#this sounds depressing but i swear i'm not depressed i'm just like. accepting this is never happening so i can stop being disappointed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violetmina · 2 months

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Chokehold - Ch. 11

Chokehold Masterlist

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Taglist: @roundroald @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @sexytholland @scraftsku35 @avastrasposts @missihart23 @ladyvillainous @elementress44 @haibara-ai-tsii @123passwort @sanscas @lulzbrokenbyfantasy @icantevenchoose @marksassybanana @a-rogue-tiddy-bot @itsyellow @lmarina2000 @d3adite666 @casualfansoul @missrandomheart @cvstle @elianamarie-blog @1970sbitch @depressed-but-make-it-cute @loversjoy @raktajinoaddict @trisaratops-mcgee

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,623

Warning: Swearing, adult themes, sexual tension and...well, Butcher.

A/N: I'm back~! Its finally here! After several months, the next chapter of this series! I promised that I would not abandon it, and I meant it. If it feels off in any way, I do apologize. And many thanks to all of you for your support and your patience. If I forgot anyone that wanted to be on the taglist, please let me know asap so I can fix it.

Two things ripped you from sleep that morning. The first was your final alarm blaring from the coffee table. The second was the abrupt awareness of a particular body missing behind you. The combination of the two had your muscles spasming into a flailing upright position, immediately revealing a slight kink in your neck as your brain tried to catch up. Your fingers fumble and flutter over the table in search of the obnoxious sound coming from your phone. Just as your hand starts to slap against the wood in groggy frustration, your eyes just make out a different set of fingers.

“Billy?” It comes out cracked and garbled from sleep.

The alarm dies quickly under his fingers and the blur in your vision shifts in time to bring him into focus, kneeling before you beside the couch. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets you with that crooked smile. “Gotta tell ya, I hear that alarm again, I'm throwing your fucking phone through the wall.”

“You -ah!” You wince as your neck twinges sharp at your attempt to swing your legs to the floor.

“Yeah, your couch did the same number on me,” he mutters. He slips his fingers to your nape, rubbing the smallest of circles there, just on the new knot. It's brief, his hand withdrawing before you can even sink into it, reaching back to bring forward a cup of coffee.

“Here. Can't send you off to Hughie with bags like that under your eyes.”

You give your thanks, taking a long draw before turning back to him. “Speaking of not looking so good, what about-?”

“Nuh-uh.” He wags back a finger at you as he stands to head out of the living room. “We had a deal. You're done playing nurse.”

You roll your eyes, knowing full well you're not going to argue with this mule. Butcher appears unfazed from the previous night's events, strutting in your apartment as his usual. The only outward indication of his escapade was the faintest peek of the liquid stitches on his head and the missing Hawaiian atrocity the blue t-shirt replaced. A very good looking replacement if anyone bothered for your opinion. But bravado and machismo are not enough to throw off what you already know - he was probably bluffing.

Taking a full gulp of coffee, you shuffle behind him towards your kitchen. The pizza box sits empty and abandoned on your counter. But next to it Butcher rifles through an unfamiliar bag, pulling out to-go boxes.

“You brought me breakfast in bed?,” you ask, smirk tight against the rim of your mug.

“Breakfast on couch,” Butcher replies without missing a beat, sliding warm styrofoam towards you before hooking a palm onto your hip. “Since ya made such a point of avoiding your bed.”

“Actually it was you making a point of avoiding my bed. You did say you wouldn't go near it if I wasn't in it, did you not?”

“Awfully cheeky for just starting that coffee.” He pushes away from the counter and pulls you in as you shrug in response. “And we could remedy that in a hurry, yeah? Being in your bed, I mean.”

“I, on the other hand,” you continue, bluntly brushing off the reply, “was avoiding sinful acts so as not to kill you.”

“Not a bad way to go, innit?” Butcher manages to wrap his arm around your back without sloshing your morning brew over either of you.

“Maybe not. But I'd hate to traumatize the others with the vivid details of what you look like naked,” you grin.

“Fuck off,” he hums before hushing you with a kiss. Then, purring into your ear, “You still haven't answered me…Your bed?”

Butcher doesn't give you much of a chance to respond. Not verbally that is. He kisses you again, longer, firmer. Warm steadily turning to hot, a slow delicious simmer. Your free hand slips along his side, just hitching under the hem to brush skin, and you can't remember this shirt feeling this soft. But you're not going to forget now.

Until he gives you something else to remember.

Butcher's grip on your hip grows firmer, and when you part your lips in invitation, his response is no different than how he handles much else - he does not hesitate. He delves to taste and you're quickly preoccupied with his own, enough to kiss back with more fervor. He nips your bottom lip and you know it's still not safe for him, not really. The concussion is still a danger…but you feel your bed pull at you like his fingers starting to tug at your jeans.

Until his phone buzzes loudly in his pocket.

“Billy…”

He shakes his head, whiskers whispering against your face. “It's nuthin’,” he breathes between kisses. “So? This a yes, lov-”

Another buzz.

You catch his wrist as he rips the cell from his pocket, barely saving the offensive thing from a warp speed trip across your apartment. When yours buzzes too on the other side of the room, the noise that rumbles out of him makes you bite your lip. He leans back from you snarling to the roof, “Fuckin’ cockblocks every fuckin’ one of ‘em!”

“That confident were you?” It comes out just a tad breathless.

He stabs a brief glare at you with a snort before finally looking over the interrupting notification. “Surprise, surprise. Hughie.”

“What did he say?”

“New orders, new case. And a little under the table meeting. Same bullshit,” Butcher grumbles. “I'm sure yours is near identical.” He looks up at you, some of the frustration leaving his face to give you a hint of a smile. “All things considered, I'm guessing you'd like me to let him know we'll be each other's plus one to the meeting?”

Butcher gives a little wink before you place your hand over his phone. His hint of humor falters when he sees you staring with furrowed brow at the text message waiting to be answered.

“...No.”

His face mirrors yours. “No? No what?”

You look up at him, shaking your head.

He stares for only a second. Then, “Ah, I get it. I'm your new dirty secret, eh? That it?”

“No,” you reply louder, more abrupt. Had that been the tiniest edge on his playful tone? You look up at him, shaking your head. “I didn't mean that. You're not that. I mean I don't know what you - we-!”

Something twitches in his face at ‘we’, something that makes part of you flinch, and you take a breath before speaking. “What I meant,” you answer slowly, “is that we shouldn't say anything just yet. Not to the others. I don't want anyone thinking that I didn't earn my place here, pull my weight. Especially Hughie.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“He's already shown me once how quickly he can change his mind, even more so when it comes to me doing field work. I hope I won't need you to speak to him on my behalf. But if I do, how much will your word weigh to him if he thinks it's only because we're past being friends…coworkers…what have you…”

You trail off on that thought, cutting back to the point. “Anyway, more importantly, we've got a big mission here. And I think it would be best if the team has no questions or doubts about where everybody's heads are at. No distractions. Right?”

Butcher gives a slow nod as your words sink in. “That'd be the thing they'd do wouldn't it?” Then with a humorless laugh, “Like they don't question me, bust my balls enough already. And Hughie!” He makes a tsking sound. “Yeah, none of that. We'll deal with this Persuasion business proper first.”

He nods and makes a quick reply to Hughie before sliding his cell back into his pocket. “I best get a move on, meet up with MM while it's still early. And you best get your ass in gear. You need to keep an eye on the congresswoman.”

Butcher smirks as he shrugs on his coat. “Real shame,” he drawls, giving you a long, parting kiss before beginning to back to your door. “Still wouldn't have minded breaking your bed.”

“Could've died,” you sing-song at him.

“Sounds like a good way to go.”

“Sounds like you're trying to tell me you wouldn't be worth a second round,” you tease.

Butcher shakes his head, a dark, heavy look rolling in his eyes at your sass. “When did I ever say it’d take only one round?” He pauses in your door. “That's a shame, love. I thought you knew me better than that.”

With a smirk your way and a glance over your apartment, he closes the door. You let out a sigh somewhere between relief and disappointment, picking at your to-go box as you remember the coffee somehow still in your hand. “Not yet,” you smile in response to his parting words.

As you eat the breakfast Butcher had delivered, you did your best to focus on the little spark of excitement in you, and ignore the last look he'd given your apartment. Ignore the sharp flicker he'd given the windows.

^^^

“We got one!”

You nearly jump as a news article slaps onto your desk. Hughie beams down at you, almost smug before sliding it closer to you. “Got one?”

“A supe. That fungi one, what's-his-face -”

“Cordycep?”

“Yep,” Hughie grins. “The asshole who was caught spraying those spores everywhere to hypnotize people. His case finally went to the judge. And the judge threw the book at him.”

You skim over the article as he leans against your cubicle wall, clearly pleased. “You're not kidding. Found guilty of all twenty-six counts of fraud, identity and grand theft, and forgery.”

“Every single one,” he says. “A long sentence. And no chance of parole at this time, or bail. We did that. We did that!”

You suppress a laugh as he takes back the article with a fist in the air. “That's kinda the point, isn't it? That's why the bureau exists.”

“I don't mean the bureau. I mean us,” he replies. Then he continues with earnest, “I know that the team has been kinda frustrated lately. We covered this case, and several like it, and it feels like we've been trying to climb shit mountain every time. But this shows that it's working. We're making a difference. And we didn't have to scrub blood out of our clothes to do it.”

“This time,” you emphasize. “We didn't have to this time. Forgive me for raining on your parade a little. But let's keep a little pragmatism here. Cordycep was a push over. Most of the supes aren't.”

He waves you off but you still notice the slight slump in his shoulders. “Whatever. Point is that we are making a little progress.”

You feel a twinge of guilt for being a bit of a realist on him. But despite that, part of you wants to celebrate with him. There has been progress for both the Boys and the bureau. Slow, grinding, frustrating progress. But still progress. Although, if Butcher were the one to measure, you would be found short today. You hadn't been able to keep an eye on Neuman as intended. Even those at work had only seen her in passing glimpses by her office.

With that in mind, you lower your voice just slightly. “Speaking of progress, are we still going over reports tonight with the team? That quarterly thing?”

Hughie nods as he straightens a little, eyes scanning for the congresswoman. “Yep. Right. Quarterly reports. Gotta make sure we're within budget and all that.”

“And are Annie and I still on for girls night?,” you ask, absently shuffling through some files. Not like you care what they are.

“Yes. Actually she hinted that she might - might - be able to stop by tonight. You know, say hello. Iron out some stuff for your upcoming bonding time.”

That certainly puts a little edge in you. You'd be lying to yourself if you thought you weren't hesitant about how the meeting would go. Yes, the whole mission and its variables were certainly part of that. But so was the fact that you now had to keep pretending like nothing was going on between you and Butcher, jiu jitsu or otherwise. Throw in the ever looming threat of Neuman's shadow, and the mutual disdain to put it politely between Annie and Butcher…

“That sounds great,” you smile wanely. “Is everybody else in on that particular detail?”

“Butcher knows,” Hughie deadpans.

“And how many new expletives did you learn from him after telling him?”

“None. Not yet, I mean. He's probably composing a whole list to shove down my throat after the meeting as we speak.”

“Wrapped with a C4 wire bow, I'm sure,” you smirk at him. You slap three files into his chest. “Here. You'll need those for tonight.”

He glares at the manila as if it's offended him while he thumbs the pages. “The hell is this?”

“Budget reports.” Your expression goes flat when his remains confused. “Neuman would want you to have those for the meeting…?”

A beat passes before you see the light bulb come on. “Oh,” he smiles sheepishly. “Riiight. Need those.”

