#I wonder if honda regrets what they did or if they even knew what they signed up for

[crnl-chicken-tots]

Millions of people have watched Deadpool and Wolverine since opening day. that being said-

There has to be several if not hundreds, maybe a few thousands of people with one, right??? I wanna know how many Honda Odyssey owners are now haunted by the atrocities those two committed in one right now

imagine having to go to work in an odyssey and getting stuck in traffic with enough time to think about that scene and then some

Nevertheless I'm hoping Honda's sales are peaking right now, I'm rooting for them after giving us that gift

[imagineanime2022]

Tohru's Cousin

Shigure Sohma X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3821

Requested: @twilightlover2007

Requested: Ok, I've been ITCHING to see this. Your writing for fb is FANTASTIC! I would love to have Tohru meet her cousin on her mom's side, her cousin locates her and they set up a meeting.

I'd love to see headcannons of her meeting a few of the Sohma's. While some, Kyo, might be worried she's more like her mother's wild side she's actually quite a bookworm. I'd love for her to end up with Haru or Shigure whichever you think would be best! Please and thank you!!!

Warning: Parent death, no mention of a father, reader is injured, this is long!!

How The Boys View Tohru's Cousin

You sat at your desk looking at the letter that your mother had left you, she had said that there were things that she had never found the right time to tell you, though she figured that you should know. Things about your family and the reason that she very rarely spoke about them. Part of you wondered if you should just leave it be but the only person that you had was your mother, you had never been an outgoing person and when your mother got sick it was an excuse to stay in the house and deal with as few people as possible. That would get lonely now though with literally no one in the house. Even if you didn’t talk, having your mother there made up for it.

Finally you leaned forward taking the letter in your hands you took a deep breath and opened it, you smiled at the familiar handwriting of your mother’s:

My Dear (Y/N)

I know that I should have told you this in person when we were both there to make amends but I’m too much of a coward to approach this subject head on. The sicker I get the more I realise that you will be alone by the time you read this, I can’t leave you like that, not when I know that you still have family out there, a cousin. Younger than you and an aunt out there hopefully, with any hope they will be willing to give you the family that you need now.

When I was younger, I didn’t realise how much she needed help, your aunt was the leader of a gang back then and to me it was pointless and dangerous and for the most part did only bring trouble to us all, that was what prompted me to cut ties with her but as I got older I knew that I had just abandoned her and left her to whatever fate befell her.

Then she sent me a letter asking me to meet with her and a picture of a small girl, her name was Tohru Honda, that was what she had told me. When that letter came through it reminded me of the fact that I had walked away and still she wanted to make it better, she is a better person than I am, that’s why I send you to her now.

As you can tell I never accepted the offer and she never attempted to contact me again but I hope that she’s still in the same place, you will at least have someone to reach out to if you need them.

The letter went on to give you the address that your mum had last known your aunt to be living at as well as your grandparents last known address. You decided that you had nothing better to do then to go and at least apologise for the way that you mother had behaved right?

You were starting to regret ever trying to find your long lost family. It had you socialising with more people then you had ever wanted to, in fact when you knocked on the door of the apartment was not your aunt but your grandfather and grandmother both of whom seemed to recognise you for your resemblance to your mother. “We were told that she had passed, we were in the process of getting a letter to you ourselves.” Your grandfather had said “with everything else going on, we sent it out later than we hoped.” “I see, well my mum left me a letter explaining that my aunt was trying to reconnect, I don’t know if she still wants to or not but I at least wanted to apologise for my mother ignoring her all these years and you it would seem.” You explained. “Your mother was a good girl even when she was younger, Kyoko was the troubled one, it was no wonder that your mother separated herself from her and us, we spent a lot of time chasing after Kyoko while she chased after us all. Eventually she fell behind. I don't blame her for the distance between us, I’m just happy that you want to get to know us.” Your grandmother explained. “I wish that there was some other way to tell you this but your Aunt has passed as well.” Your grandfather informed you. “But her daughter Tohru is still here in fact, we are having out house renovated so that she could move in, maybe you could too if you like here.” “How are you so accepting after everything that my mother did?” You asked. “You are not your mother, you should not answer for what she has done not to mention your here, you want to be different do you not?” Your Grandfather asked. “You should meet Tohru, she'd be happy to have someone other than us around, you may be able to connect with her a little more, even if you are older.” Your grandmother suggested. “Okay, I can leave my number, I have to check in for the room that I booked but she can call whenever she wants… If she wants.” You explained as you stood from where you were sitting. “Thank you for seeing me today.”

You had only been settled into your room for about 2 hours before there was a knock on your door, you frowned not really knowing who would be knocking on your door “Are you (Y/N)?” A voice asked before you had even gotten a look at the body it belonged to. It only took a second for your eyes to fall on the girl with mid length brown hair, brown eyes and soft features, behind her was a taller blonde girl and another girl dressed in all black with black hair and a mysterious air about her. “Yes, that’s me.” You finally answered, waiting for whoever of the three to speak. “I’m Tohru, I know that you left your number to call but I couldn’t wait to meet you.” The brown haired girl said, your eyes widened. “These are my friends Saki and Arisa. Do you mind if we come in?” “Oh of course.” You stepped aside allowing them all to come in “please um, sit anywhere.” “You seem surprised…” Tohru frowned. “I just wasn’t expecting that you would want to meet me, you know considering it was my mother who cut connections with everyone, it wouldn’t be unfair for you to want nothing to do with me.” You shrugged. “No, I don’t think that it’s your fault that all of that happened and Mum always talked about the fun that she had with her sister before they grew apart, she missed her and I promised that if we ever met that I would try to make it work, honestly I thought that you would never contact us.” Tohru explained. “I didn’t know about you, when mum left I wasn’t born, she kept you a secret from me, only told me in a letter that she left me after she died.” You answered. “I’ve never been good at talking to people or making friends so really I don’t have anyone back home, I thought that maybe I could make some friends here and fix what my mother had broken.” “Well then we can be your first friends, Grandpa said that he offered you a place to stay, so why don’t you stay for a little while and see if you like it here.” Tohru suggested. “There are some other people that I could introduce you to as well.”

When Tohru sat down to eat with the Sohma’s that evening they could all tell that she was distracted but Kyo was the one to point it out “what is wrong with you?” he asked, causing Tohru to jump looking at him. “Oh sorry, I was just thinking, I met someone today, she needs some friends, I was hoping that maybe I could introduce her to all of you.” Tohru explained. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Yuki asked. “I don’t think her touching you is going to be a problem, she’s very reserved, it’s just that she’s my cousin and her Mum died, she doesn’t have anyone else, so I want her to feel welcome here, so she can stay close to the family that she has left.” Tohru explained. “You are always thinking about someone else.” Shigure smiled. “I don’t see the problem with you bringing her here as long as these two behave.” “Us!? What about you?” Kyo asked. “I don’t go around starting fights with everyone I meet.” Shigure dismissed him. “No, you just flirt with them instead.” Yuki muttered as the three launched into an argument which had become common at the table only stopping when Kyo launched across the table at Shigure, almost knocking everything everywhere.

It was only a week later that Tohru arranged for you to come over for dinner, she had made a huge meal for you all to enjoy and hoped that you would be able to find a friend in Shigure who was closer to your age then she was. What she hadn’t expected was for Hatori and Ayame to be there as well, when she entered the house with you, she had expected Shigure, Kyo and Yuki but she was face with the other two as well, she didn’t mind but it seemed that you did. “When you said meet other people, I assumed they would be other girls, are you trying to get me a new friend or boyfriend?” You asked. “O-oh I wasn’t trying anything, I swear!” Tohru panicked as she waved her hands around. “Is everything okay Miss Honda?” Shigure called over as he caught sight of your hushed conversation. “Everything is fine, we just weren’t expecting such a large group.” Tohru answered nervously. “Oh don’t worry we’re harmless, I promise.” Shigure smiled, his eyes caught on the book tucked under your arm “you like to read?” “I am better at reading than making friends.” You explained. “Maybe that will change here.” Shigure shrugged, “My name is Shigure Sohma.” “(Y/N) Honda.” You answered. “Well this is going to be confusing if we have to call you both Miss Honda.” Shigure muttered his hand coming up to his chin as he talked. “You can just call me (Y/N).” You suggested “there’s no reason for all the formalities.” “Then in that case please call me Shigure.” He smiled as he turned to the other two that he had been sitting with “Those two are close friends of my Hatori Sohma and Ayame Sohma. There are two friends of Tohru, Kyo Sohma and Yuki Sohma.” “Wow, such a big family.” You observed. “Not as close as some may think but yes we are a big family.” Shigure nodded as he led you over to the other two where he offered you a seat “what did you do back home?” He asked. “I had odd jobs, mostly working from home, especially after mum got sick.” You answered. “What do you all do?” “I have a shop in town where I design clothes, you should stop by sometime, I’m sure I could make something you like.” Ayame declared, you smiled softly, he seemed nice. “I’m a Doctor though I primarily work for the Sohma family.” Hatori answered and you nodded. “Shigure?” You asked and he smiled as he looked at you. “I’m a writer.” He answered. “Writer?” You asked. “That’s right.” He nodded. “I don’t suppose that you’ve read anything from me.” “I have a large collection, it’s highly likely that your books are in there too.” You answered with a nod “I’ve never been good with names, even if they write some of my most loved novels… Sorry.” “No need to apologise, all I ask is that you enjoy the work that I put out.” Shigure smiled softly as the conversation continued for the rest of the evening.

By the end of the week you had decided that you would stay, you didn’t move there straight away instead taking some time to move everything that you needed to your new home and finally finding a job, with the small amount of money that your mother had left you, you were able to secure a place to stay without a job but you still needed one to live. It didn’t take long to get a job at a small bookstore, with your knowledge of books and opinions on the subject when asked. You became better with the names of the writers and had even read all of the books that Shigure had written and even some that he had recommended. You were in that very shop now, you were the only one working that day, it was a small shop but the woman who ran it was old and had no children to help her. You were shelving some of the new stock when the door opened “well don’t you look at home.” You recognised the voice as Shigure’s. “What are you doing here?” You asked. “I was actually looking for someone.” He answered, “I believe that her shift ends soon.” “Her shift does end soon but what could you possibly need with her?” you asked as you turned to glance at him. Since meeting him a few months ago, you had become good friends and often teased each other. He was a flirt but the distance he kept between the two of you gave you the impression that that was all it was flirting. “Well I was hoping that she would join me for dinner tonight.” He said as he leant against the counter of the small store. “Dinner?” You asked. “What’s the occasion?” “Nothing you need to worry about… Dinner?” He asked again as he watched you place the last of the books on the shelf ready for the next day. “Sure, let's go.” You nodded.

The next day you were in the shop as usual, it was a slow moving day but when your next customer came in you were glad of the fact “You. What’s your name?” She asked, she seemed to darken to the entire shop as her shadow stretched from her feet. “My name is (Y/N).” You answered. “You're the one he talks about, the one he sees.” She moved closer and you suddenly felt as if you weren’t safe. “The one who stole him from me!” You gripped the counter behind you as you tried to stand your ground, you hadn’t taken anyone, she definitely had the wrong person. “I’m sorry but I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tried to say but as you hands lifted in a sign of surrender she grabbed your wrist, grip tight as she pulled you closer. “He was always by my side, what is so special about you!?” If venom could be fashioned into words those would be the ones, almost as if she wished she could kill you with them. “Who?” You asked. “Akito! Let go of her!” Shigure. He was the one that she was talking about. “She stole you from me!” Akito yelled. “No you pushed me away, she had nothing to do with the way our relationship has progressed, now let go of her!” Shigure ordered. Akito yelled, sharp and dangerous before throwing you to the floor, the speed and angle that you fell caused a sharp pain in your wrist, you were even sure that you heard it break. “We’re going home.” Akito ordered. “No, you are going home, I am going to make sure that (Y/N) is okay.” He answered as he walked past her crouch near you, there was another growl before you heard her step retreat. “Can you move?” “Who was that?” You asked pushing yourself up on your good arm to get into a proper sitting position. “The head of the family, she’s been a vile person to know for a long time now, the rest of the family had pulled away from her long before now but I had no one to pull back.” He answered. “Come on, we have to get your wrist checked.”

The next morning your wrist had been casted and you were back at the store, you hadn’t spoken to Shigure and you didn’t expect to instead it was Hatori who came to see you on the first day. “I’m only here to check on you.” He promised. “How are you holding up?” “I’m fine.” You answered. “And your wrist?” He asked. “Those painkillers work wonders.” You answered. “You know that he never meant for this to happen.” Hatori finally said “he is sly and cunning but he would never have wanted you to get hurt.” “Doesn’t matter, he’s not here you are. He never wanted me anyway, your head of the family had it all wrong.” “Is that what you think?” Hatori asked. “You are very much like Tohru from what I hear. It doesn't run in the family.” “What are you talking about?” You asked. “Tohru told us about her mother and while I didn’t know yours it would see that they were both similar, it was why they clashed so much maybe.” He suggested. “Maybe.” You answered. “You are nothing like that, you would rather let go of what you want if it meant that he’d be safe.” Hatori answered. “Sometimes the best course of action is not to take action at all.” You explained the door to the shop opened signalling the arrival of another customer.

The next day Ayame was the one to come and see you “Now why are you hiding away in here dear?” Ayame asked. “I’m not hiding, this is my job.” You smiled as he walked over to the counter. “And yet I don’t see you anywhere else.” He argued as he leaned against the counter. “You should have been given half the confidence that the rest of your family seems to possess.” He sighed. “What are you talking about?” You asked. “If only either one of you were brave enough to take what you wanted.” He sighed. “He’s worse than usual without you around, more antagonistic and annoying.” “It’s been two days, he’ll be fine.” You answered. “Can you blame me for wanting to keep the rest of me intact.” “I guess not.” Ayame sighed “but this has nothing to do with keeping yourself intact, your family has never been good at self preservation, Tohru has shown us that.” “I’m not Tohru.” You reminded him. “(Y/N) what are you still doing here dear, you need to pack.” The old lady who runs the store Miss Okai said. “I told you I didn’t need the extra time.” You smiled at her “it’s only a trip back to my old town to see some old friends.” “Go, now child the quicker you leave the quicker you see them.” She smiled, pushing you towards the door “go”.

“Shigure!” Ayame yelled as he all but fell into the living room of the small house. “You have to stop her!” “Who?” Shigure asked his eyes moving to the man who was seemingly heaving breaths. “(Y/N)! The curse has been broken, you don’t have to worry about Akito, I know what happened but she’s leaving, she said that she’s going to see old friends.” Ayame explained. “What’s the problem with that?” Shigure asked. “Shigure she has no friends back home remember, if you let her leave now you might not see her again, are you really okay with that?” Ayame asked. “You should go and see her.” Tohru said from where she was in the kitchen. “She spoke to me today, she said that she would probably be gone for a while, that I could call her whenever I wanted but that she would be here.” “You're worried?” Shigure asked. “This was the first place that she’s belonged to for a long time and Akito made her doubt that.” Tohru answered “I’m worried that if we let her leave now, she’ll never find somewhere to settle again.”

You sat on the sofa bag packed in the corner, some of the things that you thought you might need on your travels, you had decided that you needed a break even if that meant leaving everyone behind for a while. Your train left in the morning so you had to wait until then even if you were given a half day at work. “They were right about you leaving.” Shigure, you hadn’t heard that voice for a few days and only now do you realise how much you miss it. “What does it matter to you?” You asked, you didn’t bother to ask how he had gotten in, you were sure that he’d side step the question. “You didn’t tell me that you were leaving.” He said as he walked towards you. “I wasn’t aware that I needed to.” You frowned. “They all think that you need me, I don’t think that's true.” Shigure said as he came to stand in front of you “it’s me that needs you.” “What?” You asked as he leaned forward, hands placed on either side of you keeping you pinned to the sofa. “I need you.” He answered, pressing a kiss to your temple “I want you.” Another to your cheek. “I love you.” the last a kiss on the lips, soft, tentative as he one of his hands came up around the back of your head to hold you in place, pressing harder now that you were pushing him away exploring more of you than anyone else ever had, his tongue swiping gently against your bottom lip asking for entrance only pulling away when you needed to breathe. “You love me?” You asked. “More than you could ever know.” He promised “for a long time I chased Akito but she never wanted me, not the way I wanted her and then you came along, innocent and unburdened, you got to know me as Shigure and I loved every moment of you, my best memories are the ones I share with you.” “Then we should make some more?” You suggested, it sounded like a question and he hated that. “We will make more, no matter who tries to stop us.” He promised his hand moving down to gently rest on the cast on your wrist. “We can still see the world if that is what you want but I won’t let you do it alone.” “I leave tomorrow.” You reminded him and he smiled as he flopped down in the seat next to you. “We leave tomorrow.” He smirked, pressing another kiss to your cheek, his hand playing with your hair and drawing you closer “and then once we come back we’ll show everyone that we are the best thing that ever happened to each other.”

Request Here!!

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 29

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We're finally on the way home kids...

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery. Beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

The clock on the dashboard of Delia’s Honda glows bright blue, digital colon blinking between the six and five every second like a heartbeat. Only seven more minutes until the CVS opens. Leo scans the parking lot for the dozenth time. It’s still nearly empty, unchanged since they pulled in ten minutes ago after a drive twice as long as it needed to be. The pharmacy is the only store with any lights on, the rest of the strip mall’s windows and signs are dark. Errant snowflakes flurry through the light cast by the street lamps, inconsistent and sparse, borrowed from a passing storm. It would be peaceful if it weren’t for the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. 

Leo drags a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. He can’t even remember the last time he pulled an all-nighter. It must have been back when he was young enough for it not to feel like he’d been hit by a bus. Beside him, Aiden is still and quiet, save for the just-audible exhales he forces between pursed lips. Measured and even like he’s trying to stave off tears or panic or pain or some combination of all three. They hadn’t spoken on the ride over, both tensely checking the mirrors to make sure they weren’t being followed. 

Not that there was anything to say. 

…

He couldn’t even look at him.

If Aiden were a normal teenager—whatever that means—he’d be giving him hell. How could you be so impulsive? I already thought I lost you once today and now you’re jumping at the next chance? Do you have any idea what that would be like for me? Trying to get on with my life after they’d taken you back? Can’t you see how much I care about you? 

But he couldn’t say any of that. Didn’t know what to say, so he couldn’t look at him right now. Aiden quietly resumed his charade. Sure, the raid wasn't over yet but Leo couldn’t help wondering if he was putting on an extra show of cooperation as a demonstration of goodwill. 

Did he regret what he almost did? Or just the fact that he got caught? 

When he was sure Aiden’s eyes were closed, Leo looked into his face. The ruse wasn’t at all convincing, Leo knew him too well. For starters, the overwrought way Aiden managed his breath was a dead giveaway. A far cry from the gentle, inherent rhythm of sleep even he managed. Leo had clocked more minutes than he was willing to admit frozen in the hallway, letting himself feel an undeserved modicum of relief when that smooth sound reached his ears.

Just as telling was the determination in the tension of his jaw, only a little diluted by the way he was holding the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it from trembling. He was braver than Leo could ever give him credit for. He barely understood the first thing about this kid, yet here he was, reading every twitch of his brows and hitch of his breath like he had the whole frame of reference. 

Thankfully, this charade didn’t solely hinge on his or Aiden’s poor acting skills. The devil was in the details on this one. It was the set that truly sold it and revealed just how much practice Delia has had at this. 

