#I JUST FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS FROM NEARLY A MONTH AGO HELLO

[insecateur]

people refusing to draw ganondorf bottoming are going to make me break my streak of pokémon porn soon

[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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[caker-baker]

The Fall Guy

Ah, hell. Maybe the hero didn’t think this through. This was more of a myth than anything, if myth was the right word.

Or maybe it was just a pizza place and the hero was overthinking things.

Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Uh, hi.” The hero greeted the lanky cashier. “Can I get the hero’s special? I’m willing to pay extra.”

The cashier regarded this with a blink, then another, then finally, to finish off his grand display of emotion, he sighed.

“With or without the ‘save the day’ toppings?”

The hero scrambled to remember what to say. “With, please.”

Now with mild interest, the cashier leaned over. “Down that way, second door on your left.”

“Thank you.” The hero said with narrowed eyes.

Holy hell, that whole interaction felt like a strange dream that was a little too realistic. And that cashier was a bit too intrigued.

Jesus, their heart was beating in their ears at this point.

It could all be a lie, all of it, this could all be an intricate and carefully crafted lie told by a villain, made to lure in unsuspecting heroes to their deaths.

Too late now, their hand was already turning the handle.

Where the hero was expecting some small room that fit logistically with the rest of the joint, there were stairs.

No, they didn’t like this at all. But what was the choice, go down there, or go back outside?

Downstairs it was.

Surprisingly, it got lighter, and larger, a hard contrast to the ominous setting. And with the light came music. Something very upbeat, lots of drums and guitars, and loud.

With their final step, the hero was able to see the cause of the music, two large speakers attached to a phone.

They also got to see the apparent villain, sitting and humming along to the beat.

“Hello?”

The villain, who’s head snapped up, reached to turn down the music before turning around.

If the hero was unsure before, they definitely were unsure now. They couldn’t help being nervous as an oil stained face looked them up and down.

“I know you.” The villain finally said.

“You do?”

The villain hummed in thought. “You were the one involved in the bridge incident two weeks ago, yeah?”

A strange bout of pain overcame the hero.

“Yeah, that was me.”

“Well, no need to look all guilty about it.” The villain stood from their stool, still shielding whatever caused the oil on their face. “Everyone screws up. Is that why you want to leave?”

“No! I’m not running away from that, I’m running away from-”

“You’re getting away from the heroing part. I get it.” The villain reached behind them, grabbing measuring tape. “Mind if I get your measurements?”

“What for?”

“The decoy. Did whoever told you about this not tell you about how it works?” The villain spoke while they untangled the tape.

“No. I didn’t even know if this was real. I thought the cashier was just annoyed by me.”

“Yeah, Paul, he’s just judgy.” The villain stepped closer. “Step on this.”

The hero put a foot on one end of the measuring tape while the villain pulled the rest of it up to the top of the hero’s head.

“Thanks.”

The villain seemed fine in silence, the hero, however, felt like their whole being was vibrating with questions.

When the villain moved away, the hero felt themself breathe out heavily.

“You alright there?” The villain asked, turning away to write something down. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

The hero chuckled awkwardly. “It wouldn’t be very heroic if I was, would it?”

Turning around again, the villain spoke. “Well, considering you won’t be a hero much longer, I won’t hold it against you.”

It all seemed to fall out of the hero at once, words carefully hidden away now in full sight.

“I didn’t even want to be a hero, then one day I was drafted. I don’t know how they found out what I could do, I never registered. All I wanted was to keep my head down, but suddenly I was out with the big leagues.”

Several creases had formed on the hero’s head.

“And then the tracking, oh, God, the tracking. I went out for fast food once without telling anyone, just for a moment of peace, and it was like the world imploded.”

The villain rested their chin in their hand, nodding emphatically every once in a while.

“You know there’s three days of training before they shove you into the world. They don’t care what you run into, as long as you defeat it. ‘Real heroes don’t run’ type bullshit. Ironically, that’s the most freedom we get, going up against something or someone three times our sizes.”

The villain turned their head to the side.

“And there’s a seminar on meeting foreign dignitaries! Meetings on how to address the general public, correct customs for different world leaders. Jesus, I don’t even get a choice on where I stay! I could be shipped off to Japan tomorrow.”

The hero stopped, their eyes glazing over with a strange numbness.

“Then I messed up, put on house arrest. God, that’s the happiest I’ve been in a while. Of course, I did have to beg to go and get ‘pizza’, even after the house arrest. That was the only downside, I guess.”

A beat.

“Are you finished?” The villain asked.

A brilliant scarlet color bloomed across the hero’s face. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

The villain waved them off. “Happens to nearly every one of my customers, sometimes the best therapy is just venting to the fall guy.”

“Fall guy?” The hero echoed, eyebrows furrowing.

That made the villain pause. “Yes? If this was all found out, who do you think would take the fall? Paul?” They laughed.

“Are you never, I don’t know, worried about being caught?”

The villain shrugged half heartedly. “Well, last time it happened, I just packed it up and moved. This time I had to make it pizza. Used to be donuts.” Their lips pursed. “I miss the donuts.”

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it again, trying to figure something out.

“What if-” Those weren’t quite the right words. “What happens if one of your, ah, customers gets loose lips, talks to the wrong person?”

“That, my dear hero, is a matter of trust. And it helps I am financially gifted, powerful. It’s a matter of who would last longer, and it will always be me.”

“I see.”

The villain leaned against their work table. “Hey, do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Can you portal something?”

The hero blinked, not expecting that. “Depends on what and how far.”

“Yourself, to a rendezvous point, say, oh, twenty six miles from here.”

The villain was grinning, waiting patiently for the hero to realize their plan.

“You use the heroes who come here, their powers to help them.” They concluded.

“While my decoys certainly do last quite a while, it’s not forever, and heroes often don’t realize the assets they have available. Speaking of, how come you haven’t tried it?”

The hero swallowed. “Portalling a living person is complicated.”

At that, the villain motioned with their hand, urging the hero to tell them what they weren’t saying.

“And,” the hero began. “my portals don’t like technology. The tracker in me could malfunction, electrocuting me before I get all the way through.”

“How did you learn that?” The villain asked, turning to scribble something down.

“The bridge incident was my first mistake as a hero, not a person.”

The villain let out a laugh. “Seems you’re just as morally gray as me.”

“It’s why I can’t be a hero.”

The villain smirked at the self righteousness of the hero, who probably didn’t even realize they were being self righteous.

“And the tracker,” the villain switched subjects. “standard GIM-14U?”

Wait, something wasn’t adding up here. There was something too certain, too familiar about the way it rolled off the villain’s tongue.

“How’d you know?”

The villain tensed, as if they hadn’t expected anyone to pick up in their certainty.

“My clientele often times have the same one.”

“And?” The hero prodded.

They could hear the villain mumble a curse under their breath.

“I used to have one. First prototype, in fact.”

Something else didn’t add up. The first GIM-14U came out several years ago, when the hero was a kid. The villain was barely older than the hero, maybe the same age. Why did the villain have one when it just came out?

It took a moment too long to realize. “You were the child prodigy, the one who vanished.”

The villain did a mock bow, their muscles relaxing slightly. “In the flesh, although technically, I’m M.I.A.”

“Oh, God. Now you-now you get other heroes out.” The hero almost laughed. “That’s genius, it’s the perfect payback, it’s-”

“What makes you think it’s payback? Maybe I just like helping people.” The villain had a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, oh, gosh. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

The villain held up a hand. “It’s a little bit payback.”

A familiar shade of scarlet crept across the hero’s face, and the former prodigy decided they liked that.

“Now this part is the part most of my customers don’t like - waiting. Your decoy will most likely only take two months. In that time, you need to work on your portalling.” The villain made sure to hold the hero in their gaze. “I will contact you when and where to meet and set up the decoy. I already have your information.”

“How do you-”

“Door frame. Like a metal detector, but more precise. If you are registered on any system anywhere, I’ll know you.”

The hero had relief coming off them in waves. Two months, and all they had to do was practice some portals. And do some heroing, but they could manage.

“You know, you interrupt people a lot.” The tone was joking, and the hero was far too busy trying to contain a smile, there was no time for chiding.

“So I’ve been told.” The villain did smile. “Now, about my payment.”

“Right.” For a second, the hero fumbled around in their pockets, before pulling out a wad of cash.

The villain took it, and began counting the bills, their eyes getting wider.

“‘I’m willing to pay extra’ is just part of the code. You know that, don’t you?”

The hero shrugged. “Do you not want it?”

In the blink of an eye, the money was pocketed by the villain. “I didn’t say that. Pleasure doing business with you.”

The hero nodded, and turned on their heel, then stopped suddenly to ask one final question.

“If you know everyone from the door frame, why bother with the measuring ordeal?”

“Gets people to open up, relax a bit.”

Oh. That was sweet.

“You aren’t a bad person, are you?” Asked the hero.

“Hey now, don’t go telling everybody. My scary reputation could be ruined.”

The hero, a ghost of a smile on their lips, left, back up the stairs, through the pizza place.

Two months.

[softluci]

hello yes can i just say i l o v e d your gen z hcs and may i acquire more

for starters, i am not religious, but i am PRAYING you don’t think i was ignoring your ask. i’ve been thinking about it since i got it, it’s just that i’m a college student with worms for brains, so hopefully you understand. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time [i’ve been at this on and off for months], and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z. 

for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar? 

that should be enough of a summary, right? ah—for future reference, “o7” is like a saluting emote, for anyone who might not know. reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the lore, and then the actual headcanons will be right here]

trendy 

the two things most corrosive to the human spirit are easily named—capitalism and boredom. while it would be easier and less taxing to explain the former, the latter was the problem at hand. it’s not that there was nothing to do in the devildom—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that you wanted some time to yourself every now and again. the trouble with trying to take time for yourself in a completely new location, the residents of which are always enamored with you in one way or another, is that there isn’t anything to do. the house was full of adventures for you to take—the trap door under the rug in the library, the other trap door under the dining room table, the small door behind the couch in the living room, and whatever other poorly hidden doors your seven roommates thought you didn’t know about. 

trouble was, you didn’t want to leave your room. you, intelligent creature that you are, knew that the chances of you running into mammon or satan or beel or asmo were all too high, and even higher were the chances of you agreeing to spend time with them if they asked, and you knew they would. what were you to do? 

you stared at your ceiling from your bed, d.d.d. resting on your stomach as you let your mind wander. your d.d.d. was full of things for you to do, the devildom’s ethernet at your fingertips, but you weren’t interested in finding new things right now. you wanted something familiar, like—like your phone. 

what was the point of lucifer taking your phone, anyway? it’s not like you could use it—being here rendered it a useless brick of glass and metal, so it wouldn’t have been a big deal if you still had it. it was funny, though, that you couldn’t use your actual phone when it was still possible to access the human internet from down here. 

at least, you assumed so. 

how else would levi be able to keep up with his human idols, get tickets for their shows—the works, you know? luckily, you were fully capable of asking. 

d.d.d. now in your hand, you rolled onto your stomach and found your messages with levi, nails clacking against the glass as you tried to reach him.

hey, you texted, can you help me with something?

his reply came faster than you expected: ?? what do you need 

how do i access human websites and apps, you asked, rolling onto your side. you know how to, right?

lololol, it’s not possible :p

a grunt, more aggravated than you’d care to admit, escaped from the back of your throat.

don’t lie. 

a few minutes passed with no response, and you wondered if you were too harsh. 

“he’s a sensitive guy,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply. “i probably came on too strong or something.” 

just as you started typing out an apology and a, “forget i ever said anything,” you got a response. 

a vpn and a proxy site. 

a smile crept onto your face as air came out of your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could muster. 

can you set it up for me? 

after another few minutes of no response, you sit up, wondering how you could’ve possibly fucked up a second time, your d.d.d. buzzed. 

levi sent you a file and a link, with a host of instructions. 

click on the file and it’ll take you to the vpn you need to download. don’t worry about bugs or anything, i made it myself. 

you let out a low whistle, flopping onto your back once more. 

“this guy gets up to more than i thought,” you said, eyebrows raised. “someone get this man some physical affection.” 

you continued to read, growing more fond of him with each sentence.

once you install it, pick the country whose network you want access to. from there, you’ll have a list of that country’s most used applications available for you. again, don’t worry about bugs. 

what’s the link for? you asked, excitement getting the better of you. 

for when you download internet applications. it’s added security, paste the link in before you search anything or you’ll trigger the firewall alarm. 

you blinked. 

you’ll trigger the what? 

i’ll trigger the fucking What? 

levi’s response was the fastest one yet: the Fucking Firewall Alarm. barbatos’ design. he has no idea i know how to bypass it. just do what i said. don’t try to solve any potential issues on your own, come to me for everything.

roger that o7, you replied, thanks levi ^_^

yeah, yeah. come to my room for a hxh binge tomorrow night.

you snorted. what a fucking nerd—in the greatest way possible. 

of course bestie :] ily

ily2 normie -_- 

in his room, unbeknownst to you, levi felt like he made a mistake of some kind. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, it’s just that you had a tendency to end up in undesirable situations, even if it wasn’t always on purpose. he was probably just worried over nothing, or so he tried to tell himself, but whatever. this isn’t even about him.

you sat up once more, this time leaning against your pillows as you started setting everything up. everything went so quickly that you barely wondered if all of this—subverting hell’s firewall, personally designed by a man eerily similar to a 2D crush from when you were in middle school—was worth accessing a few silly apps from the human world. 

a few minutes later, your d.d.d. now a much, much cooler copy of your phone, any and all thoughts of regret and hesitation were absent from your mind. 

your first order of business on your upgraded d.d.d. was logging into your tiktok account, however surprising it was that you even remembered the password. you put your headphones in and adjusted your volume, going back into the dumpster fire that is your for-you page with open arms. 

after around half an hour of stifled laughter and small, offended gasps from being targeted by the algorithm, you came across a rare dancing video. the person on your screen was in casual clothes, making minor, silly dance movements as the music dwindled, only for them to drop into a squat in time with the music, suddenly dolled up. you shot forward, taken aback by their transformation and by their dancing post beat drop. did you watch it on a loop for a few minutes? well, that’s nobody’s business but yours. you clicked on the sound in hopes of finding similar videos, and much to your relief, there were plenty. about ten videos in, a smile still on your face, you got an idea. 

you slipped your headphones out, arbitrarily looking around your room, before whispering to yourself, “i could—i could do that. i could totally do that.” 

and you were right. you had nice clothes and makeup from various shopping occasions with asmo. your room had led strips, courtesy of levi ordering the wrong ones and being so kind as to give them to you. you could do it. 

levi was the only person you’d spoken to since you retreated to your room a few hours ago, and the lights have been off the entire time, which meant that if you worked quietly enough, everyone else had reason enough to assume you were asleep. good! how could you possibly explain what you were doing getting all dolled up at, like, 11:00 on a wednesday night? you couldn’t, even a little bit—not in a way that convinced anyone, anyway. 

come midnight, you were sitting cross legged on your bed, watching your final product. not to be vain or anything, but you were looking very respectfully at yourself. since when could you move like that, anyway? the wonders of being alone, you supposed. 

you didn’t post it publicly, electing to save it as a draft just so it would save to your d.d.d. maybe you’d post it once you were back in the human world, when your friends wouldn’t swarm your comments asking where the fuck you were. 

yeah, lucifer told you, “everything was taken care of,” but regardless of whether or not you believed him, you knew it wasn’t a good idea to risk finding out if he missed something. 

boredom creeping up on you again, you elected to go through the messages on your d.d.d. it would be better to make yourself laugh before you were fully bored again, right? you stood up and stretched, opening the group text with the adults. luke doesn’t know about it; he thinks the one with everyone is the main one, and everyone lets him think that so he feels included. 

walking around your room in small circles, you scrolled up to the older conversations and read through them, rolling your eyes and chuckling to yourself. very rarely did they talk about anything of importance. it was mostly diavolo, barbatos, and simeon making quips and jokes at lucifer’s expense for everyone to see. it was gold in its purest form. 

you contemplated sending one of the many cursed things sitting in your camera roll, just to keep them on their toes, but just after opening your gallery, you resigned not to, figuring it would be best to leave him alone. 

you stretched again, the hold on your d.d.d. a bit looser this time. it nearly slipped out of your hands, but you caught it, tossing it onto your bed. as soon as you resigned to start getting ready for bed, you turned back around and picked it up. 

there was no rhyme or reason to your actions; if someone in that moment were to ask you why you did it, you would’ve said, “just ‘cause.”

human intuition is a wonderful thing.

your d.d.d. was still on, still open to the group chat. you’d sent something, evidently a second ago, as indicated by the time stamp. the thumbnail was of you, in casual clothing—the casual clothing you were wearing before you got dolled up, actually. huh. 

huh. 

the weight of your mistake came crashing down on you in full force, a chill sinking into your skin and running up your spine.

you were suddenly acutely aware of the concept of time, how it was of the essence and you had absolutely none to waste.

what were you to do? it wouldn’t be long before your favorite person saw it. you had to do something. 

you could say nothing. you could tell the truth and say it was an accident and that you were embarrassed, but that was even worse than saying nothing because it meant you were set to be the target of teasing you didn’t even wanna try to imagine. you could say it was an accident and be confident about it, telling them, “enjoy!” but that was a dangerous game to play, and you knew it. 

well, i do admire you for taking time to think, but, unfortunately, there was a checkmark next to your message. oh, a number as well—eleven. you just can’t catch a break. what were they all doing up at this time, anyway? it was a school night🤨. 

[streetlight11]

Birthday Gift

Summary: If you told your younger self 4 years ago that you would be in a happy, long distance relationship with someone who lives miles away from you up till today, your younger self would have laughed at you. But here you are, 4 years later, happy and totally in love with the boy you met online after he randomly followed you on social media. But you've never once met him in person. On your 24th birthday, you were getting a birthday gift that you never thought you would receive so soon.