“...How the hell are you my boss again?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles before pushing away from your cubicle to avoid the return of your smirk. Before he dips out of sight he peeps around the corner one more time. “Oh, by the way…”

“Yeah?”

Hughie spares a genuine smile. “I just wanted to let you know that, uh…I'm glad you're working again. You're kicking ass already.”

Fondness fills your chest and you return the smile before he jokingly barks an order to “kick those papers asses!”, and heads further into the bureau. You sigh at the small mountain of work on your desk before dragging a file towards you.

Kicking more ass than you know, Hughie. Just you wait.

^^^

Homelander's too-piercing blue eyes stare at you through a thin veil of false contrition as you stare back from your seat in the Flatiron. The act is thinner than a blade's edge, and you're grateful for the filter of the LCD screen and a brown-nosed interviewer hired by Vought between you - and everyone this side of the screen - and the supe. It's the second time you've seen it air today, but it still irks as bad as the first time as Homelander lays his woes and regret about Stormfront for the first time publicly since she'd been “apprehended”.

“Fuck him,” Frenchie mutters, snapping your attention away from the TV and back to the crew. He snaps off the TV just as viciously. “And fuck that nazi bitch, whatever is left of her.”

“Can we focus?,” MM asks at his desk, his fingertips burrowing deep in his temples. “We got a lot to cover and very little time to do it.”

Hughie heaves a sigh and nods, looking at each of those present to recollect the room as he stands in the center of it. “He's right. We gotta crunch these last numbers. I'll make it quick. Let's see…MM is good on the books. You submitted that last bit of papers for that druid-wannabe supe, right?”

“Yes. Ready for you to hand off to your attorneys.”

Hughie flashes a thumbs up before turning to the seats near your desk. “Cool. Frenchie, Kimiko. Looks like I just need that last budgeting sheet for…is this a flamethrower? This looks suspiciously like a flamethro- why?”

Kimiko signs before Frenchie grins, “Research purposes.”

You hold back a snicker as Hughie presses on. “Fuck, fine, whatever. Mallory can deal with that, I guess. So that just leaves-”

“Yours truly.” Butcher's chair creaks next to you at his desk, opposite side of Kimiko, as he swivels slowly with a bit of impatience. “It's all there, mate. Double checked the numbers me self.”

“All of it?,” Hughie presses. “Your ammo and armory form was off a couple digits last month.”

“Yep. Even corrected the pornhub subscription cost on the miscellaneous page.”

“Okay, okay. That was lovely news,” Hughie grimaces as everyone else shares a chuckle. “Bleaching that from my mind and moving on. Budgeting is done. Now for the real meeting.” He glances back and forth between Butcher and MM. “Any new leads on Persuasion or Walsh?”

“Only that Walsh is hiring third party goons to try to keep Vought from crawling up his ass. Ambushed me at the club the girl talked about,” Butcher shrugs. “Patched myself up away from the hospitals, so we don't have any tails there.”

Your mind slips into the memory of your fingers running through Butcher's damp locks. It hazes briefly at the memory of calloused hands and warm lips before you remind yourself that there's a reason you and Butcher are not sitting directly next to each other right now.

“I found two other cases from the same night,” MM cuts in. “One male and one female victim, not as lucky as our first. They were from different sides of town. Vought got to them long before me though. But from what I could gather, the situations are uncannily similar. If this is a test run, this drug is going to spread fast.”

“No faster than what Walsh will allow, you mean,” Hughie interjects. “He still has to keep ahead and under Vought’s radar.”

“Any clues what it's for?,” you ask.

“I have less leads than them,” Frenchie replies, rubbing the back of his head in agitation. “After what happened with the last sample, I've had to take the experiments a little slow.”

Hughie shakes his head. “Not gonna lie, that's not great news for our timeline before the gala. How are we coming on that?”

Frenchie perks up a bit. “That I do have good news. My surveillance equipment should be here within a few days. But I will need to know where in the gala we are playing our roles. I need just a little time to make any necessary changes to it.”

Butcher gestures around the room. “So? Where do you lot all wanna be?”

There's the crackle of paper as Frenchie smooths out the schematics splayed out on his desk, Kimiko and MM leaning to peer behind him. “We all start at the top and work down, right?,” MM begins. “Fifteen floors down. We should stack. Nobody more than one floor apart from each other. So I'll take fourteen and every third floor on.”

Hughie starts ticking off fingers. “So that means…”

“Means MM,” Butcher says, rising from his desk to stride to view the schematics, “will take fourteen, eleven, eight, five, and two. The love birds have to split what's left, and they all converge in the sublevels.”

Kimiko types rapidly into her phone before showing the display to everyone. I want to be closest to either of them if they need backup, it reads. I'll take thirteen down.

“I guess that leaves me with levels divisible by three,” Frenchie shrugs.

“What kind of modifications are you thinking?,” you ask him.

“Mostly wardrobe, so I know how to disguise your surveillance gear.”

Kimiko and Hughie smile, confusing you until you hear a voice behind you pipe up, “I guess I snuck out at the right time then.”

All eyes turn and you find Annie coming into the office. While you feel Butcher's not-so-welcoming smirk bloom from his spot, you and Kimiko each greet her with a warm hug before she greets Hughie the same with a kiss tagged on. “I'm guessing this isn't the budget report we're talking about?,” she asks the room.

“We could go back to that,” Butcher grins. “Being the altruistic soul you are, Starlight, I'm sure you'd be more than happy to make a generous donation to our cause, no? And using that Seven member payroll to stick it to Vought?” He lets out a low whistle. “It'd be poetry.”

“Tempting,” she responds tersely. “But even my money is micromanaged. Getting my charity for at-risk youth off the ground has been like pulling teeth, even with all the good PR Vought is expecting. And the last thing all of you need is for Vought to be sniffing further into my ‘donations’. Don't you think?”

“If you're a stingy bitch, you can just say that.”

“Okay!” Hughie quickly cuts in, placing his thin frame in the direct heat of their glaring. You're surprised he doesn't melt like butter in the thick of it. “Let's remember we're all on the same side here. We'll give you ladies a chance to talk over things while we, uh, find the best place to put our surveillance team.”

“I won't keep her long. The less I know, probably the better. At least in this case.” Annie gives Butcher one more pointed glare before shuffling you off a few paces. “It's been awhile since he's worn a shirt that didn't look like he stole it from a Miami retirement home,” she grumbles.

Oh, you had definitely noticed. He was still wearing the blue shirt from your closet, and Hughie had made a similar comment when he had walked into the Flatiron. Butcher merely brushed it off with something about laundry day. Thwarting away the image of what lay beneath said shirt, all stretched out on your couch, you asked, “We're still on tomorrow then?”

“Yes. I know a guy from my Christ for Capes days, his name is Torsten. He doesn't work for Vought but a lot of his clientele have been supes. He's got a hole in the wall for a shop in Manhattan. He can definitely tailor something for what you need.”

She glances at Hughie, who is preoccupied arguing with Butcher that no, they can't park the van in the goddamn venue lobby. Then says, “I get wanting to wear something you can fight in. But can you? Not saying you don't know how to take care of yourself. I'm just hoping you're going to have enough time to learn what you need.”

You wave at the team as MM seems to get them back on track over the schematics. “If there's anybody that can get me ready with this kind of time crunch, it's these guys. Right?”

Her eyes crinkle as she looks over each of them. “I mean…kinda? A little. I don't think their insurance would agree, but...”

“Says the one who can take a bullet to the chest,” you jibe back.

“Well I don't know what the hell they'll teach you. But we'll get you fitted for it.”

The idea of pitching Annie to supplement your training flits in your brain. What better way to learn than from the one friendly supe in your corner? But immediately you reject it. Annie is already under constant suspicion from the Seven, Homelander most of all. Not to mention what little spare time she has is just that - very little. And again, would she be able to hide your training from Hughie till the right time? Especially if she knew Butcher was involved, in more ways than one?

Not likely, the little voice huffs.

“Hughie told you about meeting at the apartment at 4, right?,” she asks, dragging you from your thoughts.

You nod.

“Okay. We'll meet there, then head to Torsten's. My window will be small though before I have to get back to the tower. So think about what you might like for the gala. He's a damn good tailor but not a miracle worker, and we're calling it pretty tight as is.”

“Sounds good. But one problem. I don't exactly have a budget for a custom fit. And Butcher wasn't completely wrong about needing financing for this.”

Annie shakes her head. “Don't worry about it. Torsten owes me a favor anyway. And it helps me get away from the tower for a time. Which…” She glances at the clock on her phone. “...I am nearly out of myself already.”

“You're not staying?”

“No,” she sighs. “I wanted to get the details to you in person, less risk of our plans being tracked or leaked that way. That and I need to talk to Hughie for a bit. I meant what I said about knowing less. Our resident asshole-”

“Which one?,” you ask in a cheeky tone.

“Our resident asshole,” she continues, “doesn't need any more reason to doubt my intentions. The less I know, the safer all of us will be if shit hits the fan, especially with Vought. Gotta keep my nose clean after the last time I was accused of treason, too.”

“I appreciate your help, Annie.” You glance over at Hughie and Butcher, still mapping out the eventual parking spot of the surveillance van. You notice MM approaching you. “I'll let you talk to your boy toy and see you tomorrow. I have a feeling I'm needed now.”

“That would be correct,” the big man says as he steps up beside you. “We need to start working on your ability to read the room. More like you should've started yesterday. So if you need anything, snacks, restroom break, whatever - now is the time. We're gonna be here late tonight.”

You give Annie another hug before she motions for Hughie to join her for a hushed discussion. You move back towards the others and the venue map with MM. “So what does this entail?”

“Body language is the big one. You use it all the time, you just don't know it. A lot of social cues are given and read more subconsciously. Your role in this depends on it.”

As Hughie and Annie call out a good night, explaining that they needed to headout, Butcher waves them off dismissively and walks towards his desk at the end of the office. “Already we got a snag in your little lesson here, MM. You think four of us is gonna be the same as reading a packed ballroom?”

“No, I think we are her training wheels and that's better than nothing.” There's a hint of exasperation in his tone. You have the distinct impression that Butcher has voiced his charming opinions to the crew on you being their spy for the event. If said impression was right, then at least you knew the crew was on your side.

Frenchie slides across his own desk with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He disappears for a brief second before bobbing back up with a Bluetooth speaker, and begins setting it up with his phone.

MM watches him incredulously, palms up in confusion. “The fuck is he doin’? The fuck you doin’, Frenchie?”

“I am setting up for the lesson. We are teaching her body language cues, the gala is in a ballroom…” He thumbs over his phone screen before beaming at you. “So dancing serves for both, non?”

MM wipes a hand over his face as Kimiko sticks out her hands in invitation to Frenchie. “Oh my god, fucking really?”

“We're working, not fucking about!,” Butcher growls as a song comes on at random. The sound of a howl and three single notes flow out of the speaker, and Frenchie looks at it with doubt. But he shrugs and begins to turn and shuffle about with Kimiko.

You recognize now that his random playlist had chosen “Lil’ Red Riding Hood”. Not something you even expected with all the French rap you usually heard him play. You highly doubt this will be played at the gala either, but you just smile, enjoying the duo's antics as MM vents his frustration.

“As you can see, Kimiko's body language is open. She smiles! She is relaxed!”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Frenchie…”

You nod with thick enthusiasm, ignoring Butcher grumbling. “Yes, yes. I see.”

The duo continue to wheel about in the limited space as the song progresses. “Now notice that both of us have some tension in our shoulders? That is from suppression. Why?”

