#I feel aggressively stupid asking this question but also. why doors. someone dial up a 19th century fella and explain.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I don't know how strictly accurate this is, but one of the things I find shocking about watching historical dramas is how many people there are around all the time---according to Madame de... (1953) a well-off French household in the Belle Epoque maintains a workforce of at least 3, and the glittering opera has staff just to open doors. According to Shogun (2024) you can expect a deep bench just to mind your household, and again, people who exist to open doors.

Could people....not open doors in the past? Were doors tricky, before the standardization of hinges? Because otherwise, the wealthy used to pay a whole bunch of people to do it for them in multiple contexts, and I find myself baffled.

[favefandomimagines]

Oh (e.b.)

Summary: buck runs into his ex fling, taylor kelly, leaving you to feel like nothing but a second choice

AN: inspired by the winter finale of 911

You were a catch. You were smart, had a good job, beautiful. Guys were lining up to date you and yet the man you wanted to be with didn’t want you.

It seemed to everyone around you that the two of you were meant to be but to Buck, it wasn’t that obvious. He didn’t see how you looked at him, didn’t hear how you talked about him. Clearly, he didn’t know how you felt about him.

So, you stuck it out. You put your feelings on the back burner and just decided to be his friend. If he wanted to be with you, he would.

But you couldn’t ignore the feeling in your chest when he told you he was having dinner with Taylor Kelly.

“We got to talking at that call and then Albert said him and Veronica were having dinner and I just, called and asked if she wanted to come.” Buck explained. “And she said yes?” You asked.

“Yeah, she seemed on board. Maybe this is the universe telling me something.” He said. “The universe? You’ve never believed in that stuff.” You told him. “But this is Buck 3.0. I’m all for a change.” Buck answered. “When is this dinner again?” You asked. “Wednesday at 6.” He said. 

“Oh.” You muttered quietly. Wednesday was your birthday. And it seemed that Buck was caught up in bettering himself and finding someone that he had completely forgotten about you. But you had enough trying to remind him and get him to see that you were right there the whole time. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at the mug in your hands. “You okay?” He asked. “Uh, yeah. I think I’m gonna head home. I have a long shift tomorrow.” You said, rising from your seat.

“You just got here.” Buck pointed out. “Buck, I just, I gotta go.” You said in a more stern manner. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and watched you leave his apartment.

You let out a large sigh as you got in your car before the tears came.

How were you so unlucky that the guy you were head over heels for, wanted someone else? He wanted someone else so much, he forgot about her birthday. When you were right there through everything? You were there through Abby leaving, Ally breaking up with him, the lawsuit against the department, his parents, everything. And yet you were left on the back burner. 

You always put his feelings above your own, not because you felt like you should. But because you cared about him and if he was happy, you were happy. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that he sometimes didn’t give you that same courtesy. 

Your day was like the day from hell. Everything that could go wrong in your line of work, went completely wrong. To make matters worse, you had lost one of your favorite patients. She had stage 3 leukemia but she never let that change her personality. 

She made going to the hospital after shifts worth while because at least you got to spend time with her. But the cancer was too aggressive for the chemo and she died in her sleep that night. You tried not to let losses get to you but she had been your patient since you started volunteering at the hospital. You were really hoping you’d see her remission but the universe had other plans. 

All you wanted to do was lay on the couch with Buck and just cry. You got in your car and dialed his number, getting a few rings before he picked up. “Hey, you!” He greeted you. “Hey, do you maybe want to come over later? I’ve had the worst day. I lost a patient and-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I can’t. I have a date tonight, trying to put myself back out there.” He said. “I can come over after.” He added. “No, forget it. It’s fine.” You said. “You sound upset.” Buck said. “I’m fine, Buck. Enjoy your date.” You replied before hanging up the phone. 

Since that evening, you had been avoiding Buck like the plague. On shifts, you wouldn’t talk to him. Sticking to Chimney and Hen like glue to avoid any conversation with Buck. 

You went so far to ask to ride in the ambulance to calls, rather than in the fire engine like usual. It wasn’t odd for you to be in the ambulance because you were an EMT but you usually rode with the rest of the team.

“Does anyone know why Y/N won’t ride with us anymore?” Buck asked his crew. “Are you that dumb?” Hen asked. “Hen,” Bobby started. “It’s because of you, dude.” Eddie answered. “Me? What did I do?” Buck questioned. “Well, you blow her off all the time, completely ignore her feelings and ditch her for dates and you’re so oblivious you can’t see that she’s totally in love with you.” Eddie explained. “When you were hurt in the hospital, she didn’t come to work for days because she didn’t want you the throw a clot. She had to work triple shifts just to make enough to pay her rent because of all the days she missed sitting with you. Did you ever thank her for that?” Bobby added. “Well, no, but-” He started. 

“And when she lost her favorite patient, Emily, did you ask her if she was okay?” Bobby asked. “I-I couldn’t I had a date. And she didn’t say it was Emily.” Buck said, trying to defend yourself. “If you don’t reciprocate her feelings, that’s fine. But she’s your best friend. And as her best friend, you are supposed to be there when she needs you. She shouldn’t have to explain herself.” Bobby concluded. “You also forgot her birthday.” Chimney added as they all got out of the engine. 

The rest of his shift, Buck tried getting you to talk to him. But it was always, ‘I’m busy, Buck’ or ‘Can’t talk, we’re working.’ He’d given up when he tried to stop you after a call and you had given him a look he had never seen before. 

The guilt was eating him alive. He was a terrible friend to you and he thought being with you was a pipe dream. Until Hen and Eddie told him you loved him. But regardless of your feelings for him, you had done so much for him and he didn’t realize it until you were gone. 

That night, Buck went over to Taylor’s to gain more perspective on what he could do to fix what he royally screwed up. 

“I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t talked to me in weeks. We’ve never gone this long without talking.” Buck explained to Taylor.

“Well, you did forget her birthday. And not give it a second thought that she was hurting over the loss of a patient.” She said. “That’s not helping.” He replied. “You asked for my help and I’m being honest. You really hurt her. She almost got evicted because she was so worried about you. The first person she wanted to be with after her friend died was you and you went on a date instead.” Taylor said. “I know. I tried to talk to her but she won’t answer any of my calls or texts. She won’t even look at me anymore.” Buck said. 

“You are so stupid sometimes.” Taylor laughed. “What?” Buck asked. “She has feelings for you. Why else would she get so upset? If she only saw you as a friend, you would be getting screamed at not avoided.” She explained.

“Everyone keeps saying that but there’s no way Y/N has feelings for me. She’s...perfect. Perfect doesn’t fall for damaged goods.” Buck rebutted. “Trust me, she loves you.” Taylor told him. “And do you love her?” She asked. “Of course I do. But being with her seemed like it was too good to happen so I tried to move on. I guess I tried so hard I ended up hurting her anyways.” Buck answered. 

“Then tell her. And do a whole lot of graveling while you’re at it.” Taylor said. 

Buck quickly left the apartment and got into his car driving like a bat out of hell. When he arrived at your apartment, he didn't even bother to park in the parking stall correctly, his main focus was just getting to you.

When he finally reached your door, he knocked on it rather harshly and heard the sound of your urgent footsteps coming to find out who it was.

"Buck? What are you doing here?" You asked. Buck couldn't even find the words to answer because he was more focused on what you were wearing.

You had on a formed fitting red dress, your hair was curled and flowing over your shoulders and you looked beautiful.

"Wh-Why are you dressed like that?" He stammered. "I have a date." You answered. "You have a date? With who?" Buck asked. "Emily's brother. We became close when Emily had chemo and after she died we kept in tough. Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Don't go on the date. Please, for the love of god, don't go on that date. Because I love you, Y/N. I was too stupid to see it until you weren't around anymore. And I was terrible to you. I was supposed to be your best friend and I was so worried about my own life I dnd't even ask you how you were doing and oh my god I missed your birthday." Buck rambled.

"Slow down, Buckley, and talk to me at a normal rate, please." You said.

Buck took a deep breath and looked at you intently. "I'm in love with you. I-I always have but being with you always seemed like a pipe dream because you're perfect. You have always been perfect and you know that I'm not." Buck explained.

"Exactly. I've seen you at your worst and I still love you but even as your best friend you never gave me the time of day. Missing my birthday to go to dinner with Taylor Kelly. Brushing me off after Emily died because you had a date." You laughed bitterly. "I have stood by you no matter what. But god forbid I need you once in a while." You added.

"And I am so sorry, Y/N. You have every right to be upset with me, I'm upset with me. I'm pissed off at myself because I didn't realize what I had until it was too late." Buck replied. "Evan, do you understand the situation you just put me in? I get to go on a date with a great guy, one who actually pays attention and then the man I've been in love with for years, shows up at my doorstep to tell me he loves me back." You started.

Buck's facial expression fell, fearing the worst and anticipating you telling him that you'd moved on and he was too late.

"And I have to call that guy and tell him that I can't make it. Because the person I actually want to be with is right here." You finished.

The light in Buck's eyes returned at your words, looking at you with a gentle smile.

"Really?" He asked. "Yes, really and please don't make me regret it. You've screwed up a lot lately, let's not add us to the list." You said. "So there's an us now?" Buck questioned. "I-If that's okay with you." You stuttered. "It's absolutely okay with me." Buck said with a smile.

"I guess I got all dressed up for nothing." You sighed, letting Buck inside your apartment.

Buck was quiet for a moment as he watched you take your heels off and your earrings, placing them on the table by the door. "Then let's not make it for nothing. Let me take you out on our first official date." He said.

"Besides, I need to see you in that dress more often." He added a smirk on his face. "Alright then, Buckley. Take me on a date. You have a lot to make up for." You smiled, offering him your hand.

Buck took your hand in his, happily, and held you steady as you put your shoes back on. “Trust me, Y/N, it’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on.” He said. 

In the moment, you laughed at his words but after the date had concluded and all was said and done, it had indeed been the best date you have ever been on. 

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」

You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.

"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.

She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.

While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.

”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.

”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.

Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.

Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.

"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.

With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.

You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.

“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.

”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.

Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.

"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.

"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.

"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.

"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.

"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.

”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.

"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.

"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.

"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.

"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.

"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.

"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.

"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.

"Mommy used to pull my hair too."

You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.

"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.

”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.

"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.

"Everyone is joining right?"

There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.

"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.

"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.

"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.

Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.

"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.

Why does he agree to the stupidest things?

Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[xotonin]

A Valentine’s day with Bakugo

genre: fluff words: 1,959

→ summary: you spend the day with bakugo on valentine’s day, until sudden minor mishaps happen, trying to ruin your guys day

note: gender neutral reader

part two coming soon

━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Bakugo were sitting on the couch, sitting on the far ends of each other as you played on your phone. You knew today was Valentine’s day, and you tried brushing it off, but it was starting to irritate you that you weren’t celebrating.

You took a sigh, pulling your phone from your face as you stared at Bakugo in front of you. You nudged him with your foot, trying to get his attention.

He kicked your foot back harshly, his eyes still peeled to his phone. You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Do you know what today is?”

“Irritate-me-day?” Bakugo asked.

“No, stupid. It’s Valentine’s day.”

“Well, if you have any ideas, count me out.”

You sat up, turning your phone off and looking at him, annoyed. You rolled your eyes when he didn’t pay any attention to you, hitting him playfully. “We should do something!”

Of course, you and Bakugo were friends. Best of friends. But that shouldn’t stop you guys from celebrating together. You guys were both single, after all, so there shouldn’t be a problem.

“Come on, don’t be boring!” You finally said, taking his phone from his grasp. “Let’s buy some candy.”

Bakugo groaned, looking at you, annoyed. “If I agree, will you stop annoying me?”

You nodded, and Bakugo stared at you a moment before sighing, beginning to stretch. An excited smile went across your face as you hopped, running to grab your shoes.

After several minutes of hurrying Bakugo in your excitement, you guys finally made it out your front door. You hopped in the driver seat of your cool ass car that Bakugo so wishes he had. It was practically the only thing he was jealous of that you had, and you loved it.

You never let him drive your car for a simple reason: you loved your car. And you didn’t want him crashing it, as he was learning how to drift the vehicle of his own. Now drifting was hot and all, but your car was yours, and you looked after it.

You guys made it to the store after he whined for numerous minutes. You guys hopped out, and you rushed in front of him to grab one of the baskets outside of the store.

You turned around, handing him a basket as you held yours in the other hand. He groaned, looking at you questionably, only making you extend your arm out further, signaling him to take it.

He finally accepted it, and you smiled, raising your arm in the air. “Let’s go!” You chimed, turning around and happily walking in.

You made your way through the aisles as you searched for your favorite candy, and after several searches, you found it. You threw it in your basket as Bakugo followed you aimlessly.

“Cheer up.” You said to him, glancing at him before putting more random candy in your basket. “We are gonna have fun.”

“I’m not a fan of shopping.” He replied to you as he made his way over to check out some candy beside you, picking up a glass jar full of sweets. He examined the outside, trying to see which candies were inside.

You began to grab more candy down the aisle until you heard Bakugo groan in frustration, along with aggressive shaking.

“I can’t see what other candy is in here!” He shook the jar more.

“You’re gonna drop that if you kee—” Your sentence was cut off by a loud crash. You looked in Bakugo’s direction, and the jar that was once in his hand was now on the ground, broken. Bakugo backed up from the mess.

He then suddenly picked up the piece of candy on the ground. ���Oh, the other candy was crunch bars!” He looked at you with a proud smile, holding up the candy happily, proud that he figured it out. “I’m so smart.”