Theme: long distance relationship au, strangers to lovers

Genre: super fluffy

WC: 2k

Pairing: Bae Jacob x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This has been in my drafts for quite a bit so here it is. This fic is too too fluffy, even for me who wrote this. Cobie is such a sweetheart, I can't-... Anyways, I hope you like this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult as it needs to have a huge amount of trust, understanding, discipline and a lot of reassurance. However, despite all the fights you may have due to miscommunications and most of the time just lack of physical affection, you still cherish and love your boyfriend very much. You met your boyfriend online as he added you on social media a few years back. You clicked on his profile only to see that he lived in South Korea.

He looks to be a professional dancer and also a full time student in one of the colleges there. Not to mention, super good looking too. However, you weren’t really expecting anything at that point of time only because you don’t really believe in long distance relationships. You’ve always thought it might be hard and that it will never last.

So you just accepted his request and followed him back. The next day, you were in class when you got a DM from someone. And since you rarely got a DM from any guys, you were surprised to see his username pop up.

You clicked the message after about 10 minutes or so to see what he texted you, thinking he was just another weirdo who wants to scam you.

His message said;

“Hello! I saw your account and I really love your content. I’m sorry if this is too weird. I understand if you don’t wish to reply.”

With that, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you didn’t know why but you began to type your reply, “Haha thank you! That’s so nice of you to say that.” You hit the send button and a few minutes later, he replied. That’s when you began to chat with him for quite a while before he asked.

“I’m so sorry, where have my manners gone? I’m Bae Joon Young but you can just call me Jacob. And you are?”

You replied to him with a smile as your fingers tapped against your smartphone, “I’m Y/F/N but you can call me Y/N.”

Ever since then, you have been chatting with him over DMs for quite a while, just to see if you can sort of trust and be comfortable with him or not. It took you almost 5 months to finally add him in your kakao talk.

Both of you have already done both voice and video call which means you already knew how each other looked and you seemed to have grown your trust in him. Jacob seemed like a genuine guy as you found out that he was your age internationally. Months became years and both of you have already introduced your partners to your parents.

However, at first, your parents weren’t too sure about this whole long distance relationship thing. But they didn’t want to disappoint you so instead of asking you to break up and find a local guy, they let you carry on with this relationship if you believe that it would work. Surprisingly, it took your parents less than a month to get warm with Jacob as they finally got comfortable every time he video calls you.

It has been 4 years since you two agreed to pursue this long distance relationship as it marks your 4th anniversary today. You were just lounging in your room when Jacob decided to skype call you through his desktop.

You accepted the call as he smiled adorably into the camera and waved to you, making you giggle as you waved back. “Happy anniversary baby.” Jacob said.

“Happy anniversary my love. Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in my dorm. Younghoon’s out with our friends.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” You pout.

“I wanted to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to, you could have called me after.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked sadly.

“Of course I do. It’s just… I feel like I might be the reason why you may not hang out with your friends as often as you do.”

“Baby, listen to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend, dang am I lucky to have you reply to my message 4 years ago. I never thought that we could actually last this long but hey, look at us now.” You smiled as you looked down at your hands, only to look back up and see him pout.

“I love you so much, you know that right? And I can never ask for someone to replace you.” He said, making you sigh.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked softly, making him chuckle.

“How I wish I could enter my computer screen and just hug you and kiss you.” He whispered, making you smile sadly, knowing that could never happen, or at least it wouldn’t happen any time soon. You continue talking to him until you fall asleep, making him chuckle softly at your figure. Looking at you through his monitor screen endearingly.

“Goodnight my sweetheart.” He said those last words softly before he ended the call.

Days slowly became weeks and it was the same routine again and again but neither of you were getting bored or tired from it. He would always reassure you that he still loves you and that he would never hurt your feelings in any possible way. It was your birthday that day and your parents had booked a restaurant for you to celebrate and have your birthday dinner with your family, like how it has always been for the past few years.

It would be you, both your parents, your elder sister and her husband along with your 5 years old niece.

You chose to wear a white floral blouse with a pair of denim jeans as you paired it with your heeled sandals. You were in the car with your parents, on your way to the restaurant when Jacob voice called you.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hi Love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to a restaurant with my family for my birthday dinner. What about you?”

“Oh wow. Where to, this time? I’m just out with the boys.”

“I honestly don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” You laughed as your mother then smiled and spoke up from the front passenger seat.

“Hello dear. How are you sweetie?”

With that, you scooted to the centre of the back seat and put your call on speaker mode. Just then, you heard Jacob respond. “Hello Ma’am, I’m doing well. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you.” Jacob said, making you smile sadly as your parents let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay son, one of these days, you’ll get to meet our daughter and us.” Your dad said as you could already hear a smile etching on Jacob’s lips.

“Yes sir. I hope so.” Your boyfriend said before you giggled as you turned the speaker mode back off before bringing your phone to your ears. “Hmm, babe I think we’re here. I’ll call you again after dinner okay?” You said into the line.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too…” You paused for a moment as he waited for you to continue.

“I miss you Jacob.” You couldn’t help but whisper as a tear rolled down your cheek, making him frown.

“Baby please don’t cry. Promise me you won’t cry.” He said, making you nod as you sniffled your cries.

“I’ll try.” You said as you then bid him goodbye before ending the call.

Your sister had already arrived as you and your parents went to the front entrance where a waiter was waiting. Your dad told him that they’ve already made a reservation under your dad’s name as the waiter checked his list and soon smiled at the three of you. “Right this way.” The waiter said as he soon guided you towards the back of the restaurant where there were private rooms with opaque curtains to block the view of those sitting inside.

You were walking last as you texted your boyfriend in the process.

Once you were at the booth, your dad asked you to enter first, in which you got confused but nonetheless did as you were told. However, the minute you pushed the curtains open, your eyes immediately landed on the one person sitting at the very end of the table nearest to the entrance.

You felt your whole body freeze as you couldn’t find the right words. He was there, right in front of you, in one piece. It was him. It was your boyfriend. He was really there physically. You couldn’t believe this.

“Wha- I- When… Omg… Omg…” You whispered as everyone laughed, only for Jacob to chuckle as he got up, making you feel so flustered.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He said, as he walked up to you but you were still frozen in shock.

“Surprise!” Your family said in unison happily.

You locked eyes with Jacob as he engulfed you in a hug. That’s when you began to bawl your eyes out against his shoulder as you could finally feel his arms around your body, holding you tight as though he was afraid of losing you. Jacob laughed softly as he let you cry into his shoulder, while he gently rubs soothing circles in your back to calm you down.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist securely, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. “Shh, don’t cry baby. Don’t cry.” He whispered in your ear, only for you to cry harder. He laughed even more as your mother and sister were already tearing up at the side.

You pull away from him as he gently wipes your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here… You’re actually here…” You whispered, your breath shaky as he nodded, cupping your face softly in his hands. “Yes love. I’m here. I’m really here.” Jacob said, making you pout. Still unable to believe this was real.

Jacob smiled widely as he pulled you into a hug again, only for you to bury your face in his chest, feeling him draw lazy patterns into your waist. After nearly 30 minutes of you holding onto him and being in your own little bubble, the 7 of you finally settled down to celebrate your birthday dinner. After dinner was over, your parents offered Jacob to stay over at your family home for the next two weeks that he is staying here in your country before he flies back to Korea.

Jacob thanked your parents for letting him stay over as you couldn’t stop holding his hand. The way his hands fit in yours so perfectly as he showered you with so much love and warmth, just like how he did through all the video calls and texts.

That night when everyone had gone home, your parents knew that you probably wanted to spend time with him so they let him sleep in your room.

After both of you had already changed and were getting ready for bed, he pulled you onto his side as you rested your head on his chest. Jacob hugs you close as you tighten your grasp on his shirt. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he glanced down a little.

“I’m just so happy you’re here. I still need time to process this information.” You confessed.

Jacob chuckled softly as he whispered, “I’m really happy to be able to finally see you in person. This means so much to me.”

“Me too.”

Just then, the room fell quiet as you just looked into each other’s eyes, seeing the sparkles coating both your pupils as he gently caressed your cheek. Right at that moment, Jacob seemed to read your mind as he gently pulled you up a little. Without much words, Jacob decides to ask the one question that both of you had in mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

With that, you smiled shyly as you nodded. Jacob smiles in victory as he leans down softly to finally feel your soft lips on his and it has never felt so magical. Both of you took in this new feeling as he kissed you sweetly.

You spent the next two weeks with him, just making the most of your time. A month after he went back to Korea, it was your turn to give him a surprise visit as you managed to book a flight to Korea, asking for Jacob’s help to fetch you at the airport and bring you over to his apartment.

You stayed with Jacob for two days before surprising Jacob for his birthday party. Jacob did such a good job at taking care of you and making sure that you weren’t lost in Korea.

Despite the long distance, it definitely made you two grow stronger and gain even more trust in one another. It was a blessing in disguise that you accepted his request 4 years ago.