Greeting cards crowded the windowsill, all sure to have handwritten messages on the inside. Either abandoned and repurposed or manufactured for this explicitly. A handmade quilt was tucked over the foot of the bed, balloons filled one corner up to the ceiling, and fresh flowers sat on all three tables. A hand-painted ‘Keep Fighting’ sign stretched across the wall with messages and names written over handprints. He recognized Delia’s handwriting in one corner. There’s no way she had recruited so many sympathizers so at least half of those notes and wildly different signatures had to have been done by her hand. Again, he was unsure whether to be unnerved or impressed by the level of dedication. Which was about as terrifying as it was comforting because maybe it meant the agents really weren’t coming back.   

And that was about all the time he could spend distracting himself from what the fuck was going on and where the hell was that damn sister of his. 

It was all he could do not to compulsively check his phone every second. Was it on? Was it even still in his pocket? What if he didn’t get service in this corner of the hospital? 

By the time there was a knock on the door, he had wound himself up so much that he jumped to his feet. In his flat-out panic, he forgot any recognition of the cadence of knocks and was certain they were caught but he was just pinned to the spot like an idiot. When the curtains parted, of course it was only Noah and he knew that, but he had passed the useful kind of adrenaline-fueled exhaustion about five hours ago. 

“They’ve given the all clear. Everything good here?” Leo’s obvious lack of composure earned raised eyebrows from Noah. 

He cleared his throat and straightened, his lower back tight after trying to conform to the chair. “As far as I know…they came in but a nurse made them leave before—” He resisted the impulse to look at Aiden who hadn’t moved, save opening his eyes to watch them. A deer frozen on the edge of the yard, afraid bolting would mean certain death. Ironic. “Where’s Delia?”

Now Noah looked caught out. “She’s, uh, she’s got her hands full with a…patient…” 

Leo struggled to keep his voice even. “What? Did they find something?” 

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s…look it’s better if you don’t know the details. I’m sure you want to get out of here anyway.” He cast a meaningful glance at Aiden. “Here are some notes for the prescriptions. They’re ready to fill at the pharmacy, antibiotics and—”

“Wait a second.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “How deep into this shit are you two? I’m grateful for what you did for us but this doesn’t seem like something you should be making a habit of.” 

Noah had the gall to chuckle—little shit—but when he saw Leo’s expression he quickly swallowed it. “Hey, man, I get it. There’s a reason I don’t tell my family. But I’m sure you know Delia well enough to know she’s not a ‘follower’.” He even used air quotes around the word. “We’re not even in the same unit. We didn’t realize we were both doing this independently until one of our shelter contacts introduced us.” Leo didn’t even try to mask his doubt so Noah continued, “For what it’s worth, it’s a lot safer for both of us having each other’s backs. But as you well know, the risks are never zero when you’re on this side of the law.” 

On this side of the law. 

The phrase twisted and turned in his head as Noah led them out through the labyrinth of back stairwells, quiet wards, and service elevators. It pressed against his thoughts as they huddled in a supply closet from a rush of doctors responding to a code blue. It loomed over him as he rested his hands on Aiden’s shoulders when he nearly jumped out of the wheelchair at the slam of a door. It echoed loudest when he was behind the wheel and it was on him to get them home safe. And figure everything else out. 

…

“L-Leo?” Aiden ducks his chin when Leo looks over, like he didn’t intend to say his name out loud and isn’t sure what to do with his attention now that he has it. He picks at the cuticle of his right thumb, lips moving like he’s trying to shape his words just right before speaking. After a minute of that, he presses them together, flattens his hands on his thighs and meets Leo’s eyes. “Mmm’sorry…before…mmm…” His chin starts to tremble and it’s obvious he wants to look away but he forces himself to maintain eye contact. “I-I-I…mmm…mmm…” 

“Alright, it’s okay.” Leo can’t bear the kid’s self-imposed confession. “I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand what might have possessed you but, anyway, we’re good. Water under the bridge.” It feels a little blunt and more than a little awkward but he adds, “You’re not in any trouble,” like Delia said dozens of times throughout the night. 

“Mmm…but…I’mmm…I-I-I…” Aiden furrows his brow like he’s still trying to find a word, lips moving, but tears well in his eyes, threatening to spill the longer he searches. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Leo repeats gently. “It’s all good.” 

Aiden doesn’t look placated at all. He balks at Leo, visibly distressed, lips quivering as he pauses mid-silent-syllable. 

Shit. That’ll encourage the kid to communicate more, just cut him off like an impatient ass. But if this is just some other backwards Companion obedience thing… Leo’s out of energy for trying to wade through how exactly to handle this. He has so much research to do. Is it even safe to do research?

“I’m sorry, hon. Look” Aiden flinches when Leo's hand meets his shoulder. 

He grimaces at Leo apologetically, shaking his head at himself. He swipes at a tear with the back of his hand and shakes his head again, a ragged exhale escaping his lips.  

“I know it’s not easy, we’ll figure it out together.”   

Aiden looks up, biting his lips together as he tries to blink back the rest of his tears. It’s heartbreaking to watch. Leo hopes he doesn’t think there’s any problem with him crying when he needs to. At the same time, Leo can also understand why he wouldn’t want to always be breaking down. 

“For now, let’s just focus on getting home, okay?” 

Aiden nods, pulling his hands into his sleeves and wiping away the last of the tears. He puts on a brave face.  

“Good boy.” 

Aiden looks away shyly. Leo opens his mouth to take it back, to apologize for saying something so patronizing, so offensive. He meant it more as a ‘good sport’, ‘atta boy’. He— 

There, behind the fist Aiden rests his cheek against as he pretends to look out the window, is a hint of a smile. 

Only this kid can shatter his heart and melt it in the span of five minutes. 

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@pirefyrelight

[shedreamsofstars]

our fingers dancing when they meet

five times their hands didn’t touch and one time they did

i.

Kyo’s hand skated along the top of the metal railing as he walked down the school steps. It was late, and despite the balmy weather, the metal was stone cold to the touch. He glanced around him absently, more out of habit than actually looking for anyone, but his heart skipped a beat as he spotted a familiar figure standing below.

Tohru stood with one hand against the railing, her long hair floating breezily in the wind. Her ribbons flitted back and forth as she dug through her bag, searching for something he had no hope of making out from his distance.

She hadn’t noticed him yet.

That wasn’t too much of a surprise to him, especially when he considered how she spent most of her days happily oblivious to her surroundings. It was a wonder she had made it through another day unharmed.

His eyes were drawn to her fingers, clinging to the same railing his own hand rested against, and his body stalled at the only natural thought in his mind.

If he kept his hand on the rail as he approached, it would eventually end up alongside hers.

Kyo could almost imagine the warmth of her fingers as they touched his, could almost see her panic as she realised what had happened, could almost feel her pull back with a hundred apologies on her lips.

He considered the idea for a moment.

It would be so easy to play it off as an accident, his hand sliding into hers in a purely distracted state, his fingers curling against hers in involuntary attempt to fight off the cold.

He blinked hard.

He took a deep breath.

He shoved both hands into the pockets of his trousers and carried on walking.

Casually jumping the last few steps, Kyo landed beside Tohru, who true to form, startled at his sudden appearance. “Hey,” he said gently, attempting to offset his brusque entrance.

“Kyo-kun,” she called back happily as she straightened up, her hands fluttering behind her back as she gave up on whatever she was searching for. “Are you ready to go home now?”

Kyo frowned, something strange and warm blooming in his chest. “You were … waiting for me?”

“Of course. Yuki already went on ahead, but I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Tohru’s eyes were bright and brown and so plain to read as she smiled up at him. Kyo’s fingers twitched in his pocket. He twisted them into a fist as something akin to regret simmered at the base of his throat.

“Thanks,” he said, doing his best to ignore it. “You didn’t have to stay y’know.”

Tohru shook her head lightly. “You’re so silly. Of course I did,” she said, her smile widening ever so slightly.

Kyo was quiet a moment, transfixed. Was there anything that smile couldn’t fix, he wondered.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, deliberately knocking against her shoulder as he passed, hands still firmly placed in his pockets. He took a few steps before slowing his pace, waiting for her to catch up to him with that same bright smile on her face.

 ii.

“Having bigger hands doesn’t mean you’re stronger,” Yuki grumbled half-heartedly, his face hidden behind a textbook.

“It does too,” Kyo said stubbornly, his hand slamming down onto the table between the two of them. The teacups clattered at the impact as the red-headed boy turned his attention to the only other person in the room. “Right, Tohru?”

Tohru sat on the edge of the table with her homework spread out before her, her pencil stuck mid-air as both boy’s attention fell to her. Her gaze bounced between the two of them, her nerves frazzling by the second at the untamed energy simmering in the air.

Yuki was the first to speak.

He let out a reserved sigh, his mop of grey hair and piercing eyes appearing in full as he lowered the book. “Miss Honda, you don’t have to answer his ridiculous question.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Kyo countered defensively. “My hands are obviously bigger than Tohru’s and I’m clearly stronger than her too. So why don’t you just hold up your hand you damned rat, so I can prove I’m stronger than you too!”

Yuki raised his brows warily, his expression somewhere between serene and disinterested.

“It doesn’t make any difference if my, or even Miss Honda’s, hands are bigger or smaller than yours. We’re both stronger than you where it counts.”

Kyo leaned into the table, flexing his arm muscles as he glared at Yuki. “Oh yeah, and where’s that you stupid rat?”

As much as Tohru would have loved to hear Yuki’s reasoning, Kyo’s response or even just attempt to cool down the argument that was brewing in the air, her mind found itself fixated on one thing and one thing only.

My hands are bigger than Tohru’s

Her brows crinkled into a small frown as she stared at Kyo’s hand spread against the dark grain of the wood table. How could he possibly know that?

From what she remembered, the two of them had pretty similarly sized hands. Sure he had grown taller since they’d first met, but she hadn’t paid any particular attention to his hands.

Perhaps she ought to have, she wondered.

Tohru wanted to test his words against the truth, and for a brief moment the thought of asking him flickered in the back of her mind.

The image of him pressing his palm flat against hers seemed so real that she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. She wondered how his orange eyes would look when they bounced along the tips of their fingers to measure the distance between them.

Curious?

Affectionate?

Tender?

Her head tipped involuntarily to the side, shaking her free of her reverie.

“Huh … what … happened?” she said, stumbling over the words as she finally focused enough to see Kyo and Yuki looking at her with matching looks of concern.

It took her a disoriented moment to realise it was because someone had knocked her gently. It took another for her to realise it was Kyo and that those same orange eyes she had been imagining were now burning right beside her.

“Are you okay Miss Honda?”

She heard Yuki, but his words didn’t really register through the tendrils of her muddled thoughts. All she knew was a warm burnt umber and the feel of fingertips pressed against her own.

Kyo leaned in towards her with a concerned frown. “You were gawking at the table for ages,” he put bluntly, diving for the ground with a growl as Yuki sent a book flying at his face.

“What he means Miss Honda, is that you got lost in your head there for a moment. You must have had some pretty interesting thoughts.”

Tohru blushed wildly, trying to forget the images she’d conjured up in her mind. But one look at Kyo as he sat up with that flame eyed gaze of his had them flickering on the fringes of her vision.

She rushed to her feet, feeling completely hot and bothered. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, attempting to look anywhere but at the two boys who she knew were watching her with worried gazes.

“I …” she started, searching for any excuse to leave. “It’s so late! I need to get started on dinner.” And with that, Tohru made a beeline for the empty kitchen.

It would be a good long while before the rosy hue on her cheeks disappeared, and a good while longer until she could remember her daydream without blushing all over again.

 iii.

Kyo stood in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand, craning into the room with an air of curiosity. He had only meant to pass through on his way to grab a drink, but the sight of Tohru doing – whatever the heck that was – gave him pause.

“What are you doing?”

Tohru glanced up at him, the look of concentration on her face melting into a welcoming smile. “Oh, this?” she said, gesturing to the small pink bottle on the table. “I still had some of mum’s nail polish and thought it would be fun to put it on.”

Kyo stepped fully into the room, eyeing up the bottle on the table with open mistrust. “Is that stuff safe?” he asked, the smell of chemicals strong in the air. His hands involuntarily tightened on his glass.

“Of course, silly. And it’s really pretty too, look,” Tohru said as she held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers playfully.

Kyo idly glanced at the pale pink that decorated her fingers. Even he had to admit that it did look pretty.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said gently, turning to leave.

“Oh, actually Kyo-kun,” she called after him, knocking her knee against the table in her hurry. Kyo glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Are you busy right now?”

He swallowed the urge to say whatever would get him out of the situation, a habit he’d been trying to work on kicking. “Not really,” he said, turning back around to face her.

“If it’s not too much bother, could you paint my other hand for me?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with a guarded hope. “I’m not that good at applying it with my left hand.”

“Oh,” Kyo said, a little stunned at her request. Painting Tohru’s nails seemed like it required a steady hand, and he wasn’t exactly known for being … delicate. Still, before he knew what he was doing Kyo was shuffling towards the table.

He placed his cup of water down, biting back a smile as Tohru expertly slid a coaster under it before it could touch the table. He picked up the bottle, twisting the lid off and pulling out the brush.

“Thank you,” Tohru said brightly, placing her right hand on the table and spreading her fingers across its wooden surface.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he warned warily, not fully trusting himself to be able to do a good job. As carefully as he could, he lifted the brush and applied the polish to her bare nails, his hands moving slow and cautious.

Weirdly enough, it really did feel like painting. Kyo wasn’t much for art - though he did like to make things with his hands - but he found that the repetitive motions were strangely soothing as he worked methodically along each nail.

As great care as he took to try and keep the polish from her skin, he took even greater care to keep himself from touching her – a thing every sane part of him screamed to do.

Or, every insane part rather.

It was hard to do with their hands in such close proximity, but Kyo managed it well enough despite his desire to do otherwise. A small while later, he found himself placing the capped bottle back down on the table with a glassy thunk.

He had rushed a little towards the end, nerves starting to get the better of him, but as Tohru lifted her hand to blow against the wet polish she seemed happy enough with the outcome.

“Thank you,” she said softly, examining the plain pink on her nails like it was some famous masterpiece or something of the like. He wanted to grab a hold of that hand, to feel her soft skin against his own calloused palm, all under the guise of examining his work.

“You’re welcome,” he said, standing up quickly and heading for the door before he could change his mind. “See ya.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tohru open her mouth as if to say something, but Kyo kept walking. He was already in the corridor before she could even have a chance to speak and he didn’t stop until he reached his own room.

He pushed thoughts of Tohru from his mind as he dropped onto his futon. It would lead to nothing after all, so he resolved to do nothing about it.

His glass of water stood forgotten on the table beside that bottle of pink polish.

 iv.

Tohru’s elbows pressed almost painfully into the counter as she leaned against it, but she barely even noticed. Her gaze was fixed on the window, or more specifically, at the bright sun that she could see rising just beyond it.

The near silent bubble of the rice cooker lulled her into a state of calm in the dusky dawn light, spreading through the kitchen like a warm mist. Her thoughts were peacefully empty as she breathed in deeply.

She spent several minutes that way, gazing out at the slowly waking world illuminated in a beautiful golden glow that would die down as the sun rose fully. She didn’t look away until the sound of soft footsteps shuffling down the stairs drew her gaze.

A ready smile sprang to her lips as she spotted a shock of orange through the doorway. “Good morning, Kyo-kun,” she beamed.

The boy padded into the kitchen, glancing blearily in her direction. “Hey, you,” he said, voice still deep from slumber. The timbre rumbled through her and Tohru found herself suddenly standing up straighter.

Kyo rubbed at his eyes, attempting to chase away the last clutches of sleep. “Uh, Tohru,” he said, glancing around him as if searching for something. “You haven’t seen my phone anywhere, have you? I thought I left it in here last night.”

Tohru squinted in thought, knowing she’d seen it somewhere. “Oh. It’s right …” she said, swivelling around and biting her lip as she reached beside the fruit bowl. “Here,” she finished, holding it up proudly in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks,” Kyo murmured. His eyes lingered on it sitting in her hand, but he made no move to take it off of her. Tohru held it out anyway, wondering what was stopping him before realising that he was watching her a little more closely than normal.

Her heart thudded in her throat as she saw that indecipherable look in his eyes, swallowing nervously as she forced herself to look away. She turned her attention back to the window, realising with a start that the dawn’s golden glow had faded without her realising.

The sky was fully clear and a beautiful violet blue, but instead of seeing the beauty in front of her eyes, all she could do was anticipate the brush of Kyo’s fingertips against her skin, wait for the gentle sparks of his touch to flit across her palm.

But the feeling never came.

She felt the weight disappear from her hand, but when she turned to Kyo she found that he was no longer beside her. He was across the kitchen, standing beside an open fridge. He held a carton of milk in one hand and his phone in the other as he frowned at the boxes of leftovers.

Tohru startled as the rice cooker dinged loudly behind her. “I’m making rice and salmon for breakfast,” she announced hurriedly as Kyo glanced at her over his shoulder. As if the sound wouldn’t have already alerted him. “It’s almost ready,” she added quietly, trying her best to keep her voice casual.

“Okay,” he said, placing the box of leftover fish on the counter for her before turning to leave, the carton of milk still clutched in his hands. “I’ll go wake the others up.”

Tohru sighed at his retreating form as he left the kitchen, her heart heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t regret, at least not entirely, although she was sure it definitely had something to do with the way she felt.

She tried to ignore it, but even as she distractedly plated the food, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what had made Kyo be so careful around her. So careful that he refused to touch her in the slightest.

It wasn’t the curse; she knew that much at least.

But then, what was it about her that repulsed him so much? She bit the inside of her cheek as she took the plates to the table, the thought haunting her for the rest of the day.

 v.

Kyo entered Tohru’s room cautiously.

He had permission to be there, obviously – he wouldn’t have dared walk in otherwise – but it still felt weird to be there when she wasn’t. He glanced around to take in the pristine room, tidy and organised just as he knew it would be.

He spotted her zodiac figurines sitting on a shelf across her bed, his lips quirking at the final cat she’d crafted herself to make sure he didn’t feel left out. He walked over to it, marking the small imperfections in her sculpting and appreciating it even more for it.

Turning back around, he reminded himself that he was here for an actual reason. Tohru, Yuki, Momiji and himself had been halfway to the mall when she’d realised she’d forgotten her purse at home.

She’d been working most of the week, and since Hana and Uotani were already waiting for her, he’d offered to come back instead of making her waste more of her time. It had been easy to play it off as needing some time away from Momiji and his antics, but Yuki had given Kyo a look he hadn’t liked in the slightest.

His grey eyes were so light and piercing that they almost seemed to pull some unknown truth to the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t been sure what the boy had been searching for, but it definitely made him uncomfortable.

Kyo was glad to be away from him.

Now, where had Tohru said her purse was again? The red headed boy frowned as he tried to remember something that wasn’t the quiet joy on her face when he said he’d go back for her.

In all honesty, his brain had been a little preoccupied with shutting down his own unwanted thoughts of her that he’d barely had any energy left to listen to the rest of her request. He remembered her saying something about the bed, so decided to start there.

He scanned the perfectly smoothed duvet for any signs of her brown purse, but nothing. He did notice a slight dip on the far pillow though and followed it. He found the object of his search on the floor beside it, clearly having slipped off at some point, and lifted it off the ground.

He ran his fingers over the worn leather, wondering how many times Tohru had done the exact same thing. It was a little weird he knew that but, holding something so precious to her, he could almost pretend he was holding her.

