#yeah ill tag him too since he's mentioned a few times

[purpleleafsyt]

Apologies for not maintagging these other posts but for this AU post to make sense you need to read this post and ESPECIALLY this one so go do that.. be aware of the warnings though

So hey hi hello I'm making my own Hanahaki AU since I was the one who sparked up the conversation initially by reminding people that platonic hanahaki can exist :D

In the second post I went over motivations behind Soul, Whole, and an overview of how the headspace works for my HMS.

I mentioned Heart and Mind too, so, I want to go over more with them in this post because they're ALSO interesting

Warnings for everything under the cut: Self harm/destruction/sabotage, Unreliable narration in the form of poor mental ideologies, isolation, suicidal ideation, and gore/body horror. Hanahaki in this AU is a physical representation of issues found in poor mental health so anything that can spawn from that can here!

Unlike Soul, who started having typical symptoms early in the loop, before it developed into something more, Mind jumped almost immediately into the blossoming stage. It couldn't tear through metal, but vines, stems, and flowers certainly found it's way through the exposed parts of her joints. She knew early on that something, fundamentally, was wrong with her

It hurt, more than anything she can remember, to feel it wrap into and tear through her wires. She cursed herself for relishing in the pain, however. It makes her closer to being human, and thus real, if she is feeling pain, does it not?

The divide of being alive and nonliving is something she struggles with a lot, because she finds herself able to logically thing through both. She is a fracture to a whole, who is alive, and yet she is a robot, inorganic, an automaton freak

But that's besides the point. The flowers are confusing, inconvenient, and is halting any progress. How they're even able to grow within her mechanics is beyond her. The flowers make her weaker too, and is sometimes she cannot let her thirds be aware of, lest they take advantage of that said weakness(Because after all, why would any of them inform the others of their condition?)

She, despite everything, wants to understand them. She removes them, because she has to, and repairs herself. She's alone, so while difficult, it's safe. She experiments with the carefully removed flowers, and finds they can continue to grow apart from her so long as she continues to cultivate them. It's a distraction sure, but there has to be an answer somewhere in there. Besides, her garden is her own, hidden, safe, and the flowers are oh so beautiful thanks to her efforts

On the flip side, it took Heart longer to figure it out(Mind found out first, and Heart last. It left Soul, the root cause, in the middle, as usual)

He formed in the new loop, and got progressively sick. It caused agitation, as he kept getting worse, but he pushed through. Eventually, he threw up petals, and was rightfully horrified.

By this point, Mind and Soul had effectively isolated him(themselves, truly, but the real reason didn't matter) so the thoughts were free to creep in, he wasn't needed by them, nor wanted. It doesn't take long, due to the circumstances, for him to enter the blossoming stage.

The removal of the flowers is a violent act, as it always is with him, because like hell is he going to let his thirds see it. They're already treated like a burden to their thirds, why would he let them know it's worse? It's agony, but he does it anyways, all the while hiding himself further

He notices, despite the torn and ripped petals, that the flowers never wilt if he stays by them. They simply do not die in his presence, in his care. From what he can tell, they're vibrant and beautiful too.

He's allured by the flowers. He's not sure of his worth, or his life, but it becons him to take care of it, so he does. Because after all, he needs purpose, and if his thirds clearly do not need him anymore, then he can yield. He devotes himself to his garden, staying alive for the flowers to remain vibrant and beautiful.

The thirds still have to see each other because, after all, if one suddenly dissappears for too long it can cause suspicion to rise, but all of them remain unaware of each other's plights.

(That is, until very specific events happen, which I may go deeper into with another post. This one is dedicated to rounding out motive)

#purpletag #purpletalks #all the black grey and white #hymn to the garden bed #chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj mind #cj heart #cj soul #yeah ill tag him too since he's mentioned a few times #anywaysss thank you Rand for encouraging me to actually maintag my au posts #idk why but I have really bad anxiety about it. but im getting better:> #there's more to this but I kinda want to turn this into a fic so I'm not sharing everything #but I'm hopeful this will suffice in explanation and overview of characters.. #body horror #gore #self harm #hanahaki au #writerposting

[lume-nosity]

an: this is a reupload!! (copy and paste pain) because for some reason my original post wasn’t showing up on the tags?? even my own??? if this doesn’t show up again i’m just gonna leave it as is. also the og’s who saw the post before i took it down are the real ones <3 anyways, requests are closed but i took this as a suggestion because i wanted to do it. when i saw this in my inbox i felt productive/determined to fulfill this ask so you're welcome /Ih and holy shit 2k+ notes on part one you guys are crazy thank you so much i'm so glad you liked it!! you take care of yourself as well dear anon <3

‘i've got my eye on you.’ (pt. 2)

prompt: what would they do if they saw their s/o in an uncomfortable situation

characters: itto, diluc, zhongli, ayato, tartaglia, thoma, kaeya

style: fluff, much fluff

notes: not proofread, lowercase intended, possibly ooc because i used character demos/teasers/ a few voicelines as references, gender neutral reader, the smaller text is whispering, no dialogue/use for [name], kuki shinobu mention in itto's part, how tf do you write zhongli and kaeya, petnames: beloved, treasure, love, swearing, blood mention in tartaglia's part, tartaglia getting a little violent, got lazy while writing the last few portions

reblogs are appreciated!

itto

"HEYYYY THERE YOU ARE!! so uh, are these guys bothering you?"

"huh, so they are. hey! hey, no worries! ill getcha outta here. i'm THE arataki numero uno they’re dealing with."

"hey, so, you're making my lovely super amazing wonderful partner uncomfortable and i would absolutely LOVE it if you leave em alone."

"oh wait, they're already gone. OHHHH did i scare them?? HAHAHAAA, man, that was great. totally worth the scare. anyways! want to have an onikabuto battle? yeah? OKAY! come on, come on, come on!!! i know the best spot to find them. but just so you know, i will beat you this time!"

let me tell you itto's was a lot of fun to write. i don't have to write too seriously!!!

he was looking for you actually, to have a little onikabuto battle since he's determined to win. (despite the many losses he has under his belt)

but seeing you look so uneasy from afar, yeah no he's not having it. ran towards you at mach 20.

one simple glance at him, those creeps are running to their mothers. the best part was that itto was confused as to why they've run off but he assumed it was because of him.

well, he's half right, because what really scared them off was kuki shinobu's shadow quite literally appeared out of nowhere next to you and itto. mvp! you guys weren't aware of her presence, because after they ran off, she just walked away. stealthy. like a boss.

i find it canon that if itto has a s/o shinobu would do anything in her power to keep those two away from trouble/danger. it's her job as deputy leader of the arataki gang, right?

diluc

"look, i'm not interested in small talk, but i'll get straight to the point. if you wish to make things simple for the both of us, see yourselves out. i won't ask again."

"what am i going to do about it? well, wouldn't you like to know." (casually readies his claymore)

"what a bunch of imbeciles. *sigh* i apologize for not arriving here sooner, i'll escort you home."

"you. want to stay with me? alright, i'll arrange a room for you at the winery right away. no? ah. i see. then i suppose my bed would big enough for the two of us to sleep on. are you satisfied with that? good. now let's go."

he isn't the darknight hero for nothing

like the gentleman he is, he was going to accompany you until you get home safely and then exchange goodbyes.

but no, you wanted to stay with him for the night. he has many rooms for the guests to use, but when you in particular suggested to sleep with him in his room, he of course doesn't mind since it's you.

should it be anyone else, it'll be an immediate no. so be glad you get to have this privilege from the guy because he loves you and is willing to do anything for you

zhongli

"pardon the intrusion, but i believe now's the time for the both of us to take our leave. please excuse us."

"it'd be wise for you to not place your indelicate hands onto my beloved. lest you'll see a rather.. grotesque, outcome."

"my dear, are you alright? ... how did i find you, you may ask? oh, please do not underestimate me. i'm far more than what meets the eye."

"we are sharing a contract, after all. to live and cherish life with one another until the end of time, to be safe, filled with tenderness and warmth within our hearts, and to not have anyone interfere that great deal of a bond. for you are my greatest treasure."

rip my brain for having to push zhongli's portion out because it clearly cannot comprehend this man's vocabulary.

you and him are to follow a contract, yes. but it's similar to a confession, if that makes sense?

basically zhongli was the one to confess to you first with his built-in thesaurus (to which you accepted of course if you like him too) and then have you and him sign' this sort of contract as a promise to stick with one another for as long as life can allow it. and by sign...

it's a kiss. to seal the contract :)

ayato

"a pity. hm? yes, i am 'the head of the kamisato clan. but your concerns about my reputation is irrelevant."

"you're harassing my lover, and if i catch you doing this unsightly act once again, then i'm afraid i'll have to resort to something that'll make you wish you've never been born."

"ah, my words were too harsh? nonsense, it was vitally necessary. at least it'd driven them away. well, i guess there are benefits for someone of high status."

"come now, i'll have my staff cook you something to your liking. you are my lover, so they'll be sure to suit your needs. you needn't worry."

fun fact: i've never finished ayato's story quest so i was writing this blind (with the help of some voicelines/demos/teasers, this goes along with the rest of the men on this list)

originally, you two were going on a nightly stroll since he was free but were stopped by a group of creeps. however, ayato handled the matter in his way.

in his head, those creeps are a waste of time and mere bugs because, well, they are. and pathetic, because they immediately recognize him for his high status and they all shrank in his presence. which made things easier for ayato. he made a small threat, and then they zoomed.

afterwards, he wanted to bring you home for dinner instead. continuing to stay out after that ordeal was not an option in his book.

what a good man

tartaglia

"wow, you all are quite bold. daring to do that while i'm here? hah, how risky. i'm actually impressed, by how wrong of a move you've just played."

"say, wouldn't you guys be interested for a sparring session? i'll be delighted to fight you all at the same time to enhance my combative capabilities. no? are you sure? okay, the offer's still on the table you know. and don't think i'm letting you all off so easily."

"love, are you alright? did they hurt you? if they did then i'll be sure to give them the same pain as they did to you. but worse. hm? no? okay, if you insist."

"moving on, let's go home shall we? the more i think about those creeps, the more i'm itching to grab my blades and hunt them down. oh! no, it's nothing. let's move, wouldn't want to stay out for too long."

we all know that he'll definitely end them

the thing is, he was right next to you when it happened and it's almost as if those asshats were blind!!!

blinded by his beauty ig

well, those assholes should sleep with one eye open every night now that tartaglia has seen them.

thoma

"excuse me, my partner and i are in a hurry. we have important business to attend to and we wouldn't want to be late."

"we won't take up the rest of your time, so please, if you'll excuse us."

"phew, that was rough. i didn't like how they were treating you, so i wanted to help you out. oh nonono, there's no need to thank me! as your boyfriend, it's my job to make sure that you're safe and happy at all times!"

"to get your mind off of what happened, i'll cook dinner for you tonight. any preferences? favorites? recipes? ill be sure to write them down!"

thoma based

instead of staying and insulting them, he just makes up an excuse to leave! it saves less time!!

..which shunned the creeps to bits. because you see, to me, people who are as kindhearted as thoma are equivalent to sunshine. and by sunshine i mean blindingly bright.

too nice and polite to the point the creeps are blind and deaf, you get what i mean?

kaeya

"well, well, well, how amusing of you all to act in such a way while i'm here. clearly you weren't cautious about your surroundings nor able to understand the differences between common courtesy and disrespect."

"how do i think so? from what you were displaying a few seconds ago, there's an obvious answer to that. it's allill written in your face. uneasiness. just like my partner."

"run along now, before your feet will run cold."

"ah, please, spare me the thanks. i only did what i had to do. as long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me. now then, allow me to treat you to dinner. it's all on me~"

honestly i got very lost in writing kaya's portion despite listening to his voicelines for like 2-3 times :,)

but, what i can conclude from this is that he'll be the sly bro he usually is with people

except in here, it's a bit different. his words are like that of a snake, wrapping around its prey.

makes sense, because kaeya doesn't stand people who make his s/o uncomfortable. if he scares them off or anything, then so be it. anything to keep you safe.

#✏️ lume writes #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #itto x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #thoma x reader #kaeya x reader #itto fluff #diluc fluff #zhongli fluff #tartaglia fluff #thoma fluff #kaeya fluff

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Four || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: you're his now, but what next?

Mild NSFW

word count: 4544

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, or at least becoming one, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, praise, kissing, Michael is in this

minors dni // pls read warnings!!

a/n: look ik i said i'd finish KNY first and i AM working on it i promise but i am down atrocious for willy rn and i cant help it,, this story and writing willy is also really interesting to me sooo yeah :)) taglist is still open, enjoy! (also disclaimer: i do not condode this type of relationship irl, this is just my take on being with peepaw)

part one // part two // part three

~~~

Sundays were always William's favorite days of the week. Something about them just always felt slow to him and comforting.

They were always placed perfectly in the midst of his busy schedule. On Sundays, nothing was required of the brit. He was able to take his shoes off and relax, knowing that the work week was still away from him. The calm before the storm, if you will. Back when he was still married to Clara, he would make a treat of them. Make his family a traditional American breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, everything.

Not because he loved them, no. Of course not. It was for himself. He liked making himself a banquet. Living in America for so long, he found that he rather enjoyed it's food. The slight chubbiness in his stomach and thighs showed for it. If it were up to him, William would have the whole feast to himself. His family only tagged along because they lived in his house. And he allowed it to keep his façade. Kept them happy and content for a while, too. Shut them up.

But, this time was different. This time, making breakfast on a Sunday morning was special. Because he was making it for you.

And you were the only thing William ever truly loved.

William woke that morning as the sunlight of that beautiful Utah morning crept in through his window, hitting his pale eyes to wake him up. The brit often woke up early before the sun had even made her first appearance, but allowed himself to sleep in just a hair that day. How could he not? When he had the most adorable little bunny in the world curled up in his arms? And potentially disturb them? He wouldn't ever dream of it.

He kept his promise to you in that he didn't leave you throughout the night whilst you slept. He wouldn't even dream of that either. William had one night stands in the past, yes, but you were far above that.

He loved you. He would never leave you.

Just like how you'd never leave him.

Blinking the grogginess of his sleep away from his eyes, William took a deep, long breath of the cold morning air through his nose. Looking down, he could see that you were still asleep. You must've turned around while you were sleeping, because you were facing towards the older man now. William's arms were still snug around your waist, and your little hands were gently laid on the expanse of his scarred chest. Last night must've really wiped you out, since you were still snoring softly before him, your hair partially covering your precious eyes.

William smiled at the sight of you, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face and gently press a kiss to your forehead.

It's alright, little one. Rest all you like. You're safe with William.

The safest place you could be is in his arms.

Don't you agree?

William pressed a few more soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks as he watched you sleep next to him, careful to be quiet and light so he didn't wake you. You were so adorable. So perfect. Just having you next to him made the man feel warm inside, made him smile genuinely.

You were the only one that had ever had that affect on him. Even his ex-wife couldn't accomplish that. She had only been easy for William. He knew that in order to be normal, he would have to take a spouse eventually. Clara was just the only person available at the time. And, to add on, there was also the accident that was Michael. It was only natural for William to marry her. It's what a normal man would do. And his past flings were only just that. Flings. Something to keep him entertained for a night or two.

Clara was never his bunny. Never. She was never even close. Nor any of the other people he had been with.

You were his bunny. And no one else.

And that's why he loved you. For real. Loved you.

Just like you loved him.

As much as William would've loved to shower you with kisses until you woke up, he knew that you would be hungry when you did. It was rather rude of him to promise you dinner last night, then never give it to you. Poor thing, you must be famished. He was sorry, bunny, he was. William always wanted to take care of you. He was just so, so excited to finally have you. Get you all alone with him. Make you his, once and for all. You enjoyed yourself, though, didn't you? Oh, heaven knows William sure did. You were the best he had ever had. Perhaps it wasn't all that bad now, was it? But, still. William couldn't have his bunny go hungry. That was just mean. William could never be mean to you, bunny. Never.

So, allow him to make it up to you.

Leaning forward one last time, William pressed a long, drawn-out kiss to your soft cheek, his eyes lingering on your sweet face a moment longer as he pulled away.

"I'll be right back, bunny. Don't go anywhere." He whispered to you, careful as to not wake you up.

Pulling away from you and out of the covers, it was much colder for William in the cool air of his room without you next to him. You must've felt colder as well, considering how you groaned in your sleep and rolled onto your other side. You had pulled a bundle of the covers along with you, holding it close to your chest as you settled again.

William couldn't help but feel a little sad. He wanted to be those covers.

But, he had to have patience. Michael wouldn't be back from his mother's until tomorrow morning. William still had at least 24 more hours with you. After he made sure you had some good food and water in you, you and him could cuddle all he wanted.

Perhaps even more. Perhaps he could show you a few more fun games you and him could play.

If you were up for it, of course.

Before leaving his room, William crept over to his old wooden dresser and opened up its drawers without a sound. Carefully, William pulled out his favorite pajama pants and sleep shirt and pulled them on, relieving him of just being in his underwear. While he was nearly certain you didn't have any plans of waking up anytime soon, William still left one of his shirts on the end of his bed for you just in case. Shit. What if you did wake up? While he was cooking? You creeping down the stairs all tired in his shirt. It would look so good on you too. It would surely be too large to fit you properly, but not long enough to cover your lower half in any meaningful way. So cute... Come here, won't you, bunny? That's it, good. Lean up against the counter for William. Don't you and him just fit together so perfectly? William's big hands feel so good on you, don't they? Doesn't his fingers fit so well over your cute little butt? Precious bunny, don't mind him if he just had to-

Goddamn it William. Focus. (Y/N) is hungry. This could wait until later.

Giving your sleeping form one last look, William disappeared out of his room and into his kitchen.

~~~

Mr. Afton came to realize that he wasn't too sure of what you liked and didn't. Even after pestering Michael for so long about your interests, and snooping on your friends and classmates over the security cams in the Diner, William was never able to pick up on your food preferences. This was fine. He would learn what you liked and didn't over time, now that you and him were an item. This was the first time he had cooked for you, sure. But it wouldn't be the last.

You and him had a whole lifetime to explore together now. Surely he would learn your diet over time. He wouldn't be a good partner to you if he didn't.

William ultimately decided on something safe, yet also something that would let him guess what you did and didn't like. Toast (one with butter and another with jam), eggs (scrambled), a few pieces of bacon, and water. Surely you would eat at least one of the toast slices. If you didn't, perhaps you had a gluten intolerance. That would tell William a lot right off the bat. The eggs were a gamble, even more so the bacon. He knew that a lot of people didn't like eggs, and felt weird eating them. Elizabeth was like that. The bacon was a meat product too. You wouldn't touch it if you were a vegetarian, nor if your religion didn't allow it. And, if you were a vegan, you would only have the toast with jam. At the very least, however, you were going to eat one of these items. His sweet bunny was kind. You would be polite, and happily eat whatever William gave you that also aligned with your diet. And, if there was nothing you liked, he'd happily get you something you did.

It was a perfect test. William was rather proud of himself.

The brit wouldn't make you climb all the way downstairs for your meal. He wanted to spoil you. It was your first morning with him, this should be celebrated. This was the start of your relationship, and William would be damned if he didn't make you feel loved and cherished today.

Gathering up the plate of food and water cup on a tray, William carried up your breakfast to his room, pushing the door open with his foot. You were still asleep, and it didn't even look like you had moved an inch since he had left.

Silly bunny. You were so cute when you slept. He could watch you for hours. Maybe he would tonight. Just to drink in how cute you were. Hell, if he still had that old polaroid camera, maybe he could take a picture for when you weren't able to stay the night. William you are a genius. A picture would be perfect.

He'll look for it later. When you're in the shower or something.

Setting the tray down on his nightstand, William paused for a moment to admire your sleeping form for a second longer, hovering his face a few feet away from your own. You were so gorgeous. So peaceful and ethereal. You looked like you were a dream. Feeling his lips part, William lifted up his hand and cradled your cheek in his palm, his calloused thumb gently rubbing into your soft skin.

You were breathtaking.

But, it was time to get up, little bunny. William missed talking to you. And oh did he want to talk to you about some things.

Leaning forward, William pressed more kisses onto your face, this time harder and with more purpose.

"Good morning, my love." He rumbled out to you in between kisses. Gently stroking your hair, William could feel you stir underneath his touch, you being gently roused out of your sleep. You tried to protest at first with a few mumbles, and William couldn't help but chuckle. His breath fanning against your face, the brit continued to press more kisses to your forehead and cheeks until you finally cracked your sweet eyes open. You looked up at the older man, the sleep still laced in your tired eyes and voice as you spoke.

"Mmn... William?" you rasped out, making the man smile as he smoothed your hair.

"Yes, love," he responded, pressing another kiss to your cheek, "It's me. Good morning, my precious bunny."

You gave him a soft smile as you took one of your arms out from under the covers, rubbing circles into your eyes to wash away the sleep.

"God, I really thought I was dreaming." You mumbled to yourself, making William chuckle again.

"No, love, no. Not a dream at all." William leaned in and gave you a quick peck on your lips, "Though for me, it is a dream come true."

You let out a sleepy giggle as you sat up, pulling the covers up to cover your still-bare chest, "That's really cheesy, yknow."

"It's the truth, my love. Here."

William moved from your side of the bed over to his, picking up and holding out the shirt he got out for you earlier. With a small thanks, you took the shirt and pulled it on over your head, the loose clothing draping across your shoulders as you pushed the covers back down. Mr. Afton sat next to you and watched.

Damn. Mr. Afton was right. You were adorable in his clothes. You looked better in his shirt than even he did. And that was saying something. He had picked every single article of clothing long ago, and tailored it so he'd be as attractive as possible in them. Of course, he was a little biased. But still. You were just too cute.

"I made you a little something, too." William said as he reached behind up. He picked up the tray of your breakfast and set it gently in front of you, watching as how your face lit up with a smile.

"Oh, wow, this looks so good, thank you!" You exclaimed, picking up your jelly toast and taking a bite, "No one's ever made me breakfast in bed before."

William felt himself smile as his heart swelled in his chest, "It's not trouble at all, love. It's the least I can do after such a wonderful night, yeah?"

You took another bite of your toast and nodded, chewing and swallowing and wiping your mouth before you talked again, "I'm assuming you wanna talk about some things?"

Wow. You were rather blunt, weren't you, little one? William often forgot how smart you were. It's alright though. He loved that about you. How you challenged him. You were perfect.

"Yes, I do, bunny." He said, reaching up to smooth out your hair away from your face, "If that's alright with you, of course."

"Yeah, it's alright. I just have one question before, though."

"Hm?"

"You lied to get me here, didn't you? About Michael needing help?"

William felt a chill run through his veins at your words, his pale grey eyes widening ever so slightly. How did you know? Did you really put the pieces together that quickly? You seemed to believe him last night, you had asked about his son a plethora of times. Or were you just putting on an act? Just being kind to the older man, because surely he wouldn't call you over that late at night for nothing, right? Damn. He had never had someone see through his lies so quickly before. William was a good liar. If we were being technical here, he had been lying for almost 40 years now. Of course he was good at it. And, he was good at covering his tracks too. Finding some way to make his lie believable when he had to lie again to keep it going.

But there was no point now, wasn't there? At least, not with this one. You were a clever bunny. No point of keeping it up.

"I..." William begun. He sighed to himself and nodded, "Yes, love, I did."

You took another bite of your toast, "Why?"

Based on how you looked at Mr. Afton, you didn't seem mad. Not at all. This was good for him. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like if you were upset with him. It'd break his heart. You seemed to like the truth. So, it's the truth he would give you.

"I just couldn't think of another way to get us alone, my love." William said, "I hated being without you. I wanted you for so long, I just... I'm sorry, bunny. I should've thought of another way."

Swallowing your toast, you looked at the brit with a smile forming on your face. Wiping away any crumbs, you leaned over your tray and pressed a gentle, soft kiss to his pale cheek, making his lips part in slight shock.

"It's okay." You said, "I lied too. So we're even now."

You lied to him? Oh, bunny. Naughty bunny. William didn't like bad bunnies that lied to him. Not at all. It was against the rules. You should never lie to William. His job is to keep you safe, and he can't do that if you're bad.