You rolled your eyes as you quickly dusted the broken glass and candy under the aisle shelf with your foot, grabbing Bakugo’s hand and fastly walking out of the aisle. “We were never here.”

You ended up pulling Bakugo across the entire store, somehow ending up in the baking aisle. You smiled and let go of his hand, grabbing the first chocolate cake mix you saw. You tossed it in your basket as you ordered Bakugo to grab the sprinkles, and the last few—minute stops of holding more stuff, you guys were running out of the store.

When the two of you arrived back at your house, you rushed the bags inside in excitement, setting them on the kitchen island. “We are gonna bake cookies.” You told Bakugo, who stood in front of you, taking his shoes off.

“Now? We just got back. And it’s starting to get dark.” He whined in frustration.

“I had a feeling you’d say that, so that’s why we are making it a competition.” You said as you unpacked the bags of items. His head perked up, and sudden interest plastered across his face. He walked over to you, helping you take out the things. “Fine, I’m down. But just this once.” He said in defeat.

You smiled as you grabbed the baking pan that lived in the drawer under the stove, finally making use of it. You guys got the ingredients out, including the flour and eggs, and placed them on the counter. “Go heat the stove.” You told Bakugo.

He walked over and cranked the dial-up. “What temperature?”

“Three—fifty.”

He placed it at the amount and walked back over to you. “Okay, what’s next?”

“You’re gonna measure the flour with this.” You handed a measuring cup to him.

He grabbed it and began tilting the new bag of flour over the measuring cup, spilling it all over the counter.

“No—oh my God, you’re so bad at this.” You giggled, yanking the flour out of his hand. “Put the measuring cup in the bag, stupid.”

“I had another way of doing it, dumbass. You just had to interfere, didn’t you?” He barked back at you with a smile, beginning to do it your way and putting the flour in the bowl.

You rolled your eyes as you guys began to put the ingredients in the bowl, mixing and starting to make a chocolate paste. After many times of sticking your finger in to taste the flavor, it was finally done. You grabbed the bowl, starting to pour it on the buttered pan. “Set the timer.”

Bakugo grabbed his phone, beginning to set it as you placed the metal pan in the oven. You winced at the heat, so you shut the oven door quickly.

“Alright, now we wait.” You said, returning to the counter.

“This is gonna take so long.” He whined. “Why did we decide to do this?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s day.”

You fidgeted with the bag of flour, trying to wait until the timer went off as you guys both stood there, bored. You sighed, looking around to find something to entertain yourself until you looked down at what was in your hands. You gave a mischievous grin as Bakugo hung over the island, his elbows on the counter as he was coaxed by his phone.

You sneakily put your hand in the bag, grabbing a handful of flour, taking a look at Bakugo before slinging it in his direction.

“Hey!” He flinched, staring at you before finally sweeping a pile of flour on the counter and chucking it back at you. You giggled, putting your hand in the bag and throwing more flour at him.

You guys went back and forth with various food items, laughing and dodging the hits, making a complete mess of the kitchen.

You finally threw one last bit of flour until something sharp came flying in your direction, hitting your arm.

You whimpered, dropping the flour in pain, clutching your arm.

“Shit—” Bakugo used the counter to hurry himself to you. “I don’t even know what I threw. Are you okay?” He asked, grabbing your arm and examining it. It was only scraped but bleeding nonetheless.

“I think I’m okay.” You giggled, trying to make light of the situation, but Bakugo thought differently. He dragged you to your bathroom, grabbing the pack of bandaids under your counter. You made your way to sit on top, dangling your legs as you looked at him.

He held his hand out for your arm, and you placed it in his grasp, allowing him to be gentle with you. You never really saw this side of him before, but who wouldn’t be like this when someone got hurt?

He shook his head, laughing as he placed the bandaid on your wound. “I am sorry; I guess I went a little crazy.”

You giggled along, rubbing your arm in comfort. “It’s okay.”

He smiled, staring at you for a few moments, but only for it to slowly fade as his eyes darted from your lips to your eyes several times. Your facial expression changed when you realized what was about to happen, and it gave you slight butterflies thinking about it.

Suddenly, the timer went off in the kitchen, making you guys both jump.

You sat there for a moment, trying to recollect yourself before hopping off the counter, heading into the kitchen and to the stove. You opened the oven and took the pan of cookies out, but only for a burnt smell to fill the air. You pinched your brows as you placed the cookies on the stove. “How long did you set the timer?”

“Thirty minutes,” Bakugo replied.

“It was supposed to be fifteen minutes.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I thought you would have known!” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, it’s fine; they probably taste fine.”

The kitchen was jumbled, but you were much too tired to clean it as it was late. It wasn’t even that bad of a mess, no matter how much you both threw at each other. You put the cookies on a plate and grabbed a bowl for the candy as you walked yourself to the couch.

You grabbed the remote as Bakugo sat relatively close to you. You tried not to question it as you picked one of your favorite cheesy romance movies and set the remote back down on the coffee table.

“Wanna try them?” You asked, grabbing a cookie and looking in his direction. He nodded, grabbing a cookie and almost taking a bite until you stopped him. “Dude, I meant together.”

He rolled his eyes, waiting for you until you counted down the seconds, both taking a bite at the same time. Immediately, Bakugo spat it out and gasped for air dramatically. You thought he was dramatic for a moment until the flavor set in your mouth, also having to do the same.

“Those are disgusting. What did you do?” Bakugo asked you, shaking his head from the flavor. You looked at him oddly.

“What did YOU do? I followed the directions.”

“I did too, if you don’t remember, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are the one who burnt them.”

“Well—other than that, I followed the directions.” He threw the words back at you.

You sighed annoyingly, setting the cookies back on the table and grabbing the candy instead, popping it in your mouth. The flavor seemed to override the burnt taste. The next following minutes of the movie was promising. You were enjoying the moving pixels, but Bakugo, on the other hand, was only half into it.

You leaned your back into the couch, beginning to get comfy, until suddenly a flash of light came through the window, followed by a massive blast of thunder, the power abruptly turning off.

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 13

Previous: Codename The Mochi of it All 

Pairing: Lee Euna X Min Yoongi, Lee Euna X Kim Seokjin, Jeon Jungkook X OFC

Genre: Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.2k 

Warnings: Swearing 

Summary: Lee Euna returns to identify a mystery man and put another name on the list. 

Justifying Jimin 

Present Day

          The light is a speckled mess as it attempts to stream through the stained-glass windows arched above the rattling glass below. The warping wood welcomes the reprieve from winter, early spring seeping in through the pollen in the air. I’ve been working with Lee Euna since around Christmas and she continues to pay far more than is necessary. I’m not complaining, upgraded computer, new camera, better security, I can now afford HBO Max and Hulu and Netflix at once. It’s wonderful, no scraping by. My savings account has even been growing, something I didn’t think would happen until I at least solved my first murder. Catching cheating spouses is lucrative, but not enough that I can afford rent in two places.

         The point being, bless Lee Euna and her money. I sleep just fine with it in my bank account. Though I’ve yet to determine if I’m sleeping fine because Jungkook’s holding me, pulling me into his orbit, securely protecting me from my deepest fears, or because I’m no longer stressed about making ends meet. Having him around… it’s stupid. It’s, I’m trying to work on valuing my feelings, all of them, and while I find romance stupid, it’s so comforting sleeping next to someone you care about. The way his lips slightly part, the soft curl of his breath, his hair cascading over his cheek, an arm always wrapped around me, or his hand holding mine.

         I don’t know what I thought it would be like, having someone consistently in my bed, looking out for me, caring when I let the cucumber turn to mush inside my refrigerator, asking if I’ve drunk all my water for a day or encouraging me to go to bed before 11PM. It’s an odd thing, falling in love with someone. I am, falling, I think, not that I’ve said as much. There’s a certain amount of pride, in keeping your growing feelings of adoration to yourself, of sorting them before sharing them, nurturing them in silence. I do hate how integral he’s become in my life… It hasn’t been long, but in the pit of my stomach, all I can feel is a growing blossom of hope, waiting to bloom.

         It’s an odd thing, knowing Jungkook is lying to me about something, and not being able to confront him about it. Sitting in my office, patiently waiting for Lee Euna, I’m staring at a list of facts I’ve written down.

         Taehyung and the mystery man know Jungkook, now I don’t know how they know him, or why, or if they’re old school friends or poker acquaintances. Jungkook doesn’t play poker, so maybe basketball buddies. Or lost friends from childhood, bonding over their heritage and shared experiences of hating their 4th grade teacher. The important fact is that they recognized him by name. The look they exchanged, the way their bodies shifted, it would be wild to have behaved that way and not know of Jungkook. There’s no possible way they could’ve been thinking of a different Jeon Jungkook.

         All these ‘facts’, lead me to a central question that I don’t know how I feel about, or what I’m going to do about, but it still remains: who is Jungkook?

         “Ms. Y/N, good afternoon,” Euna says walking through the door of my office. I glance at her and smile.

         “Good afternoon, can I get you anything to drink?”

         “Mm, do you still have that water I like?” She sits down, crossing her ankle behind the other and waits.

         “Yes, I do, Pellegrino, lemon or regular?” I offer.

         “Lemon please,” She responds, she only ever drinks lemon.

         “Here,” I hand her the bottle and watch as she patiently opens it, letting the few bubbles escape before placing her lips to the top. “I have good news, and bad news.”

         “Oh? Let’s start with the bad,” She’s curious, her brow lightly furrowing, concern in her eyes as they move across my desk looking for a sign of what’s to come.

         “I’ve found a few men who seems to know Taehyung. The problem, is that I don’t know who they are.” I tell her plainly.

         “Oh, that is a problem,” She sits back in her chair, brows creasing deeper.

         “I have photos and am trying to run it through the system,” I tell her, “But,          I don’t know if I’ll find anything. It was almost impossible to track down Seokjin, and I had to call in a favor just to get any intel.”

         “Can I see them?” Euna sets her drink down on the end table and leans forward. “Maybe it’s someone I know? That will make less work for you, right?”  

         “Well, that leads me to my next bit of news,” I inform her.

         “The good news?” She isn’t hopeful, I can tell from her tone. She should be hopeful, I mean, I’ve done a decent job in not a lot of time.

         “Yes, I found Seokjin and Taehyung,” I turn on the extra monitor and the photos appear for her to look at, hoping she can make sense of the mystery men. I prefer to use digital photos instead of the standard print, less chance of blackmail on the part of the perpetrator. It also provides additional income when someone comes back a year, or a few months later to get prints for their lawyers.

         In this moment, however, Euna isn’t nodding in contentment at my amazing photography skills, she’s in shock, mouth open, eyes wide.

         “Jimin,” She whispers.

         “Yeah! Is he the Jimin on your list?” I ask, confused.

         “He’s my brother’s fiancé,” She whispers, eyes scanning the photos of Taehyung and Jimin.

         “Is or was?” I push.

         “How do they know each other?” She asks instead.

         “I don’t know,” I tell her, lying in this business gets you nowhere, fast.

         Picking up another photo to compare, “How much will it cost to find out?”

         “I don’t know, it’ll take more time for sure, maybe another month or two. I’m still putting out feelers for Min Yoongi,” I inform her. “Then there’s the question of how all of them are connected, if they are. I have a slight lead on Jung Hoseok, he’s been out with Taehyung once or twice, and I guess, until today, not much on Park Jimin. There’s one other man that Taehyung goes to dinner with, but I don’t know who he is.”

         “Yoongi will be easy to find, though, right?” She asks me.

         “I would assume so, but I had to call in a favor to find Seokjin,” I reiterate.

         “Jimin was with Tae?”

         “What happened between your brother and Jimin?” I redirect.

         “He, they, fuck,” She swears, slamming her hand on her the table before turning her back to me and pacing the width of my office. “They were engaged and on the night of their engagement party, Jimin disappeared. No note, no call, nothing. Changed his cell number too. Wiped his social media. Jun-Seo couldn’t find him at his job, couldn’t locate him through his parents. Their friends didn’t know where he was.” Euna sits, taking a long swig from her Pellegrino. “It was as if he never really existed, Seo felt like he’d been in some dream that he’d magically woken up from to realize his life was a nightmare. He didn’t sleep for weeks, went on benders, became Dae’s henchman.”

         “Wasn’t he already?” I question.

         “Yes, but he was at his beck and call, for, what, six months or something? He’s started returning to his old self, but he’s never going to get over Jimin.” Euna takes another sip, hiccupping gently before screwing the cap back on.

         “Does Seo want revenge?” I ask.

         “Is it your job to know?” Euna snaps.

         “No, I guess not,” I shrug.

         “Jimin’s in town? For good?” She’s calculating, pupils contracting, irises moving from picture to picture.

         Tilting my head, I tell her, “I don’t know about that.”  

         She glances up at me, looking me dead on, “Will you find out?”

         “Sure, but it’ll cost. Your list keeps growing,” I pull out the handwritten list she’d made me for our first meeting.

         “Who’s on it again?”

         “Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung,” I recite, pretty names for prettier men.

         “And that other guy Taehyung hangs out with, I want him too,” Euna absentmindedly flings her hand in the general direction of her original list.

         “Okay,” I say, moving the note to jot a few words down on another piece of paper.

         “I’ll add an extra, what, two grand to your weekly? Can that move this along?” She’s refitting her sunglasses over her eyes, but I catch the glimmer of tears coating them.

         “Yes, it can. I’m going to have to work my –

         “Do whatever you have to,” Euna stands, grabbing her purse and pauses to look at the photos again. “When someone breaks your heart, destroys your world, well, wouldn’t you want revenge too?”