“Why?,” you play along.

“To not laugh at these two boring fuckers!”

MM flips them both the finger, which they return in kind. After another moment, MM finally steps forward. “Hold on, hold on. Let's at least do this proper. Kimiko? May have your hand?”

They paused, confused. But you catch a glint in MM's eyes and you give her the thumbs up. To Frenchie’s surprise, MM takes her hand, doing his best to maintain proper dance form with the size difference. He makes a “eyes on me” motion at you.

“Watch and learn. If you didn't notice, poor Kimiko's body language was giving all the subtle signs of distress.” He begins to move into a different dance than the awkward shuffle from before. “And why? She needed saving. Because he, and his white ass, ain't got no rhythm, and this is clearly a motherfucking tango!”

“Oh fuck you! You think I can't fucking tango?”

MM sweeps Kimiko further away. “Nah, you don't get her back now. You hijack my lesson, I hijack your dance partner.”

You can't help but laugh as Frenchie stomps after them, apparently offended, and MM dancing just out of reach round the office with Kimiko standing on his toes. After the apprehension you'd had about this meeting, this is a pleasant change of pace. But you know the song is just about over, and there's still work to be done. Not to mention there was still the hardass who definitely would not be dancing.

You tear your eyes from the three cavorting about, ready to catch Butcher scowling across the room. Instead, you catch him taking advantage of the trio's distraction to stare right at you. A small knowing smirk appears as the last verse plays.

Lil’ Red Riding Hood

You sure are looking good

You're everything a big bad wolf could want.

You're hit with the memory of that night at the motel, him staring up at you with that same damn look. Those wolfish eyes. He's being awfully bold, right in front of the others. But was he really anything else?

You are not going to make this easy, are you?, you think.

And in the blink of an eye, it vanishes and he is glowering at the others. Teaching you not to be distracted it would seem. He approaches them as they settle. “Turn the music off, and it stays off,” he snaps. “All she's learned in the last three minutes is how to look like a right wanker in a crowd. Which is exactly what she doesn't fucking need when she's supposed to sneak in, and then sneak the fuck out.”

He snatches Frenchie's phone and tosses it to him. Giving the other two one last huff, he turns to you. “Let's start with identifying when someone has a concealed weapon. Something you'll actually fucking use…”

^^^

Hours later, far later than you had even expected, you sit in Butcher's car, head propped against the cool glass of the window. You had originally hoped that he would insist on a rolling session after the training you'd done with the Boys. Or rather a rolling session and seeing where it would lead. But when Butcher had volunteered to drive you home - before the others could - on the ride in the elevator down, he had informed you that he would be out looking for leads again.

You admit, you were a little disappointed. But turning your head to look at him in the passing lights, you see just a trace of fatigue in the wrinkles by his eyes. A ghost of his concussion. And to be honest, you were still a little haggard from a long day, and the long night before playing Florence Nightingale to his stubborn ass. It was better this way.

That didn't stop him from cursing your fatigue. He peeled his hand off the steering wheel and placed it on your knee, rubbing firm circles there with the pad of his thumb. Just like that night at the motel, whistling low and slow that damn song in the Flatiron, as if in case you weren't remembering it.

You arched one eyebrow at him as he parked at the curb outside your building. He arched one back at you with a devilish look. “What? Something on yer mind, love?”

“Just wondering if I'm going to have to patch you up again tonight.”

“Are you now?” His voice is thick with disbelief. He gives your thigh a warm squeeze. “That all?”

“Yep.” You make sure not to bat an eye. “Not much else to think about tonight.”

“Well in that case…” The seat creaks as he leans in and kisses you. Firm and slow. Like that hand that glides up your thigh. Like the way he presses it against the center seam of your jeans…

And he pulls away just as you inhale sharply. “...In that case, since you got nothing to think about, I'll let you dance on up to bed for the night.” He unbuckles your seat belt for you with a cocky twist of his lip.

Fucker.

“Yeah. Not much to think about.” You make no attempt at hiding the frustration in your tone. You hear Butcher chuckle as you step out of the car.

“Give Tinkerbell my regards tomorrow,” he nods. Then with a wink, “And keep that bed warm in case I need a nurse, yeah? Be seeing you real soon, love.”

He closes the door and peels out into the road. You grit your teeth at how painfully aware you are of exactly how your jeans sit now. But you shake your head with a smile as you watch his taillights shrink. Because something tells you that the reason he peeled out was to keep him from stepping out of that car with you.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys fanfic

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tryingtodotheright-thing · 3 months

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Hello, Sunset - 6

AN: This is my longest chapter to date. I really suck at writing dialogue, which is just my real life awkward self presenting in fiction. I would love to hear what people think about this chapter or just the story in general. Need some inspiration as I'm stuck on the next chapter. The writing gods have left me and there's a metaphorical brick wall between my ideas and the blank Google doc ... PAIRING: Seungcheol x fem!reader GENRE: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst WORD COUNT: 4,650 WARNINGS: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing, mentions of alcohol Text in blue is spoken in Korean.

PREVIOUS / NEXT

1 December 2023 - 6 January 2024

There wasn’t really any time for melancholy, not for Y/N. She wanted to wistfully brood about her 10 days in Asia and play the nostalgic CARAT post concert, but the end of the year was relentless. Y/N travelled back to Tokyo the very next day to catch her flight home to London. She used the weekend to reset her body clock and catch up on her emails before she was back at the office on Monday.

By the time she landed in London, her episode on Amazing Saturday had already aired. She didn’t think the episode would have a huge audience. She had hoped to make an impression on the Korean audience but wasn’t expecting to suddenly be trending on Naver or anything. She had turned off the airplane mode on her phone whilst briskly making her way through the long route from the gate to baggage collection. It was a good thing her phone was silent as suddenly the notifications piled up. She opened up Instagram first as that’s where the most notifications were from and saw that Josua had tagged her on a post.

It was the second time he’d done that since they had met back in September. Then, it had been a picture they had posed together for a magazine at the Marni show. This time, it was a clip of her getting the one shot for getting the most accurate answer for the God of Music quiz. He’d captioned it to say ‘Thank you for answering SVT’s quiz, Y/N’. The post had thousands of likes already, including fellow SEVENTEEN members such as S.Coups, Seungkwan and Vernon. Her followers on Instagram had also increased, she guessed as a natural effect from this interaction. She was following Joshua already so she liked the picture and closed the app, too tired to think about her actions or do anything more.

The click clacks of her heels echoed as she walked the short distance from her cabin to the one of the Global HR Director and her line manager, David. Unlike the confident sounds of her footsteps, Y/N felt timid as she opened the door to his office once he beckoned her to come in through the glass windows of his office. David was not someone to mince his words or beat around the bush, especially as someone as busy and senior as he was in such a huge corporation.

Y/N walked out of his office thirty minutes later with relief. She’d need to talk to Sian and Emma first before she officially accepted his offer but she thought this was the best option for everyone without Y/N having to give up her career in HR completely. Her decision was solidified as she received positive response to her various promotion activities in Korea as they came out on broadcast and YouTube over the next few days. Sian and Emma began to receive interest from Korean shows and entertainment companies. The questions varied from whether she was interested in appearing on more shows to her plans on promoting in Korea and needing a local agency to support her promotions to even writing music for idol groups. Eun Ji was ecstatic at the idea of her living in Seoul and declared that Y/N would live with her. When she ran through her doubts of the move, Joshua reassured her as someone who had taken the same leap. Vernon and Seungkwan, who Y/N kept in touch with regularly since meeting them a few weeks ago, promised to visit her regularly so she wouldn’t be lonely.

By the time her slot at the Jingle Bell Ball was over a week later, Y/N felt fully confident in her decision to resign from her job in the UK and take the consultancy role. It offered her more flexibility whilst still allowing her to keep putting to use the qualification and skills she had developed over the past seven years. Her first focus would be working with regional leads in Japan and South Korea to support the planned restructures and optimise the local operations. She would be assessing the situation, proposing a solution and would oversee the implementation of it when it is accepted but won’t be the person delivering the change. She was actually excited to step out of her comfort zone and expand her experience further by dipping her toes into consultancy whilst putting to use her language skills in another country. It honestly felt like an offer too good to be true. It also gave Y/N time to prepare for her EP release that had been planned for the end of the summer and her European Tour that would kick off in the autumn of 2024. She hoped she would get lots of inspiration to write in the new environment.

Things moved quickly once she accepted David’s offer. A flat in Hannam-dong in Yongsan had been leased under her name by Emma. Whilst her company had offered to organise this for her, she had preferred to find a place that suited her specific needs and had negotiated with David so the company would contribute a fixed amount to the rent instead. David put her negotiation skills to the test but Y/N thought she handled it quite well. She had a decent deal by the end. She spent the next few weeks saying a temporary goodbye to her life in London, catching up with friends in between her end of year performance schedule. She’d gone from the one watching the countdown to NYE on BBC to the one people watched performing as the country counted down to the dawn of a new year. A few days later, she was back on a plane to Incheon, this time on her own. Emma wouldn’t be joining her in Seoul but would be making plenty of visits as needed. W Music had a partner in Seoul who would organise any assistance Y/N needed. Y/N leaned her seat back and gazed out of the window, taking a sip of the red wine the stewardess handed her earlier. She hoped 2024 would be a year to remember.

Current

Y/N had gone to bed immediately after her bath. The fight or flight response in her body had slowly disappeared until all that was left was exhaustion. She had dragged herself from the bathroom to her bedroom, not going through any of her night time routine but falling straight into bed instead. The blackout blinds in her room hid the world from her and equally hid her from the world from her. It was the Bank Holiday Monday so she had allowed herself to lie in and when she checked the digital clock on her bedside table once she arose from her deep slumber, she saw it was close to 11am. She decided it was time to face the world and couldn’t hide any longer.

“Alexa, open the blinds.” The automated blinds came to life and with a soft whirring noise, it let the sunlight into the spacious cream coloured room. Closing her eyes briefly to allow them a relief from the bright rays, she patted around the bed for her phone. When her attempts were fruitless, she sighed in defeat before getting out of bed to look around the room for it. Not seeing it anywhere, she slid her feet onto her soft slippers and moved to the living room. She had success as she found it face up on the sofa. She tapped on the screen to bring it to life but it didn’t work. Letting out a groan, realising the phone had run out of battery, she moved to the kitchen island and planted her phone on top of the wireless charger. Leaving it to collect power so she could turn it on, she used the time to make her morning smoothie.

Ten minutes later, she sat on one of the high stools by her kitchen island with a large glass of avocado and banana smoothie. She turned the phone on, making sure to keep it on the wireless charger. She saw that she had missed calls and clicked on the Phone app to see who had tried to get in touch. Some were older notifications she had dismissed like the missed calls from Sian and Emma. There were also recent missed calls from Rachel, Eun Ji and Joshua. Joshua didn’t normally call so she assumed he was concerned about her non-reply.

As she wondered if it was finally time to grow up and call Joshua, her phone began to ring. It was an unsaved number but Y/N recognised it straight away. It was an incoming call from SEVENTEEN’s main Manager, Shim Jae Hyun. He’d been the first person she’d spoken to after Seungcheol had sent her the text to break up and blocked her number immediately after. Y/N could still remember the pity in his voice as he’d told her that Seungcheol had informed him of the breakup, and had asked that Y/N not contact anyone related to himself. Y/N had responded with a distressed ‘I understand’ and had immediately cut the call.