But, then again...

You weren't very aware of the rules yet. Not yet. That's something he wanted to talk about with you today over your breakfast. And you did forgive him readily. The two of you were even, as you put it.

William will let you off the hook this once. He had been doing that a lot these last 24 hours, but it's alright. You would learn in time. William could be a bit more laid-back for now.

For now.

"And what did you lie about, hm?" He asked, genuinely curious. He couldn't even think of when you possibly could've lied.

"When you called me," you explained, "and I said I had class in the morning. I lied about that. I don't have any classes today. I just didn't want to go out that late. You totally fell for it though. I mean, who has classes on Sundays?"

You were right. William maybe should've picked up on that. He was just too excited.

Oh well.

"That's...all?"

You breathed out a giggle, "Yeah, sorry. I just felt kinda guilty. But, I'd say we're even now. And I definitely don't regret coming over."

William let himself smile again at this, leaning in and giving a kiss to your temple, "It's alright, bunny. I forgive you."

When William settled back down in his spot, he made it a point to scoot a little closer to you, placing one of his hands on your bare knee and rubbing soft circles into your skin. He didn't like having to be so serious with you. He wanted you to have fun with him. But, William needed to be serious, so that you could have fun. So that you and him could stay together forever.

You needed to know your rules.

And, more importantly, he needed to gauge when it would be best to see you, and maximize the amount of times he could. You were a college student, so he knew you'd be busy. He was a busy man too. But he wanted as much time with you as possible. Having you near him made him feel loved. And safe. And warm. And comfortable. And...

Normal.

You loved him just as he was. When no one else did.

His sweet bunny.

His.

"Now, love," He begun, sounding sweet yet firm at the same time as he stared deep into your eyes, "I want you to know beforehand that I'm only doing all these things because it's my job to keep you safe. And happy, yeah? That I'm only trying to keep us safe."

You nodded in agreement.

William flashed you a smile, "Good bunny. Now, just for now, I think that it's best that we keep our... relationship just between you and me, yeah?"

You raised your eyebrows a little as you set your toast down, wiping your hands, "Our... relationship?"

William was a little confused.

"Yes, love." He said, "Is that not what people call it these days?"

You shook your head, "No, no! It's just... I was preparing for you to say just, like... That last night was great but we can't see each other anymore."

What? You expected him to just give you a one night stand? William felt his heart break a little at your words, his brow bending downwards as he cupped your face in his palm.

Did he not do a good job of showing you how much he loved you? Did you not feel loved? Bunny, you need to tell him these things. William wants you to feel good with him. Both emotionally and physically. He wants to show you just how much he loves you, and damn him if he can't get the message across. William loves you so, so much.

"No, love, no." He reassured you, "I meant what I said earlier. That I want you to be mine, forever. You remember, yeah?"

You nodded in agreement, a tiny smile reappearing on your sweet face.

"I mean it, bunny. You're the only one for me." His thumb traveled down to your lips, pressing against the soft skin, "My precious darling..."

Your smile grew as you pressed a kiss to William's hand, nuzzling your cheek further into his touch.

"But, we have to be a secret?" you asked, your doe eyes looking into his.

"Unfortunately, love, we do." His thumb went back to rubbing gently against your cheek, "Just for a little while. Believe me, I want to show you off to everyone. It's just, for now, it's... complicated."

"Wait... you're not married, ri-"

William chuckled, "No, no! Definitely not. I've long since been divorced, love."

"Then why do we have to be a secret?"

William smiled at your question. You were just so adorable. You wanted him to show you off, didn't you? Precious bunny. Of course William wanted to let everyone know you were his. Because you were. His. He didn't want anyone in this fucking idiotic town taking you away from him, no.

It's like he said. It's complicated.

"Because, love," he explained, "It just might be a little... jarring to some people. Especially to a certain someone we know."

Fucking Michael. William knew that if Michael found out about you and him, hell would be raised in the house. William didn't want to deal with the headache of it all. The little brat might run off and spread some nasty rumors too. Or, even worse, feed you all sorts of lies. About how William was no good for you. About how he was just a mean man that wanted to have you just for some good arm-candy. That William didn't love you.

That's the one. That's the one that made William's blood boil, at even just the mere thought of it. William did love you. He loved you more than anything or anyone in the entire world. And you loved him back. Who was Michael to take you away from him?

No one. Absolutely no one.

William knew you wouldn't want to be a secret forever, though. As easy as it would be. It was fine though. William didn't really want to keep you a secret either. He was genuine when he said he wanted to show you off. He wanted to kiss you and hold your hand in public and not apologize for it. Hug you. Let you walk around with his marks on your neck. Smell like his fancy cologne. And even, perhaps...

Oh. Oh, that was a good one.

Perhaps even he'd put a ring on your finger.

Oh, god. His little bunny. With the ring he got them on their finger. In a little wedding outfit. Having it written on paper. The honeymoon...

Yes. That was a good one.

He'd have to keep that in mind for later.

"But," you said, "Michael is still my friend. I can't just not see him around classes and stuff. He's still gonna wanna have me over and all that. Wouldn't it be... awkward?"

"It doesn't have to be," William reassured you, taking one of your hands into his and kissing your knuckles, "We'll just have to pretend for those bits, won't we? Perhaps if we get a moment alone, too..."

You giggled at his insinuation, a faint tint on your cheeks.

"Do you think you can keep our little secret safe, bunny?" He asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I can. I can keep a secret."

"Good. I promise to keep up my end of the bargain, too."

"So... when will we get to see each other then? I still have classes during the week, so, like, the weekends?"

William kissed the back of your hand again, giving it a squeeze, "That'll be the best time for both of us, yes. I know you're busy with your studies, and I'm busy as well. However..."

William let go of your hand briefly to reach behind him into the drawer of his nightstand. He felt around for a few moments before he found what he was searching for, pulling it out and shutting the drawer.

"I'm usually in my office while I'm working. Here." He explained, pressing the object into your hand, "This is the spare key. If you go in through the front, just take a right and keep going until you reach the end of that hallway. Mine is the last door on your left. You're free to come in whenever you want, bunny. Just make sure no one sees you, yeah? And if I'm not there just wait a little, and I will be."

Mr. Afton watched as you turned the key over in your hands, the silver reflecting onto your adorable face.

"You work at that diner that all the kids like, right?" You asked, "The one on Main with all the robots?"

William chuckled, "Yes, love. That's the one."

"Cool. I've never been there before."

Trust him, bunny. He knew.

"Well now you have a reason, yeah?"

"Definitely."

William smiled at you again, leaning in and giving you a kiss on your cheek as he took your hand into his again.

"There's just a few more things, love." He said.

"What is it?"

William wasn't too sure how you would react to this last part. Your real rules. But, he also knew that you hadn't had a relationship before. Perhaps you would just think that they're a normal part of a relationship. It's not like what he was going to ask of you was hard or anything. It was just a few things to make sure you were safe. Something to keep your mind occupied with him. He didn't want you wandering off already, no. Not that you would. You loved him. When it came to you, however, William was more paranoid than normal. He didn't even want a chance for you to slip away from him.

It'd be okay. Surely. You loved him. You wouldn't mind a few rules, wouldn't you bunny? They're just so William can keep you safe. Isn't that what you want?

Of course you would. He just had to word this properly so it didn't' scare you.

"I would... appreciate it," He begun, rubbing soothing circles onto your knuckles, "If you would phone me at least once during the week. And tell me if anyone has been pestering you. And be honest with me. Always. No matter what, yeah?"

William reached out and smoothed your hair behind your ear, dipping his hand down to cradle your cheek again in his palm.

"Can you do that, love?" He asked, "Be a good bunny for me?"

He could feel your cheeks heat up again as you nodded.

"Yes, I can..."

Mr. Afton smiled, "Thank you, dear."

What a good little thing you are. So eager to please him already.

"But," you peeped out, "What if Michael answers instead?"

You made a fair point. William's son was rude. And often made William's life all the more harder. Hell, it was because of him that the brit couldn't show you off around time. Hide you away. That goddamned brat. Michael was lucky that he was the reason William knew about you. Otherwise, William would've never seen anything good about that boy.

Embicile.

William let out a hum, "Don't worry about that, love. I'll take care of it. Just talk to him like you normally would, I'll be there eventually. I promise."

"If you say so."

William felt his smile grow at your words. You were just too perfect. William wondered why he didn't enact his little plan sooner. The way he felt now versus before was starkly different. This must be what real, genuine love and happiness felt like. The older man would sometimes feel jealous of those who got to experience it, thinking he never would. But, here he was, and here you were.

You made him so happy, bunny. His sweet, precious angel.

"Is there anything else you want to add, bunny?" He asked, wanting to make sure you were comfortable too.

You shook your head, "No. Just, thank you for breakfast. It was yummy."

William took that as a sign that you were done and took away your tray, setting it on the nightstand, "It's no trouble at all, love. Now, come here. Let me hold you a bit."

The brit saw how you smiled as you scooted over in the bed closer to him, so pretty just for him. William leaned back against his headboard as you drew closer, wrapping his hands around your waist to pull you into his lap so that you were facing him. He took your sudden proximity as an opportunity to capture your soft, precious lips into another kiss, feeling how your hands rested on his strong shoulders. William's hands couldn't help but start to wander when he felt your heat close to him. Down your hips and waist. Down to your cute little butt, and those delicious, soft thighs.

You were still a little sloppy and timid with your kisses, but William didn't care. He was honored to be your first kiss. First time. First boyfriend. Everything. It's not like you'd ever want a different man, anyway. You were his. And only he could treat you the way you were meant to be treated. Can't you see it, little one? He already knows nearly everything about you. He did plenty of homework beforehand. Studied you. Researched you. Watched you. Planned everything just so you'd fall into his arms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything. He couldn't even put into words just how much he cherished you. And just how many times he's imagined this very moment before.

So, its okay that you're not the best kisser. Totally fine. You'll learn in time. There's plenty more kisses where this came from.