           Lee Euna leaves, a comment about her returning in two weeks for an update that I acknowledge with an “okay!” to hide how overwhelmed I am. The list is supposed to be getting shorter, not longer, and yet I’m sitting here, a few months in, with more people to find. Granted She just added more money to my fee, real money, tangible, squirrel away for when I’m back to hunting cheaters and abusers, money. But how am I going to find men who clearly and aggressively don’t want to be found? Not to mention the notes in my car, the connection to Jungkook and the very real chance that Euna’s revenge could very well be dangerous.

           I pick up my phone and dial the third number I have memorized, though Jungkook’s is slowly becoming #4.

           “You’ve ran out of favors, Y/N,” C says, tutting her teeth.

           “I’m not calling about a favor, I’m calling because I need advice.” I correct her.

           “What?” She’s curious, I can hear it in the lilt she uses for emphasis. Sisterhood allows you to notice those things, a life lived together means she can tell how frustrated I am.

           “It’s taking forever to run these pictures through the system. I’ve searched social media, I’ve combed local yearbooks and university graduation lists, and I cannot find these men. Either they’re –

           “Either they’re hiding and have scrubbed their existence from the web, or they are using fake names.” C answers, she hates when I call on her lunch break to talk shop, but she always answers.

           “How would I know?” I let out a frustrated growl that she chuckles at.

           “Isn’t that part of your job?” She snorts.

           “No, I know. I ran their names against Lee Enterprises rosters, and a few came back with different last names. Enterprises doesn’t post company photos so all I have to match them with are the names and photos Euna has given me. Which is minimally helpful. Seokjin wasn’t lying, his name was the same, but Taehyung’s isn’t Kim Taehyung at the library, but it’s him,” I explain.

           “Someone’s lying, either the men or Euna,” C deduces.

           “Could this be bigger than what Euna is asking for?” I ask the question that’s been stuck in my mind for days.

           “As in a larger group?”

           “Yes, as in a larger play in the works, a government agency, Interpol, Mafia, someone who’s out of my jurisdiction,” I clarify.

           “Lol, Interpol is the British Mafia. That’s funny. Truly, it could be, but how would you know?” She inquires.

           “We’ve had this conversation before,” I remind her.

           “True, but you process best when you speak through your problems,”

           “Also true.”

           “You’re on the right track, trust yourself, Y/N. Did you figure out if that Jimin was the same-

           “It is,” I interrupt.

         “What’s his deal?” C inquires.

         “Broke her brother’s heart,” I confirm.

           “Dae-Seong is gay?” She’s shocked, I roll my eyes.

           “Other brother,” I correct her.

           She hums. “Oh, he seems fluid? Is that the correct phrasing?”

           I snort, “Yeah, we’re all fluid technically,”

           “Mmm, speaking of-

           “Speaking of, if this was part of something larger, and you knew, would you tell me?” My voice is soft, C doesn’t know about the notes in my car, and she doesn’t need to.

           “If I could, if I had any information or anything, I would,” She promises.

           “Thank you. Love you, mean it,” I say.

           “Love you, mean it,” She answers.

           Finding Jimin was just a fluke, a one off, a bit of luck. He was with Taehyung in a genuine friendly engagement. They weren’t expecting me, I wasn’t expecting them. But the rest of these men? Jung Hoseok shows up here and there, nothing recent, no phone number or Facebook page with activity after 2015. Min Yoongi, well, Park Yoongi, shows up on the database, but when I look at the one photo of him, he is not the same man that Euna swears he is. The cherry on top of that is the last man to appear occasionally with Taehyung.

           Altogether, that’s six men. I’ve found three, which I guess should make me a glass half full kind of optimist. However, one was pure luck. The other was secrets from my sister and dumb luck, and the third? Child’s play. So, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Mystery Man, who are you, and what have you done to Lee Euna?

Next: Codename Love Reimagined 

[choerrypuffs]

and stupidly, us.

pairing: vigilante!sicheng x nurse!reader

genre: angst, fluff, it gets a little hot and heavy but no smut 

word count: 5.5k

synopsis: your boring, routine life takes a turn when you find a man bleeding to death by your apartment.

author’s note: this was originally going to be written for another member but then the take off teaser was released, so here we are (update: the mv was released halfway through me writing this so everyone go stream it!!!)

additional: read the yuta spinoff here

A wave of humidity hits you as you leave the air conditioned convenience store. Cringing, you ignore the disgusting feeling of your t-shirt clinging to your sweaty back and begin your trudge back to the apartment. The dark sky is riddled with bright stars, and it would genuinely a gorgeous night if it weren’t for the atrocious weather. The plastic bag you’re carrying keeps brushing against your leg and sticking to your skin. Annoyed, you swing it over your shoulder and let it hang from your fingers. 

You easily dodge a couple of drunken college girls who are stumbling down the street, in search of another night club to get even more drunk at. You wonder if they’re going to the one your co-worker, Chaeyeon, is at. All of the ER nurses (that weren’t on-call) were out partying tonight. It’s been a hectic week, so Chaeyeon suggested that everyone come out for shots tonight. Of course, you declined because downing shots of tequila in a loud, smelly night club is not exactly your thing. You’re more of a curling-under-a-warm-blanket-with-some-cheap-bottles-of-soju-and-a-pint-of-ice-cream-while-crying-over-cheesy-movies-on-Netflix kind of girl. 

By the time you arrive back at your apartment complex, you are debating on taking another shower. It’s so hot outside that your three minute walk to the convenience store has you soaked with sweat. Fishing your keys out of your back pocket, you begin to unlock the door until you hear a soft groan. You freeze mid-lock turn and slowly turn your head in the direction of the noise. It sounds like it’s coming from the small gap that separates your apartment building from the next one. 

Every rational part of your entity is screaming at you to run inside and lock the door, but the nurse in you can’t help but notice that it sounds like the person is in pain. You mentally argue with yourself for another couple of seconds before you inhale, taking a small step toward the direction of the noise. 

“H-Hello?” 

There’s no response, but you’re close enough to hear someone panting. Exhaling the breath you took in, you peek down the narrow space. It takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, but you finally see it. See him. 

There’s a guy, who didn’t look much older than you, crumpled over on the ground. His back is against the side of the apartment building, his hand clutching at his side. You can see the rapid rising and falling of his chest as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Without blinking, you squeeze yourself through the small space and make your way towards him. 

“Sir, are you alright?” you ask, awkwardly trying to kneel. The space is so narrow that you end up nearly toppling onto him. 

Once again, he doesn’t say anything. His eyelids are fluttering, which is a good sign. You place your hand against his cheek; his skin pallor with a sheen to it and he’s cool to the touch. You furrow your brows, lowering your gaze to where his hand is. Pushing aside the bomber jacket he’s wearing, you gasp out loud when you see the amount of blood pooling through his shirt. 

“Sir,” you say, a little louder this time, “you’re losing too much blood. I’m going to call an ambulance, okay?” 

You begin dialing emergency services, but before you can even enter the first number, the stranger grabs your wrist and yanks it to the side. Nearly dropping your phone, you shoot a bewildered glance at him. 

“Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse. 

“Sir,” you say slowly, “if you aren’t transferred to a hospital, you will die of blood loss.” 

“Don’t,” he says again, shaking his head. 

You bite your lip. It’s clear that he’s growing weaker by the second, yet he used the remaining strength he had to stop you. There’s obviously a reason, and a very serious one at that, why he’s refusing medical care, but you don’t have the time to question him about it. Without another word, you stand up and haul him out from the gap. Dragging him to your doorstep, you shakily unlock your door and pull him inside. With a considerable amount of effort, you manage to get him on your couch. You try not to look too depressed as you watch his blood seep through the white suede. 

“I’m a nurse,” you explain, slightly out of breath, “I’ll help you stop the bleeding.” 

The stranger looks up at you warily and nods, and you’re struck with how handsome he is even when bruised and battered. His dyed hair is disheveled and slightly matted with dried blood, and his luminous skin glows even with scratches all over it. His plush lips are perfectly kissable, despite the cut on it. 

Get it together, you chide yourself, are you seriously ogling a dying man? 

You grab the first-aid kit in your bathroom and a couple of clean dish rags from the kitchen after you wash your hands, before sitting down beside him on the couch. His eyes are closed but he opens them again when he feels the couch dip with your weight. Without looking at him, you grab the hem of his shirt and yank it up until you see the wound. There’s a long gash marring his pale skin, but luckily, it’s a shallow one. For the most part, the edges of it has already been caked with dried blood, but you can see fresh blood glisten through the gash whenever he breathes. 

Wetting one of the rags with warm water, you try your best to clean up his wound. You frown when you notice that the gash is starting to bleed a little more profusely without the barrier of the dried blood stopping it. You quickly grab another rag and firmly press it against the gash.

“What’s your name, by the way?” you ask, feeling a little awkward in the tense silence. 

He says nothing, just watching you. Though you suppose you should be, you’re not really that bothered by it. There is no malicious intent in his gaze. He’s analyzing, looking at you with a curiosity and perhaps even a little fascination. 

“Well, mine is Y/N,” you answer yourself, huffing at his rudeness. 

“It’s...better if you don’t know,” the stranger says quietly, low voice rumbling deep within his chest. Now you’re really curious, but you know better than to pry.

“Well, you could at least give me a fake one or something. I’m saving your life, you know,” you point out. 

He’s silent for just another moment before, “Winwin.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Winwin. Out of all the names you could’ve given me, that’s the one?” 

“It’s an old nickname of mine,” Winwin explains, a small smile on his face. “In fact, you’re the only one I’ve told about it in a very, very long time.” 

“Well, I guess I’m honored,” you tease. 

Winwin gives you a full-fledged smile, and suddenly, all the moisture disappears in your mouth and you find yourself at a loss for words. His eyes trail down to the floor, where your stuff from the convenience store lay. Most of it is spilling out of the bag due to being haphazardly tossed, including a lone bottle of soju that had rolled away completely. 

“Do you mind if I drink that?” Winwin asks, pointing at the bottle. “As you can probably tell, I’ve had a rough night.” 

You snort. “Let me finish bandaging you up, and we can both help ourselves.” 

He gives you another grin, and you wish he’d stop (not really). 

Once the bleeding is under control and the gash is disinfected, wrapping Winwin’s injury is a piece of cake. After that’s finished, you toss him the bottle of soju and he catches it with one hand. 

“I still strongly suggest you go to a hospital and get it checked though,” you advise as you clean up everything. 

Winwin shrugs noncommittally, cracking open the soju and drinking straight from the bottle. You’re slightly concerned and yet impressed all at the same time. By the time you have everything cleaned up, the bottle is empty and he’s up in search of your trash can. 

“Damn,” you note, pointing him in the direction of it. “That was quick.” 

“I needed it,” he says, tossing it in your trash can smoothly. “Anyways, I’ll get going.” 

You nod, feeling just a little sad that he’s leaving. Though you aren’t really sure why. This guy screams trouble with a capital T, no matter how attractive he is. You follow him to the door and nearly jump out of your skin when he turns to face you, the space between you dangerously close. 

“Thank you,” Winwin says sincerely. “For everything. Also, I’m sorry for ruining your couch.” 

“It’s an old couch,” you say dumbly, unable to form intelligent phrases due to his proximity. 

You’re mentally beating yourself up for your stupidity as he steps outside. Just as you’re about to close the door, he turns again. 

“Next time,” he says in a quiet tone, “don’t blindly bring strangers into your house. They could be dangerous, including me.” 

The weekend passes by in a flash, mainly consisting of you watching terrible romcoms nonstop in an attempt to take your mind off Winwin. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work. 

Your alarm goes off at 5:45 AM, and you jolt awake. You’re laying on your back, arm slung across your eyes, and trying to make sense of your surroundings. The alarm continues to angrily beep until you find the energy to roll onto your side and switch it off. Lethargically sitting up, you aggressively rub your eyes before finally climbing out of bed. Your room is pitch black due to the lack of sun, and you nearly trip over a pile of dirty clothes as you stumble into the bathroom.

After you brush your teeth, you tug on a pair of semi-clean scrubs and pull your wild bedhead out of your face. You don’t look too hard at yourself in the mirror, because you know you look terrible. Though you would love to be able to get up at five o’clock sharp, take a nice shower, and maybe even put on a little makeup, you value that extra 45 minutes of sleep much more than your appearance. 

It occurs to you that this is probably why you don’t have a boyfriend. 

One long, drowsy subway ride later, you finally arrive at the hospital. There’s barely anyone here, but you do notice two shadowy figures near the double doors that lead to the ER. You furrow your eyebrows and begin to approach them. One of them turns when he hears your footsteps, and you recognize him as Dr. Nakamoto Yuta, a general surgeon. You’ve never spoken to him, but you’ve heard plenty about him from the giggly nurses in the ER. The figure behind him leans to the side to look at you as well, and you stop in your tracks. 

It’s Winwin. 

“Good morning,” Yuta greets politely, but there’s a bit of an edge to it. 

You drag your eyes away from Winwin and nod. “Good morning, Dr. Nakamoto. Do you two have business in the ER?” 

He shakes his head. “No, we’re just chatting. Sorry if we alarmed you.” 

You turn your gaze back to Winwin. He’s looking at you with a hardened, cold expression, one that he didn’t have last time. Tilting your head, you wait for him to acknowledge you, but he doesn’t. It’s like he’s looking right past you, and it hurts more than it should. 

“Alright then,” you say softly, “have a nice day.” 

“You as well,” Yuta replies. 