And you regretted none of it.

~~~

[abluescarfonwaston]

Letters to you

Hello this is written as payback for Spielzeugkaiser hurting me with her very good art of Jaskier getting drafted into the war. Love you Spiel. Hope it hurts.

The draft comes for every able bodied adult man who can bleed.

Their are days when the injury Geralt sustained years ago flares like a dying star. When he cannot walk the distance from the house to the tractor or the barn. When the vibrations of its engine cause him so much pain he weeps.

For all the days he has cursed that injury, for all the days Geralt has lashed out at him and driven him away with his pain, for all the times it nearly broke them he has never been more grateful for it then right now. Than in the moment he opened the mailbox and found it there. It’s contents written in blood.

Whose blood, he didn’t know. But probably his.

There was also the fact Geralt is a farmer. A farmer with, arguably, although not in truth, no relatives that could watch his daughter.

The war needs blood. But it also needs food.

It is this combination of things that he knows will save him. Save Geralt.

The same is not true of him.

“I think it shall be great fun. A chance to get out this little backwater and play in all the greatest cities in the world! Playing amongst the best of them for an ever changing roster of people. Think of all the friends I shall make! The visions I shall see! The music I will write.”

He clutches the dishcloth to his chest, making sure to include his grand sweeping gestures.

“Will you be away long?” Ciri asks from the table. There dinner sits undisturbed. Unchanging since the moment he told them it had arrived.

He snorted. “Heavens no- I hate assigned work. The moment my contract is up I shall be catching the first boat home. I’m not Geralt, I don’t do overtime.”

Geralt’s face is hollow. Terrified. Perhaps even ill.

It is a feeling reflected in the twist of his guts. He does not let it show.

“No but it shall be a grand time. I’ll send you trinkets from across the globe and write ballads about such wonderful new places. Ah- I’ll send you so many Geralt will have to build a new shelf to store them and then he will surely complain I’ve cluttered the house up with useless junk and nonsense.”

He stabs one of the potatoes off Ciri’s plate and raises it to her mouth.

She gives him a look that says I am too old for this. But humors him all the same. Taking a bite.

“You will have to help him out. Because I shall be writing a great many letters, so many in fact I will fill this house with words and you shan’t even notice I’m gone, but his letters back will contain so little I will be left adrift. You will have to write me princess and keep me updated on all the happenings I am missing while I am abroad. Do not let me fall out of the gossip circles while I am away. I fear I would never catch back up.”

“Jaskier-“ He tries as Ciri slumbers in her room.

“Don’t.” There is a wobble and a weakness and all he can do is hold him. “There is nothing to be done. Better I than you.”

“I could-“

“No.” Firmly. His shaking hands grip the arms wrapped around him. “Think of Ciri.”

He hooks his chin over Jaskier’s shoulder. Makes no mention of the tears that wet his hair.

“Promise you’ll write.”

“I promise.”

The radio sings on. He sways them back and forth.

It is the last time they will dance for months. Maybe an entire year.

It may be the last time they will ever dance.

He heads out at sunrise for the long journey into town.

Geralt cups his face and Jaskier leans into it. Tears threaten to fall from the cornflower blue of his eyes. He covers his hand in his own.

“Geralt if all we have just isn’t meant to be-“

He will not entertain the thought. The one that he knows is responsible for the deep bruises under his eyes. That kept him awake all night. That kept them both awake all night.

He will not entertain the thought.

He will not let it be spoken.

“Come back to me.” He orders.

“You know I can’t resist you when you use that voice with me.” He manages to smirk coyly through his fear.

“Good.”

There is no one here for miles. There is no one here to see. There is no evidence for someone to use against them.

No proof Jaskier kissed him at all.

But he does. It is long and slow and gentle.

It lasts for so long and no time at all.

He would rather it last for eternity.

But alas, it does not.

“Be home soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

And he is gone.

[peggyrose19]

Babylon

Hello! Angst here. I am back. Did you miss me? No? Too bad :) 

So I came up with this idea in the car a few weeks ago and subsequently nearly ran my car off the road which is why I shouldn’t be allowed to drive. It was inspired by this song if you’d like to listen while you read and make it harder on yourself. Characters belong to @lumosinlove as always. I’ve changed a little bit of the timeline, but this is a fic after all, it’s allowed. Thank you for reading!! Ily all <3

I thought we had a place, just our place, our home base, my headspace

Was you and I always, but that phase has been phased in our place

I see it on your face, a small trace, a blank slate, we've been erased

But if we're way too faded to drive, you can stay one more night

The roof had always felt like theirs. The rink was too, their starting line and the stalls next to each other in the locker room, and so was the dorm room they shared. But the roof, that was different. It was just for them.

No one else ever went up there. Just Finn and Logan, when they needed to escape from it all. It was quiet, as quiet as it could get in a college town. But they could see almost the whole campus from up there, and each time Logan remembered the first night Finn had taken him up here, Halloween of his freshman year. It hadn’t been that long ago, hell had barely been six months. But it felt like lifetimes ago. 

Logan sat up there alone, staring at the stars. It was chilly still, the spring air cooling fast at night. He pulled his hood up, huddling farther into his sweatshirt. It was Finn’s, he noted distantly, breathing in the musky smell lingering on the cloth. 

He sighed. It was all so complicated. 

Of all the people there, he had to fall for his roommate. 

It had been them, from the very beginning. The two of them facing the world together, or college at least, side by side in games and out, Finn and Logan, Logan and Finn. The connection had been instantaneous from that very first moment they met at training camp.

The more Logan thought about it, the more it upset him. And the more he wished he could stop. But hard as he tried, he never seemed to fully push Finn from his mind. Tears pooled in his eyes as the overwhelming sense of fear and hopelessness crept in, the way it so often did when he thought of this. It just seemed like no matter what he did, it was never going to work. 

A warm weight appeared at Logan’s side then and he jumped.

“Woah, Lo, calm down,” Finn chuckled, climbing onto the roof and settling next to him. “It’s just me.”

“You startled me, that’s all,” Logan replied, hurriedly wiping away his tears. Thankfully Finn didn’t comment.

“Brrr, it’s chilly up here,” was all Finn said, moving closer to him. Logan told himself it was just the smart thing to do, using each other’s body heat to warm up, and not Finn needing an excuse to get close to him. It didn’t stop a shiver from running through him when Finn’s knee knocked his and, for just a moment, Logan could feel his breath hot on his face. 

But then the moment passed and Finn was looking up at the sky while Logan stared at his lips and suddenly they were them again, Logan and Finn, teasing each other as friends and hiding from the world. 

Logan didn’t have it in him to leave.

I'm tired of the feud, your short fuse, my half-truths are not amused

I wish we had a clue to start new, a white moon, no residue

The color of our mood is so rude, a cold June, we're not immune

But if we're way too faded to fight, you can stay one more night

It was late when Finn staggered into the house and upstairs to the room he shared with Logan. Logan who, when he opened the door, sat up in bed and glared at him.

“Where have you been?” he demanded quietly. 

Finn looked at him in the dim light, leaning against the door as he shut it. 

“Out,” he answered shortly. He wasn’t drunk, hadn’t touched alcohol in over a week, but looking at Logan in that moment, it kind of felt like he was. His green eyes glinted, turning gray in the darkness. 

He didn’t move from the door, but stood, examining Logan as best he could; the swoop of his shoulders, the dip in his collarbone, the toned planes of his stomach. He always slept without a shirt on, Finn thought dimly. His eye caught on the dark ink on Logan’s hip and his breath caught in his throat.

“Finn?” Logan asked carefully. Finn could feel his breath coming quicker, the tightening in his stomach that only Logan ever seemed to cause these days. Making a split-second decision, he crossed the room and dropped onto Logan’s bed, cupping his face roughly and bringing their lips together.

Logan gasped into his mouth, and for a split second Finn worried he’d gone too far. But then Logan was wrapping his arms around him and kissing him back and Finn relaxed into his arms. 

This kiss was different from their first one. For one, neither of them was the least bit drunk. But it was more than that. Logan was kissing him softer this time, pulling him close and caressing his hair, parting his lips gently and licking into his mouth. It sent licks of fire throughout Finn’s whole body, and he jerked back. 

“Finn, wait,” Logan panted when Finn chased his lips. “We can’t.”

“Lo what-” Finn frowned, unsure what had changed. Logan was looking at him warily, fear in his eyes. “Why? Are you okay?”

“We can’t,” Logan said again. “We can’t.” 

“Logan.” He didn’t meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Logan demanded, looking up at him. “Harzy. We can’t- we can’t be, can’t do whatever this is, okay? I can’t-” Logan trailed off, running a hand distractedly through his hair. He watched Finn for a long moment, his mind swirling as he desperately tried to stay mad at him. But it was futile, it always was. It was impossible to stay mad at Finn, especially when he looked so lost and upset. He sighed

“Look, I’m sorry.” He ran a tired hand over his face. “I just- I’m sorry. It’s late, let’s just- let’s just get some sleep. We can… we can talk in the morning, just… please don’t look at me like that.” Logan fell silent, and Finn stared at him, wondering what his expression looked like to cause him to say that.  

“G’night Logan,” was all he said, and then stood up and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving his best friend staring dejectedly after him.

We said we'd both love harder than we knew we could go

But still the hardest part is knowing when to let go

You wanted to go higher, higher, higher

Burn too bright, now the fire's gone

Watch it all fall down

Babylon

Logan didn’t want to let Finn go. As he laid in his tiny twin bed, Finn pressed up against him, it felt even harder. He was leaving in the morning, in just a few short hours, and the more Logan thought about it, the harder it became to fight back tears. 

He knew he had to let him go. 

But he also knew that he loved him. 

And he wasn’t sure what to do with that. 

Logan had never known what to do with his feelings for Finn, if he was being honest with himself. And this seemed as good a time as any to start telling the truth. Some part of him had always loved Finn, from that very first moment they met. He had felt himself falling for his best friend and teammate with each passing day, and had pushed the feeling down so far he forgot it was there. 

Until that night. The party. Until he’d gotten drunk and chatted up a girl and Finn had looked at him with such jealousy in his eyes that Logan couldn’t stand it. So he’d let the girl go and begged Finn to come with him, making up a thin excuse to get him alone. 

Then he’d kissed him, in the light from the streetlamp, and Finn had kissed him back like he was everything and Logan had only fallen harder. But still he ran. And as he lay there remembering, tears sparked in his eyes. 

He didn’t want to ruin it all. Their friendship was too precious and Finn was leaving and-

It was all crashing down around him. 

They had been so good, toeing the line between platonic and romantic for so long. Pretending he didn’t feel more than he did, that he didn’t want Finn so much more than as a friend. He had known it was going to crash and burn at some point, had known since the moment Finn found out he was drafted. It didn’t make any easier to let him go.

Burn too bright, now the fire's gone, watch it all fall down

[therainroguefanfiction]

❉ 139 Dreams (Shinichi Okazaki) Off Guard

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,000 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Shinichi ☁

World: NANA ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You frowned at the beer in your hand, hanging your head. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you lately. When you were writing your first book, the words flowed like water from a faucet, and ideas had been popping into your head left and right. You finished writing that book within only four months and, six months after that, the book was published with a well-known company.

When you had gotten the news that your book was on the best-sellers list, you felt absolutely ecstatic. Calls started pouring in, congratulating you on your debut success and your publisher began to push you for book number two, despite the fact that you had no plans of turning it into a series.

At the time, you felt energized and excited, immediately agreeing to the demand, but when you finally got around to sitting down to start writing said book, your mind went as blank as the page. How many times had you set the pen to the paper only to lift it back up again before a single line was written? What happened to that overflow of ideas you once had? Did they just disappear into smoke?

‘Am I just going to be a one-hit-wonder? Is this really where my dream ends?’ You found yourself wondering as your hand clenched the bottle tighter.

Your two close friends had long since stopped chatting, exchanging worried looks as they watched you. Koko reached out, setting her hand atop your own, which snapped you from your thoughts. You sent her a confused look. Was she trying to confess or something?

“Are you okay?” she inquired softly.

You forced a bright smile, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

“You were zoning out again,” Lee commended, resting his chin in his hand.

“Was I?” You sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Writer’s stuff, you know.”

Koko hummed, reaching into her purse for a pen. She scribbled a number onto the napkin under her glass before sliding it over to you. You looked at it curiously, raising a brow – it wasn’t a number you recognized.

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “Call him. He has a way of knowing just what a person needs! Trust me, Y/N, Shinichi will blow your mind.”

You frowned down at the napkin, running your thumb over the dried ink. ‘Maybe I do need to get laid to clear my mind… Maybe if the experience is as good as she claims, it’ll even inspire something within me for the next book,’

After spending thirty more minutes together, the three of you exited the bar and went your separate ways. As you walked down the street, folding and unfolding the napkin, you decided to just bite the bullet. What did you have to lose? You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, heart racing as it started to ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” You answered a bit awkwardly. “Is this Shinichi?”

“This is him,”

“My friend gave me your number,” you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to think of the right words.

He chuckled and you faintly heard the flick of a lighter. “Would you like to make an appointment? I’m free tonight and will meet you wherever is convenient.”

“Oh, um, yeah! That’ll work. There’s a motel on Honjo street… do you know it?”

“Yeah, I’m not far from there. I’ll meet you there in twenty.”

“Sure,” The phone went dead and you ended the call, turning around to head in the direction of the motel. Night had long since fallen and the parking lot was nearly empty as you approached the glass door of the office where you found a middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk, drinking from something within a brown paper bag before coughing violently as the liquid went down the wrong pipe.

You forced a smile, pretending like you hadn’t seen the scene. “I’d like a room for two days, please.”

She hiccuped, turning toward the computer – an ancient fossil of a thing that you were surprised even worked. You had to repeat your information several times before she finally got it entered correctly. After confirming the payment, she handed you the key for room 204 and you stepped out into the chilly night. Movement from the left made you glance over, seeing a male stepping out of a taxi. He was thin with spiky, powder blue hair. Multiple piercings glinted under the light of the streetlamp, covering his ears and even one connected to his lip.

The man turned around after paying his fare and smiled, approaching you without hesitation. He was definitely cute but… something about him felt off and you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Hi,” you said softly, playing with the key in your hand to calm your nerves. “Shinichi, right? I got us a room.”

He smirked, “You work fast~” And then his hand slid into your own, his fingers calloused and rough. “Lead the way,”

With a nod, you started toward the row of rooms, glancing at him every few seconds. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’m not sure how this works.” You slid the key into the lock and entered the room, letting the door shut behind the two of you. “I’ve never done this before…”

Shinichi smiled gently as he sat on the side of the bed, hands behind him to support his weight. “Don’t worry, we can take it as slow as you need. First, tell me your name.”

You took a seat across from him on the other bed. “My name is Y/N,”

“Y/N,” he tested the way your name tasted on his tongue. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous person.”

You giggled. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you.”

“It’s my job to be. Now, what is it you’re looking for, Y/N?”

Your lips parted to answer, but nothing escaped and your shoulders slumped as you frowned. ‘What do I want?’

Sensing your hesitation, Shinichi stood up and gently pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over your own as his knee settled between your legs and his lips pressed into the skin beneath your ear. His voice was husky as he spoke, warm breath tickling your skin. “Don’t overthink it. Tell me what’s bothering you, what made you give me a call.”

Your hands gripped at his slim waist, fingers sliding through the loops on his jeans. You’re not sure exactly what came over you, but you didn’t hesitate to spill your guts to this man, telling him every little detail from the moment you started writing to the current pressures from your publisher. Sometime during the story, he had shifted so he straddled your waist, looking down at you with wonder shining in his blue eyes.

“You’re really a best-selling author?” He grinned. “That’s so cool,”

“Yeah… cool.” You smiled back, but it was forced. “It’s looking like it’s just gonna be the one, though.”

“Hmm, I’ve always heard that it’s easiest to write about what you know or what you’ve personally experienced.”

“I’ve heard that before,” you admitted. “But my life hasn’t exactly been exciting or interesting.”

“Even so, you just got to start writing.” Shinichi stood up, pulling you with him before searching the small table between the two beds. He found a small pad of paper and a ballpoint pen and handed them over to you. “Don’t overthink it, just write whatever comes to mind.” He gave you an encouraging smile, tugging you toward the table.

You had very little hope that it would work, but his expression was just so damn cute you couldn’t deny him. Taking a deep breath to clear your mind, you sat down across from him and set the pen to the page.

And you started to write.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You burst through your apartment door, startling Shinichi who was sat on the floor with his guitar in his lap. “Shin! Guess what!”

He hummed, setting the guitar on the floor beside him as he crossed his legs. “Did you finally get a promotion at work?”

“Even better!” You cried, throwing yourself to the ground across from him. The excitement was so high that you couldn’t even sit still.

Shinichi frowned, leaning back against the couch. “Did you get a boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes, smacking his knee. “No, you dork. My publisher approved the new book!”

“That’s great!” He smiled brightly, launching himself at you. You squeaked in surprise as the force sent you tumbling backward, his arms tight around your waist as he snuggled his face against your chest. “I knew you could do it, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

You brought your hand up, fingers lacing through his hair, slightly stiff from the amount of gel he used to make it so spikey. “It’s all because of you, Shin.”

And it was. Since that first fateful meeting two years ago, you had met with him twice a week, soon going to three times a week before finally asking him over to your apartment where he spent several nights at a time. Each meeting, he would encourage you to write whatever came to your mind while he sat and observed you. You grew close to him pretty quickly and, soon, you completed the first draft for your next book.

Together, the two of you read through the draft, making corrections or changes as you saw fit. This book was just as much his as it was yours, and you made sure to tell him so.

“I helped with the ideas, sure, but you’re the one that put in the real work.” He responded, a smile lighting up his face.

“Move in with me,” you told him suddenly, feeling your heart quicken as you realized what you just said. ‘Shit, I said the first thing that popped into my head!’ You knew Shinichi was a prostitute and that he hadn’t stopped seeing his other clients since meeting you. You never figured he would, to be honest, but… you had let yourself get too attached to him and now it hurt knowing he went to see other people, sleeping with them and spending time with them.

He was a young, attractive man, so naturally he would rather be with the clients that actually slept with him rather than picking his brain for ideas for a book. The farthest you had gone with him was a kiss on the cheek.

Silence fell over the apartment and you closed your eyes, wishing you could just disappear. ‘Y/N, you idiot. God, why did I say that?’

Shinichi pushed himself away from you after the words had left your lips. The minutes ticked by in absolute silence, seeming to stretch on forever as you prayed that the ground would just swallow you up whole.

He took an intake of breath, slowly releasing it. “Okay,”

Now that caught you off guard. Your eyes snapped open, locking with his own. Had you misheard him?

With a soft smile, he leaned forward until his forehead was resting against yours. “I would love to live with you, Y/N.” And then his lips found yours and you knew he had developed feelings for you, too.

You nipped at his lip before flipping him over so that you were hovering above him. “You joked about me finding a boyfriend. How could I when you’re the only one I want, Shinichi?” You hoped your feelings could reach him, eyes shining with love. “You don’t have to sell yourself anymore! You can have my money, live in my apartment, eat my food. You never have to worry about making money anym -”

He cut off your words when he grabbed the back of your neck, slamming his lips against yours to silence you. It was obvious he didn’t know how to convey his feelings through words like you could, so he used his body to do the talking for him. And to you, his desires were clear as day.