Since then, she hadn’t spoken to anyone related to Seungcheol, including the members. Some of the members, particularly Vernon and Seungkwan, had tried to speak to her when they became aware of the break up but she’d already blocked them. The only remaining connection was Joshua and even then, she didn’t pick up or answer his calls. They hadn’t spoken since the day before the break up, when Y/N had called him from the airport to confirm she’s boarding and to ask him to check in on Seungcheol. Despite his persistent attempts, Y/N hadn’t spoken to Joshua since that day. He eventually gave up and stopped calling her and would send the occasional texts to see how she was, which she would read but not respond to. Seeing the two ticks to show she was reading it was good enough for him. It’s what he’d pleaded for her to do at the very least.

She assumed Jae Hyun-nim was calling due to the statement that had been published. She let the call go to voicemail and instead took a screenshot with his number displayed and sent it off to Emma and Sian, knowing one of them would contact him. She didn’t want to have a dialogue with PLEDIS or HYBE and Sian had stressed that everything should go through her or Emma. She put the phone back on the charging pad and returned to her room to pack her bag, knowing she had a flight to NYC that evening. Lily, Sian’s first assistant since Emma’s official promotion a year ago, had sent over the flight ticket details as well as some outfit options for Y/N to choose from her various interviews in NYC. Lily would organise it so any of the outfits Y/N selects would be delivered to the JW Marriott Essex House hotel in Upper East Side, where she would be staying this time. Normally, would have a longer visit and so would have gone for one of their long stay apartments but the impromptu plans meant she would be staying in one of Marriott’s hotels instead. The next few hours passed in a blur and Y/N found herself once again on a plane.

25 January 2024

The black Porsche Cayenne lit up as the engine turned on. The car was a Christmas present to herself and she’d be paying it off for the next few years but Y/N was in love. She loved driving and one of the first things she organised was to ship her car to Seoul as soon as she decided on her move and yet, it only arrived a few days ago. Y/N was excited to take the car for a spin, having been taking taxis whenever she needed to leave her flat. She’d spent the first week in Seoul setting up the place whilst staying with Eun Ji and had to then relearn her bearings when she officially moved in. The three weeks since landing in Seoul had been tremendously busy and Y/N was excited to have a night to relax and catch up with a friend. Joshua had returned to the country only a few days ago after wrapping up the last concert of the Follow Tour in Macau. The two had been keeping each other up to date on life but it wasn’t the same as talking in person. Their last meeting hadn’t been the personal catch up they had originally planned for so to have some time together where they could speak more openly was much needed.

Y/N arrived first at the Mexican restaurant in Itaewon and had immediately ordered some nachos for the pair to munch on whilst they caught up and debated what to order. She’d just taken a sip of her virgin Pina Colada when Joshua walked in. Y/N enveloped Joshua in a warm hug, and they stayed in the embrace for a few seconds, soaking in the comfort they gave each other. As they parted, Joshua grasped Y/N’s right hand tightly and shook it in excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re now living in Seoul!”

“Me neither, Joshie!”

He looked at her tenderly before letting go of her hand to ruffle her hair as usual. She’d given up dodging this move, knowing that it was his way of showing affection. She grinned at him, the smile stretching across her face all the way to her eyes which had shrunk to accommodate the happy expression. A waiter arrived with their nachos and the pair took their seats. Joshua ordered a Margarita. They spent the next hour catching up candidly with no inhibitions in between taking sips of their drinks and crunching on the nachos. They’d ordered more drinks and food, Y/N choosing to stay sober as she didn’t trust a stranger to drive her car. It was another thing for her to become accustomed to in time but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Joshua was feeling light, having let off a load from his shoulders. He’d met Y/N at a time when he really needed a friend who was removed from his world but would yet understand his trials. They were less than six months apart in age but often, he felt she was the older one and by many years. Maybe it came from their different life journeys. They’d both had their own challenges to overcome and different demons to fight. She saw him so clearly that he often felt she was his soulmate, like a twin who shared the same heart and mind. Their closeness after such a short period led to misconceptions initially, even from his bandmates. He’d been asked if they were dating, Coups being the latest one to quiz him on this when he’d shared his plans to meet Y/N. Joshua shared this anecdote with Y/N, laughing without restraint at the idea. Y/N looked disgusted at the idea, wondering what was wrong with everyone. She begged Joshua to make sure he set everyone straight.

“Don’t worry, I told him you’re like a sister. Your bias won’t have the wrong idea, so don’t hurt your pea brain worrying.”

She glared at the teasing, huffing at the elder.

“Who’s the pea brain here! I’m not the one who mistranslated that time we were out …”

The banter continued, the two bickering away, fully immersed in their own world. It was nearing 9pm when Joshua received a call.

“Coups-yah. What’s up? Me? I’m in XXX restaurant in Itaewon with Y/N. Oh, you’re nearby?”

Joshua looked at Y/N with a sly smile as he hung up on the phone. Y/N was immediately on alert.

“What have you done, Hong Jisoo?”

“Where are your manners? It’s Jisoo Oppa!”

“Pfft. Manners, my ass. I know you’ve done something that’s about to piss me off. Out with it, Joshie. Don’t test my kindness.”

He shrugged and put on an innocent look, widening his eyes and shaking his head, saying he had no idea what she was talking about. She threw a fry at his face, unfortunately missing the mark widely. This made Joshua crack up in giggles and Y/N reluctantly joined in, unable to hold on to her irritation. Y/N was going to suggest that they call it a night and head home when the bell by the door jingled. Joshua, who was facing the door, stuck his neck out to see who it was and his eyes lit up in recognition. He waved his hand at the newcomer and Y/N twisted in her seat to see who it was. It was S.Coups and with him was Jeonghan.

“Did you miss me that much? You saw me only a few hours ago when we did the Weverse live.”

Joshua said to S.Coups as the 95 liners reunited in front of Y/N. The waitress arrived and relocated them to a bigger table at the back, hiding them away from the rest of the customers. As they all took their new seats, Y/N bowed at Jeonghan and S.Coups and greeted them. She asked after their health and asked if they’d eaten. S.Coups, who was sitting opposite her, nodded whilst Jeonghan responded, “Coups bought me an expensive dinner. I wanted to go home and rest afterwards but this guy-”

Before Jeonghan could finish his sentence, S.Coups began speaking. He asked about her move and if she was properly settled in her flat.

Y/N was surprised he knew the details and it must have shown on her face, as he felt the need to clarify that he’d heard from Shua. When she looked at Joshua, he had a devious smirk on his face.

“I didn’t know you paid so much attention to what I say, Coups-yah. Jeonghan-ah, did you know Coups paid this much attention to me?”

Jeonghan, who suddenly looked wide awake, seemed to have caught on to whatever track Joshua was on and enthusiastically exclaimed, “I didn’t know either, Joshuji. I don’t remember you telling us about Y/N’s move and this is my first time seeing you since you came back.”

Turning to his left, he questioned when S.Coups had heard the news. Y/N was a little perplexed about this entire conversation. She didn’t understand why it was such a big deal but she did realise that the angel, who was really a devil in disguise when he was up to his tricks, and his best friend were on the same page and up to something. It seemed that S.Coups had also sensed the danger and looked panic for a second before saying that it might have been Vernon who mentioned it, he couldn’t remember.

Feeling sorry for the man in front of her as he pouted, she decided to answer his question to move the conversation along.

“I’ve just about settled in and I was saying to Josh earlier that my car finally arrived so I feel like I’m finally set. I’m about to abandon all of it for two weeks though. I’ll be in Japan travelling to Tokyo, Sapporo and Okinawa for work from Monday onwards.”

S.Coups nodded again at her and gave her a thousand watts thankful smile. Y/N felt her heart stutter like her old car used to whenever she’d try to speed and the sem-automatic would whine as it stayed stuck in the lower gear. His smile was too blinding and Y/N had to avert her gaze to her glass, fiddling with the stem of it as she tried her best to calm the flutters.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you were flying out so soon! We’re on holiday for the next few weeks so I thought I could show you all my favourite places.”

Joshua was disappointed at the missed opportunity. Y/N reassured him they had plenty of time and that she’d be back on the 10th. The group enjoyed a few more drinks and Y/N slowly loosened up as she got used to the presence of the others. She didn’t see Joshua as a member of SEVENTEEN on most days. To her, he’d become family and so she didn’t get the nervousness that she got in the presence of the rest of the members. Yoon Jeonghan was too beautiful to be real and it was intimidating.

And then there was S.Coups. Well, no explanation was really needed here. This was someone she admired and found attractive. It was just a celebrity crush, she’d thought. Although she had her head screwed on and knew what she saw wasn’t a full picture of any celebrity, with S.Coups, so much of it was real. She’d gotten to know him through Joshua and the couple of interactions they did have, she’d felt sparks. She knew it was all one-sided and with time, she’d get over it. But right now, she couldn’t be sensible about it. It was the way he would stare deeply into her eyes when she spoke giving his full attention, or the way he’d poured her a glass of water when he noticed her glass was empty, or even how the corners of his mouth would twitch in amusement whenever he caught her sneaking glances at him as Jeonghan told a funny story. She was deeply attracted to the man in front of her. His tight black t-shirt and rich perfume pulled her in. When she caught herself leaning forward one too many times, she knew it was time to go home. She pulled the typical I’m-going-to-freshen-up-but-really-pay-the-bill act and found herself scolded by a whiny Joshua as they all walked her to her car.

She saw the tired, droopy frame of Jeonghan and told them all to get in, saying she’d drop them off. They tried to refuse the offer but Jeonghan must have been really tired because he got in quickly after thanking Y/N. Joshua sat upfront and inputted the address for the dorm.

“Coups-yah, are you going to stay at the dorm tonight?”

It took a beat for S.Coups to answer and the others realised he’d wanted to return to the place he shared with his brother. He said he’d call a taxi from the dorm.

“I can drop you off, I really don’t mind.”

Y/N turned into the apartment complex that housed SEVENTEEN members. Joshua and Jeonghan got out of the car and S.Coups followed. He seemed to have a non-verbal conversation with Joshua before he turned back to Y/N and asked if she was sure. She nodded and smiled gently in response.

He lightly hugged the members goodnight before getting back in the car, this time in the front seat. Joshua called out for her to text him when she got home safely and then headed in.

“And then there were two.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a phrase in English that people would usually say when a big group would suddenly get smaller.”

She explained as she manoeuvred out of her parking spot. She pulled off and started driving towards the main road as S.Coups set the navigation to direct her to his brother’s place. It was a 20 minute drive and Y/N told herself she can behave for that long. They drove in silence that had started off comfortable but soon became filled with tension till it was stifling. She cleared her throat and suggested that S.Coups put on music if he’d like.

“You can turn on the radio or you can use my Spotify. My phone is connected via Bluetooth.”

She quickly unlocked it with her fingerprint and gestured for him to take it. He’d looked slightly stunned at her nonchalance as she gave him access to her phone. He timidly took the phone from the stand it was resting on and scrolled through the app. In the meantime, it began to play from where she’d left off earlier. Red Velvet described the throes of a crush and the longing to greet them again through the song ‘Hello, Sunset’ and Y/N blushed as she listened on. How fitting that this is the song that plays, she thought. She saw him tap along to the music as he scrolled through her phone. Their journey was elongating thanks to the traffic that was building up as the Saturday night deepened. As the song drew to a close, he tapped on the song he’d searched for and Dino’s voice blasted through the speakers. How cute, she thought as she realised he’d chosen to listen to the maknae’s mixtape, ‘Wait’. He bobbed his head along as they listened. The car had come to a standstill in front of the traffic.

“I really love this song.”

“Yes, maknae did a good job.” The pride in his voice was clear. She hummed in agreement.