He was much too spinelessness to do that of course, the past few weeks of avoiding her as much as he could had been enough to show him that. He’d spent many nights awake during the small hours of the night, staring at the ceiling and wondering if she had noticed his reluctance around her.

She must have he’d deduced eventually – he wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety after all.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to touch her and hold her hand. In fact, he wanted it so much that the thought scared him more than just a little bit. He knew where his life was headed, a captive future laid out for him since birth, and that alone should have stopped his thoughts of her dead in their tracks.

But they only rebelled harder, persistent in their desire to know her.

He released a soft exhalation filled with unbridled wanting as he held her purse a little tighter. This at least he could hold without worry or false expectations. It wasn’t her, but it was the closest he felt he could get.

At least for now.

He kept a gentle grip on the purse the whole way down the steps that led away from Shigure’s house until he reached the mall where the others were waiting for him. He tossed it gently in Tohru’s direction, and though she stumbled and flailed, she managed to catch it with words of gratitude falling from her lips.

Kyo waved them away as he turned to the others, regretting his decision instantly as he caught sight of Yuki, that same look in his gaze that he had thought he’d evaded earlier. “Stop it,” the other boy said plainly. “Your cowardice will hurt her more than anything else ever could.”

The others had already begun to move on, leaving the two of them alone.

“What are you talking about?” Kyo grumbled, faking irritation to hide the fact that he understood Yuki perfectly. And that he was right.

“You’re going to have to decide what you want at some point. Make the right choice for once,” Yuki said cryptically, brushing past Kyo without waiting for a response.

Anger simmered within Kyo, but not for Yuki or even the truths he spoke. No, his anger was wholly for himself and himself alone. He knew he was hurting Tohru, he’d seen as much in her eyes every time he took the pains to avoid her outstretched hands, and yet he kept doing it anyway.

How much longer would he keep playing at this and pretending that he didn’t want to touch her every time she was near? Kyo turned to follow after the others, reluctant to face that question, let alone all the complications that would follow.

He still felt the ghostly feel of her purse on his palm, reminding him that he’d have to decide soon enough. But he already knew what his answer would be.

 vi.

It was a rare movie night when Tohru found herself sat on the floor sandwiched between Yuki and Kyo. Momiji lay sprawled out on the floor in front of them, his wide eyes glued to the television screen.

They’d ended up choosing one of the several movies the younger Sohma had brought along with him, the only stipulation being that it wasn’t scary. Nobody wanted a repeat of the haunted house incident, and as it stood, Tohru wasn’t sure her head would ever fully recover from that day.

Despite her initial excitement at spending the evening relaxing with her friends, Tohru found that she had no idea what was happening in the movie. From the moment Yuki had pressed play, or perhaps even before, her mind had been occupied by another thing entirely – namely, Kyo.

He sat right beside her, shoulder almost brushing against hers with one leg pulled up so he could lean back a little. He was glaring at the screen in annoyance, from being forced to watch the movie or because he was confused by it, Tohru couldn’t be sure.

What she was sure of was the fact that his hand was resting on the ground, just inches away from her own. If she moved hers just so she could tangle their fingers.

Even though she knew he probably wouldn’t want her to, Tohru couldn’t help but want to feel that he was there. If he didn’t react, then at least she could just pretend that she was trying to get comfortable and hadn’t noticed – although she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to convince anyone.

With a soft breath and a burst of courage she wasn’t aware she had she slid her hand a little closer to his.

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she felt more than saw his eyes drift towards her as he noticed the slight movement. She dared a quick side glance only to find that he was frowning at the ground where her hand rested.

She curled her fingers inwards instinctively, wondering if she should pull back when Kyo’s own movement caught her attention.

His hand lifted into the air and covered his mouth in a disinterested yawn and Tohru felt cold disappointment wash over her as she realised her attempts had been futile. The emotion must have unintentionally crossed her face because Kyo’s lips twitched in amusement.

It took her a moment to realise that she was being weird and staring at him and she quickly dragged her gaze down to her hand instead, ready to pull it onto her lap and forget the last few minutes.

But before she could, Kyo’s hand came down on top of hers, warm and firm. She bit back the nervous gasp that threated to spill from her lips as his fingers dragged across her knuckles and came to rest on the ground beside hers.

Her murmured a soft apology.

Tohru only had to take a single look at him to know that the yawn was a ruse. The glint in his eye proved his actions were deliberate. She let a small smile work its way onto her lips as she turned back to the movie that filtered around her in waves of incoherent sounds and flashes.

He was closer to her now, so close that even if she wasn’t looking, she could stretch out her curled fingers and be able to feel his touch again. The fact that he had reached for her first and closed the distance between them once already made her bold and she did just that.

Slowly, so slowly that she wondered if she was actually even moving, Tohru reached out for Kyo until the tips of her fingers brushed against his. Her skin sparked to life at every point she met his skin and she couldn’t help but wonder that if the barest touch did this to her, what would it be like if he touched her fully.

Her heart flickered with warmth as Kyo tapped her fingers with his own. It became harder and harder to pretend that she was trying to watch the movie and she hoped that neither Yuki nor Momiji noticed. She really should have been more concerned that either of the two would notice her fingers tangled with Kyo’s but Tohru couldn’t bring herself to care.

Every living part of her was focused solely on Kyo and the way his fingers danced with her own, creating soothing words in a silent language that she couldn’t yet translate beyond a peaceful stillness.

If he would let her, someday she would do everything in her power to learn it, and him along with it. But for now, she was content with their furtive dance and their secretive smiles so long as it meant he was near.

- x - 

started writing this back in august. several mental breakdowns later, bon appetite. title from ‘this side of paradise’ by coyote theory

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part seven

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

     Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

  Operation Whistle-blower

As the first tendrils of sunlight curled through her bedroom’s blind shades, Sarah rolled over in her bed, still unable to fall asleep. Her mind was crowded with thoughts surrounding her evening encounter. What was she going to do? The lines always grew muddy in these situations, and she still didn’t know what to think of Black Noir. If anything, their interaction only added to her confusion.

She was so tired. But nevertheless, she pulled herself into a sitting position and waited for the pounding at her temples to subside. Once it finally did, she stretched and rose from the warm bed.

And so, her morning began. Looking in the mirror, she wondered what had changed. She’d been training for these moments, preparing to execute her plan. When had she gotten so tired? When had she lost her edge? Wherever it went, she needed to find it immediately.

Sarah’s morning routine was precise, meticulous even. First, she made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up for the day. This was followed by a morning workout, consisting of either jump-rope hiit or strength exercises. She stretched and drank her lemon water. At that point, she always took a shower and decided her look for the day. Outfit, hairstyle, and makeup. Once she was prim and proper, she would head into the kitchen and make herself pancakes, which she considered to be the best start to any morning.

Once she’d cleaned up, she’d gather her things and head out.

On the other hand, Black Noir needed no more than three hours of sleep and often found himself awake throughout the night. He’d spend his time reading, prowling the city, or watching movies. He wasn’t quite sure how it’d started, but one movie every now and then turned into one or two movies a night.

When the sun begins to rise, he starts his routine of suiting up and eating breakfast. He would then enter the combat training room Vought had built for him and that only him and the company knew about. He clocked many hours in that room, constantly training and sharpening his skills. He’d freshen up before heading out for meetings or events.

Sometimes even missions. Now those were his favorites and he often found himself craving one just to be able to let go, to use his abilities. He was a master martial artist and interrogator. He was a spy supplied with strength, durability, and knife proficiency. When they assigned a target, it always ended up classified as ‘terminated’. He never missed, he never failed.

But that morning was like any other, and he had yet another string of meetings. And so, with great composure he completed his morning routine, slipped his mask on, and left his living quarters.

He found that the only thing he might look forward to as much as a mission, was meeting the woman who had captivated his attention that fateful night at the gala. She was different from what he’d originally imagined, still radiant but imperfect. Up close, watching her while she spoke, he had noted a sadness, a maturity in her eyes he wasn’t expecting. For the first time, he was personally invested in another human being, watching over her like a guardian. She was hiding something, and he’d get to the bottom of it soon enough.

..

The day went by in no rush, the hours slowly dragging along. The burning in her eyes and the heaviness of her limbs were nothing when compared to the pounding in her head.

Massaging her temples, Sarah tried to focus on the task at hand.

Someone hovered over her desk, “Long day?”

Sarah hummed before granting her friend some attention. She didn’t like the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Or should I say long night?”

“Hell no, don’t start up with that,” Sarah immediately rejected the image she had conjured up at Martha’s words.

Martha merely huffed in disappointment but respected her wish to keep quiet about it at the moment. You could never really know who is watching or listening.

“All right, all right,” the blonde swept at her bangs. “Are you sure you’re up for tonight?”

Sarah immediately nodded, “Of course, we need to go over a few things.”

Martha watched her closely, “You hide it well, but you really need to slow down.”

She knew her friend meant well and was probably worried over her fatigued state, but there was no time for rest. She could sleep, but it never truly replenished her. It only kept her going.

And who could blame her for it? People who slept well weren’t constantly looking over their shoulder, afraid of being identified and murdered in cold blood. They weren’t leading a plan to take down one of the biggest, most successful pharmaceutical companies in the world. They weren’t being watched by an enhanced, murderous ninja who could tear their head off. Most of all, they didn’t fear burning up and clearing a block in their sleep.

As a little girl, she’d always sleep curled up at the center of the bed, far from the edges. Under no circumstances would she allow a limb to fall over the side. Now, she always slept with an arm hanging out, her fingers inches away from the backpack holding all the necessities to disappear at a moment’s notice. New passport, keys to a safe house, change of clothes, snack bars, lighter, knife, flashlight…

Sarah stirred herself from her thoughts, “It’s fine, I’m just not sleeping that well.”

The other woman pursed her lips.

..

What Martha had been referring to was their weekly night out every Friday. They would either go for dinner at a restaurant or go clubbing if they had to discuss anything in secrecy. That night, they were heading to one of their favorite clubs for dancing and plotting. A club is the perfect place to talk about sensitive information if you find the right spot inside. The loud music masks your words, and most of the people are drinking, buzzed, or completely wasted. And seeing them out together raised no suspicion because it simply looked like friends going out and having fun. Additionally, they got to dance which was always a plus in the two women’s eyes.

Martha often complained that at twenty-seven they were rapidly approaching the deadline for going to clubs, dancing events and such. She was often very dramatic about it, claiming they had to enjoy it before they got labelled as cougars. Sarah always brushed it off with a laugh, not even attempting to reason with her friend’s logic.

And while she enjoyed going to clubs or bars, that night she truly was regretting it. She slipped into a small, refined black dress and hopped into her heels. She’d already done her eye makeup and moved in front of the mirror to apply a rich, dark red lipstick. Her hair was left down, cascading over her shoulders in tight kinks and curls, a cloud of dark brown locks. She pulled her bangs to the side and took in her appearance in the mirror.

Alluring and mysterious, perfect.

Her phone vibrated from an incoming call. “Hey, I’m two minutes away, start locking doors or whatever it is that always makes you late.”

Sarah laughed and started to, indeed, shut her windows and lock the backdoor. She finally made it to the porch where she stood waiting for her friend’s Honda.

Little did she know, a certain someone was hidden on her roof, listening to her move around on the porch beneath him. Black Noir could smell the enticing perfume she’d applied and could hear the characteristic click of heels on wood. He breathed in deeply and restrained himself from jumping down.

She was lightly humming to herself, and he found the tune oddly familiar, but he couldn’t recall when he’d last heard it.

A light grey car rolled around the corner and came to a stop in front of the house.

When Sarah stepped down from the porch and onto the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but hold his breathe. Frozen in his spot, he grew hot at the elegant form-hugging dress she wore, her hips swaying from side to side. Ringlets of dark hair reached down the curve of her back. Where was she going looking like that?

As the car sped away, Black Noir took a few moments to collect himself. She’d completely clouded his mind, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. One of the things that made him so efficient was his ability to focus, always. In any situation, he selected and categorized his surroundings with an ease unlike any other man or woman. He was controlled. No distractions, ever. His outlet was killing, but even then, it was methodical.

But now he felt an underlying tension grow, right under the skin where he couldn’t reach. She was stunning, and he was sure others would think so as well. He’d gouge their eyes out. If he caught anyone catcalling, he’d rip out their tongues. Yes, that’s appropriate.

He shook his head, almost in an attempt to concentrate. Mostly, he was angry with her. Who was she meeting? He sneered at the thought of another man entering the picture.

And so, fueled by possessiveness and an unfathomable jealousy, he followed from the rooftops with an ever-watchful eye.

..

Having already been there multiple times, Sarah and Martha were quick to settle into their usual spot. Taking in the masses of moving bodies around her, Sarah glanced at the people within hearing range. A good rule a thumb was that if she could he hear them speak, so could they hear her.

She moved closer to her friend as Martha started, “I think this is a good time to proceed with everything. I mean, we’re only missing the codes to the lab.”

Sarah snorted, “Yeah, as well as infiltrating the lab, taking the samples and data—like the whole rest of the plan.” She mused, “Oh and don’t forget, we have to live through it and get everything to Max.”

Martha rolled her eyes, “Okay, you’re right but still…,” she took a sip of her drink, “it’s time. There’s a lot of confusion and change at Vought, it could easily be someone else.”

Sarah thought about it. “The plan is pretty solid. It has its risks, but I don’t think there’s any potential plan that doesn’t have any.”

Martha approved, “Exactly. Plus, it fits in with the timeline so we’re good.”

“Yeah….” Sarah trailed off before finally deciding, “I’ll do it next week. I get the algorithm and you crack it.”

Martha high-fived her and downed her drink. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

“To Operation Whistle-blower.”

Sarah smiled, “To Operation Whistle-blower”

After such extensive planning, it felt good to finally act, to make Vought pay. She would just need to hold it together for a little longer, focus and get the job done.

Looking over at the blonde she searched her eyes for doubt or remorse. After all, this wasn’t her battle and she’d gotten wrapped into it almost accidentally. They had met at Mallory’s house as teenagers and had been inseparable ever since. And they made a good team, always looking out for each other in the dangerous world of lies, conspiracies and death they grew up in.

Martha snapped her fingers, “You still with us?”

Laughing at her friend’s impatience, Sarah nodded and focused on the drink in front of her.

“Have you told Mallory how we’re proceeding?”

Growing serious, the brunette shook her head, “I only call at our scheduled time on Sunday. I’ll hint at it then.”

Martha leaned back in her seat, “Yeah, it would be great if she could muddy the waters even more, feed false information here and there.”

“You know she’ll help where she can, but I don’t want her involved,” Sarah repeated for the hundredth time, “She already doesn’t want me doing this, and she’s suffered enough.”

Watching her friend retreat into her thoughts, Martha made the snap decision to get up and literally force her to be present.

“Let’s dance.”

Sarah sputtered, “Well okay.” She stared wide-eyed at her friend, “That was sudden.”

“Well you know all that crap about,” she paused for emphasis, “Ces la vie”

The young brunette stood up and laughed at her friend’s antics as she was swept into the crowd.

Losing themselves to the music, they joined the mass of moving bodies, shaking hips and hands raised. The pounding music had since reached into their chest, their bodies almost vibrating to the fast tempo of the music. It was exhilarating, until Sarah’s head felt like it split open.

Martha touched her neck.

“Oh my god, Sarah what happened,” she yelled over the music.

She dragged her over to a less crowded corner and checked her over for any sign of injury. The bleeding woman could feel her agitation grow and spread throughout her body. Had someone nicked her? She looked back into the crowd, wondering who was hiding in there, waiting to finish her off. The dim lights over the sea of moving bodies concealed everything, both action and sound.

Martha found the source of her bleeding, “Oh god Sarah, it’s your ear, it’s bleeding.” Looking up with knowing eyes she placed her hands on the brunette’s shoulders, steadying her. “Look at me, we’re fine. You need to calm down.”

Sarah’s eyes were traced by thin glowing veins, and her breaths were increasingly shallow. She could feel her heartbeat at the tips of her fingers, her whole body on edge.

When Sarah looked from side to side, Martha lightly shook her to catch her attention. “Hey,” she warned.

Slowly, the net of glowing light blue retreated.

“Are we cool?”

Sarah swallowed, “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

Martha tugged on her hand and led her to the exit. They both knew she needed to go home and fully slow down—come down from her high. The moment of danger had triggered a response that she thought had long went dormant.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you like that.”

Sarah merely wrapped her arms around her waist. After the moment of scalding hot, she was now left cold, almost shivering.

“Has it happened since last time.”

Sarah stared ahead. “Not really.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?

The brunette kicked at a small rock on the sidewalk. “When I sleep and I remember things, I feel it. But I wake up each time.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re not sleeping.” Martha looked over at her pensive friend, “I’m staying over tonight. It can be a sleepover like the old days.”

Sarah smiled at the thought of their wild adventures. Their sleepovers were not what people commonly thought of. There was no braiding, nail polish or barbies. It was training, sparring, and eating abnormal amounts of ice-cream.

“You’re going to rest, and I’m going to make you some tea,” Martha decided.

“So a different kind of sleepover,” Sarah pointed out.

Martha looked over, worry in her eyes. “Yeah, a different kind of sleepover.”

When she stayed silent, the blonde made a light-hearted comment, “You know we need to branch out, get out of our comfort zones so that we can grow as human beings”

At Sarah’s laugh she proceeded, “Maybe we should try braiding your hair, too.”

The brunette raked a hand through the ends of her curly hair, “Please, you don’t have what it takes.”

Laughing, Martha agreed. From behind them, someone called out.

“Hey, girls, wait up.” A stocky man with hard eyes but a blinding smile came to stand way too close for comfort, and they both took a step back.

“Can I get your numbers?”

“Excuse me?”

“Can I get one of your numbers” he asked again, but slower.

They were both getting bad vibes. Sarah sized him up, still rattled from what happened in the club.

“Yeah, we understand English, we just don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here.”

Martha interjected with a disbelieving tone, “Are you trying to get both of our numbers?”

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, probably thinking he was cute.

“Well, I’ll take what I can get. One or both.”

Martha smiled widely, “Yeah, no, that was the worst attempt to a get a girl’s number in the history of pick-up lines.”

Sarah agreed, “We’re leaving.”

She promptly spun around but was stopped when he grabbed her wrist and shook her. She looked back at him and down at his hold, feeling the energy bubbling right under the surface.

“Come on, I know you want it, no way you weren’t dancing for attention in there.”

And for an instant she got a glimpse into his mind, pictures clouding her thoughts. Her own mind was now spun up, running a thousand miles per hour as her body grew increasingly hot. Martha attempted to catch her attention.

“Come on, let’s go, we’re leaving now.”

But Sarah stood stock still, staring at the man as he grew more and more uncomfortable. Not as bold as before, he tried to back out. When she felt a looser tension on her wrist, she twisted and grabbed onto his, pulling him close.

Her temperature surpassed what would commonly be considered a fever, and she felt the characteristic burning warmth pervading her chest, like ribbons of fire and smoke swirling though her ribcage.

The man started to feel heat on his wrist, and, confused, he tugged. Sarah never moved. And Martha was terrified, not knowing how to knock her friend out of her trance-like state of focus on the disrespectful man in front of them. She had already been on edge, and him grabbing her like that must have sent her barreling over a metaphorical cliff.

Growing scared, he tugged even harder, to no avail. She saw Jason in his features. And suddenly, her skin was so hot, he was burning. She seared the shape of her fingers onto his wrist and ignored the smell of burning skin in the air.

“Oh god, Sarah that’s enough.”