He made sure of that.

~~~

To Michael, the weekends always flew by with such speed that he barely even realized that they were there.

The brief reprieve he got from them was never nearly enough. Not even on the odd occasion that he had three-day weekends. Nothing would ever be good enough, so long as he knew as he had to go back to his damn dad's house.

Fucking hell. Michael hated his dad. He hated his dad more than anything he ever hated or will ever hate. He knew his father hated him too. He knew that when his sperm-donator looked at him, there was no love there. Michael wasn't sure if the old bastard was capable of love. There had been nothing there for all the years Michael had been alive. Nothing for him, nothing for Elizabeth, nothing for Evan, and certainly nothing for his mom. His mom was lucky, though. She was able to get out. Get a divorce and move two towns over.

But, Michael wasn't so lucky. The court had decided that his father should've gotten custody of him for whatever reason. Bull-fucking-shit. The only reason William wanted him was to keep his torture going. Michaels father knew the young man was miserable there, but didn't care.

Sick fucking bastard. No wonder mom left.

Michael had considered moving out when he was 18, but the idea was shot down nearly as quickly as he had thought it. He needed to go to college. And, his dad's place was the only thing close enough to a college. Michael couldn't afford an apartment either, not with the pitiful salary his dad gave him at the diner. So, Michael's hands were tied. He had to live with his old man.

Sick fucking bastard.

It was harder and harder each time to say goodbye to his mom and brother and sister. But Michael knew he had to, but always promised to come back next weekend. A promise he kept ever since he got his license. This time, however, seemed even harder.

The fights Michael and his father had that last week were horrible. Nearly full-on yelling matches with one another. His dad had refused to admit that he stole Michael's car keys. Mike fucking knew he did too, as much as the old geezer tried to deny it. Bastard went as far as to unplug the fucking phone from the wall too. Michael was basically on house-arrest for no goddamned reason. Michael was forced to clean the entire house too, until everything was nearly spotless.

"You're not going anywhere until this house is fit for the bloody queen, young man." His father had said.

Was this just some sick game his dad was trying to play? A new method of how he can make his son's life all the more shitty? Maybe. Knowing how he was.

But, still. Mike tried to remain optimistic. Both he and his old man had a few days to try and cool down. Have some stress-relief. Maybe Michael could just come home and they could pretend like the last week never happened. Which, he had learned, was the closest thing to an apology he would ever get from William.

Hopefully he could come home and it'd be alright.

Hopefully.

Michael had gotten out of his mom's house a little later than he wanted. By the time he had gotten home, the sun had already begun to creep down the horizon, and the cool night air had begun its trek across the whole neighborhood. Pulling up to the familiar driveway of the house, Michael was quick to notice two things at once. The first being the most obvious was the pit of dread growing in the bottom of his stomach. It was okay though, he always felt that way when he returned home from a weekend at his mom's. The other thing, however, was the fact that the lights were on outside.

How long had it been now? That Michael asked his father to leave the light on for him? It must've been years. It was a simple thing to ask for, probably the only think Michael ever asked for from his father. But, of course, William had never delivered. Ever. It was one more way William made sure Michael's life was a living hell. Show him that he will never get what he asks for, or any sort of nice things.

But yet, they were on.

Strange.

Taking a brief moment to collect his thoughts in the sanctuary of his car, Michael took a deep breath in and out of his nose, running his fingers through his combed, feathered hair. Once he was ready, he pushed open his car door and stepped out, locking it behind him. The young man then shifted his keys around in his hand as he approached the front door, eventually finding the lock and opening it.

"I'm home!" Michael called out into the empty foyer as he shut the door behind him. He looked around for a moment for any sign of his father, but saw none. Pausing for a moment, he listened for any sign of him tinkering in the basement workshop.

Nothing.

What the fuck? Where the hell was he?

Whatever. Old man was probably just at Mr. Henry's house or something. Maybe the diner. What did Michael even care, anyway? He could use this opportunity to slip into his room without a fight.

In the quietness of the house, Michael could hear how his footsteps echoed off of the wooden floors and onto the walls. It was eerie, in a way. But why? Whenever he came home from a weekend away, the house was always like this. Hell, it was like this nearly constantly, unless he or his father was using the phone, Mr. Henry was over, or there was a fight. But, that night it was just... different.

Mike didn't know what it was. Did he even want to know? He wasn't sure.

But it had to do with William. He knew that much.

Michael was smart.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Michael groaned at the sight before him on instinct. Of course he couldn't just go to his room without there being some sort of trouble. He had thought he smelled smoke in the doorway. There, at the head of the table, was the man of the hour. His dad. That stuck-up narcissistic piece of shit. The old man was surrounded by all sorts of papers, an ashtray pluming smoke with...

Was that a cigar? A fucking cigar? Michael's father only smoked those around the holidays.

What was the occasion?

Michael watched as his dad realized that his son was home, and how the slight smirk on his dumb face grew as he looked at the young man.

Hell no. Hell fucking no. Something was up.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that, Michael." His father said, setting his pen down and tamping out some ash from the cigar, "You'll give your old man a heart attack."

Michael rolled his eyes, "I said I was home. Or are you going deaf now, too?"

William chuckled as he took a puff of his cigar, which made Michael's skin crawl. The fuck was his deal?

"I'm not that old, son."

"You look like it." Michael mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes.

William placed the cigar down as he took a bundle of papers into his hand, leaning back in his chair as he read them, "How was your trip?"

Okay. No. Something was definitely up now. William never ever cared about that kind of shit before. And where was all the sarcasm? And the griping? And the whining and throwing a fit? The old man was in too good of a mood tonight. He was never in a good mood when Michael came home. He hated Mike, and Mike knew that. Mike hated him too, and wasn't shy about showing it. And neither was his old man, in the past at least.

Something had to have happened. This didn't just come out of nowhere.

That bastard did something. Michael knew it.

But what?

"Since when do you care?" Mike asked, crossing his arms.

"Is it a crime to worry for your children now, hm?" William asked, a hint of sarcasm in his accented voice.

Michael rolled his eyes again, "Cut the shit, old man, I-"

"How are Elizabeth and Evan?"

"I... They're fine. Evan still carries that bear you gave him. And Liz asks about you all the time. She misses you. They both do. They wanna visit."

William's face looked indifferent about the matter, "They're always welcome. Just bring them next time you come back for the weekend."

"Yeah, bullshit they're always welcome."

William looked up from his papers and raised an eyebrow, "Someone's hostile tonight, hm? Traffic bad on the way home?"

That condescending prick. Michael was already getting heated, the redness of his freckled cheeks hard to ignore. He re-crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall.

"I know you did something." Michael admitted matter-of-factly. From across the room, he could see his father's smirk growing ever-so slightly as he set his papers down, dipping forward to rest his arms against the dining table. The old man laced his fingers together as he looked at his eldest son.

"Do you now?" William asked, making Michael clench his jaw.

"Yes."

"And what exactly might that be? That I'm supposedly guilty of?"

Michael swallowed the lump in his throat as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. Shit. He didn't think that it'd get this far without it just turning into a screaming match. Michael didn't have any proof William did anything. Not anything that solid, at least. But it'd have to do. It was enough to convince him that his father did something, and having known that damn bastard all his life, that was enough. William probably knew that too. Knew that it was just enough to rub in Michael's face, but not enough to accuse him of anything without sounding like an asshole.

Sick fucking bastard.

"I... I don't know." Mike admitted, "But I know you did something. You never act like this when I get home."

William tsked, "Getting mad at me over nothing? Come now, Mike. You're better than that, surely. You know, you sound more and more like your mother every time you go over there. Old bat's still rubbing off on you, I see. Pity."

Michael felt his jaw clench again as he pushed himself off the wall, taking a few steps closer to the table and pointing his finger at the old man.

"Do not bring mum into this!" Michael exclaimed through clenched teeth. "You did something and I just know it! Cut the shit already!"

"I'm still waiting to hear what something is, Michael." William said, not moving an inch, "Whatever it is you can tell me. You know I'll apologize for it."

That fucking liar. Michael's dad never apologized for shit in his entire life. And he fucking knew that too. Michael's vision was starting to go red.

"You never ask how Liz or Evan are! And you left the fucking light on after I asked you for years to leave it on and you never did!" Michael was raising his voice a bit more than he wanted, "You're just... different! And I know that damn look! You did some shit, I know it!"

William sighed and leaned back again in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Michael, I'm not in the mood to do this with you right now."

"Bullshit! You want this to happen!"

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because that's what you fucking do!"

"Do what?"

"You fucking start shit because-"

"I didn't start anything, Michael. You're the one that's angry here."

Michael had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from yelling, running his hands through his hair as he let out a laugh of disbelief.

"I can't fucking believe this..." He said.

"I can't either, Michael." William responded as he stood up from his chair, gathering his papers and tamping out his cigar, "And to think I deserve all this, after just trying to be nice to you..."

"But you're not! You're just-"

William held up a hand as he looked down at his son with a disappointed expression, cutting him off, "Save it, Mike. It's late, you should just go to bed, yeah? You're just tired from the drive. I'll be in the basement."

Michael watched in disbelief as his father made his way across the kitchen without another word, opening the door to the cellar and closing it behind him. How fucking dare that old piece of shit walk out on him like that. Goddamn it, he knew what he was fucking doing. He knew. He always fucking knew. He was just trying to fuck with Michael again. Play another one of his stupid fucking games and make Mike's life a living nightmare.

But Michael wouldn't give up so easily. No, he wouldn't he couldn't.

He had to know what his father did. He had to.

He needed proof.

And the proof was here. Somewhere.

After listening for a moment longer, when Mike was sure that his father was down situated in his workshop, the young man got to work.

If he was going to find some sort of proof, it had to be somewhere where William didn't think that Michael would look. Or, it was somewhere where William knew Michael would think would be too obvious of a place to look. But it could be both at once. Michael knew that was probably the case. William was smart, he had to admit, and knew how to hide things well. But Michael was smarter. And had the advantage of putting up with the old brit's bullshit for his entire life. He knew how William operated. Or, at least, could make a good guess of it. In the past, he had to find other things using the same logic.

The best place to start would be narrowing down possibilities.

His father's room would be too obvious. It definitely wouldn't be there. Bedrooms are the first place people stashed important items to them. So that they were near, and felt safe knowing that whatever they were trying to hide was in a safe space. William's bedroom was always neat and tidy too. Everything had a very specific place, and William almost never added or removed from his inventory of things. It would be too easy of a place.

Definitely not there.

The workshop was too obvious as well. It was like William's second room in a way. The old bastard often slept in there when he was working on a new project. It was just as tidy, too, save for the workbench. Proof wouldn't be down there either. Besides, Mike didn't like going there too much. It was creepy.

Not there either.

Could it be Michael's room? No, certainly not. That was too much of a risk that Mike would just find it on accident. Maybe in Liz's room or Evan's? No, for the same reasons. In the kitchen? Maybe. There were a lot of drawers and cupboards to stash things in, especially in the ones that were only used once or twice a year during the holidays. The living room was a possibility too. There were lots of nooks and crannies to store things in. Hell, knowing his father, if he really wanted to hide something, he could even go so crazy as to rip apart floorboards or tiles and hide things underneath them. William always took pride in his house and the fact that he owned it, and could do whatever he wanted to the things that he owned. Controlling piece of shit.

But, even still, all these possibilities didn't seem right. They didn't feel right to Michael. He had to think. What was the most on-brand thing that William could do to hide something. Think, Mike, think.

The bathroom? No. The diner? No, too far out of the way. Mr. Henry's place? No, too far still. Outside? No...

Suddenly, it hit him. Michael felt his lips part at the revelation.

What is the most visited room in the house that you don't think twice about going in to? Or what's in there? A place where you can easiest hide things in plain sight, because no one ever pays attention.

Bingo.

The laundry room.

Michael quickly made his way over to the room, flicking on the light switch as he entered. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place from when he last went in there. As expected, however. This was only a ruse to throw him off, Michael knew.

The first thing he did was tear open the cabinets above the washer and dryer, digging through all the contents to find something, anything. Nothing. He even went as far as to push on the backside of the wood, feeling for any pieces that broke off into secret tunnels. Nothing.

Bullshit. It had to be here.

Michael next checked the two hampers that stood next to the machines, digging all the way down and shifting through all the clothes inside of them.

Nothing.

Bullshit.

Michael knew that he was close. He could feel it, taste it on the tip of his tongue. It was here. He knew it was. Whatever his father was trying to hide from him, it was here.

Think, Michael, think.

Hidden in plain sight... in plain sight...

In sight.

Inside.

Bingo.

Michael spun around and knelt down in front of the washer and dryer, opening the washer first. Inside, a wet, dark pile of his father's clothes greeted him, and Michael sneered. Although the clothes inside were damp, it didn't stop him from pulling each and every last article of clothing, inspecting each and every one of them, and even pulling out all the pockets of the trousers and coat. Eventually, the young man reached the last article of clothing and threw it to the floor.

Nothing. It had to be the dryer.

Shifting his weight to his other knee, Michael opened up the dryer door. Inside, another dark pile of his father's clothes greeted him, although this batch wasn't wet like the other one. Still, Michael took his time pulling out every single article of clothing and checked it thoroughly, discarding it to the ground if it was of no use.

Quickly, Mike was able to reach halfway into the pile of clothes. Reaching in to grab another pair of dress-pants, Michael noticed a contrast of fabric within the pile. His grey eyes gravitated towards it immediately.

His father didn't wear things like that. He was an old-fashioned, dress-to-impress person.

That wasn't his father's.

Reaching in, Michael grabbed the article of clothing. It was soft and plush, but still felt like it had a lot of history to it. It felt used, and loved and cared for. It felt like it missed whoever owned it.

Michael pulled out the garment and turned it over in his hands. It took him a moment to process what it was exactly he was looking at, but when he realized, he felt his blood run cold.

It was a jacket.

He knew this jacket.

He went to classes with this jacket. He skipped classes with this jacket. He went to lunch with this jacket. He drove in the neighborhood with this jacket. He joked around with this jacket. He did homework with it. He called it on the phone. He gossiped with it. Hugged it. Squeezed it. Cared for it.

This was a jacket he knew.

Your jacket.

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 , @the-official-memester , @randomwriteralan , @mrsrogerwaters , @laylaaftonshit , @cherry-slushee , @insert-memical-username , @mrssafton , @horrorking2000 , @artist-anon08 , @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

if i missed you pls lmk!!

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #william afton smut #william afton #dave miller x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut

[islandofsages]

darling heart.

summary: in which you are someone who participates in/identifies with jirai kei culture.

characters: heartslabyul boys x gn reader

tags: relationship not specified, fluff, imagines format

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of self-destructive tendencies

author's notes: hiiii this is very self-indulgent bc i am a jirai kei babe,, im specifically a jirai danshi <3 i might do for other dorms too, depending on my motivation lol you can find out more by searching up jirai kei tho dont just read the jfashion wiki for it, it's more than just a fashion style. also beware of potentially triggering stuff since it deals with mental health and all

Riddle Rosehearts

He’s intrigued by this subculture that you participate in and he’d ask you more about it, if you don't mind telling him - he’ll do his own research too anyway

When he finds out it's basically a subculture consisting of people with emotion dysregulation issues and is generally controversial, he checks up on you and asks you if you're okay or not

You laugh then – you’ve had your ups and downs but really, so has everyone. You hope reading about it hasn't scared him off

He’d feel like calling you a “landmine type” is too insensitive but you assure him that there's nothing to worry about and that people who participate in the subculture has reclaimed such stereotypes and fully embrace it

He’d really enjoy seeing you decked out in jirai kei fashion; he may want to try it himself but he’d insist that it's not in his place to participate, only support from the sidelines

You do get him to try out clothes that are similar to or inspired by the culture though – he seems to be comfortable in the style and you're happy that something that you enjoy can also bring the same joy to him

You’ll also recommend some songs to him, especially ones that you think would help him in studying despite the sometimes concerning lyrical content

If someone tries to bully you for identifying with the subculture, he’d step in immediately and defend your honor

“What right do you have in deciding what (Y/N) identifies with? That's what I thought. I’m always in the right.”

Through your downs and ups, Riddle will always be there for you.

Ace Trappola

He has heard of it before but he thought it was only a type of fashion, not a whole subculture with more substance to it than clothes

You’d infodump to him all about it and your journey with it, whether you just discovered it or have been identifying with it for a long time – he listens to you curiously all the while

He’s caught off guard for a moment by the more controversial and depressing part of it but he quickly recovers

He’s happy for you and glad that you’re comfortable having such a culture define a part of you

Though he implores not to do all the self-destructive stuff if you could and he’ll look out for you more just in case

He definitely thinks you rock while wearing your jirai kei outfits; it’s not his style but he wouldn’t mind trying it once, just to get a feel for the style

“Yeah, this is definitely not my thing… you, on the other hand, look pretty awesome.”

You’d give him a link for your playlist (or a playlist you’ve saved) and he’d listen to it when he’s bored – ends up adding a few songs to his personal playlist

If he finds anyone stereotyping you unnecessarily, he’ll call them out, saying as if they’re any better

Despite everything, you are still uniquely you in his eyes.

Deuce Spade

He apologizes for not knowing too much about it when you bring it up and you tell him it’s okay because it gives you an excuse to ramble about it

You tell him what it entails and how you’ve come to find out about it, sifting through your past experiences both good and bad

He tries very hard to be understanding, even if he doesn’t really get it. You’re just grateful to have his support

“I don’t really get it but it gives you a sense of community, right? I think that’s pretty cool!”

He’s also a little concerned about the mental illness part so he’d regularly check up on you to make sure you’re doing okay

He’d ask you to tell him more about your experiences with the subculture if you have any more and if anything exciting happens, you go to him first

Such as acquiring a brand new article of jirai kei clothing for example! He thinks the style is super pretty and fits you really, really well

He’d listen to the music together with you, sharing earphones and all – maybe he would even listen to them while he tries to do anything

He’ll be your guard dog and bite back whoever dares to make fun of you for being part of the subculture’s community you’ll have to calm him down sometimes

You couldn’t ask for a better cheerleader than him.

Cater Diamond

He’s always known about the subculture and although he doesn't participate in it, he thinks it's really neat

You tell him more about it and about the misconceptions people have about it so that he doesn't misunderstand

He’s super stoked that he knows someone in real life who actually participates in the subculture since he gets to see how it actually is in reality

He mostly knows about the fashion and when you come rocking up to him wearing the classic jirai kei look, he tries his best not to fanboy

He compliments you then proceeds to ask you where you got it – though cute styles like it aren’t his thing, he feels like he can give this style a try

He’d match with you on days he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable with more cutesy styles and snap pictures of you two to post on Magicam

He’d also go scouring for the music online to add more songs to his already rapidly growing playlist. He’d share some recommendations with you too!

Unintentionally got you more jirai kei friends since some people saw his posts about matching with you on Magicam; even people you already know commented on his post

“Look at us, (Y/N)! We’re totally Magicam-famous now~”

You laugh with him, head thrown back while the seeds of your relationship bloom behind where the two of you sit.

Trey Clover

He doesn’t know too much about it so he’ll ask you to explain to him what it is – to which you excitedly agree to

You tell him everything from the origins to how you’ve come to participate in the subculture – he nods patiently all the while

The mental health part of it has him questioning you a bit but he has no ill intention, he’s simply looking out for you and is worried about you

He’s supportive all the way and thinks it’s nice that you have something you’re passionate about. He’d even do his own research when he has the time

He’s pleasantly surprised when you show up wearing jirai kei fashion one day; he definitely thinks you look striking in the get-up

He wouldn’t mind going with you if you were to shop for more jirai kei-related things – he would joke you’ll have to repay by helping him out another time though

He’ll listen to your song recommendations and if he likes them enough, he’d listen to them while he’s in the kitchen. He likes that they remind him of you

“Oh, this one’s pretty catchy. …These lyrics though…”

Going places with you certainly catches attention sometimes but he doesn’t mind, as long as you’re happy and comfortable in your own skin

His name truly defines him – you sure feel lucky to have him in your life.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

#harringrovemicrofic3 #harringrove microfic #harringrovemicrofic #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #i can't believe there's not a tag for bitchy steve harrington #no upside down au

[bokutizer]

➵ NARUMI GEN

summary : Narumi Gen's life has its highs and its lows, but he's glad that he does not have to deal with the latter ones on his own (he would never admit that though). tags : exes to lovers (?), fem!reader, fluff, angst, something between comfort and reverse comfort?, mentions of blood, spoilers for chapters 53/54 a/n : I can't believe how much fun I had writing for him. He's such a versatile character AND A GODDAMN BABY <;33

It was not an unusual occurrence to find the commander of the first division of the Defense Force huddled up in his messy and dump-like bedroom. Yet the palpable melancholy in the light deprived room was rare. It was nothing new, considering that his job brought many sacrifices and losses with it, but still. It was rare.

Narumi was lying on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, changed into a white shirt with a faded Gundom imprint on it and his usual black sweatpants. Besides the few scratches along his jaw, nothing would have made you guess that this man had been on the battle field and had lost his mentor a few hours prior.

Yet here he was, barely acknowledging your presence as you finally closed the door behind you and, with slow and quiet steps, strode over to his bed. Between the various cushions and blankets on his bed, you could also spot the controller of his BS5 which lay beside his limp hand, even though the TV was clearly turned off, its screen pitch black. You wondered if he had really been able to muster some strength to game or if the abandoned controller was just another sign of defeat. Defeat because he had neither physical nor mental strength left to distract himself.

"What are you doing here?" despite the low volume of his raspy voice, his words managed to resonate through the quiet room, his face still facing the ceiling, his eyes covered by his multicoloured bangs.

"I've heard what happened to Mr. Isao." you spoke quietly, carefully choosing your words because you knew Narumi all too well. If it were for him, he would think that your presence was a mere sign of pity, a sign of his defeat, of his failure.

That's why the next time he spoke, his words were louder, harsher even. The tension in his body was clearly visible, tendons along his throat straining and jaw clenching. "Why. Are you here?"

You remained quiet and instead of snapping back, simply decided to take a seat on the edge of his bed. It was not noticeable to the naked eye, but Narumi relaxed, even if it was for only a tiniest bit. Somehow the air around him seemed less suffocating, now.

But as your hand slowly inched closer to his forehead, not being able to fight against your desire to just touch him even if it was for a short moment, one of his arms flew up, his hand grasping your wrist in a tight grip. "Narumi, I brought eye drops. Doctor said you overused them quite a bit." you said matter-of-factly, no softness coating your words, your expression emotionless as your eyes finally locked with his. They were bloodshot, red veins weaving themselves over his sclera, while the blueish rings beneath them seemed to have taken on an even darker shade than usual.

The hold on your wrist loosened, a wordless invitation for you to do whatever you had intended to do. Because, yeah, you knew Narumi but the same went the other way around. And if he knew one thing about you, then it was that you were stubborn as hell.

You motioned him do lie back down and soon after that his head hit the softness of his pillow, black and silver strands of hair sprawled over its pillowcase. How long has it been since the last time he had felt the tenderness of your hands? Three? Four months? It has definitely been long enough for him to feel like a terminally ill man who finally seemed to get his salvation.

The gentless with which your fingers combed his bangs out of his face, how they delicately rested along his eyes, not putting too much pressure around the irritated area as you pressed the prescribed amount of droplets out of the little tube. Narumi swore it was not the medication that soothed the uncomfortable itch in his eyes but rather just the simple sight of you.

However, he was aware that letting himself get used to this, to you, would be a fatal mistake.

"That’s enough." he muttered, slapping your hands away as if they could burn him. "Don’t need a damn nurse."

You sighed as you watched him turn on his side, his back facing you. This could have been your cue to simply leave him alone, let him shoulder this burden on his own, but you could not. And you knew that it was selfish because you were obviously not only staying because of Narumi. You were staying because the thought of him being alone right now would hurt you incredibly hard.

"How are you feeling?"

"'M fine. I've also been fine before. The bleeding's stopped. Now go."

"You know that’s not what I meant."

You flinched at the sight of his upper body swiftly shooting up, his bangs falling back into their place and hiding the frown etched on his face. "Why do you care? Huh? I couldn't do anything. Couldn’t save him. So why do you-"

"Because I care about you, Gen. You, not the first division commander." you cut him off, your own composure slowly crumbling as you felt your eyes sting. "Because I know that you liked Isao a lot."

Narumi's chest heaved heavily and he wondered if, in midst of the silence that reigned in the room, you could hear the rapid pounding of his heart, a result of all the anger, sorrow and relief that he felt currently. Anger towards himself, sorrow because that was simply something you felt when you lost someone, and relief because- because of you? He was not sure but that seemed to be the only plausible explanation.

The breathy chuckle vibrating in his chest seemed rather anguished as he flopped back down on his back, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. "You've missed me that badly, huh?" he derided, yet proceeded to scooch over a tiniest bit. Another silent invitation for you.

"You wish." the string of tension hanging between you two seemed to diminish, especially once your head lay beside his, two pairs of eyes now hyperfixating the grey ceiling as if it was the most engrossing thing you've ever witnessed.

"How did the evacuation go?" Narumi asked reluctantly after a beat of slience but received only a light jerk of your shoulders, one of them brushing against his. "That many deaths?"

He had already been looking at you as you turned your head to look into an ocean of red, your own eyes glazing over at the images of all the bodies your troop and you had recovered today from beneath all the ruins and debris that had remained after the destruction of so many buildings. "Way too many."

The reason Narumi's body felt rigid now was not tension, but rather hesitancy. It was just a small gesture of comfort, right? It would not hurt? Maybe a bit ironic since you were the one who had appeared in his room to comfort him, but who was he to give a shit? Warmth creeped through the skin of your palm as you felt him wrap his hand around yours until his fingers weaved themselves through the crevices of your own cold ones.

"Missed me that badly, huh?" you repeated his words, the light crack in your voice, however, drowning the lightheartedness in your words. The fake overly exaggerated laugh emanating from him nearly pulled a smile at your lips, the knot in your chest loosening a tad bit.

"You're insufferable." Narumi muttered defeatedly, the light squeeze you felt around your hand feeling like anything but annoyance or loathing.

"Right. That's why you broke up with me, remember?"

His eyes widened momentarily at your statement. The reason he had broken up with you? Many things annoyed Narumi Gen. Headlines of Ashiro Mina in the news, Hasegawa when he dragged him to unnecessary meetings, people who were only talks without any real actions and strength behind their words- You had never been part of any of these things.

The only thing that had scared him away from you was he himself. He feared all the things that you made him feel; the love that you made him feel for you. He feared becoming too attached and the possibility that your death would not leave him indifferent. For God's sake, neither of you had simple nine to five jobs. Every single day you left your cabins in your suits, you instantly signed a contract that granted you a meeting with Death himself.

But as Narumi noticed your breaths becoming deeper and steadier, his free hand brushing a single strand of your soft hair behind your ear, he realized that life without you was one of the many things that annoyed him. He realized that not having you at all was worse than the constant risk of loosing you, and for once, he was glad that many people had a rather bad image of him. Because he also realized that being selfish had never felt better than now.

#narumi gen #gen narumi #kaiju no.8 #kaiju no. 8 narumi gen #kaiju no. 8 narumi #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #narumi fluff #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 #kn8 narumi #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 imagines

[stxrmylxve]

Hi, I came across your blog while I was checking out fics with the Kazutora tag, and I read a few of your works, and LOVED them! I'm still new to TR, but so far from what I've seen of Kazutora, you really capture him well!

I was wondering if you'd be open to writing something along the lines of Kazutora having a date over for a movie, but he seems like he's trying to keep distance between himself and said date, even to the point that he's left space between them so their legs won't touch. But his date has known him for years, even before he was locked away for 10 years, and really wants tk be close to him, so they scoot closer and lean their head against his shoulder, resting one of their hands on his arm. I'd love to know how you think he would react! I'd be fine with this being either a headcanon or a one-shot, honestly! It's just been on my mind since Tora brainrot settled I'm. 😅 I also wonder how his past self would have reacted, but whether that is written too or not is totally up to you if you do decide to take on this request, since I know he was like...15 during the 2005 timeline.

Regardless of what you decide, I love your work! ❤️

A/N: ahh thank you bb! I’m honored, I don’t get many of these compliments on here and it always brightens my day :) And I don’t mind doing both timelines, enjoy!

Pairing: kazutora x gn!reader

Notes: kinda slight spoilers (of his timeline), tw mentions of panic attack (kazutora), mostly just fluff and comfort

2005-2007 timeline:

“Was juvie harsh?” you ask, the movie almost sounding mute as kazutora looked over at you with wide eyes.

“.. How so?” he counters

“Well, I don’t know. You seem more.. distant.” your eyes wander back to the tv, momentarily taking in the scene before turning back to kazutora to speak once again.

“It’s because I am. Something horrible happened, you can’t just forget things like murder, y/n.” he says a matter of fact, not even sugar coating the unspeakable acts he had committed, regardless of whether he wanted to admit he did or to blame it on someone else again.

A small laugh slipped past your lips as you scooted across the couch and rested your head on his shoulder, taking him by surprise as he peered down at you between his golden locks.

“True, but in some ways, you have become a better man.” you say as your hands rests near his, looking over the many scars scattered along his hands and wrists like ornaments.

“You really think so?” he asks after a while, hesitantly taking your hand into his for the first time in ages.

“Yeah.” you say with a small smile.

2017 (i think) timeline:

The tv’s light flickered in the dark as an awkward kissing scene came on again, making both you y’all cringe and to look other places. Your eyes landed on Kazutora’s slim figure, frowning at the large gap in between you and him.

“How was work?” you ask, trying to pull anything for a small talk as he turned to face you with his golden yet curious eyes.

“Fine, busy.” he replies, his response matching perfectly with the tired eyebags hugging the bottom of his eyes and his slightly slumped-over figure.

Your head tilted sideways slightly as you studied his face. You shruged to yourself before moving over towards him, catching his attention as now he was cornered with you extremely close.

“I don’t have an illness Kazu, loosen up.” you joke, a small laugh escaping your lips as he averted his eyes elsewhere in the room.

“Still hung up on the past, I see.” you sigh as he looks at you again, catching a small dissatisfied glare from you as he too sighed.

“I’m not any different than I was 10 years ago, y/n.” is all he says as he gazes out the window, his eyes not settling on anything in particular just looking away from your eyes that stared him down with that typical mom-look.

“You are. Juvie and everything else aged you well, kazu.” you say hopefully, patting his shoulder as he turned to meet your gaze, small tears forming in his eyes unexpectedly.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Please. Just… move.” he says, almost pleads, as he tries to scoot away himself. Your hands quickly found his as you looked into his eyes with full warmth.

“Hey it’s okay, you’re not hurting me. You didn’t know, remember?” your smile lightened the darkness in him as your gentleness flooded his senses, forcing him to nod as his mind began to slow down again.

Your hand found his and intertwined, a small squeeze coming from your hand to show him that you were actually there for him, a small smile forming on his face. Yeah, you were a keeper.

#gn reader #x gn reader #gn!reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #x reader #tokyo manji revengers #tr kazutora #kazutora x reader #hanemiya kazutora #tokyo revengers kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x you #kazutora fluff #tokrev kazutora #kazutora x y/n #kazutora angst #kazutora tokyo revengers #kazutora imagines #kazutora my beloved #awwww my heart #poor guy #sorry he is just one of my favs #tw panic attack #tw panic disorder #tw panicking #tw panic mention #tokyo revengers spoilers #potential spoilers #just abt his timeline tho

[bella-rose29]

Not Your Lover - Chapter 7

a week late but it's finally here! I had assignments that were kicking my ass all week and for some reason I couldn't get this chapter right for ages (I really wanted it to be right bc its so important)

please don't hate me for what you're about to read

I'm maintaining the idea that Gregor knew the relationship was fake the whole time bc nikolai told him

Series master list

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of assault (from Davor), Nikolai being stupid about relationships, awkward conversations, panic attack, Evalina is a bitch, reader's mother is also a bitch, reader has a lot of doubts about herself, reader's father is a saint, mentions of divorce, reader is being mildly irrational (but at least she's aware of it), trust issues, unhappy ending to the chapter (sorry)

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mrsklockwood, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @simbaaas-stuff

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to/removed from my Nikolai tag list <3

(not my image)

Gregor was startled when Nik came into the shop that morning, given the early hour.

He'd composed himself quickly upon hearing somebody walk in, terrified it would be him again, but when the undercover ex-royal's blond head poked through the doorframe instead, Gregor let out a small sigh of relief.

"You alright? You look a bit... ill," Nik asked, frowning as he stepped into the office.

"I'm fine," he stood a little straighter, still unsure how to act in Nik's presence. It had been a good few weeks since figuring out who his new apprentice was, but Gregor had no idea whether it was impolite to boss around the previous king of Ravka. Nik didn't seem to mind, though, and he really was good with machines. "What are you doing here this early?" He moved around the desk, shuffling papers in the hopes that the other man wouldn't notice how messy the room was.

"I, uh... needed some air. Figured you would be here, so I thought that I would come and see if you needed anything."

"What d'ya need air for? Relationship giving you problems?" Gregor joked, but upon seeing Nik's grimace he stopped laughing. "Shit, really?"

"No. Yeah. No- ugh, I don't know. It's difficult. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oi, don't change the subject on me, boy. Sit. Talk to me." It would take Gregor's mind off of what had happened before Nik walked in. The blond man slumped in a chair, legs sprawling and a hand running tiredly over his face.

"We had sex."

Gregor froze where he stood, not expecting that to be the cause for Nik's stress. "You... you had sex? And now you're, what, hiding?"

"Yes, I'm hiding, because she doesn't know who I am, Gregor, and she has severe trust issues, and I think I might actually have feelings for her!"

"Right..." Gregor lowered himself into his own chair, still processing everything. "So you had sex with your fake girlfriend, and now you think that you've got feelings."

"Yes. Saints, this is horrible."

"Well, it's not brilliant."

"Of course it isn't!"

"So-" Gregor broke off, sighing as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on. "Just... talk to her. I'm sure she'll understand." Nik just stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"You have met Y/n, haven't you? Doesn't like men in general, hates liars, had a very strong opinion on my personality based purely on what I look like?"

"She likes you too, idiot. She'd just rather die before admitting that she's got feelings for somebody again."

"What? She said that?"

"Not directly," Gregor shrugged, delighting in the way that the younger man sat up eagerly. "But she talks about you a lot, and she doesn't always have a demonic gleam in her eye like she wants to kill you when she does so. Besides, she's tolerated your presence a lot longer than she would if she didn't like you that way."

"Really? That still doesn't mean she won't react badly though. You know her, Gregor, she's not going to wrap me in a hug and ask me to marry her for lying to her face for weeks. I've gained her trust, and she's going to feel like I've broken it, and then she'll think that I'm like Davor, and I can't have her think I'm like him, because he's awful, and-"

"Alright! Take a breath, yeah? Look. At some point, she's gonna find out that you've been... obscuring certain parts of your life, yeah?" Nik nodded. "So she might as well find out from you, and it might as well happen very soon, because otherwise she will literally never talk to you again. Now, you've got it going for you that you have a genuine reason for not openly advertising who you really are, and from what I can tell, your intentions are good. Davor was an asshole- well, he still is, to be honest," Gregor swallowed, moving on quickly. "You at least are a good guy, yeah? So hopefully Y/n won't hate you for too long."

"Okay. I'll tell her later. Oh Saints, this won't be pretty, will it?"

"Not likely, no. But it's gotta be done, yeah?"

"Thank you, Gregor. Really." He nodded, smiling gently at Nik. They sat in silence for a while, Gregor staring mindlessly out the window and Nik with his hands over his face. "Did somebody break in?" Nik's voice was suddenly too loud in the office, and Gregor stiffened.

"Why?"

"Your paperwork is messier than usual. And the picture frame is wonky." Nik pointed to the photo of Gregor as a child, his parents and siblings surrounding him. He was right; it had been knocked. "Gregor... did something happen?"

"No. Nothing that matters. It's fine." He pushed out of the armchair, moving toward the door to the rest of the shop. Nik followed, springing up to stop him before he could leave and placing a hand on his arm. The action made Gregor flinch, and Nik took his hand back, concern clear on his face.

"Seriously, what happened?"

"Davor. He uh- he came in before you got here. Wanted to know stuff about you, asking questions about who you are. I didn't tell him anything, you know how good I am at keeping secrets, but he pushed me against that wall, that's why the picture's off. I'm fine, promise." Nik cursed under his breath, and Gregor looked down at his shoes. He was a grown man, for fuck's sake. Why was he scared of somebody thirty years younger than him? It was embarrassing, how threatened he felt, but he couldn't help it.

"Hey," Nik's voice was soft, and Gregor felt ashamed at the feel of tears on his cheeks. "I'll see what he wants, okay? See if I can get him out the town, yeah? If I really have to I'll write to the palace and come up with some grand masterplan to have him sent away to the Southern Colonies or something."

"You don't need to do that, Nik. It's alright. I'm fine."

"You keep saying that, but you're clearly not. If he's threatened you then I'm going to find out what it is he's after, okay? He needs to know that he can't keep doing this." Gregor met Nik's eyes, the sight slightly blurry from his tears but the sincerity in his gaze clear as anything. Gregor had never really understood how an entire country could put their trust in one man like they had with Nikolai when he was king, but seeing the determination and promise in his eyes, Gregor knew that Nikolai would do what he said.

It was a shame, really, that rumours had a tendency to ruin things. Nikolai would most certainly have been the best King that Ravka ever had.

~~~

When Y/n woke up, she frowned at the lack of warmth in the hotel room.

It didn't come as much of a surprise, given the incredibly shitty temperature control in the hotel and the fire dying out overnight, but usually she woke up on Nik's chest, his body heat keeping her warm.

Instead the bed was empty, and his clothes were gone.

Blinking the last of the sleep away, Y/n took deep breaths, hoping that Nik had simply gone to get breakfast, or was needed by Gregor. She stubbornly refused to listen to the voice in her head that was telling her that he was just like Davor, and pushed back the covers to get dressed.

A few minutes later footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the door was pushed open slowly (clearly trying not to disturb anyone) followed by Nik entering the room. "Oh, you're awake."

