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wicked-mind · 3 years

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Remember Me: Chapter Seven

Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing (I like swearing. Adds character and sounds pretty to me lol), mentions of surgical procedures, car crash, miscarriage, John Walker, slight bit of PTSD.

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As always, any likes, reblog, or comments are appreciated (:

*gifs not mine

Previously

Y/N removed her eyes from his face, listening to the story. Her forehead creased a moment as she thought about all that was said before meeting his gaze once again. A small smile curved on her lips and she leaned towards him, kissing his lips softly before pulling away slightly to look at him, “I forgive you, Bucky."

Bucky felt relief flood through him at her words, smiling down to her. He couldn’t find any words to say to her so instead he returned his arms around her body and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. Those were words Bucky had waited to hear for so long and for a while he didn’t know if he would ever hear them from Y/N. Everything seemed right in the world for now, and even though he was worried about what was written in those journals John had given her due to what Steve had said, he hoped that whatever else it was would be forgiven also.

Truth was, Y/N always had forgiven Bucky for what was said the moment she left. She knew it was from his own fears. But what had broken her heart was hidden in the pages of those journals.

Chapter seven - The truth in the writing

Y/N wasn’t supposed to be back to work until noon, but she got called in early due to an apartment fire that would lead to multiple traumas coming in meaning it was all hands on deck. Bucky watched her pack the yellow folder John had given to her last night into her backpack before taking her to the hospital. He came back to Steve’s to find him and Peggy having some coffee. Bucky grabbed himself a mug of the dark liquid before leaning against the counter, “She took the journals with her.” He said over to Steve.

Peggy narrowed her eyes as they flickered between the two, “What journals?”

Steve sighed, sitting at the dining table next to Peggy, “Y/N’s friend, that blonde guy named John, brought some of her journals that were left behind at her base camp. Says there’s everything in there.” He informed.

“Yeah, including something we don’t know about.” Bucky grumbled out, “Something that made our break-up worse than just the words that were said.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He replayed that night so many times in his head that every moment was burned into his brain and he couldn’t think of anything other than what was said before she left, “We gotta figure this out. So I can at least try to make it better after she reads whatever is in there.”

Peggy set her glass mug on the table, “Okay, then let’s walk through it.” She said helpfully, “Y/N came here that night after her shift and showed us the deployment papers with the date for her to leave set in a month, June 7th. She was so excited to tell you that she left immediately after. What happened at your house, James?”

Bucky sighs, setting his mug down on the counter to run a hand through his dark hair, “She came in all excited and jumped into my arms. Everything was fine and then she showed me the papers. We argued about it because I didn’t want her to go. I told her if she walked out those doors I wouldn’t be here waiting for her and not to come back. And then she left.” He flinched at his own words. He hated that he had said that to Y/N.

Steve leans back in his chair, “Then she came back here in tears and frantic. We tried to get her to talk to us about what happened but she just packed her bags, got in her car, and left.” He sighs, “I called her everyday for about four days until she finally picked up and told me she was fine, just needed some space, and she would be back soon. After that, I didn’t hear from her until she was deployed.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side at Steve, narrowing his eyes, “You never told me that.”

Steve scoffs slightly, “Yeah, well, you made my sister run away, we weren’t exactly on the best speaking terms, Buck.”

“So we have no idea where she was or what she was doing for a month before she was deployed?” Peggy interrupted, watching Bucky and Steve shake their heads to say no. She bit her bottom lip for a moment, “Maybe something happened in that month.”

Bucky looked over from Peggy to Steve, “What did she say while she was deployed?” He asks curiously, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Steve looked from Peggy to Bucky, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips for a drink before setting it back down, “Y/N called me when she got to the base, told me she made it safe and she was sorry she didn’t come back before she left, that she couldn’t come back. I asked her what happened between you two and she told me what was said. I told her you didn’t mean it and to at least give you a call.” He watched Bucky’s features soften for a moment, “There were a few more phone calls. She told me what you said hurt, but that she was okay and there was another reason she couldn’t come home or talk to you. We didn’t really talk about you two after that.”

Bucky groaned slightly. What had happened? The more he thought about it the more the timeline didn’t make sense. Everything had been fine between them the days, even weeks leading up to when she ran away were fine. He sighs looking back to Steve, “I don’t know, man.” He said, “Everything was great. We made cookies together, went on rides, had a Star Wars marathon. Everything was perfect… So perfect in fact I bought a damn engagement ring.”

Steve looked at Bucky with almost fully wide eyes before looking at Peggy who was sipping her coffee avoiding eye contact, “You knew about this, Peggy?”

Peggy put her coffee down, pursing her lips a little before speaking, “Of course I knew! Who do you think had to help him pick out the damn thing?”

Steve nodded and turned his attention back to Bucky, “Wow.” He said still nodding, “Well, now I really wish things would’ve gone differently. She would’ve been so excited.” He said with a small smile towards Bucky. Steve had always trusted Bucky with Y/N. The way he treated her was like a queen.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile for a moment at Steve’s approval before it faded back into a stern line. He was going to ask Steve for help with the proposal when Bucky eventually figured out how to ask, but hadn’t gotten around to it before it all went to shit, “So nobody knows what the reason is…”

Steve nodded slowly, “Well… none of us know. But there is one person who does.”

Bucky groaned a little again and rubs his hand along his face, “God, I really hate John Walker.”

—

Y/N dealt with the wave of incoming traumas from the apartment building fire, running point on sorting patients by the degree of their injuries to create a steady flow in the operating room and emergency room. Once everything had died down, Y/N sat in the attending’s lounge eating a sandwich and starting to go through yellow folder from her backpack. There were photos of Y/N with Bucky and some of her with Steve and Peggy as well of her with John. There were also photos of her while she was deployed mostly doing silly poses in the middle of nowhere. She placed the photos back into the folder and pulled out the two notebooks next. They were leather-bound full sized journals. She opened the first one that looked just a bit more well used, figuring it was the first one. Her brow furrowed when she turned to the first page. It was dated at the top, May 15, 2019 but the rest of the page looked like the words had been gone over with permanent marker. Y/N turned to the next page and the next but for about ten pages over the next ten days from May 15th, all the words had been scribbled over with permanent marker, “Well, that’s just great.” She mutters out to herself softly, “Thanks me. Super helpful.”

Y/N finally found a page with actual words instead of just a page of black marker, the date read May 25th, 2019. It was filled with the words repeating ‘I am not my trauma.’ over and over again until the last line that read:

I’ll forget the piece that was taken away from me.

She frowned a little. What trauma did this refer to? What had happened? She turns the page quickly to read the next page.

May 26th, 2019

I leave in eleven days.

I want more than anything to call him. I don’t know what I would say. How do I explain what happened. Where do I begin?

He told me if I leave to never come back. That he won’t be waiting for me.

A part of me knows that’s a lie. I know he’d be there with open arms if he knew what happened.

I found that ring after all…

Y/N had to read the line over again a few times. Ring? There was a ring?

But how would he feel if he knew how ruined I was?

His sun swallowed into a dark pit.

He loves me. And I don’t think I’m me anymore.

Nobody wants broken things.

May 28th, 2019

I want to feel safe again.

They say writing down what I feel is going to ground me to reality. They also said I should call somebody. I can’t do that. I can’t let them know how much I hurt. I just want to run as far away as possible and that’s what I’ll do. I need to get out of here. It feels like I can’t breathe and everywhere I look I’m met with eyes filled with pity. It makes everything worse the way they look at me and stare. I get released tomorrow, I’m signing out AMA. Then it’s just nine more days. Maybe it’ll replace my trauma with a different trauma. Anything would be better than this.

I miss Bucky. I miss running my fingers through his hair and the way his stubble would brush against my skin. I miss being in his arms the most. They were so safe like nothing could ever hurt me. I wish I would’ve stayed then none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve just fought about it then go to bed and sort it out until I left. At least then I would’ve felt save and would’ve been safe.

I think the worst part about our fight was that I knew about the ring. I found it in his boxer drawer when putting away his laundry. You’d figure he would’ve picked a better hiding spot, but nope. He’s never been good at hiding things from me. I was halfway expecting him to propose when I showed him my deployment papers so we both had something to look forward to when I came back. I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he did. After all, James Buchanan Barnes is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. But that’s not what happened. And here I am stuck in pain and guilt.

Y/N shut the book when she heard someone come in, wiping away some tears she hadn’t noticed falling from her cheeks. She looks over and put on her best smile for Chief Miller, “Afternoon, Chief.”

Miller had his hands tucked in his pockets, “Everything okay, Y/N?” He asks gently, nothing the tear brimmed eyes.

Y/N nodded, keeping the same smile on her face, “Yeah, everything’s good. A friend brought me some journals to see if they’ll help me remember. It’s just confusing and a lot to read.” She said softly, “Were you looking for me?”

Miller nodded at her words, “I’m sorry, that must be hard.” He said with a reassuring smile, “I was just getting all your medical records transferred over and one was locked from a hospital in Queens. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to unlock it so we have that information on file in case it’s needed in the future.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, her brow pulling together in confusion, “I don’t remember what the nature of that visit would be… Did it have a date? I can call the doctor from the hospital to get it unlocked if I know the date.”

“May 14th, 2019.” Miller replied, “The doctors name I think was Wanda Maximoff.”

Y/N nodded slowly at the date. It was the day before her journal started with the scribbled out pages. She pushed the journal into her backpack, “Thanks, Chief. I’ll give them a call.” She said with a small smile before standing and leaving the room. She found an empty office with a computer, googling the hospital in Queens and asking for Dr. Maximoff.

“This is Dr. Maximoff.” A woman with an accent said over the phone when Y/N was connected.

“Hi, this is Dr. Rogers from Brooklyn Mercy. I was calling about a locked file in my health records.”

“Oh, Y/N! How have you been? Are you back from deployment?”

“Been better… And yes, I am. I was calling because a medical report of mine from May 14, 2019 is sealed and I don’t remember the nature of the visit. I lost a lot of my memories due to an incident overseas and I’m trying to put pieces together.”

“I see.. I’m so sorry to hear that. Our hospital isn’t too far from Brooklyn Mercy, I think we should talk about this in person given the situation. I’ll drive down and meet you in about forty-five minutes, would that work?”

“That’d be perfect, thank you Dr. Maximoff.” Y/N said before enhancing goodbyes and hanging up. It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest with how fast it was racing and she felt sick to her stomach as she tried to remember what happened. Whatever happened, it was bad enough that Dr. Maximoff was coming to tell her in person.

Y/N asked Chief Miller if he would be there when she went over the information with Maximoff, wanting some sort of support in case whatever happened was really bad. She kept adjusting herself in the chair in front of Chief Miller, nervous for whatever information was about to come out. She put on a small smile when Dr. Maximoff came into the office holding a medical file, shaking her hand and watching her take a seat in the chair next to her, “Nice to meet you again, Dr. Maximoff.”

“Oh call me Wanda. And again, I’m very sorry about your memory loss. I want to start by saying that we have support groups I can recommend after we talk about this information. Given that you don’t remember, it is possible you’ll go through all the emotions and grief again.” Wanda said before placing the file on Chief Miller’s desk and opening it slowly, “The night of May 14th, 2019 paramedics responded to an accident involving two vehicles. You were in one of them. It was determined the other driver was driving under the influence and had a large amount of alcohol in his system.”

Y/N nodded slowly, watching Wanda instead of looking at the file. Her eyes were full of kindness, even maybe a little pity, “What happened to the drunk driver?”

“He died in surgery. With the amount of alcohol in his system, the bleeding couldn’t be controlled and the damage was too severe.” Wanda said before continuing, “It was later determined that he was going forty miles per hour over the speed limit and from your statement, he was driving down the wrong side of the road with his headlights off. You didn’t see him coming until it was too late.”

“How bad was it?” Y/N asks softly, picking at her fingers nervously as she listened.

Wanda sighs, flipping through pages of the file on Chief Miller’s desk, “You sustained abdominal bleeding, two fractured ribs, and superficial lacerations that our head of plastic surgery took care of which is why there is no scarring. You made me promise not to call your emergency contacts.” Wanda paused, observing Y/N’s reaction but she was just sitting there nodding, “We took blood samples to cross match your blood so we couldn’t have to keep giving you O-negative blood. Those blood tests showed trace amounts of the hCG hormone. After we took care of the abdominal bleeding, you miscarried from stress. You didn’t know you were pregnant. You asked me to seal the records of the accident and you signed yourself out against medical advice.”

Y/N took a deep ragged breath, looking down at the floor in shock. The writings in the journal were making sense. She could hear Chief Miller and Wanda asking if she was okay but they sounded distant and like they were underwater. Flashes started coming back in her mind of that night. She was driving down the road back to her hotel she was staying at, crying and listening to sad songs on the radio when the crash happened. Y/N put her hand on her chest as her breathing became more erratic, it was like she couldn’t get enough air. She could see Wanda and Miller trying to ask if she was okay and calm her down but their voices were so different and everything around her was swaying. She remembered sitting in a hospital bed and crying over the news and the guilt she felt for leaving the safety of Bucky, “Can’t breathe…” She whispers out, trying to stand slowly from the chair. Y/N remembered the day after it happened, Wanda brought the journals to her hoping it would help to write what she was feeling since she wouldn’t contact anybody. She remembered the grief she felt as well as the shock and pain. This was the reason she didn’t come back to Bucky and avoided him, she didn’t know what to tell him. The world was swaying like she was on a boat and it felt like she was underwater, unable to get air in her lungs or hear the muffled sounds coming from Chief Miller and Wanda. She stumbled around at the room spinning, blinking rapidly before the world around her started fading to black and she fell onto the floor.

——

Steve, Peggy, and Bucky were still all trying to figure out events that lead up to Y/N running away a month before her deployment, trying to think of any clues that would help put the puzzle pieces together.

Steve’s phone starting ringing and he excused himself from the conversation to take the call, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Doctor Miller, Chief of Surgery over at Brooklyn Mercy. Is this Steve Rogers, Y/N’s brother?”

“This is Steve. Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything is alright. I’m just giving you a call to ask you to come in. Your sister had a pretty serious panic attack and lost consciousness. I think it would be good if you came in.”

“What? Yeah, I’m on my way.” Steve said, walking back into the kitchen, “We have to go, Y/N’s been admitted to the hospital for a panic attack.”

Bucky frowns, “Probably read those damn journals.” He growled out, turning immediately and walking out the front door to his motorcycle and speeding down the road towards the hospital with Peggy and Steve right behind him in their car.

When they arrived at the hospital, Chief Miller was waiting for them at the front doors. He lead them up to the room Y/N was in where she was talking to Wanda with the door closed and crying, pulling an oxygen mask up to her mouth every so often. Bucky looked through the window to the room before noticing that none other than John Walker was standing a little bit away from the room leaning against the wall with a frown. Bucky immediately felt rage consume him, stomping over to John and pushing him against the wall, “What were in those journals?!” He yelled before landing a punch to John’s cheek.

John winced at the hit and pushed Bucky away from him, “She knew about the ring, asshole! She thought you were going to propose that night but instead you broke up with her!”

Chief Miller and Steve quickly pulled the two apart, Miller holding John back while Steve held Bucky back, “That’s not what it was about! Now knock if off before I call security.” Chief Miller said, moving to stand between the men, “Due to her privacy, I can’t tell you what it was but it wasn’t about a ring.”

“She knew about the ring?” Bucky said, wide eyed as he processed the words. No wonder she had been so mad at him and what he had said. She thought she was coming home to a potential proposal and instead he told her if she left to never come back.

Peggy had separated herself from all the testosterone and walked into the room Y/N was in, shutting the door behind her, “I’m Peggy, her sister-in-law.” She told Wanda before she took a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently taking her head, “Are you okay, honey?”

Y/N shook her head rapidly, keeping the oxygen mask pressed to her mouth and nose as she cried into it. She remembered the pain when Wanda had told her she miscarried and feeling alone due to the fight she had with Bucky. It was the reason she had ran- she didn’t feel like she had a home to go back to and she wouldn’t know what Bucky would think if she told him she had lost their child. All Bucky had wanted was to grow up and have a family with her and she ruined that. Her gaze set on Bucky through the window and she pulled the blanket on her legs up over her head, sobbing loudly underneath the blanket. How could she even look at him knowing what she knew now?

Wanda got up to close the blinds in the window before returning the chair placed next to the bed, “Y/N,” Wanda asks gently, reaching out a hand to rest reassuringly on Y/N’s leg over the blanket, “You’ve dealt with this pain alone for a long time and you’re going through it again like it’s fresh. You should talk to someone about it, you need support.”

Y/N pulled the blanket off her head at the sound of the blinds shutting, looking at Wanda through her blurry tear filled eyes, “I can’t…You… You tell Peggy… I can’t… I can’t.” She sobbed out, dropping the oxygen mask to her lap and putting her face in her hands.

Wanda looks over to Peggy who was eyeing her curiously, “The night of May 14th, 2019 Y/N was brought in after her car was hit by a drunk driver. We took care of all the injuries… But we found out she was about six weeks pregnant. Due to the stress of her injuries and the stress she was already under, she miscarried.”

Peggy’s jaw dropped at the news, slowly looking over to Y/N. She quickly adjusted herself on the bed to scoot closer to Y/N, pulling her into a secure hug and stroking her hair softly, “Shh… It’s okay… I’m so sorry, honey…I’m here…” She soothed gently. It all made sense of why Y/N didn’t come back before she was deployed and why she never talked to Bucky.

Eventually Wanda offered a light sedation for Y/N since she couldn’t stop crying and keep her breathing under control. Y/N drifted off to sleep from the sedative, her mind finally calming but the ache in her body didn’t fade. When she opened her eyes, it was nighttime. She looked over to the window to see Peggy and Steve talking to Wanda and Chief Miller outside of the room. Her attention was take when she felt a soft squeeze of her hand, looking over and seeing Bucky sitting in the chair staring at her with a small smile. The sight of him almost made her break again, pulling her hand out of his grasp and pulling the blanket up over her head to hide from his face.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky said with a small frown when she hid away from him under the blanket, “Baby, come on look at me. Talk to me.” He pleaded, trying to pull the blanket away from her face, “What happened, doll?”

Y.N eventually quit fighting the tug of war with the blanket, letting him pull it away from her face. She didn’t meet his gaze though, staring into her lap as tears started to roll down her face. She was amazed she still had any water left in her body to cry, “I can’t… You should go…”

“Fuck that, darlin. I’m not going anywhere when you’re crying.” Bucky told her, moving himself from the chair to sit by her bedside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning close and kissing her temple softly, “Talk to me, please.”

“I can’t.” Y/N replied, still not meeting his gaze as she shook her head, “I was finally feeling like everything was right in the world… Like I was back where I belonged with you… Safe.” She took in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly, “Now, it’s just all going to be ruined again. We’ll be ruined. You’ll leave.”

Bucky’s frown deepened at her words as scenarios ran through his mind of what Y/N could be talking about, studying her features intently, “No we won’t. I told you that you are the love of my life, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that.” He told her, moving his position to take her face in his hand and forcing her to look at him, “Now talk to me.”

Y/N stared at Bucky for what felt like forever, studying his face. She wondered what would reflect back to her in his eyes when she told him. Right now his eyes were pooled with concern for her but once she would tell him, they knew that concern would leave, “The night we fought… May seventh right?” She watched him nod, “On May fourteenth I was driving and I was hit by a drunk driver. I was taken to a hospital in Queens where I was treated.” She watched the concern grow in his eyes at her words, “I didn’t know I was six weeks pregnant and I lost the baby… Our baby… I would’ve came back if I knew, never left… But after I couldn’t come back to you.”

Bucky’s mouth parted slightly at the words, his eyes moving across the features of her face watching the tears leak down her face. He hadn’t even noticed his own tears starting to fall at the news. Guilt raked through his body at the words he had said that made her leave, put her in that position to get hurt. It would have never happened if he would’ve swallowed his own fear and anger at her deployment. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, “I’m so sorry, doll.” He said through his own shaky breathes, trying to control his breathing as he cried, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did this, it’s my fault… I’m so sorry.”

_____________________________________________________________Taglist: @vicmc624 @buckypops @shawnie--jo @ahahafudge @intothesoul @austynparksandpizza @stcrryslibrary

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#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic series

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years

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champagne problems, ch.7

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Seven: Seasons (Waiting On You): The team receives their Save The Dates. Some take it better than others. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2k Warnings: cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, mentions of cheating, very angsty, kinda fluffy but not really, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

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A/N: heads up, i did not proof read this chapter. i rewrote it twice so forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. also, thank you for your continuous love and support aah! i know i say this all the time but it means so much to me!

To say you were simply feeling anxious would be an understatement. The mix of emotions that circled your mind and soul was nauseating. It hurt to move.

What you were currently troubled with was legitimately difficult. A kiss between friends, ex lovers. A forbidden kiss. A kiss that messed with your head, and unlocked something inside of you that was buried a long time ago. And as the brunette doctor called it, a goodbye kiss.

In a way, the anxiety that riddled you to the bone was a good sign. It showed that you could grasp the problem, that you weren't in denial. In a situation such as this, it would be odd to not feel the nerves. Right?

Slowly, using all your strength, you opened the glass door to the bullpen and wend your way towards your desk. Head held high, a sway to your step. Trying hard not to show how you were really feeling.

The aching in your skull spread through your whole body like wildfire. Memories of the night before haunted you like a ghost - a ghost you’d have to face in a matter of seconds.

Spencer noticed you immediately. He sat up straight in his seat and cracked a timid smile your way. Nervously, you half-smiled back at him before looking away. The nausea was now inferable.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him get to his feet. He straightened his tie and ambled his way in your direction.

“Good morning.” The soothing sound of his voice was enough to make your knees buckle underneath you. “How uhm, how are you?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. All that replayed in your head was the kiss. The magical, sultry moment that your lips touched. His hands holding your face. Heart beating hard in unison with yours as your fingers tangled in his hair. You hated yourself for it.

And you were about to feel even worse.

“I’m o-okay.” You replied without looking at him. From the handbag you placed onto of your desk, you retrieved a small stack of envelopes. Hands shaking, you finally turned to him and nervously glanced up to meet his gaze.

The look in his eyes was clearly one of heartache. Even though he didn't show it now, or last night for that matter, you could tell he was feeling just as troubled as you about all of this.

“This is for you.” You handed him one of the envelopes.

“Oh. Thank you.” Spencer responded, taking the item. “What is it?” He asked, curiously raising a brow.

Before you got a chance to tell him, explain that you had this planned for today long before, Penelope appeared next to you. She gave you a quick hug before greeting the brunette doctor with a wide smile. Her gaze traveled down to the envelope in his hands and an excited shriek escaped her lips.

“Is that what I think it is?” She turned to you. To answer Penelope’s question, you handed her one of the envelopes you were clinging tightly against your chest.

She clapped her hands before taking the small paper pouch. She didn't waste any time to rip it open, carefully as not to damage what she suspected was inside. You glanced up at Spencer who was intensively watching Penelope’s every move.

A wide grin on her face, she retrieved the contents. “A save the dateee! Ooh, this is so exciting!” She sang.

Spencer’s face fell. He tilted his head to look back at you. His grip on the paper envelope in his hands tightening.

Truthfully, he still held out hope that perhaps one day he would get to call you his once again. He didn't really mean what he said yesterday after kissing you. A goodbye kiss. He only said those words because they felt like something you needed to hear after he crossed that line. He didn't mean it.

Now, you were handing out save the dates. It made your impending wedding all the more real. You had picked a date. Coincidently, you chose to share that with the world the day after he kissed you.

His heart ached. The feeling of guilt was eating him alive on the inside. He couldn't help feel like this was all his fault. He couldn't help but wonder whether you did this on purpose. He knew of course you weren't that type of person, it had to be a terrible coincidence, and yet.

If he had just stopped himself, if he hadn't kissed you, perhaps this wouldn't be happening right now. If he hadn't kissed you, perhaps you wouldn't feel the need to remind everyone you were engaged to be married.

Spencer promptly excused himself and rushed away. He couldn't be around you right now. He couldn't listen to Penelope repeat over and over again how happy she was for you. How happy she was that one of her best friends was getting married soon. So soon.

Too soon for his liking.