‘I’m yours now,’

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Weeping Statue | Feeding Habits Update #6 & let’s chat about quitting writing

Hello! Are we back for another Feeding Habits update (finally)?? Let’s chat chapter 7, Weeping Statue.

Just a reminder: This is my original work and plagiarism of any form will not be tolerated.

Can we talk about struggle? Because this chapter was IT. I believe I started it in late July and finished it earlier this month. I’ve taken my time with chapters before, but this was next level--the amounts of changes I went through in one chapter was astronomical, and reminded me of drafting chapter three earlier in the summer. I went through so many stages writing this chapter: from enjoying it, to feeling no joy from writing at all, to nearly quitting this book altogether!

Scene A:

Harrison and his mother Suzanna simultaneously avoid each other over breakfast after he failed to return home the night previous

She lowkey calls him out (calling out his denial of missing Lonan)

Scene B:

Harrison goes to a farmhouse owned by Theodore Harvey, a friend of his mother’s, to drop off the rescued litter of kittens from chapter 6. He realizes he is missing one kitten and concludes Reeve has stolen one after dinner the night previous.

Scene C:

Harvey invites Harrison inside for coffee where he admits his coffee machine is broken.

Harrison fixes the coffee machine, and is hired by Harvey to flip the rest of the farmhouse as he and his wife are moving.

Scene D:

On his way home, Harrison stops at a gas station where he buys a bouquet of tulips for his mother, a dog collar for the puppy he found in the kitten litter, a pack of gum, pastries, and sunscreen before heading to a beach.

At the onset of a lightning storm, Harrison swims in the ocean and has an epiphany--he decides to accept his miserable life (a development!)

Scene E:

After the beach ordeal, Harrison returns to his apartment ready to accept the plainness of his daily life when an old ghost from his past (his! ex!) Lonan appears to be having dinner with Suzanna

This chapter brought so many things. A) many... breakdowns lol (I cried a lot!), B) many false epiphanies that wound me back into ruts, C) a desire to quit this series that was just as terrifying as it sounds and D) an ideology I never would’ve gotten on my own. Just have to thank my sister Sarah for telling me a few weeks ago after I insisted that I knew what needed to logically happen but couldn’t write it no matter how hard I tried. She said: “It’s not about what works, it’s about what you want” << literally changed my philosophy on writing, even as someone who tries their best to advocate for care and enjoyment in writing. Not sure if it’s because of the timing when she said this, but I’d probably never had made it out of the rut without having this said to me.

I was *not* planning at all to have my boys reunite so soon in the book. Technically, it is not very soon and we are almost done the book, but for some reason, I really didn’t think it would work so early because I felt Harrison’s POV was so undeveloped already (I still think it is). HOWEVER, the fact of the matter is: it was not working at all. I knew exactly what I needed to do to get to point A to Z but the thing about writing is, it is not formulaic! I tried to make fit what I thought worked, but as time progressed and I immensely struggled, less and less did I want what worked. Writing was miserable and that’s not what I want writing to be for me. So I took Sarah’s advice, and I did what would make me happy, and that was, and has always been, seeing my boys interact.

Now that I’ve finished this chapter, I’m not sure if I made the right decision! I have yet to write the boys interacting so I don’t know if it will work, but what I liked about this method is that it freed me from this constriction I’d written myself into and opened a new avenue to do something that DOESN’T “work” for the story but that does work for me. To me, this project, this series, is more important to me than making something “work”. Sustaining my health and happiness (which were declining on the path I was on) is critical for me and my writing journey.

EDIT: by the time I’m editing this post, I have written the boys interacting and haha yep this was the right decision! Was doubting myself for a sec, added in a lil robbery, and now it’s all good (oops)

Excerpts:

I don’t have too many for you because this chapter does need an edit to “set” it in place (right now it feels like liquid Jello that has been in the fridge but is yet to set up). I know it needs one more scene but I cannot :) write :) what :) it :) needs :) no matter how hard I have tried, and so I am giving that section of the story a break instead of over-kneading it and toughening up the dough unnecessarily.

Here is part of the opening scene! There are things I don’t like about this but I am trying not to self-hate, so !!!

The next morning, Harrison gets up at dawn to drop the kittens off at the farm, and Suzanna makes coffee for one. This is unusual for both—Harrison rarely leaves the apartment, and Suzanna always makes coffee for two. In his room, Harrison combs his hair and twists his earring, its blue gem pearling in dribbles of sunlight. In the kitchen, Suzanna stirs coffee like it’s wronged her. Harrison dabs cologne onto his throat and blinks off his hangover. Suzanna flecks her spoon onto the tabletop so it leaves an egg of amber on the surface.

When he approaches the kitchen, Harrison pretends he does not see his mother and his mother pretends she does not see him. They move like this, repelled, one moving left, the other moving right, one opening the top cupboard, the other opening the bottom.

Harrison stops at a convenience store and buys a hodge-podge of things (also the beach scene which yes mirrors the last scene in Lonan’s POV hehe I indulge myself):

He picks up the best bouquet of fuchsia tulips, a collar for the dog he left in his bedroom even though it’ll be weeks until she’s big enough to fit in it, a pack of spearmint gum he doesn’t need, a package of pastries, and a tube of sunscreen—SPF 30. He almost drops every item at least once on his way up to the register, and definitely drops them when his receipt is spitting from the machine and the store clerk says she likes his earring—is it vintage—and he nearly vomits in the parking lot, trained against the hood of the taxi—is it even his taxi—the plastic bag teetering from his wrist, rain coiling against his cheek, the air so humid, his clothes so heavy, it is no wonder the next place he ends up is the beach.

It is never smart to swim during a storm. If he thinks hard enough, his mother’s voice warns him to keep from the shore, stand behind the yellow line, stay safe, stay where you are, don’t run under a tree, and even more, don’t run into the water. He does everything wrong in an even worse order—dollops sunscreen into his palm before opening the pastry so his teeth freckles with zinc, chews the gum and the pastry at the same time so his tongue becomes a slime of crumbs, rests the tulips too close to the shoreline so they wilt under a wave, misplaces the dog collar in his own left hand, and dives into the water fully-clothed.

Harrison getting very angsty about Lonan’s future (which he’s predicted completely wrong haha):

He will die alone. Reeve will not think of him again and he will deserve that. Somewhere in the city with the missing kitten, drinking bottles of holy water because there is no drink more fitting for a woman so sacred. His mother will miss him only briefly, and then return to her daily life of no longer needing to clean up after him. Maybe she’ll find the tulips. Put them on display until they wither, then use their carcasses as fertilizer. Save electricity. Use the coffee machine less. Downsize to a smaller, cheaper, prettier apartment with arched walkways and stained-glass windows. Harvey will think he is a fluke who missed his first day of work and will never think of him again. The dog isn’t old enough to recognize him. Suzanna will give her the collar. And Lonan will continue his life in Las Vegas, tottering after Eliza, refilling her wine, getting neon at house parties, watching French silent films without captions because he’s probably learned another language, cut his hair, gotten a tattoo, learned how to cross-stitch, bought life insurance, a yacht, a coastal summer home, learned how to play the mandolin, perfected his lamb sous vide. He’s probably married. Him and Eliza family-planning. He’ll expand a future, and Harrison will do the opposite. There is something freeing in being unmissed.

Lightning snaps across the sky like a wishbone, sounds like the prick of tambourines from under the water. Everything turns violet—the clouds, his skin, the waves. Tomorrow will be a better day, as he sinks lower into the current, tomorrow will be a better day, as the light fades and dissolves into blackness, tomorrow will be a better day, as seaweed wraps his throat, as the freezing water impales his ribs, as he burrows under and simultaneously, rises up.

This next part comes right after!

In the stomach of a tidal wave, the sky is so much bluer. An unrolling of cyan like fractals of a baked marble. There is so little to remember. No grocery lists, no fresh turmeric, no shift of portabella mushrooms. No outstanding to-dos—no kibble to by, no resume to update. Harrison folds in blue and lets it gorge his eardrums. He gives his body to that wide chasm of water and breaststrokes not into a second life, but a third.

Here is the last bit:

He buzzes back into the apartment at 3:00AM, tracking in saltwater and SPF, puff-pastry gummed to his palm, a dog collar wound around his ring finger, a sheath of tulips shedding into the elevator behind him.

He hits every floor button twice and is undisturbed when the elevator lurches and reopens in sixty-second intervals. A man rotating a jade cuff on his wrist gets on at the fourth stop and gets off at the sixth. A woman wearing a lynx cape gets on at the eighth stop, breaks up with two girlfriends, and gets off at the eleventh. Two children in coveralls tail in after she leaves and throw jacks at each other’s eyes until one of them bleeds, and by then, they are on the fifteenth floor and the children are leaving like they have not left behind accidental shell casings. On the sixteenth floor, a deer head chihuahua patters in with no owner and barks at the door chime the moment it releases and lets him out. A mother and daughter shell pistachios on the twentieth, a maintenance man introduces himself as David though his nametag says Maxwell on the twenty-second, a flock of teenage girls in whirl about a new way to blend oil pastel on the twenty-third. So it is no wonder by the twenty-fifth floor, Harrison misses his stop and becomes one of these people too—the man with zinc down his eyes like a weeping statue, juggling pastry and a dog collar and a seedy bouquet of tulips.

He tracks seawater in that hallway, parts of him scattering with the zinc, the petals, the crumbs. Like a way to get back home even though he hasn’t started at his destination, he moves through the labyrinth of halls, both starving and nauseated. Tomorrow he will rise at dawn and taxi to Brooklyn and hammer four nails into two pieces of plywood and repeat. He will feed his dog. Learn how to cook something that will impress his mother, something French that he can’t pronounce like brasillé or oeufs cocotte. Find liberation in the constrict of routine or at least pretend to. It will be good for him, the rising, the taxis, the hammers, the nails, the dog food, the cooking—it will all be good.

By the time he gets to their door, his fingers are oiled and dripping with sunscreen. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. He nearly drops the house keys. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. Tomorrow will be his arrival. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. His beginning swelling as he turns the lock. Rising, taxis, hammers, nails, dog food, cooking. There is no other way out.

The apartment is dark when he tracks in. The scent of cinnamon steeping the air like Suzanna’s pulled a saucepan of papas off the stove. At first he doesn’t hear it, but he should, the voices leafing the kitchen like a flit of moths. He steps out of his shoes but never sets anything down, even after he passes the coffee table. Two plates ringing the centre, streaked with and caldeirada and bayleaf. A pitcher of lemonade sweating onto the glass. It is almost like he never left, like he and his mother shared dinner, sipped from each other’s cups, cleaned the tines of each other’s fishbones. And he almost believes it. He never went to the farm. The kittens are where he left them, just a few feet away, not in Brooklyn. He doesn’t have a job to tend to. He never fixed the coffee machine. He didn’t go to the convenience store. He is not slathered in sunscreen, not holding a dog collar or pastries or a bouquet of tulips. He never dove into the ocean like it was some port to asylum and didn’t emerge soaked and walking half-dead to his apartment because he never left. This reality is so easy to believe, he is unfazed by the voices and how they get louder when he reaches the kitchen, when one says “Were you shopping for the apocalypse?” and the other one chokes on its drink and apologizes for its rudeness and stares at him in daydream, those eyes like forget-me-nots, gas fires, seafoam, the wing of a starling, his drop earring.

Harrison is grateful he is soaking wet when he enters that kitchen and Suzanna and Lonan sit at the table sharing a box of petit fours. At least he has an excuse when he drops everything.

That’s it for this update! The tea starts HERE!

--Rachel

[ipuckwithhockey]

Always In Your Corner- Part 4

a/n: Originally this chapter was going to be a little longer, but I’m not satisfied with the second half so I decided to go ahead and post. Sorry about the long wait! Please ignore my grammar mistakes. I hope y’all enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You were happily engaged to your perfect boyfriend when everything came tumbling down on you. The person you turned to just so happened to be your long time friend, Boone Jenner. The ever loyal Boone is there to help you get back on your feet. Little did you know, Boone had been pining after you for all these years, he’s just not sure if you’ll ever feel the same way about him.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, drinking

-------

Almost a year later…

The season wasn’t quite under way yet, but everyone was back in Columbus for camp and preseason. The summer without Boone was a long one, but it was good for you to be independent after relying on him for so long. You still talked everyday and he came back to Ohio a couple of times to visit. Since he got back you’ve been spending more and more time together. Boone would be lying if he said that one of his trips back to Columbus was just for a voluntary charity event. He would have used any excuse to be back in the city with you.

You had grown a lot since you walked out on Craig. Living on your own was a hard transition but you got the hang of it. You were starting to find the head strong and excited girl you used to know. You also felt like you had finally started becoming your own person, independent from a man. For the first time you did what you wanted, when you wanted, and you loved that part. There were always days that were harder than others, but you had come along way, and you were proud of yourself.

The first time you ran into Craig was definitely one of the hard days.

It was nearly six months after you had walked out, and shortly after Columbus had been knocked out of the playoffs. You were walking out of a coffee shop one morning when you saw Craig, hand in hand with Chelsea. They looked happy and if you hadn’t known them you would have thought they made a cute couple, but you did know them. You knew that she was the girl who your fiancé had slept with. You also knew, that the blame couldn’t just be put on her. Craig made the choice just as consciously as she had.

You thought that if you looked down and didn’t say anything they may not even notice you, but just as you passed them you heard Craig’s voice, “Y/N? Is that you?”

“Oh hey! I didn’t even see you guys!” You probably seemed too eager, but they were both being overtly nice too.

“Wow, I didn’t even recognize you at first.” Craig was probably referencing the hard work you had been putting in at the gym over the last few months, in an attempt to help yourself get back on track.

“Your hair is a lot longer, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it styled like that.” Chelsea was now referencing your grown out hair that you recently added some highlights to. You knew she was trying hard to make polite conversation. You hadn’t been dying to do go full on break up bangs, but you figured some fresh color couldn’t hurt.

“It looks really good,” Craig was looking at you, and you knew he was looking at you in a way a taken man shouldn’t be looking at a single girl. You knew that look, proving that you still knew parts of him like the back of your hand. But the thing was, he was never a huge fan of your hair when it was long. Once he even said that he thought you should keep you hair short like some celebrity he had seen on tv. You always thought it was kind of sweet that he cared about little things like how your hair was, but now you saw how controlling he was.

You wanted to be the bigger person, you wanted to just let it go, but you couldn’t, “That’s funny, you never liked my hair when it was long,” You let out a laugh as a weak attempt at keeping it light. You could tell Chelsea was uncomfortable and Craig was searching for the right thing to say. “Well, it was good seeing you guys, but I’ve really got to run!” You gave a fake smile and made your way back down the street to where you had parked your car.  

Finally, you got to the car and you slammed your door shut behind you. In the silence of your car, your strong facade was stripped away, and you felt tears pierce the corners of your eyes. Feelings of sadness, embarrassment, and anger filled you to the brim. For months you had been working on recovering from your downfall, and in this moment you couldn’t help but feel like it was all for nothing.

It’s like Boone knows when you need him, and you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jacket. When you looked down and saw that it was him you automatically answered it, “Hey B, what’s up? Miss me already?” You tried to hide your uneven breathing caused by your sobs from a few seconds ago, but it did little to deter from the fact that you had been crying.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? I’ll get on the next flight to Columb-“

“Boone, I’m fine. Really. I just ran into Craig and Chelsea, and I know it’s stupid, but it just sucked seeing them together and now I’m just crying in my car, and I’m pretty sure I freaked out some little kid when he walked by because I look scary when I ugly cry.” You stumbled your way through the rest of the story and Boone did his best to understand you through your crying and hiccups. When you first went to stay with Boone, you had been reluctant to share things with him, not wanting to overshare or burden him with too much. Now, you were more comfortable talking with him, even if he did have to pry a little at first. 

“I’m not sure if I got all of that, but fuck him. He’s a loser and so is that Chelsea bitch. I wouldn’t care what you did with your hair. Your hair is great, don’t get me wrong, but it isn’t the only reason you’re beautiful. You’re a good person, and you’re probably the smartest person I know. You’re funny, even though I hate to admit it.n Plus, you’ve got killer friends, like me. I meant it when I said I would come back. If you need me, I’m there. You know that.”

You of course hadn’t asked him to come back, but take note that his protective manner towards you has definitely grown over the last few months. After reassuring him that you were going to be fine, you decided that you weren’t going to wallow in this. It was in the past, and you knew then more than ever, that you had made the correct decision in leaving Craig.  

Tonight, Alexander’s girlfriend Felicia, was throwing a party for his birthday. As always you were invited, and Janelle had insisted that you come. This was their last big hurrah before the season started, and most the mom’s in the group had made sure to get babysitters for the special occasion.

The “small party” you were invited to didn’t seem that small when you arrived. The house party was full of people you didn’t recognize and it wasn’t until you made it to the kitchen that you found some familiar faces.

“HEYY! Y/N! YOU CAME!!” Pierre and some of the other guys cheered and pulled you into hugs as you entered the kitchen.

“I don’t think Janelle really gave me a choice.” You’re laughing but everyone standing around knows that it’s true. She can be very persuasive.

Pierre starts making you a drink when you feel an arm come around your side. You don’t even have to look beside you to know that it’s Boone. You take in his scent and the safety of his arms settle you in this crazy party setting.

“Hey, there you are.” He greets you.

“Hey,” The way Boone looks down at you makes your heart rate rise. Lately, you’ve been feeling differently around Boone, and it’s taking everything in you to suppress those feelings, especially with Boone’s arm hanging around your body. You wonder if he’s noticed that your hugs have been a little longer and that you keep to his side more often.  You try to tell yourself that it’s because you have become closer friends, and not because you might have feelings for him. 

“So, who’s going to claim me for their beer pong team?” You ask the room, and all the guys jump at the offer. You were known as a pretty big competitor on the Jacket’s beer pong circuit. Usually Josh would rope you into being his partner, but tonight Boone seemed eager to draft you for his team.

An hour later, you and Boone have basically defeated all of your worthy opponents, and you part ways to get a new drink. Josh and Seth wave down Boone to come join their conversation.

“So what’s going on man?” Seth asks.

“What do you mean? I just kicked your ass in beer pong!” Boone chirps back at Seth knowing that’s not what he’s talking about. The guys, and even some of the girls have asked him about the status of your relationship. The thing is, nothing has actually changed.

When Boone got back to Columbus a couple weeks ago you started to hang out almost everyday. Whenever either of you had time free, you were together. The ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ hugs seemed to linger longer, as did the accidental touches, and cuddling on the couch.

“Dude, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You guys both look at each other with heart eyes. It’s disgusting, but it would be better if you just made a fucking move. At least just fuck already! I think everybody in here can feel the awkward sexual tension!” Josh is chiming in now, and the alcohol he has consumed is making him a little more liberal with his words.

“Fuck off man. We’ve barely even seen each other in the past four months. I’m not sure if she’s ready to date at all, let alone wants to date me.” Boone chooses to ignore the “fucking” suggestion.

“Booner, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a fucking idiot.” Seth just pats him on the back and leaves the two other guys to talk.

While Boone goes to hang with the boys, some of the WAGs pull you into their conversations. Eventually Felicia pops the same question, “So, what’s going on with you and Boone?” Everyone is quick to turn to you with big eyes, waiting for a big reveal that isn’t going to come. “Nothing, we’re just friends.” You shrug and hope that they will leave it alone. You had been feeling differently about Boone lately, but you couldn’t let yourself think about it that way. He was your friend, and he helped you get back on your feet when the world’s biggest asshole cheated on you. You probably just thought you liked him because he was so nice to you. He would do anything for you because he’s your friend, not because he has feelings for you.