They’re silent as you walk past them and into the ER. You want to turn back and snoop on them, but something in your gut is telling you not to look back. 

“Y/N! Wanna go for drinks?” Chaeyeon asks, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk out of the hospital. 

“We have work tomorrow, Chae,” you say sternly. 

“Just for a little bit. I promise you’ll be home by midnight, Cinderella,” she teases. 

You want to say no, but it’s not like you have anything to do at home either (other than mope about Winwin ignoring you this morning). Sighing, you relent. “Fine, but just for a little while.”

Chaeyeon is surprised at how easily you give in this time but nevertheless erupts into a loud squeal. Pulling you into a rib-crushing hug, she jumps up and down in happiness. “I can’t believe I’ve finally worn you down enough to say yes! And the other girls said I wouldn’t be able to do it!” 

You wheeze in response and she finally releases you. 

“Go home, get dressed in something hot, and we’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?” she orders excitedly. 

You nod, slightly overwhelmed. Chaeyeon lets out another happy squeal before waving you goodbye. 

Just what have I gotten myself into?

When you arrive home, it dawns on you that you only have one “partying” dress, gifted to you by Chaeyeon actually. You’ve worn it a total of zero times, and you’re pretty sure it’s too small for you now since you’ve taken up the rather bad habit of snacking whenever you have nothing to do (which is all the time). 

It’s a maroon velvet cocktail dress that stops just above your upper thighs. The dress has spaghetti straps, but they’re so thin that they really serve no purpose other than for aesthetics. When you wriggle into it, it’s a bit snug but not as bad as you thought. Even though you’re slightly uncomfortable, you admit that the dress does wonders for your curves. You do your makeup as best as you can without looking like a raccoon and swipe on a dark red lipstick that you had bought on impulse once when you were drunk. 

As if on cue, you hear Chaeyeon honk her car horn outside your apartment. Grabbing your clutch and slipping on a pair of strappy heels, you quickly go outside. You see the other nurses in the backseat waving at you and quickly beckoning you to join them, so you do. Chaeyeon’s jeep is stuffed, and you’re basically all sitting on top of each other. 

“You look hot,” a nurse, Joohyun, comments. 

“Thanks. You too,” you say awkwardly. 

“Alright, ladies! Operation: Get Y/N Some Dick has started!” Chaeyeon announces loudly. The rest of the girls cheer, and you feel yourself blush. 

“Guys, that really isn’t―”

“Hush,” Chaeyeon shushes, “I know for a fact that you haven’t had a fling in an extremely long time, or maybe ever. So it’s our duty to get you one.” 

You want to defend yourself, but it’s true. 

“Don’t worry, girl. All you have to do is have fun, and we’ll take care of the rest,” Chaeyeon reassures you. 

“That makes me worry more,” you mumble. 

They all laugh, but you’re already beginning to plot an elaborate escape plan in your head.

Your stomach erupts into butterflies when Chaeyeon parks the car and everyone starts to get out. Luckily, Joohyun is leading you by the arm and basically drags you out of the car. The music from the club is so loud that you can hear it before you even arrive at the entrance. The bouncer takes one look at Chaeyeon and lets you all pass without a single word. You give a confused look to Joohyun and she just winks at you. 

Once you walk in, you nearly go deaf from the volume of the music. Chaeyeon turns and says something to you but you don’t hear a single word of it. You’re not sure how anyone communicates with each other in this sort of environment. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to be expecting a response and makes a beeline toward the bar. The other nurses start to disperse, and you’re not really sure where to go so you continue to follow Chaeyeon.

She says something to the bartender and she gets to work, plopping a drink in front of you within minutes. 

“A personal favorite of mine,” she yells over the music. You’re only barely able to hear her. 

You warily pick up the drink, the strong scent burning your nostrils. Holding your breath, you down it in one shot and nearly cough up a lung doing it. It burns all the way down and lingers in your throat. Chaeyeon laughs, patting your back. 

“Atta girl,” she says proudly. 

The bartender makes you another one, and you lightly sip at it this time. When you turn to say something to Chaeyeon, you realize she’s not next to you anymore. She’s on the dance floor, pressed up against a random guy. Rolling your eyes, you finish your drink. 

“Abandoned that quickly, huh?” the bartender asks. 

You shrug, sliding your empty glass to her. “Another, please.” 

You’ve always been a lightweight, so you already start to feel the buzz. You know your third or fourth one will be your limit, but the alcohol is dulling your rationality and you can’t bring yourself to care. After a couple more, you’re drunk. Your cheeks are ablaze, and everything around you is spinning. No longer having the energy to stay upright, you lay your head down on your arms. 

Go home, the coherent part of your brain tells you, but your limbs don’t listen. 

Suddenly, there’s a cool hand on your back, and you hear someone say your name. It’s a soft voice, but yet you hear it so clearly over the thumping bass. The hand has moved to your shoulder, shaking you gently. Letting out a whine, you try to move away. 

“Y/N.” 

You hum in response, finally lifting your head and opening one eye. Winwin’s gorgeous face finally comes into focus, and you giggle. You grab his cheeks and squish them together, making his lips jut out like a fish. 

“Well, look who decided to show up!” you slur, swaying from side to side. “Are you suddenly talking to me again?” 

Winwin clasps your wrists and removes your hands from his face. “You need to leave now, Y/N.” 

“But I don’t wanna,” you say, pouting. 

“You’re drunk. Go home,” he says firmly. 

“Are you gonna take me?” you ask boldly. 

Liquid courage, indeed. 

Winwin looks almost embarrassed. “I’ll call a cab for you.” 

For someone so mysterious and brooding, he can be quite cute, drunk you muses to yourself.

“I want a piggyback ride, like in the movies,” you say, crossing your arms. 

He gives you an incredulous look, and you stare back at him. When he realizes you mean it, he sighs and scratches the back of his head. There’s a little pink dusting his cheeks, but he nods. Smiling cheekily, you put your arms out in front of you and wait expectantly. 

Winwin looks around and sighs, turning his back to you and lowering himself to match your height. You throw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands catch your thighs, and he adjusts you a little further up his back. Burying your face into his shoulder, you can’t help but notice how good he smells. You expected him to smell like tobacco and stale smoke, but he just smells like soap and fabric softener. 

He easily weaves through the crowds, even with you on his back, and you realize just how stuffy it was in there when the fresh air hits you. You cling onto him some more, the warmth of his back nearly lulling you to sleep. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you give really mixed signals?” you whisper into his shirt. 

His shoulders shake as he chuckles. “No, because I usually don’t give signals at all.”

“Well, you’re giving them to me. Really mixed ones. Unless they’re all in my head,” you say, “that would be super embarrassing.” 

“They’re not,” he says faintly, “though I really shouldn’t be giving them to you.” 

“Well, why not?” you demand. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“How do you know Dr. Nakamoto?” 

“I can’t tell you that either.” 

You sigh, blowing a lock of hair out of your face. “Of course not. You won’t even tell me your damn name.” 

Winwin doesn’t respond and the rest of the walk back to your apartment is silent. When the two of you finally reach your doorstep, he puts you down. Your legs wobble and you would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for Winwin grabbing your arm. You look up at him in your drunken haze. The glow of the moon cascades over his face, and your breath is taken away by his beauty. 

Once he makes sure you’re stable, he lets go of your arm. Clearing his throat, he says, “I should go.” 

“You should,” you agree softly. 

He nods but makes no move to leave, his warm brown eyes training their gaze on you. The weight of his stare is so intense that you have to remind yourself to breathe. You feel him reach out and curl a finger under your chin, tilting it up. Once you meet his eyes, his thumb quickly swipes at the corner of your lips, where your lipstick had been smeared. 

“How much of this are you going to remember?” Winwin asks. 

You shrug and he looks down at your shoulder. One of the straps on your dress has fallen down, and he says nothing as he hooks his finger on it and lifts it back up. His knuckle brushes against your skin the entire time. You shiver, letting your eyes flutter shut. He pulls you closer, hands resting on your waist and forehead against yours. He lets out a shaky breath. 

“Sicheng,” he whispers, “my name is Sicheng.” 

You open your eyes, reaching up to cup his face. He leans into your touch. “I don’t think you were supposed to tell me that, Sicheng.” 

“I know,” he says, “I just wanted to hear you say it. Good night, Y/N.” 

Sicheng steps away from you, his hands lingering slightly on your waist before his touch is gone completely, and he leaves. 

You head into work the next day with an atrocious hangover and a few choice words for Chaeyeon. Though you don’t stay too mad at her because of what happened after. You can still hear his voice in your head like he’s speaking to you. 

My name is Sicheng.

The rational part of your brain is scolding you for being so fixated on a guy that you’ve literally only talked to twice and is definitely hiding something serious from you, but you can’t help but be drawn to him. The way he looks at you makes you so― 

“Y/N?” 

You snap out of your daze, nearly dropping the files in your arms. Nakamoto Yuta is standing in front of you, hands tucked into his coat pockets. He’s smiling at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You smile back nervously. Something about him unsettles you. 

“Yes, Doctor?” you respond. 

“Would you mind joining me for lunch? I want to talk to you,” he asks, tilting his head. His eyes are daring you to say no. 

“Sure,” you say slowly, nodding. “Lead the way.” 

Yuta makes small talk with you during the walk to the cafeteria, but you can’t shake the weird feeling in your gut. He pays for both of your meals and sits at a table in the corner of the room. The moment you get situated, his face drops. 

“So,” he starts, “what’s your relationship with him?” 

You try to keep your expression neutral. “Who?” 

“Sicheng’s never been good at lying, and I guess you aren’t that skilled at it either,” Yuta muses.

You don’t respond. 

“I’m just going to get straight to the point. He’s smitten with you, not enough to be stupid about it yet, but it’ll happen very soon if this continues. We have a lot of enemies, and they won’t hesitate to use you against him. I’m sure you’re a very nice girl and you’d be good with him under any other circumstances. But not this one. So, stay away from him. For your own good and his,” he says harshly. 

“I―I don’t understand. What on Earth are you talking about? What enemies?” you ask. “Are― are you guys in a gang or something?” 

Yuta sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s just say he leads a very different, dangerous lifestyle from yours.”

You begin to ask more questions, but he cuts you off. “Don’t ask anything else. The less you know, the better.” 

“But―”

“If you value his life at all, you’ll stay away.” 

Yuta doesn’t wait for your response, simply picking up his tray and leaving. 

You don’t see Yuta or Sicheng for the next two weeks. Chaeyeon attempts to get you to go out with her again, but you strongly refuse each time. You’ve been spending the majority of your free time doing what you’ve always done, curling under a blanket and watching movies while snacking. But for some reason, it feels so empty. 

It’s storming tonight, and a loud clap of thunder makes you flinch. You turn off the movie you’re watching and prepare for bed when you hear a loud rapping on your door. At first, fear washes over you but then a small glimmer of hope blooms in your chest. You quickly pad over to the door, looking through the peephole. When you see Sicheng, you immediately open the door. 

“Hey,” he greets. 

“Jesus, Sicheng,” you breathe, stepping aside to let him in. 

He’s sopping wet, once again battered and bruised. His cheek is swollen, and there’s a nasty cut across his forehead. The skin on his knuckles has been scraped off, and he’s limping. For the most part, he’s in better condition than he was when you first saw him. You realize he’s shivering and you quickly grab your fluffiest towels from the bathroom, swaddling him in them.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, plopping down on your couch. Right on the spot with his blood stain. “So you remember.” 

“Remember what?” you ask, drying his hair with a smaller towel. 

“My name.” 

You stop, looking down at him. “How could I not?” 

Sicheng shrugs. “Yuta told me he talked to you. He’s right, you know.” 

“Yet you’re here,” you say wryly. 

“Strange, isn’t it? I had every intention of going to Yuta’s, but I found myself here,” he says quietly.

You give up on drying his hair, slapping the towel over his head, before leaning back against the couch and sighing. “Stop saying stuff like that.” 

Sicheng watches you, reaching over and sliding his hand into yours. His hand is wet and cold, but it somehow warms you. You let your intertwined hands stay like that for a only a few moments before you pull away. “Are you ever going to tell me who you are?” 

“I can’t,” he says again, shaking his head. 

“Are you a criminal?” you ask. “Murderer? Drug dealer?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

“I can’t keep doing this, Sicheng. You’re the one who told me not to blindly let strangers into my house, including you, but you came to me. You’re the one who said it’s better if I don’t know your name, but you told me anyways. I don’t want your breadcrumbs anymore. If you have no intention of telling me who you are, then get out. I don’t want to see you,” you say, pointing to the door.  

You’re met with another round of silence. 

“Criminal,” he says after a long pause. “I guess you could call me a criminal.” 

“You guess?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“We serve justice to higher-ups that are corrupt,” Sicheng explains, “just not in the most lawful way. We don’t kill though, we just simply hit them where it hurts: their bank accounts.” 

“So you’re a vigilante,” you say, “a modern day Robin Hood.” 

He smiles. “That sounds much better.” 

“Oh,” is all you can reply with. You’re glad he’s not a murderer or anything like that, but you’re not sure what to do with this information now. 

“So, you can imagine the amount of enemies that I’ve made,” Sicheng continues, “and how they’ll tear you apart if they find out that I care for you.” 

“Which means you should probably go,” you finish for him, nodding and looking down at your hands. 

“Yes, I probably should,” he agrees, tilting his head and waiting for you to meet his eyes.

There’s another brief pause before you do, and it’s all over from there. 