"Yeah. Not been up long. Where have you been?" It was awkward, an obvious tension in the air. Y/n was also stubbornly refusing to remember the night before.

"Went to see Gregor. Davor visited him, threatened him. I'm going to go and talk to him in a bit. Oh, I got breakfast, too." He passed over a brown paper bag, and Y/n recognised it as one of hers from the bakery.

"Thanks," she replied, internally wincing at the silence that followed. "I should... I should head to work."

"Yeah, of course." He moved to the side, freeing up the doorway. Y/n paused on her way out, one hand holding the door open, the other clutching the bag for dear life.

"Should- maybe- are we...? Should we talk?" She could feel her face heat up, and to her relief Nik started blushing too. At least she wasn't the only one flustered by the events of last night.

"Uh, yeah? Yes, talking would be good." Y/n let go of the door, angling her body towards his. "Oh, you mean now? Okay."

"Would you rather... talk later? I just thought-"

"No, no, now is fine, I- You said you needed to- never mind. Uh, what did you want to talk about?" He winced, clearly unhappy with how he'd just handled that, and Y/n stifled a snort.

"Just, you know. We're not meant to be actually dating, but last night was... Well, I don't know that I can fake date you anymore, Nik." He stared at her, and suddenly the slight confession felt silly.

"What- what are you trying to say? That you want to- to date for real?"

"I guess? I don't know, this is confusing for me, okay?" Y/n felt herself smiling. "I think I might actually have feeli-"

"Don't." Nik's voice was rough, and her smile faded. "You don't... you don't know me, and I'm scared that you'll hate me for it." He sounded strangled, like it was causing him physical pain to say the words, and Y/n's heart plummeted in her chest.

"So tell me, Nik. Tell me, because I want to know! And I hate myself for letting you in when I told myself I wouldn't fall for anybody again, but you and your persistent personality wriggled their way into my life and now I don't know that I can go without you, so tell me." He looked pained, and paler than usual. "Please," she whispered, barely registering how desperate she sounded. When he didn't speak for a while, Y/n gave up, turning to leave. "I've got to get to work, but I'll see you later at the mansion, right? We've only got seven days left now." Nik nodded, and Y/n sighed as she closed the door behind her. Her stomach growled and she opened the bag, peering inside.

He'd got her favourite.

~~~

Nikolai Lantsov could talk himself out of any situation, and could manipulate every conversation to his advantage, but somehow he'd managed to lose that ability when Y/n had walked in to his life.

He wished he could go back to hating her, because that was so much easier than loving her.

He hadn't missed the way that she implied that she'd fallen in love with him, but knowing that he'd been lying to her about his identity for the past three weeks made him feel guilty for being pleased that she reciprocated his feelings. He told himself that he'd tell her everything later that day, when they were in the mansion so that it was just the two of them, and the unease at not knowing how she would react crept up his spine and sat heavy on his mind.

He turned a corner, boots coming into contact with the wooden planks of the docks. He'd shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the sea breeze as he scanned for Davor.

"Can I help you?"

Whirling around, Nikolai saw the very man he was searching for, and he wondered where the hell he'd appeared from. "I was looking for you, actually. Heard you paid a visit to Gregor this morning, asking about me?"

"Yeah."

Nikolai resisted the urge to slap his palm to his forehead, or scream in frustration at the monosyllabic answer. Or to do both. "What did you want to know? You could have just asked me, you know. You don't have to go around threatening people." Davor shrugged.

"Would you really tell me what I wanted to know?"

"Depends on what it is," Nikolai cracked a smile, internally praising the man for using a long sentence for once.

"Why are you pretending to date Y/n?" Nikolai hid his shock, pushing the demon down in his mind when it rose up in outrage.

"I'm not," he replied slowly, letting confusion lace his features and a disbelieving laugh come out. "Why do you think that we're faking it? Are you jealous that she's moved on?"

"You are faking it, I know you are." Davor smiled then, but Nikolai hadn't seen anything less joyful since the Darkling. It was cold and cruel, and he suppressed a shudder. "I have proof." Nikolai's mind was racing, trying to think of anything that Davor could have seen or heard to draw that conclusion, and he tried to not let the panic show on his face.

"Well," he said, allowing an incredulous smile to appear. "I'd love to know what it is!" That was the key: don't let anybody see how you really felt. Let them think that you have the upper hand, that you believe that your version of it is the truth, and then the situation is yours to handle.

"I don't think so. I'm talking to Y/n's mother in a bit. In the square. Everybody will know that you're fakes, using this stupid excuse for her stupid dream. Seven days, right? Time's a-ticking, Dominik. I'll see you in the square?" He turned and walked off back towards the town centre, and Nikolai could only stare after him, fear creeping up his spine.

No no no no no, he thought, panicking. This isn't good.

~~~

Y/n had been taking her lunch break when it all went to shit.

She'd barely been out the shop for five minutes when she saw Davor talking to her mother, and immediately she knew that whatever it was couldn't have been good. None of that was helped by the mildly disastrous conversation that she'd had with Nik that morning, and now she didn't know where she stood with him.

She'd frozen upon seeing the two of them, causing people wandering around in the busy marketplace to bump in to her, frowning slightly when they did so. Her throat started closing up, her chest tightening and making it difficult to breath, and her breaths came much shorter and sharper than normal. Now people were frowning for a different reason, some looking like they wanted to help but not entirely sure what to do, and others frowning because she was starting to make a scene. Y/n barely registered them though, unable to tear her eyes away from Davor and her mother. Everything was too close and too far away all at once, and was the world spinning? Fuck, she needed to move, to get out, to leave, but her body wouldn't let her. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, whether it was two seconds or two hours, but she did notice when a figure blocked out the sun and wrapped her in his arms, murmuring softly in her ear that 'it's alright, darling' as one hand stroked her back and the other tangled in her hair. Eventually her breathing matched his, and each breath she took smelt entirely of Nik, and she pulled her head away from his chest.

"What happened, darling?" he asked, voice quiet and gentle as he moved the hand in her hair to cup her cheek instead, thumb brushing away the tears that had slipped out.

"Da-" she coughed, her voice rough. "Davor. He's talking to my mother." Nik's eyes widened, and he whipped his head around to follow her gaze.

"Shit. Okay. I spoke to him, just now, he thinks this is fake and he seems to be sure that he has proof."

"W-What?" The tears threatened to fall again, everything too fragile and likely to break at any moment. Nik hadn't moved his hands and she was glad for it; the action kept her grounded. He glanced around, biting his lip as he furrowed his brow in thought before moving them over to a quiet spot.

"We need to figure out what's going on with us," he started.

"Yeah, no shit. I mean, how are we meant to convince people that we're in a relationship if we ourselves don't fucking know?" He sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Ok, then let's talk." He stared at her expectantly, but Y/n only stared back.

"You're the one that needs to talk, Nik. I think I've made myself clear enough. I want to date you, for real, and I want to know you. If you don't want that then tell me now and we'll figure something else out."

"I'm afraid, alright? I'm afraid that if you know the truth, you'll hate me, and you won't want to be with me."

"So... does that mean that... you do want to be with me?"

"Saints, of course I do. I'd be an idiot to not want to wake up with you every morning, or fall asleep next to you every night. To not want to be the one holding your hand, or kissing you, or to be the one that you love. I just- I know how you felt about me when we first met, and I know that Davor really fucked your view of men, and I don't want to be the reason that gets worse."

Y/n didn't reply for a while, and Nik started to look worried that she was going to agree with him, and tell him to leave and never talk to her again.

Before she could respond, having looked up and seen his concerned expression, Evalina appeared.

"I hear you're single, handsome," the woman purred, and Nik visibly cringed away from her. She cast a look at Y/n, sneering as she grabbed Nik's arm.

"No, I'm not," he said, voice hard.

"Well word is that you two are faking it." Another sneer. "So I think that means you're here for the taking." She was winding her fingers up his arm, and Y/n couldn't bear to watch anymore. She shoved Evalina away, taking Nik's arm defensively.

"Stay the fuck away from him." She vaguely noted the shock on the other woman's face, and the glare on her own, and before she had time to think about anything she'd marched off in the direction of the mansion, leaving Nik behind.

~~~

"Dominik? Could we have a word?" Y/m/n called out, and Nikolai wanted to punch something. He needed to follow Y/n, and figure out what their plan was, but her mother was very insistent and wouldn't let him leave. "Now. Davor here tells me that you and my daughter were faking a relationship so that she could spend council money and do up the mansion."

"That's a lie," Nikolai growled, and he felt the demon stir.

"Well I think that Davor is more believable than you, Dominik." Nikolai's laugh was humourless, and he looked between the two of them. Y/m/n was smug, thinking that she had the upper hand, and Davor was... well Davor was impassive as always, but for the glint in his eye that seemed somewhat sharper than normal.

"I'm sorry, you actually believe him over your own daughter?"

"Y/n hasn't been a good daughter for a while now, not since she met you. Davor was always good to her, so yes, I'll believe him over her any day." Nikolai could only stare in horror at the woman. How could she despise her own daughter that much?

"Fuck you," he said, turning on his heel. He wasn't going to waste his time talking to her when she wasn't going to care about a word he said.

"Excuse me?"

"I said fuck you. Have you ever stopped to think about her, or was it always about what you wanted?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She looked outraged, and Nikolai thought she didn't have any right to do so.

"You've fucking destroyed her, do you know that? She hates you for what you've done, and you will never fix that. You've pushed so hard for Y/n to be what you want her to be and you have never once considered what she wants to be. You have never asked what her dreams are, her goals, her aspirations. You don't listen to her when you need to, because you are already busy thinking about how to convince her to do what you want, and she hates you for it. And if either of you go near either of us again, I will fucking ruin you, okay? Because I love her, and I will not let you destroy her again." He left them behind, not caring that he'd finished by shouting, and went in search of Y/n.

~~~

Everything sucked.

Y/n blamed it entirely on Davor, of course, since he was the reason she couldn't trust men properly, and Nik was so good and wonderful that it hurt that she couldn't express her fears about being in a relationship with him. It's not that she didn't want to; Saints, she hadn't wanted anything this much since the mansion when she was a kid, but there was so much that could go wrong or hurt her more than Davor hurt her, and she'd promised herself that she wouldn't let her heart be shattered again.

She'd been about to tell him all of that, tell him that she was afraid too, but by the Saints she wanted to try, when Evalina appeared, and then the doubts about whether Nik would always stay with Y/n or move on to somebody better, somebody prettier, crept in, and she couldn't bear the knowledge that she would always have competition making her feel like she wasn't enough and had left.

Shoving Evalina had felt good though.

Now Y/n was hiding in the mansion, which wasn't terribly effective as a hiding spot since she spent a lot of her time in the building and it was probably the first place that anybody would look for her, but it calmed her. A soft knock on the door startled her slightly, and when she looked up she expected to see Nik.

"Dad?"

"Hey, thought I might find you here. What's going on?" He came and sat down next to her on the floor, pulling her into his side and stroking her back while she cried into his shirt. Y/n explained everything: how she and Nik had faked the relationship so that her mother would give her the grant for the building and so that Nik could stop worrying about being grabbed by Evalina and the other women in town, how she'd hated him at first but loved him now, and he felt the same, and how she thought she would always be scared that it would only be a matter of time before Nik realised that he was better off without her and left. When she'd finished, her tears had long since dried, and her voice was hoarse from crying.

"I just don't know what to do, Dad. Because I know Nik, and I know he's not Davor, but he's right. Davor did really fuck with my view of men and I don't know how to fix that."

"I think you just need to tell him how you feel, love. He's a good guy, I know he is, and I'm sure that he'll understand and he'll want to help you- don't you look at me like that, you need somebody to help you. I don't care if you're an independent woman because people, no matter what, need somebody that loves them unconditionally, and Nik is that somebody for you."

"You mean that?"

"Absolutely. Please, just tell him all of this."

"Okay. I'll go find him," Y/n sniffled, wiping her face and standing up.

"Atta girl." Her father had stood up too, and was dusting off his trousers. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"I uh, I don't want you to think that it's your fault, at all," he started, expression earnest. "But, well..."

"Spit it out, Dad," she joked.

"I'm divorcing your mother."

Y/n could only stare at him in shock, not entirely sure where this was coming from. Her mother might be a bitch but she at least thought that her parents loved each other. "What? Why?"