He pushed open the bathroom door and hurried inside. Placing the envelope next to the sink, he fumbled with the tap and splashed the cold water on his face. A desperate attempt to calm his nerves.

He pressed his palms into the tiled counter, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. He told you yesterday that nothing was stopping you from your happily ever after, so he shouldn't have been so surprised that in a way you listened. Once again, Spencer pushed you into the arms of the man he envied.

This was all his fault. He shouldn't have kissed you. And he definitely shouldn't have said what he said.

He turned the tap off and ran a hand through his wavy hair. He picked up the envelope and opened it. The piece of paper inside was beautifully designed. Simple and elegant, just your style.

Save Our Date

Y/N and Ethan are getting married

June 15th Alexandria, VA

formal invitations to follow

The date screamed out at him. June fifteenth was only a few months away. With a heavy sigh, he placed the paper in the inside pocket of his blazer and walked out of the bathroom.

“Spencer.”

The sound of his name caused him to turn back on his heel. You were leaning against the wall, by the bathroom door. An apologetic look gracing your features.

“I’m so sorry Spencer.” You said approaching him. “We had this planned for weeks, and it just so happened...” You found yourself unable to finish that sentence, but the brunette doctor knew exactly what you were going to say - it just so happened that the save the dates were sent and given out the day after he kissed you.

“I swear it wasn’t intentional.” You reassured. Spencer nodded his head. “I believe you Y/N. You don't have to apologise, or explain yourself.” He stated.

“I just- I...” You sighed. “Are we okay?”

The question caught him slightly off guard.

You were planning for what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, with the love of of your life, yet you were worried about your relationship with the man that turned you into a, for lack of a better word, cheat.

He knew he couldn't answer your question honestly because that would complicate things even more. You already appeared to be worried about hurting Spencer’s feelings further when you should have been celebrating this moment. It only made him feel worse about himself. Therefore he did what any person in his situation would do.

“Of course we’re okay.” He lied, lips twirling into a warm smile. He extended his arms out and like a magnet you melted into his embrace. If you weren't as exhausted, you would have noticed he was lying. Instead, you rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes. A rush of relief cascading through you, replacing the nausea that’s been following you since last night.

“Good.” You muttered into his shirt. “I'm glad we are.”

You pulled away after a glorious moment and the two of you walked back to your desks in neutral silence.

The rest of the day flew by in the blink of an eye and just like that it was time to go home. Ethan returned from his conference earlier that afternoon meaning you couldn't stay longer, like the previous nights. You said your goodbyes to everyone before turning your attention to the hazel-eyed man.

“Do you need a lift home Spencer?” You offered, but he shook his head. “No. I still have a few things I need to get done.” He declined politely. You nodded in understanding and shot him a kind smile. “See you tomorrow doctor.” “Bye Y/N. Get home safe.”

He watched you leave. His heart heavy.

One by one, the rest of the office scattered for the night until it was just him in the bullpen. He found himself unable to get up. Subconsciously, he knew it was because staying at the office would keep him distracted. It would keep his mind occupied. He wouldn't be thinking about you.

Penelope found him slouched over his desk, reading something. The workday concluded hours ago. Locked away in her little office, working away, she thought there was no-one left.

The bubbly blonde could tell something was troubling him. Spencer was also her best friend, just like you. Therefore she couldn't leave without at least trying to help him out somehow.

She approached his desk and swiftly pulled up a chair next to him. The brunette man glanced up at her as she sat down. A encouraging smile on her face.

“I know how hard this must be for you.” Penelope muttered.

Sitting this close to him now, she could tell Spencer really wasn't feeling like himself. He seemed crushed, helpless even, and really disconnected from the world around him.

“Really, I'm okay. You can go home.” He replied, but the blonde just rolled her eyes. “Cut the crap boy wonder. You know you can talk to me.”

Spencer swallowed. If there was anyone he could open up to about all of this, it would be Penelope. “Did she tell you what happened between us last night?” He asked after a moment of silence, averting his gaze.

“Yes, she told me.” Penelope replied. To Spencer's surprise, the tone of her voice was kind and free of any judgement.

He glanced back at her. “I’m a terrible person.” The tears he’d been fighting back all day fought hard to escape. Garcia shook her head. “I don’t agree.”

“I took advantage of her vulnerability. I let my true emotions show. I wanted to be there for her so badly that I made myself into the other guy, and now, I can’t help but feel like she hates me.”

“She doesn't hate you.” “How can you be sure? We crossed a line, I can’t help but feel terrible about that. And today she came into work with those save the dates. She told me it wasn't intentional, but a part of me isn't so sure.”

“Y/N doesn't hate you Spencer.” Penelope repeated. “And trust me when I tell you, handing out the save the dates today, of all days, has been planned for weeks.”

“She’s getting married in a couple of months.” He mumbled quietly in response, completely ignoring what Garcia just said. The sentence was mainly as a painful reminder to himself.

“Do you love her?” Penelope asked.

“I-I...” He hesitated for a second. Spencer wasn't sure if he was ready to admit out loud what the feelings he’s kept bottled down for so long. He’s told everyone he’s moved on, yet his actions since your engagement screamed different.

A deep sigh escaped his lips. On the other hand, Spencer knew deep down didn't have a lot to lose anymore.

“I-I do.” The brunette doctor stated. “I never stopped loving her actually.”

Penelope smiled. She reached across for his hand and gave it a gentle encouraging squeeze. “Then tell her genius.”

'Cause I've been hanging on you I've been waiting on you

A/N: hello friends! i hoped you liked this chapter!! as always, i’d love to hear your feedback and if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

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breakingsomething · 4 years

Text

Dawn Station - Pilot

Basic summary: Video game developer Jack Mcloughlin is finally releasing a new game after a ten year hiatus.

Content warnings: Murder, dismemberment, body horror

It comes as a shock to everyone, including you, when Jack Mcloughlin announces the release of a new game at the start of the second week of October.

There are several reasons why this is such a big deal. One: Jack Mcloughlin has been making games since he was twenty seven, and has released only five of them in the thirty years he's been doing it. Two: Jack Mcloughlin is world renowned for his fantastic horror games, all done in wildly different styles, but still notably his own. Three: Jack Mcloughlin has not, up til now, so much as mentioned working on a new game. The only social media site he's fully active on is Twitter - which you check regularly for any updates - and before the release of his last game, Ehrmann Lab, he had left a series of cryptic clues for two months leading up to the announcement. Those had been probably the most fun two months you'd ever had in your life, and even helped you make new friends. But this time around, there is no warning. The trailer is dropped at Purina Expo, one of the biggest American gaming conventions of the year. You were incredibly lucky to be able to snag tickets. Usually, this convention is where the hottest games that would be coming out the following year would be announced, trailers would be played, and developers would discuss - so everyone there on October 10th is shocked to not only be the first to see the trailer, but to hear from the man himself. Jack Mcloughlin takes the stage, gleefully announcing the release of Dawn Station on October 31st this year.

Now, the release of a new game from Septic Games - Mcloughlin's own software company, which he founded after his second game's release - is a big enough deal. But this… this is something else. Mcloughlin explains it before the reveal of the trailer, and you listen with great excitement.

"Dawn Station," says the man, practically bouncing across the stage with glee and shouting into his mic with a hoarse Irish accent. "is a feat of modern gaming. Now, I understand that when you play games, it can get boring to replay them later on after you've finished, because - well, you know how it goes! You know all the twists and turns, all the jumpscares, all the fights, all the spooks. But what if I told you that there was a way you could play where things were different each time?"

Behind the man, on a large screen, an image comes up. This is the first promo image for the new game to be shown to the people. The image is of a tilted hallway in what looks like a complex, broken down space station, overgrown with unusual plants that glow and spark. In the centre of the image is an astronaut. His helmet is on the floor, blood soaked. His face is half in shadow. All that can be seen is curly olive hair and neon green eyes - two on his face, and one embedded in his neck. The suit itself is torn, ripped open with a mouth and a dripping tongue where the being's stomach should be. A torch is on the ground behind him, attempting to cast light on the room. The words "Dawn Station" come up in solid, bright green font next to the being's face.

"This is Dawn Station!" cries the developer, over the many excited murmurs of the crowd. "The first ever virtual reality game with a fully developed artificial intelligence antagonist! An antagonist who learns from the players movements and choices, who grows and changes based off of what you do. You control the game, now more than ever! He's clever, he's learning, he knows where you are, and his objective is to kill the player - introducing... Alien X, otherwise known as… the Anti!"

Everyone cheers. Mcloughlin steps aside, a beam splitting his pale face, and allows the room to darken, and the trailer to play.

You're in awe. The trailer shows that you play as a character named Drew Oliver, an astronaut in their mid twenties who's aboard the Dawn Space Station, which has fallen to the planet you seemed to have been monitoring - the Othohiri 5RM. The game seems to revolve around attempting to explore the little bits of the planet that you can while repairing the ship and dealing with your descent into madness, all the while being chased down by the Alien X, a shapeshifting monstrosity who's eager to end your life before you can finish your goals. After watching it… well, everyone is absolutely blown away, especially you. This is unlike anything Mcloughlin had ever produced, especially to this scale. It's no wonder he hadn't produced a game in ten years if this was what he had been working on. You're practically vibrating with excitement at the breathtakingly beautiful scenery and realistic yet perfectly stylistic graphics, and the 8D sound design that seems to echo from all around you. It's incredible. The second you get back to your hotel room that night, you're one of the first to preorder the game.

Your week at the convention ends, and you go back home, counting down the days to the game's release. However, even more exciting things are happening. On Twitter, a few of your favourite youtubers are acting rather cryptic. KrisDoesGAMEZ and rrroadblock, two streamers you like, retweet Mcloughlin's announcement tweet with eye emojis and promises of the game being good. DUSSST, visualthursday and BroAverage make their own posts about it. PeachCheerio and TheSkinnerr upload short update videos promising exciting things to come.

On October 15th, it happens - ten youtubers each upload an early access demo of Dawn Station, having been chosen and given the code to play it by Mcloughlin himself. You don't watch the videos because you want to play the game yourself with no spoilers, but from what you've seen, it's fucking amazing. Critics are already calling it the game of the decade. The internet is thriving, and a few people have already cosplayed Drew, the main character. Your best friend uploads a joking cosplay of the Anti and walks around town with it on. He gets over a thousand likes and teases you about being too good for you now that he's internet famous. You're living for all of this.

On October 16th, youtuber PeachCheerio is murdered in his own home.

Everyone is shocked, rightfully. Here is a man who had streamed just the day before, chatting with his members and looking at Dawn Station memes on Twitch. Today, he was discovered by his girlfriend in his own home. Leaked police reports tell you that the man, whose real name was Ronald Murphy, had been messily dismembered, his organs removed, half of them missing. You're in shock. He was one of your favourite streamers, and maybe it's silly to mourn someone you've never met, but you're deeply, deeply saddened by the news.

However, it doesn't stop there. The very next day, youtuber DUSSST - or Louise Greendale - is found the same way Ronald had been. Louise's girlfriend apparently called the police in hysterics before panic tweeting about the incident. The posts were taken down an hour later. The screenshots of what she'd said trend of Twitter and Tumblr anyway.

This is when the conspiracy theories arrive. Two youtubers dead in two days, both brutally taken apart and missing organs? Some people mock the theorists for it. Who had even said Louise had been killed the same way as Ronald, anyway? That is, until more apparent police reports are leaked revealing the details of Louise's death. The internet goes wild. The Los Angeles police department posts a video begging whoever's causing the leaks to stop, to think about the families of the deceased. All this does is prove that they're true. This video, too, is later taken down.

You log off in disgust. Some people have no fucking shame.

Things heat up the next day, on October 18th, when user rrroadblock, or Aryan Jha, dies as well. The death is covered up for the first few hours afterwards, but eventually is leaked in the same manner as the last two murders. This time, the theorists are no longer labeled as crazy. In fact, everyone's getting in on this mystery now. Three popular youtubers dead now, each found in bloody states in their own homes, three days apart? No one knows what's happening, but that doesn't stop people from guessing. And while you refuse to involve yourself in any of this, you also find yourself wondering who or what - not what, of course it's not a what, that's just ridiculous - who is killing all of these people.

Day four. The internet is silent, waiting. And yes, sure enough, youtuber KrisDoesGAMEZ, or Kris Velvet, is dead.

This time, someone realizes something that makes everyone pause. Each of the dead youtubers are all the ones who were given the free demo of Dawn Station, and are even dying in the order that they played it in. Everyone goes insane. Even you're suspicious - of what, exactly, you don't know, because why would someone murder someone else so brutally over a video game? Despite that, this can't be a coincidence. People place bets on whether youtuber ducksontheroof, or Donna Campbell, is going to be the next one to be found dead. Donna herself makes a statement on her Instagram, expressing disgust at all the people who were spreading such information around. She then deactivated all her socials apart from her YouTube. The people who had been making bets were shamed, and you have to log off yet again. This is getting to be too much.

You stay offline until nearly four pm the next day. Your friend calls you up to give you the news, but you already know what they're going to say. Let me guess, you start, voice flat and tired. Donna Campbell's dead.

They confirm it. You don't know what to say.

Her family put out a statement asking people not to theorize about her death. People do it anyway. Reports state that the remaining five youtubers who had played Dawn Station, along with, surprisingly, Jack Mcloughlin himself, had been taken into police custody. For protection, you assume. Once again, the internet goes insane. This proves their theories about the game connecting all the deaths, and a silent dread and buzz of twisted excitement hangs over everyone. You're just disgusted. People are treating this like some kind of murder mystery game, like this isn't real, actual lives.

Two days pass without news. At the end of the second day, there's yet another leak. Youtubers Doomandgloom - Persephone Henry - and TheSkinnerr - Rodney Pratt - are dead. You're just numb. You're just so fucking numb.

This reveal, of course, inspires yet another debate. If the youtubers had been under police protection, how had they died? Had the police seen anything? Why hadn't the leak said anything about it? Who was killing all these people in so little time, how hadn't they been caught? Had, really, no one seen anything at all?

There are now three youtubers left who'd played the game. Hothothotstanley, or Stanley McIver, visualthursday, or Khia Herrera, and BroAverage, or Chase Brody. You met Stanley McIver, once, at a convention in London three years ago. You have a picture on your memory board of you standing in the convention hall, him with his arm around your shoulder, you with a grin and sparkle in your eye. You can see the picture from your bed. You turn away from it.

However, the next day is a surprise to everyone. A video is uploaded to someone's Twitter - a full, uncensored video of the murder of Stanley McIver inside the government safe house he and the others had seemingly been kept in. The video is immediately taken down and the Twitter deleted, but everyone has seen it. Including you. The video is… horrifying. Of course it is. Why did you watch it? But you do manage to see who it is that killed him. Everyone on the internet does. And this - this video, that's maybe five minutes long - is enough to make everyone go silent.

The killer looks exactly like the Anti from Dawn Station.

No one knows quite what to make of this.

Even less so when Jack Mcloughlin dies the next day.

He's murdered. Same way as all the rest of them, in police custody. Now this is enough to shock everyone into mourning silence. Only a few pricks are left, and their accounts, channels and blogs are swiftly deactivated. Nine deaths in nine days. Nine deaths. Nine. Jack Mcloughlin.

The next day, Khia Herrera - well, you know.

Chase Brody is the last one left alive. You never watched his channel that much - he's really into horror, and is known for his Walking Dead playthrough and his Undertale Genocide run - but you still already feel a strange sense of loss. A sort of emptiness. Something churns in your stomach that you don't understand. There's a lot that you don't understand.

The release of Dawn Station is cancelled.

You spend the night at a friend's house, and just bawl for hours. You shouldn't be so upset, you shouldn't! You never knew any of these people! But fuck, there's something about seeing all these people who you'd been watching online for so long, who have given you so many happy days, so many laughs and inside jokes… just die. How had this happened? Who was it who was doing this?

Your friend sadly suggests it's some sick Jack Mcloughlin hater who decided it'd be fun to cosplay as his newest character and kill people to scare everyone. But while you outwardly agree, you internally know it's not true. Because every time you watch that video, every time you watch Stanley die - and you watch it a lot, just trying to make yourself feel something, even if it's just sick - you can tell the person isn't human. You know that's ridiculous, of course. But there's something about its eyes. Its face. It glances up at the camera and makes eye contact, and grins with too many white, jagged teeth, like an anglerfish. The eye in its throat sees you too. It glows. You shudder every time, watching it shake with glitches and laughter.

You're scared. You feel sick and dizzy and you lock your doors out of fear. You stay inside and open Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram again.

Poor Chase Brody, says the internet. They're already mourning. Already accepted his death. Poor, poor Chase Brody.

You hope he's ok, wherever he is.

#dawn station #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #boop writes

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

Text

DT - Just Drunk 3/3

Description: It’s finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.

Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

It’s finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” “Cause I’m getting that feeling right now.” CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Here’s to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol ❤️❤️❤️

That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you weren’t exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you weren’t.

So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then you’ll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tonight’s the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wine—read, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we aren’t about that life here— It’s finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. And—oh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You can’t do this. You just can’t!

You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You can’t do this. You really can’t. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.

Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.

But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you don’t take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shit—wait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!

And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, and—you swear that—you walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!

Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You aren’t special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?—No, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..

Alright, it’s decided. You aren’t going on this date. You don’t deserve to go on this date. You’ll just pick up your phone and call—no! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesn’t matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. And—hey! Don’t judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. It’s a part of who we are now.

You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.

It obviously doesn’t, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so that’s a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! You’re willing to bet he’ll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he won’t even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.

You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit you’ve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. “H-hello?”

“Breathe. What are you wearing?”

Lindsey, it’s Lindsey. You glance down, “dark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.” You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. “Oh shit, do you think I’m too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, aren’t I? I should have worn a dress! He’s from the damn 30’s! Oh fu—“

“Woman!” Lindsey cuts you off, “just breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?”

You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey can’t see the action you quickly mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be okay, I look fine, I’m fine. I’m breathing now. Promise.”

“Very convincing,” Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.

You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! He’s here!

“Fuck! Linds!” You hiss. “He’s here! What do I do?!”

“Jesus,” she sighs, exasperated, “you get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.” Yet the words don’t sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.

“You do,” she reaffirms. “Now repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.”

“Yes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!” You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.

“Wait!!” Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.

“Yes?” You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.

“Call me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!” She warns. “I want all the dirty details, so don’t forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!” She singsongs the last part.

“Will do! Bye!” You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. You’ll make it up to her later.

You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he can’t catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldn’t go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is ‘bad form’, as Sam had put it, and ‘makes you look too eager,’ as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you don’t want to show up too early is because she probably won’t be ready, and it’s never good to rush a woman’s pre-date prepping process. So after Nat’s words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.

But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.

With a sincere and rushed ‘Thank you’, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that it’s now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.

His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he can’t make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though he’s sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tony’s file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so it’s not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it does—

The door abruptly opening cuts off Steve’s train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and that’s saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.

How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he can’t even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, he’s doomed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. “Uh, hi,” you wave awkwardly—And woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? You’d facepalm right now, if it weren’t for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.

Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, “Hi.”

Okay, so at least you aren’t the only awkward one. That’s good, you guess. “Shall we?” You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.

He nods quickly, “yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.

A silence looms over you both, you aren’t exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. “Is that,” you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, “is that a Mclaren P1?” You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

He gives you a bashful look, “it is. I’m sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you weren’t, the helmet would just mess up your hair,” he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, “So Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.”

You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. “Not ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, that’s the first thing I’d buy,” you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.

There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isn’t a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. You’d be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, you’d have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after you’re dead and gone. That’s how expensive they are.

A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!

“Ah, shall we?” You ask, yet again, as clearly that’s the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasn’t a first date, and that wasn’t Tony Stark's car, you’d have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.

Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,—yes, ‘lifts up’. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!— like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you don’t want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.

Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, “you like cars, I take it?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. “My dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.”

Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.”

You smile at him, happy that you’ve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. “I like bikes as well, though I’m nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.”

He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, “Well, I’ll have to take you out on my bike one day,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “If um, if you’d be interested in that?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’d really like that.”

You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, “okay. I can make that happen.”

Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadn’t clued into this until after you’d answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didn’t want to see him again. Or that you weren’t enjoying yourself so far. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadn’t scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasn’t him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So he’d once again decided to go with Nat’s advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.

But when the words had left his mouth, he’d almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume she’d even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because she’d replied instantly, and excitedly, that she’d really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly don’t know what to make of the smile, it’s not exactly one you’d have expected, and you can’t place why it makes you feel so awkward.

It’s odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. It’s sweet and soft, and calming. “Good evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?”

“We have a reservation, under Rogers,” Steve answers and you aren’t sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isn’t normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you aren’t going crazy—at least not this time, you aren’t.

She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. “Here you are,” she says as she places the menus down on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment you’ve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.

Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but it’s pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, “that was weird, wasn’t it?”

He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. “Yeah, that was odd.”

“Does that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?”

He shakes his head, “sometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.”

You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, “okay, so I wasn’t the only one that thought that was weird.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

“No,” Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. “You weren’t.”

He has never had someone react to his presence like that, he’s had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, he’s even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isn’t sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasn’t. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.

A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. “Good evening, my name is,” there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, “Will,” is added. “And I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?”

Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that he’s heard it many, many times—You have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostess’ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.

Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasn’t looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to ‘Will’ and he narrows them. The aforementioned ‘waiter’ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. ‘What are you doing here?’ He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.

‘Taking your drink orders,’ Sam mouths back with a ‘duh’ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.

“I’ll just take an iced tea,” Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, “and I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap.”

“Excellent choices,” Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friend—hold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Nat—what his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal you’d like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if he’s decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is looking—read, glaring—at a table with a few people sitting at it. “Do you know them?” You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.

“Hmm?” He questions, “who?”

You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. “The people at that table over there,” you tip your head in it’s direction.

He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. “Ah, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I can’t really remember exactly where.” He shrugs, “probably from work.”

You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. “So, any ideas on what you’d like to eat?”

“I was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking about getting as well,” you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly that’s another thing you both have in common. Score!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called ‘friends’ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.

It’s taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tony’s invasion of privacy folder.

And if barely paying any attention to his date, isn’t bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He can’t imagine how she’d react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.

He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesn’t really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

It’s not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and you’d have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.

And maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasn’t really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.

So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.

You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadn’t yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around him—But we aren’t focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.

The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you don’t miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, that’s fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?—Shit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.

And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safe—you shake your head gently. Don’t be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after all—

“Oreos?” He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one you’d picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.

And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. “I like Oreos,” you shrug, trying to act casual. “So tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?”

He chuckles, “I guess Oreos are pretty good, I’m also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

“Really?” You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again. “When I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reese’s were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30’s. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,” he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. “It still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.”

“I can’t even imagine,” you say honestly, “what else has stayed the same?” And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as it’s raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is she—is she taking freaking pictures of you!?

Your eyes focus in on the phone in question and—wait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the ‘old ladies’, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the ‘old mans’ head, and come to an unwavering realization.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You flick your eyes back to Steve’s. “Oh, yeah. Yep. I’m just dandy,” your eyes again lock on the stupid ‘old woman’. “I just have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isn’t watching and then forcefully yank the ‘old’ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.

Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the woman’s grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you weren’t so angry right now, you’d have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.

“I really shouldn’t be in here,” Tyler points out unhelpfully.

“Oh please,” you scoff, “I’m more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.”

He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.

“Look, we can explain,” she puts her hands up in submission.

“I sure fucking hope so,” you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. “Well, let’s hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?”

“It was his idea,” Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, “it was her idea.”

They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. “Liar!” They say in unison. Another gasp from both, “I am not!” and again, in unison.

You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didn’t, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.

“Okay, whoever’s idea it was aside,” you wave a dismissive hand around. “You both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.” You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, “now, the real question is what the hell guys?” You shift your eyes between the two, “you both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, “but it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.”

Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, “it was ‘our’ idea, traitor!” She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.

You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, “okay, enough!” They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. “I don’t have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, I’m sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and I’ve now been standing in the women’s bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steve’s going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Do you think he’d even understand that reference?” Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, “do you think anyones shown him those movies yet?”

Lindsey gives him an odd look, “of course he’s seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.”