Sicheng’s arms are suddenly wrapped around your waist, hauling you onto his lap. You grab his face and kiss him with a fervor that you never knew you had in you before. His hands are clutching your hips tightly as he yanks you forward, pressing you flush against him. You let out a mewl in his mouth at the friction, and he groans in response. He removes a hand from your hip and places it against the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His tongue draws out another moan from you, and you feel your lungs crying out for air. 

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers as you pull apart to breathe. His lips are glossy and slightly tinted from the lip balm you had on. “Tell me this is wrong.” 

You shake your head, throwing your arms around his neck and bringing him in for another kiss. Sicheng doesn’t protest and kisses you back even harder. His fingers begin fiddling with the hem of your shirt, and you can tell he wants to take it off but is waiting for your approval. Breaking the kiss, you take off your shirt and toss it over your shoulder. He’s surprised at first, but his gaze quickly softens as he leans in to press feather light kisses against your skin. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, sucking purple bruises onto your collarbone. 

You crane your neck, clutching his head to your chest. Once he dots hickeys across your chest and neck like constellations in the sky, he pulls away to look at you. His lips are swollen and his eyes are lidded. 

“Stay,” you whisper, placing your forehead against his. 

“I shouldn’t,” Sicheng says it like it’s physically hurting him. 

“You shouldn’t,” you echo. 

But he does. 

When you wake up, you see Sicheng with his back turned to you as he tugs his shirt back on. It’s so early that the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and you groggily call out to him. He stiffens like you caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to, slowly looking back at you. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed when the blanket falls from your bare chest.

He eases himself on the edge of your bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face. “I have to go.”

“Why?” You wrap your fingers around his wrist as he cradles your cheek. 

“Last night was...a mistake,” he says softly, “a wonderful, amazing mistake, but a mistake.”

You knew he was going to say that. Though it doesn’t hurt any less.

“The more I’m around you, the more I like you, and that terrifies me,” Sicheng says, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“What are you so afraid of?” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“That you’ll get hurt. That this feeling will turn into love. That, one day, I’m going to have to choose between what I’m doing and you―” 

He closes his eyes. 

“―and that I’ll make the wrong decision.” 

You’re silent, watching him. Sicheng opens his eyes again and looks at you, his expression a conflicting mix of longing and frustration. Wrapping your arms around him, you place your cheek on the top of his head and he buries his face in your chest. 

“Come back to bed,” you finally say, after the two of you stay like that for a while. 

“I―”

“Don’t worry about the what ifs,” you shush him, “worry about right here, right now. And right now, you’re here with me. We’re safe. No one is going to come through that door and try to kill us―” 

“You don’t know that,” he mumbles. 

“Shut up, you’re ruining my grand speech,” you snap. 

“Sorry.” 

“Well, now I’ve forgotten it,” you sigh, “anyways, just cuddle with me. Geez.” 

Sicheng smiles against your skin and falls onto the bed, taking you down with him. Rolling on top of you, his arms cage your head as he leans down to press a small kiss on your lips. 

“Should I?” 

You roll your eyes, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and bringing him back down to you. 

[wafflewarriors]

Of Daydreams and Realities

Chapter 2: Black Mark

The dreams persisted, and you hadn't had a decent amount of sleep in months. You would wake to find yourself in a cold sweat and a cocoon of blankets. The dreams became more aggressive. At the end of the day, you found yourself drained, but unwilling to fall asleep just to wake up again to another nightmare. Most of all, you'd been having trouble differentiating between reality and your dreams.

While your anxiety usually was tolerable, the past several days had been nothing but misery. Anxiety levels had been dialed up to full blast, making you fidgety and over-emotional. You were constantly on edge. You ran away at the thought of anything remotely threatening. Coward.

The dreams revolved around one thing, the glabella. Over and over, the word glabella had burrowed its name into your dreams. You didn't understand.

So hopefully doctors would.

Your feet tapped as you waited in the infuriatingly comfortable chair in the waiting area. You needed to know the results. You couldn't breathe—

When the doctor did come back, he was happy to reveal you did not have a tumor, and if any further issues came up, to contact him. The only downside was the bill for wasting their time. However, it was a small—well, metaphorically small—price to pay to lift the weight off your shoulders. 

You were so silly. Thinking that dreams could tell you the future. Stupid.

You made your way out of the building, and suddenly you could breathe again, and—

A hand snagged your collar. And… a gun. A gun was pressed up against your forehead. No— glabella. The barrel of gun was pressed against your glabella.

Glabella.

"Where's your wallet?!" He demands.

And you're too shocked to speak.

You didn't hear the bang.

///

You jolted into a tree.

You could feel your heartbeat in your teeth and your heart gallop. And… for crying out loud, you fell asleep against a tree. You don't remember coming to the park, but you're sure it would come back to you. You were so sick of dreaming.

You lazily watched the city buzz by, yet something caught your eyes just across the street. You squinted. Standing, you marched your way over, minding streetlights and careless drivers.

It couldn't be.

A life-size TARDIS stood tall in the middle of the city. People looked at you strangely as you watched the blue box. Oddly enough, it's low hum seemed to draw your anxiety away like a drain to an overflowing bathtub. Feeling slightly hollow, you pulled at the door, but it remained firmly shut. Raising your hand ever so slowly, you snapped your fingers.

The door yawned.

You stepped inside, eyes like saucers. Bigger on the inside. There was no way. You had… you had just… it was bigger on the inside.

Your anxiety returned as you watched a pseudo David Tennant flip another lever and the TARDIS lurch under your feet. Did that mean you'd left Earth? Crap crap crap… he's turning, he's turning, he's going to see you…

Being the coward that you were, you moved with his backside. It would be comical if your heart wasn't drumming against your chest like an over-ecstatic percussionist on drugs.

He mumbled something and then said, "Why are you doing this to me, girl? Come on. This is not Barcelona. This is Earth." 

The walls of the TARDIS hummed.

Startled, you backed into the wall, and your hand touched a door handle, which had not been there a minute ago. The TARDIS was encouraging you to hide from The Doctor.

...why?

You were terribly afraid it will creak, but the handle was smooth when you turned it and so were the hinges of the door. No pull or thud. Now, if you could just—

The door shut into the jamb with a not-very-quiet 'clrk'.

You heard a muffled "hey!" and it was enough to send you tearing down the hallway. And boy, you ran. You ran down the corridor like the floor was crumbling at your heels. Another door, keep going. Keep it random, keep it—

Dead end.

You look for things to barricade the door. Anything to avoid confrontation. You hate yelling and you really really hate explaining. You're terrible at words and communicating. Hate hate hate hate it all.

The door is thrown open by The Doctor, who stares at you like you stole his car. Or, maybe you did. The TARDIS wasn't a car, though… and you didn't really steal her.

You realize you were clutching a broom to your chest. Why there was a broom in the TARDIS... you weren't quite sure. Wasn't she self-cleaning? Or... was the broom about her allowing you to feel more secure?

As this thought dawned upon you, it seemed to also dawn upon The Doctor.

Some part of you wished you could be mysterious or daring, but you were about as daring as a tater tot. So, breathily, you squeaked out, "Hi."

'Hi'. You just said 'hi' to The Doctor. Your first word was 'hi'. You saw an alien from planet Gallifrey who regularly travels through time and space, and you said 'hi'.

You looked at each other for a very long time, with heavy breathing to fill the silence, before he squinted at your forehead.

You raised the broom. "Do not touch me."

He watched you quizzically. "Wasn't going to. The scar on your face is rather worrisome, though. Might want to get that checked out."

You swiveled to face the mirror that the TARDIS had provided, and you stared.

You just stared at the mark the bullet had left.

You backed away from the mirror and, consequently, your back met The Doctor's chest. His two hearts murmured behind his shirt.

Flustered, you stumbled away.

"Might I ask how you obtained such a mark?"

"A bullet," you replied.

His eyebrows flew to his hairline. "And… how are you alive?"

You didn't know. "I thought it was just a dream." The scar was an ugly red. Barely healed.

He snatched your sleeve, tugging you through the winding hallways. He opened the last door—that betrayer—and herded you over to a chair that, also, was not present before. He sat you down, fumbled with his pocket, and finally brought out his iconic sonic screwdriver. Looking to you again, he scanned the mark. "Repaired less than fifteen minutes ago. Wow, it's… actually fading. You will have a scar, unfortunately. The tissue is swimming with... grace, it says. Grace?"

"Hm," was all you said. Did that mean… angels..?

He moved to touch it, but then hesitated, silently asking for permission. You nodded to confirm. He prodded it, frowning. "I don't like it."

Alarmed, you shot him a look.

I don't like it.

"Not the scar," he said simply. Yet, he looked at the mark as if it was his archenemy. "Well, yes, the scar, but the ambiguity here is what is worrying me. No offense, but why would someone heal you? What was their motive? That question is rhetorical, of course. I'm sure you don't really know." He angrily stared down your forehead, and you squirmed.

"I can leave," you said, uncomfortable.

"What? No." He fervently shook his head, rambling, "You just got here! Besides, that would be rather unwise. You do know you're in an alternate universe, yes? That could drastically impact time, if it hasn't already. Probably has, considering you ran into me of all people. Well, I suppose I'm not people, but—"

"A what now?" You knew what was, but you still couldn't believe—

"An alternative dimension—"

You tuned him out, walking timidly to the door of the TARDIS.

"—what, what are you—"

You opened the doors.

A galaxy swam before your eyes, an array of brilliant stars and colors. The Doctor barely caught your shirt collar before you went sailing out of the TARDIS from the shock of it.

"Culture shock?" He suggested.

"More like 'wow, I'm dead' shock."

His eyebrows curl together. "You seem very alive to me. And I can bring you back to your dimension, you know."

"But I'm…" You struggled to find the right words. "But I'm dead. The real me, in my universe, is dead. I was shot in the face."

"I suppose." His eyes flashed elsewhere, as if he was searching the TARDIS walls for answers. His mouth was set in a grim line. He looked to you again, offering a smile. "I do need a companion…"

“Oh, right. Rose…" you murmured in understanding. He must have just lost her.

"How," he said, deadly calm, "do you know that name." You could hear the underlying passion: his fear, his grief, and most of all, his anger.

"Oh…" is all you can say. "She's your friend? Er… lover? You love her. Oh, sh… you probably just lost her and I'm just making this worse… sorry, that is…  this is… I don't know how to…" Your mouth was pressed thin, and with comically wide eyes, you analyzed his reaction.

He thought for a moment, before carefully saying—as if the words had to be exactly right, "Are you… from my future, then?"

"Uh… yeah. Next regeneration, your future, and all that…" You laugh forcefully. "Yeah, I mean, you talk about Rose all the time. Constantly—" You stop talking when you realize he's turned away.

"Constantly?" His voice is so small.

"Uh. Okay, not constantly, but—"

"You said constantly. Typically the first word said is the truth. You're changing it to pacify me."

"Pacify? No, no, no—"

"Unless, of course, you've been lying the entire time."

"What? I'm not—"

He whips around. "You are." He glared, and then you realized he was baiting you to backtrack on a lie. "You're lying. Now tell me, who are you?"

At those words, you were frozen. 

Who are you?

At those words, your heart picked up. The dream, which is all it had been, had burned it's terror into the forefront of your mind. Not this again, anything but this again—

Who are you?!

With a pained gasp, you dove for the door. Anything but this.

The Doctor snatched your arms up in a vice-like grip. "Who are—"

"I know the question!" You screeched, straining your trapped arms against his hands. You were riding on the paper-thin edge of your sanity. The way your lungs whistled and your hands shook, you just knew you were mere moments from having a panic attack. Harsh breaths turned into ragged ones. With wild eyes and your heart in your throat, you shivered beneath The Doctor with your arms still in his grip.

You briefly considered trying to escape, but it would be like trying to break free of iron cuffs—you weren't going anywhere. He hauled you to your feet and sat you down on the chair, he let go of your arms, which fell to your lap like wet noodles. He tapped your face as you began to pass out. He was also saying something, but you couldn't hear him over your breathing.

Your vision was steadily growing darker, with static-like dots weaving in and out. A broken television screen—was that all that you were now?

[benedictshurley]

Positive : Part 7

So to be completely honest here, this is a filler chapter. Also don’t hate me for what’s about to transpire thank you.

AUTHORS NOTE: 10/20/18: I changed Mollie to Marnie (from kings of con) because I feel better writing about someone fictional rather than Rob’s real wife. I’m just not comfortable writing about her or his children, so Rob (in this story) only has a son named Tyler. Thanks for understanding!

Summary: Reader is on the verge of forgiving Rob, until she sees something that makes her see red

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader  

Word Count: 2,141

Warnings: angst, fighting, swearing

Disclaimer: this is pure FICTION. I mean no harm or hurt to the Benedict family, or others involved. Marnie is Rob’s fictional wife from Kings of Con. I originally used Mollie (his real wife) but ultimately decided to change it as it made me uncomfortable writing about her and his kids.

Feedback is very helpful and motivates me to write!

It had been two weeks since you had seen or heard from Rob. You had got what you wanted, but you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. A piece of you was still mad at him for the things he said, but at this point you were more mad at yourself for insinuating that it was his fault you were in the hospital.

Sighing, you plopped yourself down on the couch, deciding to scroll through Instagram. After liking a few posts, you scrolled past a picture Rob posted, before going back up. It was him kissing Marnie’s cheek, with the caption saying, “My love♥”

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach. He was back with Marnie. For how long? Was he with her when he kissed you? When he was acting like he had feelings for you?