"Because we haven't loved each other for a few years now. I don't think I ever realised that until I saw you with Nik, but it's true. You look at each other like you're looking at the person that hung the stars, and it's beautiful. But I haven't looked at your mother like that for some time now, and I am quite sure that she is the same. Besides, she's been a colossal bitch to you the past month, and you're my sun, alright?" Y/n let out a wet laugh at the last part, and was startled to realise that she was crying again, the tears silently slipping down her cheeks. "Now. You go find that boy of yours, yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around her father. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Y/n."

~~~

Nikolai was shitting himself.

Not literally, of course, but he might as well be with the amount of nerves coursing through his body right now. He'd managed to get the last word in earlier when talking to Y/m/n and Davor, but apparently people had overheard the topic of their conversation and rumours spread like wildfire in this town, people already questioning the legitimacy of their relationship. He made his way into the mansion just as Y/f/n was leaving, and when he saw Y/n stood in the middle of the front room wiping the last of her tears away his heart clenched.

"... Are you... okay?" He wasn't sure she wanted him here, given how quickly she'd left earlier, but her responding hug put him slightly more at ease.

"Not really," she said, although it was muffled since her face was pressed into his chest. "I'm glad you're here though, Nik. Really really glad." He brought his arms around her, holding her tightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut with a frown.

"I have to tell you something," he said, voice quiet and filled with fear. Y/n lifted her head to look up at him, and seeing her soft smile he felt queasy.

"What is it, Nik?" When he only opened and closed his mouth a few times, strangled noises coming out instead of words, she tried again. "Dominik?" Y/n was the one frowning now, clearly unsure why he was acting so strangely, and the use of his supposed full name made his decision easier.

"That's not... that's not my name." He was looking anywhere but at her, swallowing thickly and tensing his muscles repeatedly for any hope of distraction, but her own body stiffening against his wouldn't let him concentrate on anything else.

"What do you mean that's not your name?" she asked slowly.

"It's-" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a few steps back. "My name isn't Dominik, it's Nikolai."

"Wha- what are you going on about?"

"I can't keep lying to you about who I am, Y/n, not if I want to properly date you. You said you wanted to know me, right?" She nodded, although the action was distant. "Well, this is me," he spread his arms out and then let them drop back to his sides, desperation starting to creep in to his body language. "I'm Nikolai, not Dominik, and my last name isn't Opus, either. It's Lantsov. Or Opjer, I'm not actually sure. But I'm Nikolai Lantsov, the previous King of Ravka."

Y/n froze, clearly unsure how to respond.

---

Of all the things she thought that he would say, it hadn't been anywhere near that. "W- you- what?"

"I'm Nikol-"

"No I got that, I'm just... very confused. Why the fuck would you hide that? You're being serious, right? This isn't a joke?"

"It's not a joke, I'm being completely serious. And I know that I've lied to you about who I am-"

"Yeah, no shit!"

"-but I did it to start over, to have a new life, and also because there is a very high sum of money on my head in foreign nations and I quite like it attached to my neck! And I'm sorry, okay? But when you said this morning that-" he gasped, running out of air. "When you said this morning that you wanted to date for real I couldn't do that without telling you the truth, because I know how you feel about liars and people that look like me, okay? And I'm telling you now because I need to know if there is any possible chance that you'll still have me, because I have fallen completely and irrevocably in love with you, Y/n. So please, if there is any chance, I'll take it." He'd moved closer to her during his speech, arms gesturing wildly as he went on, and he was close enough that she could reach up and kiss him if she wanted to.

Instead she stepped back, expression blank as she tried to figure out which emotion to wear. She vaguely registered Nik's- Nikolai's pained face, and her own head shaking as she brought a hand up to her mouth.

"I- I can't- what?" The last word was quiet, her voice breaking as she tried not to cry. She didn't want to; he had a logical reason for not telling the truth, and he felt the same as her, Saints damn it, but some irrational part of her told her that he was lying about other things too, and it would only be a matter of time before he was lying about loving her. It was ridiculous, how badly Davor still affected her, and she really thought that she could change with Nik, but apparently not. She did want him, like she wanted air, but right now it was too much, and she felt like her lungs would burst from the pressure. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears pricking at her eyes as she turned away. "I can't... I don't know... I can't do this right now," she sobbed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She felt Nik's hand on her shoulder, light and fleeting before it disappeared and took his warmth with it. Dimly Y/n registered his words.

"That's okay. I'll wait."

Chapter 8

#I'm so sorry #i'm evil for this ending i'm sorry #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

[underratedandoverit]

You Wanna Wish Away Your Sins (3/3)

After losing to Best Friends at Arcade Anarchy, Kip undergoes shoulder surgery. One person reaching out to him afterwards sends Kip spiraling, turning all the pain and suffering in him into… Flowers? Flowers growing in his lungs?

Kip Sabian/Chuck Taylor. Hanahaki disease. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Emotional hurt/comfort. One-sided attraction. Also tagged this from now on with manipulative Kip.

Marked Mature on AO3 for general content. Warnings for mentions of hospitals, surgery, medical stuff. Described feelings for choking and vomiting.

Other characters on-screen include Penelope Ford, Orange Cassidy. Rest of Best Friends are mentioned. Background ship of Penelope/Kris is heavily implied, but never specifically shown.

part 1 || part 2

On AO3

Finishing this took way longer than I intended. Oops. Mental illness and whatever be damned yada yada. But it's over now. And I am content. It's a whole fic and ended just as I wanted and had planned, surprisingly no surprises during writing lol. I hope it makes sense, there's a little bit there that doesn't get explained, but I have convinced myself that people can put the pieces together considering the mental state Kip is in and how the hanahaki disease works so. Yeah.

If you have read this far, thank you so much, I really appreciate you and your patience if you have waited for this to finish since I originally posted in early September. I see all the kudos and subs attached, they mean the world to me. Would love to hear your thoughts of this now that it's over, as there was a lot of time (obviously lol) and love put into this, so it would mean a lot ;; But I appreciate you all so much either way, thank you for sticking by and reading!! 💜💜

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate @ss-trashboat

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

Kip tried to keep his eyes on the television, but he wasn’t registering anything he saw on the screen. Even if he was technically interested in watching the game that was being played, Kip would have much rather been looking at something else. Or someone else. That someone being the man sitting on the couch next to him, being much more into the activity of playing a video game that he was partaking in that Kip was.

While he was glad that Chuck was coming over far more often these days, at the same time it did grind Kip’s mind that they had fallen into this false routine of a casual friendship. Chuck would appear on his doorstep, bring a movie or a game with him for them to busy themselves with that day, maybe some snacks and energy drinks, and the rest of the day they would just hang out, consume the media of the day, and that would be it.

Same talking points every single day. Sitting in the silently designated spots on the couch just far enough from one another that even by accident their hands wouldn’t brush against each other unless they were passing the food and drinks around. Eye contact was brief, almost uncomfortably so if it managed to exist in the first place, and only when one got up from the couch and asked if the other needed something or something similarly surprising happened. Maybe a laugh could gather a quick glance, maybe a sneeze, a cough. And even then it was more often Chuck doing that to Kip, while Kip was trying to steal looks into his direction any chance he could, hoping Chuck would catch a hint.

It had been days, weeks even, maybe. How many, Kip had lost a count somewhere after the first few days, partially because of the pain he was going through, partially because he still found the whole situation so absurd. But the thing he knew for sure, was that it had been too many for comfort.

Every time Kip watched Chuck walk out the door of his house again at the end of the day, his breathing became a little bit tighter, the stabbing pain in his chest more prominent, the sleep during that following night a little shorter.

He was so tired of it all, and with every day that passed him by, it was pushing Kip closer to the realization that he finally had to do something about things. Before the pain was too paralyzing, before the thoughts became too much. Before he just couldn’t do anything about it anymore, before it was all too late.

“…Hey? Kip?”

The Brit blinked blankly a few times, finally registering the voice calling out to him after the words had been repeated a few times. His eyes slowly dragged away from the television screen, facing the brunet sitting on the couch next to him, Chuck looking at him with worry and concern. It was almost adorable to Kip how his brows furrowed and eyes darted around his facial features in clear worry. Almost.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Chuck sighed, Kip trying to offer him an apologetic smile as he watched Chuck running a hand through his hair, eyes turning away from the other man again as he shook his head a little. Kip had been too deep in his own head, with his own thoughts to notice Chuck had even tried to talk to him, the guilt almost immediately gnawing on him at the mere thought. He was supposed to try to pay attention to him, to try to make Chuck realize the situation, how close they were, to understand his feelings, to close the gap, to --

“I just wanted to know if you were hungry. We could order something in, maybe. If you’d like.”

For once Kip was thankful that Chuck wasn’t looking straight at him, his cheeks flushing red for a brief moment as he registered the words. Ordering food? Together? At his place, like this, out of the blue? For the first time?

It almost sounded like a date night proposal in Kip’s ears.

He quickly shook the thought from his head, turning away from Chuck to make sure he didn’t even by accident catch a glimpse of the blush decorating his face, desperately trying to not have the words caught in his throat, only partially succeeding.

“Ye-yeah that would be great.”

Chuck was so sincere about this question, just like he always was about everything, he was probably just hungry himself, and Kip was overthinking it all. Once again. But also, what if…

“Great. What would you like to eat?” Chuck’s words cut Kip’s thought process off again, his eyes slowly returning to the other man, watching Chuck pull his phone out of his pocket, eyes landing onto it, seemingly to avoid eye contact with Kip, who just shrugged a little. “I don’t know. Whatever sounds good.”

Chuck’s brows furrowed, suddenly looking back at Kip, making the Brit jump a little. This wasn’t the kind of reaction Kip had expected to his words, swallowing a little surprise lump in his throat as all of a sudden he was very unsure again where this was going. He hated nothing more than the unpredictable nature of their relationship, not being able to read Chuck at moments like this, mostly due to his own emotions and thoughts clouding his judgment and understanding of what the situation called for from him.

“…Okay, I’m going to be fully honest with you.”

The suddenly rather serious tone of Chuck’s voice made Kip’s eyes widen a little, he could feel his whole body tensing up at the sudden shift. Chuck offered him a small smile, most likely in hopes of trying to calm down Kip’s very obviously surprised demeanor, but seeing that smile just made Kip’s whole mind skip another beat instead.

“I’ve been worried about you recently. I actually talked with Penelope yesterday after I left, and she feels much the same way as I do.”

Chuck? Worried? About him? Chuck? Kip’s head was spinning, but he just nodded his head, not even acknowledging the fact that Chuck was also talking about Penelope being involved in this. All Kip cared about was that Chuck was thinking about him, outside of this room, outside of this couch, when he wasn’t around.

Chuck was thinking, and talking, about him.

“You’ve been… Seemingly getting worse each day I see you. You lack sleep, you lack food, you lack energy. I understand you are in a lot of pain with the shoulder and all, but you need to take care of yourself, Kip. Mine and Penelope’s help will only get you so far.”

Kip just looked at him quietly, trying to process the statement in his head, but all his thoughts retracted back to the overall realization that Chuck was worried about him. Thinking about him. That Chuck at least seemed to care more than he led on directly to him, at least before this very moment at hand.

“If there’s something wrong that you need help with, other than what we have been providing so far, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask, you know?”

Kip felt his head nodding itself, despite not approving of the movement in his mind. He was running on a practiced autopilot, still afraid that one casual movement might fuck all this up for him, not being the kind of response that Chuck wanted. This seemed to be enough for the brunet for now though as Chuck nodded back at him, eyes slowly returning to the phone in his hand. Right, he was ordering food. Right.

“So, again: what do you want to eat today? You can get anything you want, as long as it makes you eat. We just want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

At the same time it was endearing that Chuck was doing this for him, but Kip also knew he had to put a stop to this, all of it. While yes his current and constantly worsening condition was making him neglect his own basic needs, both which directly as a result affected his appetite and energy levels, Kip knew that trying to eat some proper food one day wasn’t the answer to his problems. Above all else, his condition was making it not only difficult to breathe, but the pain in his chest and particularly in his lungs made eating at this point a near impossible task.

As the silence from the Brit continued, Chuck glanced towards him, spotting Kip just looking back at him. Whether he was deep in thought or just staring, Chuck wasn’t quite sure.

“Kip?”

“I’m not hungry.”

At least it wasn’t a lie in a sense. Chuck raised a brow at him, slowly lowering the hand holding his phone onto his lap, eyes narrowing a little. Chuck’s eyes lingered on him just a little bit too long, forcing Kip to look away, back towards the television with the frozen game pause screen on it.

“You need to eat something.”

“Food can’t fix this.”

Kip could feel the confusion radiating from Chuck’s face, probably his entire being at this point, but he just couldn’t look back at him. It was so much easier for Kip to process his thoughts if he wasn’t looking at what he was sure was a very worried expression on the brunet sitting on the couch a few feet away from him.

He heard Chuck sigh. Not a very good sign.

“If you eat something, you get energy. You feel better. I shouldn’t need to explain all this to you. Kip, please --”

“This isn’t about food.”

Chuck fell silent as Kip cut him off, probably a bit more aggressively than necessary, but he was tired of this. All of this. Both his inability to do anything about the situation even though he desperately, so very desperately needed it, and the way they both seemed to just dance around the topic and the issues at hand. To Kip, Chuck offering to order him food was nothing but a detour that he couldn’t afford to wait to take to where he eventually needed to be. Kip had suffered long enough, mostly due to his own faults, yes, but Chuck jumping in to push his buttons like this, while a step in the right direction, wasn’t a fast enough track to where they needed to be.

Where Kip needed to be if he wanted to make it through all of this, it seemed like.

“…Are you mad at me?”

Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, but he still didn’t turn to look towards Chuck. All he heard was another quiet sigh.

“I don’t know how many times I can apologize for what happened. You know it was an accident. I’m sorry --”

“I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t care about that.”

If something, it was supposed to be Kip who apologized for everything, and he knew that painfully well.

“Then what is it?”

Kip swallowed thickly, being absolutely certain that Chuck could not only see it but also hear him do it. Kip’s eyes slowly dragged back to him, watching the confusion all over the brunet’s face. If the situation wasn’t so dire and heavy, Kip would have found the look on him endearing. Right now though, seeing Chuck not put the pieces together so easily, filled him with dread instead, along with the knowledge that Kip knew exactly what he needed to do next and the can of worms that he needed to open if he ever wanted to have a shot at things getting better again.

“I need…” Kip stopped, the confusion on Chuck’s face slowly melting into a more expecting look. Both of them were still clearly hesitant, Chuck not knowing what to expect out of him and Kip not being so sure how he was going to phrase this so it made even some sort of sense.

Just say it.

“I… I need you to kiss me.”

The silence that fell into the room felt like it was knocking all the remaining air out of Kip. The longer he looked at Chuck and the unreadable look lingering on his face after the words slipped out of Kip’s mouth, the worse he felt about everything. For once he was being honest about this entire situation and what he wanted out of it, and yet it felt like a worse mistake than anything he had lied to Chuck about so far.

He wanted this. He needed this. This was the trigger Kip had been so afraid to pull for so long now, but he knew that if he didn’t finally say those words, no matter the reaction, it would have terrible consequences for him. He was already suffering, the roots of his problem crawling deeper into his lungs every single day he put it off without even trying to make anything out of it. Kip was tired of it, he was suffering immensely because of it, he just needed to do something. Anything.

After what felt like forever of Chuck just staring at him, Kip was snapped out of his thoughts as Chuck took in a sharp breath, the only way Kip was able to describe his expression being polite confusion.

“You, uh… You what?”

Not sure if Chuck was just making sure or if he really hadn’t understood the statement, Kip bit his lower lip as he turned away from the other man. He inhaled slowly, preparing himself to say those words again. Kip did it once, he could do it again. It was a necessary step forward.

“I-I need. To kiss you. You to kiss me. So-something like that.”

As Chuck didn’t reply for a while, Kip stole a quick glance towards him, trying to gather an overview of the situation. Much to his surprise, Chuck looked like he was in deep thought for a second, as if he was pondering over the request. At least he wasn’t outright denying it from Kip, which in turn as he realized it, made his heart jump back into his throat.

The burning as Kip nervously waited for an answer was worse than the thorns poking inside of his lungs at the moment.

“Would that help? Make you feel better?”

Kip nodded almost instantly, the motion almost frantic, something he couldn’t control. Still clearly in his thoughts, Chuck nodded as well.

“I mean,” he muttered, a hand slowly reaching closer to Kip, the Brit’s focus turning on it with slightly widening eyes, “If… If it helps. I guess.”

Kip watched his hand stopping to hover close to him, slowly his own hand reaching for it. He could feel Chuck’s fingers gently wrapping around his hand, giving it a little tuck, an invitation to come closer. Kip followed suit, shifting over on the couch to slowly make his way to sit down right next to Chuck. For the first time since they had started doing this, for the first time since Chuck had started to spend the days over to keep him company. There had always been a cold, untouched gap between the two of them on the couch, but this was the first time it had been broken, filled, fixed.

And all it took was a small request that Kip should have been able to do in the first place, but it took him weeks and actual concern from Chuck to get to this point.

But there he was now, Chuck still gently holding his hand, running this thumb over his knuckles. A soft, still kind of unsure smile crossing his lips as he was looking Kip straight in the eyes. Chuck clearly wasn’t budging back on this, honestly much to Kip’s surprise, as his free hand slowly crept up to the Brit’s face, palm pressing against his cheek. Chuck’s hand was surprisingly cold against his flushed skin.

“…You sure?”

It was almost as if Chuck was asking that from himself more than Kip, but he pushed the thought aside, just nodding his head again. Without another word, Chuck leaned closer, finally closing the gap that had been antagonizing Kip these past few weeks without remorse, locking their lips together.

The kiss was awkward and hesitant at first, but slowly it felt more natural as they both seemed to relax into it. Soft and homey, but Kip could taste his own desperation in it despite all of it. He knew how badly he not only wanted, but needed this. While he could have joked that it was the matter of life and death, to him it was actually no joke, but merely the cruel reality he barely understood himself at all. Feeling Chuck’s lips finally against his, after the excruciatingly long amount of time of craving and needing nothing more than to taste him so desperately he was suffering from the withdrawals more and more every day, Kip’s mind went blank. He could feel Chuck close, hear his breathing, slowly allowing himself to enjoy it, running a thumb over Kip’s cheek.

Kip had been waiting for this moment for so long, craving for this so badly, that he needed more now that he finally had it, pushing the boundaries first as he found himself without a single coherent thought giving a small bite on Chuck’s lower lip, a silent, desperate request for a deeper kiss. A deeper meaning.

A request that was granted to him, but was also almost immediately and far too fast ripped away from him as Chuck suddenly jolted away, as if he had suddenly in the midst of all of this realized what he was doing and thought better of it.

Eyes opening as Kip felt the hand disappear from his face, he leaned slightly back, watching in emotions swimming in disappointment and confusion as Chuck’s eyes were suddenly on his phone again, the piece of tech buzzing on his lap, suddenly demanding his attention. Almost as if it was mocking Kip and how close he had finally gotten.

“So-sorry, I have to take this.”

Kip just nodded, feeling the body heat of the other man disappearing from around him as Chuck’s hand left his, grabbing a hold of the phone before he stood up, answering the sudden call. He could still salvage this, it wasn’t all lost. Chuck hadn’t denied him this, by the way he was acting it was obvious to Kip that this wasn’t just all in his head. Maybe the kiss had been brief, but there was compassion behind it, he was very gentle about it, there --

“What do you mean that was today?”

Kip’s eyes slowly traveled up to Chuck, watching the brunet run a hand over his face as he sighed. “Yeah I know, I know you need me there for that, just… I was kinda in the middle of something…”

The silence that followed that statement and the way Chuck couldn’t look back at Kip made a familiar lump climb its way back in his throat. Kip tried to cough it out quietly, not to attract attention to himself, just watching as Chuck stepped a little bit further away from him.

“I can be there in twenty minutes, I guess. …Alright, I’ll see you then.”

As he hung up the call, Chuck didn’t even need to say anything. He was sure Kip had heard most of it, and the apologetic eyes and the small smile he offered to him as he finally turned back towards the Brit really didn’t help the case.

“Sorry, I completely forgot we had a photoshoot to do today, I… I gotta go.”

Kip nodded his head, but remained silent as he stood up from the couch. At least this was a start, they were going somewhere. He had put at least part of his desires out there, for Chuck to reach out and react to, if nothing else. This was a beginning, hopefully for the better. Kip wasn’t sure how fast he was supposed to be feeling the effects of his love and affections being returned to him, but so far he was blaming the sick feeling in his throat on the sudden change of pace in the room rather than Chuck not returning his feelings like before.

Maybe he had read all of this wrong. Maybe the sickness had caught up with him just because he didn’t know this was mutual. That had to be it, right?

Kip walked him to the door, Chuck turning back to him again as he rested his hand on the door handle.

“Look, I’m really sorry I have to go, I just completely forgot about this. You know, with having to worry about you and all.”

Kip could feel a smile tucking the corner of his lips, allowing at least a part of it to show. As sad as he was having to watch Chuck walk away yet again without a resolution to this whole problem, at least there was hope. Chuck smiled back at him, leaning closer to press a quick little peck on Kip’s lips, catching the Brit off guard, leaving him looking back at him with wide eyes as Chuck opened the door, stepping outside.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, alright?”

Kip could only nod before Chuck closed the door, leaving him standing there, heart racing and beating loudly between his ears. Kip leaned against the closed door, inhaling deeply before he sighed, the content smile on his lips only wiped away as he coughed softly, eyes shooting open to witness the handful of purple tinted rose petals he let out of his mouth.

No.

Chuck Taylor still didn’t love him.

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

“…Are you sure it’s him?”

Cassidy shrugged his shoulders a little. “I mean, who else could it be? Besides, he has photos of himself that he signs and hands out and a big board on the table with the name ‘Kip Sabian’ on it, so…”

Chuck sighed, running a hand over his face before rolling his eyes. “You could have led with that information, you know.”

Cassidy didn’t reply back to him, just observed the brunet on the couch through his sunglasses. “I thought you would have known. Aren’t you two friends or something?”

Chuck avoided looking directly back at him, trying to make it seem like the question didn’t sting. He hadn’t seen Kip since that day, he never opened the door when Chuck came over the following day or answered any of his calls or texts since. He had been living in complete darkness over what had actually happened with Kip, even Penelope refused to tell him anything apart from a general ‘he’s fine’ every time Chuck asked her something.

“I told you, that was months ago.”

Cassidy just nodded, stopping to observe Chuck as the other man just tried to focus back on lacing his boots. After a long, lingering silence the blond broke it as he spoke up again.

“Do you want to go see him?”

Chuck stopped, eyes slowly dragging up to Cassidy again. He seemed sincere in that question, and if Chuck was being honest, that had been the first thought in his mind since Cassidy had waltzed into the locker room with the news that Kip had been sighted inside the building. The premise seemed rather odd to him, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have put something like that past Kip. A silent man with a suit and a cardboard box on his head, doing a signing that hadn’t been advertised for anyone beforehand. Sounded like it was just down Kip’s alley, in some really weird way, to him.

“Is he still there?”

“Probably,” Cassidy shrugged again. “He seemed to be just setting up when we went into the cafeteria like twenty minutes ago. I doubt he has left yet.”

While he wasn’t quite sure how to take any of it, let alone how Kip was going to take it if he showed up, Chuck nodded a little, still a bit hesitant. Cassidy mirrored the movement, before nodding his head towards the locker room door, asking Chuck to follow him. Not that he didn’t know where the cafeteria was in the building, they had walked past it when they had entered earlier, but maybe his hesitance was on the surface enough that Cassidy thought taking the lead was going to make him regret this less. Make it easier for him.

Chuck followed Cassidy outside, tracking through the hallways for a moment before they arrived at their destination. It was extremely easy to spot the individual not belonging into the group of people in the big, bright, well-lit room, the man standing in the middle of it all by a large table messed up with multiple scattered photos around it, hands behind his suited back as he was observing the room through the eye holes poked on a box over his head.

Chuck swallowed thickly. It didn’t matter if he didn’t see his face, all that was enough for him to recognize him immediately, no matter how many months it had been since or how much things had changed between now and then.

He was so focused on reading the words on the front of the box that Chuck didn’t notice the eyes inside of it land on him. The distance made it a bit harder, sure, but the lights were bright enough and the dark circles surrounding the eyes made them pop for Cassidy to notice the stare at first, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Hey,” he muttered, carefully elbowing Chuck to the side to get his attention. “He sees you. I think you should at least go say hello.”

Blinking himself back to the situation, Chuck glanced at Cassidy on his side, the blond just shrugging at him a little. Maybe Chuck’s nervousness was obvious, maybe Cassidy quickly put two and two together from what Chuck had told him before about how their last meeting had ended, but he only sighed, once again leading the way towards the man in a suit and the box, Kip’s eyes never leaving Chuck as they approached. Chuck on the other hand tried to look at everything except him, until he was stopped to stand right in front of the other man he hadn’t seen in months until now.

Through the eye holes of the box Chuck could see his vacant stare just blankly staring back at him, saying it all without saying anything at the same time. Kip looked at him briefly, before providing a photo from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulling a marker seemingly out of nowhere along with it. He scribbled something quickly on the photo, handing it to Cassidy, and walked away without looking back or acknowledging either of them further.

Cassidy looked at the photo for a moment before handing it over to Chuck. It was an old promo picture of Kip, in his Superbad gear, with his face crossed over with a red marker and some messy text scribbled next to him.

‘Time changes us all. Embrace the change.’

#setting: hanahaki #fic #character: kip sabian #character: chuck taylor #character: orange cassidy #ship: chuckkip #fic: you wanna wish away your sins #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

[ne-spivay-ranenko]

Jukebox January: Day 2

the original post tag of all my posts

Today is songs starting with B, and this happens to include a few of my all time favorites! It's always hard to say if any one song is my favorite, because many songs mean a lot to me for many reasons, but some of them stick with me forever.

Bliss - Muse

This song is the musical manifestation of the aching feeling of seeing someone else being happy and wishing and wanting so, so much to have a little bit of the peace and joy in their mind. This is why it's one of my favorites. I always think it's so powerful because it's not wishing ill on whoever is so happy--he's singing "everything about you is so easy to love", it's just that wish to understand it, to search for that light and warmth. This song has such lovely contrasts music-wise too, the synth arpeggios with the scratches in the guitar riff, the minor key verses to major key chorus, it all adds to this feeling of both joy and painful longing at the same time.

Butterflies and Hurricanes - Muse