“Ok, you can keep living in denial, but all of us will be over here waiting for you guys to get your shit together and just confess your love to one another!” Janelle has been on you about this since they got back to Columbus, saying that you needed to get back out there, and that Boone was perfect for you. She insisted that he had feelings for you too, but you knew she was just determined to get you back into the dating scene.

Boone watches you from across the party and wonders what you are talking about. He thinks about how well you fit into his life here in Columbus. Natalie Atkinson must have said something funny, causing you to laugh. He loved watching you throw your head back when you laughed. For a long time after Craig he wasn’t sure when the next time he would see that would be.

He didn’t want to seem too clingy, especially with the guys already on his back about the two of you, so he tried to keep a safe distance for most of the night. He made sure to keep an eye on you for two reasons: one being he wanted to make sure you were safe and the second being the fact that he quite literally couldn’t help himself from watching you.

Throughout most of the night you talk with the other girls, but somehow Pierre and Tex pulled you into doing shots. It was nice to let your hair down a bit, but your alcohol tolerance wasn’t anywhere close to that of the hockey players you were trying to keep up with. It’s not until almost 2am that Boone finds his way back to your side. Somehow Boone had been pulled into a deep debate over whether or not a hotdog was a sandwich, and had missed you getting pulled into doing shots. When he glanced around the room to find you he didn’t see you, so he went to see if you were in the kitchen. That’s where he found you, multiple shots in, with Pierre and Tex.

“Hey, where have you been?” Your words are definitely slurring, and you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck. He looks so good tonight and your inhibitions have been clouded with alcohol.

“I’ve been here the whole time, but it looks like these guys have gotten you into some trouble.” Pierre and Tex are trying to play coy and leave the two of you in the kitchen before they get scolded anymore. You’re just trying to focus on Boone and not on the fact that his hands are balancing you on your hips.

“Well I missed you,” not able to control your tongue, some honest thoughts escape your mouth. 

“I missed you too, but we should probably get you home.” He laughs. 

Boone, ever the responsible adult, stopped drinking a while ago and was planning on driving home. The two of you say your goodbyes as you continue to hang onto his sturdy arm.

“Do you need help getting in the car?”

“No. I can do it!” The false sense of confidence that was induced from alcohol gave way when you tried to lift your leg to the car step. You about fell on your ass. Boone was of course there to catch you, and help you into the car. He makes sure you’re all buckled in before he hops in the driver’s seat, and pulls out of the drive.

“Hey Boone?” You move your head to face him and you admire the way his beard is perfectly trimmed to emphasize the outline of his strong jaw.  He’s just so goddamn handsome under the lights that line the streets of downtown Columbus.

“Yes?”

“Can we go back to your place? Cus, it’s just that, your bed is so much comfier than mine, like it’s just so warm and cozy. And it smells so good.”

He can’t help but laugh at how cute and small you sound, “Sure, but you know you have the same mattress at your house, right?” He glances over to see you staring up at him.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s not the same….”

“…Hey B, you’re pretty handsome, you know that? Like you’re kind of a total man rocket.” He can’t help but laugh, but your confession lingers in his mind. Maybe you did feel something for him… 

You can’t really stop yourself now, words are falling out of your mouth without warning. “You’re like way hotter than Craig ever was. AAND you’re so nice. Like what’s with guys being selfish assholes all the time? But you’re not like that. You’re one of the good ones. Some girl is gonna be really really lucky one day.”

Once your rant is over neither of you say much else until you pull into Boone’s apartment. You’ve dozed off, and Boone is careful not to wake you as he picks you up out of the passenger seat. When he makes it into the apartment he brings you to his room and sets you gently on the bed. He works to take your shoes off and moves around quietly, getting ready for bed.

“Hey B?”

Your whisper startles Boone at first, but he moves over to check on you, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Yeah? What’s up?”

“You’re not gonna leave are you?” The look in your glazed over eyes could have broken his heart. He wasn’t ever going to leave you.

“Not if you don’t want me too.” You give him a soft smile back as he moves to turn the light off. When he gets into bed, you roll over to snuggle into his side, and his natural reaction is to wrap his arms around you. The way your bodies fold into each other feels so right, and even though you’re halfway passed out, you can’t help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you.  

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep you ask again, “Hey B?”

“mhmm?”

“I love you.”

[sxfterhearts]

healed

31. [12:19 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of past violence, injuries, physical abuse

➳ word count: 2,725 words

➳ summary: 31. “Don’t worry about me,”

➳ author's note: this is it, the final part of this series! i hope it doesn’t let you down 😭😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts on this series, what you liked/didn’t like, and whether you’d like future drabbles in this universe!! (i’m tempted, tbh) that’s all from me, please please enjoy, lovely readers 🥰 (credits to @jinyoungot7​ for this wonderful gif that kills me everytime)

wounded // scarred // healed

A deep inhale made you giddy with joy. The familiar, sweet scent of this morning’s light drizzle lingered in the air. Although the weather was a bit too humid for your liking, you gratefully savoured the smell that filled your lungs. For some reason, being outside in the aftermath of a downpour always brought you back to that wooden counter of your parents’ restaurant. You used to watch the rain blanket the outside world from the inside as you soaked and drowned yourself in your daydreams. You were a foolish teenager back then, uncertain of the paths you would take and anxious of the future. Getting your heart broken by the one and only Kim Yugyeom was just the icing on the cake.

It was fair to say that a lot had changed since then. In the span of three years, you graduated high school, moved out of that tiny neighbourhood in Namyangju, rented a small studio apartment in Seoul and became a proud Veterinary Science student of Seoul National University.

Yet, you couldn’t help but to admit that while you had progressed into the next chapter of your life, some things will always remain the same. Like how your best friend, Yeeun, never missed out on an opportunity to lecture you over the phone from the comforts of her Busan home. You lifted the device away from your ears to save them from further damage, just as the leash of the cream Pomeranian in your care, Daisy, tugged you forwards, towards a passing bicycle. You urged the dog away from the edge of the sidewalk with a solid ‘No’, which she thankfully obeyed.

“I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything special the week before uni reopens! I mean, hello, we’re going to be spending the next twelve weeks slaving away at our desks, don’t you want to do something fun?” Yeeun shrieked in disbelief. You could imagine her shaking her head at you with that resigned look on her face, the one that signalled she had already given up trying to change your mind.

“Here, girl.” You whispered as softly as you could, trying to grab Daisy’s attention and guide her back to the adoption centre-cum-café, her temporary home. “This is fun and special, Eun. You of all people should know just how special it is to help out these cute furry little babies!”

“More like furry little rascals.” She muttered under her breath. “Come on, Y/N. I get that you’re really passionate about animals and all but just think about it – you’ll be facing these creatures for the rest of your life. You should really try something new once in a while. You know, go drinking or clubbing like a normal uni student. Besides, didn’t you just visit the centre last month for your birthday?”

She was right. You did make the one-hour trip to the adoption café on the morning of your birthday. Ever since that birthday three years ago, you always made it a point to celebrate by being in the presence of a furry companion. Taking care of another living creature, going on walks with them and picking up after them helped you to take your mind off that painful sixteenth birthday when you found out he was leaving. It became your annual ritual.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the small lump triggered by those memories. “Yeah, yeah I did. I… Did I tell you about the dog that I took care of that day?”

Yeeun took a large bite of her favourite takeaway noodles before letting out a muffled “No, what about it?”

“He was… Well, he was a tiny black Pomeranian puppy, not more than four months old. He was cheerful and energetic, couldn’t wait to go on his walk.” You smiled sadly at the thought.

“Yeah…? And?”

“He reminded me so much of Charcoal. You know, the black puppy from your mum’s shelter? I walked Charcoal with him three years ago.”

“Oh, him.” Yeeun grumbled at the mention of Yugyeom.

You ignored the obvious disapproval in her tone. “Yeah, the thing is I really, really, really liked this puppy, and I was even thinking about adopting him for good. I got everything set up in my place, got the pee mats, the dog food, everything, but I came in this morning and he was gone.”

Yeeun hummed over the phone. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you and the puppy just weren’t meant to be.” She said, trying her best to comfort you about the adoption that fell through. “Do you still think of him? Kim Yugyeom?” Yeeun asked gently.

You sighed, catching a brief glimpse of your reflection on the windows of a cold noodle restaurant a few doors down from the adoption centre. To this day, you couldn’t enjoy a bowl of naengmyeon without your mind wandering to the boy. “Not often. Honestly, Eun, every time I think I’ve forgotten him, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and he’ll just creep back into my head.”

“You know what they always say, darling. You never really forget your first love.”

You mulled over her words as you rounded the corner towards the adoption centre, Daisy trotting a few paces in front of you. “I wouldn’t call it love, per se, it’s just-”

“Wait, hold that thought,” She interrupted. “I’m sorry honey, the boyfriend is at the door. Do you mind if we continue this later?”

“Yeah, sure, I need to go too.” You stood at the entrance of the centre, reluctant to go in and part ways with Daisy. The dog came to a rest by your feet, huddling close. “Thanks for calling and reminding me of my poor life choices!” You said, full of sarcasm.

“Hey, that’s my duty as your best friend, don’t mention it.” She chuckled. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said. Go live a little, okay? You’ve already wasted too much time on Kim Yugyeom.”

“Yeah, I will.” You mumbled, agreeing with her words. “Go enjoy yourself with the boyfriend. Not too much though, and spare me the details. Talk next time!”

The two of you bid each other farewell and ended the call. Miraculously, talking to Yeeun made your chest a little lighter. Amongst countless other things, she had been there for you during Yugyeom’s abrupt departure and the initial stages of denial. She helped you draft, edit, and re-edit the numerous emails you sent to the boy, the only form of communication between you two for the first six months. She hugged you close and let you sulk on her shoulder when the emails suddenly stopped seven months after he left for Incheon. You were beyond grateful to have her as a voice of reason amongst your irrational thoughts; someone to walk with you hand in hand through the storms of life.

You made a mental note to ask your mother to send Yeeun a parcel of her prized kimchi as part of next month’s delivery. The girl never failed to mention how much she missed your parent’s cooking whenever the two of you talked on the phone.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched bark travelled across the street. You instinctively tightened your hold on Daisy’s leash, wary of the arrival of another canine. Cautiously, you watched as a four-legged, black ball of fur whizzed past the empty street, arriving before you and Daisy in a matter of seconds. As the dog grew closer and closer, recognition flashed across your mind as you noticed the dog’s distinctive white collar, a stark contrast to his coal black fur. The dog you intended to adopt this morning was wagging his tail and panting by your feet, letting out occasional playful barks at Daisy, his former neighbour. You bent down, arm reaching out to get a feel for his oh-so-soft fur–

“Dal!” A male voice, bright and awfully familiar, exclaimed between heavy breaths. “Dal, slow down, big boy! Daddy can’t…” The voice died down a notch, reducing to a whisper as its owner’s feet entered your line of sight. His entire body shaded your crouched figure from the afternoon sunshine that peeked through the clouds. “Catch up.”

A moment of silence ensued as your eyes panned upwards, scanning a pair of long legs covered in ripped jeans, then a yellow plaid shirt that was haphazardly tucked in, right up to the owner’s face. You couldn’t help the sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

Standing before you was none other than Kim Yugyeom himself. His features were more defined than ever, his wavy hair a silvery shade of platinum blonde and his ears adorned with a pair of silver hoop earrings. A single stainless-steel drop earring dangled from his earlobe, its bottom decorated with a half-crescent moon and a star. You stood there and stared at the boy you once knew, now a fine young man, just taking him in. You noticed the lack of cuts and scars on his unblemished, fully healed face. You spotted the beauty mark right under his right eye, standing out against his fair skin. You watched, mesmerised, as his lips twitched to form a slightly sheepish grin, while the tips of his ears burned and glowed into a striking shade of cherry red. Yugyeom’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his gaze lingering on your face for a few stretched out seconds before wandering away, then returning back.          

Him… It’s him… He’s here, in Seoul? But I thought he was supposed to be in Incheon, with Mark. What is he doing here? And how did he…? Your never-ending stream of thoughts swirled inside your head at an alarming rate, and you felt the onset of a splitting headache crawl up your temples.

“There you are, Y/N.” Yugyeom said finally, releasing a satisfied sigh and an airy laugh. He didn’t seem nearly half as surprised as you felt under these unlikely circumstances. In fact, you thought that the expression he wore on his face morphed into one of relief instead. “After so long, I finally found you.” He bent down to scoop the black puppy into his arms, leaving you utterly stunned. Before your mind could process the meaning behind his words, however, he suggested, “Let’s talk inside,”, gesturing towards the entrance of the adoption café. 

You gave him a meek nod, not daring to let out a sound on the off chance that you would stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself. With the manners of a gentleman, Yugyeom held the door open for you and waited patiently as you ushered an excited Daisy into the café filled with her furry friends. He took confident, quick strides towards the barista standing behind the counter, much like the first time he had walked into your parents’ restaurant. The way he carried himself, with an air of calm coolness, had not changed at all. You followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with his bigger steps.

“Hello, noona.” He greeted the lady, friendly and warm. “Can I please get an Iced Choco and…?” Yugyeom turned to you expectantly.

“Uh…” You started, soft and uncertain. “A peach iced tea, please.”

“No longer a coffee addict, huh?” He teased, unable to contain his toothy smile. Yugyeom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held out his card to pay. It was then that you noticed, quite belatedly, the yellow Rilakuma plaster wrapped tightly around his left index finger.

Your mind began to race. You were unbelievably happy that even after three years, he still stuck to the same brand of bandages, but at the same time, fear and anxiety gnawed and scratched against your chest. All this time, was it still happening? You wondered silently. Surely… “What’s… What’s with your,” You gestured vaguely towards his appendages. “Your finger?” You squeaked.

“Ah,” Yugyeom glanced briefly towards the yellow plaster, paying it little to no mind. “Come, sit down first, okay?”

“No,” You replied with a firm tone that you rarely used. You were a little taken aback yourself. “I’ve spent the past three years worried sick about you. Don’t you at least owe me an explanation about your most recent injury?”

Yugyeom sensed your insistence and determination, knowing that there really was no use trying to convince you otherwise. “It’s nothing to worry about, Y/N, trust me, I’ll show-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see.”

“Look, it’s just a small cut, okay?” You raised an eyebrow at his description. From memory, his definition of a small cut was miles apart from yours. He took a step closer, hoping to persuade you. “Here,” Yugyeom peeled away the sticky fabric with little difficulty, revealing a thin slit that already closed up. “See? It’s tiny. I was cooking the other day and the knife just sort of slipped and nicked my finger. I told you, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you were unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. “Kim Yugyeom? Cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Perhaps not the safest…” He admitted with an embarrassed rub of his neck, leading you towards an empty table by the windows. “I just really, really missed your mother’s food. Her naengmyeon especially. I’ve tasted every single naengmyeon in Incheon and Seoul and honestly, nothing comes close. I even tried to cook it myself but, well… You can guess how that turned out.”

“What made you think that your naengmyeon could be better than a restaurant’s?” You questioned jokingly, earning yourself a faked wince of pain from Yugyeom as he clutched the right side of his chest, the wrong side.

After that, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out of your mouths. He told you about how he caught a glimpse of your adoption papers during his interview for Dalkyum, the black puppy, and recognised your photo. He confessed that he was initially drawn to Dalkyum due to his sheer resemblance to Charcoal, to which you agreed wholeheartedly. He moved to Seoul late last year to study Fine Arts at the Korea National University of Arts, and you revealed that you were studying to become a vet. He explained how half a year after moving to Incheon, Mark had accidentally downloaded a virus onto their shared laptop while gaming, rendering it broken beyond repair. He didn’t write down your email address and thanks to his goldfish memory, he forgot the entire string of letters once Mark found a replacement.

It seemed like the more you talked to Yugyeom, the more you felt the icy shards of pain and sorrow around your heart melt away. Although, that could probably be because he was looking at you with the brightest of expressions, his mouth permanently fixed into a wide, million-watt smile.

“What do you think? Shall we start over?” You asked after a lull in the conversation, taking a sip of the soothing, saccharine liquid.

“No, I’d rather we pick up where we left off, but with a proper introduction.” He extended his arm for you to shake, which you did with a light scoff and an upturn of your lips. “Hello, my name is Kim, Yu, Gyeom. Kim for gold, Yu, which means to have, and Gyeom, as in humble or modest. It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N. You look beautiful today, as always. Did you know that? I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you, but I guess some things never change.”

“I… What…?” You sputtered hopelessly, reigniting the butterflies in your stomach. “Yugyeom, I’m literally in an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”

//

“There’s another thing that never changed, which unfortunately was also out of my control.”

“Oh no, what else, Kim?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this so late, Y/N, but sadly, you were and are my first love. And you see, the thing about first loves is that no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t-”

“Forget them.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I tried.”

“Yeah, I tried too, so hard. I guess you weren’t meant to be forgotten. Or I guess we weren’t meant to forget each other.”

“First loves stick with you like a scar that can never be fully healed.”

“Wow, look at you, Kim! I’m impressed, you’ve become so poetic.”

“From now on, I’ll only write poems for you.”

[pixie88]

Meeting the Parents pt1

Chapter 11 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’ve had this chapter in my draft for a few days now after the last chapter everything seemed to flow so well now I have 4 other chapters in my drafts eeekkk! But I will slowly release them because, some of the story lines in a couple of the chapters I’m not sure I’m going to stick with just yet. I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Light NSFW

Word Count: 2052

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

Ever since they saw Gemma he had been quiet, Laila wondered if maybe he wasn't over her? Or was it because he felt awkward he had called her his girlfriend? He had even turned her down to take a shower with him. He wanders into the kitchen where she's cooking, she too lost in thought to notice him come in.

"Laila?" He made her jump, "Sorry I was away with the fairies" she weakly smiles at him "Nice shower?" She tries to sound neutral "Yeah, thanks. Do you need any help in here?" Talking to him feels awkward it has never felt awkward not even when they were first dating she has to ask.

"Harry, what's wrong?" He's shocked she had pick up on his mood "Nothing," he shook his head, "You've been off since we saw Gem? So many things are going around in my head right now"

"Like what?" He asks "Like are you being off because you still have feelings for her?" He's shocked, he grasps her shoulder "No! No, I don't those feelings are dead and buried a long time ago! I love you!"

"Then why are you being so weird?" He sighs "Laila, I want to tell you I do.." she rolls her eyes "But you can't...Harry if you can't tell me what's wrong or why you're being so off I don't think we should meet each others parents...I'm sorry I can't sit there and pretend everything is OK when it's clearly not!"

He knows this is a big step in their relationship "I'm worried if I do I'll lose you," she let out a soft laugh "If what I told you about Josh didn't scare you away, then nothing will scare me away. I'm like chewing gum in your hair annoying and you can't get it out!" He chuckles "The thing is I'm not even a hundred percent myself"

"Is it because you called me your girlfriend? Do you wishing you could take it back?" He had forgotten about that, she's smirking at him "I don't want to take it back" he smiles at her "But you haven't asked me!" She laughs.