“I’m sorry. Because of me, you’re delayed.”

He apologised suddenly and Y/N found herself lost in his intense stare again when she'd looked at him to respond. She inaudibly mumbled that it wasn’t a problem and that she’s going the same way. It was as if her ears had popped, all noise surrounding them dampened whilst the sound of her heartbeat grew thunderous. She couldn’t even blink, worried he’d disappear if she closed her eyes for a second. He lowered his eyes, breaking the hold on her briefly as they dipped down to her lips before returning to arrest her again. He held her breath as a prisoner. Was she imagining it or was the distance between them slowly narrowing? She had no thoughts. Her brain simply wasn’t functioning to think if this was a good idea or not. Their noses were nearly brushing when they jumped apart when the car behind honked its horn. Y/N realised the queue had eased and quickly put the car in motion. S.Coups turned to look outside the side window, his expression hidden from Y/N when she tried to take a glimpse.

They arrived at S.Coups’ place a few minutes later. Tablo’s version of ‘Eyes, Nose, Lips’ played in the background as both occupants of the car stalled, not sure whether to mention the moment shared earlier. In the end, both had decided to ignore it. S.Coups thanked Y/N for the lift. He’d gotten out of the car and walked around to her side, leaning down to speak to her. A breeze sent her a whiff of his perfume again.

“Well … thanks again.” Y/N smiled but didn’t say anything.

“I should get going. I mean, you should get going. It’s late.”

She nodded and bowed at him to take leave from the driver’s seat. She was about to roll up her windows when he called her name. With no formalities. The butterflies instantly multiplied.

“Y/N. Text me to say you’ve made it home?” It was a question but it wasn’t. She nodded, slowly then quickly.

“I saved my number on your phone. I, uh, I didn’t send myself your number.”

Who was this shy man? Was he the same person with the deep voice and passionate eyes?

“Sleep well.”

Y/N placed her keys in the enamel dish by the entrance, took off her boots and walked to her room. She texted Joshua to confirm she’d made it and wished him a goodnight. She paused for a second before she searched through her contacts. She found the newly saved number under Coups.

Saturday 27 January Hi, it’s Y/N. I made it home safely. Have a good night. 23:20 Goodnight. 23:21

A week later, Y/N was getting ready for her first date with S.Coups.

#caratsland #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #s.coups #seungcheol x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt #svt x reader #svt imagines #s.coups x reader #s.coups imagines #s.coups scenarios #choi seungcheol #my writing #hello sunset

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jilixthinker · 6 months

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embryos

☆ MASTERLIST ☆

PART 1 PART 2

pairing: felix × jisung

genre: angst, supernatural, smut

summary: "purity. those who possess it can have the access. it's like a key. only the pure souls who die in your world can enter in mine. the only requirement is a body. flesh in exchange for the eternal sun".

word count: 5.5 K (in part 1)

content warning: depression, death, mentions of suicide, pain and sufference, parallel universes, smut, jisung and felix are so in love it hurts, eventual happy ending

a/c: i wrote this a few years ago and never finished it, but i cared so much about the idea itself that i forced myself back to finally put an end to it. i still don't know how many chapters i will divide this into, but i guess it will be 3/4 maximum. please, enjoy it at least half as much as i did ♡

I have never been a diamond. For as long as I can remember, I have always sided with the useless. Many have tried to make me face who I am, and still, the only thing I could see were black eyes and no intention to exist. Even after years, when I look in the mirror, my image continues to show me something I do not recognize as myself. I never wanted to shine, I was always at the bottom of a hole. Never a diamond, just a lightless opal. Strings pulling a puppet without someone to maneuver it. A reflection.

Jisung wakes up the way incongruents do. He opens his eyes, blinks twice, maybe three times. As the light overbearingly invades the room, he curses and swears at everything around him. If he knew more than one language he would probably curse in that one too. He throws his legs off the bed and slowly stretches them. He arches his back like a cat and feels his vertebrae snap as if they were moving away from each other.

The first foot on the icy floor is traumatic, as always, and the second is certainly no better. With shuffling steps he makes his way to the window, the cause and fault of all that light, and behind the wide-open sashes he finds a busy Seoul, more alive than ever. Jisung snorts contritely and pulls the small rope that holds the blinds up. Only when the room stagnates in a lazy half-light, he lets out a sigh of relief. He takes two steps toward the mattress and for a few seconds he thinks about throwing himself back on it, fuck all commitments, classes, university, and fuck his phone that just decided to ring.

Groping around, with his eyes still half-closed, he slips an arm under his pillow and looks for the cause of all that noise. He brushes against the cover of his cell phone, which slides a few inches forward, slipping from his fingers. Oh, that's perfect. Thank you. When he finally manages to grab it, he unlocks the call without even looking at the screen.

"No".

From the other line he ears a grunt and a cough, then an overly deep voice.

"No, what?"

Jisung rolls his eyes and sits on his bed, crossing his ankles and shaking his head.

"Minho?"

"No, your majesty the queen. I won't take a no as an answer from anyone, especially not from you".

More noises in the background. Jisung thinks he hears a slap, another grunt, and the squelching sound of a kiss.

"Jisung? Sorry, that animal took my phone from my hands while you were answering me".

Another voice, much more graceful and alert than the previous one, rings inside his ear. Jisung barely pulls the device away while looking up.

"Do we want to continue with all this whining or are you going to tell me why you called me? I'm quite busy".

"Busy? Are you jacking off? Anyway, I heard you answering no. And you know I don't accept a no as an answer from anyone, especially from..."

Jisung stands up from his bed and stumbles over a slipper. Not that balance has ever been his best quality.

"Did you and your boyfriend decided to talk the same way to irritate me endlessly? Because you always do it without even trying, just for you to know".

The voice squeaks in a distinctly offended tone, and Jisung can imagine his interlocutor's lips curving into a grimace.

"Han Jisung, if you don't get your ass out your house and get ready in twenty minutes, I swear to God I will set fire to your life and everything I can find in it. You cannot miss another class. That is mandatory".

The sound of the closed signal wakes Jisung up from the morning fog. He runs a hand over his sweaty face and, with the phone still wedged between his shoulder and head, he whispers.

"Good morning to you, Chan".

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

After twenty minutes and many other curses, Jisung is standing outside of his elegant building. His lace-up shoes, combed hair, and an off-white shirt shine as if lit by stage spotlights. He glances at the expensive watch he wears on his wrist and he thinks that, if impressions were always right, then he would be a spoiled daddy's boy with a beautiful girlfriend and a perfect life. Instead, he reflects bitterly as Chan's car pulls up in front of him, he is a daddy's boy who hates his privileged status, with no one beside him and a nuclear explosion always about to burst his brain. But there is no need to worry. Impressions are everything.

"You have awful dark circles".

Jisung slips into the back seat of Chan's expensive car. He tosses his shoulder strap and smiles sarcastically at Minho.

"I wouldn't worry about other people's dark circles with an ugly face like yours".

Minho bursts out laughing, slowly driving back into the lane. Jisung leans toward the seat in front of his, hugging the backrest.

"Someday you will explain to me why you always let him drive your car".

Chan turns to look at him and pinches his nose. He does this on purpose to make him nervous because he knows how much Jisung despites physical contact.

"Because I can recognize my limits, unlike you. And don't try to deflect the topic. You missed a week of classes, the professors were starting to get impatient, and I couldn't take notes for the three of us. Can you explain what the fuck were you doing?"

Jisung shakes off his best friend with a vacant stare.

"The three of us?" He asks, sidestepping the question.

"You know that this animal", Chan reaches out to point at Minho "does everything but paying attention. However, an answer would be more than welcome".

Jisung huffs and crosses his legs against the seat in front of him. He does not want to answer. He has no reason to justify his absence from classes. He did absolutely nothing during that week. He procrastinated everything that could be done, ate very little and showered even less. He spent all his time lying on his huge bed in his huge house, alone, looking at the ceiling and thinking about how his life was going in a completely unfamiliar and negative direction. Starting with the university that had been chosen by someone else, his house that had been delivered to him already furnished, and all the relationships that he had that now seemed false, distant, and unattainable. Jisung felt like his essence was been split against his will and another person was living his life. His real self was behind a mirror, imprisoned and motionless, watching him silently, without uttering a word.

He closes his eyes and presses his fingers to the junction of his nose.

"I had a fever, I couldn't get up".

Chan sighs. He doesn't believe him for a moment, but insisting with Jisung is like yelling to a mountain to get up and walk.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Minho pulls over near the curb to let Jisung and Chan off. He said that he will not join them. He has an interview with a colleague of his parents who may decide to take him as an intern. Chan places a kiss on his boyfriend's lips. A kiss that, according to Jisung, lasts a little too long considering they are not alone, and then he runs into the cafeteria next to the university to get them two iced americanos. Jisung picks up his briefcase and smooths out the creases on his blue cigarette pants.

"You are not well".

Minho is looking at him as people may look at an underfed dog on the side of the road.

"Why do I feel like this is not a question?"

Jisung gets out of the car and closes the door, then walks over to stand next by the other boy and he scrutinizes him for a few seconds. Minho works as a model, it's inevitable for him to be attractive. He has muscular legs, fair skin, and big eyes. But Jisung knows that's not the reason he was hired. The truth is that Minho knows exactly what he wants, from everything. From his job, from his relationship, from life. He has a very strong determination that is impossible not to notice in his gaze.

Jisung instead, and he turns around to look at his image in the rearview mirror, has the gaze of someone who does not even want to be noticed.

"It wasn't. It was an observation".

"I don't need any help".

"I know. You and I are the same".

Jisung bursts out laughing, his laugh drained of any sort of amusement.

"You and I have nothing in common, for your luck".

Minho smiles at him accommodatingly as he places one hand on the steering wheel and one on the gear. Jisung steps out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

He looks at his reflection on Chan’s shiny red car. He can barely recognize the lips he was so proud of, even if it’s ridiculous to think about it now that it seems like centuries have passed. They are a lurid, wispy copy of what they used to be. He has absolutely no recollection of how long it has been since he last kissed someone with that mouth. There is not a single time he can look at himself without a sense of nausea pervading him from head to toe and forcing him to look away immediately. Despite his best efforts, however, his image haunts him wherever he goes and whatever he does.

A rather violent push wakes him up from his thoughts. Minho is still in front of him, huffing because the light is still red and preventing him from moving forward. Jisung turns his head to see where the push came from. He catches a glimpse of the back of a boy who is quickly walking away.

"Hey!"

He yells at him loudly enough so that the latter can hear him above the infernal noise of the traffic, but the boy keeps walking fast, almost quickening his pace.

Jisung moves forward and decides that no, he absolutely does not want to be ignored like that by someone who has just run into him.

"Hey!", he repeats, and starts running until he finds himself behind him. A few meters behind, the green light finally lets Minho turn on the engine.

"I'm not saying you have apologize, but at least you could turn around".

Jisung grabs the arm of the rude stranger who quickly walks into the crosswalk, dragging Jisung with him. He doesn’t even give him a glance and doesn’t turn around.

Jisung opens his mouth and now he is sure that he will not continue to be so kind if this guy is going to avoid him. He absentmindedly hears Chan's footsteps coming out of the cafeteria and he's about to tell him to wait for him just a moment, just long enough for him to clear a few things up with the stranger who has, he's pretty sure, hit him on purpose.

Instead, his ears catch only the sound of the two coffee cups slipping down from his friend's hands and a shrill quiver. He just has the time to turn his head and see Chan with his mouth wide open and his eyes terrified, standing motionless on the sidewalk, with one hand extended in his direction.

"What..."