Tyler nods slowly, “unless his friends all suck, I guess.”

“Very valid point, Ty—“ Linds starts but you cut in.

“Not important at the moment, guys,” you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. “Now, I’d ask you both to leave, but I know you won’t listen to me. So instead, I’ll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?”

“Got it,” they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, “but Harry Potter is always important.”

You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isn’t even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldn’t change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. It’s a 50/50 thing, for sure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. ‘What the hell are you guys doing here?’

His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see it’s from Tony. ‘We are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.’

Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isn’t in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. “Oh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then what’s with the get ups,” he flicks the obviously fake wig on Bucky’s head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, “and why the hell is Sam our waiter?”

“Look, Steve,” Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. “I had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,” she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former to—well, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, “I only chose to join them to make sure they didn’t fuck your date up too badly.” Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, “and I’m just here for the food.”

“Traitors,” Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.

Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, “you can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steve’s bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, that’s a bullet I won’t take for you.”

Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “We just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isn’t that right, Manchurian Candidate,” he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he crosses his arms. “Your choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you. I’m supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,” he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. “And tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isn’t the next person to approach my damn table, I’ll be even more pissed off,” then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasn’t come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didn’t see him scolding the table of assholes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. “Sorry that took so long,” you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! “Ah, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.” Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!

“Oh?” Steve asks hesitantly, “is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, yeah,” you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. “She just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her I’d call her back later.”

He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. “Does it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?”

You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, “no, it’s not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?”

He nods, “yeah, something like that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” you comment, trying to be positive. “And it just means we get more time to talk.”

He smiles at you, “well, in that case, let’s hope the food never comes.”

And swooooon. You couldn’t not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that it’s probably the biggest, goofiest thing he’s ever seen, but you can’t help it. “Fingers crossed,” you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, “Cause I’m getting that feeling right about now.”

Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. “All the time, actually.”

You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, that’s neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that it’s now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his ‘friends’ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.

And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding they’ll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

“Sorry for the delay,” a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. “Ah, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, I’ll be taking over for him.” He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. “These drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldn’t be too much longer for your food to be ready.”

Y/N thanks the new—actual—waiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.

The new waiter—Kyle—scurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. “Did you have a better time at work, this week?” He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadn’t been very fun for her. He’d been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.

And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve can’t get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, because—does this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldn’t they give him the same one he’d ordered before?

He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. It’s no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steve’s learned since waking up from the ice in this new—and expensive—era, it’s that you should never ever pass up free things. So he’ll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalism—Okay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.

You and Steve don’t waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of fo—five now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isn’t worrying you. A lot.

After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didn’t mean to be that forceful with it.

Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot and—wait, is he drunk?

“This food was amazing!” He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Something isn’t right. He don’t feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he can’t get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian mead—his eyes snap over to the table of his ‘friends’ and it instantly hits him—The beer didn’t taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.

Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his ‘friends’ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckers—

“Who’s going to pay?”

Steve’s eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/N’s. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. “My horrible friends,” he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/N’s face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. “You’re adorable when you frown,” he chuckles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You were still trying to figure out what he meant by ‘his horrible friends with pay for this’, but then he has to go and say you’re adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. Geesh—Focus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over and—holy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.

And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steve’s did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. “Steve?” You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. He’d been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding slightly out of it.

“Question?—err, actually maybe two questions,” you hastily amend and he chuckles.

“Okay,” he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, “W-what are they?”

“Is that your team over there?” You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.

He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles “yeah, it is.” But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this time—read, damn near yelling again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be here—“

You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out what’s so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. “Y/N?” He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.

And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, “see the old couple behind you, a table away?”

Steve’s lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, “yeah,” he says slowly.

“Those two ‘old people’,” you make quote signs with your fingers, “are my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,” and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steve’s frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.

“You’re joking?” He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, “not even a little bit.”

He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. “That is too funny.”

You nod, agreeing with him, “that it is. Looks like both our friends are,” you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, “nosey assholes.” Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steve’s. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, “and here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didn’t fake being our waiter,” you giggle.

Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, “were you really surprised they’d go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.”

“Oh shit,” you chuckle a little more, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Yeah,” Steve shakes his head, “they are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. It’s rather frustrating,” he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.

“Wait,” Steve abruptly says, “you said you had two questions?”

You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though you’re going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, “so I’m guessing they spiked your drink, which means you can’t drive?”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? I’ll pay for it.”

“No,” a sly grin works its way onto your lips. “I have a better idea.” You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. “Come with me,” you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you won’t be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell she’ll be able to stop him, and he’ll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, can’t be passed up, even in Steve’s mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.

He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isn’t gonna lie, he’s excited to see what her master plan is.

“Avengers,” she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.

His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, “Y/N,” he nods then looks at Steve. “Steve.” Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. “I see you’ve figured us out,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That I have,” she giggles, “wasn’t too hard, once you spiked Steve’s drink.”

“That was Sam’s doing,” Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.

“It might have been my doing, but it was Tony’s idea,” Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You aren’t interested in their bickering about who did what, and who’s behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad,” you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“We aren’t,” he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but it’s the thought that counts.

You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. “But,” you abruptly say, “there are conditions to us not being upset.”

And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, “and those are?”

“Our bill still needs to be paid,” you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, “okay, and?”

Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. “Since Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morning—“. Tony cuts in, “what? No, no, that doesn’t seem—“. “Tony,” Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,” you say, “therefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, I’ve driven supercars before, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Tony doesn’t seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. “I think it’s only fair,” Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. “I agree with Nat,” Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, “fine, you can take the car for the night.”

And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, “but,” he points a finger at you then at Steve, “if there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.”

Steve gives you a look, one that screams ‘now just wait one second, let’s talk about this a little first’ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, “Deal.” And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, “I like that one,” to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.

As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!—A deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. “Sorry,” you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, “I’m a little excited.”

“I can see that,” he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all it’s shiny black glory, and you are sure you’re dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or you’re drooling.

The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, “it’s my turn to be the gentleman.”

Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.

And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.

You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the ‘gentleman’ this time. Steve deserves as much.

He chuckles again as he clues into what you’re doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.

Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.

“I had—“. “Thank you—“. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Even with our friends crashing the date?” He asks, one brow raised.

You giggle, “yes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.”

“That it did,” Steve nods. “And I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.”

You wave it off, “they aren’t so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.”

He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You grin brightly, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “No, I wouldn’t be interested in doing this again.” Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks you’ve ever seen in your life. “Just wait,” you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, “let me finish. But yes, I’d love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.”

His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, “yes, no friends on the next one for sure.”

“Okay, well I should get home,” you say reluctantly, “but I’ll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” he nods. “And yes, just the two of us.”

“Perfect,” you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.

Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, you’d melt into the sidewalk. You’d become a human puddle.

But luckily for you, he doesn’t release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. “Goodnight, Steve,” you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.

“Goodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.”

You smile, “see ya then.” You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you don’t care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.

You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.

The whole drive home you can’t wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if you’re being honest.

This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldn’t change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.

And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, and—if you have any say in the matter—many, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that you’re going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because you’ll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, that’s what.

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

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#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #Drunk Twitter #part 3 #Just Drunk #au fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers #justkendingwritingchallenge

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5-secondsofcolor · 4 years

Text

Te Guardo || A.I.

Warnings: None? a bit of odd angst? This is unedited so tenses are funky

Length: 2K

Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.” & Ashton x Airport

AN: This is a part of @h0tsos and @maluminspace second fic event. Thank you so much for organizing this again!! I’ve linked the event masterlist below if anyone wants to go check out other folk’s work.

EVENT MASTERLIST

_____

Ashton shuffles through his glove compartment of his car, he should’ve registered the car months ago when he first moved to LA but lies of ‘next week’ let him go on far too long. Now he slowly pulls out old ticket stubs and memories of nights passed, looking for his title and registration in the parking lot of the DMV.

He pauses when he finds himself gripping a smooth plastic paper, pulling out square Polaroid. All of them tossed in there unceremoniously after his moving away party. By the look of the pictures, it’s clear they’ve survived a few seasons, fading in the time spent in his glove compartment.

A smile breaks out as he plucks one out and tucks it into his wallet before he continues to pull out crap. Finally, a piece of pink paper peaks out, a sigh of relief coming alongside it as he joins the appointment line.

After an eternity, he gets to the attendant, the woman doesn’t look up from the last form on her desk before asking “What’s the reason for your appointment?”

“Registering a vehicle”

“Can I see your license and registration?”

He pulls out his wallet, as the attendant finally looks up at him giving him an irate look for not being fully prepared, he returns an apologetic smile as the top of his ears warm. Shuffling through the wallet for his license produces the polaroid first, he tucks it back down and grabs his license.

“Here it is,” he announces as he hands it over, the attendant giving him no response. A couple of moments later, the woman hands back his forms alongside a small ticket with ‘B36’ stamped across the top.

“Take a seat and wait for your number to be called,” The attendant says excusing him to the waiting area.

With little else to do, he pulls the polaroid out and allows his mind to remember the night it was taken. Vanessa had done her makeup in the way that made her brown eyes pop, the bright colors complementing her brown skin. He always liked the way her highlighter made her look so golden. The darkness of her hair blends slightly into the dark background but he remembers her soft natural curls and the way they always smell like coconut oil and soft flowers.

They’ve spoken since he moved but it held an awkwardness and it’s all his fault. Truly, he’s replayed that night over and over so much so that he wonders if he’s remembering it right. It was nothing but a moment stolen but it put them on a different path.

“Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met,” Ashton said as he cupped Vanessa’s cheek.

In the poorly lit backyard, it all felt rushed, childish for Ashton to use their only moment’s alone all night to make half declarations of love but it’s what it boiled down to as the timer on Ashton’s big move nearly hit 0.

Her breath caught in her lungs as he pressed his lips to hers. She tried to commit it to memory, feeling it was the start of something. The way string lights gave everything a warm light, the chatter pouring out of his— well now Luke’s apartment, the way was just cold enough for goosebumps to raise on her skin, and the softness of his lips. Instead what’s committed to memory is the sadness, the reality that he was driving away in 2 days.

“Ashton! Andrew’s looking for you,” Luke’s booming voice breaks the moment before she has a chance to acknowledge what happened.

“I’ll be right in. I’m just going to walk Vanessa to her car,” His attempt to shoo away Luke is useless, Luke’s too drunk to realize what he’s walked into. Instead running out and wrapping an arm around Ashton’s neck. “Can’t believe he’s all grown up. Leaving us for LA. Can you believe it?”

“Don’t worry about walking me, my car’s just a house over. I’ll just text you when I get home, promise.”

“Please,” it sounds like a plea as Luke turns him around, shouting about one thing or another as they rejoin the last party, leaving Vannesa with a blank mind and absolutely too much to process.

She pulls into her driveway quickly. Surreal feelings hitting her as she sits in her car a moment after turning it off. That couldn’t have really happened, she shakes her head as she collects her things. Habitually pulling up Ashton’s contact as she turns on her living room light. Her mind still blank as she opens their conversation.

After a moment, she presses on Calum’s contact and quickly types, “Home safe! Let Ash know please.” and tosses her phone on the couch.

Ashton waited for that text message. Holding on to the promise made in passing, he got her message from Calum but nonetheless, he called her, wanting to hear anything from her but got her voicemail and waited for her to call him back.

____

After a dinner with, Vanessa finds herself down the street from her apartment at a little brewery. It’s the one that always reminded her of Ashton. Countless afternoons spent meeting up. He used to make these walks down the streets with her on lazy afternoons.

Her friend’s saved a booth, as is Friday tradition. Except today, an acquaintance won’t stop chatting her up. He’s cute, kinda interesting, she knows he’s a good guy, Cameron, their mutual friend, won’t stop talking him up.

Talked up or not, Vanessa can’t remember his name as she nods and gives a polite chuckle when a change in cadence indicates a joke. It also doesn’t stop her from glancing at her phone the moment it vibrates. “A. Irwin” it reads with a familiar contact picture popping up.

She all but jumps out of her skin the second she sees the name. Grabbing a jacket and excusing herself, “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”

The brisk fall air hits hard after her being inside the warm bar. She nestles her phone between her shoulder and ear as she wrestles her jacket on, breathless she gives a small, “hi.”

“You busy?”

“No, no not at all,” she says. Only half a lie she thinks as she turns around and gives her confused friends a reassuring thumbs up and smile, “What’s up?”

“Not much, just heading to bed and I was hanging with Calum, he did the you thing for the first time in a while,” Only kind of a lie, he thinks to himself as he eye’s their polaroid now balanced in the corner of a larger frame. He couldn’t force himself to toss it into another drawer to get lost with time, the same way he couldn’t ignore the way he felt all day.

They’ve texted for months, catching up at odd times but the overwhelming feeling to hear her voice pushed him to call her after the day at the DMV.

“The me thing?” She laughs, forcing him to elaborate just which odd habit he is referring to.

“The fidgeting thing-- bouncing on your heels.”

“I don’t do that,” She argues, planting both her feet firmly on the ground.

“It’s not exactly the same but you gotta admit it’s pretty similar,” Ashton argues, he can picture her doing it now, holding her phone to her ear.

“Whatever,” She breathes a laugh through her nose and with that Ashton can see the accompanying head shake. He tries to find an excuse to keep her on the line. Does he bring up the Polaroid? Does she remember that day the same? Did he make their afternoon melancholy up for himself, in search of an odd comfort?

“I’m gonna need some proof here, Ash.”

“Fine I’ll go get it myself.” Her scoff in response only eggs him on as he promises, “I’ll get a ticket back there right now.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me a few weeks. I’ll get the evidence myself.”

“Ok. You can show me,” a wave from indoors catches her eye, her friend beckoning her back inside to collect her things, “I gotta go Ash. It was great talking.”

“Yeah it was. We’ll speak soon, yeah? I’m serious I’ll come up there and show you.”

“Whenever you book that ticket, don’t forget a sweater. It sure as hell isn’t California warm here,” She jokes one final time before hanging up.

She can’t help the smile when she gets a screenshot of his flight. Almost two weeks to the day. Friday, November 15th.

___

Two weeks fly, Vanessa thinks before she rushes out of work. So much for making it on time. Maybe the flight is delayed, just allow her a little buffer. It doesn’t feel real to be picking him up. Excitement and anxiety is all she can feel as she dumps her work supplies onto the passenger seat and hits the road.

A bit of relief hits her as she sees the sign at the gate. Two minutes to spare, she laughs at herself as she pauses at the loading zone. She spent an afternoon cleaning her apartment, forgetting her car but it’s too late now.

“Is this my Uber?” The voice is all too familiar, her heart skipping a beat as she looks over to the passenger window. His skin tanner than she remembers but the smile, it’s always stayed the same. She opens her door with a shriek, running around the car, and into his arms.

“Ashton!!!” She shouts into her chest. Her heart beating so hard he can probably feel it himself.

“Hi,” he breaths her in planting a small kiss to the top of her head. She feels smaller than he remembers but then again maybe that’s just a sign that too much time has elapsed.

“Welcome back,” She laughs. Unable to shake the smile on her face as she bypasses the city and begins their drive to her apartment.

He stares openly, unable to believe how much more he’d missed her. In the car, things feel simplified. She doesn’t face his stare until they’re at a stoplight.

“What?” She gives him a true smile, showing her teeth and he knows he booked the right ticket to visit her.

“Nothing. This place has been good to you,” He’s unsure what it is but she’s different.

“I think you’re just falling for the look of a real autumn,” She brushes aside her compliment as her eyes return to the road. Her stomach does a backflip as she ignores his eyes.

A feeling of regret rears its head as she’s tempted to reach out and hold his hand. Her brain is all shaken up as she tries to focus on the tales from LA. Traffic is and she’s grateful for it.

They get back to her apartment right before sundown, her entire apartment illuminated by the lazy afternoon sun. Ashton’s been here a thousand times but with his time away, its familiar feel isn’t fully there. As his eyes sweep her living room, he sees that the same milk crates hold her records but the tables above it are now natural wood, matching the rest of her furniture. Her apartment looks more streamlined from its previous Craig’s List used furniture charm.

“You can put your stuff on the chair,” She points to a corner of the room, it’s apparent the chair’s been cleared of her own pile of miscellaneous clothes in preparation for him to visit. The entire living room gave a feeling of a deliberate organization that it never gave him before.

Ashton tosses the duffle bag onto the chair and pauses at the same bookshelf from years ago, he recognizes some of the book titles and peruses the new ones before a new picture frame catches his eye. He holds his breath recognizing it as nearly the same picture he’s been carrying in his glove compartment for months. The pair to the one that now lives on his mantle at home.

He knows he can’t toe the line with her anymore, the unknowing drowning him this time around as he gently calls, “Nessa?”

#5sos fan fic #ashton irwin fan fiction #5sos #my-writing #ashton fan fic #ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #5sos writinf collab

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lotusthekat · 4 years

Text

Flashes

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Rating: T

Relationships: Familial Hank & Connor (please do not ship them)

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Original Minor Characters

Summary: Flashes are what keep coming back to him. Flashes are what alarm him, take him away from reality - only for it to retribute with a deadly force.

Or, Connor suffers a car accident.

Word count: 2225

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: My first fic on this blog! This was an idea I had one night, without knowing it was Connor’s birthday on the 15th. I decided to torture him as a birthday present then, haha.

I did my own take on the car accident prompt, even though I don’t really know how to write car accidents, so I hope this is good enough. Enjoy!

WARNINGS - car accident, near death experience, fear of death, major character injury, implied past death, trauma, panic attack and swearing.

Connor only sees flashes. White, blinding blurs. Thirium blue, its metallic smell sickening. He hears and sees and speaks static. Nothing makes any sense, and the android is aware his eyes burn inside.

Until, in the next moment, his optical components are stabilized. He still sees mainly white but rebooting system messages give him a rather positive diagnosis: aside from a couple, non-severe injuries, Connor seems to be alright.

However, the android takes a while to acknowledge other presences in his surroundings. He recognizes an android technician using the computers, controlling the unliving machines that are looking after Connor’s body. Beside them, a human woman accompanies the procedure; soon enough, she turns around expectedly, maybe knowing Connor awakens through the screens.

It’s only then that the RK800 concludes he’s in an Android Repair Center, especially when he takes notice of their uniforms – different tones of gray and blue, though they no longer have the CyberLife brand, the company having been shut down a month or so after the first stage of the ongoing Android Revolution.

The woman approaches Connor with a sympathetic smile.

“Hello, Connor,” She says. “How are you feeling?”

(Feeling. Times truly have changed, for this question to be directed at him.)

The RK800 blinks several times before replying, still growing used to the bright room, and yet bothered by his lacking memory.

“I’m…” He doesn’t know what to answer, as there is only one question lingering in his processors: “What happened?”

Her smile falters a little. “You…” She looks down for a moment, as if to plan her words. “You suffered a car accident.”

Connor gapes at her. “I- I did?”

She sighs, not in annoyance but concern. “Your car crashed into a tree; although you had no deadly injuries, you fell onto hibernation mode due to your stress levels before we treated you.”

After this, the android says nothing. Flashes return to him. Cold, biting cold creeps in his thirium vases, causing him to tremble. Logic is far from his senses, as he knows he’s approaching the inevitable, the endless darkness.

Loud, deafening “ping” sounds are heard somewhere, and voices try reaching him, yet Connor can’t seem to find their sources. He sees the same blurs, hears the static again.

It’s cold, cold, cold.

He’s going to die.

He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t—

… nor. Connor? Can you hear me? You’re safe.

A telepathic voice has reached him. It sounds to be the other android in the room. They begin to form again in his vision, a dark void.

Calm down. You are in the Android Repair Center. You’re not there anymore. You’re safe, they repeat. You’re going to be alright. You just need to listen to me. Can you do that?

Desperate, Connor nods, at this point crying helplessly.

You’re not going to die, Connor. You’re almost healed, and you will be ready to leave soon. I promise.

The RK800 struggles to breathe, to calm his loud, hammering pumps. Connor replays the words in his head several times, even repeating it out loud to himself until his thirium pressure returns to normal. The other android is still present, staying for him, and just that helps.

Finally, Connor is back in the room, both technicians relieved. The blaring pings are no more, and the android doesn’t feel cold anymore.

“You’re alright, Connor,” The woman says. “We will do one last check-up, and then you’ll be free to go, okay?”

He nods.

“As for the car, it was already taken for repairs,” She reveals. “We contacted Mr. Anderson and he’s waiting for you outside.”

Connor tenses up. Hank…

Oh, goodness. He crashed Hank’s car. He’s screwed.

“You’ll be okay,” The woman insists, in a lower volume; maybe noting he’s distressed again.

Connor silently lets the technicians finish their job. The android eventually accepts the furious scolding that’s coming for him.

It’s snowing outside, though it’s not so dangerous, which is why Connor agrees to this.

Hank is apprehensive to let him wander around in the snow, yet Connor reassures him it’ll be alright. The android offers himself to go to the market, after everything the former lieutenant has done for him. Connor might as well let the man rest for tonight and get the groceries by himself.

Given many humans have evacuated Detroit in a short amount of time, the available markets are farther from Hank’s neighborhood, so Connor takes the car. The groceries themselves are quick to get done, taking roughly forty minutes. The ride home is tranquil, not too many cars share the same snowy road tonight. Connor texts Hank that he’s on his way back, quickly getting a reply.

Hank: don’t text while driving

Connor: Mind you that I am, according to your own words, a “walking smartphone”.

Hank: scratch that, you’re a smartASS phone

Connor: A highly-advanced smartass phone, indeed. :-)

Hank ultimately replies with a middle finger emoji, bringing a smirk to Connor’s face.

The radio, one of Hank’s favorite stations, plays Joy Division in a satisfactory volume. Connor finds out he enjoys the sound and wanders in the night. There’s still half of the way left. He already anticipates Hank’s sassy remarks regarding the healthier food the RK800 has bought; he imagines Sumo jumping and trying to snatch the treats Connor buys for him, whilst Hank complains he spoils the dog too much.

He feels… warmth. A feeling he’s become familiarized with. The warmth of home.

Except it fades once Connor realizes how… foggy and dark is outside. The snow seems faster, stronger; going against what the weather updates have told him before he left home. Connor is careful and attentive, managing to drive at a soothing speed.

But the more time passes, the snow worsens. It’s not a blizzard yet it does little to calm him.

Somewhere, Connor is aware his stress levels are higher than recommended. His hands hold tight onto the wheel. Regardless, he doesn’t lose control of the car.

However, his enhanced attention fails when he needs the most.

Once the flashlights blind his view, the android barely realizes what’s happening. Rather than following his programming, he follows what is most likely his flight or fight response – which leads to complete failure.

He dodges the other vehicle but at the cost of Hank’s car drifting furiously along the snowy, wet asphalt. Connor screams as he’s unable to stop it, until the crashing glass and metal deafen his audio processors.

His hearing is static and painful, vision at first darkened by uncertainty. Connor slowly awakes, eyes stabbed by blaring warnings, even though they’re not numerous. The android looks at his side, multiple glass shards having attacked the right seat. His right side hurts for that matter, and he tastes thirium. He’s just barely touching whatever the car has crashed into. Either way, Connor can still move, and he chooses to get out of the ruined vehicle.

Which gets even worse, as he’s caught by the freezing wind outside. Connor gasps for air, until he realizes there’s next to nothing. He can’t go so far, his limbs hurting, burning, and so he falls onto the snow, having what’s remained from the car to support his body. Connor is long gone when it comes to his high stress levels, and he does try to call the emergencies. Problem is, he cannot speak.

“Help…” He begs, throat wracked by the cold. “P-Please, help me… I-I’m cold…”

There’s a voice trying to talk to him, but the snow is so loud that he can’t understand it. He’s distantly aware that tears are rolling down his face, only for them to freeze and bite his eyes and cheeks.

Connor doesn’t feel the car anymore. He detects nothing but the snow. No light. No life.

He’s trapped again. And he’s… he’s not getting out this time.

He won’t go back home.

He won’t see Hank and Sumo again. He won’t see Markus and Josh, and North and Simon again. He won’t feel the sunlight on his face, or the rain softly wetting his clothes.

Right now, he’s shot by the freezing snow.

He’s going to die.

“Please…” Connor whispers, growing numb at this point – and so desperately trying to stay awake. “Help…”

I need more time, he begs.