She pressed harder, and he kneeled to the floor, trying to twist out of her grasp.

“Sarah, you’ll blow our cover,” she tried, and finally pleaded, “Marianna.”

That got to her, somewhere in her mind. It shook her and distracted her from the surge of energy building up inside.

Leaning down, she whispered. “You need to learn to respect women. We’re not weak playthings, you hear?”

He nodded insistently, and she finally let him fall back onto the sidewalk, clutching onto his wrist.

Martha watched her, “Now, are we cool?”

Sarah couldn’t quite meet her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Martha was slightly fuming, but it was worry that truly consumed her.

“You better do some jumping jacks or flap your arms to cool down, because you will not burn my leather seats.”

..

Once they left, the silence in the car was suffocating.

Sarah finally pierced it, “I saw what he was thinking, Martha. Not like I could in the past—just a glimpse.”

She peered out of the window into the night.

“And it was horrible.”

..

Up on the rooftops, Black Noir had watched the interaction with growing frustration.

Ready to make his way down to kill the man, he stopped in his tracks. Was this the secret she’d been hiding? She too was enhanced.

She wasn’t on any of Vought’s lists or indexes, which confirmed the fact that she was using a fake identity. So, if she was hiding, presumably from the company that had made her into what she is, why was she working there? So many questions, and no answers.

And why had the other woman called her Marianna? Was that her true name?

His patience was growing thin, but he decided he wouldn’t advance on her until he had a better understanding of where she stood. He found himself proud of how she’d handled the man. Disappointed that she hadn’t killed him, but proud, nonetheless. If she had simply given over her number, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. Violent thoughts danced behind his eyes but he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry them out, not on her.

He leapt down from where he was perched and followed the man without a sound.

And in the dark of night, one can only imagine what happened when he finally reached him.

-Giulia

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724​  @proximio-5​ @damiminator

[retvenkos]

in the back seat | a.c.

National Treasure - Abigail Chase x Reader, fluff requested by @the-radio-star​

tw: none

word count: 1.5k

prompt: “keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice.”

A/N: don’t mind me, i’m just manifesting national treasure 3. one of these days, my prayers will be answered.

Summary: When the group is back on the road again, chasing after whatever is on page 47, (Y/n) is more restless than usual. Luckily, Abigail is there to make car rides bearable.

If there was one thing you had learned, being an old friend of Ben Gates, it was that long car rides were terrible for your back.

You couldn't remember exactly when Ben turned into the daring-escape-in-an-uncomfortable-vehicle type — you supposed it probably had something to do with him basing his entire life goal on an Indiana Jones level family legend — but for as long as you knew him, that was the gig. Being friends with Ben Gates meant acquiring odd, often illegal talents while going on treasure hunts, solving age-old mysteries from the back of old Cadillac Devilles and beat up Chevy Vans. Needless to say, when your back gives out, you'll stick Ben with the bill. It can be a little parting gift, one final way that Ben can support your eccentric skillset and peculiar taste in vocation.

"You know, you'd think we'd get a decent car for missions like these," you complained from the back of yet another incredibly cramped car - an old Honda Civic that looked like it belonged in the year 2000. You, Ben, Riley, and Abigail were going cross country again, following some lead on whatever the hell was on page 47 of the Book of Secrets (Riley still wouldn't tell you, damn him), and as always, you had to mention their choice of ride.

"If we got something halfway decent, the whole world would know we're doing something, again," Ben deadpanned, looking at you from the rearview mirror. You sunk lower into the unforgiving seats to avoid his gaze.

"Easy for you say - you always get to drive. If you were stuck back here, you'd understand."

"Well, Ben is the one calling the shots," Riley said through a grin, reveling in the joy of stealing the passenger's seat. Usually, he was relegated to the backseat alongside you, but this time he had been intent on calling shotgun, claiming that this treasure hunt was his. He had been babbling about the Book of Secrets all day long, and you were certain that his voice was the only reason that Ben was still awake, this late at night. Without his grating tones, all of you would be fast asleep.

Riley turned to you, wriggling in his seatbelt so he could see you out of the corner of his bespeckled eye. "Besides, (Y/n), Ben deserves the legroom."

You kicked the back of Riley's seat, earning an indignant "hey!"

"Oh, sorry, Riley, there's just not much legroom back here. Do you think I deserve some?"

Riley muttered under his breath and turned around. You opened your mouth to build on the momentum you'd already gained, but Abigail cut you off.

"You'll get some soon enough," she scoffed, immediately decreasing the tension in your confined space. You turned to look at her and saw that she was smiling, legs tucked to her side and eyes looking out the window, watching the streaks of color pass - white lights and neons bleeding into each other, stark against the dark of night. The colors played against her expression, almost making her eyes dance. "We'll have to stop at some point, and then we can push Riley and Ben into the back."

"But this is my mission!"

"I'm pretty sure the president told me to look at the page."

"Not everything is about you, Ben."

You rolled your eyes at your idiotic friends in the front seats, and Abigail caught your eye. The two of you laughed softly, just barely audible over their arguing.

"How are you at all comfortable back here?" You shifted in your seat, pushing your back to the car door and pulling your knees to your chest, ignoring Riley's condemnation of your refusal to wear a seatbelt. You scoffed and looked at Abigail with a wonder that almost bordered on exasperation. For having mocked your treasure hunting lifestyle when the two of you first met, she sure was comfortable in it. Even on day one, Abigail had managed to fall in step with the rest of you, as though she had belonged at your side all along.

Even in the most irritating of situations, Abigail looked at home when she was traversing the world with the rest of you, and she fell into her role very well. It was Abigail who talked Ben down from his more insane ideas. It was Abigail who stopped you from throttling Riley when he blasted Britney Spears' "Toxic" when you were in the middle of a car chase. It was Abigail who always knew what to say to boost Riley's confidence. And it was always Abigail who knew some clever bit of knowledge that would save you in your hunt for treasure. 

She was like the glue that held your group together. Without her, you would have killed Riley long ago, and Ben would be creating international scandals of epic proportions - his offenses so terrible that not even his friend, the President of the United States, could save him. Even with Abigail, all of you should have been in prison for life, a couple times over. You couldn't imagine what the fallout would have been without her.

It was staggering, really, how you managed to get so lucky as to find her.

"I'm not at all comfortable," Abigail replied, and there it was - that conspiratorial sort of smile that never failed to take your breath away, filling you with a warmth that made all of the insanity worthwhile. It was rare to see such an expression in a moment like this - Abigail usually reserved smiles like that for victories, those little wins that the four of you got when solving riddles and outsmarting your enemies. It was nice to see it in the back of a shoddy, four-door compact car that you were certain would be the death of you.

"Then are you regretting your decision to stick with us?"

"Not for a minute."

You scoffed, tucking your head into your chest. Abigail tapped her pen against your legs, still jotting down notes by the half-light that filtered through the window. You allowed yourself a smile that she couldn't see, and Abigail made some remark that your current position had to be even more uncomfortable than you last.

 You hummed, feeling exhaustion settle into your bones - just not enough for you to drift off to sleep. "Why did you decide to stick around, anyway? It's not like Ben makes it any fun."

You heard a scoff from the front seat at your comment, but you were listening for Abigail, and her voice was the only one you cared about hearing.

"Is it not enough for me to say that I want to make sure you don't steal the Declaration of Independence again?"

"Not nearly."

"Then I'm a good samaritan, making sure you don't do irrevocable damage to important historical artifacts and holy lands," Abigail said, and you could hear the smile in her voice, reflected in the care with which she spoke each word. You smiled and closed your eyes. As long as Abigail was here to keep you company, maybe long car rides weren't so bad.

"And?" you mumbled, prodding for her to continue to speak - if only so you could hear the sounds of her voice, gentle but strong, intelligent but soft.

You heard her chuckle and imagined the way her lips curved. "And I stick around because I like all of you, despite everything, and I want to make sure you find the treasure with minimal casualties. Besides, you need me. Can you imagine trying to solve riddles without me? You'd be lost."

"Actually, we were faring quite well on our own before you complicated things with the Declaration," Ben interjected, his self-important voice souring your mood. 

"Oh, and you think you would have been able to pull the rest of it off without me?"

"Yes, actually. You underestimate us."

"Oh, shut up, Ben." You rolled your eyes, and Riley let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "We all know about your eight Ph.D.'s in history. I want to listen to Abigail." You shuffled in your seat one last time, finding the most comfortable position you could find. "Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice."

It was dark in the back seat, but you saw the surprise on Abigail's face, and maybe you were already dreaming, but you swore that her cheeks flooded with a blush. Her stunned expression soon disappeared, though, and gave way to a smile.

"Alright, I can think of a story or two to tell."

"Perfect."

"Gross," Riley spoke up from the front seat, the teasing in his voice laid on thick, "get a room, you two."

You kicked the back of his seat, and Riley yelped. The car erupted with comfortable chuckles. 

-- taglist: @fangirlings-things​ // message me if you want to be added!

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU :)

Chapter 11 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here. 

Happiness Feels a Lot Like Sorrow

Present

Dean was doing his best to uphold his end of the scotch-induced bargain of Monday night. At the very least, he told himself, it would make the next week more bearable, with Cas lingering in his apartment at all hours.

He’d still been making himself busy. He spent twelve hours at the shop on both Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to catch up on the work he’d missed while he’d been out. Bobby had saddled him with the worst of the lot; Honda Odysseys and GMC Yukons that needed tire rotations or oil changes before enormous families made their Christmas treks. He’d started on Cas’s car, but hadn’t gotten much further than getting the old timing belt off.

By the end of his shift on Wednesday, he was exhausted. It felt good, though, being back in the shop, music accompanying him (at a decidedly lower volume than normal), his hands constantly occupied, mind numb from the easy work.

As he drove home from work, a sign in a shopping center caught his eye. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling into the parking lot of a local bookstore. He turned off the Impala’s engine and walked into the store, not entirely sure what he was looking for.

It was by impulse, really, that he picked up a copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a special edition, with extra content bound up at the end. He remembered Cas saying something about that book once. It seemed like a reasonable gift.

Dean almost put the book back on the shelf three separate times before forcing himself to the checkout counter. He paid for the book in a hurry, tossing it into the back seat when he reached the car. Stupid, he thought to himself. He wasn’t even one-hundred-percent sure that Cas still liked that book. He supposed, if he chickened out, he could just give it to Sam, instead.

When Dean arrived at the apartment, Sam announced that he was picking up Taco Bell for dinner. Dean and Cas replied “crunchwrap” at the same time when Sam asked them what they wanted. He raised his eyebrows and the synchronicity, but didn’t say anything, just made a note in his phone. Cas went bright red. Dean stared resolutely at the ground.

Cas was sitting in the armchair with a book as Dean sunk into the couch, exhausted from two long days in a row. The history channel on. Dean wrinkled his nose and punched in the numbers for the Food Network.

“You watch the history channel? By choice?” Dean asked, feigning disgust.

Cas smirked as he closed his book. “I wasn’t really watching it,” he said, “But on occasion, I do like to listen to the conspiracy theorists on Ancient Aliens.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s what you and Sam do all day? Nerd out over crazy historians?”

“Mostly,” Cas said sarcastically. Dean snorted.

“You sure you don’t want Sam or I to drive you home for Christmas?” Dean said. He’d made the offer the day before, but Cas had refused.

Cas sighed. “I’m sure. I appreciate the gesture, but Christmas with my family is the last disaster I want to saddle with myself after…” He waved his hand generally.

Dean nodded. “You still talk to any of ‘em? Your family.”

“Occasionally,” Cas said. “My father called yesterday to ask your same question. I suspect he suddenly feels quite guilty about his treatment of me, considering accountants make quite a bit more than small-town preachers.”

“He’s worried about his retirement fund?”

“Most likely. I do still talk to Anna, though, on a regular basis.”

Dean felt a memory pull at his brain. “She’s the, uh, the therapist, right?”

Cas smiled to himself. “Indeed.”

“I’m assuming you’re spending Christmas at Bobby’s?” Cas asked after a beat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “The usual thing. It’s always a good time.”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips. “I’m glad.”

Dean drummed his fingers against the side of the couch. “You know,” he started, and he was already regretting it, “Sam wants you to come. To Bobby’s. For Christmas.” He cringed. The words sounded lame, like he’d made the whole thing up.

“He does?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, but I told him it’d probably be weird, you know,” Dean said with a shrug. “Big crowds aren’t your thing, and all.”

Cas eyed him. “Why didn’t he ask me himself?” He wondered. “We spend a lot of time together.”

Dean stared at the TV. “I dunno, that’s on him.”

Dean could still feel Cas’s eyes on him. “Is this your way of inviting me to spend Christmas with you?” He asked.

Dean nearly fell off the couch. “What? No,” he rushed out. “I mean, it’s not… Not with me. With everyone. I dunno, if you’re gonna be here anyway…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, Christmas alone is kinda shitty. Especially in this shithole,” he added as he gestured at his apartment. “You can come if you want,” he said finally. “Everyone would probably be happy to see you.”

Cas was staring at him, staring through him, like he always did. Dean turned his attention back to the cooking show playing on the television.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“Nothing,” Cas said, tilting his head. “Déjà vu.”

Dean’s chest tightened at that. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “What d’ya say?”

“Okay,” Cas said eventually. “I’ll come, unless that would make you uncomfortable.”

Dean’s head snapped up. After everything, he hadn’t really expected Cas to say yes. “Uh, no, man, like I said on Monday. New start.”

“Right,” Cas said slowly. “And you don’t think we should talk about why we need a ‘new start’, as you say?”

Dean glowered at the TV. “Nope,” he said. Did he always have to make everything difficult? It had been three years, and Dean truly wanted nothing more than to forget about all of it. He didn’t want closure, he didn’t need closure. Neither of them did, seeing as Cas would go back to his glamorous life in less than a week, anyway.

He could feel Cas’s eyes on the back of his head, but he ignored them. “If that’s what you want,” Cas said, his voice resigned.

Dean sat up, then, finally facing Cas. “Don’t you?” He asked, unsure if that was a question he was ready to hear answered.

“I suppose, in a way,” Cas said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

It was Cas, now, who looked away. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “Nothing important, anyway.”

Dean wanted to pry, but knew he would be a hypocrite if he did. He got up and moved to the kitchen for a glass of water. He brought a second one to the living room for Cas, who uttered his thanks.

“You ever finish that thing you were working on in college?” Dean asked.

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were on a clean slate. ‘Forgetting about everything.’”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, that doesn’t count.”

Cas took a sip of his water. “If you’re referring to the pages that are sitting in your bedroom at the moment —” Dean winced “— then no.”

Dean shot him a confused look. “Why not?”

“I… Lost the inspiration,” Cas said carefully.

“Oh.”

Cas regarded him thoughtfully. “You ask me a lot of questions,” he said. “Am I allowed to do the same?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Dean grumbled.

Cas gave him a sideways grin. “I mean, will you become willfully taciturn if I ask you questions about yourself?”

Dean was ruffled at being called out so bluntly. “No promises,” he muttered.

“What has your life looked like the past three years?”

Dean wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Not real interesting,” he said. “Working for Bobby during the days, bartending at nights. Saving up money for Sam’s college. Living here.” He shrugged. “Pretty normal, I guess.”

“Do you still bartend?” Cas asked.

“Nah, I quit that when Sam got his scholarship,” Dean replied. “I make enough at the shop to cover what that money won’t.”

Cas smiled. “That’s quite impressive.”

“I’m just a mechanic.”

“I meant paying for Sam’s college.”

Dean felt heat crawl up his neck. “Not a big deal,” he said.

“I would have thought you were on your way to settling down,” Cas said slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “But that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“No,” Dean said, and this conversation was getting dangerously close to acknowledgement of their history. Dean didn’t dare look at Cas. The fact that he thought, after everything, that Dean would be anywhere close to “in a relationship” was downright comical.

Dean, too, chose his words carefully. “I could say the same about you,” he said. “Unless there’s some guy waiting for you in KC,” he added, realizing he couldn’t possibly know otherwise. “Which, if there is, he’s kind of a dick for not —”

“There’s not,” Cas interrupted.

And that was surprising.

Dean hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he had fully expected Cas to be halfway down the road to marriage by now. The fact that he wasn’t erupted feelings that Dean wasn’t entirely ready to face.

“How’s the eye?” He asked, changing the subject.

Cas put three fingers up to the bruise, which was looking less black and more like splotches of blue and green. “Better,” he said decidedly.

“Good,” Dean replied.

They stopped talking, each turning their attention to the program playing on the TV. Dean had a brief moment of disassociation, watching the scene from somewhere beyond himself. It was strange, he thought, to be sitting in his living room with Castiel Novak, two twenty-somethings living vastly different versions of the same life. Inexplicably, he felt the same thing he’d felt when he was eighteen, lying in the dark, talking to Cas across the room. He felt known, he felt seen, like each and every part of him was open for voyeuristic display. It was nothing Cas had said, nothing he had done, it was just him. The way he pushed and pushed against Dean’s shoddy walls while somehow managing to meet him in the middle, every time.

Dean was grateful for the distraction of food when Sam returned. Dean was quiet during dinner, finding comfort in an observatory role. He wondered at Sam and Cas’s closeness, after only a few days spent holed up together. He rolled his eyes when the two of them began communicating in sign language, because of course Cas knew sign language. When Cas’s eyes flicked to Dean after Sam signed something, and the two of them laughed, Dean huffed and gathered the trash to take it out.

It was a frigid night, his breath visible in the low gleam of the floodlights. He tossed the bag over the side of the dumpster and paused. He dug in his pocket, and, finding both his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lit one up and leaned against the dumpster.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stood there, taking long drags until the end of the cigarette burned his fingers, and then just standing, staring into the parking lot.

“Dean?” A gruff voice called, and he turned to find Cas standing across from him, a tan trench coat thrown haphazardly over his black t-shirt and jeans. He cocked an eyebrow at Dean. “What are you doing?”

Dean dug the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket in answer. “Smoke,” he said.

Cas gave a short nod and made his way over to the dumpster. He leaned against it, next to Dean, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his coat. Dean gave him a sidelong glance, but Cas was looking straight ahead, deep in thought.

“You and Sam seem to be getting along,” Dean said, his voice gruff.

“Your brother is extraordinarily kind,” Cas said in reply, not bothering to look at Dean. “He talks about you often,” he added.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well,” he said, but didn’t complete the thought. He hadn’t bothered to throw on a jacket, and he shivered as the wind blew straight through his thin flannel. Cas was standing close, their elbows almost touching, and Dean could have been eighteen again. He could feel it, somewhere deep in his stomach, that same bundle of nerves and excitement that had always come when Cas was just a little too close. He almost shut his eyes against the strength of it, but he willed it away, looking at Cas instead.

Cas still wore that intent expression on his face as he stared off into the distance. “Hey,” Dean said, elbowing him in the arm. “You creating world peace over there or something?”

The ghost of a smile. “No,” Cas said. “I’m just thinking.”

That was vague. Dean raised an eyebrow. “’Bout what?”

Cas side-eyed him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made a motion with his hand that said, go on.

“It’s just strange,” Cas started, wrapping the coat tighter around himself, “That I should end up stranded here, in Lawrence, of all places.”

Dean resisted the urge to pull out another cigarette before continuing this conversation. “I guess,” he said.

“Stranger still that your shop should be the one closest to me at the time.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda weird,” he said. “I never expected… Well, that’s why I hit my head, anyway.”

Cas whipped his head around to look at Dean in confusion. “What?”

