waitress approach your section with your drinks. It had never occurred to you that he might’ve already known who you were, which would explain his confidence in meeting you again.

As the waitress placed the drinks on the table, everyone took turns grabbing theirs. You lifted the glass placed in front of you for further inspection. A Tom’s Collins. Looking up again in the direction of your mystery man, you found his attention to be on you once more. You quirked a brow at him and he winked cheekily at you, his suggestive smile refusing to go unnoticed. You grinned and took a sip. He’s got a good memory.

Soon enough, your group split up into smaller sections. Some headed outside for a cigarette while others squeezed their way through drunken professionals to get to the bar. You took the opportunity of space freeing up on the couch to get up and sit by the man who had captivated your interest.

He had taken a minute to check his phone, but instantly smiled up at you and put it away as he watched you approach him. He moved his drink over on the table and scooted down to make room for you as you smoothed your pencil skirt before plopping down. You were instantly pleased with your decision as the smell of his cologne wafted into your personal space. Not only did he look delicious, but he also smelled it too. This man was going to be the death of you.

He turned his attention to you, raking your appearance in dramatically with hungry eyes. They lingered on your legs for a beat too long, observing the hem of your skirt that rode further up along your legs throughout the night. He licked his lip as his head snapped up to meet your inquisitive stare. Suddenly you were reminded of how forward he had been the night you two first met, and it only enabled the growing dampness that soaked your underwear through and through.

“I take it you like what you see.”

“That’s an understatement.” You both chuckled at the callback and sipped on your drinks, instantly being transported to that cold night.

“So, what’s a girl gotta do around here to find a dance partner?” You smiled cheekily at him and he returned the expression.

“Your wish is my command, beautiful.” You blushed at the compliment as he swiftly stood and held his hand out to you. You took it and led him to the center of the dance floor, wrapping your arms around his neck once you found the perfect spot out of sight from ogling eyes. His hands slid around to the small of your back and pressed you up against him as you two swayed to the beat. A chill ran along your spine at the feeling of déjà vu that presented itself. Focusing on swaying your hips in time to the beat, you tried to remind yourself that it really was just a dream.

Your hands shook as they settled on his chest, just as they had before. You looked up at him, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading to your extremities. He leaned his forehead on yours with concern in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You smiled in return, looking into his eyes before finding the resolve to grab onto his tie and pull him into you for a kiss.

His lips overpowered yours ravenously at first, but you soon matched the intensity as your hands held onto the back of his neck for leverage. The kiss was as wet as it was sloppy, both of you clawing onto each other for dear life and gasping for air in intervals. Your tongues tangled themselves in your mouths as his hands slid further down your back to give your ass a healthy squeeze. You broke away, the sinful moment sobering you enough to look around for any spectators.

Before you could do a full sweep, his thumb and forefinger enclosed around your chin and pulled your focus back onto him. You looked up at his blown-out pupils, the look on his face tantalizing and the massive growing bulge pressed up against your pelvis proving the power in its temptation.

You smiled and brought his ear down to your mouth. “Wanna get out of here?” He smiled and nodded in return before you led him outside. Realizing you left your car at work, he held up his own car keys much to your relief.

“Mind if we go to your place?”

“Sure, but only if you stay the night.” You smiled and bit your lip, hoping he’d agree to it so you wouldn’t have to be alone in your apartment.

“Your wish, remember?” He purred in a coquettish manner that had your toes curling prematurely. By now you had already accepted your overpowering attraction to this stranger.

It wasn’t long before you were both crashing into your furniture, a trail of clothing leading to your bedroom. You stood against the wall in nothing but your underwear with your leg hooked over your guest’s shoulder. He knelt before you on the hardwood floors in nothing but his unbuttoned white shirt and his black boxer briefs. Your eyes drank in the expanse of his tanned skin which stretched over his taught pecs and toned stomach. His bulging thighs were spread as he buried his head in between your legs. His teeth pulled on the fabric of your underwear which only served to edge you along further.

Normally, you enjoyed tons of foreplay, but it felt as if you two had began the foreplay weeks ago when you had first laid eyes on each other. Now, you didn’t want to wait any longer. You whimpered as your moistened underwear snapped back to your sex with a crack. He groaned, digging his nose into your clit and repeating the torturous act.

“Fuck, please just take them off already.”