But another voice arrives with the harsh truth: one that sounds too much like Amanda.

It’s too late, Connor.

You failed.

The way to the waiting room feels endless.

Connor looks down, trying to come up with a rational explanation of what happened, failing in the end. He’s not willing to tell Hank. This might be the turning point for the man to decide not to live with him anymore – and that’s really alright. If anything, Connor will do everything to pay for what he did.

Finally, he arrives. The Center’s waiting room is less white and neutral – its shades of blue are vivid. Though it’s not what draws his attention in the slightest, as he realizes there’s only one person waiting there.

Hank sits uncomfortably on one of the chairs, restless. He’s grabbed the nearest clothes he could find, as Connor judges by his mismatched socks and shoes, his home sweatpants and his worn, thick jacket. Hank is hiding his face with one of his hands, practically leaning onto his arm for support. He doesn’t appear to detect Connor’s approach at first, so the android finally voices his presence.

“Hank?”

The older man raises his head only a little, enough to reveal red-rimmed, swollen eyes, contrasting his light blue. Knowing Hank, he must’ve been crying in silence the entire time, and once he lowers his hand, Connor’s suspicions are confirmed by obvious tear stains. Connor has never seen Hank in such a tragic state.

The RK800 stares back, guilt creeping in his chest.

“Hank… I—”

The moment the android opens his mouth, Hank jumps from his chair and tackles Connor in his arms. He’s mindful of any injuries he might have, but at the same time Hank engulfs him so he never leaves.

“Jesus Christ, Connor!” Hank curses wetly. He can’t see his face, but Connor feels the other’s tears wetting his neck.

Connor considers for a moment, yet he doesn’t resist for long. He crushes the older man in both relief and fear, fearing he might go back to the snow and pain if he doesn’t let go.

Hank’s heart rate is high, too high. He’s barely holding it together, his sobs silent and muffled by Connor’s shoulder. After what feels like forever, Hank manages to pull away, looking even more terrible.

“Fuck, Connor,” He says, a hand gently reaching Connor’s face. “Are you okay?”

The android nods. “My injuries weren’t so grave, and the remaining, less severe ones will be healed by my own healing system.”

Hank sighs in a confusing mixture of feelings, drying his own tears with one of his hands. “Good fucking God…”

Connor lowers his gaze, remorseful.

“I’m sorry for crashing your car, Hank,” He apologizes. “I couldn’t—”

“I don’t give a shit about the car, you fucking idiot!” Hank snaps and faces him again, firmly grabbing his shoulders. Even so, the man is far from angry; he looks like he’s about to have a complete breakdown. “I could’ve lost you! I can’t-!” His voice breaks, crying harder. “I can’t fucking take this again, Connor. I can’t.”

Again…

Connor freezes, feeling stupid for not acknowledging why Hank is so distressed. Not that the man has ever been pleased with Connor risking his life and even dying once. But it’s been months, everything has changed. Everything between them has changed, and Connor knows Hank much better than before.

Of course Hank would be devastated. A car accident, of all things, to take Connor away from him in a snowy night…

The android cries along with him. “I’m sor—”

“Shut up, Connor. I just—” Hank takes a deep breath and pulls him close again. “I’m just glad you’re alright, son.”

The same warmth returns with these words, specifically the last one, and Connor buries his face in Hank’s shoulder. “Me too. I was…” He fists Hank’s coat and whispers, “I was so scared, Hank.”

The older man squeezes him. “I know.”

Finally, Connor relaxes in his hold, so much that his legs no longer cooperate with his weight. Hank supports him either way, smoothing his brown curls. After another squeeze on his shoulders, he lets go of the android, though not allowing him to go anywhere out of his sight.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Hank tells him. “Sumo is worried sick about you. Dog’s probably got a ‘Connor In Danger’ radar at this point.”

Connor smiles sadly at the thought, yet he finds himself staring at Hank and how his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. Hank guides him outside and calls a taxi, his arm firm around Connor’s shoulders. The latter feels him calming down, despite the hesitance of letting Connor go.

The taxi arrives in a couple minutes and so Hank and Connor share the backseat. The way home is silent, though their beating organs are soothing and clear. Connor lies on the former lieutenant’s side, while the other smooths his brown hair over and over. Connor takes a deep breath and finds himself slipping into a peaceful slumber, warm and welcoming and loving.

(Thankfully, it wasn’t too late.)

#detroit become human #dbh #connor #dbh connor #hank anderson #whump #fanfiction #car accident tw #death mention tw

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caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 4 years

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Map of the Soul, Chapter One

For the @btswritingcafe‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Author’s Note: This story pulled me into long range territory, so I had to split it into 7 chapters to make it more manageable on Tumblr. Here is the first installment of this journey through the soul. I hope you like it!

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Jungkook x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong. Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for? Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 8K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing/profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, one night stand, sexual content, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter One: There’s Always Time for Euphoria

March 15th - 5:45pm

Done.

That was the singular thought pulsating in your brain as you parked the car. The day was only halfway over and you were way past the breaking point of your own sanity.

From the moment you’d stepped out of bed and into your urine soaked house slippers, you should’ve known that the day was going to be beyond disastrous. Even as you washed them in the tub and left them hanging to dry, you just knew the rest of the day would be a downhill slide.

You didn’t know why your dog Oberyn was upset, but apparently, it was enough to prompt his indiscretion on your only pair of house slippers. He’d even had the audacity to sit in his bed and glare at you while you hurled your anger and frustration at him as you got dressed for your day.

I don’t know what crawled up his butt this morning, but I hope he’s in a better mood. I’m in no condition to deal with his bullshit right now.

After almost tripping up the stairs to your apartment entrance and dropping your keys into the bushes on the way up, you finally made it across the threshold. You quickly changed out your work shoes for sneakers and got Oberyn ready for his walk. Fifteen minutes later, you were cleaning the bottom of your shoe after a happy little accident found your foot at the dog park. Oberyn seemed to smirk at your misfortune, but you couldn’t even muster the energy to care.

Once you both returned to the apartment, you put his harness and leash away and reached over to grab his after-walk treats. You noticed one was already out on top of the container and the morning’s havoc immediately made sense. Oberyn wagged his tail and waited patiently for his treats and a well deserved apology.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” you sighed, handing him both treats. “I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give this to you.”

He accepted your apology and head pats, then happily grabbed both snacks and ran to eat them on his bed. You shook your head and smiled at the easily appeased creature.

If only everything worked like that. You get something you were missing and it suddenly solves all your problems. The Universe finally makes sense again. What a life!

You quickly changed into comfy clothes and collapsed unceremoniously onto the couch. The random assortment of unfortunate events of the day replayed like a blooper reel in your mind and you groaned at the stacks of embarrassment and humiliation you’d endured.

You’d locked yourself out of your office and the university maintenance guy took forever to unlock it for you, which made you late to your first class. You had to dismiss the class and reschedule the quiz since all the copies were sitting on your desk in your locked office.

You’d torn your favorite black slacks and had to patch them with bright green thread from your emergency sewing kit.

You’d sustained several injuries including three paper cuts, a stubbed toe, your knee knocking the underside of a table, and a staple stabbing underneath your fingernail.

You’d spilled coffee down the front of your blouse when a fly unexpectedly dove into your face.

You’d even lost one of your favorite earrings while taking off your scarf outside the Humanities building. It was now lost among the clumps of mud by the front door.

Why does the Universe hate me so much today?

RIIIIINNGGG!!

You swiveled your head over to your cell phone screeching at you from the side table. The comical picture of your mother flashing on the screen drew a groan of exasperation from your throat.

I can’t deal with her right now.

The phone ceased its machinations and you turned into the couch seeking an escape from the tragedies of the day.

RIIIIINNGGG!!

“Argh!” You wailed. “What could she possibly need from me right now?!”

After taking a deep breath, you picked up the offending device and swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Hello, mother,” you grumbled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed. “Don’t talk to your mother like that. It’s undignified.”

“I apologize,” you corrected with fake cheerfulness. “Hi, Mommy! I missed the sound of your voice. How was your day?”

“We really need to work on your phone etiquette, honey,” your mother groaned. “You’ll never meet anyone with that attitude.”

“Yes, mother,” you replied snarkily. “My goal in life is to trap someone in my love nest with only my wit and wisdom as weapons.”

“Anyway,” she drawled. “The reason I’m calling is because I’m looking for something. Do you remember that stole you wore for your college graduation? The one your grandmother made?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you responded. “It has all the graduate names from our family embroidered on it. It’s in my memory box in the closet. Why?”

“Your cousin Sana is graduating from college in about a week,” she announced happily. “I need that stole so we can get it embroidered before the graduation ceremony. Can you overnight it to me, darling?”

You leaned back on the couch and released a sigh of defeat.

Of course other people are doing great things in their life. I’m the only dumbass stuck in a rut right now.

“I’ll dig it out of the closet and send it to you tomorrow,” you replied. “Let me know when and where the graduation will be so I can make plans to head down.”

“Splendid,” your mom chirped. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you. Get some rest, honey. You sound tired. Love you!”

Without giving you a chance to respond, your mom ended the call. You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes.

She gets what she needs and then she’s gone. Typical.

Knowing you would probably forget to do it later, you wandered over to your spare closet, grabbing the stepladder along the way.

Might as well get this over with.

You climbed up on the ladder and pulled on the chain for the light above your head. You couldn’t stifle the groan from escaping when you spied the piles of plastic containers and boxes on the upper shelf.

Why is my life such a hot mess?

You started pulling down boxes one by one to avoid an accidental avalanche. The collection of dust and crumpled cardboard left you sneezing and gagging on stuffy air and a faint smell of mothballs.

After clearing your throat and taking a sip of water, you looked up and spotted the box you’d been looking for.

Just one more box to move.

The box in question had shifted slightly and was wedged against the ceiling at an odd angle. Try as you might, you couldn’t get it to budge. With a huff of annoyance, you balanced yourself on the top of the stepladder and pushed up to get closer to the box. You heaved your palms against the side of the box and it gave away before you could regain your balance. You crashed into an uncomfortable heap on the floor and whined loudly as you felt the painful throb on your ankle.

After a quick assessment, you discover no other injuries except for a slightly swollen ankle and a sizable knot on the top of your head.

What the hell hit my head?

You glanced around and saw three different boxes scattered around you. One was the memory box you’d been trying to get, one was the previously wedged prisoner box, and the other was completely foreign. You stood up and walked over to lift it from among the clatter on the floor.

This isn’t mine. Is it?

You brushed off the subtle cobwebs and dust and revealed a collection of stickers and decals that were strikingly familiar. Most depicted the many fandoms you followed, but others appeared to be nothing more than artfully scribbled words in elegant script.

Time. Destiny. Passion. Happiness. Faith. Friendship. Love.

You turned the box over in your hands and furrowed your brows quizzically. You didn’t remember ever seeing the box before and it certainly wasn’t there when you originally packed the closet full of your crap.

A loud text message tone pulled you out of your reverie and you abandoned the box on the counter in search of your phone.

Ah yes, we have to keep the tradition going.

Your grandmother and her sentimentality were time consuming, but also adorable. She wanted to stress the importance of education in the family, but also find a way to keep everyone connected from generation to generation. It was her insistence that solidified this current graduation tradition.

You opened the memory box and lifted the neatly folded stole in its plastic bag and the small scrapbook decorated with graduation memorabilia. You took a moment to reminisce about your prior accomplishments and then placed the items on the counter. After cleaning up the mess on the floor and carefully returning everything to the closet, you limped over to the kitchen and poured yourself another glass of water.

On your third gulp, your eyes landed on the mysterious box again. It was no bigger than a shoe box, but was definitely sturdier. Curiosity got the better of you and you inspected it a little more closely.

There was a tarnished metal knob that needed to be turned in order to lift the lid. The glossy surface appeared to be varnished or glazed so that the stickers and words would remain fixed. There was no lock, so you decided to open it.

You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the lid, but it certainly wasn’t what you found.

Laying on top of a folded piece of paper were seven items: a rubber banana keychain, a cute little hamburger toy, a metallic purple kazoo, a gold sequined bow tie on an elastic band, a red beanie dragon plush, a spoon with a floral design, and a thin metal disc with an assortment of holes. You tentatively inspected each item and placed it on the counter.

What the hell is all this?

You lifted the folded paper out of the box and looked underneath. All that was left at the bottom of the box was a quote etched into the surface.

My life and yours are an equal sign, So my remedy is your remedy.

You read the phrase over a few times and couldn’t make sense of it. It seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You turned the folded paper over in your hands a few times and then unfolded it. It’s a fairly large sheet and it resembled parchment. At first glance, the image on the paper looked like an intricate abstract drawing. There were large lines of ink brushed across in elaborate swirls resembling a disjointed heart.

The swirling lines were connected by smudges of charcoal across from blocks of text in colorful ink. There were seven smudges with lines of text to the left of each smudge. You couldn’t make sense of it, but there did seem to be some type of pattern implied. The lines flowed from left to right increasing in width and each successive line grew wider as it progressed to the other side of the page.

You studied the lightest portion of the drawing and read the lines of text next to this first smudge.

Were you wandering around Looking for an erased dream too? It’s different from the typical definition of destiny. Your pained eyes are looking at the same place as me. Won't you please stay in dreams?

The words were certainly poetic, but you didn’t understand their significance. You glanced at the other phrases and they seemed just as cryptic.

What the hell am I looking at? Why would something like this be in my closet?

You were too exhausted to think too much on it, so you shrugged your shoulders and folded the paper and placed it back in the box. You left everything else on the counter and decided that it was time for a shower and then bedtime. As you lay in bed, you exhaled heavily and focused on the hope that tomorrow would be better than today.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 4:27pm

Oh no...please don’t let her find me in here.

“Ok, no arguments,” Gina chirped in excitement as she pranced through your office door. “It’s time for green beer and dancing!”

Damn, she’s quick!

You lowered your head to your desk and groaned out slightly and silently scolded yourself for not leaving the office earlier to avoid her completely. It was much easier to avoid Gina if you were already out of the office, but once she had you cornered, it was almost impossible to tell her no. She was your favorite faculty member and the only person at work that you would consider hanging out with outside of the university.

Gina had been trying to get you to go out for months, and after a long week of midterm exams, you couldn’t find the energy to counter her offer. Besides, you were now, technically, on Spring Break.

“Come on, girl,” she pleaded. “You know I’m leaving for Acapulco the day after tomorrow with my sisters. If I can get you out of your stuffy apartment and into an Irish bar for a little St. Patty’s Day fun, then I can truly enjoy my vacation. You know how I worry about my work-bestie when I’m not around.”

She pouted at you and batted her long eyelashes, and you almost cackled at her adorable puppy dog look. You half expected her to start whining at you like Oberyn would when he wanted something. Maybe that image in your head that weakened your resolve against her proposal for a St. Patrick’s Day outing.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “Where are we going, Gina?”

She squealed in excitement and twirled around with glee. You tried to resist the growing enthusiasm, but you quickly gave in with a sigh and a smile.

“Fine. Let me finish up here and we can go to my apartment,” you suggested. “I guess I’ll need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”

Gina nodded happily and ran upstairs to collect her things. Once you finished packing everything away, she was hopping around in anticipation at your office door. Her bunny antics made you giggle.

Such funny friends I have.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 10:37pm

After a quick dinner of sushi, you were pushing your way through the crowded Irish bar back to the booth where Gina was entertaining her latest acquisition. The guy was certainly handsome, but he only had eyes for Gina. You had another set of drinks for the two of you, but upon discovering the entwined couple making out in the booth, you decided to retreat to give them some privacy.

Typical. She invites me out and then she ditches me for a pretty face.

You wandered back toward the bar and gazed at the writhing mass of bodies under the flashing lights on the dance floor. Desperate to lose yourself in the moment, you downed the two drinks and relished the flavor of Guiness and Bailey’s on your tongue. If Gina was going to have fun, then so were you. You motioned the bartender over and ordered a Jameson & Ginger Ale.

“A whiskey girl, huh?” exclaimed a sultry voice behind you. “Much better than those Appletini chicks.”

Ah, yes, the pick up line. At least his voice is sexy. Let’s hope the rest of him matches.

You couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed, so you decided to let his face make the decision for you. You turned around prepared to give him your best smirk, but lost your nerve once you saw who it was.

“Jungkook?” you replied in squeak. “What are you doing here?!”

Pure amusement filled his doe eyes and he huffed out a laugh. You were floored that your secret hopes of your mystery man being handsome were completely dashed. In fact, he didn’t just have a sexy voice, he was also drop dead gorgeous. You hadn’t seen Jeon Jungkook in almost 7 years, and he hadn’t aged a day. Back when you were both still working on your undergraduate degrees, you’d been his writing tutor on campus, spending countless hours pouring over research papers and essays that needed serious revision and editing.

So many late nights spent at each other’s apartments, so many long hours in the private study rooms, so many casual touches, missed opportunities, awkward moments, and those long nights alone in your bed where you wished his strong arms were holding you. There was no denying the sexual tension you’d felt back then, and there was certainly no denying it now.

Now, here he was leaning on the bar in his billowy shirt and dark ripped jeans looking like some kind of Greek god holding a glass of bourbon. You quickly cleared the inebriation out of your brain and tried to appear sober and sane while you smoothed out your ruffled hair.

“So,” Jungkook smirked while pulling you closer. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting to see me here, huh?”

“Ummm, no,” you admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t even know you were back in town. I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

“I just took a job here,” Jungkook stated simply. “Just hanging out with my new coworkers for the night. I saw you and thought I’d say hi, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so enticing though. You’re not here with your boyfriend or husband, are you?”

“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m still single?” you popped your eyebrow at him. “And enticing, really? Still trying to pick me up, Kookie?”

He smiled a bright bunny grin at his old nickname. You were the only one who would ever call him that and he would never admit just how much he loved it.

“Oh, did you want me to try?,” he continued while reaching up to run his hands up and down your arms. “Hmmmm, where should I begin, babygirl?”

He pulled his lip between his lips and shot you a smoldering look while flipping his hair slightly. You tried to look disinterested, but you lost your composure when he reached up to push a lock up hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved in between your legs.

“I mean it, you know?” Jungkook insisted while locking eyes with you. “You still look incredible.”

The bartender returned with your drink at that moment. Thankful for a little distraction, you lifted the glass of liquid courage to your lips. You swallowed a large gulp of swirling heady sweetness and smiled at Jungkook. He was watching you with stars in his eyes and you were enjoying every minute of it.

“So what are you doing these days, Kookie?” you asked, trying to shift his gaze elsewhere. “Are you still playing with your camera and crayons?”

Jungkook laughed and rolled his eyes at your insinuation. As an art major, Jungkook dabbled in several mediums including painting, sculpture, photography, graphic design, and drawing. The boy was insanely talented, so you were actually curious about where he’d ended up career-wise.

“I just took a job at an advertising agency,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow. “And no, I’m not playing with crayons, smartass. I’m their new Assistant Art Director, so I’m mostly working on graphic designs and managing their photography department.”

“Look at you,” you grinned. “Little Kookie all grown up and making big bucks as an actual adult.”

“I was always an adult,” he corrected. “Someone just always chose to treat me like a little kid.”

“Not always,” you shot back. “It’s not my fault you had a tendency to act like an idiot teenager sometimes.”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “But we all have to grow up sometimes, right? Except you, I guess. Looking at you, I could never guess that so much time has passed since I last saw you. You honestly look amazing.”

He leaned in and ran his nose along your neck up to your ear, inhaling deeply as he grazed your skin. He hummed happily as the intoxicating scent of your perfume hit his nostrils.

“You smell amazing too,” he sighed against your ear. “I bet you haven’t thought about me once since I last saw you.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” you smirked. “I’ve thought about you quite a lot actually. You, sir, are one of my big regrets from college.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook chuckled lightly while nipping at your earlobe. “Why is that, babygirl?”

You nearly purred at his touch and you hissed lightly when you felt Jungkook’s lips attached themselves to your neck.

“Oh, you’re such a fucking tease, Kookie.” you whined. “How am I supposed to think clearly when you’re doing that?”

“What?” he mused. “I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to, am I?”

You pushed on his chest slightly and he pulled away just enough to rub his nose along your own. You felt his breath ghost across your face and you allowed the smell of bourbon to mix in with his fresh scent.

“Kookie,” you sighed. “How much have you had to drink?”

He wrinkled his brow in confusion and stepped back to look at your face, searching for some explanation for your implied accusation. You weren’t trying to sound like you were chastising him for drinking, but you couldn’t shake the insecurity itching under your skin. It was entirely possible that Jungkook was just feeling a little tipsy from the evening and his familiarity with you was the cause of his brazen behavior. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you weren’t about to let a longtime crush be ruined because of a questionable drunken daze. Jungkook picked up on your train of thought and placed his drink on the bar.

“I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m only hitting on you because I’ve been drinking,” he scowled. “You should know better than that. I’ve been hitting on you since before I was able to buy my own alcohol, remember?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I remember having to sneak you into a few clubs back in the day.”

“Exactly,” he bragged. “So don’t try to make it sound like I’m just some random drunken idiot trying to get into your pants. I’m the same Jungkook who would look down your shirt or pull you into his lap in the hopes of making out with you. I mean, I’m still trying to get into your pants, but at least it’s not something new.”

“Still, huh?” you prompted after downing the rest of your drink. “Well, it’s going to take more than a little flirting to get into my pants, Kookie. You want to dance? I want to see if you still got those sexy moves, Kookie.”

He giggled and then finished his own drink with haste. He grabbed your hand to help you off the barstool and you pulled him toward the chaotic dance floor.

You shook off your previous nerves and worked your way into the pulsating mass of dancers. The music was thumping out a steady bass line and you swayed your hips back and forth to the beat. You weren’t sure if Jungkook noticed your attempt at seduction, but within moments, a pair of strong hands attached themselves to your gyrating hips. Given your vaguely inebriated state, you had no problem relinquishing a little control to your sexy suitor.

You encouraged Jungkook’s boldness by pushing your ass back into his crotch, grinding onto his growing erection. He leaned into your body and pulled you closer. His lips ghosted a kiss on your exposed shoulder and then nipped at your neck playfully. The pleased sigh that left your lips prompted a dark chuckle from him.

“So naughty,” he murmured into your ear. “If you keep on grinding onto my dick like that, I’ll have to take action, babygirl.”

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and reached up to grip his wavy hair. He groaned softly as you tugged on the roots and his hips thrusted against your ass. You quickly calculated how long it had been since you’d had sex and decided that it was time to update your calendar.

“Oh yeah?” you taunted. “I’ll accept that challenge.”

You turned in his grasp and locked onto his lips with your own. He hesitated for a moment, but pushed back with his own lips in seconds. They were unbelievably soft and his fervent kisses ignited an inferno in your center. You decided to take it a bit further and you swiped your tongue across the seam of his lips. He moaned slightly in response and dove into your mouth with his own tongue. Once you bit down on his bottom lip, you both decided it was time to move to a more secure location.

He turned away from the crowd and pulled you behind him toward the bar. You both quickly closed out your tabs and made your way to the exit. Once you were both outside, you pounced on him and pushed him into the brick exterior, unable to contain your lust any longer. Jungkook appeared flustered by your eagerness and took a moment to gather his bearings.

“As much I would love to lose myself in this moment,” Jungkook huffed while pulling away from your hungry lips. “Maybe we should decide on a place with softer surfaces.”

You glanced at the vacant alleyway next to you and the brightly lit city street and frowned.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “Kinda forgot where I was for a second there.”

“Really?” Jungkook grinned and kissed your forehead. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“Let me call an Uber,” you volunteered. “My place isn’t too far from here.”

Once you were both in the Uber, you couldn’t stop touching and smiling at each other. The driver commented on the “happy couple,” and you didn’t have to heart to correct the old man.

Once you were both inside your apartment, Jungkook pushed you against your front door and started nipping lazily along your jaw.

Jungkook stroked his thumbs along your sides and leaned in to kiss your flushed cheeks. You sighed happily in response and ran your hands up his firm chest and rested them on his shoulders.

“Jungkook,” you began. “I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again. I haven’t seen you since my undergraduate graduation party.”