But he does not have the time to finish the sentence because he feels a tug from the stranger he is still grabbing by the elbow, and then a dull pain.

The last thing he senses is an immense red stain in front of him, smell of burning tires irritating his nostrils and a loud ringing noise in his ears. Then nothing.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

beep beep beep

-Jisung-.

Jisung hears a familiar voice calling him. Jisung? Was that the right name? His ears do not react. Another low sounding voice echoes around him.

"Jisung. Come back. We won't let you go".

Something touches his face, very lightly. A deep breath. Jisung tries to figure out in what position his body is placed. He feels forced into something even though he is almost certain he is lying down. He seems to be missing a piece, a part of himself. There is a strong foreign smell of disinfectant alcohol. He tries to open his eyes but cannot find the right muscles to do so.

"Please".

The first voice, the softer, more familiar one, continues to speak to him. He feels a hand caressing his face and eyelids. Once he feels that pressure, he finally identifies where his eyes are and manages to blink once.

"He is waking up".

It takes him a few moments to bring the scene into focus. There is too much white and the light is glaring. He sees, first blurred and then increasingly sharp, three faces leaning over him. Two of them he recognizes, one of them he does not know to whom he belongs. He closes and reopens his eyelids several times until he completely focuses on his surroundings.

"Where..."

He tries to speak but his voice is unfamiliar, as if he had just finished working in the mine. He coughs and regrets it bitterly a second later. Every breath causes him a painful twinge in his chest.

"You are at the hospital".

Chan speaks to him with shining eyes. Jisung turns his head and sees several tubes attached to his arm.

"What?"

Minho curls an arm around Chan's waist and pulls him close. The doctor, the man whose face he did not recognize, checks the IVs and the monitor beside his bed.

"Talk and move as little as possible. The more you try to rest the faster we can discharge you".

He gives him a smile, then looks apprehensively at the two boys next to him and leaves the room.

"What", repeats Jisung panting. His breathing quickens as he realizes where he is.

"You had an accident". Minho squeezes Chan tightly as he speaks. "You crossed the street all of a sudden, I was too close. I tried to hit the brakes but you were..."

He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes. He tightens his lips as he tries not to fidget like his boyfriend.

"Jisung", continues Chan. "I came out of the cafeteria and I saw you crossing the street with someone. The light was green, Minho was a meter away from you, he couldn't stop on time. He literally drove all over you. You were in a coma for a week. I, we thought ..."

His words are interrupted as he begins to cry his body shaking violently.

One week. One week of coma. Jisung's eyes are wide open and he feels his heart stop.

"We thought you wouldn't make it".

Minho's voice is terribly serious. It is obvious that he feels responsible for what has happened.

"What do I have now?".

The voice seems not to belong to him, as if it came from miles away and he heard only its distant echo.

"You have nothing, that's what no one can understand. You should have your pelvis broken, together with all your ribs, arms and legs. You should have a head injury. You should be dead, really. They did all the checks on you as soon as you got here. Nothing came up. In fact, you weren't even really in a coma. It was like you were asleep. No one has given a plausible explanation, Jisung. It seems like a miracle".

At those words, Chan detangles himself from his boyfriend's protective embrace and collapses on Jisung, crying on his neck and caressing his shoulders and all the parts he can reach.

"I will never be able to forget the noise the car made when it crashed into you. Never".

Minho lowers his head and begins to tremble as well before slumping down in the chair beside the bed. Jisung just lifts his arm to let it rest on Chan's head and stroke his hair. The movement costs him immense effort.

"It's not your fault, Minho".

Minho sinks his hands into his hair and a few tears line his cheeks.

"Yes it is. I should have gone slower, I should have tried to stop earlier, I should have..."

Jisung raises a finger to silence him and shakes his head very slowly. No, he mimes with his lips, it's not your fault. Chan seems to recover and looks up at him.

"I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life". he whispers and caresses Jisung’s sweat-soaked forehead.

Jisung closes his eyes. He feels his head bursting as if he had a crowd of people inside of it, jumping and banging their feet on his brain.

A week asleep in something which is not even a coma. Nothing broken, no repercussions. Like it never happened. It seems so unreal to him that he thinks he's going to wake up in his room, with the alarm beeping annoyingly and no will to go to class.

Then, in a second, a thought hits him on the spot and he stiffens.

"There was another person. There was another person with me".

It’s little more than a hiss, but Chan and Minho hear him. The two boys look at each other, and Jisung clearly sees something snap. He can almost hear the sound of it when Chan takes his right wrist in his hands, gently.

"The other person died".

Jisung does not sleep that night and neither does the following.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Jisung is discharged three days later.

His parents called him from the US. The line was bad and he couldn't say much. Not that he had much to tell, he couldn't remember anything, and he wouldn't have wanted to hear their voices anyway. Their son could have died in a car accident, and they didn't even care enough to take a plane to visit him. But he expected it after all. In fact, he is not even that disappointed when he finds out that Chan and Minho were the only ones staying with him during the days he was unconscious.

Jisung decides not to ask the other boy's name. He simply cannot. And even though he does not believe in the existence of God, he thanks him. He thanks him all the way home, with Chan and Minho attached to him, afraid to let him move. He thanks him for seconds, minutes, hours. He thanks him, but not for being alive. He thanks him because he didn’t see his face. If he had, if the boy had turned around when he grabbed his arm, his face would have been sculpted in his mind like a firebrand.

But he didn’t see it, and that allows him a sort of detachment, some dignity. It spares him some pain. That’s why he is grateful to a God in whom he doesn’t even believe. Maybe Jisung will be able to move on without the remorse hunting him, reminding him that if he hadn’t chased him, if he hadn’t screamed and touched him, the boy could still be alive. alive. alive. alive.

"Jisung".

Jisung looks away from the buildings flowing behind the cab window. Chan smiles at him. Minho, two days earlier, confessed that he destroyed the car. He would never be able to get into it again after the accident.

"I'm fine". he answers to the unspoken question.

In fact, it's not even a lie. He is fine, he feels no pain whatsoever and he is able to move perfectly as nothing ever happened. But then he remembers the nape of that neck, the slim waist, the thin arm he grabbed, and he realizes that no, he is not fine at all.

They get outside of his building a few minutes later. Jisung stares at it, standing imposingly in one of the most luxurious parts of the city, and inside he knows he doesn't deserve any of that.

"I'll walk you upstairs".

Chan takes his hand and tries to open the door, but Jisung pulls him back and forces him to sit back in his seat.

"No need. I can go. You guys go and rest".

"Jisung, I will not leave you".

Chan crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him seriously, with a worried frown in his voice.

Jisung knows he just wants to protect him, but Chan doesn't understand how much he needs to stay alone with himself and his thoughts.

"But I need to be alone".

Minho nods understandingly and holds his boyfriend against his chest.

"Call us if you need anything. You know we are here".

Jisung forces a smile. Minho looks at him and he knows it's not spontaneous, but he appreciates that he tried despite everything.

"I know. Thank you".

He gets out of the cab with his small bag containing his clothing, medications and tranquilizers, plus a prescription for a psychologist session that he is certain he will not use. The vehicle behind him disappears into the traffic.

Jisung looks around and everything seems so strange, unnatural, and different, almost frightening to him. With a sigh he crosses the threshold of the building and walks down the hall feeling everyone's gaze on him.

Before anyone can speak to him, however, he steps into the elevator and leans his back against the polished wall. He looks up and tries hard not to think about when, an instant before the crash, he pulled the boy against his chest.

When he enters in his apartment, it almost seems that time did not pass. Everything is still as it was the day of the accident. When Minho came to get his clothes he evidently did not touch anything else, and Jisung mentally thanks him for that. Jisung faces the bed, which is still unmade, and throws himself on it carelessly. The mattress bounces under his weight.

The window is closed, but Seoul's afternoon light filters inside from the large living room balcony. Jisung curls up and closes his eyes trying to silence the voices in his head, and he thinks that somewhere in the universe someone must really hate him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

He wakes up that it is barely dawn. A dim ray, too weak to really disturb him, hits his sleep-wrinkled face and softens his forehead. He has been tossing and turning in bed all night. Not that he thought he was going to sleep, but he hoped that his head would give him at least a few hours of rest before starting to replay in slow motion the full dynamics of the crash. He listlessly gets up and shuffles into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator in search of something to eat.

He picks up a jar of yogurt, but when he looks at the expiration date he tosses it into the dumpster. A black banana falls into his hand. Jisung shudders because he only eats unripe fruit, and he throws that too. Eventually he finds a box of rice cereals buried on the top floor of the pantry. He begins to eat it leaning against the peninsula of the table while chewing slowly and looking out from the balcony. The city has woken up before him, as far as he can hear from the sound of the engines and horns coming from outside. Living on the top floor of a building in Gangnam is irrelevant if you can't have some peace, he thinks.

When his stomach seems to have calmed down, he decides to take a shower. Maybe that will wash away the horrible feeling of heaviness, together with the hospital smell he has been carrying around for days.

He is about to take off his shirt and pants when he hears his phone ringing insistently.

"How are you?"

Jisung lowers his pants and boxers in one swoop while he puts his phone in an impossible position on the crook of his neck.

"As I should".

"And that is?".

"Like shit, Chan".

He hears a soft snort from the other line. He can imagine his friend pacing up and down in his apartment, trying not to wake up Minho.

"Do you want me to come over? You won’t have anything to eat. I'll bring you lunch later".

Jisung takes off his shirt too and stands naked in the half-light, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

"Thanks but it's not..."

Chan interrupts him, the angry tone clashing with his pain.

"Han Jisung, don't tell me it's not necessary or I swear I'll kick your ass. I'll just bring you lunch. And don't you dare not to open the door. I spent the night thinking about you, all alone in that huge thing you call home, so I expect you to eat whatever I’ll get you. Did I make myself clear?"

Jisung remains silent a few seconds, waiting for his friend to finish his rant.

"You have made yourself clear. But now get a couple of hours of sleep. When I said I feel like crap I didn't mean I'm going to jump out of a window. Okay?"

"Not at all. See you later".

As usual, the sound of the line makes Jisung wake up completely.

"See you later". he murmurs to himself.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The water is warm and reddens his skin. Jisung stands still and looks at the ceiling. For a moment he forgets what did happen up to that moment. For a second he is just Han Jisung, he is twenty-three years old, a law student who has two very good friends, a beautiful house and no problems. A normal guy. Everything looks so right inside that steamy cabin where everything exists in its proper place, perfectly set in every corner of his head.

However, when he slides the transparent door open, everything reverts to its disordered state and evaporates along with the drops of boiling water. Jisung absentmindedly observes the skin of his stomach. There are no marks left to testify the accident, and the IV holes are disappearing from his arms. Perhaps time will heal his thoughts as well.

He takes a towel from the closet next to the shower and he vigorously rubs his hair and face. He has no idea about the conditions of his face, to tell the truth. He has not looked at himself for more than a week.

He places the spongy fabric on a shelf and he approaches the mirror. He crinkles his eyes and thousands of black dots appear in front of him, blurring his vision. He staggeringly leans against the sink and waits until he can see everything clearly again. The lights above the mirror are too bright, and Jisung quickly thinks he needs to replace them.

"I must look terrible". he murmurs to himself, laughing dryly.

"You do not".

A voice clearly resonates inside the room.

Jisung turns icy, motionless. A meaningless echo rumbles with the quick realization that someone is there.

Someone broke into.

Into his house. Into his bathroom.

Jisung breath quickens. He keeps his gaze on the sink, trying to figure out where that voice might be coming from.