And, yeah, this was embarrassing, but Dean couldn’t exactly stop now. He rubbed the back of his neck. “When I heard you talking to Bobby,” he explained, “I just kinda… Well, I was pretty friggin’ shocked to hear you, of all people.”

Cas stared at him. “Oh,” was all he said.

“So thanks for this,” Dean said, aiming for levity as he pointed to the soon-to-be scar on his forehead. He smirked.

Cas faced forward again. “I didn’t mean to shock you,” he said. “Actually, I had no idea it was you under that truck.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What, even after you talked to Bobby, you didn’t figure it out?”

Cas shrugged. “The life I always pictured you might be living was very different than the one you live.”

Dean immediately felt defensive. “Okay, asshole, my life is —”

“I didn’t say ‘better’,” Cas interrupted. “Just different.”

That shut Dean up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway, “What did you picture? For me?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Nothing very specific. I suppose a girlfriend, a good job, doing something you like, in a place that you liked. You used to speak so fondly of Texas, I thought maybe you’d moved there. You told me, once, that you had thought about engineering. I usually pictured you like that, an office job. A stable life.”

Dean was watching Cas paint that picture. An office job, coming home to some faceless girl and planning his life around the possibility of an okay-marriage and two-and-a-half kids, waking up at forty and wondering what exact point in his life had lead him down this road. It looked wildly unsatisfying from where he stood.

He just made a grunt of understanding. “Well, you were way off, pal,” he said.

Another small smile, like it had almost been contained. “Apparently,” Cas said.

“You know,” Dean said, uncomfortable with the attention placed on him, “You didn’t turn out how I thought either.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well after… You know, I read that thing you wrote. And it was good, Cas, it was damn good.” Something lodged itself uncomfortably in the back of his throat as he recalled the nights he spent wondering where Cas had been, what he’d been doing. He coughed. “I guess I just expected that, by now, you’d have published it. Made a shit-ton of money and bought a douchebag-sized house in, like, Ohio, or something.”

“You make it sound like it’s disappointing that that isn’t the case,” Cas said, and, though he was giving Dean a smirk, his eyes looked sad. Dean felt a pang in his chest at having caused unintentional pain.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Not… I dunno, I guess… I thought that writing stuff made you happy. And…” And you deserve to be happy, even without me. Dean had the words, they were right there, but he couldn’t say them, couldn’t take that first step in bridging the now-unacknowledged divide between them. “Well, it’s not like I pictured you depressed or anything,” he said instead.

Cas turned to look at him. “Are you happy, Dean?”

The gravity of the question, the look in Cas’s eyes, curious and almost pleading, sucked the air right out of Dean’s lungs. And there was something screaming at the back of his brain, that no, he wasn’t, that he hadn’t been, that he could never be, because the one key ingredient to that happiness was —

“Yeah,” Dean replied in a small voice. “I guess so.”

Cas stared at him for a moment longer, still searching, before dropping his head and turning away.

“Are you?” Dean asked, almost defiantly, as if the question had been a test that now he was forcing Cas to take.

“I’m very fortunate,” Cas said carefully. “If I am unhappy, it is of my own doing.”

And that totally wasn’t an answer, but Dean let it slide. It was cold, and his back hurt, and he was tired from a long day at work. Silently, he pushed off the dumpster and began to make his way back to the apartment. Cas joined him, settling into a comfortable gait by his side. The air was languid between them, like it was too heavy to move.

Dean let both of them back inside and Cas excused himself to take a shower. Sam was watching something on TV and raised his eyebrows at Dean’s re-entrance. Dean just ignored him, settling onto the couch, thinking about fate and happiness and whether or not the two might be connected.

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

taglist! let me know if you want to be added/removed :)

@nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers @fortiusnitius 

[cosmiclatte28]

Pretty Boy (KaiSoo)

Kaisoo one shot! 

Based on this pic 

"Get out Kim Jongin! For the last time, I warn you to run before you regret not doing so," a man in his sixties stresses each warning while swinging his golf drivers. Kim Jongin sinks to his knees, he begs with all his might for his father's forgiveness while praying with all his might he can dodge the strong swing his father did. His face has had enough bruises from the painful strong punches his father flew to him earlier. He has to admit, as his father gets older his punches got stronger and his ring stings more. Jongin closes his eyes before he got lucky, the powerful blow missed and hit mother's favorite flower vase. The young boy closes his eyes when he sees the glass shatters along with his last hopes of staying in this house as the second child of the wealthy Kim family.

His brother, Kim Junmyeon, is trying his best to stand still behind his father; though his heart is screaming 'stop' and as much as he wants to jump and protect his brother, Junmyeon knows better to never interfere his mad father. Junmyeon saw the puppy stare from his little brother and for the first time he has to let Kai fight for himself.

"Leave now! You are no longer a part of this family. Take only what you are wearing and leave!" His father screams on the top of his lungs. His breaths are short and his eyes are bloodshot.

Jongin for the last time gestures his apologies and pleads. What else can he do to make his father forgive him? Going low as kneeling down didn't shake father's final choice.

Jongin looks around the big living room for help. He feels humiliated from the cold stare from his father's bodyguards. Mother is running into the room from her shopping and she is more than surprised to see the chaos. Her husband is swinging his golf driver, slamming everything in his vision field, on the other hand Junmyeon is busy signaling Jongin to leave.

"Yeobbo, what is happening? Calm down... your blood pressure will kill." the beauty in the house runs to her husband's side. Her eyes widen when she saw the bruises on her son's pretty face.

Mr. Kim brushes her soft hand away and walks towards his second son, who has his eyes on the floors.

"Why is Kai kneeling for you on the ground? Stand up honey," the sweet voice instructs her son to stand. Kai smiles sadly at the realization that his mother is still calling him Kai, his sweet name.

"No! Let him beg. He has caused too much trouble. Today we got another call from the police informing us this person here—" Mr.Kim points disgustingly at Jongin, "—he was called for a privacy harassment case. This guy here is not my child; my child will never bring disgrace to the family. He won't stalk on some random kindergarten student and make her uncomfortable!"

Mrs. Kim seems baffled, she knew Kai isn't as bright as Junmyeon, but Mrs.Kim knows her child is not into younger girls; moreover she loves Kai a tad bit more than anyone else in the house.

"Yeobbo, maybe the people are only trying to get money from the case... I'm sure our Kai will never do that," Mrs. Kim turns her head to see her son, "Right Kai?"

Kai quickly raises his head and furiously nod, "Yes, mother is right. Please dad, believe me... I am not into young girls! They are only playing tricks..."

His father's anger has resided down, thanks to his wife.

"Right dad, we can always take control of the problems Jongin have." Junmyeon takes a deep breath, "Let me handle him. I'll clear his name."

Mr. Kim starts to swing his stick again; he walks to the kneeling man and arrogantly smacks his lips, "Out. Junmyeon will clean your name for the last time—" Kai jumps to his feet and holds his father's hands

"Thank you... thank you so much dad." Kai flashes his grateful smile.

His father glances at him and throws his hands away, "Who said I forgive you? You're still leaving the house now!" He screams to the boy with bruised face.

Kai is stunned and surprised. His dad is not changing his mind about kicking him out.

Mrs. Kim looks at her husband in disbelief when the bodyguards forcefully drag a kicking and begging Kai out of the room and to the gate.

"Take his wallet and phone. It's still nice I let him keep his clothes he has." Mr. Kim instructs his men to take all of Jongin's belongings.

"Yeobbo, you're too hard on him." Mrs. Kim pleads him with tears in her eyes.

"He needs to learn it the hard way." Mr. Kim stares at the closed gate.

"Whoever dares to help Kim Jongin, will not live in peace. Leave that boy alone. How embarrassing." Mr. Kim stomps and turns to head to his office.

"Junmyeon-a," mother cries when she finds her oldest son standing in the living room heartlessly.

"Why didn't you stop your father? Isn't kicking Kai out of this house with nothing except clothes a bit too harsh?" Mrs. Kim rants her frustration into her oldest son.

Junmyeon brings her mother to his warm embrace, "I'm sorry... father is a hard man."

"Will he be alright?" Mrs. Kim wonders. The wind blows softly and her designer perfume fills the air. She secretly lets a tear out, Kai didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. He only has his denim jacket and jeans in the middle of autumn. The wind gushes once more and Mrs. Kim tightens her expensive coat.

"Mother, let's go in, the wind is getting stronger." Junmyeon leads his mother back into the warmth of the Kim's mansion.

Kai was forced out of his mansion only with a jacket and a hungry stomach. He winces at the pain his body felt. His face aches from the punches, his body hurts from the strong grip and forced dragging earlier, his heart broke when he realizes he lost all of the love in his life.

He walks and walks with no direction; the taxis are tempting, but his wallet was confiscated. Kai pays attention to his steps, he hopes someone left a dollar bill on the road, or maybe he is lucky enough to find some coins. He doesn't know what time it is, but he knows it must be close to dinner time as he sees the sun sets and his stomach grumbling harder.

Kai tightens his denim jacket and pulls his hoodie. He walks quietly and aimlessly to wherever his feet lead. He tries his best to remember where his friends live, so maybe he can come and tell them what happen. Maybe they will feel sorry and invite Jongin for dinner and offer a room. Right, Kai feels warm from imagining a nice warm dinner and a comfortable bed.

Countless names run in his mind, he mumbles to himself "Sehun? No too far... Baekhyun?" he thinks for a moment, "Ah a different province. Chanyeol?? Where's his house again???" Kai stops and squeezes his eyes.

He thinks and thinks, "Ah! Right, Chanyeol has just left to America... Yixing is in China."

Kai continues walking under the full moon. He reaches a small mini market with chairs in the sidewalk. His smile pops and his aching feet make its way to the empty chair. He drops his butt and stretches "Aigoo how nice it is to sit." He yawns, "Ah I'm hungry."

Kai fishes his pockets, biting his lips when he finds out nothing is popping up magically in his empty pockets.

Kai buries his face into his hand and reflects on the unfortunate events that happened to him.

The pretty boy is a second child to the Kim family, the richest man in Entertainment industry. Kim Junmyeon is older by three years. Junmyeon was always the brighter one, the one with medals and trophies, the one who wins thousand of girl's hearts, and who always succeeded in love stories; while Jongin is none of that. He is clumsy and innocuous. Jongin enjoys having fun and living his days to the fullest. He did admit he made a lot of problems since young, but they were nothing big. For example, young Jongin loves animal so much that he secretly opened the cage for dogs that were about to be sold to the black market. He did that out of kindness towards dogs. He once punches a kid bullying a blind girl, and he went home beaten and reported for starting fight. Jongin actually did nothing bad, he's just unlucky that people can turn the table over; moreover when they knew He is That Kim's child.

"I'm so unlucky. How can all of my friends live away from me?" Jongin pulls at his hairs frustrated. He comes to a conclusion he has no help today. He slams his head to the table, which was unfortunate since he forgot he has bruises there.

"Ouch!" he wipes the painful area, his hand punches angrily at the table, "How can I forget I'm already beaten up."

"Excuse me, you're not allowed to sit here." A hoarse voice surprises Jongin. Jongin jumps from his seat then looks around confused.

"Where am I? Jongin wipes his sleepy eyes.

The part time worker rolls his eyes, "You're in front of K mart, asleep for a good one and a half hour."

"What? Asleep?!"

"Yes, and please leave now."

"But this seat is not occupied and there are more chairs over there. Why can't I sit here?" Jongin questions the man in uniform.

"It's written there that these seats are only for our customer. We noticed you haven't bought anything and you've occupied the seat for half an hour." The man points at the sign and towards the other tables which are occupied by people who purchased something.

Jongin's eyes double in size, heol he never know the world is this cruel. All his life he only knows what it's like to have power in the house, to not move a finger and still get anything he wants.

"So, please leave before our boss sees you," the man forces a smile and shows Jongin the way out.

Kai changes his sour face and leaves his chair. He takes one last glance and taunted at the store. Jongin has lost his sense of time and direction. After some steps over the houses, he finally reach a district.He mumbles the street sign, "Hongdae"

Kai walks through the outskirt of Hongdae, he is far from the student-life parties and he is far from the festival lights. He's not going to Hondae without money, heol what will his image be.

The tanned man tirelessly keeps his head down as he traces the outskirt of Hongdae. There are small pubs and bars here, but their signs are not flashy and Jongin felt eerie walking here alone. He paces up his steps and keeps his eyes forward. It's not a good idea to walk here alone; although Kai is a man he still feels his body shakes when passing the cold alley.

Between the absent street lights, another young man sways on the road and stops when he found an unoccupied seat on a closed café. He looks around and giggles when he found no one in sight. While mumbling a happy song and smiling, the man with short hair fishes his box of cigarette from his pocket and flicks the lighters on. He bites the stick between his plump heart lips and skillfully lights the small burning cig. He inhales the burning sensation in his lung and blows out the smoke playfully to thin air.

The world belongs to him only for a moment when he adores the street light which he mistaken as the moon.

"The moon is bright tonight, so bright that my eyes are blinded." The man giggles at his own exaggerated words, "How I wish I have a companion tonight." He huffs out a blow of thick smoke and gets into a fit of coughs when he saw a figure walking over him.

He holds his cough and clears his throat once in a cool way, which successfully caught the passer's attention.

"Hey pretty boy," his deep honey voice did make the passing man's shoulder jump, "It's dangerous to walk alone at night."

Jongin looks right and left and saw no one is there except him, he questions himself, did he hear it right? Pretty boy? Surely that's not him right? But there's no one else except him and that guy who called him.

"Yes you man in hoodie." The caller brings his cig away from his lips.

Jongin points at himself, "Me?"

The tipsy man rolls his eyes and smile. Jongin notes how sweet that smile is under the moonlight. How unfortunate it is that he is drunk and smoking buds.

"You're alone sweetie?" he runs his eyes through the bruised man here, from the clothes and the smell of perfume he sure comes from a wealthy family, but why is he here alone, beaten up, and looked lost.

"You smell funny." Jongin closes his nose; even from this distance it is noticeable. He hates the smell of alcohol and smoke. Voila this man here has both smells.

"I'm sorry, you're drunk. I shall go." Jongin runs his eyes to the road. Why is there nobody in sight... he steps back and gets ready to continue his journey, or run for his life.

"I'm tipsy. Don't be afraid... I'm just telling you it is dangerous for pretty boys like you to walk alone." The man with heart lips shrugs his shoulder and ignores Jongin. He returns to his activity earlier blowing smokes and giggling by himself.

Jongin looks at him in horror, his neck is stiff and his hairs stand. Jongin quickly hugs himself and continues his walk, ignoring the calls.

"Hufth! How creepy! I should've never trust strangers." Jongin keeps his eyes on his feet.

Just then he saw three pairs of shoes in his eye sight and he gulps when he slowly raises his head.

Jongin is a tall man, but right in front of him are three taller and bigger men. All wearing black and looking tough. Jongin takes a step to the side and keeps his head down, but one of the man stops him.

"Where do you think you're going pretty boy?" Jongin curses in his heart, why is everyone calling him pretty boy tonight and why is he so unlucky today!

He slowly meets the big man's gaze when he pushed Jongin's chin up.

Jongin notices these three are no good. They were definitely here to disturb him.

"I have nothing." Jongin makes his voice sounds miserable.

The three men laughs and Jongin forces a confused smile, "Can I go? I have nothing." The three men laughs harder and Jongin is left confused.

"Well, if you don't have money... we're always welcome with services honey." The tallest man with big dark tattoos on his body grabs his chin and stares into his eyes.

Jongin gulps when he feels the other two touching his body, "He really doesn't have anything."

"That means we'll leave you after a good service." The man with golden tooth smirks.

Jongin is tongue tied. He doesn't know what will happen to him... he really hopes someone will help him.

Just when one of them pulls Jongin for a kiss, a loud voice roars and footsteps are heard.

"Go! Leave that man alone. He's mine." Upon that word, Jongin felt the grip lose and the three men runs in panic. Jongin still has his eyes shut in fear.

"Open your eyes. They're gone." A strange but familiar voice greets Kai.

Jongin opens his eyes slowly and finds the heart shaped man with round eyes earlier.

"What are you going to do to me?"

The man chuckles, "Told you it wasn't save to walk here alone."

"What's your name?"

"Kyungsoo," he smiles. Jongin notes how sweet that name is.

"Thank you... for saving me." Jongin bows.

Kyungsoo shakes his hand, "No problem, I just happen to pass by."

"You... how did you make them go?" Jongin sounds confused and curious... he was sure Kyungsoo only yelled some dialect words and they ran for their life.

"Nothing you should know, want a stick?" Kyungsoo offers him a stick when he sees Kai shaking. 

"No thanks, I don't smoke."

"Ah, cliché..." Kyungsoo bites a new stick.

"Why did you smoke? It's not good for you." Out of the blue Kai feels like this man here is too cute to die fast.

Kyungsoo raises his brow, well no one has ever cared to ask him that and this stranger right here does.

"Because that's the only way to remember the taste of her kiss that night," Kyungsoo gives Kai a sad smile.

Jongin's surprised, wow that's dramatic. He thought he was the only one who doesn't feel love right now. Turns out there are people like him too.

"I'm sorry... anyways... let me thank you for helping me," Kai pauses when he remembers he has no money at all right now.

Kyungsoo judges the man in front of him, sweet personality, pretty face, slender body, pure heart, he looks lost.

"Do you want money? Car? House?" Jongin offers his life saver these things.

Kyungsoo giggles, Jongin melts upon hearing that cute laugh and the glowing cheeks. Hell, how can someone looks so scary and tough but with just one laugh he's a teddy bear.

Jongin finds himself drowned in Kyungsoo's deep eyes and squishy cheeks, plus tempting lips.

"Sorry, but you have no money right now... how will you give me those things?" Kyungsoo offers his trademark questioning cute look.

Jongin blushes, he thinks for a moment and impulsively pulls the half finished stick between Kyungsoo's heart lips and he boldly presses their lips together. There's a pungent smell of smoke and alcohol, but Kai is not stopping until the only thing he can taste is something new.

Kyungsoo was taken aback by the sudden action, but instead of pulling or pushing, Kyungsoo runs his hand to play with the taller man's hair. This pretty boy who is kissing him right now is the first person who makes his heart beats faster, butterflies swarming his stomach, and the world once again is pink.

Kai deepens the kiss, he pours his emotion in it and the other man plays along well. Their kiss ends when Kyungsoo hits him to breathe.

Their chests are still heaving up and down from the sudden crazy activity they did. Their hearts are still pumping bloods to their shaking bodies; their brains drown them in Oxytocin and Adrenaline.

They both drown themselves in each other's warmth and comfort.

Kai looks at his shoes and a sudden feel of embarrassment takes over him. He is back to the Kim Jongin mode.

"Right, I don't have the money to give you that..." Jongin rubs his nape.

Kyungsoo smiles, "It's okay... I don't want that."

Jongin confusedly waits for his next request.

"Just give me your name," Kyungsoo smirks.

Jongin laughs, "Kim Jongin, anything else?"

Kyungsoo puts his hands inside his pocket, "Kim Jongin, follow me home tonight. Let me take care of your wounds."

Kyungsoo turns his body and walks first leaving Jongin squealing behind his back. He finally found his guardian angel or maybe his significant other!

"Are you coming or not?" Kyungsoo turns to look at Jongin who's still frozen in his place.

Jongin quickly runs to catch his steps.

"Thank you! What else can I give in return of your kindness?" Jongin asks when they reach Kyungsoo's comfortable and tidy small house. Kyungsoo takes care of his bruises and wounds meticulously like a nurse, and Jongin feels burdened to return his generosity.