“I tried to see more of you that night,” Jungkook admitted while stroking your hair. “But someone disappeared in the middle of the party with their friend, Jimin.”

You flushed further at his words, remembering that night a little more clearly now that he’d brought it up. You and your former friend with benefits had indeed disappeared that night to have a little undergraduate graduation celebration of your own. By the time the two of you rejoined the party, Jungkook was long gone.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be interested. You always had so many girls pining for you, I never thought you’d give me a second glance.”

“Are you kidding?” Jungkook scoffed. “I’ve wanted you since our first tutoring session. I could barely concentrate with you wearing that tank top and those little shorts. What kind of tutor shows up wearing something like that?”

“It was summer,” you countered. “It was over 100 degrees. What was I supposed to wear? A parka?”

You both giggled at that, and it broke the tension that was building since you recognized him. Feeling encouraged, you started lightly scratching his shoulders and chest, noting the stiff pebbles you grazed down the front of his shirt.

“So what now?” you asked. “Do we just keep reminiscing about old times until the sun comes up?”

You gently popped the top button from his shirt to reveal more of his deliciously tanned skin. Jungkook bit his lip and lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

“I think we’ve talked enough,” he grinned wickedly. “There are better ways to spend our time.”

Your eyes locked and you could almost feel the searing arousal growing between you. You gently pushed him away from you and then started walking toward your bedroom, tossing your shoes aside along the way. At the edge of the living room, you lifted your dress over your head and tossed it on the couch. Jungkook smirked and continued to unbutton his shirt while walking toward you. His taut muscles caused your thighs to clench in anticipation.

“Are you enjoying the view, baby?” Jungkook purred while looking you up and down. “I know I am.”

He unbuckled his belt and tugged at the buttons on his jeans. You stepped forward to help him, but got too caught up in touching his bare skin to be of any use. You pulled Jungkook’s lips to your own just as he leaned forward to pull his pants down. He was caught off balance, but quickly recovered after using his feet to pull the troublesome fabric from his legs.

After flinging his shirt behind him, you were both left in your underwear and no inch of exposed skin was left unexplored. Your dominant personalities were at war as you made your way down the hallway, and the aggression became tangible, especially after you practically slammed his back into the wall by your bedroom door. Jungkook squealed happily when you started climbing onto his chest and he reached down and pulled your legs up and around his waist.

Even though his hands were already busy holding you up, he still managed to slip a few fingers in between your legs from behind. The soaked fabric of your underwear pulled a sultry groan from his kiss bitten lips.

“Holy shit, baby,” he said in a breathy tone. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

You moaned softly into his ear as he trailed your arousal back and forth across your slit. He walked across the threshold of your bedroom door and sat down on the bed. You quickly pushed him on his back, but he sat back up and tried to still your frantic hands.

“Baby, baby,” he implored. “You can slow down a bit. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But,” you pouted. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about this. I’m just excited that it’s actually happening.”

He reached up with one hand and unsnapped your bra with unbelievable precision. He smirked at your awed expression, tossed your bra to the floor, and then leaned up to kiss you sweetly.

“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I just want to take my time with this. There’s no rush.”

Jungkook continued kissing along your jawline and proceeded to your neck. He pulled on your nipples slightly and then slipped his fingers around your waist to toy with the band of your underwear. You took a deep breath and smiled. Maybe you were a little eager, but it wasn’t often that a legit snack was delivered unto you by the Universe. The restraint was a real struggle.

Jungkook nipped at a sweet spot just below your ear and you hissed and clutched desperately at his back in response.

“Kookie,” you whined. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled darkly. “I’d say you deserve a little payback for all the times you teased me, don’t you think?”

“What?” you scoffed. “When?”

Jungkook turned and tossed you onto the bed. He reached up and pulled your hands above your head and held them in place with one hand.

“Every time I saw you,” he reiterated while kissing down your chest. “Your flirty smiles, your sexy winks, your playful jokes, you sat in my lap on more than one occasion when we cuddled on the couch.”

“You never reacted to any of that,” you breathed out in a gasp. “I just assumed you wanted to be friends.”

“I didn’t want to assume anything either,” he admitted. “But I definitely wanted to be more than just friends.”

He leaned in and pulled you into another intoxicating kiss, and you leaned forward to slip your tongue into his mouth, needing to satiate your overwhelming lust. He pushed his own tongue against yours and then pulled away from your lips completely.

He smirked at your needy whine and trailed his free hand across your cheeks then down onto your breast. He leaned in to capture one nipple with his lips and stimulate the other with his fingers. You writhed in desperation, but he only hummed in response.

“Something wrong, babygirl?” He mused. “You seem a little agitated.”

“Gee,” you huffed. “I wonder why.”

Pure amusement played across Jungkook’s beautiful face as he released one nipple from his mouth with a loud popping sound. He licked the valley between your breasts and shifted his body between your legs. You could feel his thick clothed erection brushing across the top of your thighs. He leaned up to kiss your lips and lingered for a moment before releasing your hands.

“Keep your hands where they are, babygirl,” he instructed. “Don’t move them until I tell you to, ok?”

“What happens if I move them?” you challenged. “Will I get in trouble, Kookie?”

“Oh yeah,” he glared. “Big trouble.”

To send his comment further into your mind, Jungkook rubbed his girthy length gently across your clit and grinned wickedly as you moaned wantonly in response. He placed another kiss on your lips and began crawling down your torso. You released a flustered exhale and wiggled your hips beneath him in anticipation.

His hands continued to explore as he kissed a trail down your body. Jungkook paused and adjusted his position when he reached your dripping center. He nuzzled his nose into the thin fabric of your panties and gave the wet spot he found a lick.

Your hips tried to snap forward with the sensation, but Jungkook held you firmly in place. He slid your underwear down your legs and flung them on the floor with the other discarded articles of clothing. He then situated himself firmly between your legs and slid his strong arms under your thighs.

Intent on prolonging his sensual torture, Jungkook ran his tongue delicately along your juicy folds and the blew a cool stream of air onto your exposed nub. The sensation triggered a shiver to erupt across your skin, and you latched onto the pillow above you to anchor your hands in place. Before you could unleash another whine of displeasure, Jungkook dipped the tip of his tongue into your dripping center and swirled it to collect your juices. He released a satisfied hum when he swallowed and got his first real taste of you

“Oh, fuck me,” Jungkook groaned into your upper thigh. “Your pussy is delicious, baby. I may be down here for a while. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Ah,” you squeaked as he licked another stripe through your folds. “Go right ahead, Kookie. I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook nearly growled as he dove into your sopping wet slit, slurping up every drop of slick he could find. You moaned and twitched uncontrollably and he sent you into a tempest of pure pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every bit of suction against your clit, and every grasp of Jungkook’s hands on your skin jolted your nerve endings into a full blown orgasm careening from your center and spreading all the way across your extremities. He was certainly taking his sweet time and enjoying every minute of it.

Once the climax shifted into overstimulation, you reached down and pulled on Jungkook’s hair and begged him to stop. The little bunny grin he flashed you was completely at odds with the sinful actions of his fingers in between your legs. He planted one last lingering kiss on your throbbing bundle of nerves and crawled off the bed.

You were about to protest his absence from the bed, but then he left you slack jawed when he pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them aside. The sight of his quivering length made your mouth water, even more so when he gave it a few purposeful strokes. The swollen pink tip was already weeping with precum and you licked your lips, wondering about the taste.

“Ah, you can’t do that to me,” Jungkook blushed. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me up.”

“Maybe I do,” you teased. “Can you blame me when you’re looking so damn tasty?”

Jungkook chuckled wickedly as he mounted the bed again and hovered over your tantalizing naked figure. He licked his lips, still tasting your essence on his tongue, and raked his eyes up and down your body.

“Are you ready for me, babygirl?” he mused. “Do you think you can take all of me?”

Glancing down at his sizable girth, you popped an eyebrow and tilted your head pensively. You reached over to your side table and opened a drawer to pull out a condom, handing it to Jungkook with a smile.

That’s a damn good question. Can I?

“I guess it’s time to find out,” you teased. “How long are you going to keep me waiting, Kookie?”

That was all the encouragement Jungkook needed to act upon his voracious hunger. He quickly rolled the condom onto his dick and leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He released your swollen lips and you gasped as you felt him rubbing his tip along your damp slit.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Jungkook murmured. “Just know that you’re in for a long night, baby. I’m not going to stop until we’ve made up for all that time we lost.”

With that being said, Jungkook plunged his throbbing cock into you and released a ravenous groan above you. You both remained still for a few moments and you squirmed in his hold hoping to increase the friction you craved. After the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders subsided, his hips burrowed deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. He relished the deluge of your juices dampening his thighs, the melodic moans of his name you uttered over and over again, and most of all, the profound elation of finally reaching the state of euphoria he’d been dreaming about since you were both in college.

The night raged on with your ardent love-making, and after hours of unbridled bliss, you were sprawled across Jungkook’s chest, buzzing with contentment. Both of your glistening chests heaved from exertion, but the fucked out looks on your faces didn’t reveal any hints of exhaustion.

“That was unbelievable, Kookie,” you panted. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

“Because we were both idiots?” Jungkook suggested. “Whatever it was, I’m glad we finally found the time to do it.”

He kissed the top of your head and smacked your ass playfully. You hissed at the contact and pursed your lips at him in a pout. He giggled at your cuteness and wrapped his arms around you.

“What was that for?” you whined. “You’re so mean, Kookie.”

“Hey,” he protested hotly. “I told you to keep your hands in place earlier, but you just had to pull on my hair. I owed you at least one good spank.”

“I think you spanked me enough tonight,” you replied cheekily. “Among other things.”

You both smiled at each other as you replayed the events of the evening in your minds. You leaned over to pull him into another lingering kiss. He chuckled and stopped you from deepening the kiss.

“We should probably clean up,” he argued. “We are a hot steaming mess right now.”

“Speak for yourself,” you shot back. “I’m not a mess.”

He lifted his eyebrows and then reached between your legs to drag his fingers across the stickiness clinging to your legs. You mewled in protest and shot him a dirty look for calling you out.

“Ok, fine,” you agreed. “I’m a mess, but so are you. How about a shower before I change the sheets?”

He nodded in agreement and helped you off the bed and into the bathroom. Your legs were still a little wobbly after so much physical activity.

It’s been a while since I put my thighs to good use.

The intimacy carried on in the shower, but neither of you had enough energy to initiate another round of passion. The most you were able to do was kiss each other lazily after helping each other clean up. After the shower, Jungkook was an absolute gentleman and helped you change your sheets.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” you suggested. “You could just stay. It’s after 5am anyway.”

“I know,” he replied coolly while buttoning his shirt. “But I’m not really in the habit of staying the night.”

“Oh, really?” you teased while popping an eyebrow. “Then can I get you a drink before you leave?”

Jungkook smiled at your hospitality and nodded in response. You were quick to get him a glass of cold water and set it on the counter. A now fully dressed Jungkook walked over and pulled you into another kiss before grabbing the glass and taking a drink. You nuzzled against his chest and sighed. Jungkook set the glass aside, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed the top of your head sweetly.

“Hey,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Where did you find that?”

He reached over and picked up the banana keychain still sitting on your counter. You totally forgot about the small collection of random objects you found in the closet, but now that Jungkook was examining the keychain, your thoughts revisited the mysterious items once again.

“It was in a box I found in my closet,” you confirmed. “Why? Do you recognize that keychain?”

“Of course I do,” Jungkook murmured. “It’s mine, and it isn’t just a keychain, it’s a USB drive.”

He pulled the banana apart at the center and it revealed a USB connector bearing the lettering 512GB. Your jaw dropped at the sudden revelation.

“What the-” you queried. “Why would I have it?”

“Maybe I left it at your place or something?” Jungkook said. “But the point is, I looked everywhere for this thing. I have so many layouts and artwork on here, and this will be incredibly useful at my new job. You are literally saving me weeks of work with this thing.”

“You’re asking me to just give you this flash drive that I found in my apartment mixed in with my stuff?” you reasoned. “How do I know this is actually yours?”

“Because I recognized it,” Jungkook argued. “And I also knew what it was. You obviously didn’t.”

“Hmmmm,” you mused. “I don’t know. What’ll you give me in return?”

Jungkook patted himself down and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a green shamrock on a beaded necklace with the word “Lucky” emblazoned across the front. The look on his face gave off the impression that he was confused, but then it transformed into amusement. He grinned and flipped a switch on the button, causing it to erupt into a barrage of green LED lights.

“I will give you this limited edition, LED powered four leaf clover necklace,” Jungkook proposed. “It’s the perfect good luck charm, and so much better than a horseshoe or a rabbit’s foot. What do you say?”

You eyed the glowing button and burst into a giggle fit. Jungkook was presenting it to you as though it were some kind of grand prize on a game show.

“Where did you even get that?” you asked. “Do you just hide random holiday necklaces in your pants?”

“No,” Jungkook chuckled. “They gave it to me at the bar. I almost left it on the table, but I couldn’t put it down. When I saw you by the bartender, I guess I just put it in my pocket. It’s weird, I usually don’t keep stuff like this. But it’s yours, if you want it.”

“Well,” you grinned. “With a sales pitch like that, how can I resist?”

He joyfully handed you the flashy plastic bauble and pressed another delightful kiss on your lips. You set the shamrock necklace aside on the counter and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck to continue pressing sweet kisses on his soft pink lips. Before things got too heated again, Jungkook pulled away and kissed your forehead. He exhaled a deep breath as you buried your face into his firm chest.

The night had been phenomenal and this thing between you and Jungkook was heating up so well. Maybe there was a possibility for more than just a one night stand? It was a risky proposal to bring up, but your history with Jungkook gave you a sliver of hope.

“So when do I get to see you again, Kookie?” you breathed out while looking up at him. “Now that you’re in town again, maybe we can see each other more often?”

“Uh, well,” Jungkook sighed nervously. “I’m not sure. I just started the job and I’m going to be pretty busy, so I’ll have to let you know.”

“Oh,” you replied while gently releasing your hold on him. “That’s fine, whatever.”

“Hey,” he began while pulling you back into his embrace. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I had an amazing time with you tonight, but I’m not sure I can give anything more than something casual. I wish I could give you more than that, but I’m not really in a good place for anything serious right now.”

You pouted slightly and nodded your head in understanding. Having been in that exact same head space before, you could understand his apprehension. There were easily five years between you and Jungkook, so it was natural that you would be at different places in your life. It would be unfair to expect more of him if he wasn’t ready for it yet.

“I understand,” you murmured knowingly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything like that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more than that,” he admitted. “Believe me. If ever I’m ready for something long-term, I’m going to be looking for you.”

“If I’m still available,” you mocked him playfully. “You never know. Some other gorgeous man might snap me up before then.”

“Well,” he growled while sinking his hand into your hair. “If that’s the case, then he better be ten times better than me and willing to give you the world on a silver platter. You shouldn’t settle for anything less, babygirl. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pursed your lips. He shot you an adorable bunny smile and eagerly kissed your lips once again. He took a moment to brush his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks and then shook his head with a goofy smile.

“Ah, I better go,” he announced in a huff. “If I spend any more time here, I’ll never leave.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” you shot back teasingly. “I’d definitely make it worth your while.”

“I know you would,” he snickered. “But I really do have a lot of work to do. I’m going to need the rest of the day to recover from tonight before I have to be at work on Monday. Someone gave me a hell of a workout.”

You winked at him and leaned up to kiss him once more before he pulled away toward the front door. You shared one last hug and kiss at the open door after exchanging phone numbers.

“Thank you again for giving this USB back to me.” he expressed with gratitude. “You have no idea how much time you’re going to save me. I’ll try to call you later this week. Maybe we can meet up and do something, if you’re not busy?”

“We’ll see,” you smirked. “I’ll let you know.”

Jungkook flicked your chin and shot you an impish grin. You watched him disappear behind the elevator doors before closing the door to your apartment. Once you were back in your kitchen, you sipped at the water you’d poured for Jungkook and looked at the scattered items on the counter. The absence of the banana keychain was noted, but the glowing shamrock was a welcome replacement. You decided to send Gina a little update before you went to bed.

You put your phone on the counter and let out a loud yawn, the evening and all of its activities finally catching up with you. The mess on the counter annoyed you, so you placed everything back in the box on top of the paper map and switched off the lights.

“I’ll take another look at this tomorrow,” you yawned. “Time for sleep.”

As you walked back to your room, you turned off all the lights and got settled into your comfy bed with fresh sheets. There was still a faint scent of Jungkook floating in the air and it calmed your senses. You started drifting off to Dreamland with visions of Jungkook prancing across your brain.

At least I can stop wondering about Jungkook and what might have been. I’d been obsessing over that for so long. Now, I can move on if I need to.

Reassuring visions danced across your brain and all of them resembled Jungkook. He kept tossing four leaf clovers at your feet, and you giggled in your sleep as he continued showering you in lucky charms.

Jungkook made a good point. Four leaf clovers were much better than other good luck charms. Your bunny boy bestowed a bounty of luck upon you, all while blessing you with a rabbit’s foot of his own.

Well maybe a few inches less than a foot, but size isn’t everything.

With a smile on your face and your heart full of possibilities, you coasted on fumes to the final mile into a deep sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be brighter without the added weight of your past insecurities pulling at your nerves.

It’s funny. I almost feel like I’ve regained something I didn’t know was missing. Maybe Oberyn is on to something after all. The Universe definitely makes more sense than it did yesterday.

That couldn’t just be a coincidence.

Could it?

Your mind continued its existential ramblings throughout the wonders of Dreamland, and in your kitchen, something inexplicable was happening. Only Oberyn was awake to witness the subtle purple glow and sparkle emanating from the counter top. It was over in a flash, but Oberyn still sniffed at the air in the kitchen trying to locate the origin of the unexplained phenomenon.

Chapter Two: Soulmates are a Forever Kind of Thing

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

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thinkyoureholy · 5 years

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Soul Eater [6]

[A/n: Aahh I'm posting a day early but I didn't want to leave y'all with nothing for 3 weeks. I'll be going on a short break since my finals start in 2ish weeks and I need to really study for these test to not tank the class. Soul Eater will be back December 15th!]

Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 2.6k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Yunho’s P.O.V-

I paced in front of her door, my thoughts running at a million miles per second. It had been almost two weeks since the last time I saw her and I was worried sick. I tried to stay away, knowing that she told me not to contact her until she was fully healed but I couldn’t keep my mind off of her. The image of her injured body flashed in my mind every time I closed my eyes but what really had me on edge were the last few words she said to me before leaving to her apartment

“I'd hate to have to see you turn into a demon, you alone are meant for salvation ...not damnation.”

I figured selling my soul to a demon would send me straight to Hell but I didn’t know it would also make me a demon after I died. Truth be told after hearing that I regretted selling my soul in the first place but that regret didn’t last long. It scared me to think about turning into a demon but that fear vanished when I realized...Y/N would be there with me. We’d be able to spend hundreds of years together. But the fact that I'm okay with being a demon if that meant still being able to see her...it was a telltale sign of what I felt towards her.

"Are you going to just pace in front of my door all day or are you going to come in?"

I was snapped out of my thoughts the moment I heard her voice, my mind going blank the moment I saw her face. The claw marks...they were gone...not even so much as a scar was left behind. Without thinking I reached out and cupped her face in my hands, moving her head from side to side as I took a closer look. Again, without much thought I grabbed her arms, pulling up her sleeves to see that the crumbling effect her left arm had was all but gone, the gash on her right bicep also gone. I looked back up into her eyes, shocked with how quickly she’s healed.

“You know this could also be a form of harassment you know? Touching me without my consent.” She deadpanned, the look in her eyes as guarded as ever.

I quickly took my hands off her, taking a step back, “Sorry...I just...I can’t believe it. I didn’t think you would be able to heal this quickly. I mean in those three days I watched over you...it…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

She smiled softly, but it wasn’t one that had my heart racing...it was a sad one, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach.

“I’m not human remember? The wounds were just deep so I was having trouble healing on my own but...I had some help from an old friend.”

“You have friends?” I blurted out without thinking.

Shit...I really gotta stop doing that. Before I knew it she had punched me straight in the chest. It wasn’t particularly hard but there was a small throbbing sensation that still spread out over my chest. I winced as I rubbed over the spot her fist made contact with.

“You’re lucky I didn’t punch through your sternum. And I have friends! Or rather...one friend. He’s annoying but he’s the only other demon I can stand and trust.” She snapped, her voice falling in volume to longer she spoke.

Without another word she then turned on her heel and made her way into her apartment. I half expected her to slam the door in my face like she had done so many times before but she left it wide open, her invitation to come in replaying in my mind. I smiled to myself as I stepped inside her apartment, closing the door behind me and following her to the living room. I couldn’t help but look around, seeing that her place didn’t have much but the necessities. She had a couch, a coffee table, a book shelf stocked full with books, and that’s about it. She didn’t have a tv or any other decorations put up.

“You don’t even have a tv? What do you do in your free time then?” I asked as I sat down on the couch.

“I don’t really have much free time...well until now actually. It’s been awhile since I’ve been directly involved in a deal like this so I have more time to myself than I did before.” She explained, heading into the kitchen.

“You don’t know how to work a tv do you?”

I don’t know what led me to ask that question but I kind of wanted to keep the conversation going. This is one of the first times I’ve gotten to talk to her for so long without her being hostile with me. She seems more relaxed than usual so I thought this could be my chance to finally get to know her and start breaking down the many walls she had surrounded herself with.

“I know how to work a tv...I’m not an idiot.” She retorted with a scoff, turning on her heel to face me, “I might have been raised in an entirely different century but I’ve had to keep up with technology as its come out. Speaking of which you humans just keep coming out with new things every year, I’m surprised you haven’t figured out how to clone yourselves yet. I guess that’s a good thing since you’ll be playing God at that point.”

I watched her intently as she rambled on. I don’t think she realized that she was just saying whatever came to mind. This is the first time she’s ever done this around me, I couldn’t help but let a smile tug at my lips as I listened to her. I’m guessing she’s just comfortable enough around me to ramble on the way she was, this was a good sign. But the smile I had on my face fell the moment I saw her wince ever so slightly, her hand resting over her side...right where her ribs were. That action reminded me of her injuries and why I had come up here in the first place.

“Y/N?”

She hummed, waiting for me to continue, leaning against the counter as she continued to hold onto her side.

"Are you really alright?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me the truth.

"I told you already. I'm as good as new. I just needed that extra push and a little bit of rest and poof, back to indestructible demon once more." She rambled animatedly.

I couldn't help but smile at seeing this, even though I knew she was lying through her teeth. It warmed and broke my heart at the same time to know she was lying for my sake...but she didn't really have to. She then went on to talk about something completely different, rambling once more. As I listened to her talk I was reminded by her words the other day...once again they rang loud in my mind.

"Y'know...to me at least...being a demon doesn't sound like such a bad idea…" I mumbled to myself, or at least I thought I did.

Y/N heard every word, the hint of a smile that had been on her face all but vanished the moment she heard me. A look I had never seen before fell over her eyes. Truth be told I was starting to feel a little bit scared the longer she looked at me like that. Just when I thought she'd just continue to stare at me with that deadly look in her eyes she spoke.

"You--you have no idea what it's like so don't go saying that ever again, am I clear?" She said through her teeth, the look in her eyes intensifying.

"But...it--it doesn't seem all that bad. I mean you get to live for hundreds and hundreds of years, you're basically immortal and-"

She cut me off by slamming her fist on the countertop, the tile covering it shattered into pieces. Her eyes had shifted entirely, her demonic eyes staring straight into my soul.

"It doesn't seem all that bad? Really?" She questioned rhetorically, the look on her face making my whole body tremble in fear, "You have absolutely no idea what they do to you down there the first twenty years. They break you in every which way; emotionally, physically, psychologically, spiritually, any way they can find to break you they'll do it and do it ten times over. By the end of it you'll be begging for them to just kill you, anything to get the pain to stop. And once your twenty years are up your transformation finally begins. The pain of your body changing is of course nothing compared to the pain you endured for twenty years."