You didn’t realize you were crying until you saw a tear land on your phone screen. Wiping them away, you locked your phone. You didn’t have a right to be jealous. He was never yours. But, still you were. Did anyone else know? Did Rich or Matt know?

To sate your curiosity, you dialed Rich’s number. After a few rings he picked up.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?”

“Did you know?” You asked quietly through the phone.

“What-” His confused voice came through the receiver.

“Did you know?!” You asked louder and more aggressively than you had intended to.

“Did I know what? Y/N what’s wrong?”  

“Rob and Marnie are back together Rich. I know I have no right to be hurt and jealous but I am. So I just need you to tell me, did you know?”

Hearing a sigh from the other end, Rich answered. “I didn’t find out until right after the fight happened. That’s when he told me. According to him they’d been back together since just after your first appointment, so almost two months.”

You nearly dropped your phone. He had kissed you long after that. He had acted like he wanted to be with you long after that. You didn’t realize how long you’d been silent until Rich threatened to come over if you didn’t answer in the next 5 seconds.

“N-no Rich that won’t be necessary, I’m fine. I-i gotta go.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply before you hung up.

Grabbing your keys, you went out to your car, and began to drive to Matt and Mandy’s. After pulling in their driveway, you went and pounded on the front door. After Mandy had opened it, she couldn’t even get a sentence out before you stormed inside.

“He’s such a douchebag!” You shouted, throwing your bag on the floor by the door.

“Okay, I’m assuming Rob. What’d he do now?” Mandy said, shutting the door.

Turning to face her, you crossed your arms. “He kissed me in Denver. He was acting all lovey dovey before that. Today, I find out he’s been back with Marnie, since July!”

Mandy rolled her eyes. “Of course. It makes sense why he would yell at you. Wife’s back in the picture, get baby mama out of it. Dick.”

Leaning against the wall, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know why I love him. He’s been such an asshole lately.”

“Yeah he has I don’t know-” Mandy paused in the middle of her sentence. “I’m sorry, did you just say love? As in present tense?”

Shooting open your eyes, you pushed yourself off of the wall. “N-no, I didn’t. I said loved.”

Walking over to you, she crossed her arms and smirked. “Oh my god, you do love him. Even after everything you love him.”

Whining slightly, you ran your hands over your face. “I know. It’s awful. I shouldn’t love him- I can’t love him. These feelings need to just go away.”

Mandy pulled you into a hug, stroking your hair. “I’m sure it’ll be easy. Maybe it’s just attraction because you’re carrying his baby. That could be it.” Pulling away from the hug, she held you by your forearms.

“You need to get out and do things. Take your mind off of Rob. Focus on the baby. Oh! Go to the mall, get some cute maternity clothes. Your jeans won’t fit forever. Take care of yourself, instead of worrying about other people for once.” She said in a comforting tone.

Taking a moment to think about it, you realized Mandy was right. You never did anything for yourself lately. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, it was either all about the baby or all about Rob. You needed to do something for yourself.

“You’re right. I do need to do things for myself. I’m going to the mall, and I’m going to spend so much money.” You laughed, picking your bag up, and hugging Mandy goodbye. As you left, she shouted from the door.

“Have fun! Don’t go too crazy!” Mandy chuckled out.

“No promises!” You replied, before driving off and towards the mall.

Rob’s POV

Rob missed you. He didn’t want to admit it but he did. He tried to distract himself by focusing on Marnie and his son, but somehow you kept coming into his mind. He wishes he wouldn’t have run away when you told him why you couldn’t forgive him. He wasn’t even mad at what you said. After all, it was true. Now all he wanted to do was apologize again, to make you not hate him.

Rob was trying really hard to be happy with Marnie, but there was this sinking feeling in his stomach all the time. He knew that he was staying with Mollie for his son. He loved Tyler, he was the light of his life. In his mind, it was better for him to have his parents together, even if he was miserable.

In an attempt to distract himself, Rob decided he and Marnie would go to the mall for a “date” while Tyler was in school. After going through a few different stores, Rob found himself in front of a maternity/baby store, while Marnie shopped for something for his birthday. Looking at the displays, he found his mind, once again, wandering to you and the baby.

As he stood there, he saw someone walk out of the store that looked just like you. “Great now i’m seeing things.” He thought to himself. As he looked closer, he realized it was you.

Before he could think about it, his feet were moving to chase after you. “Y/N!”

Readers POV

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that all too familiar voice calling out for you. You tried to continue walking, but he wrapped his hand gently around your wrist, preventing you from going anywhere. You spun yourself around to face him.

“Rob. W-what are you doing here?” That’s a stupid question. It’s a mall. It’s public property.

“Just shopping. Listen, I’m sor-” Rob’s voice got cut off when Marnie walked up behind him.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Let’s go.” She hung onto Rob’s arm, eyeing you up and down, with a disgusted look.

Biting your lip, you felt jealousy settle itself in the pit of your stomach. Of course he was here with her. She’s his wife.

“In a minute. Y/N I wanted to say I’m sorry for leaving the other day and I’m still sorry for what I said-” Rob’s words were cut off by a scoff from Marnie.

“Don’t apologize to her. She should be apologizing to you.”

Turning your focus to Marnie, you furrowed your brows. Yes, you did need to apologize for what you said about it being his fault you were in the hospital, but what else had you done? “Excuse me, what?”

Letting go of Rob’s arm, she stood in front of him, sizing herself up to you. “I said, you should apologize to him. It’s your fault he’s so stressed all the time. This baby stuff is making him lose his mind. God knows if he’s even the father. You seem like the easy type. Lord knows who fathered that kid.” Marnie spat at you.

You clenched your jaw, your hands balling themselves into fists. Her words sunk in, and as the wheels turned in your head, realization washed over you. It was her. She was the person who said those things to Rob. She put those ideas in his head.

“Oh my god. It was you. You put those ideas in his head. You’re the one who made him doubt everything he knew about me.” You paused, looking over at Rob, who was probably as pale as a ghost. “You know what, Marnie? You don’t know shit about me. I met you once before all of this. I’m not going to sit here and try to defend myself to some jealous housewife who can’t stand the fact her husband fucked another woman. Newsflash, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You growled in return.

Rob stepped between you. “Y/N, that’s enough! Don’t talk to my wife that way. She was just trying to make sure I wasn’t being lied to.”

Of course he was defending Marnie. “But it’s perfectly fine for her to talk to me like that? You know i’m not like that. I would never lie to you,” Shaking your head, you began to back away. “Forget it. I’m done. I don’t need this. Don’t worry Marnie, the only time I’ll see your husband is for conventions.”

Blinking away the tears, you walked away from them, your heart shattered in your chest. A part of you wanted Rob to chase after you, but he didn’t. You weren’t surprised. He had taken her side after all.

After walking off, you found yourself in the food court, sitting alone at a table, picking at the salad you decided to order. You didn’t even have an appetite after the encounter with Mollie and Rob. How could he let her say those things to you? Did you not mean a thing to him anymore?

You didn’t even notice someone sit across from you until they cleared their throat. Pulling your focus from your food, you saw that it was Stephen.

“Oh hey Stephen. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you, before responding. “Well it’s a mall so..,” he waved a small shopping bag around.

Mentally face palming, you sat up straighter in the seat. “Right. Sorry i’m just a little scatterbrained right now. I’m shopping too.” you replied, holding up the baby store bag, not realizing that you had yet to tell the band about your pregnancy, until he had gotten a clear look at the logo.

“Nice. Is one of your friends having a baby or something?” He said after examining the bag

Hesitating for a moment, you decided to tell him. You were planning on announcing it soon anyway. “Uh no. It’s for me. I’m the one having a baby. Surprise?” You bit your lip in anticipation of his answer. So far everyone’s been happy, but that could change with each person you tell.

You could see a look of slight shock glaze his face, before he gave you a light smile.

“That’s great Y/N. Congratulations. I didn’t even realize you were seeing someone.”

“Oh i’m not!” Okay, that came out a lot quicker than you thought it would. “I-i mean, it was more of a one night type thing. I’m still single.”

Stephen nodded, not pressing the issue. After talking and catching up for a few more minutes, Stephen suggested you two go to the arcade and hang out. Why not? It’s not like you had anything else to do. Taking Stephens outstretched hand, you threw out your barely eaten food, and grabbed your bag, walking with him to the arcade.

A few hours later, Stephen walked you to your car.

“I had a great time today Y/N. We should hang out more often.” He smiled at you.

Giving him a smile in return, you gave him a quick hug. “We should. I had more fun today than I have in awhile.”

Pecking your cheek lightly, he gave you a gentle squeeze as you hugged him. “I’ll see you around?”

Nodding, you said your goodbyes before he walked away to his own vehicle. As you sat in your car, you felt a happiness you haven’t felt in a long time. You had been so focused on Rob and your issues with him, you never thought to think about your other friends and how much you missed hanging out with them. You had genuine fun today with Stephen, and for the first time in a long while, you went to bed with a smile on your face and happiness in your veins.

The only question was, how long would it last?

Positive Taglist : @natasha-cole  @itsfunnierin-enochian  @kocswain @missihart23 @wontlookaway @shanghai88 @rblstrash @burningrupture

Taglist is OPEN. (please message me instead of replying to the post it’s easier for me to manage them when you send them through messages. Thanks!)

[daysswithyou]

I. Young K - Promise

Characters: Young K x OC

Genre: fluff, slice of life

Words: 2.3k

Description: enemies to lovers! young k

A/N: Part I of the enemies to lovers series - featuring our reliable bassist! 

---

All he could see ahead was miles and miles of cars, their blinding red rear lights distorting his vision. The exhaust from other cars made it hard to breathe and in his mind, he was cursing and swearing at those with cigarettes hanging from the tip of their fingers outside of their car windows; he didn't need the second hand smoke to accelerate his death.

 His meeting was in 15 minutes and the cars in front of him were crawling forward at a snail's pace. Frustrated, he raved the engine of his motorcycle and tried to manoeuvre in the tight space between your vehicle and the car beside you. He moved forward at great speed but by the time he realised what was happening, it was too late. The front of his motorbike collided with the side of your car, the impact sending his bike sideways before he got thrown off his bike.

 Lying on the sidewalk, the pain in his hand and leg began to set it. Using his left hand to clutch onto his injured right hand, he hissed in pain as he shot you a glare but the sight of you left him in absolute disbelief. Instead of showing care and concern for someone that you injured (like he expected you too), he found you inspecting the dent in the side of your car. He was sure the furrow in your brows was due to the pain of having to pay the high price for the car repairs, and not out of worry for him.

"Hey! You right there!"

"What!"

You finally turned around only to snap at him, and his jaw dropped open further, letting out a scoff at your attitude.

"Lady, you've just injured someone and you're more concerned about your car than a living human being? You're amazing."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you came hurtling at my car out of nowhere so stop using that tone at me."

"Have you no sympathy in your heart for an injured man?"

"I have none for rude and irresponsible people like you."

Nonetheless, despite your sharp tongue, he could see you whip out your phone to dial for the ambulance before you came over to secure his bleeding arm for him.

--

When the ambulance came, two men rushed to him. Between their moving figures that blocked you from his view, he could make out your busy figure in the back of the ambulance as you set up the equipment to test his vitals.

"She's a nurse?"

"Who are you referring to?"

The young male with sharp angular features that was tending to his arm caught onto his question and was now staring at Young K with bright doe eyes, his hands working on the procedure that he's done repeatedly for years.

"I’m referring to that girl in the back of the van. She's a nurse too?"

"Y/N? Yea she's one of us, but she’s a doctor, what about it?"

"How did she even get to become a doctor?"

The young male (whom he now knew as Wonpil - courtesy of his nametag) was now staring at Brian as if he's grown an extra head.

"What has she ever done to you?"

"She? She's the reason that you're here right now! She knocked me down and she cared more about her car than me!"

"Well, I guess that means you're a pretty shitty person."

Wonpil then carried on with his work nonchalantly and all Brian could do was roll his eyes in response, both his arms immobilised.

Amidst the drawl of the traffic around them, your clear voice cut through the din to reach the trio.

“Wonpil-ah!”

“Yes?”

“Is he done?”

“I haven’t taken a look at his leg yet!”

“It’s ok. Load him into the van first. We got to clear the tunnel. I’ll deal with his leg, you drive. Dowoon, take my car please.”

Both boys nodded in understanding before Wonpil grabbed Brain by the arms and loaded him onto the stretcher and the van.

When the door slammed shut and you turned to face him with daggers shooting out of your eyes, Brian felt like a piece of meat ready to be devoured by the female tigress.

--

“I need you to sit back and relax.”

“Lady, you really expect me to when you’re looking at me like you want to murder me?”

“My job to save lives Mr Bigshot, not snuff them out, in case you haven’t realised.”

Again, you fixed him with your signature stare.

Still, he refused to and instead, crossed his arms as he fixed you with an equally hard stare.

This time round, you gritted your teeth and made sure to slam the bottle of saline solution hard to prove your point.

Seeing that you meant business, Brian slowly unfolded his arms and leaned back as he was told to before you proceeded to roll up his pants to inspect his leg.

He watched in silence as you went about cleaning his superficial wounds, occasionally letting out a hiss when you hit a fresh wound. He noticed how he pursed your lips tight whenever you got to a particularly nasty wound, and how your breath immediately slowed, almost as though you didn’t want to disturb the patient. He continued watching as your eyebrows furrowed before you stood to give him his diagnosis.

“Your calf and ankle are swelling rather badly, especially your ankle. We’ll need to get an X-ray on that.”

“How bad is it?”