No one has the keys to his apartment, he thinks disconnectedly. Only Chan knows where he hides them. But a break-in seems unreasonable to him. His apartment is on the 25th floor of a building which is under constant surveillance.

Then who, how, why

"Who are you?"

His voice gushes out rather controlled compared to the nuclear bomb that has just exploded inside his chest. Jisung barely straightens his back and, from the corner of his eyes, he looks behind him, searching for a shadow that would give him a hint of where the stranger is hiding.

"Look up".

The stranger's voice is calm, gentle. A simple observation.

Jisung straightens up a bit. The voice is not coming from behind, he is sure.

"Who are you?" he repeats.

This time his mask of fake strength cracks blatantly. He takes a fleeting glance at his hands and he is not surprised to find them shaking.

"Why don't you see it by yourself?"

Jisung's brain makes a space-time jump. He is no longer inside his bathroom, but in his parents' house. In the living room, to be exact. He is sixteen years old, with fairly long and neglected hair, and an uncertain smile on his face. His brother is sitting in front of him. He is talking to him.

"When you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation", he tells him, "and you can't make the right decision, you have to consider everything you see as a dream inside your imagination. A dream you are living as the protagonist. You think you don't know what is going to happen, but the only one who decides the fate of the ending is you. Even if you don't know it. Even if the events make no sense. You are the only master of your dream and the only director of your life. So, take a breath, open your eyes and observe. Don't get carried away by your emotions. Watch everything as if it doesn’t affect you personally. Because, at the end, it’s just a scene in the movie you are filming. Twists and turns are inevitable, but if you pay attention you will see that there are small discrepancies between the reels that you change. You just have to watch and breathe. Just that, Jisung. Watch and breathe".

Watch and breathe.

Jisung hears those words blowing in his ears. He lifts his head and, somewhere far away, he hears the ticking of water drops falling on the floor.

In front of him there is still the same mirror framing in perspective the bathroom where he is standing. Watching and breathing.

Jisung watches and breathes.

He watches the reflection of a fair body in front of him, a body with a small chest and narrow shoulders, eyes large and expressive, hair blonde, long and neat.

He breathes what must be liquid oxygen, because he feels it flowing differently inside his lungs, it cannot be just air.

He watches a pair of red lips, a small nose, and milky skin adorned with freckles. A face that almost seems to glow under the light of the bulb. He breathes sweat, and he feels as if it rests on his body in a veil, enveloping him completely.

He watches a shy smile, not bold or opinionated. A smile which is just overwhelmingly sweet.

He watches a face of a stranger he has never seen. And he breathes, breathes blood bubbling unsteadily under his enlarged veins.

The reflection in the mirror is not Jisung. The reflection in the mirror is everything Jisung is not. Because Jisung has a tan body, a broad chest and broad shoulders. Jisung has sharp, dull eyes, wet hair, and pale, wispy lips. His nose is bigger and his skin is dull despite of being damp from the shower. Jisung does not smile under the light bulb. Jisung has something that prevents him from pulling his facial muscles and curling his mouth. Jisung is naked in front of the mirror, yet he is wearing a mask. Jisung doesn’t shine, above all. He doesn’t shine.

The boy behind the mirror watches him and breathes. He watches him and breathes in a way that is the same of Jisung, but so much different that it almost hurts. So he reaches out his hand and rests it on the surface of the glass, as to reassure him.

And that’s when he speaks again, when his voice echoes inside that room, that Jisung knows that he is really what he will never be.

"I have always been here". he says.

Then all the lights turn off, or perhaps it’s Jisung himself that is turning off. He closes his eyes and it almost feels like an abomination because he was finally seeing a light.

The last image he sees it’s a hand on a glass in a bathroom, in a building, in a city whose name he cannot remember.

But that's okay.

Because Jisung believes him.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #lee felix #felix #skz angst #skz supernatural #skz smut #han jisung smut #felix smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut

76 notes · View notes

viaoverthemoon · 10 months

Text

Everything

Leon Kennedy X GN!Reader

Idk about you guys... But I've written so much smut lately, that I'm starting to miss angst... ;)

So, here you go! Some angst for the soul!

Summary: You've made a mistake. Will he forgive you?

Tw: Angst, hurt/no comfort, swearing, begging (Like, hardcore on the knees begging), depression (Lemme know if I missed anything! <3)

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Enjoy! <3

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

You'd thought that there would never be a moment in your relationship that would be strong enough to tear a hole in your romance.

Thought that if fate saw it fit, there would never be an argument or fight in sight.

You've spent so long being spoiled by the happy moments with him, that you'd completely forgotten the bad could exist.

But now, as he turns his back on you and walks tensely to the door, you can feel your entire world crumbling.

The tears pouring from your eyes never seemed to cease, snot drying under your nose as you try to sniffle it back.

You're gasping for air. You can't breathe.

Your hands reach for him, grabbing at his arms with a vice grip. He gently tries to pry his arm away, not making eye contact with you.

His mutters your name, fingers softly tugging at yours. But you're relentless, shaking your head as pained sobs tear from your throat.

"Please-! I'm sorry, Leon! I know- I- I made a mistake- But it was for you! I swear, all of it was for you-!"

Your nails dig into his skin. You plead, beg him not to leave. Your knees roughly hit the hard tile of the floor; body filled with so much overwhelming sadness that you fall to the ground.

But you never let go of his hand. "Please... Please don't-..."

His eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments, crystal clear blues dulled as though they've lost the ability to feel any emotion. And for a second, you begin to regret your decision.

"I won't ever- ever do it again. Jus... Just stay... please?"

For a moment, his expression softens. His eyes scan over your face as a pause of silence stretches so long that your hopes begin to raise.

Your thoughts drift.

Maybe, this will all be put behind the two of you. He'll accept your apology. Hold you. You'll cuddle as you watch a movie and laugh. And then fall asleep, forgetting this ever even happened.

Maybe, he'll forgive you. Kiss you on your forehead. Tell you how fucking stupid you were. Curse and swear at you.

Anything to make all of this disappear. To make everything go back to being as it was.

Leon's hand comes to rest on top of yours. Your eyes widen and you look up at him, a small smile raising to your lips as your heart races. This is it. Relief flows through you, breaking down your tension until...

His fingers gently pry yours off of his wrist, this time succeeding.

Your smile falls, brows furrowing. Your feel your heart begin to crack. "Wha- No-"

Without another word, he turns his back on you. "L-Leon, wait! Baby-!"

But he doesn't stop. Doesn't even turn around.

He opens the front door and walks out.

The door softly closes behind him.

You feel something snap. The sound of your life crumbling to a pile of ashes rattling all of your thoughts as you sit on the ground, broken heart bleeding freely within your chest.

You wait.

Your body sits on the floor for hours, waiting for him to come back.

And you eventually realize... he isn't going to.

The tears come silently, your body falling limp and curving into a ball. Your bones snap and pop, the weight of the world too heavy. But you let it crush you, welcoming the darkness that encircles you as you lose vision... and feeling... and...

Everything.

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

Yeah, I wasn't expecting this either :(

Getting requests done!

Hope y'all enjoyed!!

Requests are open! <3

105 notes · View notes

michelleleewise · 2 years

Text

Forget Me Not

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: mentions of injury, sadness, depression, all the angst, very minor death ideation, mentions of memory loss, anger, minor accusations of cheating, mild swearing

Summary: After you left you try your to accept your Loki is gone, you just hope he's happy.

*the response to this was amazing!! It means so much to me that you guys read and share my work, and I'm so glad you like it. So, because I love you all (and with an insurmountable amount of peer pressure lol) I give you........part 2💚💚

Part one Part two-

====================================

It had been three months since you left the tower, since you left your life behind and the pain hadn't lessened. The man you love haunted your mind. Some nights you would dream of you and Loki, cuddled on the couch and you would wake crying, others you would see him and Mellissa from that night in the kitchen, and you wanted to scream, hit something, burn everything. You had everything you ever wanted and it was snatched from you in the blink of an eye.

Last night, it was the latter. You woke up screaming as your sobs racked your body. Could you die from a broken heart? If so you yearned for it, if nothing else so the dreams would finally cease. You climbed out of bed, making your way to the tiny kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee before going out onto the porch. You sat watching the ocean, trying to clear your mind. You had settled on a small island in the middle of nowhere, only you and one small village on the other side. Secluded, peaceful, lonely.

Deep down you hoped Loki was happy, you had no way of knowing, deciding to go off the grid you had no way to contact anyone, it was better that way. You would never be able to love anyone the way you loved Loki, your heart died the day he didn't know who you were, you had become a shell of who you once were. You knew you were alone, and you always would be.

"Loki! Loki wake up!" Melissa half yelled shaking Loki awake "w...what is it love?" He asks rubbing his eyes. "You were saying her name again." She said glaring at him. "Whose name? What are you talking about?" He asked sitting up. "Y/n! You've been saying her name in your sleep for months, what is the deal?" She asked crossing her arms. "Darling, honestly I have no idea, I don't..." he said looking around. "Do you love her?" She asked "i....I don't know. I don't remember her before my accident, just that she took care of me after, and was kind to me." He said sitting against the headboard.

"I can't do this Loki, I can't be with you when your thinking about her." She said getting up. "Darling, please. She's gone now anyway, and Thor said she most likely won't return." He said getting up following her. He grabbed her waist turning her around "I adore you darling, you know that." He said hugging her, she sighed hugging him back. "I'm going to go get coffee." She said, pulling away getting dressed. "I'll be right there love." He called out as she left.

He sat on the bed, his head in his hands. "Why can't I remember you y/n." He sighed sitting up. His dreams had become flashes of you and him, cuddling on the couch, watching TV, making love to you, if they were dreams or memories He wasn't sure. Thor had told him before you left how much you loved eachother, but his mind was blank, nothing of you was there before the accident and now, you were gone and he couldn't even talk to you about it. He ran a hand through his hair, heading towards the kitchen.

The sounds of Melissa laughing drew his attention as he slowly crept to the doorway, seeing her and the soldier, standing very close, smiling at eachother. He was about to walk out when something down the hall caught his attention. "Thor, what are you doing?" He asked walking towards him. "I'm packing up y/n's things. Its been months, I don't believe she is returning." He sighed setting some boxes down. "Do you need help?" He asked "if your up to it, I would appreciate the help, stark wants all of this in storage." Thor said unlocking the door.

He walked in, setting a couple of boxes on the bed looking around. It felt familiar, comfortable. "Ok, I'll start in the closet, you start with the nightstands." Thor said grabbing some clothes packing them. Loki walked to the nightstand on the right, picking up a book of Shakespeare's sonnets, opening the drawer seeing a small dagger, a green blindfold and a picture of the two of you, the ocean behind you both, his arms wrapped around you as you both smiled at the camera. He packed the other things away, still holding the picture. "Thor.." he called out "what is it brother?" He asked coming up next to him.

"Maybe someday we can come here on our honeymoon." He said holding you tighter "we could stay in a cardboard box, as long as I'm with you Loki." You said smiling at him.

The memory flashed to the front of his mind "Thor, was i......" he started as Thor sighed "Yes, that was the trip you told me you were going to propose, you said she was the one." He said pointing at the picture "But it matters not, she is gone." He said going back to the closet. He slipped the picture in his pocket while Thor wasn't watching and continued packing.

He made his way to the desk, emptying the drawers into a box as he started clearing off the top, seeing an envelope with his name on it. He looked up seeing Thor packing the dresser before folding it and putting it in his pocket, he needed answers and you may have left them for him. They finished packing everything, stacking the boxes by the door "let's go have lunch before we move everything to storage yes?" Thor asked patting his shoulder.