Kyungsoo sits beside him with a mug of coffee, he tosses his glance to Jongin and calmly leans in closer, "You can give me your family name later, but for now..." Kyungsoo leans in for a quick kiss.

"Please help me learn the new taste of your lips." Kyungsoo whispers.

Jongin smiles and hugs the man beside him, he thanks Heaven he finds Kyungsoo in the middle of his chaos life, and Kyungsoo thanks the universe for sending him Jongin before he totally lost himself in the dark world.

Jongin learns a good meal doesn't have to come from an expensive kitchen, a good sleep doesn't have to come from an imported mattress, mostly he learns love doesn't have to come from someone in the same league. He learns love can be found even in the darkest and smallest place, only when one remembers to feel it carefully.

In the end, if they were meant to be, fate will find its way to bring them together; no matter what.

[iwaswritingmywayout]

BTMH: Chapter 2: Hasetsu Welcomes You

-one year later-

‘Hi! Y/N Katsuki here! It’s been one year since the epic fail at the Grand Prix Final. I spent the last year practicing with Celestino. I even finished college. Now, after five years, I am back in Hasetsu, Japan.’

It had been five years since Y/N had been in Japan. She originally moved to Detroit to train as a figure skater, but after last year’s brutal lost, she decided to return home. She stepped off the escalator and gasped. There were several posters of herself plastered all over the walls of the train station. Seeing herself grin back at her from several different angles was more than just a little bit unsettling. They all read: “We’re rooting for you!!! Hasetsu native figure skater Katsuki Y/N!”

“Th-this is…when did they have the time to do all this? Whose idea was that?!” She said.

“Y/N!” Minako shouted.

“Minako-sensei?” She said, slowly turning around to face the woman who had always helped her with ballet whenever she was training in Hasetsu. Ballet was very useful with figure skating. It can make your movements look much more flowy, in a way.

“Y/N!” Yuuri shouted.

Y/N smiled widely when she saw her brother step out from behind Minako. She hadn’t seen him since they were both 18, and she was ecstatic to get to see him again. “Yuuri!” She shouted, hugging him tightly. “It’s been so long!”

‘Y/N here, again. My twin brother, Yuuri, and I both trained as figure skaters from the age of five until he ended up stopping at 18 after he suffered a devastating leg injury during a practice. I almost stopped skating as well because I didn’t want to skate alone, but he convinced me to continue skating.’

After talking to Yuuri, she heard a few strangers nearby her start to talk about her now that she had arrived. The things that really stood out are the ‘remember she lost a big competition last year?’ and ‘was it the Nationals?’. She turned around, mortified, emotion clear on her face.

‘Everyone cheered me on just because I’m from Hasetsu. Now, I can’t explain this to everyone, but I’ll just go ahead and explain it in my head. The figure skating competition generally starts in the fall, but I lost big in the comprehensive Grand Prix Finals early on. I couldn’t shake the failure and lost again in the nationals. I didn’t make it to the Four Continents or the World Championships, and now the season’s over! I managed to graduate from college, but I ended things with my coach, and my future is unclear. I decided to come home in the meantime, that’s about it.’

“Can I shake your hand?” A fan told her.

Y/N awkwardly ducked her head, waving her hand trying to scare the fan away. “I’m sorry, but I am in a hurry,” she said, trying to be polite but get the point across.

Minako glared at her. It was obvious that Minako wanted her to shake the young girls hand. Y/N nods and awkwardly smiles before grabbing the young girls hand and shaking it.

“Thank you so much for your support,” Y/N said with a smile, still surprised by the whole situation.

“Never thought I would see the day Minako-sensei had to force you to shake someone’s hand. You used to love doing that, you never had to be asked to do it,” Yuuri said. “How badly did the loss effect you, y/n.”

“Lot worse than people thought it did,” she muttered.

The words Hasetsu Hot Springs Yu-topia Katsuki appeared in the distance and Y/N smiled. It had been so long since she had seen the familiar words of the sign and was so happy to get to see them again. She really missed her family, and if she ever decided to skate again, she knew she would be staying in Hasetsu to skate.

Y/N and Yuuri both smiled as they walked into the building. Y/N looked to the right and saw the World Figure Skating Championships in Yoyogi, Tokyo was playing on the TV.

“After the co-ed’s short program of the World Figure Skating Championships, Russia’s Seonghwa Nikiforov is in first place. After the Grand Prix Finals, he won the Nationals in Russia, as well as the European Championships. He’s still on a roll. The co-ed’s free program will start later today, at seven o’clock.”

“Wasn’t Y/N in the World Championships?” One of the hot spring guests asked.

“She didn’t make the cut, but thanks to that she can finally come home!” Her mother, Hiroko, said excitedly.

When her mother heard the door opening, she turned around. She had a big smile clear on her face. She was obviously very excited to see her daughter; it had been five years since she last saw her in person.

“I’m back,” Y/N said.

“Hiroko! I brought Y/N home! Yuuri came with me, too!” Minako said.

Her mother smiled as she walked to her daughter and son, hugging them tightly. “It’s been too long, Y/N, I wish you would’ve returned home sooner,” she said.

“I know,” Y/N mumbled.

Hiroko walked away from her kids before returning to what she had been doing previously. However, Minako was looking at Y/N closely. She could tell something was different about her, but she just couldn’t quite figure out what it was, until it hit her.

“What’s with that gut?” Minako asked, pulling off her coat that hid her figure. After removing the coat, you could see a bit of pudge on the front of her belly, even though it wasn’t much, Minako made a big deal about it because that isn’t the shape a figure skater should be in. They have to be fit and to her that was not.

Her dad let out a loud laugh. “You look just like your mom,” he said.

“Toshiya-san! This is no laughing matter! This is not the weight a figure skater should have!” Minako said angrily.

“You always did gain weight easily and considering how stressed you must have been because of the competition and Seonghwa, I’m not surprised that you did gain weight. But what can you do? Eat lots of pork cutlet bowls tonight!” Her father said.

“Uh, before that…” she said, not finishing her sentence.

“Oh, right, go say hi to Seonghwa,” her mother said.

Y/N nodded, trudging out of the room and heading to where Seonghwa’s memorial was. She knelt on the pillow placed in front of a picture of herself, yuuri, and the dog when they were young.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see you one last time, Seonghwa,” she said. While Y/N was in Detroit, her dog, Seonghwa, had died. She hadn’t gotten the chance to see her before she passed, and it had bothered her ever since. It was something she had truly regretted.

Y/N heard a door slide open and she turned around.

“Y/N, welcome back,” Mari, her older sister, said.

“Mari, it’s been a while. Sorry to visit when things are busy,” she said.

Mari just shrugged; it didn’t really bother her that she came when they were busy. It was better than her not coming at all. “Hey, how long are you staying? You gonna help out with the hot spring?” She asked, taking a cigarette out of her pocket.

“Huh? Where’s this coming from?” Y/N asked, curious as to what caused her to wonder about what she would do.

“You went to college, even though you had to study an extra year. What will you do now?” Mari asked, lighting the cigarette and putting it in her mouth. “If you are going to keep skating, I’ll support you, but…”

“I think… I need more time to think it over. I’m still not sure what I am going to do,” She said.

“Hmm, okay. Well, go soak in the hot spring and relax,” Mari said.

‘I was born and raised in Hasetsu, Kyushu, a castle town by the sea. The “castle” has no historical basis and is a façade with a ninja house inside. The town’s sole source of income was its hot spring inns, but most went under. My family’s Yu-topia Katsuki is the last one standing. My mother, father, sister, and brother all work there.’

On the TV the World Figure Skating Championships were playing.

“Group 2 has now finished skating, and Youngjae Nekola from the Czech Republic is in first. His free skate performance, befitting the season finale, was free of mistakes, earning him a personal best.”

“Man, I really wanted to go. If only you’d been in it, Y/N. You could have told me the skater’s hotel room numbers,” Minako said wistfully.

“The last group has just entered the arena. All eyes are on Seonghwa Nikiforov who’s going for his fifth consecutive World Championship gold.”

“I wouldn’t tell you! You expect me to be your one-woman ticket agency to score you tickets, don’t you?” Y/N grumbled, crossing her arms.

“That’s not true! I’ve been supporting you!” Minako said, well, shouted.

On the television, Seonghwa skated onto the ice to perform his free skate. Y/N looked up at the television, debating between watching her idol compete or doing something else to not remind herself of the crushing loss she went through.

“He will be skating last. Well, Honda, this is certainly unexplored territory! It’ll be really interesting to see how far he’ll go.”

“What about soccer? Sagan Tosu’s having a match right now,” One of the younger guests, a regular, said.

“When you watch Seonghwa…”

The guest got up, attempting to change the channel with the remote control. Minako did not like this at all. She slammed her drink down onto the table, wildly reaching for the remote that the guest held just out of her reach. Y/N laughed at the interaction, enjoying watching Minako freak out as if she had just found out someone won the lottery and wouldn’t give her any money.

“Hey! I was watching skating first!” Minako said.

“Sagan Tosu?” Toshiya, Y/N’s dad said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” One of the older guests asked.

Toshiya just shrugged before returning to the room he had just came out of.

Y/N had returned to her room soon after Seonghwa stepped onto the ice. Seeing them skating reminded her that she did miss skating, even after everything that happened last season. She knew that she wanted to skate again, but she still hadn’t decided if she’d return to competition or just do it as a hobby. She was turning 24 soon, and she knew after that she wouldn’t have that much longer to skate. The average female competitive skater would retire around 30, and she had only 7 years until she reached that point. However, at the rate her body was deteriorating, she doubted she’d make it that long.

‘When I was 15, I was practicing and suffered a torn ACL, which required me to have surgery. I was out for nine months and had a lot of practicing to do. Every now and then, my knee flares up and bothers me. I had to end my season early when I was 19 and 21 because of the knee pain. My doctors say I am still fine to skate, but I doubt I’ll be able to much longer.’

She placed on a jacket and some long pants before grabbing her skating bag and heading out of her room. She left the building and saw her mother lifting a crate out of a white van, she assumed it was some sort of alcohol, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Oh! Where are you going, Y/N?” Her mother asked.

“Sorry, I’m going to practice for a bit,” Y/N replied.

“Take care!” Her mother called cheerfully before returning to lifting the crates out of the van.

Y/N nodded before waving goodbye and jogging away.

[all1e23]

Home [One-shot]

Characters: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Warnings:  Jealous & possessive Bucky.

Summary:  Bucky runs into his ex at a winter carnival the MC is helping host, but she didn’t come alone. 

A/N: Bucky is pretty possessive, but honestly, I lowkey love it. If you don’t like that kind of thing, probably skip it. He’s still incredibly soft because I can’t write Bucky, and he not be the softest. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though. Thanks!***

Bucky doesn’t think he has ever been this pissed in life. She always did know how to get a rise out of him, though, and if they were still together, he would have assumed this was some ploy to make him jealous. Y/n did that on occasion. She would flirt with one of the guys from another charter, or some punk sitting at a bar, and it always ended up the same way. Bucky would lose his shit. He would scare the dude off, with or without bodily harm, take her someplace private and reminded her who she belonged to. It was just a game -- one they both liked to play. 

This wasn’t one of those times.

Things between the couple ended three months ago, and seeing her still stung. Bucky’s tried to numb the burn with whiskey, club girls, and throwing himself headfirst into club business, but none of it worked. No matter who or what was staring back at him, all he saw was her.

Bucky’s eyes fell back on Y/n, who was sitting at a picnic table on the other side of the schoolyard. She looked bored. The punk nobody she brought with her was yapping on and on, and she looked as if she hadn’t heard a word he said in the last twenty minutes. Y/n sure as shit never looked like that when Bucky was with her, and if she had, he would have fixed that with a little-extended visit to the photo booth.

“Want me to toss ‘em?” Steve asked as he walked up next to Bucky. “She knows better than to bring him around to any club business.”

Bucky shook his head. That was unnecessary drama they didn’t need. 

“Nah, It’s alright. I don’t think she knew it was club shit. Clint’s new old lady was planning the damn thing. Don’t think she put two and two together.” Bucky took one last drag from his cigarette and tossed it into the dirt, rubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

Steve looked over at his best friend, observing him. Bucky had yet to look away from the pair, and Steve didn’t like the glint that was forming in his eyes. “VP, you know you can’t start shit here. It’s a winter carnival. At an elementary school. Kids were everywhere.”

Y/n finally looked up and caught his eyes, letting their gazes linger for just a moment. Fuck, he missed her. She quickly looked away as if she heard his admission. Bucky watched as she leaned over, whispering something to the accountant she brought with her and headed towards the empty gymnasium.

“Buck? You listening to me? We don’t need any extra attention on the club. Not with everything we have going on.”  Bucky heard him, he just didn’t care. Nothing else mattered next to Y/n. He’d burn the club, Steve, the whole God damn town for her.

That’s why their love was so dangerous. It was too bright, too consuming. Bucky would kill for her if he had to. He’s come pretty damn close, and if it came down to protecting her, he would do it without thinking twice. Sometimes Bucky wondered if he loved her a little too much. It didn’t matter if he did, Y/n could destroy his entire life, and he would come back begging her to do it again.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you, Prez.” 

Bucky watched as Y/n stepped into the gym all by herself and closed the door. He started towards it and punched Steve’s arm as he went by, nodding his head towards the guy she had come with.

“Buck, what the hell are you doing?” Steve yelled after him.

He looked back at the taller man and grinned. “Gettin’ my girl back, Stevie.”

The crowd was pretty massive thanks to all of Laura’s campaigning and flyers, so it was easy for him to disappear into the mob of people. He navigated around the crowds of parents and kids enjoying the festival and slipped into the gym without anyone taking notice. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and when they did, Y/n was nowhere in sight. He was sure she went in here, but maybe she bolted. 

Y/n was good at taking off when things got tough.

“That didn’t take long.” Y/n’s voice called from behind him. Bucky whipped around to find her leaning against the wall next to the bleachers, and the raging fire in his chest started to cool. 

“Yeah, I was never much for being patient.” Bucky murmured as he stalked towards her.

“I didn’t know this was a club event.” She whispered, regret filling her features as her eyes dropped to the floor. “If I had, I wouldn’t have come. I know you don’t want to see me. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll be gone.” 

Two dirt-covered black boots appeared in her line of vision, and a finger curled under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his pretty eyes, though they didn’t sparkle the same way she remembered.

“Who said I don’t wanna see ya, sweetheart?” He asked as he took another step towards her, pressing himself against her. Y/n shrugged and helplessly melted into the warmth of his chest. 

“Just figured. Pegs and Pepper said you’ve been all over the club girls. Figured you didn’t want me here messing up your game.”

Well, that explained was why she was out with Joe Six-pack out there. If he could use some random girls to get over her, then she could do the same, she was going to prove to him and herself just how over him she was. It was all his fault Y/n had some other guys hands on her, and they both knew it.

“They really gotta keep their mouths shut,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned forward and nudged her nose with his, his lips ghosting over hers. “Those girls mean nothin’. I was just trying to fill the void you left when you walked out.” 

She shuddered at the smallest of touches and now was no different. It had always been like that, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the way he affected her. Bucky grinned and caged her in with his hands on either side of her head. 

“How’s your date with Mr. Sweater Vest out there? You didn’t look like you were having fun.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at him, “It’s fine. Thank you. He hasn’t threatened to punch anyone the entire night so better than I am used to.” Bucky chuckled and pushed his hips against hers, firmly pinning her to the wall. 

“Funny. Here I thought you liked it when you made me jealous? I guess all those times I pinned you against the wall outside the clubhouse weren’t as good as I remember. You sure did sound like you liked it. If I remember correctly, your voice was awful hoarse the next day.”

Of course, Bucky was trying to get her riled up. He was trying to make her forget all the logical reasons why they broke up and get wrapped up in all the good stuff, the honeyed words, and fire filled touches. Bad sex was not on the list of reasons why she left, and neither was her heart, but she needed more than that this time.

“Bucky…” She squirmed against the wall and looked up at him, “What are you doing? What is this?”

“I want my girl back.” He told her easily. 

“You honestly gonna tell me you’re happy without me? Because I’m a fuckin’ mess without you, baby. I’ll step back from the club if that’s what you want. Sam can take my VP patch, and I’ll come home at five every day and do the whole normal family bullshit. I’ll stop going on runs. I’ll do whatever you want, but I can’t promise I’m not gonna beat some guys ass if he hits on you. I can only change so much darlin’.”

Y/n laughed and shook her head at his declaration.  It was just so… Bucky. “I never said I wanted you to walk away from the club. I just want to know that I come first sometimes.” 

Bucky grinned brightly, the moonlight shining through the windows of the gym and lighting up his handsome face. 

“Doll, my world begins and ends with you. You’ve always been first. I’m sorry if I didn’t show you that enough, but I’ll fix that too if it means you back come home. I’ll make sure you know just how important you are. You’re home, not Steve and not the club.”

A comfortable silence settled over them while Y/n processed what he was asking, and she had to think about the date sitting out there, she needed to get rid of. That wasn’t going to be fun, and he was her ride home. Talk about an awkward car ride. Of course, Bucky could read her better than anyone, and he was already way ahead of her.

“He’s been taken care of.” 

Y/n arched her brow with a disapproving glare, and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Steve and Sam just escorted him out and let him know he’s not welcome at club events, and if he touches what’s mine again, I’ll break his hands.” 

The second he told Steve he was going after Y/n, it was the okay the club needed to escort the guy back to his pretty little Honda Civic.

Y/n relaxed a bit, despite the threat, and her hands slid up around his neck. If she asked him to, Bucky would leave him alone, and she knew that. He was hotheaded, but he wasn’t a bully. 

“We still have to talk, you know.” She tested warily, eyeing him for any sign of deception, “We can’t just jump back into a relationship, and I’m not even sure if I want to.”

They both knew that was complete bullshit, Y/n knew they would end up here the second they locked eyes across the crowd. She’s always belonged to James Buchanan Barnes, and a few months apart couldn’t change that.

Bucky nodded in agreement and rested his hands on her hips, that charming smirk on full blast. “Yeah, I know. But for now, how about I take you for a ride, babygirl?”

[escapingreality1992]

Hoodies and Forever

Natasha x OC - Natasha is known for stealing everyone’s hoodies. She steals one of Erin’s to have her scent on her. After a stressful day, Nat invites Erin for a girls’ night. Erin likes Natasha and vice versa but Erin hasn’t had any experience dating women or seducing them. Nat teaches her a few things.

On a typical Saturday night, I found myself doing laundry; a movie on Netflix usually followed the night’s activities. That or sometimes I’d just want to curl up with a good book and read into the early morning despite training beginning at six in the morning per Captain Rogers’ orders.

           I didn’t mind seeing as I got to see the world’s favorite redhead; Natasha Romanoff. My current crush at the precise moment. I loved the way her emerald eyes shone in the fluorescence of the room, relished in the way she moved when she fought; her partners varied from Steve to Bucky and of course her best friend Clint Barton. I was never lucky enough to train alongside her.

           Fight with her, sure, but I still longed to spar with her. I longed to do “other” activities with her, but my experience with women was limited. Non-existent, actually. I hadn’t even been on a date with one let alone indulged in PDA or sex with one. I hadn’t expected to fall for Natasha, but surprise, surprise, I did.