“I can’t say for sure but it’s got at least be a hairline fracture.”

The van then skidded to a stop before the doors flew open and Brian was transferred into Wonpil’s reliable hands again.

“Get him into an X-ray room, I’ll be there once I’m dressed.”

And so Brian lay there waiting on the hard metallic table for 10 minutes before you finally showed up.

--

“Finally you’ve arrived Good Doctor, thy patient has died from excessive bleeding.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic you wimp, I was only gone for 10.”

Even through the thick black glass separating you and him, Brian could spot the scowl that was clearly drawn across your face as you aggressively punched buttons on the panel to get the machine working.

“Excuse me, I don’t think a patient should be left alone at any point in time?”

Before he could even fully crane his neck to look at you, you screeched at him through the speakers.

“Would you stop moving around? I can’t get a good scan of your leg!”

For the second time that day, Brian laid back and shut his mouth on your orders and from the corner of his eye, he could see Wonpil stifling his laughter behind his fingers.

--

As Wonpil was putting the cast around his leg, Brian decided to interrogate him again.

“Is she always like that? Crazily snapping at people?”

“No. She’s pretty ok on normal days.”

“But she snaps at me all the time?”

“See, this is why she snaps at you all the time. You ask too many stupid questions.”

Curse this redhead and the Lady. I got to make them pay.

Looking out of the window, he spotted your scratched up car and he knew just the thing to do.

--

Within the next hour, you were back in his room to check on his vitals and that’s when Brian breached the topic.

“Hey Lady… about your car…”

“I haven’t gotten a quote on how much insurance you need to pay me, we’ll talk about this another time.”

“I never said I was going to pay.”

“WHAT?”

Your pen slid past the entire page, leaving a thick, ugly line across the paper.

“You heard me. I never said I was going to pay.”

He then popped a grape into his mouth and sunk back into his pillow, his arms comfortably placed behind his back as he watched your livid facial expression with glee from beneath hooded eyelids.

“You can’t do that.”

“Well, if I don’t want to pay, what can you do about it?”

And he has a point. I can’t win this fight with brute force.

You did the mental math in your head and you decided that you needed him to pay. Buying that car had drained you of your savings and you couldn’t afford another thousand dollar repair. Besides, it was partly your fault too. You should have looked before swerving out.

“How about we strike a deal?”

“Excellent! That was exactly what I had in mind.”

“So what is your proposition?”

“Be at my beck and call for my 3 day stay in the hospital. I promise I’ll pay for the insurance after that.”

After 10 minutes of unsuccessful bargaining, you left the room with a newly printed chart and a verbal promise by Brian to pay for your car repairs.

--

True to his word, Brian kept you busy for the next 3 days.

Unless he was sleeping, you had to be the runner for all his errands.

By the end of the first day, you had already gotten him sashimi for lunch, and picked up his books from his friend, Jae, just so that he can read them all.

On the second day, he texted you for an Iced Americano for his morning breakfast and apart from accidently spilling it all over your white satin blouse, you had also sprained your ankles as you stumbled over the curb by the parking spot. So, apart from ruining your outfit, you had to spend money on 2 Iced Americanos.

“That took you long enough Lady.”

“Yea, yea I know. Here’s what you asked for.”

“Thank you. Eh? What’s with that brown stain on your coat?”

“Nothing. Does your leg still hurt?”

“No but-”

“Good. Can’t talk, I got other patients to attend to.”

Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or did he notice a hobble in your step and some redness around your ankles?

--

“Could you pass me a cookie Wonpil?”

“We ran out but you can have mine.”

“Thanks.” You took his Subway cookie and took a bite out of it before exhaling.

“Why are you so busy these past 2 days?”

“Got to…do…stuff…”

“Stuff like?”

“I’ve been running errands for Brian.”

“Is that why you have a stain on your favourite satin blouse and a swollen ankle?”

“Yes.”

“The heck Y/N. Why are you still doing it for him then?”

“We had a deal and I feel bad for injuring him.”

“Well, that’s his problem! He swerved into your lane.”

“Ah it’s ok Wonpil. He’s only going to be here till tomorrow anyways. I can last another 24 hours. Thanks for the cookie! By the way, aren’t you supposed to be at the children’s ward by now?”

“Oh yes. Catch you later! I’ll patch up that ankle of yours.”

“Thanks Wonpil.”

Just as Wonpil moved into his sight, Brian moved into the shadows and immediately dialled for his friend.

“Hey Jae. Do you think you can get me a new female blouse and a pair of slippers for me? And no, don’t ask me why, just do it, please.”

--

When you came hurtling into his room with a few strands of your hair astray, Brian had to stifle his laughter.

“Oh God, Brain, are you ok?”

“I’m fine!”

“What? Then why did you press the button for?”

When he smiled knowingly at you, you marched up to him as he put up his arm in defence.

“Woah Lady-”

“Kang. Young. Hyun. This button is not for you to play around with! It says “For Emergency Use Only” This isn’t an emergency!”

You snatched the red button out of his hands and slammed it down beside his bed before you proceeded to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ears.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Just wanted to talk – pfft. I’m leaving.”

“No I’m serious, wait.”

Before you could take another step away from him, he caught onto the ends of your sleeve and you decided to grace him with just 5 minutes of your attention.

“You have 5 minutes. Shoot.”

“I heard your conversation with Wonpil today-”

“You mean you eavesdropped on us.”

“It was unintentional! I just happened to be wheeling myself along the corridors-”

“It’s fine, just carry on.” You had said as you waved him on with a flick of your wrist.

“That means I heard about your morning misadventures and I got you these as an apology. I’m sorry.”

“What are these?” You questioned as you peered into the bag.

“Just open it. You’ll see.”

You reached in and felt the smooth satin material against your fingers before you pulled out the blouse.

“I don’t think it’s the exact same one as the one you are wearing now but I hope it suffices. I also got you a pair of flats – thought it would be better for your ankle.”

“Thank…you. Anything else that I should know?”

“No – wait, actually yes.”

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

“If I ever asked you out, would you say yes?”

“I’ll… consider.”

Watching your retreating back, he smiled softly as he thought to himself: At least she didn’t flatly reject me.

--

The next day, when you came back with his form of approval for discharge signed, Brian was already sitting by the edge of the bed, waiting for you.

Placing the form in front of him, you said, “Here you go Mr Bigshot. Hopefully I’ll never have to see you again.”

“Aww come on, don’t be so mean. Give me your hand.”

You opened your palm without hesitation and he placed a pink slip of paper in it.

“Do I read it now?”

“Go ahead.”

The front was a simple IOU of the car repairs but the essence of his message was written at the back, in which it said:

“Next Friday after you end work? I’ll pick you up here. Dinner’s on me; I promise I’ll pay!”

When you looked up, Brian was holding out his pinky figure towards you and you hooked onto it with your own tightly, an eyesmile forming on his face as you did so.

“Promise.”

[dontperishyet]

Resonance

For: Merritt, @literarymerritt

Pairings: TanaEnno

Rating: G

Summary: 2K words. Sweet and Fluffy AF. A gloomy Ennoshita, a spontaneous visit from Tanaka, and a confession scene. I was inspired by one of @sonofaquiznak​ wonderful HCs.

 Merritt, my twin (lol), I hope you like this! Thank you for all the wonderful twitter convos and blessed friendship!  

Read on Ao3

Ennoshita knew he should be ecstatic—after beating Wakunan and Seijou, Karasuno was rightfully moving to the finals. He was even given the chance to play.  

But he wasn’t happy in the least.

Instead, he felt frustrated with himself, and helpless. It’s not like he wasn’t already aware that he had a long way to go until he could properly fill in Daichi’s shoes. It wasn’t really a surprise to him…it was just that being on the heated court while shouldering the hefty expectations of his teammates made something exceedingly clear: he wasn’t good enough. And though he reminded himself everyday of this very fact, that he needed to work harder to be who the team needed him to be and that Daichi was expecting him to step up to the plate, he couldn’t deny how hurt he was by those sighs of relief that his teammates let out when they saw Daichi return. It was painful.

He knew he was being dramatic, that he just needed to get over it and focus on improving. But even though it was already 11 pm, hours after the game, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. After all, dwelling on things was a well-known bad habit of his. He needed a distraction, or maybe someone to talk to. Ennoshita sat up in bed, his back resting against the backboard and he reached for his cellphone on the nightstand. He unlocked his phone and seeing that he had a new text message, hastily went to check it. There was really only one idiot that ever texted him this late at night.

From: Tanaka

Please give me the answer to #4 in the math homework. m(_ _)m I swear I’ll give you half my fortune when I get rich one day.

Ennoshita chuckled to himself and his lips pulled up into a wide smile that only Tanaka’s silly antics could achieve. This is exactly what he needed. Tanaka’s energy, charm, and even plain stupidity at times always managed to make Ennoshita forget about his negative thoughts. At first he just enjoyed being with that bald-headed firecracker, hoping that his positive energy would somehow rub off. But once he started thinking about him even when they were apart, and when those thoughts often turned into shameful, sweat-drenched dreams…things got a bit complicated. But, it would be fine if he could continue to play it off. It’s not like the feelings would ever be reciprocated. All he had to do was endure it until his breath no longer quickened when Tanaka was too close and until his mind forgot what it felt like to have Tanaka’s hand on his back.  

To: Tanaka

Yeah, that’s as likely as you actually passing math class without me cramming half the year with you. NO.

Yes, just like always. He had the act of the good, nagging friend down to the T. After this, Tanaka would insistently beg again, sending multiple pleading messages one after another, and eventually Ennoshita would give in. Tanaka would thank him, telling him he loved him (of course only in the way that bros do), and Ennoshita would sink into bed feeling just a bit more empty than he did moments before. As if every ‘I love you, man’ embedded itself into his chest and then burrowed deeper, leaving a hole in their wake.

And this would have been like any other night if Ennoshita hadn’t decided to pass the time until Tanaka’s barrage of messages by looking at their shared image history. Blame fate, impatience, or plain clumsiness, but when he hit the info button on the top right of his screen his tapped again, mistakenly hitting the call button. And then, well, panic ensued.

It was already ringing. He couldn’t possibly hang up or Tanaka would just call back. But what if Tanaka wasn’t near his phone anymore. Crap, he’d see the missed call. But he could just ignore him if he called—

“Yo, what’s up?”

"Uh..." Ennoshita twisted the edge of his cover around his index finger and he wracked his head for an excuse. “It was a butt dial, sorry. "

"Oh, it was?” Tanaka sounded deflated for a split second, but the dip in his voice was so quick Ennoshita questioned if it was his own delusions. “But now that you already called me, let’s talk.”

“Don’t you have homework you need to be doing?”

“Yup…I gave up. Are you done with yours?”

“Ages ago. Because I actually want to pass on to the next grade.”

Tanaka chuckled, “Oh come on, I’ll pass one way or another.”

“You mean you’ll pass because you have me.” Ennoshita knew it was sly of him, and that in the end this would probably just make him feel worse, but he wanted to hear Tanaka say he needed him.

“Yeah,” Tanaka hummed, “If it weren’t for you saving my ass half the time I’d be totally lost.”

Ennoshita bit his lip and let his head roll back to hit the backboard, “…As long as you know that, we’re good. Now go do your homework. “

“Ennoshita, are you doing okay?”

“Yes, I’m doing just fine. I’d be even better if you let me go to sleep.”

Tanaka sucked his teeth, “It doesn't sound like you’re doing fine. You seem down. And you were looking a bit gloomy even though we won today."

Ennoshita closed his eyes and let the sigh that he was holding in his throat seep out, “…you noticed?”

“Duh, it was obvious. Well, at least to me it was. Wait a second.” There were some shuffling on Tanaka’s end and him screaming something to his sister. Then the sound of a door slamming, “Okay. I’m biking over to your house now. Meet me outside in 20 minutes.”

“What?!” Ennoshita sat up, “Are you an idiot? It’s already almost 11:30 pm. Go back home.”

“No, you need some cheering up and fresh air. If your parents ask just make something up. See you in twenty.” And without another word, Tanaka hung up.  

Ennoshita put his phone on his nightstand and proceeded to groan into his pillow for about ten minutes. On one hand, Tanaka was a distraction from all this crap he was feeling because of his shitty performance in the game. On the other hand, Tanaka was the cause of the remaining 45% of shitty feelings he had buzzing inside him. It was a lose-lose situation. Ennoshita slowly rubbed his temples and took a deep breath—it wasn’t the end of the world. He already knew how to handle Tanaka.

Ennoshita draped a lightweight sweater over his white t-shirt and stuffed his phone in his sweatpants. He then walked downstairs and informed his parents he was going on a walk because he was still wired up from the game (well, it was a half-truth).  They nodded, it wasn’t like this was the first time he left the house at odd hours to clear his head, and Ennoshita made his way outside.

Tanaka arrived a few minutes later, forehead sweaty and an easy smile on his lips. He patted the rack on the back of his bike. “Get on. Let’s go to the park nearby.”

Ennoshita snickered and climbed on, shoving Tanaka’s head away playfully, “Stop acting like you’re inviting me onto your motorcycle or something, you loser.”

Tanaka shrugged, “I’m working with what I got.”

It was a short ride; about eight or so quiet minutes. Ennoshita simply wrapped his arms around Tanaka’s waist and listened to the whistle of the breeze as it passed them. Once at the park, they got off the bike and walked it to a green bench near the entrance. They leaned it against the end of the bench and then took a seat next to each other.

Tanaka leaned back against the bench and faced Ennoshita, “So, why are you bummed?”