They made their way to the kitchen, seeing Melissa was gone he remembered what he saw this morning "I'll be right back brother." He said heading to his room. Not seeing Melissa there either, he headed for the training room, peeking in he saw her and the soldier, sitting on a bench with her legs draped over his lap, her fingers combing through his hair. Loki slowly back out, leaning against the wall sighing before heading back to the kitchen. "What is wrong brother?" Thor asked handing him a sandwich. "I believe my beloved is going behind my back." He sighed sitting down.

"How do you know?" He asked sitting across from him. "I just saw her and the soldier in the training room." He said looking up as Thor nodded "I am sorry Loki, she was never deserving of you If im being honest." Thor said taking a bite as Loki nodded. He went back to his room that night after helping Thor, seeing Melissa packing her things. "What are you doing?" He asked closing the door. "I can't deal with this Loki, I need someone who loves me, not someone else." She said continuing her packing "like the soldier hmm?" He asked sitting in the chair as Melissa stiffened.

"Did you fuck him?" Loki asked glaring at her "you don't have to be so crude." She said crossing her arms. "Well?" He growled "No, I haven't. But he cares about me." She said "gives you attention more likely." He said rolling his eyes. "I'm over this Loki, enjoy being alone." She huffed, grabbing her box "I'll have the rest of your things packed and outside my room, I don't want you back in here." He growled as she got to the door "Oh don't worry, I won't be." She said slamming the door. He got up locking it before settling on the bed, pulling the picture and letter from his pocket, setting them on the nightstand.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands "Dammit! Why can't I remember!" He yelled as he felt his seidr pulse through him. He leaned against the headboard picking up the letter, turning it in his hands, hoping you had the answers he seeked.....

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Im not sure of eveyone who wanted tagged.....sorry!!! Of you want tagged in part 3 let me know!!!

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @lulubelle814 @immersed-in-mischief @daggers-and-mischief @geekwritersworld @freshprincessofpain @buttercupbestie

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basicbatboys · 1 year

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Request #32 Part 3

I think I need a title for this story! A part 4 is surely in order. Thank you to the random soul who requested this, I'm sorry I've turned it into a monster.

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 4

It had been three years since you last saw Jason Todd. You saw Red Hood everywhere though, he was always all over the news, ripping you new wounds and rubbing salt in the old ones.

You missed him. It was as simple as that and still so much more complicated. You missed every inch of him, the way he laughed and breathed, the scars on his hands, his eyes, scattered freckles, scattered thoughts- you even missed the way he was yelling at you that last day.

You had been through almost all the stages of grief. Therapy helped get you to the first stage about two years ago. You fought your poor therapist on many occasions as you battled with denial, swearing up and down that he would come back and things would be the same. Next came the anger and if your therapist had thought denial was bad, she had a bigger storm coming. Bargaining was the easiest. You tried to contact him, but he wouldn’t answer. You can’t beg a brick wall to hold you again.

Right now, you were teetering on the edge of depression about to slip and fall into the warm bed of acceptance. Some days, you could feel relief spreading like vines, ready to pull you into the grave you dug. Some days, the grave was miles away and you couldn’t bear to stand up and search for it.

Today was one of those days.

You woke up that day at 7pm, and your sleep schedule was totally fucked and beyond recognition. Somedays you slept upwards of 14 hours, some days you didn’t sleep at all.

You pulled yourself from bed and walked into the living space, pausing to look around.

You stood in the wreckage of that day, all those months ago. Everything was exactly the same. You hadn’t even picked up the chair he knocked over, not even on your best day. It was your only reminder that he had been real, that he had been here once. You couldn’t stand to change that yet.

Your therapist said you were having such a hard time because Jason was the only person who listened to you and made you feel heard. You weren’t just going through a breakup, you were going through the death of your humanity.

By all means you should have gone and killed everyone in the city. Old you would have, but you had a terrible need to prove him wrong.

“You are not a person. Not to me.”

You were a person. You had a favorite color and a favorite flower. You held stuffed animals at night, and you noticed cracks in the sidewalk and avoided them. You counted steps as you climbed them.

That made you a person, didn’t it? These little things, they all added up to consciousness and that had to count for something.

You stood in your kitchen and made yourself a coffee, holding yourself and resting against the counter as it brewed. The sounds of the city poured through your open window. Sirens, screaming, gunshots, a loud clang.

You looked up, alarmed.

Something else had poured through your open window.

Before you stood the biggest man you had ever seen in your life. He stood up from the ground slowly and pointed a finger at you.

“Havoc.” He bellowed. “My boss wants to meet you.”

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

You couldn’t remember the last three hours. At least you felt like it had been three hours, it could’ve been days as far as you were aware.

You were starting to piece things together, to gain consciousness when someone came in making a sound like a stick being dragged along a metal fence.

As the person came into focus you immediately recognized the Joker, dragging a crowbar along the bars of jail cells. You looked around, realizing you were in a jail cell and as you tried to move you also realized you were tied to a chair.

Fuck.

“My little tornado, how I’ve missed your messes.” The Joker spoke. You winced as his voice came out, gravelly and terribly hoarse.

He came closer until he stood in front of your cell.

“My, my, my.” He tsked, holding his hands behind his back. “Aren’t you just so hard to track down?” He laughed. You frowned.

“See, my dear, we’ve got a little problem.” He pulled the crowbar from behind his back and began to tap it into his hand as he paced back and forth.

“You ruffled that little birdy’s feathers something awful, didn’t you? Trust me, I loved watching it.”

He froze. “Until I didn’t.”

You began to struggle in your chair again, trying anything to loosen the ropes that were laced around every appendage. It was hopeless but you couldn’t die here like this.

The Joker laughed again, “No! No, I didn’t love it anymore when that silly little boy began to play a new game! The violence, the violence!” He screamed.

His voice echoed off the walls and you shivered. You were frozen in fear, unsure of what to do or how to save yourself from this. Was this it for you? Were you destined to be another notch on the Joker’s pistol?

“Once the Red Hood lost his leash, the doggy started running around the city killing my men in droves. So, what’s the logical answer, hm? Let’s put our heads together now, dear, let’s put them together and imagine we are logical and can think of a solution to this problem. Hm, hm, hm.”

He put his hand on his chin and pretended to think for a moment, his foot tapping and his head bobbing from side to side.

You thought too, but not of a solution to the Joker’s latest ‘joke’. You thought about what he was saying. Jason had been more violent? He missed you? He cared? You forgot, for a brief beautiful moment about the situation you were in until-

“Ah! An idea!” He stuck up a finger and a sick grin spread across his face. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to remind him who the real top dog is!” He clapped his hands together, the crowbar making a metallic cling as it hit his hand.

“Yes, let’s remind him. And to remind him, I’ll go ahead and dispose of the only thing he cares about.”

He took the crowbar and pointed it out, spinning around quickly and then slowly until he finally came to a stop. “You.”

#dc fanfic #x reader #fanfic #jason todd #angst #jason todd x reader

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platadesangre · 5 months

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we NEED to talk about jcs 1975 madrid cast!

i have come to make camilo sesto justice

(i finally finished this post yay!)

i may be a bit biased, since this was my first jcs.

short story on how i discovered it

my dad used to be an apostle for a bootleg staged playback jcs in peru during the 70s! they used this version.

he had the cd. he also had the mp3 files. i used his computer, so that was how 13 year old me found it.

those were tough times, bc later i started doing catechesis and i kind of got depressed and started questioning my faith lol. judas' character really resonated with me

since this is a recording, i didn't have any footage to reference, so i made up everything in my mind. (this is why it was a bit weird for me to see the english productions, bc they looked nothing like in my head lol)

now, a bit of historical context for spain in the 70's

camilo sesto was a popular spanish singer and actor who went to see the jcs 1971 broadway production in london. he loved it so much that he did everything he could do financially to bring the show to spain.

spain was in a fascist dictatorship at the time

they fought with censorship for years, that's why the lyrics are a bit different (i'll make a post about that too)

they had to remodel the alcalá-palace theater stage entirely

franco (our dictator) died two days after the premiere (about time lol)

the "ultras" (conservatists) didn't like the show so they did lots of crazy stuff (for example, praying for the cast outside the theater or sending BOMB THREATHS?)

anyways, this was the first official translation for jcs!

on the main cast we have

camilo sesto as jesus christ (he wanted the role from the beggining)

teddy bautista as judas iscariot

ángela carrasco as mary magdalene

here's an old pic of them (and some apostles)

(now that i look at it closely, it kind of looks like a bootleg jcs 1973 lol)

on the recording

it's a stereo recording, so use both headphones or you'll miss out on half of it

musically speaking, it's similar to the og concept album (songs ending on fade-outs and shorter trial before pilate) but it has some interesting choices (teddy, the producer and the voice of judas, took a lot of... artistic liberties)

some things this version has

it adds lots of synth. it's very psychodelic. i understand this can be a turn off for some people

they kinda change the key to many songs. maybe to fit vocal ranges idk

teddy just loves to make up new melodies (please give this man some water)

EPIC GUITAR SOLO in what's the buzz

what's the buzz and strange thing mystifying are separated tracks for some reason

camilo sings so good

cute synth in everything's alright ángela has such an angelic voice she makes such a good mary

the drums and guitars during this jesus must die are so danceable

the BEST simon zealotes i've heard. shit goes HARD. he goes CRAY

i really love this pilate, in my rating he would be the best one

camilo's "¡SALVAOS VOSOTROS!" during the temple is really pathetic lol

damned for all time interlude replaced by synths. the SAX SOLO is also replaced by synth (questionable choice)

cool thing happens during the end of this song that i'll talk about in another post

judas' occasional nervous laughter really adds to his character

also he cries a lot

"you sad pathetic man" part during last supper is... fairly different! (i'm looking at you teddy...)

camilo's gethsemane is epic. he's a baladist singer but MAN he can ROCK

cool harmonica during the arrest

i'll never shut up about our pilate (he nervous laughs too)

herod is so fruity

judas' death really hits different when you were depressed and questioning faith (this version is BRUTAL) also lyrics change (i'll talk about it i swear)

teddy's one of the few judas who sing the i don't know how to love him reprise in the higher scale!! it sounds so painful and anguished

the album continues acceptably

other cool things it has

jesus and judas have this interesting accent difference. since camilo is from valencia, he has this pristine and traditional spanish accent. and teddy is from canarias (also lived in the usa) so his accent is rougher and more, crusty? idk how to explain it but it's neat and stablishes their dynamic a bit. (ángela is from dominican republic! but her accent is barely noticeable)

on the footage aspect, we only have old vhs videos and live audios uploaded on youtube. also some old photos

there is a book about this version. it has some anecdotes (only available in spanish)

now we have a 4 episode mini-series about the odyssey that it was to produce this. it's called "camilo superstar" (i won't be watching it bc it's a bit fan-ficy from what i've seen)

the posts i'll make about this production will be tagged as #jesucristo superstar and #jcs 1975 madrid

you can listen to it on spotify!

or on youtube (playlist made by me)

#jcs #jesucristo superstar #jcs 1975 madrid #jesucristo superestrella #jesus christ superstar #camilo sesto #ángela carrasco #teddy bautista #spain #españa #música en español #musicals #platadesangre #Spotify

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biribaa · 2 years

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I’m crying your write for stray- I’m in love Ty Ty 4 blessing me 😭 anyway could I get a momo comforting a reader with fluff? I had a shit day yesterday but ur writings just brought my mood up 100% <3(also idc what the reader is upset/mad about I’ll let u choose!)