“Feeling needy already?” He teased you further before chuckling profoundly and pulling your underwear to the side. He looked up at you and inhaled deeply, reveling in the way you squirmed and blushed over him. He wet his tongue before licking at your hole and up towards the apex of your lips. You shuttered at the overwhelming feeling of relief. You were finally getting his attention where you needed it the most. Your thighs began closing on instinct as the electric pulses that radiated from him flicking your clit became almost too much to take. He massaged your thigh with his broad hand to get you to relax while the other massaged at your entrance. You jerked your hips, welcoming his fingers inside of you. He held them just at the entrance as he looked up at you from between your legs. When he was satisfied with the view, he plunged two fingers into you and began easing them in and out of you languidly, taking his time to find your g-spot. You couldn’t stop moaning as your arousal leaked out of you endlessly. Once he found the fleshy mound inside of you that instantly made you want to scream, he stopped licking at your clit in favor of watching you fall apart for him. And it didn’t take long at all. You had immediately surrendered to the feeling of the pent-up stimulation threatening to break free. He stood up without letting his fingers cease their motion, milking you for everything you had as you held onto him for support.

He bit his lip with unadulterated lust as he crashed them into you once more. You were limp against his hard body on yours, your head still swimming from your high. In one swift motion, he brought both your legs up to his hips and carried you to your bed. Once his knees met the edge, you both fell back onto the mattress with a bounce earning a fit of chuckles from you both. He got ride of his shirt and your soaked underwear, taking his time to take in your naked body as he palmed his massive erection over the fabric of his underwear.

Your chest heaved with desire, not ready to call it quits even after the amazing orgasm you had just had. He looked like a god standing over you, even with the light sheen of sweat that shown on his chest and the dewy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. He was absolutely perfect in every way, and the fact that his sole attention was on you had you glowing from the inside out.

He spread your legs wide and gazed at your sex then up at your face, sinking down onto you to give the rest of your body some much needed attention. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin as he trailed sultry kisses from the base of your ear, down your neck, across your collar bones and onto the softness of your breasts. He took his time licking and sucking on the engorged buds before that familiar feeling began resonating deep inside of you and causing the orgasmic sensation to build up again. You breathed shallowly and circled your hips under him, wanting to feel him rocking into you already. He ignored your needy response in favor of continuing the thorough service that your body so readily responded to.

Your stomach heaved as he planted kisses and licked some of your most sensitive spots. You watched him silently, wanting him to fuck you so badly but also wanting to see what he’d do to you next. Your eyes met each time you reacted to his touch, eliciting a smile from him and a blush from you. When he planted a kiss just under your naval, he blew on your core and thoroughly enjoyed the way it made you squirm under him. He came back up and caged your head in with his arms, brushing his lips tenderly on yours before you began kissing him eagerly. You moaned into the kiss as he began rocking his covered erection onto your clit. Your legs quivered involuntarily, welcoming the feeling of slight overstimulation that ensued.

When your walls began clenching, you broke away from the tender kiss, panting. “How long are you going to keep me waiting?” He smiled and brushed his nose along your skin on the way to your ear. When his gravelly voice vibrated on your eardrum, a full body shudder wracked your body.

“Turn around and bend over for me.” You bit your lip and nodded, excitement blooming in your chest. You knew his length was massive from the intimidating silhouette outlined on his briefs.

You obeyed his orders as soon as he got off of you, getting on all fours and perking your ass up for him. You felt his broad hand on the small of your back push you onto the mattress which elicited a carnal groan from him. His hand came down hard onto the skin of your bottom with a loud smack. You whimpered at the stinging feeling as our walls clenched once more. He grabbed at the flesh greedily, a string of curses freeing his bottom lip from his teeth. He took turns smacking and groping your ass, enjoying how the marks that bloomed on your skin became physical proof of his time with you.

When he had his fill, you felt the bed dip and groan as he got on his knees behind you. He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you against him, but this time, you could feel the bear skin of his cock resting along your slit. He moved his hips a bit, and with it, his length along your dripping sex. You moaned softly and wiggled a bit, wanting him to indulge you so badly. His hand returned to your back, but this time, it slid upwards towards the nape of your neck and grabbed all of your hair. Your head was yanked back as his fist acted as a ponytail, the curve of your back bending further at his will. Your fingers grasped at the sheets as you waited impatiently, and thankfully, he seemed to finally be taking mercy on you.