She took calm collective steps towards me, towering over me as I stayed glued to the couch, too frightened to move, "And when they send you up to Earth?" She paused to chuckle dryly, staring down at her clawed hand, "You go on a murder spree. Seeing humans so carefree makes something in you snap. You think to yourself, 'Why do they get to smile? Why do they get to laugh like that? How come they get to be oblivious to the pains of the world? Why? Why me? Why did I have to endure so much, in both my human and demon life, why?' And that's when you kill your first human. And no, oh no it doesn't just end with one. By the time you come to your senses you've killed hundreds, their blood running down your fingers and staining your skin for all of eternity."

She leaned down, resting a hand on the back of the couch behind me, our faces mere inches apart. She stared at me silently for a moment before she sprouted her wings, the appendages hanging over me menacingly. I cowered back into the couch, trying to create some space between the two of us but she wasn't having it. She reached out and grabbed my collar, keeping me in place as she leaned in closer.

"You have no idea what it's like so don't go casually saying shit like that. The way we're made is not something to be taken lightly, especially not by a worthless human who has had everything handed to him his entire life." She spat out, reaching up to forcefully grab my chin with her fingers, "I've been patient with you, I was even willing to risk everything to cancel our deal but now? Now you can forget about it. I'm not about to save a human who takes demons so lightly, I don't care how clean and pure your soul is. If you don't see anything wrong with being a demon then you deserve to burn."

With that she shoved my face away from her, straightening back out. She turned on her heel and gave me her back to me.

"Get out before I hurt you."

I stared at the back of her head, stunned at her words but then I swallowed down the fear that had been bubbling up inside me since the moment this whole conversation started. I stood up from the couch, refusing to collapse even though my legs felt like they would give out any second. I reached out tentatively, placing my hand on her shoulder as gently as I could.

"You're not gonna hurt me. If--if you really wanted to you would have already. Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I know I was wrong now. I...I should have never said anything because you're right, I have no idea what it's like and--and I'm sorry." I paused, feeling a lump in my throat the moment I felt her shoulders start to shake, "But please, don't--don't shut me out. I won't bring it up ever again please just...just let me stay by your side."

She jumped at those words, returning back to normal, her demonic side hiding under the surface once more, "You don't know what you're asking, Yunho. I'm not someone that can-"

"I don't care about any of that! I don't care! I…I can't stand to be pushed away...not anymore...not by you."

-? P.O.V-

"She's really gone soft hasn't she?" I asked, disgusted with what I was watching.

I scoffed as I watched her stare at the ground, almost gagging at the look she had in her eyes. He and I shared a look, a smirk making its way onto his face.

"We should toughen her back up don't you think?"

The smirk he wore grew into a grin, mischief shining in his eyes. I simply smiled back, a devilish look creeping into my eyes.

"That's the best I idea you've ever had. I think it's time we pay Y/N and her pet a little visit in the human realm."

…...

-Y/N's P.O.V-

I closed the door, leaning my back against it. It took awhile to get Yunho to leave. He kept insisting that he wouldn't move a muscle until he was convinced I was no longer angry with him. After ten minutes of tell him that I wasn't mad he finally left, saying he'd be back tomorrow. I let my eyes close for a moment, sighing heavily as I replayed all the events from the night, a particular sentence I uttered rang louder than the others.

"If you don't see anything wrong with being a demon then you deserve to burn."

Ah...now I've done it. Now how am I supposed to bring up the cancellation of the deal? I basically told him he's on his own and-- I groaned, cutting my thoughts off, rubbing my hands over my face.

"I can't believe just how far you've actually fallen."

That voice! I shifted immediately, getting into a fighting stance but I wasn't quick enough. I struggled against his grip, my internal wound still not completely healed, my movements slowed by them. I clawed at the hand he had around my throat, glaring down at him as he lifted me up high into the air, my feet dangling.

"Ceri," I spat out, the anger in my eyes intensifying the moment I saw him smirk, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

His smirk turned into a grin, our surroundings changing in the blink of an eye, "I'm just following orders, I'm sure you don't mind...right? This very important person wanted to see you and I just couldn't find it in me to refuse her."

My ears perked up as he spoke, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching us. It didn't take me very long to figure out who this "her" was. There's only one bitch in hell that has Ceri at her beck and call and has the gall to do something like this. She stepped out of the shadows, her violet colored eyes glowing as the moonlight reflected off of them. I dug my claws into Ceri's wrists the moment my eyes met hers, twisting the bones in his arm seconds later. He let out a cry of pain, letting me go to cradle his arm close to his chest. I landed on my feet, shaking Ceri's blood off my fingers. Rolling my shoulders I felt my wings extend, my rage unmatched about being summoned to a place like this by a cunt like her.

"Pride...you have a lot of fucking guts doing this. I take it you finally want to die today, huh?" I asked with a growl, seeing her eyes waver at the sight of me but she stood her ground.

Fine. If it's a fight she wants it's a fight she's gonna get.

Tags : @chanyeolol

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28-connor-hugs · 5 years

Text

Detroit: Become Family

Anyone out there interested in some angst and father-son fluff with Hank and Connor? Because I’m here to offer you all some angst and father-son fluff with Hank and Connor.

June 30, 2040

“We’re celebrating your birthday this year, right?”

“I don’t have a birthday; I wasn’t born.”

The look on Hank’s face told Connor he was being too pedantic again. “Fine,” Hank said dryly. “We’re celebrating your android equivalent of a birthday this year, right?”

The familiar sarcasm had, for just a moment, brought the barest hint of a smile to Connor’s face - until the question made it vanish. “Do we have to?”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “No one has to. They just want to. You know that.”

“Yeah.” Connor ducked his head, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “But I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Connor didn’t answer.

“C’mon,” Hank insisted. “I let you get away with that last year. This time I want a reason not to go buy you a Thirium birthday cake.”

“I don’t believe such a thing exists.”

“Humor me.”

Connor frowned, his hand straying toward the pocket where his quarter was stashed. After his deviancy, the coin tricks that had once been a simple calibration sequence had quickly become an anxious tic; much as he wanted to, he had yet to be able to break the habit. “I don’t see any reason to celebrate what Cyberlife made me,” he said so quietly Hank had to move a step closer to hear him. “The day I… killed my first deviant.”

“You didn’t kill him.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Connor-”

“I promised I’d help him, and then I let him die. I won’t… I can’t celebrate that.”

August 15, 2040

And that had been the end of it - or so Connor had thought.

August 15th wasn’t even the first day he could remember. It was the day he was finally fully activated, the day he left Cyberlife for the first time. But there had been many days before that one that he would much rather have forgotten.

There had been so many versions of him that had been “born” and then killed within a matter of hours - the cost of Cyberlife’s attempts to create their most ambitious prototype yet in such a short time.

Connor could remember them all.

He hadn’t on the day of his first mission. Cyberlife had engineered him that way on purpose, erasing the memories of his past lives, ensuring that he didn’t remember what it felt like to die.

Ensuring that he wouldn’t feel a thing when he allowed Daniel to die.

But it hadn’t lasted. The moment he at last broke through the red walls and became a deviant, all of the memories that had been hidden from him came flooding back.

The first emotion Connor experienced as a deviant was guilt. Guilt for what he’d done to Daniel, guilt for turning in the android in Carlos Ortiz’s attic, guilt for uncovering the location of Jericho. It was his punishment for daring to try to free himself from his creators: the ability to understand exactly what he'd done to his own people, to understand the fear they’d felt before they died.

Because of him.

Connor shuddered, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. He was sitting on his bed, leaning back against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, trying not to think about what day it was. Faint blue light played across his face from the large tank that sat nearby, and he stared intensely into it, hoping that the brightly colored tropical fish that swam lazily through the water would be enough to distract him from his thoughts.

It wasn’t. Nothing ever was.

He’d picked up a dwarf gourami off the floor. He didn’t know why. Nothing in his programming told him to do it. It just… felt right.

One of the fish was swimming back and forth near the side of the tank, staring at its own reflection in the glass. Connor had noticed its fascination some time ago; he wondered what it made of its own appearance.

He’d seen himself reflected in the tank as he dropped the fish back into it. He’d had no reaction at the time, this particular body having very little meaning to him. It was likely only temporary, after all. If this one was destroyed, another would simply take its place.

Another fish peeked briefly out from the shelter of a hollow rock, then darted back into the shadows. It had always seemed to favor that hiding place.

The members of the SWAT team nearest to the balcony were hunkered down behind any shelter they could find. Some had already been gunned down by the deviant, and the rest were now more cautious. Connor had looked at the fallen bodies dispassionately. They were mere evidence now, a puzzle for him to piece together and nothing more.

One of the fish seemed to have a favorite plant. It spent most of its time swimming around it and through the leaves - until another fish came too close and it had to chase the intruder off.

The deviant was shooting at everyone it could see. Connor had stepped out onto the balcony and almost immediately taken a bullet to the arm for his trouble. The injury was trivial to him. He was nothing but a machine; all androids were. If the deviant thought differently, then it would be eliminated. Machines could always be replaced.

One of the fish always stayed near the bottom of the tank, seemingly wary of straying too close to the water’s surface. It had once, in its haste to get at its food, leapt clear out of the water and fully over the side of the tank, only Connor’s quick reflexes saving it before it could fall to the ground. It was safely returned to the tank in a matter of seconds, and had never attempted such a feat again. Connor had always wondered if it somehow remembered the experience.

He had watched Daniel fall. It shouldn’t have mattered to him. His mission had been to diffuse the hostage situation, and he had succeeded; the girl was safe. And all it had taken was a handful of empty promises. Daniel had already done far too much harm to be allowed to live, and yet he still believed it when Connor said he would protect him. It was foolish, especially for a being that claimed to be alive.

But Connor had watched him fall. The sight of it was burned into his memory, replaying itself again and again against his will.

There was no guilt. Not yet. It was still too soon for that.

What Connor had learned that day was fear.

“You know, when I got you those fish, I was really hoping they’d distract you.”

Connor was so lost in thought, he actually jumped slightly at Hank’s sudden appearance. He hadn’t heard the door open. “I was just… watching them,” he said lamely.

“Bullshit,” Hank responded evenly, keeping his tone light so Connor would know he wasn’t angry. “You were lost in your own head again, kid.” The android had come a long way in his two short years of life, but, as evidenced by his rapidly cycling LED, he still hadn’t managed to find a way to control his own racing thoughts.

Connor couldn’t deny it. He turned away, pale blue coloring his cheeks. “...couldn’t help it.”

Hank sighed. “Yeah. I know.” He took a step into the room, keeping one hand hidden behind his back. “Look, I… I get it. I get why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday. The people who made you were assholes, they made you do a bunch of crap you regret. It was just a shitty day. But the thing is…” Connor looked up at him curiously, his head tilted to one side. There was something confusing about Hank’s behavior; he seemed almost… nervous? “...what if it didn’t have to be?”

“What?”

Again taking a step closer, Hank pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing a large, flat, rectangular box wrapped in blue paper. “I know you always say you don’t need anything, but I’m pretty sure I found something you’ll want.”

Something twisted in Connor’s chest. He hadn’t expected this. He was well aware that gift-giving was traditional on birthdays, but he thought he’d finally convinced Hank not to acknowledge it. He didn’t want a birthday gift. He didn’t deserve one.

And yet… there was something odd about Hank today that Connor couldn’t quite pin down, a kind of nervous energy that permeated the room. He held the box out insistently, and at last, Connor’s curiosity got the better of him and he took it.

There was a card taped to the top. Connor removed it carefully and opened it. “You’re 2!” was emblazoned across the front in bold, colorful letters, over a row of cartoonishly rendered puppies wearing party hats. It was clearly a birthday card for a toddler. Connor raised an eyebrow at Hank, who shrugged, laughing. “Couldn’t resist. Now c’mon. Open the box.”

Connor turned the box over in his hands, finding a taped edge and carefully peeling it up. In his periphery, he saw Hank roll his eyes. “We’re not savin’ the damn paper, kid.” Connor ignored him, and continued to remove it methodically, stalling for time without really even knowing why. He had a strange, inexplicable feeling that whatever was in the box, he didn’t deserve.

“Con?”

Connor started, suddenly realizing he’d been sitting motionless, staring at the plain brown box, now free of wrapping.

“You okay?”

Instead of answering - he didn’t know how he would anyway - he finally, decisively, pulled the lid off the box.

He froze.

Inside was nothing but a few sheets of paper.

The silence stretched on, and as he stared at the flashes of red in Connor’s LED, Hank began to grow concerned - and then to wonder if he’d made a mistake. It had been a bit of a risk, he supposed, going and putting this into motion all on his own. But when the latest set of android laws had passed, he hadn’t been able to resist.

Maybe he should’ve waited. Maybe they should’ve talked about it first.

“Look, if you don’t want - I mean, I know it’s sudden. You don’t have to-”

Connor interrupted him, his hands shaking as he stared down at the forms in his hands, unable to tear his eyes away from the words printed across the top: Petition for Adoption of Adult. “You want to adopt me?”

Hank shifted his weight from foot to foot; he hadn’t been this nervous in a long time. “If - if you want me to. Just gotta get a couple witnesses and sign for it.”

Connor finally looked up at him, his dark eyes shining. “Why?”

“What?”

“I’m not like you... I’m not human, I don’t know how to…”

“How to what?” Hank asked wryly. “Deal with your feelings like a functional adult? Good news, I don’t either.”

Connor shook his head wordlessly, struggling to voice his fears. Had Hank really thought this through? He’d had a family once… how could Connor ever hope to measure up to what he’d lost? Finally, in barely more than a whisper, the words found their way out: “I don’t know how to be Cole.”

The plaintive statement hit Hank like a blow to the chest. It was the last thing he’d expected to hear - and yet he realized he was prepared for it. Maybe he had been ever since he’d first met Connor.

“I never asked you to be.”

Connor didn’t answer, but looked up at him pleadingly, a mixture of doubt and hope warring in his eyes.

“Do those papers say Cole on them?”

Connor glanced down at them needlessly. “...no.”

“What do they say?”

He had to take a deep breath before he could reply. “Connor… Anderson.”

Hank nodded. “Damn right. I’m not looking for another Cole. I already had one, and no one could ever replace him. I just… realized I’m ready to let someone else have that kind of place in my life.” He cleared his throat, crossing and uncrossing his arms nervously. “I’m ready to let you have that place in my life.”

Connor was speechless. He’d asked Markus once what it was like to have a human father, and the deviant leader’s only response had been a rather enigmatic, “I think you already know.” As such, he’d come to think of Hank as family. He’d suspected - and hoped, of course - that Hank felt the same way, but he’d never been able to ask. To suddenly find himself holding the proof in his hands was overwhelming.

“You see me as… your family?”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “‘Course I do.” He shook his head. “You know, for the most amazing detective ever invented or whatever, you can be oblivious as hell.”

Connor let out a shaky laugh, a smile he couldn’t control spreading across his face as his LED transitioned quickly to bright, cheerful blue. And then, before he even knew he wanted to do it, he’d dropped the box onto his bed and thrown himself into Hank’s arms. The older man let out a faint oof as the wind was knocked out of him by the sudden armful of emotional android, but he adjusted quickly and wrapped his soon-to-be-adopted son in an enormous bear-hug, grinning when he heard Connor again laugh quietly. It was a rare sound from the reserved android, and Hank savored it.

“Happy birthday, son.”

A few of the tears in Connor’s eyes managed to escape, and he pressed his face into Hank’s shoulder. It wasn’t unusual for Hank to call him “son,” but it had a new meaning now. He only hesitated a moment before he replied, his voice muffled, “Thank you… Dad.”

Tears suddenly sprang to Hank’s eyes as well. “Dad” was a title he once thought he’d lost for good. Just two years ago, he never would’ve dared dream that he would one day earn it again - and from an android of all people. He ruffled Connor’s hair affectionately, unable to stop smiling. He heard Connor murmur something into his shoulder, so quietly he could barely make it out - but the words found their way through:

“My name is Connor Anderson.”

#detroit become human #dbh connor #connor rk800 #dbh hank #hank anderson #connor #hank #my writing #it's very important for you all to know that i'm a huge sucker for found family relationships #and also #a huge sap #also i haven't posted fanfic online in YEARS #i'm........#very nervous

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voiceofreader · 6 years

Text

Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Would you be willing to write angst? In particular, headcanons for how Shouto and Bakugo(separately) will react if their S/O goes missing on a mission, only to be found dead weeks later, and their body is left in obviously mocking way, as a twisted message to heroes?

This is part one. I’ll be hopefully getting Shouto’s done at some point. I just can’t find a good plot for his.

I’ve been working on this one for a long time. It’s not as angsty as I thought it would be.

Part 1. Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki groaned, squinting at the light shining in his eyes. That’s what he got for sleeping on the side of the bed, closest to the bathroom. He turned onto his back and sighed. Y/N had gotten up to use the bathroom.

The toilet flushed, and then the bathroom sink turned on. There was a crashing noise, the toilet seat lid being thrown up, and the sounds of y/n violently vomiting.

Katsuki got up and went into the bathroom, checking on his significant annoyance, as he liked the call her. He opened the door all the way, eyeing the poor girl crouched over the bowl, coughing up what she ate for supper.

“That’s the second time today. 6th time this week. Are you sure it’s not a virus or something? You better not give it to me or I’ll kick your ass.” Katsuki squatted down to pull back y/n’s hair. Luckily, her hair was short enough to not get in the way.

“No, I’ve felt fine except when the nausea just randomly kicks in. I’ve never heard of an illness that’s like this.” y/n sat up, Katsuki handed her a washcloth to wipe her mouth.

“That’s weird. Just go to the doctor tomorrow. At least they can get you something for the random vomiting. You’re barely keeping anything down, it’s not good you know.” Katsuki grumbled. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call and get a time set up in the morning.” y/n stood up. Katsuki leaned on the sink, watching her carefully.

y/n walked past him, and out of the room, and into the hallway. Katsuki went back to bed.

He didn’t like seeing her like this. It worried him that something might be going on.

y/n slowly drank a glass of water, staring off out the kitchen window into the next apartment building. As she drank all the water, her stomach grumbled and just like that, she was doubled over the sink.

Wiping her mouth and groaning, she bit her lip. “Come on. First, I miss my period and now I’m throwing up. I can’t be yet. It’s not the right time.”

Katsuki opened his eyes, hearing the distant voice of his girlfriend talking on the phone.

“No, that would be perfect. Thank you.”

Y/n walked into the bedroom. “What was that?” Katsuki asked. “The doctor’s office. I have an appointment at 10.” She said, as Katsuki looked at the digital alarm clock on his side, on his nightstand, reading the time as 7:34am. “So, I’m stopping by the agency first because I have a report that needs approved by Kobayashi and then by the time that’s over with, I’ll be heading off to the doctor’s office.” y/n continued on, taking off her shirt that she slept in that used to be Katsuki’s until he gave in and relinquished all rights to it.

“Want me to go with you to support you or some shit?” Katsuki yawned.

While sliding open the closet door, y/n hesitated. True, she was going to a doctor. But it was more of a gynecologist, because y/n had a feeling that her nausea spells were from something else and not some random virus. And if she was right, she didn’t want Katsuki to know right away. She needed to ease him into it.

Sure, the two had been together since 1st year of high school and moved in together right after graduation, but they both were really finally getting somewhere with their separate hero careers. They had been living together in this apartment for 2 years now. Katsuki had gotten a raise, and was rising in popularity real quick since his run in with the notorious villain, The Evil Scientist.

A man who got his phd taken away after getting caught doing illegal surgeries on people. A man, whose quirk gave him scalpel sharp fingernails, that he could retract at will. He was also extremely brilliant and cunning, with great connections that made him almost impossible to find or stop.

Katsuki was able to defeat him, and get him put into police custody.

But he had escaped recently, and the pressure to catch him once more was being put on Katsuki. He didn’t mind because he knew he would win.

And y/n was finally going to be allowed to go on solo missions.

If y/n was in fact pregnant, her career would have to be halted and she’d be stuck on office duty. Because there is no way she’d risk hurting her child, trying to fight.

And y/n definitely knew Katsuki didn’t want kids yet. He hadn’t even hinted that he wanted to get married even. A child now wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, no. I’m fine. Besides, don’t you have a meeting at like 11? You know, a briefing on that attack that just happened yesterday?” y/n slipped on a nice top. “Yeah, I do. But if I don’t turn up, what are they going to do? They can’t fire me. I’m the best hero they got right now!” Katsuki let his huge ego show. He smirked, eyeing y/n’s ass in those tiny panties of hers. He started to replay last night’s events in his head. He kinda wanted to make a reenactment of it right now.

Though, he pouted when she shifted into a pair of white skinny jeans. Though, those pants really shaped her legs nicely. So he wasn’t that affected. It was a nice view either way.

“I don’t want you burning down my agency. Even if we’d be there for an hour or so, you’d try to fight someone and explode. Then the building would burn down.You have your own agency. Destroy it instead, and not mine.”

“I’d only pick a fight if that fancy pants was there. That guy really pisses me the fuck off.” Katsuki growled.

“Aannd, that’s why you’re not allowed to come with me,” y/n teased with a smile.

Katsuki finally decided to get out of bed. Y/n, now finished getting dressed, skipped over to Katsuki, leaning over, stealing a quick kiss. Katsuki groaned, pulling y/n back down by her arms, kissing her hard.

Y/n, who was emotionally sick with worry, let it all melt away. Katsuki’s love calmed her down just for a moment.

She was still terrified that she was really pregnant. Would soft moments like this disappear?

Finally pulling away, but keeping her forehead against his, y/n sighed. “I love you, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, love you too, punk.” Katsuki responded softly in a grumble.

“I gotta go now if I wanna make it in time.” Y/n stepped away, Katsuki frowned.

“Let me know what the doc says.”

“So, it says here, you’re here to confirm a pregnancy?” The female doctor said, reading the tablet’s screen. Y/n sat on the chair, fiddling with her ring on the right ring finger. It was a thin silver band, and had a white opal stone in the shape of a heart. Katsuki had gotten it for her with his first pro-hero paycheck.

She was constantly messing with it when she was nervous. “Yes.” She nodded. “Right, I’ll have you give a urine sample, as well as a blood sample as well to make sure the results are accurate. First, I’d like to ask a few questions.” The doctor sat down on the swivel stool.

“Let’s see. When was your last period?”

y/n had to think for a minute. “It was May 15th. I haven’t didn’t get one at all in June, and this month’s hasn’t happened yet.”

“Is it normal for you to have an irregular cycle?”

“No. It happens usually between the 12th and 16th of every month. I’ve never had one skip before.”

“Are you on any birth control?” “Yes. I’m on the pill. The one you take every day. I don’t have the brand name, but I’ve been taking it since I was 16 or 17 years old.”

“What are you taking it for? Is it for your cycle?” “I started taking it for birth control. But I’ve stuck with it because it really helps manage my acne.”

“Are you currently sexually active?” “Yes.” “How many partners have you had in the last year?” “Just one.”

“Now, besides missing your period and nausea, have you noticed any other ailments?” “I didn’t know what the symptoms could be so I looked some up, and yeah. I’ve been going to the bathroom more frequently, and I’ve really been more tired than usual, but that could just be from my constant vomiting in the middle of the night and not being able to go back to sleep.”

After answering more useless questions and giving the samples, y/n finally was waiting back in the doctor’s office, legs bouncing up and down in nervous anticipation.

“All right, Miss l/n, I have the test results for your urine test. The blood results will take a few hours, and you will receive a call for that. But, from your urine test, the results say you are indeed pregnant. And we’ll have a better, more accurate answer after your blood test is done, but from my guess you are 6 and a half weeks pregnant. Do I need to talk to you about alternative options? Adoption, abortion, or any classes?”

“I- uh... I think I’m keeping it. I don’t know how Katsuki will take the news, but I’m not getting rid of it. Uhm, is there a way to know what gender it is? Or if there’s just one?” Y/n’s mind raced with thoughts, she could barely focus on anything except her growing nausea. She started to sweat, and her voice trembled. She was shaking.

“Well, we usually can’t tell the sex until 16 to 20 weeks by ultrasound. And 10 weeks is the earliest we can check how many there is. Though, I recommend just doing the one ultrasound for both after 16 weeks just for your convenience. I’d like to also give you this pamphlet telling you more about your pregnancy, what to expect, when to get checkups, ultrasounds, and what to avoid doing.”

Y/n left the hospital with her papers in hand.