           I enjoyed her personality; tough, yet there was a softness, a vulnerability. She could be very nurturing if she wanted to be. Comforting, even. I say tough because she’s strong enough to not let enemies harm her or her “family”. She cared for those she had gotten to know throughout the years. To the world, she is Black Widow, a lethal assassin show saved the world from time to time. To the team of Avengers, she is simply Natasha, or Nat as we sometimes called her. She is the woman we all grew to love, me most of all. Not that she knew because I was too damn afraid of telling her.

           I was afraid she’d reject me if she wasn’t interested. My fear was also that she wasn’t even into women, which could potentially kill me. I kept quiet because I didn’t know how she would view me if I confessed. While waiting for the laundry to get done, I sat in the living room, watching YouTube to keep myself entertained instead of cracking open a book I’d finish in one sitting and to not get frustrated having to put it down in between loads.

           The others were out on the town, drinking or hanging out with each other. I got invited, of course, turning it down and sticking to my routine, especially since the clothes were piled into a mountain to my waist. That was three hours ago, and they still hadn’t returned, having too much fun without me. Now I was having regrets about turning the invitation down.

           “Stupid laundry, stupid me sticking to a routine,” I mumbled to myself, clicking on yet another Book Tube video. I’d gotten into several creators who discussed books, seeking out recommendations since I through a lot of books myself.

           “What did our clothes ever do to you?” a voice asked, making me jump as people walked through the front door. I turned to find Steve, Tony, Bucky, Clint, Thor and Natasha entering the compound.

           Of course, they’d return while I complain over the chores, I thought.

           “I mean, did they attack you while we were gone? It looked like they could with that huge mountain earlier,” Tony said, the source of who had spoken.

           “Yes, Stark. They attacked me and it appeared I was no match for them. Would you like to take a stab at them?” I said, sarcasm dripping in my tone.

           “Sheesh, you’d think someone who liked sticking to a routine would be nicer. Guess not,” he said, rolling his eyes.

           “Maybe if people actually started doing their own laundry, I wouldn’t have to spend all day doing it,” I said, a little bitter with his comment.

           “But you do such a great job with it, Erin. I’d hate to stop you now,”

           “Okay, that’s it. I’ll throw you in one of those baskets with the mountain of clothes. Let’s see how you like it,” I snapped, launching myself at Tony.

           “Hey, easy now Erin. No need to take out your frustration out on him. He’s only messing around with you. He wanted to see how you would react,” Steve said, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me away from Tony, who had stumbled back a few paces.

           “Sorry. It’s been a long day,” I grumbled, relaxing in Steve’s arms.

           “How about we have a girls’ night tomorrow. It’ll be just the two of us. Does that sound okay to you? You can come over. We can have pizza and brownies. Maybe a little wine,” Natasha said, the rasp capturing my attention. Though most everyone had rooms at the compound, there were some that elected not to stay there often; Natasha, being one of them, living in an apartment near the compound.

           “Sounds like fun,” I answered, giving her a small smile. While Natasha and I hung out, we mainly invited Wanda and Carol along for some fun too. It had been quite some time since we had spent time alone and I was excited to have her attention solely to myself.

           “Perfect. I expect you over around 8. I’ll get the pizza if you bring the brownies and wine,”

           “Deal. Is that my hoodie?” I said. I’d been too distracted by Tony’s comments I hadn’t noticed Nat’s outfit; a black tank top and brown leather pants with beige booties. Over the tank, I recognized a hoodie I frequently wore on her petite figure. It was a zip up black hoodie that was super soft and super warm. It wasn’t rare to see her in someone else’s hoodie. She was known to take everyone’s hoodie around the compound, not bothering to ask or too lazy to grab one of hers. I hadn’t expected her to pick one of mine to wear.

           A red hue spread over her cheeks at my question.

           “Yes, sorry. I realized I had forgotten a jacket and yours happened to be laying on the couch as I walked downstairs. I grabbed it without thinking. Here, you can have it back,” she said, shrugging it off.

           “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway,” I told her, before it made itself past her elbows. She grinned, scooping it back on her shoulders, shifting her long, auburn hair to where it lay against the black plush material.

           “Anyway…how many loads do you have left to do?” Tony asked, breaking the subtle tension in the room.

           “Three. Are you offering to help?” I said.

           “Sure. Go get some rest. You’ve earned it,” he replied. I took up his advice and said my goodnights to the other before heading up to my room for some needed rest.

              The next night at approximately 7 p.m. I admired myself in the full-length mirror next to my dresser. I had slipped on a burgundy sweater dress that was off shoulder. It was accompanied by midnight black legging and thigh high black boots with four-inch stiletto heels. I was going to wear a black leather jacket over the dress so I wouldn’t freeze going outside, my dark, wavy tresses coming rest just past my breasts.

           I did my makeup with a burgundy eyeshadow, winged black eyeliner that made my grey eyes stand out and a pink lip gloss, making my full lips be on display. I felt I was a sight to behold. I headed downstairs to grab the bottle of wine and homemade brownies, which tasted rich and usually had people going back for more.

           As I rounded the corner to the elevator which would take me to the garage, a low whistle sounded out. Turning, I noticed Bucky staring at me, his blue eyes looking me up and down.

           “Damn, doll. You look stunning. I’m not sure Natasha will be able to keep her panties on,” he said, meeting my eyes.

           “Who said anything about seducing Natasha? Maybe I’d like to seduce you,” I stated, being flirty with him.

           “I’m not sure it’s me you want to flirt with. Everyone knows you like her. Everyone but Natasha,” he said, giving me a knowing look, which cause heat to flare against my skin.

           “Everyone?” he nodded. “My outfit’s not too much is it? I could change…”

           “It’s perfect. Erin, for what it’s worth, I think she likes you too. Why do you think she stole your hoodie?” Bucky replied.

           “She steals everyone’s hoodies. I wouldn’t blame her. They’re super comfortable,” I said, pressing the button to go down.

           “Yours she took to have your scent on her. Good luck, Erin,” he stated as the elevator doors opened. Stepping in, I waited for three floors to drop, soaking in his words. I grabbed the keys to my trusty Honda and walked to where it was parked, climbing in and driving over to Natasha’s apartment.

             “You’re telling me you haven’t walked in on any of the guys naked? Never?” Nat asked, incredulity in her voice.

           “No, never. I’ve been lucky in that department so far,”

           “But you live there. I would have thought you might have seen one of them naked,”

           “Nope. It’s almost like they’re actively trying not to have that happen. The only thing I’ve witnessed is Thor without a shirt on, as well as Steve and Bucky. I don’t think Thor likes shirts. He probably wears them only when he has to,” I said, grabbing another brownie.

           “Do you have a crush on any of them?” she asked me.

           “No, though of all of them, I’d probably go for Bucky,” I said.

           “Ah. You’ve got a thing for metal arms, I see,” she teased.

           “No, he’s really sweet and he likes dancing, so that’s a plus,” I replied, earning a laugh from her.

           “So, you like someone who can dance. I never would’ve guessed it,”

           “I wonder if I’m an old soul in a young person’s body with all I like or do. Turns out I’m a sucker for slow dancing,” I stated.

           “That’s not the worst thing in the world,” Natasha said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. Silence filled the apartment; perhaps we were nervous…maybe I was. I wouldn’t have an insight on Natasha’s feelings because I wasn’t her.

           Imagine the surprise I felt when she leaned in and kissed my lips. She tasted delicious, the sweetness from the wine and the brownies mixed well. I suppose my insecurities got the best of me as she pulled back.

           “Natasha…” I said, not knowing what else to make of what happened.

           “I’m sorry. Do you…Did I make a mistake? Do you not want this? Are you not attracted to me?” She said, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

           “That’s not it. I want this. I want you. It’s just…I haven’t ever been with a woman,” I replied.

           “Oh. That’s not a problem. I can work with that. So, you haven’t had sex-,”

           “No, Natasha. I haven’t been with a woman. Sex or dating. I’m afraid I’m inexperienced on both parts,” I cut her off, glancing down at my hands, embarrassed.

           “Erin, it’s okay. I can work with this. Lucky for you, I know a few things about seducing women and I’m sure dating shouldn’t be an issue,” Nat said, lifting my head up with a hand. She kissed me again, soft, gentle, almost as if asking permission to continue. I gave in, kissing her back even as she licked my lips for entrance to my mouth. My lips parted open to allow her tongue to slip in. She pulled herself closer, pushing off my leather jacket, showing off my shoulders. Moving her lips, she pressed her mouth to my neck, sucking on a spot; a soft moan escaped my lips.

           She shifted our bodies to lie flat on the large couch. She tugged down the sleeves of my sweater dress to let it rest on my hips.

           “Are you okay? Tell me if you want to stop,” she said.

           “I’m fine. Don’t stop,”

           “Alright. May I remove your bra?” she said, still cautious about my boundaries.

           “Yes, you may take it off,” I assured her, lifting up so she could reach around and unclasp it. She pulled it from my chest, dropping it to the floor where my jacket lay. She traced a circle around one breast, the pad of her thumb toying with my nipple. I released a pleasurable sight at the touch, gasping when her mouth pressed against my chest. Her tongue made quick swiped over the nipple, one hand kneading the other breast. She repeated the same motions on the neglected breast trailing kisses to my belly button.

           Natasha pulled the rest of the dress off, followed by the leggings and my panties; I was now fully naked before her. She spread my legs, her fingers approaching my center.

           “Nat…” I said, looking down at her.

           “Relax,” she told me, the sultry rasp sending tingles through my body, the domination in her tone arousing me. It was enough for me to spread wider for her; she stroked my folds and I let out a moan, which only increased in volume when she inserted a finger, then another, stretching me with a third. She pumped in and out slowly, increasing her pace as time went on.

           My orgasm built, threatening to break until she removed her fingers, eliciting a whimper from me.

           “Not yet. I want a taste,” she said, lowering her mouth to my core. The second her tongue licked me, I released a guttural moan, my thighs quivering, head back and I arched into her. She sucked and licked, my orgasm on edge. Until I couldn’t hold back anymore. The dam broke and Natasha took in all of it, cleaning me up before coming back up to kiss me.

           “It’s my turn. Don’t worry. I’ll guide you,” she said, stripping down. She pulled me up and on top of her, kissing me, out tongues tangling together. I repeated the same things she’d done to my chest, her nails digging into my skin. She lifted one of hands and guided it to her thighs, spreading them and moving my fingers to the right spots.

           I did my best to pleasure her, which appeared to be working as she moaned with each touch. I pushed her to the edge, removing my fingers and letting my mouth do the rest of the work. She came undone, a loud moan pouring out of her mouth. I kissed her when she finished and linked our hands.

           “Not bad. Want to get more practice in the bedroom?” she said. I nodded and we walked down the hall to her room to play and kiss until the morning light, ending up in each other’s arms, my head on her chest, our legs entangled.

           “Erin?” Natasha asked, stroking my hair.

           “Hmm?”

           “Is it too early to ask you to be my girlfriend? I’m aware we haven’t gone on a date, but I don’t want to lose the chance to claim you as mine,” she said.

           “No, it’s not too early at all. We can go on our first date tomorrow night. For now, I want to cuddle,” I answered, burying myself as close I could.

           “For how long?” she asked.

           “Forever,” I said. Natasha kissed the top of my head and we both fell asleep, dreaming of a future where we’d never be apart.

[sariasprincy-writes]

Hollow Point 24

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three // Twenty-Four (here) 

Chapter Twenty-Four Can we just pretend?

They didn’t talk. Even after they returned to the parking garage where Itachi had left his car. He simply killed the engine and slipped out of the little Honda, the keys still in the ignition. Sakura went without resistance when he opened her door for her and led her over to his Lexus.

She didn’t know where they were going and she didn’t ask, even as the world outside sped by. She simply sat, watching each streetlight as it came and went out the window if only to distract herself from the reality that she had just thrown herself at Itachi. She didn’t know if she was more humiliated by that or by the fact he had stopped them.

Silently, Sakura snuck a peek in his direction, only to find his attention was focused solely on the road. He kept both hands on the wheel, his gaze flickering from the pavement ahead to the rearview mirror and back again. Itachi hadn’t bothered to put his jacket back on, instead leaving it abandoned in the backseat. Without it, she could clearly see his shoulder holster now, his gun tucked just under his arm.

Her eyes continued to wander. Over his shoulders where his grey shirt fit comfortably, not too tight nor too loose, and up to his face. She couldn’t read anything in his profile but that didn’t stop her from trying.

At some point, they pulled into a residential neighborhood. It was then that she realized they were heading towards his townhouse. The very one she had gone to that early morning the day after Ino’s parents had been murdered.

Itachi pulled into a small driveway beside the house and parked the car before he led her around the side to the front door. She followed after him silently, slipping her boots off in the entryway as he headed further inside, switching on lights as he went.

The last time Sakura has been here, she hadn’t ventured inside very far. She had simply gathered the information she had wanted and disappeared back out into the dark. This time, she made her way in slowly, eyeing the craftsmanship of the crystal light fixture above and the beautiful, dark wood floors.

At the end of the hall was a staircase that led to the top floor and just before that was a set of wooden, double doors that led to the rest of the home. They were open now and Sakura headed towards them, not entirely sure where Itachi had disappeared to. Not entirely sure what she was doing there.  

He wasn’t in the living room, but she stood near the entrance anyway and gazed around. There was a rustic but modern feel to the place. She had half-expected Itachi’s house to be decorated in monotone greys but it wasn’t. All the furniture and cabinets were trimmed with wood of deep browns and auburns. The couch and large, floor rug under the coffee table were a matching off-white.

But it was the upright piano in the corner of the room that made her take a double-take. This one was tall and narrow, nothing like the baby grand piano in Tobirama’s condo. She barely saw it at all under all the piles of paperwork and miscellaneous items. More of a second table than a musical instrument.

Sakura had barely begun to study it when Itachi entered the room behind her and asked, “Do you want to shower?”

She pulled her attention away from the piano to look at him. In his hands he held a towel with a shirt and pair of sweats on top, both obviously his. She almost shook her head ‘no’ but thought better of it.

Under the spray of the water, it occurred to her that this wasn’t the first time she had showered under Itachi’s roof with nothing but his clothes to change into. Only this time it felt more intimate. Like things between them had shifted. Although, for better or for worse, she wasn’t yet sure.

Even after taking her time, Sakura’s head still wasn’t totally clear, but she couldn’t justify standing under the spray any longer after having washed her hair twice.

Itachi was in the kitchen when she finally wandered back downstairs. She paused in the doorway to watch him as he moved a kettle of hot water off the stove before he shut off the burner. It felt a little odd, not bad but odd, to be standing there in such a domestic setting.

“I know tequila is your favorite, but would you like some tea?” he asked with a quick glance in her direction before he opened a cabinet.

Sakura shot him a look. “You make me sound like I’m an alcoholic. I drink more than just tequila, you know.”

An amused smile crossed his face as he pulled out two mugs and filled them with water. The delicious scent of orange and cinnamon reached her nose as she approached the counter to accept the drink from him. On one side, the mug read: “Coffee, cause adulting is hard.”

She hid her smile as she sipped slowly. She could only agree with that.

The tea helped fight off the cold from her wet hair. It warmed her hands and her chest as she sipped, settling low in her stomach, but it was nothing compared to when she looked up and found Itachi already watching her.

He gazed at her over the top of his own mug. Just the two of them standing there quietly in his kitchen. Her wearing his clothes. Just being with him for no other purpose than company. They really didn’t have anything more to discuss and yet she found herself not having any desire to leave. Somewhere far in the back of her mind – or perhaps not even that far – she knew this was dangerous.

Not knowing what to say, Sakura chewed the inside of her lip. Fortunately, Itachi broke the silence, but it wasn’t exactly what she was expecting him to say.

“I’m going to shower. Make yourself at home.”

Alone again, Sakura didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her gaze wandered back over to the piano, but rather than making her way towards it, she eyed the rest of the room, giving pause when she saw a handful of photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. They were the only photos in sight.

With her mug in hand, Sakura wandered towards them. Immediately she recognized Shisui beside Itachi in almost all of them. Together, just doing ordinary things: riding dirt bikes on an unpaved road, playing soccer in high school or college, posing together in their nice button-down shirts at what appeared to be a wedding.

The last photo had Shisui in it as well, but between the two of them was another woman. They were all wearing matching team, baseball shirts with a field behind them. Likely at the local stadium. She was wedged in the middle of the pair, her arms thrown around their shoulders and a wide smile on her pretty face. She looked about their age, and with the same eyes and nose. Definitely a family member. Another cousin or perhaps a sister?

Sakura didn’t know. And an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in her chest, knowing she didn’t know because she had never asked. She thought back to all the times Itachi had ever asked her about herself. Perhaps back then she had thought he was prying, but now...now she wondered if he was just genuinely curious about her.

Turning away, Sakura passed the bookshelf and she paused to read a couple of titles there if only to distract herself. There was a mix of everything. From World War Two history to travel guides on places all around the world to poetry.

Still, she found her eyes wandering back to that piano in the corner. Glancing back towards the doorway, she listened to the quiet. She could just make out the muffled rush of water from the shower. Itachi wouldn’t be down for at least another few minutes.

Setting her mug on a coaster on the coffee table, Sakura wandered towards the instrument, her fingers skimming over the side in a featherlight touch before she lowered herself down onto the bench before it. She lifted the soundboard gingerly before she played a few slow keys, listening for their sound. The notes fell in tune, but she didn’t immediately continue. Instead she listened for the shower one floor above.

Only when it reached her ears did she finally raise both hands, her fingers falling on those familiar keys. Playing the song that had been buried so deep in her soul for so long, she no longer knew the name or if it even had one.

That was how Itachi found Sakura sometime later. He had heard the music from upstairs the moment he shut off the water for the shower, but had assumed she had found the radio. Only now did he realize how wrong he was.

Frozen in the doorway, Itachi simply stared, the hand towel-drying his hair stopped mid-motion. She was seated across the room, behind the instrument pushed into the corner. It had been there for so long he had nearly forgotten it was there. Her fingers moved over the keys so easily, so seamlessly. Like she wasn't playing a piece she had memorized, but instead playing a thought, a feeling. Just lost in the gentle sound her own hands were creating.

There were no words to describe the melody. It made him feel a little hopeful, a little sad and full of such a longing he couldn't quite remember the last time such an emptiness had settled so heavily in his chest.

With her back to him, she hadn’t yet seen him. And though he couldn’t see her face, she had never looked more stunning in that moment. Dressed in his shirt and sweats, her feet bare and her hair still wet and drying around her shoulders. Something that had nothing to do with the music rose up in his chest.

Without daring to make a sound, Itachi crossed the room towards her. He left his towel on the counter, his own bare feet not making a noise against the wooden floors. He stopped some paces behind her, waiting to speak until the song had passed its crescendo and had slowed into something softer and more drawn out.

“Where did you learn that song?” he asked. And he immediately regretted it when her fingers paused over the keys.

She frowned, seeming to seriously consider his question. “I don’t remember,” she murmured, briefly glancing at him over her shoulder. “It’s just always been there.”

Her fingers returned to the keys as Itachi lowered himself down into the seat beside her. Only this time she played softer. More like background music. He simply watched her play, unable to draw his eyes from her fingers as they danced so effortlessly across the keys.

Then she stopped again. “Do you have a sister?”

Blinking, Itachi lifted his head to meet her gaze. A little confused. Wondering where that question had suddenly come from. Still, he shook his head. “I have a brother.”

“And he's CIA?”

“No, he’s a helicopter pilot in the Army.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say after that and so resumed her song. Only this time she played slower like she was thinking less about the music and more about something else. Eventually she said, “You don’t talk about yourself very much.”