Yeah, today you get 2 Muse songs for the price of one. I can't help it! This one's also important because it's the inspiration for the first tattoo I ever got. The song's title is a reference to the butterfly effect ("the idea that a butterfly's wings might create tiny changes in the atmosphere that may ultimately alter the path of a tornado") and for me, it reminds me that small things can mean a lot. The tattoo itself is just a butterfly with some cool geometric patterns, but the meaning is for me!

Blinding - Florence + the Machine

I adore the whole vibe of this song, it reflects perfectly the feeling of "waking up" to the truth of something, of having your illusions about someone shattered, and the mix of both grief and freedom that comes with that. Makes me feel a lot at once in a beautiful way.

Barve oceana - Joker Out

Of all Joker Out songs, this is the one most meaningful to me personally. (To nobody's surprise, if they've ever clicked on my blog and seen the title!) When I say it's changed my life, I mean it. The line "Kdo zdej poje tiste pesmi ki je včasih pela jih?" feels like it was written specifically to remind me that I need to make music again. The whole song about someone finding herself in a faraway place, it's everything to me, it's me and my dreams and it tells me that I have to find that place for myself. Also, the bassline is so damn good...

Buen día Benito - El Cuarteto de Nos

El Cuarteto de Nos is a Uruguayan rock band which I discovered when participating in a Eurovision fan contest, actually, and I'm so glad I did because they're amazing. (Oh, and they've been around since 1984, so they have a huge back catalog!) This particular song is a favorite of mine because of the intensity of it: it's about a guy confronting his childhood bully in search of justice, and reveals more and more painful history as it goes on. It's worth looking up the lyrics to understand it if you don't speak Spanish (or if you're like me and only speak Spanish badly).

Four more below the cut so this doesn't get too long on people's dashes:

Boum Boum Boum - MIKA

Sometimes you just need a fun French song about banging your lover everywhere and shocking the bourgeoisie. That's all. The line, "s'aimer comme ça, c'est pas vulgaire" is always a good reminder, too.

Blood // Water - grandson

I love the genre mixing that grandson has in his music, plus the lyrics about corruption and greed are, unfortunately, always relevant. This one also was a big inspiration for an OC of mine, whose family's greed was the source of him being cursed, so I listened to it a lot when coming up with him.

Black Leather - KEiiNO and Charlotte Qamaniq

I love KEiiNO. I don't think I mention it enough on this blog because they don't really pop up in posts to reblog, so let me mention it now: I love KEiiNO. This song never fails to make me feel better about myself with the line "fashion your shame into a sight".

Bet Maijpuķītēm Jāpaliek - Tumsa

Every note of this song seems to be infused with beautiful melancholy. When I listen all I can feel is like I'm looking into memories through a haze, a pretty haze, but it's still memories, and I'm wishing to touch them again. Opens with the lines "Viņas sapņi ir par to/Tālu zemi, mīļoto", and considering what I said about Barve oceana above, there's definitely a pattern here...

#jukebox january #Spotify

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

CLAIMED

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler (Werewolf!Austin)

Requested: y'all have asked me to do this and i'm here to DELIVER

Prompt: He can smell you even when you're not there. He can sense your presence. He knows where you are at all times and he can hear when you're safe and when you're not. A wild dog, a slave to the moon. He has CLAIMED you.

TW: Mentions of blood, gore, an epic werewolf fight lmfao, I think that's it!

Rating: Pg-13   ||   Word Count: 6397

A/N: AHHH HE'S FINALLY HERE!! I didn't realize how badly I needed this until 6k words later 😅 I have to be honest though I had SO much fun writing this and it's probably one of my favorite things that I've ever written!!! I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

Part two of the Supernatural Series. See all three parts by checking out my #SupernaturalSeries tag.

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“What are we doing here?” you hiss at your friend.

It’s almost two-thirty in the morning on Halloween night. Not only did your friend keep you up until two a.m. at the high school’s biggest Halloween party, but now they’re dragging you into what’s probably the creepiest building you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like some sort of abandoned warehouse with threatening broken glass windows, barred doors, and some sort of horrible smell reminiscent of wet dog. Your head is pounding thanks to the ungodly amount of tequila you inhaled at the party and what you really want to do right now is change out of your costume and into pajamas for a good night’s sleep. A very long sleep.

“Shh,” your friend whispers back as they yank on your hand. “I told you I had a cool Halloween surprise for you. Just be quiet and follow me. You’ll understand soon, once I can get us into the building…”

“Understand what? Alex, I just want to go home and go to bed,” you complain, tossing your free hand into the air. “I drank way too much and now I'm exhausted.”

Alex releases your hand so they can try to figure out how to get into the building. A cold breeze blows through the air and you clamp your arms over your chest, rubbing the goosebumps from your bare skin. Now you wish you’d chosen a warmer costume. You groan when Alex doesn't respond, too invested in breaking and entering. You reach into your pocket and fish out your phone.

“Well, whatever then. You know what, I’m gonna call Austin and see how he’s doing," you say and step away.

Austin, your ex-boyfriend of several years. According to Alex, he was supposed to be in attendance at the Halloween party tonight, but he called to cancel less than an hour before the party. Apparently, he’d fallen ill. At first, you were disappointed. You've never stopped having feelings for Austin and had been sort of hoping that you’d be able to rekindle something at the party.

You’d gathered all the courage you had and texted Austin to wish him good health and tell him you'd pay him a visit in the morning. Since you have a free moment now, you might as well use it to check in on him. Austin rarely gets sick or injured, almost never actually, so it’s always a little more than concerning when he does.

You dial the familiar number and hold the phone to your ear, waiting patiently. After a few moments of ringing, you get sent to his voicemail. You smile at the soothing sound of his deep, raspy voice but then hang up. He must be asleep.

A loud clicking noise sounds as Alex breaks through one of the bars on the door. You spin and watch as they throw the wooden beam to the side with ease. Your eyebrows shoot up, although this display of strength doesn’t really surprise you all that much. You always knew Alex was incredibly strong although they don’t look it. They’ve been an all-star field hockey player for the last three years at your high school.

“Didn’t answer?” they ask and you nod. “Yeah, I figured,” they mutter quietly.

You don’t miss the furrow of their eyebrows as they drop their gaze from yours.

“What?” you ask.

“Oh, nothing. He just doesn’t get sick that often, so it’s probably pretty bad.”

“Right…” you nod but something in your gut doesn’t feel right. Maybe it's this haunting place.

Your relationship with Austin has been nothing short of rocky recently. Before you broke up, he was increasingly absent, sometimes randomly and suddenly leaving to go ‘take care of something.’ You hadn’t minded at first, figuring it was a personal thing. In the past, your fights had been pretty contained and calm. This one was quite the opposite.

He didn’t even bother to show up. It was your anniversary dinner last month and he forgot completely. You’d gotten into it, complaining about how he’s never around anymore and never pays attention to you. He seemed to be handling the argument well until you accused him of cheating.

“I’m sorry! I was taking care of something!” he shouted, balling his fingers into fists.

“Taking care of what, Austin? Another person? How stupid do you think I am? I can tell pretty clearly that you’re not paying attention to me anymore which means you must be paying attention to someone else!”

Suddenly, he grabbed ahold of a glass cup that was resting on the counter and threw it down. It cracked into a million pieces, shattering glass everywhere. None of it hit you or anything, but you were horrified by his outburst. You could never forget how his eyes seemingly started to somehow shift color under the light. Normally bright blue, they were turning yellow right before your eyes. You’d never noticed before, that his eyes were like mood ring circles that changed colors with his emotions. He seemed to grow larger, too, to tower over you with bulging muscles. When he took a step toward you, you stepped back in fear and accidentally placed your palm on top of the table. With a hiss, you pulled it back in front of you to find a tiny piece of glass stuck in the skin, quickly seeping red with blood.

When you glared back up at Austin, his eyes had softened and he looked terrified by his actions. He threw his hands up and then turned, rushing out of your house. You followed after him, desperate to know what the hell was going on with him. But by the time you’d thrown the door open and stepped out onto the porch, he was gone. He was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air. Your heart thumped with fear as two yellow circles flashed through the forest in the distance. But when you blinked and looked again, they were gone. Actually, you don’t even think you ever saw them at all.

After that fight, he disappeared for several weeks. You came around his house to check on him and apologize, but his parents said that he had taken a vacation for a few days. You found it a bit odd, but when he returned, word spread fast around school about his little trip. Apparently, he’d been struggling with anxiety and anger management so he went away to a therapy center to get help.

You hadn’t seen him in quite some time, aside from the occasional pass in the hallway, but he and Alex had been close friends for a while.

Something that had always bugged you when you were dating was a nagging feeling that he was lying to you about something, that he was hiding something from you.

Alex holds the door open and gestures for you to enter. With a huff, you step in, the heels of your shoes clicking against the concrete pavement. It’s blindingly dark inside, not a ray of light to be seen other than a single blueish-white stripe from the light of the full moon which shines on a small circle on the floor in the middle of the room. It illuminates the immediate area around it, but there’s not much to see other than a couple of random rocks and something you that looks suspiciously like a dead rat. You shudder as Alex shuts the door behind you, slamming closed with a loud noise.

Despite the alcohol still coursing through your veins, you’re starting to feel extremely awake and very sober. You gulp as another cold breeze blows through the dilapidated building.

“Alex, what the hell are we doing here?” you ask, irritated. “I’m very tired and I’d really like to go home.”

“I just need to show you something, that’s all,” they say. “As soon as I find the light switch…aha!”

Dazzling yellow light suddenly fills the room and your eyes instinctively blink as they attempt to adjust to the new environment. After a few minutes, you can see well enough to start scanning the area. It’s a massive room with no walls or structures to divide it. A large wooden chandelier hangs from the ceiling, illuminating most of the space. In the front of the room, there’s some sort of massive stone table with markings all over it. To the left is a huge stone fireplace with a row of couches and chairs spread around. The chairs are even dressed with red plaid blankets and tiny flattened pillows.

As your gaze follows the contour of the room, you see what looks like a massive kitchen-like area. There are barstool seats around a few high-top tables and a massive fridge, like the largest fridge you’ve ever seen in your life. Right next to that is a changing room divider and a rack with clothes hanging on it. You quirk an eyebrow but step further into the room anyway. It’s surprisingly warm and cozy, like it used to be some sort of cabin or lodge or something.

“What do you think?” Alex asks and you turn toward them. They’re staring back at you with a huge grin on their face. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“I mean, sure, but…what is it? Did it used to be like some sort of ski lodge or something?”

As you ask the question, you step up toward the stone table, interested in the one piece of furniture which doesn’t seem to fit.

“Well, I guess it is a lodge of sorts but not for skiers. It’s actually a lot older than it seems, too. It’s been around for almost two hundred years.”

“Yeah, this weird stone table definitely gives off that vibe,” you chuckle as you step up onto the platform.

Alex chuckles and continues explaining the history of the strange place.

“That table is incredibly important. It holds extremely potent cultural value and isn’t allowed to be moved from this spot until the al- er…archaeologists can clear the area and transport it safely,” Alex explains but you zone out as they’re talking.

The stone table has you completely enraptured. It’s incredible. As you peer down at it, you think you can decipher a few of the symbols: one that looks like a bear claw, one that looks like a sun, and one that looks sort of like a sabertooth tiger or maybe a wolf. In the middle of the table, there’s an engraving larger than the rest. It’s a huge circle with three large slashes through it as if an animal had angrily defaced it. Absentmindedly, you reach out toward it and run your fingertips across the deep, stony inscriptions. Alex’s deep gasp startles you and your head pops up to meet their gaze.

“What are you doing?” they shout.

“What?”

Alex sprints up toward you, grabbing onto your wrist and pushing your fingers away from the table.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what, Alex? I just touched it. Is the oil on my fingers gonna damage it or something?” you ask with a shake of your head.

“Just…don’t touch anything else. Let’s go,” they say, turning and pulling on your arm. “We shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake to bring you. My mistake.”

“Woah, Alex, what the hell is happening? What is this place, anyway, I thought-”

Your speech is cut off as the ground below you starts to shake. You spread your arms out to balance yourself as the whole building itself begins to feel like an earthquake is rumbling through. Alex glances at you with wide, wild eyes, and you can clearly see the terror in them. After a few moments, the rumbling stops and you glare at Alex.

“What the fuck was that?” you demand and Alex just gestures toward the door and breaks out into a sprint.

You throw your hands up but follow them anyway. You only make it about three steps before something crashes through the window. You throw your arms over your head to protect it. When you lower them, you shriek in fear at the sight of a massive wolf stalking its way toward you with a snarl pasted on its face. You jerk to the side with a yelp as another wolf bursts through a different window. Alex steps in front of you, holding their arms out to shield you. You step backward, shaking with fear as more and more wolves begin to surround you in a circle. In just a few moments, you and Alex are standing in the middle of the feral crowd, helpless and left completely at their mercy.

“What the fuck!” you scream, backing up further.

You stop abruptly as you hear a growl from behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see another wolf positioned to attack your backside. You step forward, clutching onto Alex’s jacket and scanning the circle of wolves gathered around you with horror. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your entire body feels like it's vibrating with fear. Alex drops to their knee, placing a fist over their heart. You stand completely still, too terrified to do anything.

“Alpha, domine mi,” Alex says with their head bent reverently in front of one of the wolves.

The wolf is absolutely massive, definitely bigger than any normal wolf you’ve ever seen. Its black fur is like a shadow in the night with two bright yellow eyes glinting in the dim light of the warehouse. It growls and straightens its head.

“You have brought a human to us,” it says.

Your mouth drops open and you stumble back with shock. It spoke….it genuinely just spoke human words.

“Why have you done this, Parvulus?” it continues.

Your eyes flick back and forth manically from Alex to the wolf. The air is filled with growls, snarls, and yips coming from every direction. You quickly count the wolves and come up with nine.

“I…" Alex responds in a shaky voice. "They're my friend. They won’t say anything, I swear. I will fix this, domine. I-I swear it."

“It is too late!” the wolf, apparently the alpha, snaps and bares his teeth at you. “It must be disposed of. You know the law.”

You clutch harder onto Alex’s jacket as the wolves step closer in unison. Your heart slams in your chest and you can feel your breaths catching in your throat with the panic as you start to hyperventilate.

“Alex, please tell me you can fix this. Please, I’m scared,” you mutter into their ear as they stand.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” they respond and then address the alpha wolf. “You can’t have them. We must find another way. This is my wrongdoing. Take me, instead.”

You watch with frantic eyes. You try to step closer to Alex but there's no more room for you to go.

“If you insist, Parvulus, then we shall take you both!” the wolf growls, lunging forward.

As he does so, Alex shoves you back and you fall onto the ground. You wince as the hard concrete slams against your tailbone but scramble to your feet quickly as you notice the wolves closing in on you. You glance back over to Alex and scream. They’ve shifted into the form of a wolf, just like the others, although much smaller. The massive alpha wolf lunges toward Alex and clamps down hard on their neck, despite Alex’s best efforts to fight back. You whimper in fear as you can do nothing but watch and hope Alex can save you both. Most of the wolves descend upon Alex and you gasp as they start to rip at their fur and face. The massive black alpha wolf steps away from the massacre and shifts its attention to you.

“I do so love my dinner fresh,” it growls, baring its teeth.

You step backward with your hands outstretched and absolutely no idea what to do. The wolf lunges forward suddenly and you drop to your knees, throwing your arms over your face. To your surprise, nothing happens. You feel no pressure and no pain. You open your eyes to see another wolf in front of you. This one is larger than the other and has sandy, yellow fur. It growls as it stands in front of you like it's trying to guard you against the other black wolf.

“They are under my reign. Leave them alone or die,” the sandy wolf barks.

‘Who are you to claim it?“ the black wolf hisses. ”My pack has discovered it here. It is ours to take.“

“Do you not smell my mark on them? My claim.”

The sandy wolf growls and they begin to circle each other. You slowly back up, glancing over at Alex, who lies off to the side, lifeless and bleeding terribly. The black wolf growls and then lunges at the sandy one, clamping its teeth onto its neck. You gasp and cover your mouth as the sandy wolf does the same to the black one. As they toss each other around back and forth, you run over toward Alex, who’s now sitting up. You pause in your tracks as Alex’s fur begins to retreat into their skin. Once they appear mostly human, you drop to your knees beside them and start examining their wounds.

“I’m sorry,” is all they say before your attention is redirected toward the wolf fight going down in the middle of the room.

The sandy wolf has the black one pinned down with all four paws and is tearing at its neck mercilessly. The black wolf is whimpering in pain as it tries to wriggle out from under the sandy one. It bites hard onto the sandy wolf’s stomach and it howls and releases the black wolf from its grasp. The black wolf then growls and runs away limping, its pack following behind.

“This is not over, Impetus,” it growls as it runs off.

The sandy wolf stands still, its head moving as it tracks the black wolf’s retreat.

“Help me!” Alex shouts and you turn toward them with wide eyes. You shake your head, not understanding their meaning.

Alex scrambles toward the corner and the space is suddenly filled with light. You hadn't even noticed it was there before. Chains are bolted securely onto the wall and attached to metal contraptions that look like animal traps. There are several stations, each with the same combination of chains. It looks like a trap for wild animals. Wild wolves. Alex unclamps some of the chains and moves deftly to hook one onto the sandy wolf’s back left foot. The wolf rears up and slams down on Alex, pushing them over. They slide back across the concrete and slam into the wall. They clutch their shoulder and glance over at you with fearful eyes.

“Stop!” you shout, stepping toward the wolf.

You slide your shoe off quickly and toss it at the creature. It bounces off his shoulder and he turns to glare at you, although he makes no move to attack you. Because he shifted, however, he has also exposed his other back foot to Alex, who moves quickly to chain it to the wall. He howls and pulls against the chains as he turns back toward them and begins to approach Alex. Your friend is bleeding from their nose, the side of their head, and all over their arms and legs. They can’t defend themself. The wolf rears back, preparing to pounce. You gasp and sprint over to Alex, throwing yourself in front of them.

“No!” you shout, throwing your open palms in front of the wolf. “Stop!”

It jerks back suddenly. You gaze into its eyes which soften immediately. It steps back and you watch as the yellow eyes start to fade into blue. They widen and the wolf pauses, long enough for Alex to jump to action, chaining its last two paws up and turning an ancient-looking crank to pull the wolf back against the wall. It weakly fights the chains but then drops defeatedly.

You feel sadness and pity rising in your throat. Tears threaten to spill as you stare into the eyes of the wolf. You’d know those eyes anywhere. Those blue sparkling eyes like waves on a stormy sea and the sandy fur, almost exactly the same human blonde color as…

“Austin…” you whisper quietly. “Austin…”

The wolf bows its head, lying limply on the floor in almost a shamed position. You shake your head and step toward him slowly and carefully. He barely reacts as you approach him. Once you’re close enough to touch him, you drop down to your knees. You lift your hand and then hesitate in the air before gently placing your shaking fingers underneath the wolf's head. You lift it by the chin and stare into the eyes again. The wolf huffs in your grasp and raises its gaze to meet you.

“Oh Austin, baby…” you say, your face screwing up with tears. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You drop your gaze down, not wanting Austin to see you cry. But your head shoots back up when you feel his face starting to shift in your hand. You pull your hand back with a gasp as Austin’s fur begins to shrink back into his skin. You fall back onto your ass and watch as his eyes flick back and forth from yellow to blue. His large teeth shrink back into his gums, still sharper than normal human teeth but rounding out slowly. The structure of his face cracks and shifts back into place. His head drops down, his arms restrained behind him. He releases a breath and you watch his back muscles as they contract with his breathing, now just human skin. His fingernails are still long and pointed, like claws, and when he lifts his head, you can see hair along his jawline. His nose is enlarged and his ears are pointed, just like the werewolves you see on tv.

“Here’s some cleaning stuff for you guys,” Alex’s small timid voice sounds from behind you. “Sorry about this. I’ll…leave you some time alone.”

Alex places the things she's carrying down on the ground next to you. It's a bowl of water and a towel, clearly previously used judging by the faded brownish-red blood stains. You and Austin both wait in silence until Alex has left the room. Immediately, you reach your hand back up to his face, placing it on his cheek and turning his gaze up to meet you. He glances at you with furrowed eyebrows. He looks ashamed. You take a few shaky breaths, the tears still gathering despite your best efforts to force them back down. He harshly pulls his face away from you, avoiding your eyes. You gulp and move to start unfastening the chains that hold his hands and arms hostage. He yanks his hand away.

“No. Not until I’m fully human again,” he says dryly. “I can’t risk the chance of hurting you.”

You nod and return to your seated position, not sure exactly what to say to him.

“I understand if you never want to see me again,” he continues.

You’re silent for a moment, genuinely trying to digest everything that’s just happened.

“Don’t be a fool, Austin,” you say. “Of course I want to see you again. I just…I don’t understand-”

“So now you know,” he interrupts you. He lifts his head and you can already see that the hair has shrunk considerably and he’s starting to look even more like his human self. “Why I’ve been so distant, why I’ve been acting so…weird lately.”

You nod slowly, dropping your eyes as it all starts to settle in. This is real. It’s actually happening. After a few moments of silence, you glance back at Austin to see the human man you know and love. You move again to unfasten his restraints. He recoils from your touch but you gently place a hand on his wrist.

“It’s okay. I’m not afraid. I trust you, Austin.”

His eyebrows remain furrowed but he allows you to undo the clamps and release him. As soon as you unclip the last shackle, he falls forward uncontrollably. You just barely catch him on your shoulder, although his heavy body pushes you onto the floor. You glance up at him, heat creeping onto your cheeks as he hovers over top of you.

“Well this is familiar at least,” you joke and he shakes his head with a sad laugh.

He grimaces as he pushes himself off of you. You stand and grab the bowl and towel with one hand, sliding the other arm around Austin's waist to help support him as you stumble over toward the couches and the fireplace. You drop Austin into one of the chairs as gently as possible. You kneel by him and soak the towel in the water. You look up at Austin’s body, taking a minute to assess the damage. He has a bad gash in his stomach and cuts and bruises everywhere else. Not to mention that his shirt was ripped to shreds and the black sweatpants he was wearing are barely strung across his frame. You ring out the towel and gently press it to the largest gaping wound on his stomach. He hisses and leans forward, his hands gripping tightly onto your wrist. You see the tips of his fingers lengthen and sharpen as his claw threaten to come out again. He releases you with a pained breath.

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you reply and gently press the towel down again.

A few moments of silence pass until you gather the courage to speak.

“How..how did this happen?” you ask, shaking your head.

Austin chuckles dryly.

“You know that scar on my side,” he says and your eyes immediately drop to the place. You know it well. “Yeah, that one. I didn’t get it from a dog attack. Well, I guess I did but not a domestic dog. Not a pet, I mean. It was a wolf. My alpha.”

“Your…alpha? That black wolf that was trying to eat me?”

“Esuriens? No, he was never my alpha. My alpha is dead. His name was Magnus.”

“Wait…that wolf, it called Alex something different, something that started with a p?”

“Parvulus. It means ‘little one,’ because they’re the smallest wolf in the chapter. Every werewolf is solidified into their pack with a Latin name that has to do with their personality or characteristics. Latin is the language of the werewolves since our sire was Latin, the first werewolf.”

“The chapter? I thought werewolves were in packs.”

“They are. But packs are also organized into chapters. We’re very organized, you know,” he says with a smirk. You smile and dip the towel back into the water.

"What’s your Latin name?”

“Impetus. It means impulsive,” he says with a chuckle. You smile and bite your lip.

“Sounds about right. So, what exactly is this place and how come that other…pack just showed up here?”

“This is the chapter headquarters. It’s where we all meet for our yearly ceremony and commencement. That stone table up there, that’s the altar. It’s how we call our fellow pack members.”

“I thought you could just howl?”

“Only the alpha can howl to call their pack. Whenever betas or omegas need help, they use the altar. It was originally used by humans many centuries ago to call on the wolves whenever they needed help. When you touched the full moon symbol in the center, you sent out a distress call to the packs. Esuriens’ pack was probably the only one to respond since most of us like to stay inside on nights like these.”

You wring out the towel again and rewet it, shifting so that you can reach Austin’s face. He spreads his legs without question so that you can slide between them. You gulp and mutter your thanks as you reach up to clean the wounds on his head and face.

“Nights like these?”

He gestures up toward the beam of moonlight that shines down onto the floor.

“Full moon.”

“Right, of course. Well, where’s your pack? Where’s your…like alpha and stuff?”

He hisses and jerks forward, his hand latching itself onto your waist and squeezing as he works through the pain. Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You and Austin haven’t been intimate in a long time. And you've missed his touch like oxygen. He clears his throat as his blue eyes gaze deeply into yours.

“I…am the alpha,” he says. “My pack is at our lair, hopefully restrained and not hurting anyone. That’s why I couldn’t come tonight. I wasn’t sick. I was watching over my pack, but when I realized the distress call came from you, I knew I had to come."

“How could you possibly have known it came from me?”

"Your scent and your heartbeat. I know them. Intimately," he says with a smile. You bite your lip as you place the towel back down on his wound. “I always have a good sense for where you are and whether you're in danger. Sometimes I tap into it just to check on you."

"So...you stalk me?" you ask jokingly with a chuckle.

"No! I'm just watching out for you. Don't be a perv."

You giggle and wring out the towel again.

"So, do you stalk me often?"

"Only when I think you might've made a bad decision. I almost didn't come tonight, actually."

"Oh?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. "Why's that?"

"I...really shouldn't be around you when the full moon hits. That’s why I was so distant before and-”

He hisses as you accidentally push a little too hard on a wound on his arm. His mention of the distance between you threw you through a quick flash of anger, but you quietly apologize and release the pressure.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me this," you say. "Why is it so dangerous for you to be around me?”

He glances at you, his eyes asking you to let it go, but you persist, gesturing with your hand for him to continue. He sighs and shakes his head.

“The truth, Y/N, is that the full moon brings out all of our most animalistic traits. Not just the vicious ones but the…biological ones too.”

“What are you saying?” you sit back on your heels with furrowed eyebrows.

“I…when the full moon hits it makes us extra…well, horny. To a fault, sometimes. When my alpha died, he named me as his successor. Why I have no fucking clue but here we are. I had to leave to get control of myself. As an alpha, all of my senses were dialed to like a thousand. It got to the point where I couldn’t resist you whenever you were around, where I needed to have you, to smell your scent and touch you,” his eyes drop down to take inventory of your figure and you gulp nervously under his scrutinizing gaze. “It was becoming dangerous for us to be together. But what I learned while I was gone was…was that there’s a way to control it. There’s a way to turn that passion against itself.”

“What are you talking about, Austin? I don’t understand,” you whisper, having unintentionally moved closer to him.

Your hands are resting on his knees and he’s leaning over to look down at you. He raises a hand, wincing with the movement, and places his open palm on your cheek. You lean into his touch as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re the key to controlling my shift.”

“I thought you just said I was the reason you can't control it?”

“You are, or you were. But what I was tapping into was my lust for you, my desire. But if I just focus on how you make me feel, the way my heart reacts to you, my…my love for you, then I can anchor myself in those human feelings.”

“Love?”

“I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I’ve only learned to love you harder and that love makes me stronger. I need you but not in the way I did before. I need your soul, everything that you are. It’s all meant for me as I’m meant for you.”