"Maybe I should tell you what's been bothering me before I ask you....Gemma and I split a little over a year and a half, after I found out she had been cheating on me with one of my clients. Today was the first time I saw her since we split up, when I asked her about the kid I did the calculations. Laila, I could have a son"

Laila is a bit thrown, but then she remembers what her brother Nate went through. He turns away from her "Harry?" She reaches for his arm, turning him towards her. This is the part where she ends things...or so he thought!

"Harry, will you be my boyfriend?" This was the last thing he thought she'd ask considering what he had just told her. He looks at her confused expect her to laugh, saying she was joking, but she doesn't "What?" He asks not quite believing he heard her.

"Harry Taylor, will you be my boyfriend?" She asks again "But..I just...Laila.." she cuts him off "Harry stop! Answer the question!" He can't believe he can be this lucky "I would love nothing more! This isn't a joke is it?"

She laughs, "Of course not! You told me what was bothering and whether you have a son or not I love you and having a child isn't going to change those feelings. Plus, how can I get angry over something you clearly knew nothing about! I understand my brother Nathan went through the same kinda thing he had a baby at 16 with his then girlfriend, she moved away and never told him. She was a bit of a psycho he didn't find out until she was 2 years old. We will do this together!"

His arms wrap around her as his lips capture hers, he pulls away just a little "You know you are amazing right!" She laughs "You're only just realising this! Why did I get myself a boyfriend that is so slow on the uptake" she jokes. He laughs, "Harry all I know you can't change the past, but you can improve the future. All we can do now is find out the truth and go from there"

He really can't believe this girl..Others would have run a mile or thrown a paddy, but she didn't? He guessed that's the difference between dating a woman rather than a girl. He picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder "Harry!! The dinner!!" She squealed, he turned back to the hob turning off the heated ring before making his way to her bedroom, slapping her cheek as she playfully protests.

Buzzzzz, buzzzzzzzz, buzzzzzzzzzzzz!

"HARRY!" Laila giggles as he tries to pull her back to bed while she is redressing and making a run for the door. Her parents are early they always were no matter where they went. "Hello?" She picks up the intercom "I'll buzz you up," she says as she's pulling on her underwear. Her skirt gets tucked into her lacy underwear revealing her ass cheek which has an teeth mark impression.

He smirks as he untucks her skirt he gently taps her cheek, She smirks at him as she opens the front door of the flat while smoothing over her hair. Liz walks through the door and Terry is close behind her "Mum, Dad! Hi!" Liz pulls her in for a hug before letting go "Harry, nice to see you again!" he shook her hand "Thanks, nice to see you again and you Terry"

"Like wise!" Terry nods at him, Laila secretly laughs inside, Terry was exactly the same with Josh. "Come in, would you like a drink?" Both her parents nod, Harry helps her. They take a seat at the table, "Harry, you're a personal trainer right?" Terry asks.

"Yeah, I am" Terry smiles "So, any tips on how to get rid of this beer gut?"

"I get book you in for some sessions with me...only if you want to?" Under the table, he grips Laila's hand he's nervous, his hands are sweaty. She runs her thumb over his knuckles which instantly calms him down.

"How much are these sessions?" Terry seems interested. "Erm..normally £65 a session, but I'm sure I can sort out a discount"

"Don't you think I can afford the going rate?" Terry hisses making Harry stumble on his words. When Harry isn't looking Terry winks at his daughter letting her know he's joking.

"Erm...no...I didn't mean to insult you..sorry I...think"

Terry chuckles "I'm just messing with ya! Look I'm not one of those dad's who's hard on their kids partners. I can see you make her happy and with what she's gone through in the past I'm glad she's found someone to make her sparkle again! But I will say one thing....I'm nice until you mess her about that's when you need to run!"

A bell rings from the kitchen telling Laila the dinner is ready, Harry automatically gets up to help her. "He's trained" Liz laughs, Laila tuts at her mum.

In the kitchen, Harry lets out a breath "Your dad had me then!" She laughs, "He's like that with everyone. He's friends with anyone until they cross him!"

"What will he think if he knew the truth about Gemma?" He looks worried.

"He'll be fine, if anything he'll feel sorry for you! Like I said my brother Nate didn't know he had a kid until Zeppy was nearly 2 years old! Now stop fretting until we know for sure and help me take these out"

She hands him a couple of plates.

After dinner Liz helps Harry take out the plates, leaving Laila and Terry at the table, "He seems like a nice guy, sweetie!" She's relieved he approves "He is!" Terry can see right through his daughter even when she's trying to hide it "I sense a but?"

She can't lie to her dad, he will know she's lying straight away. She looks round to the kitchen door where she can hear them loading the dishwasher.

"Laila, what is it?"

"You can't tell mum! He thinks he might be a dad"

Terry immediately looks to his daughters tummy "Not with me! We bumped into his ex today. She had a little boy with her and Harry did the sums he could be his son. I'm fine with it, but am I ready to be step mum to a kid who's if he is the dad I've been dating for only 2 months?"

Terry sighs, "Laila, if I was having this, talk with your brothers, I would tell them to run a mile, but that's only because they aren't mature enough to bring up another person's child. But you, well you have a good head on your shoulders, you love him, right?" She nods "Well, I think you will surprise yourself how well you take to it. Plus nothing set in stone yet. So, don't throw away something good for something that might be!"

"Who's ready for dessert?" Harry calls out as he comes into the dining room with his homemade cheesecake.

Terry winks at his daughter, she knows he's right...he always is.

"So how long have you two been dating?" Liz asks the pair.

"Well, he stalked me at work, then stole a business card after the stag weekend"

"Determination! That's what I like to see!" Terry jokes.

"See told you it wasn't stalking!" Harry bumps his shoulder with hers, she rolled her eyes at him.

"Terry stalked me! I had bumped into him at the local corner shop where we lived, I was in my school uniform 16 at the time, he was 18. We got talking then the following day he was outside my school ready to walk me home. Unbeknown to him I only lived 2 streets!" Liz laughs.

"Hey, they say chivalry is dead now a days. So, count yourself lucky" Terry jokes.

"Not completely dead" Laila winks at Harry, who blushes "This one wouldn't let me get the tube alone...twice!"

Liz coos from across the table "I've told you about that too! So, thanks Harry!" Terry tuts at his daughter.

Harry smirks at her "We'll have to have everyone round for dinner so you can officially meet the rest of the family!" Liz saying excited.

"Yes, her 3 older brothers" Harry smiles awkwardly.

"I'll have a word with them, so they lay off you," Terry winks, Harry had his full approval "Do you any siblings?"

Harry nods "3 older brothers and a younger sister. Laila has already met one brother and my sister"

She laughs remembering Arthur had came to the stag weekend and that night had met Izzy "Ah yes! Izzy! I thought you were on another date!" She hadn't told him this.

He seemed shocked "Sorry to break it to you darling, I'm a one woman man. Even when we aren't official" She rolls her eyes at him.

"Are you two official yet?" Liz asks, Laila nods "This afternoon actually mum!" Liz claps over excited.

"Yes, your daughter is a 21st century woman she asked me!"

"She always did know what she wants and how to get it!" Terry laughs.

"Well, I did say I love you first! Bit of a theme there" she winks.

Terry chuckles "She knows her own mind!"

Later they are in bed "Do you think your parents liked me?"

"I think you won them over straight away, they can see how happy you make me and how much I love you so they approve"

He pulls her on top of him "I hope they saw how much I love you too" he smiles.

"I think they did! Harry, are you going to speak to Gemma?"

"I was thinking about speaking to her tomorrow, the sooner I know the truth the better"He pulls her lips to his.

~*~*~*~

The next morning

He rang the door bell, his heart was in his throat, he's 50/50.

One side he kinda hopes he is his son, but on the other he hopes he's not.

The door opens, she's surprised "Harry, what...." he cuts her off "Is he mine?!"

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 12

@lem-20​ @shewillreadyou​ @secretaryunpaid​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​ @txemrn​ @casualpostqueen​ @tea-me-kah​ @shannonwrote​ @fanjessfic​

[astraeagreengrass]

this is me trying [the woods 3/4]

You make a decision and Steve takes a chance

Word Count: 4.848

Warnings: angst, mentions of sickness, mentions of death and death-related themes, alcohol, curse words

A/N: This chapter is filled with Taylor Swift references - I would love to know which ones you guys find and what are your expectations for the final part of this story! Many thanks to the beautiful @xbuchananbarnes​ for your help with this one. The banner picture was found here. Dividers are from @writeyourmindaway​. I hope you like it ♡

pulled the car off the road to the lookout could've followed my fears all the way down and maybe i don't quite know what to say but i'm here in your doorway i just wanted you to know that this is me trying

There is a place in Pennsylvania, a few miles past the old Swift Christmas Tree Farm, where a careful rider might notice a path off the side of the highway. If he chooses to follow this gravel road, he’ll find himself flanked by Eastern Hemlocks and Red Cedars, whose branches tangle together and the leaves whisper secrets like sisters do. “She’s here”, they’ll say. “She’s home”. At the end of this lane, the rider will encounter a house, and a gale will blow in the heart of the woods, announcing the good news to all of the forest: their child was home.

Steve turned off his motorcycle. When the rumble quieted, you heard some Blue Jays singing in the distance. Your lower back complained when you stretched, yet your boyfriend appeared completely unperturbed by the long ride.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, gaze circling the clearing, going from the house made of stone and wood to the trees surrounding it.

The door opened and an older woman skipped down the porch steps. You’d seen her a mere three weeks ago, yet your grandmother somehow looked older, more fragile. The disease was taking its toll on her body, causing her to be out of breath when she hugged you.

“You’re not supposed to run, grandma,” you chidded. She was shorter than you, shoulders slumped by age and illness, but you still hid your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the gentle scent of home and family.

“Can you at least say hello before you start scolding me?” she replied, wrinkled hands grabbing each side of your face, as if to assess any damage. “Being in love suits you, darling. You look beautiful!”

You flustered, lips opening up in a perfect, embarrassed pout, but she was unfazed, shifting her attention to the other guest.

“You must be Steve!”, she beamed. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Your grandmother kissed both of Steve’s cheeks, leaving him stunned.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he cleared his throat, a soft pink blush crawling up his cheeks.

“Oh, no!” she dismissed him. “Please call me Meredith. Now, come inside. You must be tired from the journey.”

She waved you into the house, up the rickety wooden stairs and past the veranda whose railings you used to perch on to catch raindrops with your tongue.

“I’m so happy you could join us for Thanksgiving, Steve,” Meredith said as the three of you crossed the threshold. “Did you know it’s Y/N’s favorite holiday?”

“Grandma!” you reprimanded.

“What?” she raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence.

You raised your own, a silent warning for her not to at least wait until dinner to start with the embarrassing stories. Thankfully, he was oblivious to the quiet exchange.

The house reminded Steve of a cabin he stayed with his ma in upstate New York for a few months when he was eight, after a doctor suggested that the mountain air might be good for his lungs. He remembered the whistle of a train, it's red wagons gleaming brightly under the spring light, and the way it sped through fields and forests, almost to the beat of his racing heart. He remembered the smell of grass and the buzz of the cicadas singing in the late afternoon. He remembered going back to the city after his birthday and telling Bucky that the woods were magical.

The memories flowed through his bloodstream as he entered your home. The front door revealed a small living room that someone - that undoubtedly looked a lot like Tony Stark - might call cramped, but Steve thought it was cozy. Knit blankets were thrown over a cream-colored couch sitting opposite a built-in-the-wall fireplace. Across from the entrance, a large window overlooked a glittering pond and, behind the couch, there was a bookshelf overflowing with volumes, portraits and trinkets. A staircase, which he supposed was as rickety as the one outside, led to the second floor.

"You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Y/L/N," he complimented, in a voice that sounded somewhat distant to his ears, as though muffled by nostalgia.

"Meredith!" your grandmother corrected him, clearly pleased by the compliment. "And thank you! My husband and I moved here in the 1990's after he retired from the Military. We did some renovations back then, and I suppose it's time I do it again, but oh well..."

She trailed off, fast feet scurrying to the kitchen in a silent order for you to follow her, yet Steve turned to you:

"Your grandfather was in the Army?"

"Yep. My dad, too," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"You never told me that," he pointed out.

You sighed: "I know."

"Why?"

His hands went to his waist, in that defensive stance you knew all too well, and his jawline clenched in frustration.

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, saving you from answering - at least for now.

"It's Fury," you showed him the screen. "I have to take this."

You turned, bolting outside before Steve could protest.

He exhaled, rubbing his eyes furiously. Hearing the soft tinkling of glasses coming from the kitchen, he trailed your grandmother's footsteps.

"Would you like some sweet tea, Steve?" she smiled.

He nodded, thanking her as he took the glass. Meredith groaned as she sat at the dinner table and Steve's heart squeezed in his chest. Theoretically, the woman was younger than he was, yet their bodies - and their lives - were many decades apart.

"She didn't tell you about them, did she?" Meredith asked, contemplating him with eyes just like yours.

Steve shook his head.

"Please, don't be mad at her. It's a hard subject for Y/N," the woman said. "Would you get that picture frame for me, please?"

With a bony finger, Meredith pointed at a double portrait sitting at the countertop: Both pictures showed young men in military garb, but one was noticeably older than the other, in black and white with sepia coloring the edges.

"John and Michael," she said, cradling the portrait as one would an infant. "John and I met in Japan. My father was a veteran from the Pacific, and in the late 50’s the Navy stationed him in Okinawa. So, long story short, I was this rebellious daughter of a high-ranking officer who wanted nothing to do with wars and the military and John was a good boy from Pensylvannia drafted to fight in Vietnam. Still, we fell in love, eloped and I moved to Philly while pregnant with Michael, but John only joined us in 1972.”

“Wow,” Steve smiled genuinely. “That’s incredible.”

“It is,” Meredith nodded. “And he was an incredible man. Earned all the medals he was honored with. He made it to Sergeant Major, you know? But when Michael made the decision to join S.H.I.E.L.D, John retired.”

"Y/N’s father was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent?" Steve gaped.

Meredith pursed her lips.

"My husband was a righteous man. He believed his institutions and he loved them. And Michael, like everyone that knew John, admired his father and his career. So, like any boy in his position, Michael enlisted. But he was different… I think he liked the thrill, the adrenaline rush that came with the danger.

"I'm not entirely sure how or when he joined S.H.I.E.L.D., but one evening he left Y/N on our doorstep, saying that it would be best for her if she stayed with us from then on," she continued. "He visited very little after that."

Despite the brisk autumn weather, Steve's glass of sweet tea was wet with perspiration, as if the tales he'd just heard were so alive in this house they could manifest themselves in the air, in an introduction to the absent characters.

"What happened then?" he asked, unsure if he wanted an answer.

“Well," Meredith sighed. "The official report said an IED hit his convoy in Iraq, but shortly before he left Michael said he was going to Northern Europe, so…”

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

"I know," your grandmother said, and she meant it. If anyone could share her pain of losing too much to the military, it was Steve Rogers. "I know you do."

She slid her forearm across the table and squeezed his hand gently. There was so much kindness in her gaze that Steve nearly cried.

"It's not my place to meddle in your relationship," she said. "You're both adults. But please be careful with my granddaughter, Steve. She has a lot of love to give, she just doesn't know that."

Behind Meredith's frame, her bright yellow headscarf catching the light coming through the open window, Steve could see you pacing back and forth in the lawn with your phone in your ear. Tiny specks of dust glinted where the luminesce was brighter and in his mind they were the pieces of your puzzle, coming together for him like a gift from the extraordinary place you called home. He always thought you belonged at the Triskelion, sitting behind a computer or looking down at a tablet, cracking digital enigmas as fast as he could draw his next breath, but what a lovely mistake this was.

Maybe he was high on the sugar from the sweet tea, or maybe he just desperately wanted a piece of the love your grandmother told him about, but Steve thought about black holes - those wondrous forces of nature he learned about on TV a few weeks ago while cuddling you on the couch. Like a black hole, your gravity was so strong that nothing - not the grass, not the leaves, not a single fiber of Steve Roger's being - could escape your hold.

The woods were a small universe, and you were it's center.

The last of the boxes was emptied on Christmas Day.

It had snowed in the evening, leaving a light dust of white covering the grounds outside. If the temperature kept on lowering, the pond might freeze by January. When you opened the final cardboard package and found your old ice skates, you thought you should fix the rusted blades in case that happened. Or perhaps not. You were never the most skilled skater and there was no else here to drive you to the ER in case you broke your arm - it wouldn't be the first time.

For years, the house in the woods sat quiet - some during which the three-hour journey proved perfect for your grief to turn the car around and give up visiting and others when you were declared as dead as your ancestors. It was in urgent need of repairs, filled with the belongings you packed after your grandmother’s passing, but never found the courage to give away. But the heat was working. That would be enough for now.

"Are you sure you're going back there?" your cousin asked as you finished loading the car with your things. There wasn't much - your furniture was sold with the apartment and most of your clothes were moth-eaten and frayed from their long stint at a cramped storage unit.

"I've taken up your space for too long," you said. Olivia was your cousin from your mother's side, and like everyone from that part of your family, you shared little to none connection. You'd gone to her out of desperation, because you'd rather stay with your far-flung cousin after returning from the dead than with your not-so-ex-boyfriend who left you two - or was it seven? - years prior and you were extraordinarily glad she took you in. But like it always happened with your mother's family, it became too much, too soon. "Besides, it's time for me to move on."

Olivia hugged you before you drove away and it was stiff and awkward. You wouldn't miss her and you were sure she wouldn't either.

You programmed the GPS on your phone, but somewhere past Newark, you realized with a start that you were always one step ahead of it. It was like the way home was ingrained in your heart, despite the new buildings and the fresh pavement. It went beyond street lights and stop signs, following a map made of veins and arteries, rather than just paper and ink.

Rain started pouring heavily when you reached Reading and you nearly missed the gravel road off the side of the highway, but it was there, as unperturbed as the forest encircling it. As a child, you'd give them names and personalities, and dream up conversations they'd have with each other - Betty and Inez, the Hemlock twins; James, the Red Cedar; sweet Rebekah, the Sugar Maple. It felt stupid, but you wondered if they'd left too, like you did. If when the snap came, their soul was dusted from the bark, leaving nothing but trunk and root.

"No," you muttered to yourself. They'd stayed. They'd stayed and guarded the woods.

The first three days were daunting. You'd sleep until noon and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to book tickets to wherever in the world you thought would be the perfect place to start over, but something invisible always held you back from actually buying. On the fourth day, you emailed the lawyer, asking about the possibility of putting the house for sale. On the fifth day, while rearranging the boxes, you tripped and they fell, spilling hundreds of pictures on the timbered floor.

When you bent down to collect them, the first face you noticed was your father. He had a wide, carefree smile as he gently held you standing on a chair. You were looking down at a cake, where a big candle shaped like a "3" was lit up. You tiny hands were clapping, and your father looked at you with all the love in the world.

You never doubted his love as a child. You just didn't understand why he wouldn't visit often or why he couldn't have a job like the other kids' dads - a job that kept him close so he could tell you that he loved you, instead of whispering it in a forehead kiss every few months. As an adult, you still didn't doubt it - but you knew that he loved his job more. Still, seeing the affection so clear on his face was comforting.

An older, gray-haired, version of your father smiled in another picture - your grandfather. He was wearing a flannel shirt and a blue cap, and he held you on your shoulders. You remembered that it terrified you to swing in the air as he lifted you, but the moment he placed you on his back, you relaxed.

“Don’t ever let me fall, grandpa,” you’d beg, little hand clasped tightly around his.

"Never, sweet pea," he'd promise.

Behind the photograph, your grandmother had written: "John and Y/N. Summer, 1994".

She was notably absent from most of the pictures, you noticed. They must’ve been taken around the time she became interested in photography, and would spend hours experimenting with a Kodak she got at the flea market. You, on the other hand, was the perfect model - posing at the swing, by the pond, with your legs crossed in the big armchair, always smiling, always happy.