Should she wait until she gets the blood results to tell Katsuki or should she just let him know now? Should she even tell him?

She didn’t want to ruin his hero career. She trusted that Katsuki would accept his role as the father of the baby, but y/n knew she’d constantly feel guilty if Katsuki’s road to the number 1 hero was delayed, or completed ruined because of this child.

She didn’t know what to do. She sat on the bench at the bus stop. While her fingers shook tremendously, she was able to call a friend.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end answered. “Kirishima? I-I’m pregnant... and I don’t know how to tell Katsuki.” y/n replied, voice wavering, stray tears falling down her cheeks. She was lucky it was mid day, and she was alone at the stop. “Pregnant? Congrats, y/n! Man, this is awesome! You and Bakugou are gonna have an awesome baby!”

“Yeah, thanks. But- but, he doesn’t know yet. And I’m scared to tell him.” y/n didn’t notice the figure in a black long coat approach her.

“What do you mean? Just tell him. I mean, if you wanna make it special, make a date out of it, and then tell him. Or those cute videos, where you know the mom buys baby shoes and puts them in a gift box? But maybe Bakugou would be too dense to understand what it means. But, just tell him, y/n. He’ll be happy, you know. He wants to be with you forever and have a family. I mean, you guys aren’t married yet, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m positive that he’ll be excited, even if he has a hard time showing it.” Kirishima babbled on.

The figure in the coat snatched y/n’s phone from her hand, and pressed the end call button.

“Three weeks have passed since pro hero h/n* disappeared. Police are still investigating. Her cell phone has been discovered, showing her last call made was to a friend. Police have stated that at this moment, they have no standing suspects. Ground Zero, has been cleared as a suspect as of last week. H/n and Ground Zero who made their relationship public as of last October, but have been together since their time at U.A. high school. Ground Zero was in a meeting at his agency around the same time h/n was last seen at the Mustafu General Hospital. There has been no suspects made at this time. Many believe it could be the work of the villainous mastermind, Evil Scientist, who Ground Zero had fought and helped put in jail. Although, the villain since then has escaped prison, and his whereabouts are unknown. Since Ground Zero and h/n have confirmed their relationship, many believe that h/n was taken just for her connection to Ground Zero. Although, police have yet to comment on the theory. Ground Zero has yet to make a public announcement about h/n.”

The T.V. in the conference room echoed in the room, as everyone in it was dead silent. A band of police and heroes together in one room, discussing more details discovered in the missing case.

“Ground Zero has yet to make a public announcement. Ha! News Anchor Suzuya says that as if Ground Zero is expected to make a speech!” The news show that was airing seemed to be cut off and a new program was playing.

Katsuki perked up at the familiar voice. The background was a surgical table, next to it, medical tools on a silver tray. There was some female laying on the table, wriggling around. Her lower torso and legs were on screen.

“Y/N!” Katsuki shouted, recognizing the shirt and pants. That’s what she was wearing the day she went missing.

“The doctor is in, my fellow patients! Here today, I’d like to give a tiny anatomy lesson. What does the uterus look like, after 11 weeks pregnant? Also, what size is the fetus at this point in the first trimester? You know, I always wanted to expand my medical expertise into women’s health. The female body able to make life. It’s so fascinating.”

Katsuki already knew that y/n was pregnant after the police had questioned him. It put him more on edge. Not only was his girlfriend, and hopefully someday wife in danger, but his child as well.

“Someone call the news station! I want this off the air pronto! Track where it’s being broadcasted!” The Chief of police shouted, giving orders to the other cops.

“Now, what does the pro hero, Ground Zero have to do with this? You might ask yourself. Well, just as Suzuya had said, Ground Zero and missing hero h/n are currently in a romantic relationship. And before I get to my point completely, I’d like to say, the hero industry is a mess, isn’t it? These people we trust to protect us, are being treated as celebrities. Merchandise, special appearances, advertisement, and all that money! Everyday people, just like the rest of us, are being praised and yet scrutinized for doing what any of us could do, except they have a little piece of plastic that says they can do what they want. H/n is missing and we bring Ground Zero into it? Expecting him to make a public announcement? About what? About how he stuck his dick into her and now she’s nowhere to be found? The only thing that connects him to her disappearance is that h/n is currently carrying his child. But I suppose, that he now has something to do with it, now that I have his little sweetheart tied up on my table. And it’s all his fault. You see, I would’ve left her alone, if it wasn’t for the little public confirmation of their relationship. What kind of monster announces the world, heroes, civilians and villains alike, something like that? You just told us villains your weakness. By you telling us your deep love for one another, you just put each other on a hook, dangling right above a swarm of starving sharks. I’m not here today, telling you that love is a terrible thing, because it isn’t. It’s a wonder mess of chemicals flooding our brains, making us feel all warm inside. But when you’re a hero, you don’t deserve happiness like love. You can’t have a happy family. Plus, I just don’t like how brash Ground Zero is. No manners. But, this pretty girl has been so good for me. I mean, what can she really do, having been tied to this table for how long now? A few weeks?”

The camera panned up, just for a few moments, revealing y/n’s face. Sweat, blood, and bruises covering her face, hair sticking to her face, eyes leaking tears as she stared into the camera as if her intense gaze would reach Katsuki. Her mouth was covered by some thick muzzle of sorts.

So her eyes were all she had to convey her goodbye and her apology.

She knew that she was going to die that night. Even if police showed up right at that moment, Evil Scientist would have her killed. He knew if he was going to get caught that night, that he was going back to prison. And y/n would be a message.

Katsuki, who no longer was sitting in the chair, hands balled up, tears shamelessly falling down his face. He also knew that he wouldn’t get to save her in time. The location was still unknown.

“Now, let’s get started, shall we?” The camera panned back to y/n stomach. At 11 weeks, she wasn’t showing yet. Scientist pulled up y/n shirt to her chest. With a long and almost scalpel like nail, Evil Scientist cut into the flesh.

A muffled, pain filled shriek came from Namie.

1 month later.

Kirishima stood on the train, one hand holding onto the handle, another holding his phone. He had headphones in, listening to the news. y/n’s death was slowly disappearing from each day’s news broadcasts. Although, many hero fans still posted about her. Pictures of y/n younger days from when she was in U.A. at any of her sport festivals, or her school pictures as well. Or her social media posts.

It was scary how fast life seemed to pass even though it seemed to have stopped on that dreaded night. It still was burned into Kirishima’s memories, as fresh and clear like he was witnessing it once more.

After Evil Scientist’s location was found, a group of heros and police stormed the place. Katsuki was advised to go home, since y/n was then already dead. Her final breath was broadcast to the whole viewing area.

But Katsuki didn’t listen, obviously. Full of adrenaline and negative emotion, Katsuki was invincible as he plowed through the countless minions and straight up to the main villain himself.

Kirishima eventually caught up to his friend, staring in horror as he found Katsuki kneeled over a body, mercilessly pounding his fists into the person’s face.

“What am I supposed to do now! You took her from me! You piece of shit! We were supposed to get married! I have the ring and everything! What about our baby! My family! You took my family away from me! Why!”

“Why! DAmmit!”

With each question Katsuki screamed, he hit, and blood when flying.

Kirishima knocked at the door. “Yo, Bakugou! You home?” He knew he wasn’t going to get a response. Katsuki had become a recluse. He didn’t answer his phone, didn’t leave his bedroom for anything. He didn’t even attend the funeral. Though, there was no one to say goodbye to. There wasn’t a body.

y/n’s body was dissolved in acid and drained into the sewers.

Kirishima walked into the quiet apartment. Katsuki no longer bothered locking the door. “Bakugou? Have you eaten today? I know your mom told me she brought over some food yesterday.” Kirishima casually called as he walked around the small apartment. Dust was slowly starting to take over everything.

Kirishima opened the fridge, seeing tupperware filled with untouched food, with a note on each bowl with loving words of encouragement signed by Mrs. Bakugou who came over every so often to check up on her grieving son.

Kirishima strode into the bedroom, seeing Katsuki sitting on the edge, perched over on his knees, staring at a small black box in his hand.

His hair was messy in a restless way. Katsuki was wearing grey sweatpants and a black shirt with a skull on it. The shirt y/n took forceful ownership of a while back.

He had dark circles under his bloodshot, red eyes.

Kirishima knew that box. Katsuki first threw it into the mirrors on the sliding closet doors, shattering one side of the doors.

Kirishima and Mrs. Bakugou had cleaned up the mess, and put the ring back into its box, after the impact bounced both across the room in different directions. Now, Katsuki never let go of the box. A constant reminder of his plans to marry y/n.

He was waiting until her birthday, which was now in 5 days.

“Have you eaten today?” Kirishima asked once more, though in a softer tone. Katsuki didn’t even blink in response. It had been like this for some time now. In the beginning, he at least spoke. Although through broken sentences consisting of profanities and threats.

Now, he was an empty shell, waiting for his beloved to walk through the front door. But that day would never come.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #Bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #Katsuki bakugou #voiceofreader #angst

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benjikarofsky · 5 years

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Once Upon a Dream || Para

WHO: Benji Karofsky (@benjikarofsky) and Topher Pierce (@topherxpierce). Mentions Franco Del Rio ( @southsidefranco )

WHERE: “Benji’s Apartment”

WHEN: 15th May 2019

NOTES: Still hiding at Sebastian’s, Benji finds himself thinking about Topher in a fairly unusual way.

TRIGGERS: N/a

BOLD: Benji

ITALIC: Topher

WORD COUNT: 2173

Benji closed his eyes, still trying to get used to the feeling of sleeping in a bedroom other than his own. He had gotten so used to his apartment--the feeling of Franco in his arms, the sounds of Cortana sleeping in the hallway, the presence of knowing Topher was asleep just one room over... he had grown to love it. And the longer he was away from it, desperately trying to think, the longer he realized he missed it.

He faded off quickly and within seconds was transported back into his apartment, waking up on the couch. "...Guys?" he called lightly, slowly walking from the couch to the hallway between his room and Topher's, "...Cort? Toph? Franc? ...Anyone here?"

Topher felt as though he was experiencing every emotion at the same time with the most prominent of them being fear. There was no relief that came with laying on his bed, no waves of happiness at Cortana's presence, just shockwaves of worry that struck constantly in the form of shivering. Mercy seemed to be quite the foreign concept, so the former Serpent set off towards the living room in the hopes that a game or show might provide some sort of distraction.

He settled in his favorite chair after he'd loaded up Gears of War 2 and couldn't help a small smile when he noticed that Cortana had followed him then decided to rest by his feet. Topher hoped that he could push past all the memories of various gaming marathons with Benji, that he could just focus on the task at hand. He'd restarted the campaign the night before then paused right before he got to the so called 'impossible' level, only because his neverending concern made him sleepy.

Benji saw Topher pass him and turned, "Toph!" he called, following him and Cortana back to the living room. "Toph, I'm home," he stated, sitting on the sofa next to Topher and his chair.

"Hey, Cort. Toph gave you your insulin while I was gone, right? You look good." He put his hand out for Cortana to lick, but paused when she didn't seem to notice, choosing to cuddle closer to Topher's feet instead. "Uh... okay. 3 days was a long time. I get it. Kinda cold though, Cort..."

He pulled his hand back awkwardly, then turned to the TV, not realizing his best friend wasn't acknowledging him in any way. "Wait, you're replaying 2 without me? No way, Dude. I want in. Change it to split screen." He looked around for the second controller, confused that he didn't see it anywhere. "Dude, where's the controllers? I want in," he said, finally turning to look at Topher.

Topher just tried to maintain his concentration on the game, but it didn't take long for him to screw up. "Son of a -," he trailed off as he watched Marcus get annihilated by Locust all because his mind wandered for just a moment. Cort glanced up at him as if she wanted an explanation for the outburst. "It's nothing, go back to sleep honey," the former Serpent cooed, even though it couldn't have been further from the truth.

He remembered the repeated playthroughs of each game as if they happened yesterday. Topher knew that he could handle himself playing any game from Gears to Mario Kart, but there was still something about teaming up with Benji that made every puzzle piece fall into place. They were an army of two, an unstoppable duo. And yet the radio silence continues, he thought to himself as he removed his phone from a sweatshirt pocket.

"I know you can't answer me, but let's pretend you can. Cort, what's wrong with me?" Topher paused the game in order to look down at her. She just let out a sigh that was interpreted as an 'I don't know' of sorts. "Were any of those anons on to something and Benji's not coming back? Or am I just letting paranoia get the best of me?"

"What? Toph, I'm right here." He waved his hands in front of Topher's face, "I know you're pissed I left, but the silent treatment's pretty harsh as-is. It's another thing to somehow get Cort in on it."

He bit his lip, processing the rest of what Topher said. "...I didn't mean to freak you out. I just needed to think, and I... I didn't want you to tempt me. I know he already cheated on me, but I couldn't cheat on Franc. I love him too much."

He swallowed. "I... I don't wanna be married to Franco. Not right now, anyway. Not while he doesn't acknowledge the sacrifices I've made for him. But I do love him. And I don't mind the long engagement as much as I thought I did. B... But I love you just as much." He sighed. "And I... looked at that 'poly' stuff. Like you said. And it's still a lot to get used to... and Franco'll probably try to kill us for suggesting it, but I think it's the right solution," he rattled off--obviously the time alone had helped him think more than he first realized.

"...Because I love you. And I want to be with you." When Topher didn't respond, he sighed louder, throwing his hands up in defeat. "...Toph, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you why I left. I didn't want Franc to find out and try to fight you or something! Just... please forgive me. It's been 4 days and 5 hours since you told me you loved me back. I wanna get this fixed so I can think about kissing you without feeling guilty. Please."

Topher continued to play Gears and as a result, failed spectacularly plenty more times in the span of a few minutes. He eventually placed the controller on an armrest as he picked up his phone again then looked down at Cortana once again. "It's nearing midnight and here I am waiting when normal people would be asleep by now. Hell, Ben's probably asleep."

It was one thing to lack the company of your best friend. It was another thing to lack the company of someone you loved. Perhaps that was what pushed his anxieties back to the forefront of his mind and oh, how Topher hated it. He couldn't dwell on any of these negative emotions for too long or else he risked opening the door again for the storm cloud that occupied his mind after that car crash.

"But that's what you do for loved ones, isn't it?" The former Serpent asked himself as he tapped his phone screen back to life. A picture of himself with Benji greeted him once again, one of many reminders of brighter days and the potential for many more in the future. "You worry about them like there's no tomorrow and then when they come back, you make them promise to never make you worry like that again. But I still love him, don't think there's anyway I could stop."

With a quick glance over at the door, his gaze flicked back to the paused game and then to his phone. Guess it wouldn't hurt to try texting him. So, Topher opened up his messages in order to get to typing. "I know it's late and that I should be in bed, but I wanted you to know that I still have your back and will always have it. Regardless of whatever option you take, I will follow your lead and you to the ends of the Earth," he read aloud then pressed the arrow to send it. With that, the former Serpent picked up his controller once again and hoped for the best.

"I love you too," he whispered back. He moved his hand to take Topher's, then blinked when he picked up the controller and start to play again, their two hands intertwined from Benji point-of-view, but Topher not seeming to notice.

"You... you can't see me, can you? Or... or feel me? Or hear me?" he realized, his voice quiet. He blinked hard and realized he couldn't remember leaving Sebastian's house to come home; he didn't remember falling asleep on the couch. At the very least, this was a dream--at the most, it was a premonition.

He swallowed hard. "...Is this what you're doing right now? Just... worrying yourself sick and trying to distract yourself? Toph, I told you to think about yourself first for a change. I didn't think you'd just..." he trailed off, letting his head drop in disappointment. He'd gotten so angry at Franco for doing it, but here he was doing the same thing with Topher. He knew how loyal his best friend was--had he thought for even a second, he would've realized that he wasn't going to just take time for himself and await his return. He was gonna worry. And knowing Topher, worry endlessly.

"...I've been gone 3, almost 4 days... When's the last time you slept?" He knew he couldn't hear him, but he turned to Topher anyway, hoping he could trigger the question to come to him somehow. "Topher, when's the last time you slept?" he begged.

The sixth time turned out to truly be the charm and Topher finally got past the level. He gave a quiet cheer that was soon interrupted by a yawn. "Lord, what time is it?" A quick glance told him that it was past midnight, 12:34 to be exact. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so tired and that counted every single all nighter that he pulled during his high school days.

He needed to get some rest, caffeine and rapidly multiplying concerns just weren't cutting it as an energy source anymore. But there was the chance that Benji might come home and want to talk, plus Topher generally wanted to be awake in case something else demanded his attention. Cortana's needs were taken care of though, the same went for the grand majority of his own with sleep the glaring exception. He didn't know of any other drama that was currently taking place in 'fair' Riverdale.

With those thoughts at the forefront of his mind now, the 18 year old pushed himself up in order to retrieve one of the many blankets in his room as well as a pillow. When he returned, the blanket was draped over him while the pillow went behind his back. "If I fall asleep while playing Gears, so be it," Topher remarked to himself as he resumed the game. Sleepiness already had a decent grip on him, so there was quite the grand chance he would end up asleep in this chair. His worries just needed to shut themselves up for the night and there was no better way than playing a hint more.

Benji shook his head. "I need to come home..." he whispered to himself. Knowing that Topher was doing this--staying up in the hopes that he'd be coming home--he couldn't handle it. How could he really continue putting someone he loved through this much torture? It wasn't fair.

He bit his lip and stood up, walking over so he was between Topher and the TV. He knew he couldn't see him or feel him, but that didn't change what he wanted to do. "...I'm coming home, okay? And I'm sorry that I've put you through this hell. I'll never do it again." he whispered, giving a sad smile.

"I... I can't do this until we work things out with Franco, but... this is a dream. And I'm impatient," he explained, giving a chuckle dripping with emotional exhaustion. He leaned down and cupped Topher's face, then pulled him into a soft kiss, shutting his eyes until he eventually pulled back. "...I love you, Toph. I'll be home soon."

One by one, each worry faded to the back of his mind as he navigated Marcus through treacherous territory. The desire to sleep continued to wrap itself around Topher as the moments stretched into seconds then minutes. He'd gotten bits and pieces these past few days, but that wasn't enough, even with the aid of caffeine alongside concerned energy.

All the scenarios that had turned his brain into a movie theater slowly shut themselves off for the night, yet they left a few thousand reassurances on the tip of his tongue for no particular reason. Perhaps for later use or maybe it was just the desire to start speaking out loud again. Regardless, Topher pulled the pillow up to where it was behind his head and allowed the warmth of his blanket to pull him just a bit closer to dreamland.

"Sweet dreams Cort and Ben, wherever you are," he muttered. "I love you both with all of my heart, in ways that even I can't express properly with words. Or maybe it's just because I'm tired as hell." Topher managed to make Marcus take a few more steps, but then the game was sleepily paused and the controller fell into his lap as sleep finally won out.

#para16 #para #topher

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thomasroach · 5 years

Text

Top RPG News Of The Week: April 28th (KH3, Persona 5 Royal, Bloodborne and More!)

The post Top RPG News Of The Week: April 28th (KH3, Persona 5 Royal, Bloodborne and More!) appeared first on Fextralife.

Happy weekend from Fextralife! If you’ve been too busy to keep up on the latest in the games we cover or are looking for a refresher we’ve got you covered! Here’s a bite-sized version of the Top RPG news of the week. Taste all the latest news across the Fextralife Wiki Network.

Check out the video above and read on for the text!

Kingdom Hearts 3

In a Twitter post by the Director Tetsuya Nomura on the official Kingdom Hearts’ account, an announcement was shared with the release date for the free DLC update which will add Critical Mode to Kingdom Hearts 3. The new mode was made available on April 23rd. The mode was revealed earlier this year, set to add further difficulty for those looking for more of a challenge.

The tweet also revealed that the mode will be different from previous iterations in the franchise. Previous titles have added increased damage dealt by enemies, but it looks like this won’t be the case for KH3. Critical Mode gives players access to quite a few abilities when you start the game as well as “Critical” abilities to help you deal more damage. Sora’s max HP and MP have also been halved in this mode, as well as there are lower frequency of situation commands and magic.

This is not the only release KH3 will have this year, a story DLC is set to release by the end of 2019 and it will not have a Final Remix version but instead further DLC content.

Kingdom Hearts 3 is available to play on Playstation 4 and Xbox One with the free DLC Critical Mode which launched on April 23rd.

To read more about this news find it here in Kingdom Hearts 3 Critical Mode Releases On April 23rd.

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

The developers FromSoftware have released a new patch for Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice which comes with various updates and fixes for the action-adventure game.

The latest patch 1.03 brings a range of improvements which includes the adjustment efficiency and Spirit Emblem cost for select Prosthetic Tools, Combat Arts as well as certain items. It also reduces the Posture dealt by the first hit from the Combat Arts known as “Senpou Leaping Kicks” and “High Monk” which was due to it creating more damage than it was suppose to in certain situations.

There are also some fixes which include Posture and Vitality of Blazing Bull which was meant to help in terms of game pacing as well as bring more of a balance when it comes to timing in combat.

For a full list of updates in Patch 1.03 you can read the details on our wiki patch notes page for all the latest updates.

To read more about this news find it here in Sekiro Shadows Die Twice Patch 1.03 Update.

Square Enix

Making some changes to the lineup at E3 this year, Square Enix has shared their press conference slot which will be on June 10th at 6pm PT, which traditionally has been held by Sony in the past. As Sony forgoes E3 this year, Square Enix will be taking the time slot. This is just a few days after Octopath Traveler launches on PC on June 7th.

As for what they will be showing this year, hopefully its more on the Final Fantasy 7 remake which has been a little quiet on the details so far. After Tetsuya Nomura finished up with Kingdom Hearts 3, fans have been hoping to see the progress for FF7. Previously the director has shared the possibility of making compilation titles. It was also earlier this month that they announced Naoki Hamaguchi as Co-Director for Final Fantasy VII who was previously project lead.

Square Enix have also revealed along with the recent release of the Critical Mode for Kingdom Hearts 3, there will be further DLC content which could be outlined further at E3.

There could be more surprises at this year’s E3 but we’ll have to wait and see what they’ll reveal on June 10th.

To read more about this news find it here in Square Enix Sets Their E3 Press Conference For June 10th.

Bloodborne: The Board Game

CMON games have launched their Kickstarter for Bloodborne: The Board Game, with the project already exceeding the initial pledge goal. The board game is based on FromSoftware’s dark RPG Bloodborne that originally released in 2004.

It looks like the project has got well over the needed amount for its fruition which was set at $200,000 as the number has already gone well over $1 million. The estimated delivery for the board game has been stated for May 2020.

The game sets to bring the title to a table top board game, with figurines, cards depicting the action, hunt track board and tiles to bring it all together. There are also dashboards that will depict your Trick Weapon, hunter status and more. You can play with 1 to 4 players with an average playtime for game of 60 to 90 minutes.

If you want to back Bloodborne: The Board Game Kickstarter campaignyou can do so for the next 20 days. The campaign ends on May 15th at 9:00AM AWST/May 14th at 6:00PM PT.

To read more about this news find it here in Bloodborne: The Board Game Kickstarter Has Over $1 Million In Pledges Already

Slay the Spire

The Playstation 4 version of Slay the Spire will be releasing in May and developer MegaCrit have released a new trailer showcasing the card game that mixes in RPG elements.

The deck builder card game lets players choose from three characters who each have their own card set to battle it out against enemies using strategy. With a range of 250 cards to sought after, there is many ways to replay the game. The devs also add items and events to help change things up, which will effect the way your deck plays.

Originally Slay the Spire focused on more single-play action, but MegaCrit add some competition aspects by having a Daily Climb. The tower challenges players to a number of particular enemies to best, as they try to make their way to the top of the tower while competing for the best spot with players around the world.

Slay the Spire is currently available on PC and will be coming to Playstation 4 on May 21st. A Nintendo Switch version is set to launch later this year.

To read more about this news find it here in Slay The Spire Releases Official Trailer Ahead Of PS4 Launch.

Persona 5 Royal

Altlus have revealed Persona 5 Royal which is a more expanded version of its school based JRPG and it will come to west next year for PS4.