You pull away from him for a moment, feeling overwhelmed with so many emotions you could never name. them all You release a few deep breaths as you try to get a handle on your feelings. It’s as if your heart is reaching out to him like it knows the words he speaks are true, like it wants you to give in. You feel tears brimming in your eyes.

“You said...you told the other alpha that you marked me, claimed me or something. What did you mean?”

Austin’s fingers gently curl around your wrist and lift your arm up into the space between you. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he gently flips your wrist around and runs his thumb over a tiny, vaguely star-shaped scar on your wrist. You’ve noticed it before, of course, but you figured you just stabbed yourself with your nail overnight or accidentally cut it at some point and never noticed. Austin smiles handsomely and looks up to gaze into your eyes.

“This scar is my claim on you. It contains my scent and warns all other werewolves that you’re taken, that you belong to me and to my pack. I have the same here,” he lifts his wrist and you see that you do, in fact, have matching scars.

“How did you do it?”

“With my claw.”

“How did I not feel it?”

“Our marks are done while our soulmate sleeps. It causes no pain to them. If the scar remains, the soulmate has accepted the match. The only way it can be undone is for both parties to reject the union.”

You look away as the brimming tears start to fall down your cheeks. Austin’s hand maneuvers your face back to him and he tilts his head like a puppy to look at you.

“What’s wrong, love? Does this make you unhappy?”

“No, I…it’s just all so much,” you say through tears. Austin gently wipes them away from your cheeks and smiles sadly.

“If you want to remove it, we can do so. Just say the word and I’ll be out of your life forever.”

“Shut up, Austin,” you chuckle through shaky breaths. “I never want to remove it. I want it there forever. I want you there forever.”

He inhales sharply before crashing his lips onto yours. His hands immediately clutch onto your waist and he pulls you to stand. You slide your knees onto the chair and sit down on his lap. Your hands find his shoulders and then slide up onto his neck. You tangle your fingers into his hair. He tilts his head as one of his hands slides up your neck and into your hair, holding your lips against his. You tug on his roots and he moans quietly into your mouth. His hands grip you harshly and you can already feel him growing stiff underneath your legs.

His lips slip off of yours and attach themselves to your neck. His fingers pull on your locks to tug your head to the side so he can reach your neck better. You tilt your head back as he bites onto the sensitive skin under your jaw. You moan quietly and bite your lip. You gasp as you feel his hips rise up to meet you but then wince as his grip tightens on you and he bites down hard on your throat. Your hands fly to his chest and you firmly push him back. He stares up at you with wide eyes and swollen pink lips, shining with his saliva.

“Fuck I’m sorry…” he says, his eyebrows furrowing as he drops  his head.

You slide your finger underneath his chin and tilt his head up.

“It’s okay,” you reply and lean forward to press a gentle, chaste kiss onto his lips. “Just be careful with me, tiger. Or should I say wolf.”

He smiles, pulling you flush against him, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your frame. He buries his face in your shoulder, rubbing his head around as he nestles there. You close your eyes and sigh contentedly. You missed this and now you understand why Austin used to do this so much.

“Are you marking me with your scent?” you ask with a giggle.

He pulls back and you can already see a blush settling on his cheeks. Whether it’s from his embarrassment or the heat of your makeout session, you aren’t sure.

“Sort of…”

You laugh and kiss his hot forehead.

“Alright,” he says, sliding his hands underneath your legs and lifting you, “let’s get you home. Come on.”

He carries you bridal style along the dark Halloween night streets and you nestle into his hot skin. He smells earthy, musky, and like dried sweat. You somehow manage to fall asleep and, the next thing you know, your eyes are opening to see Austin carefully tucking you into your bed.

“I need to get back to my pack, but I’ll check on you in the morning.”

“I was supposed to be checking on you. Did you change my clothes?” you ask with a contented smile as you realize you’re no longer in costume and in a large t-shirt instead. Actually, it’s one of Austin’s old tees you never gave back.

He smiles and sits on the edge of the bed, intertwining his fingers into yours. You feel his thumb swiping over the scar and you smile wider.

He leans over and gently presses his lips to yours. You smile into the kiss, squeezing his fingers between yours. You curl your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He squeezes your shoulders, rubbing his head into your neck. You breathe him in, satisfied that he’s leaving your bedroom with your scent all over him. When he pulls back, he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and then pulls the blankets up to your chin. He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Rest well, my love,” Austin says and you close your eyes, slipping into a deep sleep.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[georgiaheartsdilfs]

→ nightmares bucky b x f!reader

my masterlist ↪M A S T E R L I S T

prompt ↪ "i heard you yell, i was just checking on you" he's only your neighbour and despite only talking to him a few times, you cared for him.

warnings / other notes ↪ short

My apartment complex wasn't busy, most people preferred the bottom floors compared to the top. Just so happens only me and a few others live on the top of the building.

My next door neighbour, James. I know he's Captain America's best friend, I never mention it though, I think its a sensitive topic when I speak to James.

Although I've only spoken to him a few times in my life he seemed awfully sarcastic, well spoken but sarcastic and socially awkward. We bump into each other in the hallway when we both are heading out or something.

Tonight I was up late writing an incident report for something that happened in court today, being a lawyer wasn't easy especially if the client that hired you doesn't follow anything you say.

I was running on caffeine and energy drinks, it was just a typical Saturday night for me.

My fingers gently pressed against the keyboard on my laptop writing words today, the client was eagerly wanting to plead guilty, lashing out at not only the judge but the witness. My client has no previous mental illnesses or reasons to be in jail so why he would want to be there is beyond me.

Grabbing the half empty cup of coffee sipping it before placing it back down on my desk, re-reading anything I had written down in the past ten minutes, correcting any grammatical error.

My eyes started to grow bags at the sight of all the writing, law school had obviously helped me career wise. Certainly not mentally or physically but living in New York isn't easy.

Continuing to press the keys a words formed on my screen my phone buzzes "who would message me at this time" I mumble getting up, dawdling over to my bedside table reaching for the phone.

A loud yell comes from the other side of my bedroom wall, the side in which James had lived.

Forgetting about the phone I race out my door to James knocking on it loudly. Although he had a metal arm I always feared for his safety.

Moments later the door opened "James' I smile sweetly, his head was sweaty, his face red and he was panting "y/n" he said swallowing before clearing his throat "I uh- i heard you yell, i was just checking on you" I sigh in relief.

I hadn't known him too well, but I knew him well enough to care for him.

"I'm fine" he nods huffing and puffing, his dog tags hanging out the collar of his shirt, this was the first time I had seen everything. The tags, the hair all muffled, the shirt hanging loosely and his metal arm.

He had mentioned it previously, but due to fear of judgement he never showed me "are you, uh okay?" he asks pointing at my shirt that had a coffee stain and I chuckle "yeah just late nights" I clear my throat and he nods.

"was it nightmares?" I ask him and he tilts his head "ptsd?" I continue and he shakes his head "No i'm fine." he says trying to reassure me.

"it's completely normal you know." I say ignoring his assurance, he eventually nods "yeah it was just nightmares, no ptsd." he says giving a half smile.

"i know we don't know each other well, if you wanted to talk?" I say and he shakes his head awkwardly "i'm ok, i- uh i have a therapist so" he says biting his tongue and I nod "ok well thats good" I smile to him "have a good night James." I say before walking back to my door.

"It's Bucky" he says stopping me in my tracks and I spin around "James is my legal name, you can call me Bucky" he says and "oh thats cool" I say and he nods "actually" I say "since you're up and I assume you aren't going to bed anytime soon..." I drag on the last word.

"and since you haven't closed the door on met yet, would you like to come over. I can make coffee and not spill it on you, maybe if you don't fall asleep i could complain about my latest client?" I ask "uh" he says before looking into his apartment "sure" he says "i'll just grab my keys" he says walking back into his apartment.

A few minutes later he walks out with his keys and a leather jacket and gloves "you don't need those." my finger pointing at his gloves, he must've assumed I was scared or worried about his metal arm, I thought it made him unique.

He takes off his gloves throwing them back into his apartment before closing the door, following me to my apartment.

"I hope it's up to your standards, i'm not home all the time of course you know since your my neighbour" I chuckle tidying stuff up on the table, pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.

"it's nice, has more furniture than mine." he chuckles looking around "you can come into my room, that's where I do my work." I chuckle leaving the stuff on the table in a neat pile walking to my room.

This would be the first time James, I mean Bucky was invited into my home and it was messy. I could've tried harder but then again I didn't think I'd invite someone in at 2 in the morning.

"so who's the client?" he says laying on my bed "his name is Kent Brentwood, he's up for aggravated assault, forgery and 3 counts of first-degree murder." I smack my lips sitting at my desk and James raises his eyebrows.

"oooh" he says and I nod "I mean the man is clearly innocent, he looks like someone you bully but he's literally egging the trial on, he wants to be in jail. I just don't know why?" I mumble.

"he's going in there to kill someone, or it's money it's simple." he shrugs "but no evidence" I huff leaning back in my chair "I could get it out of him..." Bucky suggests "No, no, if all goes bad. I didn't represent the guy." I mumble my fingers tapping repetitively on the backspace key.

"coffee?" I ask him and he shakes his head "no thanks" he said staring intently at my screen "oh right, laptop with all my work." I point to it and he nods almost as if he had never seen it before.

"uh huh" he smiles "you're bed is comfortable." he says patting the space around him "it was a gift from my Aunt" I smile to him spinning my chair around to face him fully.

I stare at him, waiting for him to say something about his nightmares. I think he understood what I was doing because he sighed before starting another conversation "is it hard being a criminal defense lawyer?" he asks.

"Well I did have this client, Scott Lang the infamous Ant Man for the uh whole Iron Man v Cap." I say and he looks down disappointed "I don't know why I got him as my first case, I had no faith but I got him down to a couple years and home detention." I smile proud of myself.

"You should be proud of yourself." he says "I am" I smile.

Getting up off my chair I sit next to him on my bed "nightmares" I look down at him "please don't, no y/n, don't" he whines "come on Bucky atleast tell me how you feel when it happens or something, I don't wanna hear you screaming at night, it's heart wrenching." I mumble the last few words and he sighs sitting up.

"fine" he says clearing his throat "i'm assuming since you mentioned Steve" he pauses and I nod "yup" I smile "Well it's the day I died, Steve and I were on a train in Germany, i think." he says.

"I had fallen off the train and Steve tried reaching for me, he failed and its just that on repeat. When I hit the ground it changes to... this being put on" he mumbles raising his metal arm.

"then it's just my whole life, all the killings on repeat until it gets to one killing, someone who is very much alive and then I wake up." he says "like the state I found you in?" I ask and he nods. "those are my nightmares." he says and I grab his metal arm "if anything I'd be thankful that I could put this arm in the freezer and use it as an ice pack in summer." I say and he laughs. "an ice pack?"

#bucky x female reader #buckynat #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #tumblr #oneshots #wattpad #sebastian stan #buckytony #sebastian stan x reader one shot #the originals family #sebastian stan x reader onshots #sebastian stan x reader imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebstannews #fresh movie #sebastianstan #sebastian stan edit #sebstangifs #the mikaelsons #sexy sea bass #in sebastian we stan #sebstanedit #seb stan fluff #seb stan #seb stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #steve x bucky #steve kemp

[albertasunrise]

Let the Best Man Win - Part 5

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: You’ve known Frankie all your life and have harboured a crush on him for as long as you can remember. Thing is, he doesn't feel the same. Little do you know, his best friend has a thing for you. What happens when you learn this leads to a messy chain of events that’ll leave more than one person with their heartbroken...

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader, Reader x Ben Miller

Warnings: Angst, mentions of in fact death, drug abuse (once again, this hits hard but its all leading to something I swear.)

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3, Part 4

5 years later...

You weren't quite sure what possessed you to brave the bar you'd once frequented with the guys but there you were. You'd secretly kept tags on them all. They'd all been deployed a few times before retiring a little under a year ago, much to your relief.

Tom had a wife and kids now. Ben was a professional MMA fighter. Will, a speaker for the army and Frankie flew choppers for wealthy businessmen. You'd not spoken to them since you'd left. You had needed a new start. To move on from the hurt losing your son had inflicted on you, yet as you stood here within these familiar four walls you realised you'd missed them. You'd come back for a meeting with a local vendor and had decided that night to be nostalgic. Never imagined that you'd see anyone you knew.

"Bug?" Came a small but familiar voice and you froze, you knew that voice anywhere.

You turned on your heels to face a man you'd once known. The man you once loved and you sobbed at the sight that greeted you. It was Frankie, but not the Frankie you knew.

He looked tired, haunted even. He was thin, clearly taking poor care of himself. His hair had grown longer, it poked out the bottom of a standard oil cap that he wore on his head and his usual golden skin tone was almost sallow in appearance. He looked ill.

"Frankie." You acknowledged as you gave him a weak smile "How have you been?"

He shrugged, unsure of how to answer that question.

"You left the army I heard." You stated and he nodded "Must be nice to be free of it."

"Why did you leave?" He choked and you sighed.

Straight to the point.

"Because I had to Francisco." You answered plainly "Because losing the baby, losing Ben, well it was all too much and you didn't want me so I felt like perhaps it would have been better if I left."

"You mean our son?" He stated and you let out a frustrated huff.

"Well, we don't know if he was yours." You repled as you returned your attention to your drink.

"He was." He replied and you looked up at him again, shocked and confused "Ben had ended up getting the test done without us knowing. He was mine."

"Oh." You replied, your heart aching at the thought "Yeah well I needed to get away from it all."

"Did you have to abandon us completely?" He growled, "It wasn't just you who lost him you know."

"Frank-"

"I held myself together for you. Especially after learning that he'd been mine all along and then one day I rock up and you'd fucked off." He growled "I was grieving too and you left me to do that alone. You left and I never knew why."

"Look I'm sorry I hurt you, Frankie." You replied "But let's face it. Our relationship was done after what happened. Losing the baby was the final straw."

Frank didn't say anything else. He just looked you up and down in disgust before leaving for his table and you turned your head to watch him, eyes catching Ben's. You'd always regretted the way you left things but you'd always assumed Frankie would just move on. Seeing him now though. Seeing how sad and sick he looked you wondered if you had played a part in how he looked now. Ben didn't approach you. Just remained where he was and you were grateful for that. You weren't sure you could take any more reunions that night.

You bumped into Ben the following day. You'd gone to a diner you had gone to when you were young and it hadn't been a place you'd ever visited with them so you had been surprised to see him there. It had transpired he was dating one of the waitresses but when you'd walked in, he hadn't hesitated to come and speak to you.

"Long time no see." He said as he sat across from you.

"Yeah." You replied, your guilt making another appearance.

"Where did you go Bug?" He asked and you let out a small sob.

"I uh... I moved to San Antonio." You replied and he nodded "I was never far away."

"Not that we'd have ever known that." He scoffed and you'd winced "It killed Fish what you did."

"I know Ben but-"

"No, you don't." He snapped, shutting you up instantly "You don't know." he paused a moment, taking a sip of his coffee as he thought about what to say "He named him."

"He did?" You asked and Ben nodded.

"Named him Luka." You sobbed at that "Had him buried too. We all forked out for a headstone."

"Ben please-"

"You were fucking selfish leaving." He growled "You lost your baby, I know and my heart bled for you. I grieved for him like he was my own because for a moment he was but you left and Frankie had to deal with his grief without you. You created a life together and you lost it. You should have supported each other."

"I didn't know it was his!" You argued and he scoffed.

"It doesn't matter." He snarled "You shouldn't have left the way you did."

Silence fell over you both for a while. You knew he was right and now that you learned he had named him and even buried him your guilt consumed you even more.

"He uh... He doesn't look well." You said after a short while "Is he sick?"

"In a way." Ben replied "After Luka died and you left, we were deployed to Afghanistan again. Did 3 tours before we all threw in the towel. We all sorta found ways to get reintegrated into society but Fish couldn't. We're helping him with it but he struggles."

"Helping him with what?"

"He's a coke addict Bug." He stated plainly "Currently living on my couch as he lost his house and his job. Luckily not his pilot license but he's in no state to fly"

"What?" You gasped and he nodded.

"He's a mess." Ben stated "He goes to Luka's grave every weekend to sit with him a while though. We celebrate every single birthday too. Don't think he ever moved on."

"You don't." You replied numbly "I never did. I thought moving away from it all would help me heal but the truth is... It never goes away. It just hurts a little less."

"How long are you here for?" He asked and you shrugged.

"My meetings today and then I dunno. I planned to go home but I can work from where ever."

"Please just stay a while." He pleaded "It might help him to see you."

"He seemed pretty disgusted by me last night." You snorted and he sighed.

"Shit Bug I'm desperate here." He choked "I'm scared I'm going to walk through my door one day and he'd gonna have OD'd on my couch. I flush each stash I find but he always seems to have more and I'm losing my fucking mind."

"Okay." You replied, nodding "I'll stay for a little bit but it's not permanent."

"Sure, fine." He replied "Just help me help him. You owe him that at least."

"Yeah." You replied, "I do."

~

Frankie was out of it when Ben got home with you. He was laying on the couch, staring into space and your stomach twisted at the sight of him.

"Fish." Ben said softly as he crouched down so he was eye level with the man "I brought Bug with me."

"You can't have." He said in a pained tone "She left me and our baby."

"I have buddy, see." He said as he motioned for you to come closer "She's right here."

"Hey Frankie." you said gingerly and the man broke down.

You looked at Ben with a concerned expression and he sighed as he scraped a hand over his face.

"He uh... he's pretty out of it. Will be for a while. Why don't you come back later when he's a little more lucid."

"She left me and our baby, Ben." Frankie sobbed and you felt sick.

"I think he's coming down." Ben stated with a sigh "He tends to get really fucking sad when he comes down and then he just shuts himself out from everyone."

"You're good for sticking with him." You stated and Ben snorted

"Someone had to."

That stung. You knew it was aimed at you and you knew you deserved it.

"Is there anything I can get him?"

"Just water. He'll need it." He replied and you nodded, making your way into Benny's kitchen to fetch it.

It was rough, watching Frankie come out of his high. He retreated within himself as Ben said he would but you stayed. You stayed and you waited for him to acknowledge you in some shape or form and when he glanced at you... That was your cue.

"How are you feeling Frank?" You asked softly, handing him another glass of water which he silently accepted from you.

He sipped at it a while before placing it on the coffee table and looking at you with those familiar brown orbs.

"Why are you here?" He asked and you tried not to wince at his question.

"I'm here to help you if I can." You stated and he snorted at you in contempt "You've made a mess of things Francisco. You lost your house! Your parent's house!"

"Shit I know that okay." He snapped "I get that you left and you ended up successful, with the perfect life and the fiancé."

"We broke up." You growled, "How'd you even know that?"

"You're still friends with Beth and whenever I saw her she'd gush about you. Course I didn't give a shit."

"Right." You scoffed "Sounds like it."

"What the fuck do you want from me, huh?" He shouted "You left me behind and look how it turned out for you. Clearly, I was the anchor holding you back so leave! Go back to your perfect life."

"Why did you think coke was a good escape from your demons Frank?" You asked, ignoring his obvious digs at you "Why did you think it would help?"

"Because it takes the pain away a while." He sobbed and your heart broke.

"Pain of what you saw?" You asked and he nodded, his eyes drifting up to you "And what I lost."

"I miss him too you know." You stated as a few tears traced down your cheeks "I carried him inside of me for 5 months. When I saw the blood I sobbed. I knew I was losing him and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

"I go see him all the time." Frankie admitted and you nodded "Ben told you, huh?"

"Yeah, he did." You replied and Frankie let out a breathy chuckle "I want to stop. Fuck I want to I mean look at the state of me but it's so fucking hard Bug."

"Why don't we go see him together?" You suggested and he nodded "We can get through this together Frank. I abandoned you once, I won't do it again."

"It wasn't just Luka I mourned." Frankie sobbed and you gave him a bemused expression "I mourned the loss of you too. It took me losing you for me to realise I was in love with you."

"Frank, you don't need to do this."

"I do." He said firmly "I need to say it out loud because I never have till now."

"Okay." You replied, motioning for him to continue.

"I think I kinda knew all along." He started, picking up his water to take another sip "I couldn't get enough of you and I fooled myself into thinking it was just lust. I mean... I'd always noticed you were attractive but we'd been friends so long it seemed weird to act on any attraction there.

"But when I did, it awoke something in me that I didn't want to admit. You engulfed my every thought. My every waking moment was consumed by the thought of you and the memory of your touch but I convinced myself it was nothing. I'd never been in love before."

He paused a moment, his eyes settling on you finally as he continued.

"After the initial shock of learning you were pregnant wore off I knew that I wanted it. I wanted him so much and when the doctor told me they hadn't been able to save him well... I'd never felt grief like that before."

"Nor I." You piped up, giving him a sad smile.

"I tried so hard to keep myself together for you. You were so sad, and withdrawn and I just wanted to take your pain away but behind closed doors, I was falling apart. I'd popped around yours a few days after Ben and I headed home with a peace offering because I know we'd been overbearing but you were gone. Didn't even leave a note and my heart broke all over again."

"I had to get out Frankie. Everything here reminded me of him, of what I'd lost and I couldn't stand it. I had to put myself first." You said and he nodded numbly "I am genuinely sorry I hurt you. I just... I couldn't stay."

"Right." He said as his eyes drifted to the glass on the coffee table "I'm tired Bug." He said after a moment of awkward silence.

"Sure, okay." You said as you grabbed your things "I'll come by tomorrow and we can see him together."

"Luka." He piped up and you stopped in your tracks "He has a name." He continued as he looked up at you with a pained expression.

"We'll see Luka tomorrow." You said, realising at that moment that that was the first time you'd uttered the name he'd given your son.

~

It was chilly as you walked through the maze of headstones. Frank was in front of you, walking it expertly and showing just how many times he'd made this trip. You'd woken this morning, unsure you were ready to do this. You'd only learned a few days ago that the child you'd lost had been given a name. Not officially, of course, you had the death certificate but you'd danced around the issue of whether to bury him and had, in the end, asked the hospital to deal with it. You'd been unaware that Frankie had taken it upon himself after learning that Luka had indeed been his. When the two of you came to a stop, you were greeted by a pale grey headstone with simple wording on it. You supposed there wasn't much that could have been put on it, he'd online lived after birth for all of 30 minutes but what was written seemed fitting.

You were surprised to see that Frankie had put your last name instead of his and it gave you pause. A million questions then ran through your head as you looked up at the man who was silently sobbing at your side.

"Hey, buddy. I brought momia with me today." He said as he placed a small toy down "Uncle Ben got you a little something, I'll just leave it here for you." He finished before looking over at you and you didn't even think, you just grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"This is beautiful, Frank." You said softly, giving him a small smile "I'm glad you have somewhere to come when you want to remember him."

"He lived." He choked "Even if it was for a really short time, he still lived and he deserved somewhere to rest."

You nodded, eyes drifting to the headstone again and smiling at the array of toys that lay at its base. It was clear it was well maintained. No dead flowers or soiled trinkets like some of the other graves that sat around you, this one was cared for.

"Thank you for coming." He said softly and you smiled at him.

"You're welcome, Frank."

...

A short while later you were dropping him back at Ben's, the two of you coming to a stop at the front door before he stopped and turned to face you. You could tell he was nervous but you weren't sure why. So you waited for him to speak with a smile as your hand gently held his.

"I missed you, Bug." He started, his eyes not leaving the ground in front of your feet "I searched for you. For years but you have loyal friends, no one was willing to tell me where you were." You chuckled at that, but your smile didn't reach your eyes as he continued "I want to get better. I hate being a burden to my friends and you being here now... it's the first time in months I've not wanted a fix."

"That's great." You said with a smile "I'll stay as long as you need me, Frankie." You said, the two of your gazing at each other.

Frankie could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's waited for this moment for so long and now that it was here, he didn't know what to do with it. He glanced at your joined hands before looking back at you and it was your smile that lead him to do it. His free hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss that he poured every ounce of his love and adoration for you into but he was left with a sour taste in his mouth when you pulled away.

"Shit Frank, what are you doing?" You yelped and his stomach sank.

"I-"

"I don't think about you that way anymore. I'm sorry if I lead you on in any way but I moved on." You snapped and he suddenly felt so incredibly foolish.

Of course, you didn't love him anymore.

"I... I'm..." He quickly fumbled for his keys and opened Ben's door "I waited for you for 5 years."

"I didn't ask you to." you answered back and he sobbed.

"No, you just forgot about us all." He said before slipping through the door and slamming it shut.

"Shit." You breathed before resting your head against the cool wood "Frank I'm sorry... I want to help."

"I don't need it." He muttered from the other side and you felt your anger return.

"Fine. I'll head home then." You growled, but he didn't answer "Goodbye, Francisco."

~

You'd been on the road for almost an hour. Ben had called three times in the last five minutes and you were growing irritated. You'd tried to help but Frank was beyond it. You didn't have time to waste on a guy that didn't want to be saved.

It was the fifth ring that you answered, your tone irritated as you spoke "What Ben?"

"Shit Bug, why the hell do you keep hanging up on me?" He snapped and your anger simmered more.

"Because I am driving and I don't need a lecture on how I failed to help Francisco."

"Jesus Bug, I'm not calling to lecture you."

"Then what do you want?" You snapped and you swore you heard a pained sob fall from Ben's lips.

"I'm at the hospital." Your stomach sank "My worst fear came true Bug. I found him half-dead on the couch when I got back. He had crashed in the ambulance. Shit, it's bad Bug... it's really bad."

"What hospital are you at?" You asked, your heart hammering in your chest as guilt started to consume you.

"St David's." He stated and you nodded.

"I'll be there soon." You assured and you knew he was sobbing now.

"Hurry, Bug. Please."

Next

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie ‘catfish’ morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales triple frontier #francisco morales triple frontier #francisco morales x you #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #ben miller x reader #ben miller x you #Benny Miller #Ben Miller #Frankie Morales gif #Pedro Pascal gif

[bluejayblueskies]

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

.

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

.

.

.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

.

.

.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

.

.

.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

[queenshelby]

A NEW WORLD - PART FOUR

A Quiet Place 2 Fanfic 

Pairing: Emmett x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, Gore, Death, Aliens, Violence, Movie Spoilers, etc…

Because you all love a cliff hanger…

***

Day 1

‘Y/N, hurry up, I will be late for school’ Lucas shouted from outside the bathroom door as you stood beside the toilet and wiped your mouth before reaching for your toothbrush which was lying on top of the sink.

‘Coming’ you shouted out just before you opened the bathroom door and put your hair into a bun.

‘Are you still feeling sick?’ Lucas asked and you nodded and yawned at the same time while you pulled a baggy jumper over your head.

‘I am seeing Dr Lauren today before the game this afternoon’ you said as you could see that Lucas was worried about you.

‘But you are still coming to the game too, right?’ he asked and you nodded, responding with a short ‘of course’.

Whilst you tried hard to avoid Emmett and Nora, you still made it to most of Lucas’s baseball games. It was important to him and you hated to upset him.

The bond you had with Lucas was stronger than anything else and you were the one who had taken it upon herself to look after him now that your mother couldn’t.

After you dropped Lucas off at school, you went to work a short shift at the hospital where you were assisting Nora for the day.

It was not how you wanted to spend your day but you had little to no choice. You needed the money and what happened between you and Emmett wasn’t her fault.