You didn’t remember this particular box from when you organized the house after her death. The photographs must’ve been stored away for nearly a decade, judging by the dust that covered them. There were albums, as well - Y/N’s first birthday, Y/N’s first school day, Y/N’s first trip to the beach - but the amount of pictures was so abundant that most were kept loose.

Dusk came and went, and, on the dawn of the sixth day, you made the decision to unpack the house.

You started with the kitchen - crystal glasses, the porcelain dish set your grandparents got as a marriage present and the beautiful Portuguese pottery. The living room came next with the books, portraits and an elaborate scheme to clean the hearth of the fireplace that you immediately regretted. You moved the furniture around the upper floor to the point you thought the ceiling might collapse, but eventually you managed to turn the mattress and push the queen bed to the window side of the master bedroom.

And when you found your old ice skates, tangled with an ancient string of Christmas light, you decided to hang them in the mantelpiece. Some of the tiny light bulbs were burnt or broken, bathing the room in a messy, uneven golden glow.

Like you, you thought. Damaged, but perhaps you could still shine again.

During the time you spent tidying up the house, you tried your best to ignore the nagging sensation that maybe this was a mistake. That wistfulness shouldn’t grow roots and boxes should stay closed, just like the dead stay dead. But you hadn’t. And when your fists crushed the last piece of cardboard, you wept. Not because you were haunted, but because you were wrong. You thought returning home would be haunting, that you would see your grandparents at every nook and corner, but you were mistaken. The creak of the wooden steps, the marks on the door frame for every inch you grew, the soft slope of the book bindings in the shelf - all of it brought back only the most generous memories of your childhood, and you basked in the newfound revelation that they were filled with a love so strong and abundant that it drowned even loud noise of absence.

You missed your grandparents, almost to the point of desperation, but there was a fondness in your grief now, because you were finally safe, in the home they built for you.

With the realization, came the decision. So in the space between Christmas and the New Years, you made three phone calls:

One for a therapist’s office in Reading, scheduling an appointment for the second week of January.

One for the bank in Switzerland where you'd wired all the money you made in your profitable years at S.H.I.E.L.D.

And one for a contractor, who, after much cajoling and the promise of advanced payment, agreed to start your renovations in early 2024.

Despite the state-of-the-art acoustics of Stark Tower, Tony’s buoyant countdown to the New Year was drowned out by the large crowd gathered outside, waiting for the Times Square’s ball drop.

The excited cheers rattled the bullet proof glass of the windows and the comforting press of Steve’s palm on your lower back tightened as the seconds closed in on midnight. Gentle finger - too gentle for a soldier - took your chin, angling your head towards his. Your hands wrapped around his shoulder, mindful of the crystal flute halfway filled with bubbly champagne.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he whispered right before he kissed you. It was slow, just the calm press of his lips and easy flicks of his tongue, the sweet lingering taste of Asgardian mead. A hand cradled the back of your head and you sighed, pushing your body further into his.

And like a firework show, it burned too fast, too brightly - sparkling in the starless night before fading away in thunderous applause.

“For a man who saved the world, you look awfully glum.”

Steve let out a dry laugh.

“How should I look, then?” he asked before taking a swig of his beer. He was well into his fourth bottle, but it wasn’t like the alcohol had any effect on him.

“Less miserable, maybe?” Bucky shrugged, plopping down next to Steve on the couch. He raised his own beer bottle: “I can’t believe how fast the refrigerator worked!”

“You spent two years in Wakanda, Buck. Modern technology shouldn't surprise you as much."

“I spent two years in Wakanda in a hut," Bucky retorted. "Besides, for all the greatness of hovercrafts and magnetic shields, there's just something so fantastic about chilling a beer in half an hour..."

“I can’t wait for when you finally master the art of the microwave,” Steve snickered.

“They’re confusing, ok?” Bucky grumbled.

They settled in comfortable silence, watching a blonde popstar perform at the New Year's Eve concert in Times Square. She was halfway through a beautiful rendition of Robbie Williams’ Angels when Bucky spoke again.

"Did you call her?" he asked. "Your girl?"

Steve hadn't told Bucky about you, but he knew. He'd seen you at Natasha's memorial service and he noticed the way his best friend got home afterwards, as well as his sullen mood in the weeks that followed.

In their youth, Steve always mocked Bucky's easy infatuations. "You can't live out of love affairs, Buck," he'd say and Bucky would roll his eyes. He lived for the hot rush of blood flushing his skin in the dark, hot corners of a speakeasy as lips trickled his ear or fingernails scratched his scalp. He longed for the soft brush of fingers circling a wrist or the bump of noses before hungry mouths met. And in his juvenile ignorance, Bucky thought his life would be too short to just no have them all - so he had them.

When the war came, Bucky believed Steve had found his match with Peggy. They were complimentary in every way - both righteous, stubborn, never backing down from a fight. And what a fight it was - so grand, so terrible, so cold. There was no room for love or heartbreak those days, only combat. Steve and Peggy's courtship was a promise, meant for better times - but they never really came.

The friend Bucky encountered in 2016 was different - still tenacious and daring, but almost to the point of recklessness. Steve wasn't satisfied in snuffing out the fires, he ignited them now. Their experiences awakening in this new world were much different, but Bucky supposed they were the same kind of nearly maddening decipherment. Besides, he may have his doubts about himself, but not about Steve Rogers.

Bucky Barnes knew a broken heart when he saw one.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her," Steve muttered.

"You don't have to apologize," Bucky said. "I am curious, though. Sam wouldn't tell me anything."

Steve chuckled.

"Of course not. Her name is Y/N,," he started. "We met when I went to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. She was an intelligence agent, so we were always working together and… She is so smart, funny, kind and beautiful, Buck. Everyone was walking on eggshells around me, meanwhile she was giving me shit for not knowing who Beyoncé was."

"Who's Beyoncé?" Bucky asked.

"The greatest performer in the world," Steve stated. "Anyway, we became friends and after a few months, I asked her if she wanted to go on a date."

"You did?" Bucky gasped.

"I was a mess," Steve groaned. "You would've given me so much shit about it. But she said yes! And then we had a second date, a third date, a fourth date… She was the one that found out about you."

"She did?"

Steve nodded, tearing the wet label of his beer.

"She uncovered Hydra's plot inside S.H.I.E.L.D. - Pierce, Project Insight, you. After the fallout, Fury managed to take most of the blame, if you can even call it that, but she still had to testify before Congress. They treated her like some kind of criminal. By then I was already back in New York, living in the Tower, working with the Avengers again. Tony was really impressed with her work so we offered her a job."

"And did she say yes?" Bucky asked.

"She wanted to go to school, learn something new. Find another trade, any trade that didn't involve secrets and conspiracies, but I begged her to accept the position. And not for the right reasons."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N was - is - incredibly resourceful. And I wanted to find you, find Loki's scepter, punch bad guys, save the world. I wanted to be a superhero and I knew that with her I could. I felt secure in her abilities and secure in her affections. She was my safe zone, but I don’t think I was hers - or at least I don’t think I let her know that. We weren't perfect but we were fine, I think, until the Accords happened. She wasn’t a signatary, but she agreed with Tony and Natasha and that felt like the worst kind of betrayal. The night before Peggy’s funeral we had a massive fight. I called her a coward, said…” Steve hesitated.

“Said what?” Bucky coaxed.

Steve exhaled heavily. “I said that Peggy would’ve never done that to me.”

“Jesus, Stevie,” Bucky sighed, running a hand through his newly cut hair. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” Steve said, but acknowledging it after all was said and done was useless. “I left for London that night without saying goodbye. And then… Everything happened.”

“Did you contact her at all while you were away?” Bucky asked.

Steve didn’t reply, but the answer was clear in his quietude. "Sometimes silence is louder than sound," you used to say. He finished off his beer, dropping the empty bottles on the coffee table with a thud.

“When Vision was attacked in Edinburgh and we brought him to the Compound I actually thought I’d see her there, you know?” he confessed. “Like it was all a bad dream and I’d find her waiting for me like she always did. But the computers were turned off, the jacked she kept on the back of her chair was gone. It was like she was never there.”

He continued: “So I went to her apartment - our apartment - and I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I was the coward, not her, never her. I was the worst kind of bastard, showing up unannounced after vanishing for years, as if I had a right to any of her answers…”

His breath hitched and Steve rubbed his eyes furiously. Bucky put his own beer down and pat his friend on the back.

“You couldn’t have known what would happen next, Steve,” he said. “That is not a guilt you should carry.”

“I can’t erase the image of her sitting in that hospital bed, Buck,” Steve croaked. “She was so lost and scared. I keep thinking that, even if everything was the same - Thanos, the snap, those five fucking pathetic years - if I’d just been braver, we’d be together now. The worst part of everything is that I let her think she meant nothing to me.”

“Where is she now?”

“At her childhood home in Pennsylvania. After Nat's funeral, she told me she needed to figure out what to do with her life, but she'd let me know once she decided,” Steve said. “Somehow I don’t think her plans include me.”

Bucky sighed.

“So you’re just going to quit?”

Steve frowned. “Quit?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “After everything, is this how the two of you will end?"

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. Bucky thought he looked like a big blonde dumb fish flapping in the wooden Red Hook docs he used to work at.

"I don't… Know?," he muttered hesitatingly.

"Clearly," Bucky snorted. "Pal, the guy I used to be is long gone. Hell, I might be the worst person to give out advice, but if you ask me, it sounds pretty stupid to sit here sulking while the only girl who's ever loved you for who you are is out there making plans that may or may not include you."

Steve perked up.

"You think I should go after her?"

"I think you should try," Bucky said. "First you left her, and then she Snapped. Her mind must be a mess! She has every reason to be confused, sad and especially angry, but you need to let her know that she's not alone."

Steve understood then: why it took so long for you to share your secrets and open your heart. Why you hated when he left for missions and the smallest of his wounds made you cry. Why you'd sometimes cling to him in the middle of the night.

"Don't leave me alone, Stevie," you begged once after your screams startled him conscious and he had to shake you awake from your nightmare.

"Never, sweetheart," he promised. But he failed you.

He craned his head, gaze finding his motorcycle keys hanging next to the door. If the snow wasn't too heavy, he could be in Pennsylvania in less than three hours.

"Please be careful with my granddaughter, Steve."

"Maybe wait until morning?" Bucky suggested, noticing where Steve's eyes had landed. "I'm presuming girls still like their beauty sleep, so maybe show up at her door at a reasonable hour?"

Steve laughed then, a real laugh.

"How did I spend eighty years without you, Buck?"

Bucky smiled.

"Trust me, pal. I have no idea."

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//nine years time. kuroo tetsurou//

Request: Hello can you write royal kuroo promising y/n when he comes back they will both marry. But it has been 9 years and y/n married someone else to finish their duty as a royal. Then a month later kuroo comes back.

Warnings: none???

Word Count: 2.2K

Notes: hi yes i love you. please drink lots of water, okay?

“I won’t be long, I promise.  A year at the most and then,” he raised your hand up towards his lips, placing a lingering kiss against the skin of your knuckles before continuing, “we can finally get married, just like we’ve always wanted.”

The war had been waging for far too long, but with the kingdom’s final move on the horizons, it was only a matter of time before this would all be settled and an air of peace would once again fall over your home.  You should’ve been happy, ecstatic even, that everything would go back to how it used to be before this entire conflict started, but the young man in front of you, that you had been so captivated by from the first time that you met, was about to leave to stand with his military.  After all, some member of the royal family had to be present to negotiate the peace treaty and with his father becoming too old and frail to make the journey, it only made sense that the prince should take his place.

But, the goodbyes and the warm feeling of Tetsurou’s hand engulfing yours nearly brought tears to your eyes.  He was still going away to war and that title of “prince” just added a bigger target to his back.  And even if it was only going to be for a year, those days would seem like an eternity as you waited for his letters and counted the weeks to his return.  

“You’ll wait for me?” Tetsurou asked, raising his hand to lay it gently against your cheek.

“I’ll wait as long as I must to be with you, my prince.”

But, that first year had ended with a letter announcing that things had not gone to plan.  They would be staging a siege to cut off the supply lines of the enemy, but there was no telling how long they would be there, waiting for a surrender.  

Hopefully they will see that their efforts are futile and I will be able to return to you quickly.  I miss you more with every passing day and I want nothing more to have you in my arms once again.

Take care, my love, and I will see you soon.

K. Tetsurou

By the end of the second year, the letters had slowed.  Monthly letters now came at a snail’s pace of one every few months.  And by the third year, they had stopped all together.  No matter how many letters that you penned to your prince so far away, there was never anything in return.  It was only after the fourth year that you stopped trying to reach him, giving up and letting the worst possible outcome consume you.  

It was really the only logical outcome that your brain could come up with.  If he was still alive, he would’ve written to you.  He wouldn’t have just ignored all of your letters.  He would’ve gotten in touch with you somehow.  The loss of the kingdom’s prince, your first and only love, was the only explanation.  And it tore you to pieces.  He was meant to come back to you, officially make you his.  Tetsurou was supposed to meet you in town when he rode back in with the rest of the troops and give you the kiss that you had been waiting so long for.  But, there was none of that and there never would be any of that, because he was gone and he wasn’t coming back.  

The fifth year without him was the worst.  You found yourself struggling to carry out your day to day tasks, unable to see the purpose in carrying on if he wasn’t able to be there to give you tender kisses on your temple at the end of the day and hold you tightly within his arms.  There would be days when you would see something that was so distinctly Tetsurou that you would quickly turn around and hastily walk in the opposite direction so that no one could see the way your eyes glistened with tears that wished to fall.  You would lie awake and read his final letter to you over and over again, skimming your fingers across his name as if that would be enough to bring him back to you.  You would anxiously wait for the mail every single day in the off chance that maybe, just maybe, this would be the day in which a letter would come announcing his return.  But there was never anything apart from the occasional invitation to a ball or a letter from a friend that only brought sorrow to your heart when you realized that it wasn’t the letter that you were hoping for.  

But, it was year six when you met him.  The man with the bright smile and the shining eyes.  The man with the most cheery laugh that you had ever heard.  He had spun you around the ballroom for what seemed like hours, telling you stories about his travels, cracking jokes in an effort to see you smile all over again.  Yes, Bokuto Koutarou had made you feel something that had been void from your life since the letters stopped coming.  The way that he gripped onto your hands in excitement as he asked you for yet another dance had your heart fluttering as you nodded your head.  You were barely able to get a yes out before he was dragging you back out towards the center of the dance floor, giving you a low bow as the music began.  

In that sixth year, he had made you happier than you had been in a very long time.  There wasn’t a moment of sadness when he was there to brighten your day, his smile more contagious than the plague, and a heart that had the capability of producing such raw and honest emotions.  He was so intoxicating that you found yourself thinking of the prince that had originally stolen your heart far less than usual.  Whether you were awake or asleep, Bokuto consumed your thoughts, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain one bit.  

Because in the seventh year, when he was given your parents’ blessing and he asked for your hand in marriage, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying yes, thoughts of finally being able to marry a man that you loved so wholly bringing a smile so wide that it pained your cheeks.  But, it was also in that year that you found yourself sitting down at your desk in front of a piece of parchment, a quill sitting next to a bottle of ink.  In year seven, you drafted your final letter to Kuroo Tetsurou, a goodbye to set your mind at ease, to be able to guiltlessly move forward with your life.

Tetsurou,

I hope that this letter finds you well.  It has been much too long since I have last had the pleasure of hearing from you.  Perhaps the war has needed your full attention over these past few years and, if that is the case, then I cannot blame you for not taking the time to write to me.  But, there is something that I wish to tell you.  

Seven years ago, I made a promise to you.  Do you remember that?  I promised that I would wait as long as I must to be with you, to finally be able to marry you.  But, I am afraid that today I have broken that promise to you for I have accepted a marriage proposal from another man, one that makes me as happy as you did.  He brings me a feeling of happiness that I only ever felt with you. 

My prince, I waited as long as I could.  But, the silence had worn down on me to the point that it was unbearable.  I had waited in sorrow for a letter that never came and when I needed a light the most, he was there, shining brighter than any star in the galaxy.  I hope that you will forgive me and I wish you all of the best in your future.

Best,

Y/N

And you had folded up a letter with the name of a man who would never read it, but still, when the day broke the horizon the next morning, you met the postman at the door, a piece of folded parchment in your hand, a letter that would fall on deaf ears.  

It wasn’t until the eighth year after Tetsurou’s leave that you took a new last name.  You found happiness in Koutarou, a sense of peace that only he could offer.  His joyful laughter echoed through the walls of his manor as he lifted you from the ground, spinning the both of you around and around until he was sure that he would collapse as the room continued to spin even after he was sure that his feet had stopped.  But, he couldn’t have been happier.  Being here, in a home that had felt so lonely for a long time, now with someone that he loved more than anything in the world, Bokuto wasn’t sure that there was anything that could’ve made his life better.  

It was also in that eighth year that Bokuto realized that there was one thing that could make his world even brighter and it came in the form of a small bump that you carried with you everywhere you went.  His little bump.  A child that unified you better than any wedding band or string of vows ever could.  Everytime that he would look at you with your growing stomach, he could feel his heart swell, a new sense of pride filling his chest at the idea of becoming a father to his beautiful little baby.  

In year nine, the two of you became parents to a precious baby girl that had Koutarou wrapped around her finger from the very minute she was born.  With his wide golden eyes and silver locks, she was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined.  It was as if after all of your years of turmoil, the gods were blessing you with the perfect life that you had always envisioned, but a different man was by your side rather than the one that you had always pictured as the father of your children, your loving husband.  Yet, despite your life not turning out exactly how you had planned, there was nothing that you wanted to change.  You were finally happy and at peace with losing your first love.

But a letter had arrived in the mail.  One that announced that the war had finally drawn to a close and that the troops would be arriving home the following week.  

“It would be nice to go.  We could see the soldiers back and then we can go visit the shops downtown, stop for lunch, and do whatever else you’d like for the rest of the day,” Koutarou suggested, laying the letter down on the dining table.  “But, we obviously don’t have to go!  If it may upset you, then maybe we shouldn’t,” he added quickly.”

“Koutarou, please.  You have nothing to worry about.  I’ve come to terms with his death a long time ago.  I think a day in town would be perfect.”  You smiled warmly, laying your hand over his, letting him lace his fingers with yours.

There were very few things that you were expecting after nine years, but the look on Kuroo Tetsurou’s face when he laid eyes on you that day, the returning troops at his back, was unforgettable.  There had been an all too familiar sense of longing in his expression when he had initially recognized your form, but when his brain registered the man who had a protective arm wrapped around you and the small bundle of blankets in your arms, the adoration had fallen from his eyes only to be replaced by a sad look in his eyes, one unlike something you had ever seen cross his face.  The prince that you had fallen in love with all of those years ago, now looked like he had aged 20 years, whether it be from the stress of war or from the realization that his one love had continued moving forward in their life, even he wasn’t sure.

Yet, despite everything in his body telling him no, Tetsurou dismounted from his horse, long legs carrying him easily over the distance that kept you from him.  It was in that ninth year that Kuroo Tetsurou was careless and crashed his lips against your own, a desire to pull you closer to him and finally feel your body against his that had been stopped by a baby.  A baby that started crying when Tetsurou’s body bumped against it.  A cry that snapped him back to reality and had him pulling away from you.  Remembering that the child in your arms was not his.  Remembering that after nine long years, you were no longer his.  