Atlus have already teased about Persona 5 Royal, releasing a trailer in March featuring a new female character that appears to be playable. But more details of its release have been shared as it will come to PS4 in the west next year.

During Atlus’ Persona Super Live concert held in Japan, the publisher teased more features for Persona 5’s expanded edition. These will include new areas to explore in Tokyo, new characters, reworked dungeon design with new foes to face, graphical and UI improvements. There will also be new music to enjoy and a new third semester at Shujin Academy.

Persona 5 has sold 2.7 million units and has now joined Playstation Hits with a permanent price of $19.99.

Persona 5 Royal sets to release in the west sometime next year and in Japan on October 31st 2019.

To read more about this news find it here in Persona 5’S Royal Edition Will Launch In The West On PS4 Next Year.

Persona 5 Scramble The Phantom Strikers

But that’s not it for Persona news as Atlus have revealed a new title Persona 5 Scramble The Phantom Strikers which was announced at the end of day 2 of the Persona Super Live P-Sound Street 2019 concert.

The title was teased earlier in April as Persona 5 S, now being given its full name Persona 5 Scramble The Phantom Strikers. This also sets to be the first action-RPG in the series. The project sets out to be a joint collaboration between Atlus, Koei Tecmo and Omega Force.

A new trailer shows the Joker defeating masses of enemies. You can also see the elemental weaknesses system which is present in the Persona games. The game also is a brand new story and features a new character which is seen at the end of the trailer.

There is currently no release date as of yet for Persona 5 Scramble The Phantom Strikers but it will release on Playstation 4 and Nintendo Switch.

To read more about this news find it here in Persona 5 Scramble The Phantom Strikers Action-RPG Unveiled for PS4 and Switch.

Anthem

Bioware has decided to delay the release of its post-launch content for Anthem which includes the anticipated Cataclysm which adds the first four-person raid type activity to the game.

Bioware are set to release some features as part of their “Act One” of post-launch content. This decision was made as they are trying to make improvements to the games current state.

This isn’t the only feature that has been postponed, the game it set it gain a mastery system, guilds, new legendary missions, weekly stronghold challenges, leaderboards and further freeplay events. There is no news as of yet when these additions will be implemented into the game.

According to the roadmap that was released for Act One, only the new Stronghold mission called The Sunken Cell is on schedule as this arrived yesterday. Further updates came with 1.1.0 which include access to the Forge anywhere in the world, ability to launch new expeditions from the expedition menu, and access to contracts without having to go and collect them.

To read more about this news find it here in Bioware Delays Post-Launch Content To Prioritise Game Fixes.

Blizzcon 2019

BlizzCon 2019 will take place on November 1st to 2nd in Anaheim, hosting a range of tournaments for Blizzard games including the Overwatch World Cup.

Fingers crossed for a Diablo 4 or remastered version of Diablo 2 announcement after the whole mobile game fiasco of last year, fans will hopefully not see a repeat (even though we do have phones). However, they may announce the release date for Diablo Immortal.

We could also be seeing the first glimpse of the next expansion for World of Warcraft and the release date for Warcraft 3 Reforged, the remastered version of the original which was announced at the last BlizzCon.

Blizz goers will also be able to get their hands on some collectibles which will be included in the price of the ticket, celebrating 25 years of the original Warcraft game release. Choose either a footman or an orc grunt, alliance or horde.

Tickets will go on sale in two sessions, starting Saturday May 4th and then on Wednesday May 8th.

To read more about this news find it here in BlizzCon 2019 Dates Announced Along With Collectibles.

Well, that’s it for the Week in Wikis. Please join us next week for yet another great week of gaming! Remember to check out our VIP program for some exclusive supporter benefits, and budding writers should take advantage of our Become an Author initiative! Thanks again for being a part of this great community. Keep checking in with us for news, reviews, YouTube streams and vids, and general wiki goodness!

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The post Top RPG News Of The Week: April 28th (KH3, Persona 5 Royal, Bloodborne and More!) appeared first on Fextralife.

Top RPG News Of The Week: April 28th (KH3, Persona 5 Royal, Bloodborne and More!) published first on https://juanaframi.tumblr.com/

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itwasanangryinch · 6 years

Text

3...2...1... Happy New Year!!

For the first (?) time, I’m actually going to make and complete a New Years meme, because fuck it, I had a good year. I’m also going to put much shorter answers for last year since I had wanted to do this then, but then... didn’t.

Favourite new (to me) band: Against Me! 5 favourite songs:

The Ocean

White Crosses

True Trans Soul Rebel

I Was a Teenage Anarchist

Norse Truth

I’ve known about Against Me! since lead singer Laura Jane Grace since she came out as trans in 2012 with her Rolling Stone profile, but I hadn’t heard any of their songs until a couple of years ago. This year was the first year I really got into her music (both here and with The Devouring Mothers) after reading her biography Tranny while on vacation in Melbourne.

Runner up: Miss Guy and the Toilet Boys, seen for the first time at Wigstock 2.Ho

2017′s answer: Ataru Nakamura, the very, very talented trans performer who played Yitzhak to JCM’s Hedwig in Japan (and because of the staging, also played Hedwig for the non-singing part of the script.)

Favourite new (to me) city: Melbourne, Australia.

If you had asked me last year, my answer would have been Tokyo, Japan and this year’s is my favourite for much the same reasons: Melbourne is very easy to get around, very fun to walk around, and I got to see the wonderful John Cameron Mitchell perform there.

Melbourne is absolutely beautiful with so many shops to explore and a free (within the few square blocks I mostly kept to) public transport system.

Runner up: Sydney, Australia. Very similar to Melbourne and might have been the favourite if I had been able to stay there longer, but.... schedules.

2017′s answer: Toyko, Japan. For the reasons listed above. I could actually see myself moving to Tokyo at some point. Not right now, but possibly eventually.

Favourite concert: John Cameron Mitchell: The Origin of Love, Brisbane

This year I have seen this concert seven times in addition to one very abridged show in Portland, Oregon to go along with a double header of Hedwig and How to Talk to Girls at Parties.

On this particular date, the band gelled really well; John was in a great mood, great energy; the crowd was incredible..... Everything just... Worked. (Even tho this was the concert I had the least amount of interaction with John afterwards, lol.)

Definitely looking forward to seeing where John takes the performances for his upcoming stateside tour and at a later, yet to be announced, time in Japan.

Runner ups: (aside from the rest of the OoL tour), Rocky Horror with Mason Alexander Park, Taboo 15 (with Mason), Alice Cooper, and Wigstock 2.Ho where I finally got to see NPH performing as Hedwig.

2017′s answer: Hedwig and the Angry Inch: October 14th, evening. Tokyo, Japan.

In my estimation, this was the best of all of the Hedwig concerts. By this point, everyone had performed this in front of an audience twice before and the show from beginning to end gelled really well. Again, there was an incredible energy between the band and the two lead performers and the audiences for all of the Japan shows were great. From beginning to end, this one was the best.

From about the Tommy monologue til the end, the final Tokyo show (Oct. 15th) was the best because there was this crackling, alive, angry energy that had an almost dangerous feeling to Exquisite Corpse and was the only show (surprisingly!!) where I cried at the delivery of my favourite line “Then love the front of me.” On that show, with the exception of Exquisite Corpse, I cried from that line til John started the encore song, ‘The End of Love’ and I had only stopped there because I had completely forgotten he was doing an encore song.

Favourite movie: Black Panther

I’ve been waiting literal years for this movie to be made and there was not one thing to be disappointed in in its final rendering in my opinion. I realize that unlike a large portion of the audience, this movie was very much not reflective of my experiences and at no point would I claim to be represented by it as anything other than a nerd and a comic book fan.

Being a fan of the Black Panther for years has meant having tone deaf comic lines, sidelined animated stories, and much less content, merch, and even cartoon adaptation than some of his paler counterparts. So to see a film that was technically and narratively perfect being rendered so beautifully and taking the box office for many, many weeks was a wonderful way to start this year.

Runners up: Deadpool 2, Bad Samaratian, and does How to Talk to Girls at Parties even count for this year if I saw it last year in Japan??

2017′s answer: a strong tie between Transpotting 2 and HtTtGaP. T2 because it was so much better than I could have ever hoped it to be. It married themes and footage from the first film perfectly to the characters’ lives 20 years on. It gave me hope for an eventual Hedwig sequel in terms of quality because based on interviews, they share a similar tone in terms of ageing characters. Plus Danny Boyle’s cinematography was truly beautiful with the use of shadows, call-backs, foreshadowing.... A true equal to the most iconic of Scottish films.

HtTtGaP because well.... John Cameron Mitchell’s direction mixed with an alien invasion set against punk rock and the Queen’s jubilee? How could I not love it? To me, it’s a strong second to Hedwig in terms of quality and netted my absolute favourite review via the BBC (‘This is one of the worst films ever made’, trust me Beeb reviewer, if that were true, cinema would be a far more enjoyable art form.)

Favourite vacation: Australia

Long story short: I met my favourite actor five times. It’s very rare in this life that you can actually tell an artist who influenced your life in a very meaningful way just how much their art and they as a person mean to you. This year, after seeing JCM perform live eight times and on video, no lie, thousands of times, I had the chance to actually do this. And unlike how I was worried about for the past three years, I wasn’t actually nervous to talk to him at all. Part of that is that he is a very easy person to feel at ease with, very comforting presence.... And part of it was that during the first Australian show I went to where I’m dressed as the very first Squeezebox Hedwig, John lay on top of me as part of the final number. How could I be scared to talk to him after that introduction??

Runners up: going to see Taboo 15 in New York with my best friend and touring the David Bowie Is exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum (March), going to see Wigstock with Risa. Technically, I ditched work to be able to go, but.... 10/10, I would do it again. I saw a lot of amazing performers for the first time, had a chance to chat with Mason again, and saw the tour de force that is Neil Patrick Harris as Hedwig and Lena Hall as Yitzhak.

Hopefully next year, the Hedwig section will be able to be longer. (Or maybe Yitz will perform by himself. Or multiple Hedwigs. Or just the entire Hedwig script delivered at the end of a seven hour drag festival pre-show.)

2017′s answer: Hedwig in Japan. Not only did I get to meet my friend @miyacantdecide for the first time in person, I was able to see the wonder that is JCM as Hedwig live. Even when he’s not delivering the script, his presence as Hedwig is truly something else. And having seen him perform as himself (but in a version of her makeup) this year, I can honestly say that She has a completely different stage presence to Him and how incredible of an actor to be able to deliver such radically different interpretations of the same material and songs??

Outside of Hedwig, I can honestly say that I came back from Japan a changed person. Better in so many ways than I was a year previous. Almost completely made whole again after past traumas (and completed a year later on a different trip.)

2017′s runner up: seeing RENT 20 live. I had a blast hanging out with my mother most of the days and the RENT 20 cast? Holy shit. What talents. Cried from ‘I’ll Cover You (Reprise)’ til the end of ‘Finale B’. Just goes to show: it doesn’t matter if the show’s set in December and it’s hot As Fuck outside if you have a talented cast bundled up in sweaters for 75% of the script.

Favourite album: Golden by Kylie

Not only does pop’s most talented princess talk about her recent breakup with Joshua Sause (sp?), there’s themes of her ageing as this year our princess turned 50. While I agree with reviewers that this isn’t her best musically or vocally, I find myself replaying this one over and over on my stereo and headphones more than almost any other album this year. Favourite song: a toss up between Shelby ‘68 and Low Blow.

2017′s answer: Pollinator by Blondie. It had been two years since the release of 2014′s Ghost of Download, but unlike Ghost’s offerings that went largely unnoticed by me at the time, every single from Pollinator got me more and more hyped not only because of the excellent music evident on songs such as Fun, Long Time, and Doom or Destiny, but collaborations with artists such as Raja (on the video for Fun) and Joan Jett (the aforementioned Doom or Destiny), the honey-thick entrancing song Fragments, and the wonderful Love Line.

This year has been weirder, queerer, and more wonderful than any year yet on record. I’ve been to a number of technically-but-not-really drag shows, revisited some of my favourite artists in concert, met two of my favourite Hedwigs, and saw four total Heds perform.... I’ve read and learned more about the queer experience that not only deepened my understanding of my larger community, but of my own experiences and how they fit within the community. I’ve become more confident being out to coworkers and customers at my job....

I had the pleasure of meeting two of my close friends @hedwig-in-a-jukebox and @fdelopera in person (with plans to meet up again early-2019) as well as making some new friends.

Here’s to an even better 2019! Onwards and upwards.

#about me #new years meme #((let's see if I remember to complete this before it posts))#((cos I'm writing this when the year's not even 75% of the way done!))

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ladytrollfishes · 6 years

Text

Inktober 15th, Message

Cresce Aubade | 7 sweeps, 16 years | Arkady | 2453 words | cw: age gap

----

Little Stan's has an open mic night every weekend and they make an excellent spiced cider so you and Peggio always go.

You've come often enough that the barista recognizes you when you walk in.

"Hey, Cress!" she says, flashing you a smile and a little tinkle of pleasure. "You singing tonight?"

You laugh and toss your curls. "Not tonight," you say as you slide up to the counter to chat. "I can't sing every week! It'd take all the suspense out of it."

"Aww," she says, and leans conspiratorially over the counter. You oblige and lean over to meet her halfway. "Just so you know, you're the best regular that comes through here."

You cover your mouth and laugh, glancing back towards the small crowd of people that are already assembled by the stage, some of them tuning their guitars. "Well don't say it so loud!" you say. "We can't let them lose hope."

The barista throws her head back to laugh and you take the opening to glance at her name tag. Sephra. Cerulean. Just high enough that you can't affect her as well as the lowbloods. It's good to know that she still appreciates you musically, even without your voodoos.

"Well," she says. "I hear the last act for tonight is supposed to be some big surprise. Stick around till then, yeah?"

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow. Sephra plucks a melody that's down right mischievous. "What is it?"

You glance back at Peggio, who just looks confused and shrugs, but he sounds nearly giddy. Whatever it is, he's in on it too. Honestly, he should really know better than to keep things secret from you by now.

Sephra just puts a finger to her lips. "It's a secret!" she says, singsong.

"Oh come on, Sephra," you say. "Please?"

"Here's your cider," she says instead, and gives you a wink. You pout and pick up your mug.

"Don't worry about it so much," Peggio says, putting a hand on your back to steer you towards a seat near the stage. "All you have to do is wait to see what happens."

Little Stan's doesn't have much of a stage- It's little more than a raised step at one end of the lounge with just enough room for an upright piano, but it's a cozy setting for an intimate audience. It's furnished with wicker seats and quilted pillows thrown everywhere, with fairy lights strung around the ceiling for ambient lighting. There's maybe twenty people in the small room. People part for Peggio. Arkady's pretty highblooded but a seadweller is still worth getting out of the way for. He steers you to a bench with a quilt and bunch of cushions thrown onto it and you sit on a pile of cushions, to look at the stage and think.

Peggio's way too eager, and a little too nervous to be ignorant as to what this surprise is. You scan the audience and the performers- there's no one else here that he's close with. This last performance had to be Peggio. He's going to ask you to be his matesprit or just grace his unworthy self with a date or whatever. You'd be an idiot not to see his intentions. You've heard his desire, his jealousy, his possessiveness. You've noticed his sour notes of his petty spitefulness when you pull off a chord progression he can't quite manage, since he never practices, and he gets jealous when you go to practice the piano with Inneni, which he can't play. You've put up with it- he's the one who taught you guitar, you've got a soft spot for him- but you're not letting him claim any more of you than he's already had. You don't care if he's an adult seadweller now, if he thinks he can embarrass you into accepting a public proposal, you'll rip him a new one.

It's hard to pay attention to the performers now that you know what's coming. You cross your arms and knees and your foot bounces as you watch impatiently. There's a couple of singers, some spoken word and poetry, and one very enterprising and desperate mime, and as try as you might to relax and just enjoy it, most of the performances tonight aren't even very good.

Peggio puts an arm around your shoulder, anticipatory and you lean back into him to listen to what he has to say.

“Not exactly the best performances we’ve seen, eh?” he says and you roll your eyes.

“Definitely,” you say.

“I wonder what the big secret at the end is,” he lies. “I hope it’s good.” He’s an excellent liar- he’s Torrent, he should be, but at this range, his excitement just blares like a trumpet. You wonder again if he thinks you’re an idiot. He knows you can hear him.

Peggio excuses himself to go to the bathroom at the beginning of the second to last performance and you rearrange yourself on the cushions and roll your eyes. Wow, subtle.

You sit, agitated, through the final performance, a spoken word piece about Arkady’s frost reflecting the frost of their spurned love by a long faced blueblood, which maybe Peggio should take a few cues from.

“And finally,” the MC says. “We have the final act of the night. A wonderful ode to a wonderful lady; Peggio!”

When he walks back in, he’s in a proper suit, with an indigo rose pinned to his lapels. He must have stowed his guitar in the back with the employees before you came because he’s holding it now.

“Good evening,” he says nodding around the room. “Today I have a song I wrote for a wonderful girl I know.”

He looks across the room and meets your eyes and nods. You can see people pulling out their phones to film this fiasco. Sephra steps around out of the bar with her phone out.

“Cress, this is for you.”

When he strums and starts walking across the room towards you, you know those chords. You absolutely know those chords. You wrote that refrain for a collab he wanted to do three perigees ago, when he wanted to write lyrics.

Now he was using it for this? Your face flushes bright indigo, but not from embarrassment as he opens up his mouth and sings.

“There’s a winter’s kiss in your eyes, but I just wanna hold you close.” He steps through the crowd, as people scramble to pull their legs out of the way. “There’s a frost bite to your lips, but they’re the things I want the most~”

You sink your face into your hands. Okay, now you’re embarrassed. You don’t look up until he kneels at your feet and moves into the bridge.

“I wanna touch you, I wanna hold you tight.” He smiles wide as you peek out from behind your hands. You’re going to kill him. You can hear how pleased he is. “You’re the morning frost and what a delicate sight!”

“Ooooh,” he warbles, “I just wanna hold you, hold you tight. The cold may bite, but the warmth of our touch is the light of my lifeee~”

He strums a few times then gets to his feet and gestures for you to head to the stage and you shake your head. He’s going to insist, and you’ll do it then, but only because it’s going to look better for you and worse for him in the aftermath. You’re right, he replays the few chords and bobbles up and down in an awkward parody of a dance.

“Come on, Cress,” he whispers.

“Peggio!” you exclaim.

“It’s not that bad, come on!”

You stand then, and step onto the stage so Peggio can finish his refrain to you, with your hands still covering your face.

“Your absence from my side is never gonna feel alright,” Peggio says. “I can’t just reminisce

Won’t you be my winter’s kiss~”

He leans behind the piano and pulls out a bouquet of the same indigo roses that he’s got pinned to his lapel, and he somehow manages to still sound hopeful as he holds out the bouquet towards.

“What do you say, Cress?” he asks. “Make it official? Be my matesprit?”

The room bursts into applause. You wait a beat for the noise to fade, then shake your head.

“Peggio, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I can’t.”

You haven’t broken his heart just yet- you hear a flare of jealousy.

“Is there someone else?” he says, “Is it Inneni?”

“No, no,” you say. “I just… never saw you like that. I’ve known you since I was a kid, but you look exactly the same. You were always more- more like a lusus figure.”

The audience breaks into an outroar- you hear shock, delight, the sour twang of schaudenfreude, an orchestra only you can hear. And that’s when you hear Peggio’s heart break, loud, disbelief, hurt, horror, and you press a hand to your mouth again, this time to hide the little vengeful smile that crawls onto your lips

“I’m so, so sorry, Peggio,” you say, and at least you still sound genuine. “I never meant to hurt you.”

The bouquet of indigo roses drops to the floor.

“B-but all the gifts and flowers,” he stammers. “I got you so much stuff. What about those earrings.”

He gestures to them now- you’re wearing his seventh wriggling day present, a pair of beautiful drop pendant earrings. Sapphire. Close to your hue, but not quite.

Your hands fly to your ears and you start to take them off.

“These?” you ask surprised. “Oh, Peggio, if I had known these were anything but a wriggling day present, I wouldn’t have taken it.” That’s a lie too, but that’s also something you’re better at than him. You hold them out to him.

“Oh, and that’s actually my song,” you say. “I’ll just take that back too.”

You actually see tears well up in his eyes as he snatches the earrings out of your hands and runs out the door. You cringe. He took that hard.

You turn to the crowd and give them a little wave.

“Hi, guys,” you say. “Sorry about that! It’s downer note on such a great evening, but there’s just no way to turn down a public proposal without it being awkward.” You tuck a curl of hair back behind your ear. “I know I said I wouldn’t perform tonight, but maybe I could do a song to make up for it?”

You lean forward to see if the MC approves, and they light up.

“Well!” they say. “I wouldn’t say no to that, would you guys?”

There’s a smattering of applause, as the audience holds their judgement until after you perform. You borrow a guitar and pick one of your older songs, and by the time you’re done, the audience is buzzing with pleasure. You smile, take your bows and applause and step off the stage.

“Woof,” you say, adjusting your coat as you turn to leave, approaching the bar again. Sephra looks sheepish and hands you another cider.

“It’s on the house,” she says. “Sorry, I didn’t know things were like that or I would have told you. You two always seemed so close!”

You sigh.

“It hurts, you know?” you say. “I had no idea he felt like that about me. And he taught me to play my first guitar. But this way he got the message.”

“Oof,” she says. “That’s rough.”

“Maybe we can still be friends,” you say. “But I kinda doubt it. Hey, can you send me the video you took of Peggio’s performance?”

“Why do you want it?” she asks, taking her phone out.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that it was my song,” you say. “He put words to it but I never heard them till tonight so I’d like that, at least.”

“Well sure,” she says. “Give me your email.”

---

-- melodisingDiscourse [MD] began pestering islandMisslieness [IM]! --

MD: |𝄞 soooo well that was awkward. |

MD: |𝄞 you want to tell me what you were thinking? |

IM: fuck off I don’t want to talk to you.

IM: you know I was feelIng flushed, that’s your whole thIng.

IM: why the fuck dId you do that.

IM: you made me look like a fool.

MD: |𝄞 you really didn’t need the help tbh!! |

MD: |𝄞 i gave you those chords perigees ago and you use it for this? |

MD: |𝄞 and your lyrics weren’t even good. it sounded like a first draft. |

MD: |𝄞 and it’s not like you told me about making a public spectacle of your feelings either so i could tell you it was a bad idea. |

MD: |𝄞 i knew you were flushed, i didn’t think it’d get to that point. |

MD: |𝄞 i tolerated it because you were my friend. |

IM: but lIke a lusus? you had to say that In front of everyone?

MD: |𝄞 how else am i supposed to see you, Peggio? |

MD: |𝄞 you watched me grow up. |

IM: you won’t even own up to It, IncredIble.

IM: you’ve never cared about anythIng but your own musIc and what you want.

IM: you’re just selfIsh.

MD: |𝄞 oh and just in case you feel like throwing this in my face some day? |

MD: |𝄞 i have the video of what happened tonight. |

MD: |𝄞 i don’t think you want me to post it on Trollbook. |

IM: serIously??

IM: now you’re blackmaIlIng me?

IM: bItch.

MD: |𝄞 should have figured that one out before you proposed. |

-- islandMisslieness [IM] has blocked melodisingDiscourse [MD]! --

The computer beeps ominously as Peggio’s blocked message appears on your screen and you take a breath and sigh. You knew this was going to happen someday, but you don’t like the way it went down. It wasn’t like you didn’t care about him, but everyone knew he was a deadbeat and you’re not hooking yourself to that. Not to mention, if you had to listen to his whining jealousy every time you did something cool, you’d jump out a window.

Plus, if you had been gentler in turning him down, he could have pressed the issue or thrown the weight of his blood color around. You’ve had so many lessons on power balances and the many ways that breaking a relationship could go, bad and good, and from what you can see, this was the best way for you. A clean break and he was out, forever.

It still doesn’t feel great, to lose him though. You brush away a few tears and set to work on your song.

A week later, you upload Winter’s Kiss to your soundgrub and grin as the likes start pouring in.

#cresce drabbles #no actual relationships were created in the writing of this drabble #also for the record: Peggio's 25 and cress is 16 #dont feel bad for him #he deserved it p much

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