You knew that Emmett had confided in Nora about the night in question, but he had never mentioned to her who the woman was he had been with and he promised you to keep it this way until after you and Lucas had moved to Gorgia in two weeks.

‘Good Morning Y/N’ Nora said as you arrived for your shift twenty minutes early and, before you could even respond to her, you had to make another run for the lavatory.

‘Are you alright sweetie?’ Nora shouted out after she followed you to the lady’s room.

‘Yeah’ you huffed as the nausea had subsided once again. This has been ongoing for a week and you felt as though you have lost a few pounds in bodyweight during this short time.

Whatever you tried to eat, it wouldn’t stay inside you for very long and the constant feeling of nausea was horrendous.

After you calmed down a bit, you followed Nora to one of the medical procedure rooms for the morning briefing. You had three women coming in for check-ups before noon and she wanted you to carry them out while she was preparing the weekly medical reports.

‘Are you still feeling ill? Nora asked surprised as she handed you a small cup of water from next to the dispensary and you simply nodded before drinking it all, the entire cup.

‘I am seeing Dr Lauren later, before the baseball game’ you said as your hands were trembling and you reached for the muesli bar in your handbag. You needed to eat, again.

‘Hey, it’s none of my business Y/N, but have you taken a pregnancy test? I am just thinking, it’s much cheaper than seeing Dr Lauren and I felt pretty lousy when I was pregnant with Henry you know. The nausea could be from that’ Nora suggested and you simply starred at her with wide eyes.

Of course, you hadn’t considered this possibility since you were pretty precise with your method of birth control.

‘I am on the patch’ you quickly said, brushing her off and not wanting to discuss this topic with her any further.

‘And on Topamax and St Johns Wort. I’ve seen them in your locker’ Nora said before telling you that both, the medication and the herbal supplement, interfere with the efficiency of hormonal birth control therapy.

Your chin dropped and your face instantly turned pale. You were speechless and simply couldn’t respond to what Nora had just told you. This was the first time you heard about this.

Nervously, you watched her walk to the medicine cabinet and grab a small plastic cup and a white strip pregnancy test.

‘Here you go. You know how to read these. Go on’ she chuckled and you took the cup and trip out of her hand before making your way to the bathroom nervously.

***

‘And?’ Nora asked as you returned from the bathroom. Your face was much more pale than before and it was obvious that you were crying as your eyes were watery and red.

‘Not pregnant’ you said quickly before advising her that you would need to make a quick phone call to Dr Lauren’s surgery before seeing the first patient.

She nodded and you disappeared into the women’s change room to make the call.

***

Your appointment with Dr Lauren later that afternoon was rather quick but, when you left her rooms, there was paperwork for you to sign before the nurse would hand over the medications which you had discussed with Dr Lauren

‘Y/N, for this procedure, we will require you to sign a waiver. The use of the drugs prescribed by Dr Lauren will be effective but we cannot guarantee that there won’t be any complications if you decide not to attend our other clinic for an ultrasound following the chemical abo…’ the nurse said and, just as she did, you watched her stare out of the large window in the reception area. Her chin dropped and her eyes widened as she looked up into the sky.  

‘What the fuck is that?’ you said as you signed the waiver and, at the same time, heard a loud bang coming from the sky outside.

You quickly took your car keys from the reception counter and ran towards the door.

‘Y/N, your tablets…’ the receptionist shouted, holding up the packet of medicine prescribed by Dr Lauren for the procedure, but you were gone.

Quickly, you started up your car and drove to the baseball field where Lucas was playing but, just as you turned the corner into the main street less than two minutes later, you saw people running around everywhere.

You had no idea what was going on as, suddenly, two men ran in front of your vehicle followed by what appeared to be a large creature of some sort.

You panicked and reversed the car quickly, but there was nowhere to go.

‘Holy fuck’ you shouted as, behind you, there were more people running from yet another one of these creatures and, without giving it too much more thought, you opened your car door, grabbed your bag and ran inside the pharmacy.  

‘What the fuck are these things?’ you shouted in fear as you ran behind the counter and the pharmacist Joe cocked his gun just as another creature came taring down through the shop front window.

Joe tried to shoot it, but was taken by it almost instantly while you tried hard not to scream.

Tears were running down your face as you were quietly sitting beneath the counter. You had absolutely no idea what was going on but you had to find a way to get to the baseball field as quickly as possible. Lucas needed your help and you were scared for his life.

But you were stuck as the creature was lurking inside the shop, obviously looking for you or any other humans inside.

You took long and deep breaths and tried to remain calm as you could hear it making the strangest of noises as it walked around the store.

As you were sitting there, your heart was beating out of your chest and you believed that your time had come as the creature drew closer to the counter beneath which you were sitting.

But, to your surprise, after a minute, it turned around, drawn by the sound outside on the street when a large bus hit one of the buildings.

Quietly and slowly, you walked out of the pharmacy as the two creatures were destroying the bus. Without making a sound, you walked along the street from car to car, hiding behind them, trying to be as quiet as you possibly could.

It soon became evident to you that these creatures couldn’t see you. They could only hear you and possibly smell you. But you couldn’t be sure.

Without a car, you made your way to the baseball field which took you at least 20 minutes for what usually would be a two-minute walk.

By this point, the street was quiet and covered in dead bodies and blood. There were no more creatures and no men and women alive. It took these monsters as little as 15 minutes to kill everyone and now there was no longer any screaming or yelling. Just silence, blood-filled streets and human remains.

You tried hard to focus as you finally reached the baseball field. It was abandoned, no more than three or five dead bodies. On the field, there was silence. All you could hear was the cracking of the leaves from the trees surrounding it.

You desperately wanted to yell out for Lucas, trying to find him, but you knew that you couldn’t. You had to be quiet or these creatures may come back.

You searched beneath each bench, behind every tree and inside the locker rooms. But, he was nowhere to be found.

 Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey @janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @basiclassy  @being-worthy  @chaotic-bean-of-smolness  @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​  @vhscillian​  @ysmmsy​  @littlewierdalien​

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#a quiet place #a quiet place 2 #a quiet place imagine #a quiet place fanfic #a quiet place smut #a quiet place ii #a quiet place part 2 #Emmett #emmett x reader #emmett smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

[woniepop]

encore

➜ sunghoon had never fallen in love with anything the way he did with skating. the wind in his face, the crunch of the ice beneath his feet, it was wonderful. and yet, something about it made your blood boil. you once loved ice skating too, for the same reasons as he, but maybe all you needed was a simple goodbye to understand park sunghoon.

wc: 4.6k

genre: ice skating au, best friends to lovers (ish), angst, fluff, romance, slice of life

content warnings: illness, mentions of medication, mentions of blood, death, mentions of anxiety, mentions of fainting, hospitals, angst, death of a loved one

heavily based off Your Lie in April

tagging: @svnghoonie @unghoon @swanlakesujin​ @heeblr @sweetseung @ferxanda @katberri @usdolans @kisshoons @scintillasofbeomgyu @leemika @qngelhoonie​ 

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time i’m writing something like this, so i hop eyou guys enjoy it because i’d be super down to write more in the future. 

Friday, October 16, 2020

The busy sounds of couples, families, and friends fill the air as the cold wind hits your face. Holding hands with your mom, you glide through the ice, laughter filling the entire rink. The bleachers, the other skaters, the floor, it all disappears and the only thing that’s left is you and your mom. Your seven year old self had never felt so alive. 

And yet, here you were, seventeen, staring off into the ice rink as other kids and their mothers ice skated. Ever since you fell in love with the sport it had been the bane of your existence. Mom died, so you stopped. You swore to never go back again, it gave you anxiety. You tried, you really did, but something about being on the ice reminded you so much of the past you wanted to leave behind. It went downhill from then on. 

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” a familiar voice calls out to you. Sunghoon, who had been practicing for his upcoming competition, leans against the side of the rink, talking to you who was sitting on the bleachers. 

“Just my mom again,” you reply. 

“It’s been a while since she passed away, huh. Should we go get some ice cream to cheer you up then?” He says as he skates towards the exit, walking to you. You stand up, bag in hand, and wait for him to change out of his skates. Sunghoon, who had been your best friend since your five year old skating class, had been with you through everything. He always seemed to know just what to say to cheer you up. 

“Hey, y/n. Do you think you’d ever try to skate again?” Sunghoon asks, fully knowing the answer but hoping maybe this time it'll be different. 

“Haha, you really want me to get back into skating that badly?” 

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve done it. You don’t have to compete with me again, you know. But why don’t you just try it again for fun?” 

You stop in your tracks and think about it. It wouldn’t hurt to try for fun. It was your life at one point. “Fine, tomorrow afternoon. But that’s it.” you say, watching his face light up. 

Saturday, October 17, 2020

“Don’t let go, Sunghoon. I SAID DON’T LET GO.” You shout, as he laughs. 

“Y/n, just relax. You know this. I’m letting go now.” 

“SUNGHOON!” you shout. Your legs bent and you stand in place, too scared to move. You watch as he takes your hand and guides you around the rink. The nostalgia comes rushing back. The wind in your face, the feeling of your feet gliding across the ice like nothing, it had been so long. Before you realize it, you had let go of Sunghoon and gone way ahead of him. Looking back, you find him smiling at you. You remember this feeling, and you loved it. 

You’d definitely got your love of skating from your mom. Being the daughter of a professional skater, it had been your dream to be like her. She was and always will be your role model. When you had quit skating you wondered if she’d be disappointed in you for quitting, but thoughts of her always flooded your mind and you could never focus on the task at hand. You knew your mom would never be disappointed in you, but you were disappointed in you. 

It had been half an hour of skating and an all too familiar voice calls out to you.

“Y/n!”

“Mom?” you say in response. You look back, no one. Not soon after, your breathing gets heavy, the world starts spinning and the nostalgia of the rink gets washed over by spots of black, your head was pounding. You keep looking. Where was she? Why was this happening? You wanted to hug her. Was she proud of you? Upset that you didn’t skate anymore? Why did she leave you? Before you know it, you could feel Sunghoon holding you on the floor before going unconscious.

Sunday, October 18, 2020

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Sunghoon says, clutching your hand while kneeling next to your bed. 

“Sunghoon, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.” 

“BUT IT IS! I asked you to skate with me and now you’re hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” you say as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. You look at the clock. 7pm. It was the next day. “Don’t you have practice? Let’s go.” 

“What do you mean let’s go?!? You just woke up??” Sunghoon utters in a panic.

“Yeah, which means I’m energized. I need to make sure you don’t stay there for too long and hurt yourself too.” you say, standing up to shoo Sunghoon out so you can change. “Wait on the couch,” 

A few moments later you both were out the door and on the bus to the ice rink. 

“I’m not going to stay for long then. I don’t want you to be out for too long.” He decides. 

“That’s fine.” 

The noise Sunghoon’s skates made as they hit the ice and the chilly air gave you comfort as you watched him run through his routine. Running his fingers through his hair, your eyes follow him wherever he went. He knew you were watching, which was why he was putting on his best performance. The both of you had never felt butterflies for each other like the way you did now. Before you knew it, the two of you were falling hard. 

“Y/n, let’s go now.” Sunghoon says as his chest rises up and down, panting from his last run. 

“Okay, you did good today.” You compliment him as you walk to the bus. His hand accidentally bumps into yours. You desperately wished that he had gone to hold yours, but he was just your best friend. Nothing more. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence. You stared out the window while Sunghoon stared at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turn to look at him only for him to turn away and pretend like he was looking the other way. Having spent almost everyday for the past ten years with Sunghoon, you guys never needed to talk constantly, having each other there was just enough to have a great day. 

You get off together, but Sunghoon was acting suspiciously jittery. He walks you home, but you see him turn the opposite direction of your house once you’re inside. Weird. 

Alone, Sunghoon gets back on the bus. His home was close enough to walk from your house, though. “What was he doing?”, you thought.

Arriving at his destination, Sunghoon sighs as he puts a hand up to his backpack strap. 

“Name?” the receptionist asks. 

“Park Sunghoon.” 

“Sunghoon! I’m sorry to see you back. You’ve grown so well. The doctor is ready for you in room 306. Good luck!” 

In and out of hospitals ever since the seventh grade, twelve year old Sunghoon stands in the dark hospital hallway, watching his parents cry in the moonlit lobby. He didn’t have much time left, he thought. 

Trudging through the all too familiar hallways, Sunghoon makes a left turn and opens the fourth door to the right. He knew this place like the back of his hand. 

“Hey Sunghoon! Welcome back! Just take a seat over there and I’ll start preparing to run some tests and then we’ll talk about starting your physical therapy.” The doctor says in a way too cheerful voice. 

“That sound’s good. Thank you.” Sunghoon replies. Hearing the sound of the door clicking shut, Sunghoon sat deep in thought. He wanted to skate with you again, but he was worried about your health. Just one more time. That was what he wanted. The glimmer in your eyes, you huge yet adorable smile. He wanted to see it again. 

Next Saturday, October 24, 2020

The day started out hectic but you finally found your seat in the stands. You waited for them to announce Sunghoon. Alas, he came gliding out and the crowd was already cheering. Before he starts his eyes search for you, smile widening when his eyes finally meet with yours. Although he had other passions, like skating, his favorite one would always be you. The music starts and the audience quiets down. You had probably seen this routine over 100 times, but something about the setting, the mood, made it seem like a whole new dance. Every move he made drew you further in. He pushed the audience to the edge of their seats leaving them in awe. It was all for you. Everything about him at that moment was brilliant. Once he ends, the audience roars and Sunghoon, not surprisingly, ends up winning. Of course he won. He was your Sunghoon. 

You make a beeline towards the performers’ hall and jump onto Sunghoon’s back, accidentally hitting his face with the flowers you had purchased a few moments before. 

“Y/n, I told you to stop buying me these. They’re a waste of money.” Sunghoon giggles, happy to see you. You’d had always brushed them off as a pretty reward for a pretty performer, but there had always been a separate meaning behind the red tulips you give him. They would always end up in your home, in the glass vase next to the couch. A gift from your father to your mother, every Friday. Red tulips, the symbol of true love. 

“Alright, I need to go change, wait here.” he says, leaving you behind. 

An hour goes by and you were starting to get a bit worried. You knock on his changing room door. Nothing. Did he leave without you? You knock on the door again, and nothing. Opening the door, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp. Sunghoon had fainted due to exhaustion and the blood from his head injury had stained the floor. 

You call the ambulance and thankfully they arrive quickly. Refusing to leave Sunghoon’s side, you watch as the nurses wrap bandages around his head. This had been the first time you’d seen Sunghoon like this. Was it happening often? Did he not get enough sleep last night? 

“Sunghoon, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You passed out from exhaustion again and we’ve handled your head injury. You’re free to go anytime.” The doctor says. 

“Again?”  you ask. 

“Yeah, but only a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sunghoon says. “My parents have been overreacting and making me get routine tests, though.” 

As a kid, you hated going to the hospital, and Sunghoon knew that. It was bland, it was boring, but most of all it’s the place you lost your mother. You hated the hospital. You’d come almost every month, week even, watching them run tests on your mom, prescribe her what seemed to be like hundreds of different medications, it was terrible. Losing your parent to cancer was not fun. No more skating, no more family days, no more cheering at competitions. Your family dinners turning to just you and your dad, and then just you. Referring to your parents as my “parent,”. Learning how to live life without the person you cherished most. It seemed like your life revolved around that retched place you called the hospital. 

The rain poured and thunder boomed through the quiet hospital. He had sent you home before it rained, not wanting you to get wet and sick from the cold. Sunghoon sat still and thought to himself in his bed. “I see, so I’ve passed out again,” he thinks.

Monday, October 26, 2020

The chair screeches across the floor as Sunghoon drags it to your desk. 

“Y/nnnnnnn” he whines, seeing you eat your gummy worms. 

“No.” 

“But I’m hungryyyy” he cries. You roll your eyes, placing one in his hand. You watch as he holds one side close to his mouth as if he was waiting for something. 

“Sunghoon, what are you doing?” you ask. 

“Bite the other side” he says, causing your face to go red. 

“No”

“yes”

“no” 

“why not?” he says with his best attempt at puppy eyes and a pout. 

“why?” you ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed your tomato red face yet

“cause I want to. we can lady and tramp it.” he says. “you know you want to.” 

“I’m not going to lady and tramp a gummy worm with you. eat it or i’m taking it back.” you argue.

“Fine, but I have a proposal.” he announces. “I want to enter the next competition with you. Just one. Give me one more duet before you quit for good.” 

“no,” you reply. “I’m never skating again.” 

“Why not? You love it” 

“Why do you want me to skate so badly?” you ask. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell you the real reason. He couldn’t tell you he was dying, that was a huge no. 

“I miss being able to skate with my best friend. I feel so lonely.” he says, puppy eyes resurfacing. 

“I’ll think about it then.” 

“Good. Meet me at the ice rink on Saturday at 10am” he exclaims before getting up to go back to his desk. 

“I haven’t even agreed.” 

“Oops I can’t hear you!” he says as you roll your eyes. 

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Little you steps off the ice as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. Running out of the rink into the changing room, you latch on to your mother. 

“Mommy, I’m not gonna win,” you say. Her hand comes up to run her fingers through your hair. She coos at you until your breathing has relaxed. 

“Why don’t you think you’d win, honey? I loved watching you out there. You were so beautiful.” she says. 

“I fell on the ice! Winners don’t do that. I wanted to win just like you.” you manage to sniffle out. You feel your mother give you a kiss on the forehead before kneeling and holding both of your hands. 

“Ah, you see, my love, they do! Mommy fell all the time! She still falls! I promise you no winner has never fallen. Mommy only wins because she knows what it’s like to fall! Even if you don’t win, mommy is very proud of you, okay?” she says. 

You bolt up from your sleep. It was just a dream. Scrunching your face, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out, you force yourself to get ready for the day, not giving any time to be sad and reminisce. 

You enter the complex, Sunghoon standing at the entrance of the rink, impatiently waiting for you. He was so excited. This was going to work out for him. You both walk to the bleachers to satrt lacing your skates, Sunghoon practically bouncing off the walls. 

“Aw man, I forgot my hair tie” you complain. Sunghoon pauses lacing his boots and holds his arm out to you. 

“Here” Sunghoon says as you look at the extra hair tie on his wrist. 

“Why do you have these.” you ask. 

“You always forget.” he says, unsurprised.

“Awwww you were thinking of me?” you teased. 

“Of course, idiot. Did you forget? I’m never not thinking of you” Sunghoon argued, wallking away, leaving you dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato. 

Once again you step into the rink. You were stronger this time. Taking a deep breath you start to glide across the ice once again. It was very unsettling, though. Being on the ice, having fainted the last time you were here. Both you and Sunghoon were on edge, but you were determined to help him win this competition. 

The day was filled with talking with your instructor, cleaning up your spins and jumps, and getting back to where you were before. You were getting it and you showed no signs of panic. Sunghoon was so proud of you. YOU were proud of you.

Sunghoon was happy, and he was hopeful. On his walk home all his thoughts were filled with you. Loving you ever since the seventh grade, when he found out he had an illness. He had decided never to tell you, fearing his time would come and leave you alone, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to push you away, you were his ride or die. His heart ached, he didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want you to have to live alone. 

Opening the door to his home, he walks through the hallway, leaning against the wall limping to his room. Every big event Sunghoon would write you a letter, and so tonight he poured his heart out onto this piece of paper, tears staining his face. 

Sunday, November 1, 2020

On Sunday, you show up to his house unexpectedly but not surprisingly. “Sunghoon, get dressed. We’re going to the market.” you say. Without question, he does as you ask and you both head to the market in no time.

Walking down the ice cream aisle, you grab all the flavors you enjoy, filling your whole basket with different ice creams, toppings, fruit, drinks, and even a cake. “You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Sunghoon teases, earning him a slap to the arm.

As soon as you get home, you send Sunghoon alone to his bedroom, telling him you need time to prepare everything. You had pulled all the stops, whipping out the cheap snoopy shaved ice maker, birthday party hats, streamers, balloons, and banners. It was no one’s birthday in particular, but the fake birthday party put you in a festive and refreshing mood. You had set up a giant ice cream sundae bar, and had even made lemonade.

Calling Sunghoon to come out of the bedroom, he was not surprised but very impressed. Wanting to make it even more fun, he suggests to make sundaes for one another, which you happily agree to. The day was so fun, and it was hardly possible, but Sunghoon had fallen in love with you even more. 

Sunghoon was so happy that you planned something like this. He was never one to do anything cute for you unless you begged, so this time he wanted to show you how grateful he was to you by giving you one FREE boop on the nose. Scooping some ice cream with his fingertip, he lightly taps your nose, leaving the melted strawberry ice cream to drip off your nose. You turn to look at him in disgust, eventually dipping your finger in the ice cream and starting a war. 

Monday, November 2, 2020

From: Sunghoon (sent at 7:30am) 

[ GOOD MORNIN PARTY PEOPLE!!! ] 

From: you

[ where are you ]

From: Sunghoon

[ Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I’m not coming today. ]

From: you

[ what, why? I don’t wanna eat lunch alone like a loser. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ oh yeah. i’m back at the hospital LMAOOOO ]

From: you

[ WHY ]

From: Sunghoon

[ idk i forgot. i just woke up here and they were like “hihi” and i said “hihi” back ]

From: you

[ you are unbelievable. i’m coming after school. ]

From: Sunghoon

[ NO DON’T ] 

From: you

[ why ]

From: Sunghoon 

[ i don’t wanna get yelled at again. only come if you bring me more gummy worms ]

From: you

[ fine. since you’re sick ] 

You acted like you didn’t care, but you were so worried. What could’ve happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Even when bed ridden, he still managed to get you to fall head over heels. 

That afternoon, you arrive at the hospital, finding Sunghoon playing video games while lying in bed. You chuckled. Even with head bandages and an IV drip, he still managed to be his teenage boyish self. 

“Y/n! Today was so boring. Can we take a walk in the garden, I’m sick of being here.” he asks, to which you reluctantly agreed. 

During your stroll you talked about anything and everything, a common activity you both did. 

“How was school today? Did you miss me?” Sunghoon asks cheekily. 

“I did actually. I didn’t realize how much time I spend with you until today.” you respond. “But, it was okay. I got your gummy worms and some other snacks too. I know you hate hospital food.” 

“Well I missed you too, there was no one but the staff to bother.” He chuckles. “You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.” 

“I know, but we have time.” 

Before you knew it, the sun was setting and Sunghoon sent you home so you didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. On his walk back to his room, Sunghoon worried. The thing was, you didn’t have time. The fact that you missed him in just a few hours? How would you feel about forever? He never wanted you to have bad days, let alone be the one to cause them. 

Walking through the hallways he trips and falls. Landing on his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t his legs move? He punched his leg. Nothing. Again. It was no use. He had lost feeling in his legs. Tears start pouring out of his eyes. Move, it’s just your leg. Get up. Move. Water droplets fall from his face as he bangs his fist on the floor. Why can’t he move. Eventually he gives up, dragging himself back to his room with his arms. They hurt. His heart hurt. Everything hurt. Was this it?

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

After last night’s events, Sunghoon felt out of it. He wouldn’t be able to go back to school for a while, the nurses claiming that if it happens again the situation can be way worse. He couldn’t skate anymore. He couldn’t see YOU skate anymore. This was it. His illness was getting to him. 

With a knock on the door, Sunghoon falls right out of his daze and watches as you come in with another bag of goodies. 

“I brought you some stuff from the convenience store.” You say, taking out a bottle of green tea and handing it to him. He reaches out to grab it but as soon as you let go the bottle slips out of his hands. 

Ah, so it’s spreading to my arms too, he thinks as he realizes he was too weak to grip the bottle. The doctors told his parents last night that surgery was an option, but it would only give him a little more time, but he wanted to take it. He wanted to be able to skate a little longer. He wanted to make it to the competition. 

“I’m in the mood to watch all the Studio Ghibli movies in one sitting.” Sunghoon says as he leans his head back. 

“Scoot over,” you reply, getting up to sit in his bed with him. “Good thing I brought my laptop.” 

“Are you sure? That’s gonna be like all night.” He asks. 

“Of course, I’m always in the mood for you,” you say as Sunghoon wraps an arm around you, prepared for the whole night of cuddling and movie watching. 

Half way through the marathon you feel Sunghoon nuzzle his face into your neck. His soft snoring tickled you. You bring your hand up to stroke his hair. Park Sunghoon, I am so in love with you, you think.  Your smile. Your eyes. Your lips. Your hair. Your voice. You teasing. The way you say my name. The way you stare at me. The way you talk. The way you smile at me. The way my day isn’t complete without you. I love you. 

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

The next day was supposed to be better. Sunghoon was going to see you and you were gonna get him more gummy worms. Sitting up with him on his bed, you were cuddling, and he seemed to be getting paler and paler by the minute. He seemed really tired, like he was sick to his stomach. 

You got up to go get him a drink from the vending machine, and as you came back nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of your best friend’s room. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of it’s chest and you run to his room. Sunghoon was clutching onto the sides of the bed, doctors scrambling to get the defibrillator going. His heart had stopped.

You’d later learn that he had gone into cardiac arrest, and you watched as the nurses wheeled his bed to the ICU. But the surgery didn’t work, and he didn’t survive. You felt numb. Stretching out a trembling arm, you took hold of Sunghoon’s hand. You shut your eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. Your  hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Sunghoon to wake up. Your face buried into the crook of his neck. You nudged the bridge of your nose against the cool skin. Your lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Sunghoon’s, quavering without pause. Devastation weighed down on you. It was a surreal feeling, one that you could never in one million years describe. It squeezed you, threatening to crush you from the inside out. The pain seared itself into your soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were. A sob wretched its way out from your throat. You tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep yourself together, but you knew you were too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left you, you felt yourself spiraling. There was no hiding it.

The doctor comes to hand you a letter. Weakly reaching out, you read it right away. You were desperate. You needed to hear something from Sunghoon, anything. 

Dear Y/n,

HI BESTIE, I know I write you one of these every big event, but I’m afraid this might be my last. I’m sorry if you’re getting the before the competition. I desperately wanted to skate with you, but I guess if you’re reading this then my time has come. I hope you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to miss me too much. Please keep skating. I love watching you skate, more than anything. You look so happy, so carefree. I want you to live like that always. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I don’t want you to associate something you love so much with sadness. I’m with your mom now, and we’re rooting for you. Always. 

I know it was pretty obvious, but I love you. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts when I’m not with you. I’m in love with you. And I love that I’m in love with you. I love the feelings. The happiness when I think of you, the butterflies when you text me, the excitement I get when I know I’ll get to see you. It’s amazing. And you’re amazing, and I love you. And I’m sorry I had to keep so many secrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the competition. I’m sorry for not telling you about my illness. I didn’t want you to carry this burden with me. You’re the light of my life, Y/n. I love you. 

Love, 

your bestie, sunghoon. 

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