[ldyinblckmsk]

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto X GN! Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1k

A/N: Hey guys! welp this is my first time finishing a story. Yep, I'm a sucker for angst. I have so many plots in mind and all of them were just sleeping in my drafts ugh. This may not be a good one but I'm quite proud of myself for writing this one. I hope this gets attention ohmygod. Enjoy!

I wanted to make ya'll cry, so listen with this song.

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Everything is a blur. You were just outside of your house, sitting at the floor in your front porch with another can of beer on your hand. Crumbs of chips are everwhere on the floor together with five cans of beer that was making a mess. The cold breeze of the night makes you shiver and the alcohol isn't enough to warm you. It's not like you don't want to go inside your house. You just can't.

Because today seems like the devil is casting you a curse with ridiculous bad lucks you encountered, enjoying your torments as you make fool of yourself. Burning your liver with the bitter concoction as your mind wandering to the sole reason why you were out of yourself lately.

You didn't even know how you end up with a cellphone in your hand, dialing a familiar number as you squint your eyes trying to clear your vision. You found yourself laughing as you tried to copy the ringing of your phone while waiting for him to pick up.

Todoroki is surprised when he saw your number on the screen. He thought that you already deleted his contact when the two of you called it off last month. Confused as to why you're calling him at 3 AM, he picked up his phone, eyes still adjusting in the dark.

"Hello?"

On the third ring, you nearly jumped when you heard his calm and deep voice, excitement course through every veins in your body. His groggy voice gave away that you woke him up. Heart beating than the usual rhythm against your rib cage, you exhaled the air you didn't know you were holding before you speak.

"Hey!" You cringed when you heard your voice rising its pitch. Oh shit, that sounds like a mouse that had been caught in a trap!

"I'm glad you picked up, Shou." You giggled at the cute nickname, slurring some words that gives him a hint that you're drinking. You're drunk to the point that you're doing things that you'll regret when you wake up. "I thought you're not going to answer me hmp." You pout, your cringey childish self showing up.

"Y/n?" He's confused, checking his phone if it's really your number who called him and not some teenager's prank.

"It's already late. Why are you still up?" His concerned voice makes your heart clench.

"I want your hugs right now, Shou."

"Hey, did something happened? Are you okay?" You shushed him, shaking your head. "I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you that I missed you and I'm sorry."

"I missed our lazy date nights. I missed your cuddles. I missed the smell of your cologne. I missed how you ruffles my hair while you placed a kiss on my forehead. I missed wearing your hoodies..."

You let your drunken self take over you allowing yourself to verbalize all your true feelings you've been hiding.

"I missed you, love." You bitterly smiled at the endearment you used. It brings back thousands of memories you didn't want to forget but you didn't want to also remember either. It's just there locked in a box somewhere in your heart but you're conversation with him released all of it. And every single of them pricked your heart like needles.

The bi-colored hair man didn't know what to say. Hell, he can't even think properly. You're drunk and you're telling him your sober thoughts. He thought you're completely over with him, seeing you smiling while you're hanging out with your friends like nothing happened broke him apart. And yet here you are confessing to him.

"C-can I go see you?"

"No." You were taken aback with his immediate reply. Nodding to yourself as you let out a chuckle. You're proud to yourself that you're still not crying, always so good at hiding your emotions.

"It's late, go to sleep." His voice is cold and distant. But you didn't let it affect you as you shoot your shot again.

"I-I'll bring lots of your favorite soba. Cold ones are always perfect, right? Just wait, I'll get a ta—" He cuts you off. You heard a painful sigh from the other line.

"Y/n, We...already broke up." Hearing those words makes the alcohol in your body immediately disappear. With those sentence, you instantly sober up. "We broke up. Month ago."

He repeated like he's trying to make you remember it. It was just a misunderstanding. He's aloof and oblivious personality didn't understand your outbursts. You did trust him but his constant hanging out with Momo riled up your insecurities. And funny how they are a couple now.

"Yeah and I'm wasted." You chuckled as you began to cry, quietly, biting the inside of your cheeks while trying to control your emotions.

"Don't come here. You need to sleep. Drink lots of water when you wake up. We'll talk tomorrow–"

You cut him off before he hangs up, hands fiddling the hem of your shirt. "You know... it's been a rough day. Everyone's being mean to me."

Silence answers you but you still continue ranting to him. "I nearly got fired for standing up for myself when a customer throws her coffee on me because I accidentally messed up her order. T-then, I-I lost my fucking keys and it's cold."

"I lost the keys of my house."

You're having a hard time controlling your emotions now as you complained to him like a whiny child. Tears slowly cascading down your cheeks while you let out sobs.

"It's cold, Shou. I'm cold. And everything hurts. I wish you were here right now but, yeah, we already broke up." You didn't let him talk. "Just so you know I'm happy for you even if it's her."

"I'm right. Momo's better for you."

You were just sitting there, at the corner of your front porch. Deeps uncontrollable sobs squeezed your lungs. Your phone long forgotten as it slips from your hand and met the cold floor while you completely breaks down. You hugged your knees tightly burrying your head, serving as your emotional support now.

Pretending that you're already moved on from your heart ache. Smiling and fooling yourself that you didn't want him anymore. Saying you're fine when you found out that he's recently dating Momo.

All the pent up emotions you've been keeping from showing explodes like a burning magma finding its way out of the volcano. The cold air hits you again and this makes you grieve louder while shivering at the sudden drop of temperature.

Bullshit.

Out of your shrieks of anguish, clock hitting another hour you spent outside, phone still light up with your ongoing call with him, wind hitting your pitiful state, slowly and smoothly, tiny crystals glowing when lights hit it just right–snow descends from the sky.

"Fucking keys," you cursed. Eyes already heavy as Hypnos cradles you to sleep.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Forged Through Fire (13/13)

Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.

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Rated: T

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [AO3]

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Forged Through Fire

Epilogue

“Have you noticed that everything seems so much lighter after you leave the city?”

Roy looked out of the window in the same direction as Riza, looking at the sun shining brightly over the green hills as the train sped out of Eastern City along the branch line, stopping at all the small country towns on the way. They’d left Central in the early hours of the morning whilst it was still dark, and it was still a while to go before they reached Resembool. 

Riza yawned, but she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes and try to sleep, not when the countryside was looking so beautiful. She couldn’t believe that in all her life, she’d never been this far out of the metropolis. It was like a whole other world out here, a place where she could almost imagine that the horrors of the Amestrian regime had never existed.

Things still weren’t good yet. There was a long way to go before the damage from Bradley’s Fuhrership would be rectified, but at least the country was slowly making its way towards a democracy again. General Grumman, drafted in to pick up the pieces in the wake of Bradley’s death, seemed to be a reasonable man, but then again, when one’s definition of ‘reasonable’ was as broad as ‘not completely insane’, the bar was set pretty low. At least Grumman didn’t appear to be obsessed with making himself immortal. Well, not yet, and Roy was close enough to him to hopefully be able to spot the warning signs. 

Still, in the last year and a half since the regime had been unceremoniously decapitated in very dramatic fashion, things had been moving steadily in the right direction. The draconian laws were being repealed little by little. Madam Christmas was no longer operating out of the back of a bookshop and whilst the regulations on alchemy use were still tight, Riza no longer lived in fear of being shot for her tattoo. 

All in all, she had hope for the future now, not just hope for the country but hope for her own future as well, and that was something that so many people had lost over the past couple of decades. 

She glanced over at Roy across the train carriage from her, staring out of the window still and completely oblivious to her looking at him. Their relationship was moving steadily in the right direction as well, and every version of the future that Riza was hoping for included him in some shape or form. 

In a way she was glad that she had not followed him into the military now, as much as she had wanted to at the time. The anti-fraternisation regulations weren’t one of the things that would be going away in a hurry and they would have made things very difficult. She wondered if Roy was thinking the same thing about where their relationship was going; if he too couldn’t imagine a future without her in it. They had spoken about the nebulous future so many times over the last few months, always optimistic and full of fire, always full of grand plans about what would happen next, but for some reason, the next stage of their own lives together had never really come up. 

Presently, Roy caught her eye looking at him, and he smiled.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I was wondering how difficult it’ll be to find Hohenheim and Trisha once we get there. She said it’s a small community that protects their own; I’m a little concerned that we’ll be run out of town if we say we’re looking for them.” He paused. “And I was thinking about you, too.”

The rest of the journey continued in silence, the same easy silence that they had always shared since they had first met in the Hawkeye house all those years ago, and eventually Riza drifted off into a doze as the early start caught up with her, only waking to Roy’s gentle shake of her shoulder and soft kiss on her cheek. 

“Come on, we’re here.”

Resembool was a small town, and at first glance it appeared that sheep outnumbered people six to one, but Roy’s fears of being hounded back onto the first outbound train were quelled when the locals seemed happy enough to direct them towards Trisha. She and Hohenheim had made their home on the very outskirts of the town, a small white house on the top of a hill overlooking the rest of Resembool. 

“I’m beginning to see why people were happy to let us have directions,” Roy said as they made their way up the hill, which was deceptively steep. “I think anyone wanting to kidnap Hohenheim again would definitely think twice if they had to tackle this hill.” 

Riza just laughed, but by the time they reached the hand-painted wooden sign reading Elric Herbal Dispensary at the gate, she too needed to get her breath back. From this angle she could see the massive glasshouse that took up most of the yard space, and she spied Trisha coming out carrying armfuls of herbs.

“Well, this is an unexpected surprise.” She put down the plants and came over to open the gate for them; Riza could smell the aloe vera and tea tree on her. “Come on in; you’ll need something to fortify you after the walk up the hill.” 

They followed her up the path as she ran on ahead, leaning in through the open window. “We’ve got visitors!”

A minute or so later, the front door opened, revealing Hohenheim with a toddler who could only be described as a mini-Hohenheim on his hip. The child had his golden eyes and hair, and as he regarded Riza and Roy with the scrutiny only a nearly-one-year-old could give, Riza could definitely see the beginnings of the death glare as well. 

Hohenheim smiled. “Hello Roy, Riza. This is an unexpected surprise.”

“It’s good to see you. This must be Edward.” Roy braved the boy’s scrutiny, solemnly holding out a hand to him. Edward just continued to stare dubiously, as if he’d been offered a poisonous snake.

“Yes.” Trisha came over and tickled her son, immediately breaking the tension as he burst into giggles. “And you two might as well be the first to know that his brother or sister is on the way as well.” She patted her stomach, still flat to the unedified observer. “Come on in. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen anyone from the city; you’ll have to give us all the news.”

They entered the house and Trisha set about making tea, Edward returning to the far more important task of building block towers. 

“So, it seems you’ve been busy since you’ve been here,” Roy began. Hohenheim and Trisha looked at each other and then down at Trisha’s belly, and Roy gave a squawk of alarm. 

“That’s not what I meant! I was talking about the greenhouse!” He looked across at Riza for help, and she shook her head. 

“You got yourself into that hole, you can get yourself out.”

Trisha laughed and took pity on him. “Yes, it was quite easy to get set up in the end. My family was always in the traditional medicine line before I went to the city, so the Elric name is trusted in these parts. It’s been good to get back into it with more space than a broom closet. As for Van, everyone knows he’s an alchemist and he gets requests for help with fixing things sometimes, but since our closest neighbours are proper doctors and we don’t get all that many stabbings and less than legal activities in Resembool, he’s been enjoying being a house-husband. I never knew he could bake.”

“According to your summation of the carrot cake yesterday, I still can’t,” Hohenheim said. 

“Well, some of your attempts come out better than others. I think it’s the fact you try to apply science to it all.”

Riza watched the interplay between the two of them fondly. It was good to see them happy and safe after everything that had happened, and the amount of adversity that they had overcome and still been able to settle down into a normal family life gave her fresh hope for her and Roy. Riza would be the first to admit that her life thus far had not been at all normal in any sense of the word, but she knew that she had the chance to find that normality. 

The talk soon turned to their friends in Central and how everyone was getting on. Fuery and Breda were still working tirelessly with Roy. Falman had been sent on secondment to Briggs fortress for six months and had come home with a Drachman fiancée as well as the vodka shipment. Hughes wouldn’t stop talking about new-born Elysia for more than five minutes straight, during which he was talking about Gracia instead. Havoc and Rebecca seemed to be going strong, and Madam Christmas’s business was flourishing even more now that it was out in the open. 

Eventually, Roy started to talk about alchemy and the new licensing plans with Hohenheim, and Riza found herself following Trisha back out to the greenhouse to retrieve the dropped plants from earlier. They were gathering up bundles of tea tree together when Trisha asked the question.

“What’s eating you, Riza? You’ve been very quiet all afternoon.”

Riza sighed. “I don’t know. I guess… How did you know that Hohenheim was the one? How did you know that he was your future and you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him?”

“Hmm.” Trisha sat down on the little bench outside the greenhouse, sorting the bundles in her lap, and Riza perched next to her. “I think, in a way, it was more that he knew. Van’s lived a long time and he’s met so many people, but he’s always said that I was the first person he ever wanted to share his story with. It wasn’t just a question of trusting me with the knowledge, although that was a large part of it. It was more wanting me to know the truth and wanting to open up. For me…” Her hand came to her stomach again. “I’ve always wanted to be a mother, and he was the one I could see myself raising children with.”

“It doesn’t bother you, the fact he’s going to outlive you and the children?”

“No. I’ve made peace with it. I know he’s still going to love me when I’m eighty. Van’s not quite as accepting; he’s looking for a way to reverse what happened to him so that he can start aging again and die a natural death, but for now we’re just enjoying the time that we have. Life is short – for most of us, at least – so we need to make the most of it.”

It was such a simple truth, and yet it hit close to home for Riza. So much of her life had been spent in the shadows. Yes, part of that had been by design whilst she had been living at the bookshop and helping the others who spent their lives in the shadows, but even then, she had been on the edges of that life looking in. She had gone from being shut up in her own home to shutting herself up in a new home, and it was only during the last couple of years, helping Amestris get back on its feet in the best way she could, that she had really stepped out into the light. It was time to make the most of the life she now had, and in Riza’s mind, that included sharing it with Roy. 

Roy stuck his head out of the kitchen window. Speak of the devil.

“Hohenheim’s making dinner,” he said. “I’ve been tasked with keeping Edward away from the stove, but I really don’t think he likes me.”

Riza rolled her eyes as Trisha burst out laughing. 

“Oh Roy. What are we going to do with you?”

They made their way back inside to the kitchen, where Roy and Edward appeared to be engaged in a staring contest. Hohenheim was obviously trying very hard not to laugh and failing miserably. 

“Roy, he’s strapped into his high-chair, he’s not likely to make a run for it,” Trisha pointed out. 

“I know, but children are tricky things. I keep thinking that if I turn my back for a moment I’ll find him swinging from the lampshade or something.”

Trisha sighed. “You’re a brilliant alchemist and an excellent military tactician but you’re absolutely hopeless with children, you know that?”

“We can’t all be good at everything.”

Riza continued to watch the interplay between Roy and Edward for a while. She was not particularly maternal, not in the way that Trisha had always wanted to have kids, and there was a small part of her that was afraid of repeating the same mistakes that her father had made and perpetuating the cycle. All the same, when she thought of a nebulous future that included children, it was Roy that she could see in the picture; still just as hopeless as he was now but with more than enough love to make up for it. 

Trisha caught her eye and gave a knowing smile, and Riza looked away, embarrassed at the train her thoughts were taking. Still, the notion of that permanent future wouldn’t leave her mind. Not the children yet, but the future that was inextricably linked with Roy.

It was a shame when the evening came to a close and they had to leave Trisha and Hohenheim to go back to the little inn by the railway station that they’d booked into for the night. It had been so good to see them thriving out here, with Hohenheim finally finding some form of peace. They left them with the promise to come back and meet the new baby when he or she arrived next year and the knowledge that they were always welcome at any time, and they made their way back down the hill as the sun began to go down. 

“I’m so glad they’re ok, you have no idea. I know that Trisha would have found some way to let us know if anything had happened, but it’s been praying on my mind. I feel a little guilty that we didn’t come to check in on them sooner.”

Riza reached out and found Roy’s hand in the dim dusk light. “I think that might have done more harm than good. They needed the time to get themselves settled and to disappear into the community. And we know that they’re all right now. Honestly, I don’t think that there’s ever been a couple more determined to stick together through thick and thin.”

“I don’t know.” Roy squeezed her hand. “I think we do pretty well on that score.”

“Yeah.” Riza paused, trying to work out the best way of wording what she was about to say and deciding to just go ahead and say it. “Roy, I’ve been thinking. About the future.”

“Yes?”

“I can’t imagine a future without you in it. Well, I can, but I don’t want to. And I was thinking about making that future permanent.”

“Getting married and starting a family, you mean?”

“Yes. Not necessarily the starting a family part. I’ve not gone broody from meeting Edward. But the getting married and being a family of two part. In the future, of course, once everything’s more stable…” She trailed off her rapid justifications as Roy stopped in his tracks. 

“Why wait till the future?” he asked. 

“What?”

“Why wait till the future and everything being more stable? That might take a very long time; Bradley did a lot of damage in a short space of time and it’s going to take a while to unpick. It might be years before things are better again. I don’t want to wait that long.”

“You don’t mean right now?”

“No, of course not. We’ll need some time to plan it. Although we are absolutely under no circumstances allowing Hughes to get involved in planning, you saw what he was like when he and Gracia were getting married.”

“He might be less exuberant if it’s not his own wedding.”

“Don’t bet on it. But I don’t see why we should wait to make it official when it’s what we both want.”

“Are you sure it’s what we both want?”

Roy took her other hand, and Riza could see the earnestness in his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about anything. Right now, with all this upheaval going on around us, it’s probably the only thing that I’m sure about. I can get down on one knee and do it properly if you want.”

“No, no, it’s ok… Roy, get back up, you silly man!” She tried to pull him back up onto his feet.

“I’m down now, I might as well do it. Riza Hawkeye, will you marry me? Soon? At a definitive point within the next few months, not a vague date in the future?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I will, now get up before someone sees us!”

“There’s no one around for miles except Trisha and Hohenheim and they’d probably be cheering us on.” 

Nevertheless, he got to his feet again, brushing the dust off his trousers before pulling Riza in for a kiss. 

It was one of those moments that she never wanted to end, and by the time they broke away, the sun was well and truly setting, the lights of the town below starting to twinkle in the darkness as they continued to make their way down hand in hand. 

As much as she wanted to think about the future rather than the past, Riza couldn’t help looking back. A few years ago, she had accepted that her life would be a completely solitary one, never to be shared with anyone. 

She was so glad that she had turned out to be wrong in that respect, and that the future she had never thought possible was materialising itself right in front of her, that it was literally here in her hands. 

She glanced at Roy, returning his smile and squeezing his hand. It was time to let go of the shadows of the past that had haunted her for so long. 

It was time to live in true freedom at last.