Slowly but steadily, the head of his leaking cock pushed into you, meeting some resistance from the tightness of your walls but was lubricated enough to slide in undeterred. Your answering moan was more of a cry since he instantly began pumping in and out of you with ferocity. Your knees spread to allow him better access to which he took the opportunity to speed up.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” You sank onto the bed while keeping your ass in place for him, “fuck I’m going to cum again if you keep this up.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers tightened around your hair. “You’re a needy little slut, aren’t you?” You could only moan in response, his words getting you impossibly wetter. With his free hand, he began smacking your ass again, biting his lip as it jiggled with each thrust of his hips. “Look at you, bent over like this for some guy you barely even know. You get off on that kind of thing? Hm?” He pulled on your strands when you didn’t answer fast enough. You struggled to agree, your eyes crinkling shut at the feeling of your orgasm fast approaching.

When the pitch of your moans grew higher, he quickly pulled out and slapped his blushing shaft against your clit, sending intense pulses to your core. You turned around to face him, realizing exactly what he wanted as he licked his bottom lip and eyed you wickedly. He held his glistening cock straight out and took your chin in his other hand, leading your pretty lips to the head of his dick. Taking hold of your hair again, he watched you open your warm and inviting mouth then slowly led you down his length. With a loud groan, he tossed his head back and began fucking into your mouth, hitting the end of your throat. You moaned around his dick which only served to fluster him more.

“Fuck. You take my dick so well. And you look so pretty doing it too.” He looked down at you as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. Your hand inched towards your core, rubbing circles on your clit as he continued to use your mouth. He was too hot for words.

When he noticed you fingering yourself, he pulled out and flipped you over on your side. Positioning himself behind you on his side as well, he hooked his arm around your thigh and lifted your leg up as his slippery cock eased into you again. This time, you both groaned in unison.

His lips were at your ear, causing your high to come back much quicker with every guttural sound that left his sinful lips. Your walls clenched around his girth each time his lips were at your ear, uttering the filthiest things imaginable to edge you further. His fingers left dimples on your thighs as his hips refused to falter in their relentless motion, a mission to get you to fall apart all over again. You relished the erotic details of his fucking you as your high picked up where it had left off.

“Mm, you’re good at this.” You closed your eyes as you both chuckled at your appraisal.

“Don’t compliment me just yet, wait until I give you something to scream about.” You moaned loudly as his fingers found your clit and began circling expertly. “Now, be a good little slut and say my name so I can let you cum.”

You quirked your brow and smiled at his cheeky command. “But you never told me your name.” You humored him with feigned innocence in your voice.

His answering laugh was a few octaves lower than you were expecting it to be, causing your eyes to snap open. Just then, the feeling of your orgasm approaching was too much to bear as your thighs threatened to close again, but his hold on you was ironclad. “Oh, but you do know it. You called out to me, don’t you remember?” He hissed as your slick walls made a vice grip on his throbbing member. His hips continued relentlessly while you hovered in a state of pure pleasure and helplessness.

“I—I did?” You panted, feeling yourself on the verge of falling apart.

“Mhm” He cooed into your ear as you recalled your infamous dream.

“Taehyung.” You whispered, faintly noticing the condensation of your breath in the air as you spoke his name. His answering ministrations had you rigorously falling apart on his fingers and his wet cock.

“Good girl.” He purred, sounding impossibly distant. Once your orgasm hit it never left as you laid on the bed in a pile of useless limbs. A feeling of drowsiness washed over you, yet you remained acutely aware of him talking to you, his deep voice sounding inside your own head. You were too lethargic to panic, instead, humming peacefully as he continued speaking. You’d never get enough of that sultry voice you had grown to love so much. ”It’s a shame, truly. I would’ve loved to enjoy this at least a few more times. But alas, I can’t help myself.” You shivered in the cold of the room, finding it odd that him spooning you brought no comfort to you. However, you didn’t have to endure for long. As Taehyung plunged his growing fangs into the crook of your neck, a blazing heat that originated from the puncture spread outwards, engulfing your body in a comforting blanket of warmth. “I have to punish those who’ve done bad things, and as sweet and beautiful as you are, you, unfortunately my dear, are one of them.” Suddenly, an array of criminals you had helped years ago began playing in your mind like a slideshow. “It was a pleasure erasing that wretched boy from this plane of existence, but I can’t help but feel sad at your departure, my dear.” You moaned weakly at the feeling of being drained. Taehyung sucked on your neck one last time before removing his mouth from your skin with a pop. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his obsidian irises expanding until they covered the entirety of his eyes. “I just want you to know,” He caressed your stiff cheek thoughtfully, “you were my favorite, okay?” You could barely muster an acknowledgement of his adieu, the timbre of his voice lulling you further into a deep sleep from which you’d never awaken from.

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