Ennoshita crossed his arms on his chest and looked forward, “It’s silly and ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. Just talk to me. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Ennoshita sighed, “Fine. It’s just that…” Ennoshita turned his body to Tanaka, his right leg now hiked on the bench, “I’ll never be able to fill in Daichi’s shoes.”

“So?” Tanaka leaned towards Ennoshita, eyes narrow, “You don’t need to be another Daichi in order to be a good captain.”

“That’s the thing,” urged Ennoshita, hands bunching whatever of his sweatpants they could reach, “I don’t think I can be a good captain.”

“Yes, you can.” Tanaka replied sternly. He burned his eyes into Ennoshita’s cheek until he looked up to meet the gaze, “There isn’t anyone else in our year that is more suited to be captain.”

Ennoshita scoffed, exasperated, “Yeah, right. What the hell about me do you think makes me worthy to be a captain?”

“Everything!” Tanaka yelled, hands desperately signaling to all of Ennoshita, “Fucking everything. You’re perfect. Selfless. You are always looking after other people and worry about them. You are super smart, a great teacher, grounded, considerate, funny, beautiful, and a great volley ball player.” Tanaka huffed, eyes tracing the shape of Ennoshita’s face, “God, how fucking blind are you.”

Ennoshita sat silent for a moment, keeping hold of Tanka’s gaze as if trying to find something within it. He spoke slowly, “…you think I’m beautiful?”

Tanaka’s eyes widen and he sputtered, " I-I mean your receiving form, you know..." He then rubbed at his head aggressively and sighed, looking away with bright red ears, "But your face too…everything about you, really."

Ennoshita took a deep breath and pressed on, "...Do you like me?

Tanaka nodded, face turning back towards Ennoshita. He was beet red, but fearless, "I do. I have for a while."

Ennoshita covered his face with his hands, “I do too. But I thought you were only into girls and would find me boring."

Tanaka shook his head vigorously, pulling Ennoshita’s hands off his face and into the warm grip of his own, "No way would I find you boring. I mean, I still like girls, but I like you much more than any girl I’ve met. Also I thought you’d find me annoying and were only putting up with me."

“I doubt any normal person would be able to put up with you unless they liked you in one form or another…” Ennoshita laughed, a tiny grin gracing his lips, “What about girls you meet tomorrow? Or the day after that.”

“Hey, believe me!” Tanaka pouted, “I like you more than any of them.”

“I believed you.” Ennoshita whispered while squeezing Tanaka’s hands slightly, “Thank you.”

Tanaka gave him a toothy, carefree grin, “You don’t have to thank me, stupid. I should be the one to thank your parents for making you.” He stood up and pulled Ennoshita up with him, “Now let’s get you back home before your parents send out a search squad.”

Ennoshita laughed, a blissful warmth filling his stomach. He had forgotten all his worries of today, and would be able confront his worries of tomorrow with fortified spirit. There was a magic to Tanaka and being with him felt so effortless, welcoming, and natural. Sure, before there was always a bitter aftertaste to their time together—but not anymore. Just in case, Ennoshita occasionally pinched himself to make sure it wasn’t in an extremely involved lucid dream.

Their ride back to Ennoshita’s house was a little less quiet this time. Ennoshita yet again wrapped his arms around Tanaka’s waist and rested his forehead against his back. Tanaka hummed a few random tunes he only knew little bits of and made horrid impersonations of the singers, causing both of them to break out in bouts of laughter. Once at Ennoshita’s front door, Ennoshita hopped off and stood in front of the bike and Tanaka.

“Thanks for coming over.” Ennoshita clasped his hands behind his back, “So does this mean we are officially going out?

“No shit, Sherlock.” Tanaka raised his eyebrow, “Why would I confess to you if that weren’t the case?”

“I guess that’s true. Well…” Ennoshita leaned forward and placed a chaste, feather light kiss on Tanaka’s lips, pulling away with a mischievous smile, “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

And Ennoshita quietly walked into his house, leaving Tanaka alone to dissolve onto his bike.

[destinywhisperslove]

My Love Story: The Search for my Happy Place

Once Upon A Time, a man and a woman went dancing at a club called Destiny and immediately conceived a daughter by the same name. She grew up without a father, surrounded by the love of her sisters as they united together against the darkness that consumed their family, shielding each other from the rough anger and depression that plagued their mother. She taught them that men were unflinchingly evil, and it was hard for Destiny to deny, when she saw all that happened to the women she loved.

Therefore, she thought God was gracious in making her ugly and undesirable, because she vehemently hated the lust and the control in men's eyes. She was no object. She did not want to be beautiful, she did not want attention.

Then she fell in love with Jesus, who told her that He saw her, knew everything about her, and thought she was the most beautiful in all Creation. He sent her constant dreams of God reading her a love story, later she realized her love story, as she floated in a beautiful garden next to a mysterious man.

This became her "happy place" as life began to unravel. Mommy became increasingly filled with rage until one day she had a stroke that left her paralyzed. Now Destiny, still in high school, was the only one working. She hated to watch as they all got thinner, blessed periodically by food left from members of their church. She was the first in her family to graduate from high school, #5 in her class, but the best part was feeling her mother's pride for the first time in her life.

She can still feel the chills as she dialed 911 after her brother pushed her sister in one of his many drunken rages, running to the shower as the police broke down the door and the dogs barked. The texts on her phone from her best friend, her desired future husband, as he suddenly declared it was too much for him, and she needed to stop speaking to him immediately, and she held back her tears as she finally came out to comfort her sisters. She still sought out her Happy Place, even though the man was once again a stranger.

She was so alone but she had to hold on.

In college, she decided to give actual dating a try. She was stalked and hated by a random boy that she was nice to because she went to a Halloween party with another guy. The other guy, who declared he knew she was "the one" he would marry after 2 weeks of knowing each other, immediately cursed the day she was born when she said she didn't want to date him and did his best to make going to school fearful and intimidating.

Soon after, a friend took her to the top of a hill to go stargazing. She had never seen so many stars in her life. He told her about his grandma, the missionary, how she always told him he should make more friends like her. He told her about his First, which she found amusing because people often confused Destiny at school with this other girl. He was so cold and she was so warm, and she promised him that even if he no longer believed in romance or true love, she would still be there for him.

She kept good on that promise when he went away for college and "broke free". That very first week he was away from his pastor parents, he called her at 3 am, completely drunk, going on and on about how so many women wanted him, how he was going to be wild now and that if she truly wanted him, she needed to be wild too. Who was this man anyway?

Still, she held on, inch by inch giving into his pressures, sure the man with the same vision and passion as she had, the same insecurities, was just hiding behind this obvious mask. He told her the innocence she clung to was a false god and that she needed to seduce him, to be like the girl from Grease at the end (they actually dressed as Danny and Sandy that Halloween). He was more wild and more drunk then all the boys in his fraternity, and she would drive 1.5 hours just to come collect him and bring him to bed when they called. He was suicidal and stupid and out of control. Finally he said it was now or never.

And she finally gave in, and on a freezing rainy day in January, he quietly said that he thought she would be more like his First and coldly turned and said they were through. A rage boiled up inside of her like she had never known, and she yelled and cursed so loudly that he freaked out because the whole frat house could hear. She refused to be that. She refused to be tossed aside.

It was that stubbornness that drove them through 4 more years. Her journal became silent because she so badly wanted to forget. Her sisters begged her to leave him. She couldn't tell them why she stayed, why she gave him something he didn't even deserve. She was their role model, and she had gone and done everything they promised they would never do.

He tried to leave her so many times. She dug in, held tighter, humbled herself as he began experimenting more with drugs and drinking and general lack of self-restraint ("but I was always faithful" he said). His parents, the pastors, clung to her and said to have faith and not give up on their son. They were at a loss with what to do with him.

 Then one Christmas Eve, he got down on one knee in front of his entire family in an elaborate White Elephant Gift Exchange proposal. He was sincere and earnest and wanted to be a man worth marrying and she said yes.

Fast forward through a hellish engagement, complete with monster-in-law. She held the ring in her hand, wondered if it was really worth it. All of God's promises and all of her dreams seemed like fallacy. She threw the ring at him, but immediately took it back. They had made it this far...

May 17, 2014 was a beautiful day. She had just graduated college after a wonderful internship teaching and had an amazing adventurous honeymoon planned, as well as a new life with her new husband in NC. Her sisters pleaded with her that morning not to walk down the aisle, but this would seal the deal. She would finally legalize what she had done with her body 2 years before. She would be a wife.

She was so calm but nervous at the same time. He hadn't slept and this was one of the few times he actually matched and looked presentable. His transfixed eyes as his father read the vows made her giggle, especially when she tried to repeat "until death do us part". Everyone said she was a stunning bride, they couldn't get over it. She stole the show. She thought, "Finally, this is what I have been waiting for."

They camped and drove for 3 weeks through 14 different states, experiencing every type of extreme weather. By this time, he never really touched her, but she didn't care. He was happy and calm and hopeful so she was too.

There are no words to describe the next year of her life. Breath-taking and exhilarating as it was to finally live her dream as a teacher, darkness lived in drunken anger and anguish, as she fought to cover up the man he had become. He refused to work until a big-time CEO knocked on their door and offered him a high paying salary because he was worth it. Therefore, she worked two jobs, hiding money so they could pay bills instead of letting him blow it on weed and alcohol. She wrestled knives from his hand as he began to cut himself again, and frantically untied belts wrapped around his neck when he would try to hang himself in the closet. Every day, she wasn't sure if he would be alive when she got home, what kind of mood he would be in. She got his parents involved but no one else and he pretended to get help, but only got worse.

She was cut off from her family and her friends, alone with someone who didn't want to sleep in the same bed with her, instead staying up until 6am, lusting after videos with increasingly disturbing titles. She didn't care though. It was better than those few times it was directed at her when he snuck in at 3am, quiet (shh don't speak, you'll ruin the mood) in the dark, fast and gone. She hated that more than anything she had ever hated in her life.

She finally got him a job and was amazed at how much control he tried to take over the money, buying expensive foods and eating lavishly, getting drunk off of fancy liquors. He surprised her at her job as a server on Valentine's Day, complete with balloons and chocolate and a mostly empty bottle of liquor. Luckily she didn't claim him because he was banned from the premises. Unfortunately, that also meant he wouldn't let her work there anymore (besides he was jealous of the male servers).

Soon they couldn't afford their bills and one day, when buying alcohol was more important than having gas to get to work, he drunkenly drove with their toaster, a wedding gift still in the box, and put a sign on it and tried to sell it to people at a gas station. She hunkered down into the seat and heard loud, disturbing vulgarities and he jumped into the car and sped off. "Was that man cursing at you?" she asked tentatively. "No I cursed him out because he looked at me like I was beneath him..." A little later she snuck out to pawn her bike so she could go to work, clutching the pawn ticket with a prayer as she secretly stopped by the food pantry, hoping that it represented their lowest point.

It wasn't.

Her Happy Place became a small ember. Obviously she deserved this, because she chose to love a man other than the one in her dream, and she was obliged to pay the price of her sin and weakness and shame. She would stay with him until he died or until he left her and she was absolved of her allegiance to him. The one thing she wouldn't do was bring a child into this. She had a choice but she wouldn't make her own baby pay for her too.

"Have you ever had sex against your will?" My goodness, all of these questions. I just  want the pills and I want to be out of here. He tried to hide them from her, saying that a family is what they needed, but she was aggressively protective of her unborn children, and told him he was not fit to be a father.

Still, they got a house, a beautiful one with her dream kitchen, 4 bedrooms and a playroom and garage. They made it through a whole year of marriage ("The first year is always rough" his mom kept telling her. "Barbara (his aunt) had to deal with her husband's drunkenness and anger all the time, but see they are still together 45 years later")(She did not envy their relationship).

He quit his job that he barely went to in a drunken rage and took to waking her up at 5 or 6 am, yelling at her that she was F-ing lazy, that her mom was a pig, that her sisters were trying to brainwash her, that he was going to leave.

Please do, please do. She whispered.

Her sisters visited for the first time ever and were horrified by the scene before them. It was easy to smile for the camera, to show off her dream kitchen and her little garden. Now they saw what the camera hid, the mountains of beer and liquor bottles in the garage after such a short time, his slovenliness apparently in the trash and food wrappers, little packets of weed and bottles of pills and bongs mixed in the bags he refused to unpack. Seeing their horror at this and the way he treated her ripped her resolved, splintering what little façade she had managed for this long.

By this point it was summer, and he could no longer sneak out to buy alcohol. She cut his debit card and made him promise to at least try. It was embarrassing for him too, for his sisters to see what he made their life. A week later, he left their dog outside and she searched for him, confused, noting her car was gone. She looked at her phone and had 6 missed calls, and learned he had totaled her car on his way back from "the gas station". He was a complete wreck himself.

It was the last straw. She said she couldn't take it anymore. She said this was not the life she had envisioned and she didn't want to keep suffering and picking up after him, that he had to be a grown man and take care of himself.

He left for a little while to stay with his parents and get counseling for real. Now his mom had to deal with his drunken rages and she called Destiny several times, saying she was going to Baker Act him. Destiny felt so.....free.

At this time, her Bestie sent her a book called "Why Does He Do That?" She couldn't have known it was God's perfect timing, because Destiny wouldn't have bothered reading it, knowing she was resigned to her fate anyway. Every word jumped out at her, every page made her cry until she was exhausted with tears. She was going to do it. She didn't know how, but she was going to end it.

The great, powerful, dreadful word swelled in her chest until it burst from her lips: Divorce