Neither did she, but he didn’t point that out. Merely canted his head. “What do you want to know?”

Sakura opened her mouth only to close it again. Like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to ask. Her uncharacteristic shyness was so charming, Itachi couldn’t resist smiling.

Then he pursed his lips, thinking what to tell her.

“My birthday is June 9th,” he finally began slowly. “I was born in Maryland but moved to New York at ten when my parents got stationed here. I have three Bachelor’s degrees.”

Sakura's brow rose. She looked like she was going to ask one question but changed it mid-thought. “What else?”

Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “I can speak Hebrew and enough Arabic to get by. In the morning, I need at least three cups of coffee to function, and you…” he started, his voice trailing off for a moment. “You have the most beautiful emerald eyes I have ever seen.”

Sakura’s fingers faltered on the piano. She stilled before she turned her head to look at him. He met her gaze unabashedly, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips. She seemed like she didn’t know what to say, but her gaze dropped down to his mouth as she worried her own bottom lip between her teeth. Like she knew what she wanted to do but wasn’t sure she should do it.

Itachi made the decision for her. Ducking his head, he pressed his mouth to hers, starting where they had left off less than an hour before. Sakura responded without pause, shifting on the bench to better reach him. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as he slid his hand across her jaw to angle her face towards his.

This time, there was no rush. No adrenaline to cloud their judgement. No worry or concern. It was simply them and all the emotion that had been building since longer than either of them were aware. He kissed her slow, taking his time to familiarize himself with her. Her taste, her feel, her scent. Only now he could only smell his own shampoo in her hair and his body wash on her skin.

Something primal reared in his chest. Adjusting his grip, Itachi pulled her closer until her legs were on either side of his hips. In one movement, he stood with her in his arms, her thighs secured around his waist. They only made it as far as the couch, his mouth never leaving hers as he lowered them both down.

There, they spent most of the night. With only soft moans and sighs to fill the quiet. His hands and lips traced every inch of skin, paying particular attention to the bruises still on her wrists, her stomach and her hips. Where the memory of her attackers would soon fade. His touch left her breathless and yet he gave her everything she wanted. When he finally pushed inside her, their bodies moved as one. Working together to find that release that made the rest of the world and all its problems fall away.

Itachi brought them to climax there and then again some time later after their hearts had settled to something less frantic before he brought her upstairs to his bedroom. Then they did it all again.

It was only much later when the horizon began to lighten did they lay still. Sakura rested half-across his chest, her head on his shoulder with her breath ghosting across his neck. Itachi dragged his fingers through her hair in lazy strokes, the action lulling him to sleep as much as her.

“This complicates things,” Sakura murmured into his skin after the silence had stretched on for several minutes.

Itachi frowned but didn’t stop the gentle motion of his hand. He liked the way her silky strands fell through his fingers. “I know.” Then he added, “I still do not regret it.”

“Neither do I,” she murmured. “But we both know this can't end well.”

Itachi’s grip around her tightened minutely. “Says who?”

“Itachi…”

He didn't answer her right away. He tried to remember the last time he had felt this content. He knew Sakura was right. Those very same words had been in the back of his mind, just waiting to spring forward. But he didn't want to talk about it right now. Right now, he just wanted one night.

Rolling them over into their sides, Itachi pulled her flush against him, until their breath matched every inhale and exhale, and their hearts found rhythm together. “We have plenty of other issues to concern ourselves with,” he told her. “Just for tonight, can we pretend this isn't one?”

Sakura didn’t respond, but after a moment, he felt her nodded against his chest. Itachi smiled against the crown of her head before he finally let his eyes slip closed. The warmth of her heat and the softness of her skin lulling him to sleep.

xx

When Sakura awoke in the morning, it was to a muffled shuffling somewhere nearby. She forced her eyes open abruptly, her mind already racing for where she had left her gun. Only to relax when she spotted Itachi across the room. The events from last night flooded her memory but there were no feelings of regret or embarrassment. Only a fullness she couldn't quite explain. It was still there when Itachi finished buttoning his jeans and turned to see she was awake.

“Hey,” he said with a soft, albeit apologetic smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” she lied, dragging a hand down her face. Then she glanced out the window. The sun was still out. “What time is it?”

“Almost three in the afternoon,” he told her as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it down over his head.

Which wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t fallen asleep until sunrise.

“I wish I could stay but my work called. I have to go.”

Sakura was surprised to see real guilt on his face. As if he honestly felt bad for leaving her there. She was just as surprised to feel disappointment rise in her chest. But she hid it behind a teasing smile.

“Or you could stay. Tell them you broke your phone,” she offered.

The guilt vanished to be replaced with amusement as he approached the bed to sit on the edge at her hip. “Unfortunately, it is important. But stay as long as you’d like. There is coffee already made and food in the cabinets.”

Sakura cocked her brow. “You tell me that like I actually know how to cook.”

“Surely even you can boil water for instant noodles.”

“I think you have more faith in me than you ought to.”

Itachi laughed – a true, honest laugh – before he leaned down to kiss her. He lingered for a moment before he pulled away and stood. “I have to go. I’ll leave a key on the counter.”

Then he was out the door.

Sakura laid there for a few minutes, just listening to the silence of the townhouse echoing back at her and her own breathing. It was this quiet she was used to waking up to. This stillness that echoed back at her. But never did she feel lonely. Not until now.

A long, heavy breath passed between her lips. She raised both hands to her face, her palms digging into her eyes. What did she just do? She had told herself only yesterday morning that she couldn’t get involved with Itachi and then the very same night she had jumped into bed with him.

She didn’t regret sleeping with him – Gods no. But she did regret sleeping with a CIA Agent. Kakashi had been annoyed when he had found out she had shared a bed with Tobirama. He would lose it when he found out she had done the very same thing with Itachi.

There were no outcomes of this that she could think of that would end well. The CIA didn’t exactly operate completely within the bounds of the law but they were still a government entity and she was an international criminal.

Dropping her arms back against the pillow, Sakura stared at the ceiling. Itachi hadn’t seemed too concerned about it. But then again, he had more to gain from this arrangement. Though she didn’t think he was using her. She had been manipulated enough times in the past to recognize it. Rather, she and Itachi were just strangely drawn towards one another. Like magnets, it had only been a matter of time before that invisible pull snapped them together.

But just as Itachi had said, there were plenty of other things to worry about. This one fell somewhere near the bottom of the list. At least for now.

That was enough to draw Sakura out of bed. She showered again, cleansing the stink of sweat and sex from her skin and replacing it with Itachi’s clean scent before she dressed herself in her clothes from yesterday. She grabbed her gun from under the mattress where she had stored it the previous night before retrieved her phone from the nightstand and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, there was a key sitting on the island counter. She pocketed it and took a sip of coffee from Itachi’s unfinished cup. Only to freeze as something caught her eye.

The piano, the one that had been so full and cluttered last night, lay bare. All the books and old mail that had been laid abandoned upon it were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of dust left. It had been wiped completely clean. Spotless.

Sakura knew without a shred of doubt Itachi had done it for her. Something settled in her chest. So heavy and full, that it felt both like happiness and sorrow. Her fingers itched for those keys. To feel their weight under her fingertips. To touch it and caress it as Itachi had done to her last night.

Sakura took one purposeful step back. Then she turned and made her way out the door.

to be continued…

[worldaliasarts]

Red Lips

Alister Kirkland x Momoka Honda

Part 1

TW: Blood and Cussing

Momoka brushed her hair a few times over before pinning a bright red flourish flower in her hair to match her blushed lips sighing gently.

Her father had promised another dinner to Oliver Kirkland, but failed to inform the family until that morning, with a pointed look towards his eldest daughter, Momoka. She had overheard their speaking of alliances and never understood why it would be of benefit to any one save for the fact her father figured she would not ever find love elsewise. He wasn't wrong. She wasn't looking. Besides it wasnt as if he or her mother entirely found love themselves...it felt nearly hypocritical, but she would do what was needed in order to please her father...even dining with a foolish boy..one with stupid pink hair on his stupid smiling face. She nearly hated him if she was being honest, he was always so carefree, unburdened by life...she was envious of it, as if it was a gift passed from the universe only to him, wholely unattainable for her.

She pursed her lips, adjusting her top to hide the ink on her skin, she figured Oliver would not take a liking to her many tattoos, in that case maybe she should show them off, in hopes to scare off the family and free her of them..maybe.

She left her shirt where it was, standing up.

Kusuru walked past her door pausing to look her over "you look nice, bachelorette"

"Oh shut your face, dumbass" she walked over kicking his calf, making him yell,

"Shitface!"

"Takes one to know one!" she furrowed her brows, shoving him out of the room, closing her door hard. Her cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she brushed her hair back into its place with the tips of her fingers, ignoring her brother's taunting voice outside of her door.

The consideration of all that might be neccesary to rid herself of these people was now more inclined.

She listed all the things she knew the Kirklands hated in her mind,..cussing, blood, she figured tattoos as well, and excessive showing of skin..that one she admittedly disliked herself...her father would certainly strike her, until she had learned her lesson after dinner, but that would be worth it....

Wounds heal.

She refused to be pawned off to be the mother and home maker of some weak willed child, who wasted his days with knitting and baking and frilly western dressmaking, was he even a man??

Certainly not by her standards....

And if she was to be arranged in marriage, she at least wanted a man.

She stripped down to her lingerie running a finger lightly over her collarbone as she stared at herself in the mirror, she may be labeled as one who lives a debauched life, someone with loose morals, or no regard, but once she'd risen to power, and taken over the family mantle, any mistaken fool who thought that would be swiftly corrected.

She knelt in front of her dresser, and pulled open the drawer, gently pulling out each part of her kimono.

She put each layer on, loosely, allowing it to droop around her shoulders, making certain she looked indecent.

She pulled on her tabi socks, before she pulled the pretty hair pin out, setting it down carefully on her vanity. She stood walking across the room before kneeling once more, in front of a cabinet..she supposed now was as good a time as any to open it.

She pulled open the small wooden box, pulling out a small bottle of rice wine, gently cupping her hand, and pouring it lightly in, lathering it over her neck and some through her hair before she took a small swig, exhaling gently, returning the bottle to it's place and closing the doors.

She looked down at her palm,..perhaps this would be enough...perhaps drawing blood from herself might be crossing the line....

Her cheeks heated as she practiced in her mind acting like a loose lipped drunk, she wasnt entirely sure that she was capable...she supposed that she would have to be in order to pull this off.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a car pulled into the gravel drive. She glanced out the window as three people came out and approached her front door, she waited until they had been welcomed into the home before she made her way out of her window, climbing down to the ground, careful of her clothing, before giving her hair one last good toussle.

Kusuru answered the door, looking their guests up and down crossing his arms, biting the inside of his cheek as he stepped aside, watching them take their shoes off and step into his home.

Oliver Kirkland. Father to the child whom his sister was promised to, along with his wife, Aubree, who looked like she'd rather be literally anywhere else, than here with any of the people in this room, and of course the golden child himself, Alister Kirkland..his presence unsettled Kusuru, he didn't understand why, but he hated the tension in his nerves, and his unconcious flinching as he approached.

"やめて,(stop)" he growled slightly, glowering down at the pink haired boy

He laughed lightly "I hope you're doing alright Kusuru,.." he gave a gentle smile

"しね、ねずみ(die, rat)" he spat, his nose scrunching with distaste as he tried his best not to look unsettled. He was successful.

Alister blinked, smiling with another laugh "いお、ごめなさい(okay! I'm sorry.)" he bowed apologetically "I didn't mean to offend you Honda-San.."

Kusuru blinked, taken slightly aback, he hadn't expected to be understood.

"Please...make yourselves comfortable, I apologize for Kusuru's behaviour,..." His mother excused him gently, as she poured some tea for their guests, looking back at him from the corner of her eye.

Kusuru gave a huffing sigh, shifting and glancing away, he knew there would be words later, but did both of his parents honestly expect to marry his sister off to this freak? When she could break him with her pinky?? Their parents expected them both to just go along with it? No questions asked and no attempts to get out of it?...Though that was moreso his mode of operation than hers.

He glanced to the staircase. She must have gotten cold feet he guessed,...if she didnt have to be here, maybe he didn't either.

As if reading his thoughts, his father cleared his throat "Kusuru, retreive your sister.." he added a look to make sure he knew he'd better return, and he nodded, swallowing lightly before moving towards the stairs, rapping on her door "Momoka....everyones waiting for you, stupid.." he sighed.

Being greeted with silence, he furrowed his brows, and opened the door, his brows furrowing deeper into a frown "Momoka??" he looked around her empty room, walking over to the windowsil "Momoka..??" he called.

There was not even a trace of her.

He glanced over seeing her hair pin from earlier.

"Shit," he slammed a hand against the window frame, before he pinched his nose sighing, "Why do I have to cover for your selfish ass" he gritted his teeth, growling quietly, before he headed back downstairs.

"Where is your sister?" His father demanded.

"Not here.." he said giving a nonchalant look paired with a shrug he knew he'd regret.

Oliver gave a sympathetic smile in the Japanese man's direction, "Don't worry Kuro, we can come again another time.."

Kuro narrowed his eyes "...I plead you stay for dinner nontheless"

Alister nodded piping in "I think that's a wonderful idea,..! May we please, Mummy?" he asked looking to Oliver.

The older man smiled and nodded patting his son's head "Of course Poppet"

Kusuru furrowed his brows looking to Alister "What?"

He met his gaze, tilting his head innocently,

"Are you sick in the head or something??" Kusuru asked

"No...I don't believe so, why?" he asked, tilting his head some in the other direction.

He pointed to Oliver "You have to have hit your head extra hard then, because t h a t is n o t your mother, he has a dick-"

Oliver stood abruptly, placing his hands over Alister's ears, his eyes swirling just slightly "I'd rather we kept the conversation elsewhere..." he spoke quickly.

Before the black haired boy could continue, the door creaked open and a barefooted mess of a girl stumbled forward, tracking mud inside, giggling in a stupified manner before falling over against the wall, squealing lightly.

Kuro's eyes widen, along with the rest of his family's and their guests.

"Momoka Honda!" his voice cracked through the air, and her giggles, and she stumbled into a mostly upright position, placing a hand over her mouth, in order to look like she was stifling a laugh.

Alister's cheeks blazed red on her account as her kimono fell a little looser, falling off her shoulder completely. He rushed to her, pulling his hooded teal cloak from his shoulders, leaning up in order to drape them around hers, in an attempt at modesty for her.

"..Are you quite alright, love?" he asks, genuinely concerned about her, gently taking her free hand as a means of stability, to her surprise, causing her to blink, staring down at him, her cheeks warm at the physical contact. The words in her mind, her actions muddle.

She couldn't think.

Her brain paniked as she tries to process everything, her master plan had been easily thwarted and she was unsure how to proceed.

"..Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhit." she said the only word on her mind.

Oliver's eyes swirled faster, and he cleared his throat.

Alister's eyes flickered as well, as he continued to look up at her "Poppet,..-" he said, before glancing away and looking back at her "-Love, it's alright, you're home now,...you should go and get some rest now"

She took in a quiet, sharp, and shakey breath before she gave another loud giggle "You...you shhhould see your faces right now..!" she stumbled forward, leaning on Alister a little as she carried on in a sing songey manner "Shit shit shit shit shit shit sh-" a finger covered her mouth, and the grip on her hand was tightened, as Alister's smile twitched "Please don't speak anymore," he said with gentle cheer.

Momoka's eyes widened slightly, her mouth gaping some as her eyes drifted to her hand, that he was gripping, as she gave out a small cry of pain.

How did he have this tight of a hold on her?? her fingertips were changing colour, from the grip of this...twig??

Kusuru moved himself, suddenly standing between his sister and the strawberry blonde. "Back up,.." he growled.

The smaller boy blinked, letting her hand go, allowing her to stumble backward, holding her hand close to her chest underneath the cloak, as she fell against the wall with a quiet thud.

"I apologize, I must have zonked out for a moment there,.." he gave a gentle innocent laugh before looking at the slightly shook up Momoka "Love, are you alright,..?" he asked, once more, moving towards her only to have Kusuru side step and block him.

"You've done enough, she's fine without you, rat" kusuru hissed.

Momoka glanced away, looking at the door, she wasn't actually drunk,...her mind worked just fine...so why did she still feel like her thoughts were muddied, one gigantic crashing sound in her brain, "God..damn..." she exhaled, sucking in a breath as she felt her body being shoved against the wall, Alister's eyes hot pink, burning into her as he gripped her mouth, leaning up on his toes in order to whisper in her ear "If you do not stop speaking I will do so for you,...in the least cute way you can imagine.." Momoka furrowed her brows, anger boiling up in her as tears pricked her eyes, she shoved him off of herself "do n o t touch me, you vile small man" she ripped his cloak away from her neck, throwing it at him, about to shout once more before Kuro's voice is raised and he shouts "Enough!"

All three looked to him.

"All of you. I have seen e n o u g h." He points to Momoka "You have shamed myself and this family more than you can repay in this evening or any other..!"

Kuro kneeled into a deep and respectable bow, his wife following suit, beside him as he spoke to Oliver "I sincerely hope you may forgive my foolish children, and their many ailments"

Oliver gave him yet another sympathetic smile "...Its expected for things to be dicey with two..i understand, dont worry, old friend"

"Thank you..." He sighed, and slowly sat up "..If you will continue to endure us, we can start dinner, however I understand if it is not your preference.."

"You would know." Kusuru mumbled.

Oliver glanced to him arching a brow "Whatever do you mean?"

"...You would know how things get dicey, having two kids. You were just less fortunate with the seating arrangement" he gave Alister a look which was hard to decipher.

"....Perhaps.." a still feverish eyed Alister spoke "...But it has it's advantages." He returned the unreadable look.

Momoka looked between the two boys, her cheeks burned from where Alister's nails had dug in, and her hand still pulsated, she could feel a bruise building on her wrist...no doubt he could kill her,...if he wanted to. It was a thought she hated in itself, but it didn't change that fact.

She adjusted her clothing layers to be tighter around her body, while the attention was not on her, continuing to turn it over in her mind. Perhaps it wasn't actually a matter of alliance, it was a matter of her being his only option. Either way she was a pawn, but this new thought made her feel especially discardable. He shouldn't even be her problem.

Then again, was she ever really more than discardable to her father? He was a cold hearted man...he had made her cold hearted too,...though not so much that she was unable to consider the possible consequences to repeated offenses.

She wondered what Alister was capable of....what his father was capable of...perhaps her defiance would put her family in danger.... This was the thought she disliked the most.

She gently lowered to her knees, as well, gracefully stretching her arms out in a bow "...I....sincerely apologize" she started, everyones eyes turning to her. "It was uncooth of me to present myself in any style less than what is deserving in honour to you,..all...."

She remained there, her eyes trained on the floor as she waited.

Aubree was the first to speak "We all do stupid..." she paused clearing her throat "...stuff. Dont worry about it, honey"

she glanced up only slightly to look at the woman, before looking down once more "You are more than too kind.."

Aubree nudges Alister nodding towards Momoka, and he walked over, kneeling and taking her hand, the pink hue finally discipating, the bright blue returning, before he furrowed his brows "Love, why are you on the floor??" he pulled her up to her feet as he stood "Are you alright..?" he asks again, and she cant help but sigh, nodding "Yes...I am fine, I apologize,..."

She fought the urge to slid her hand out of his as she spoke again to ask "Might I go to my room..and refresh myself?"

Alister kept hold of her hand until they reached the staircase and she ascended, disappearing momentarily.

She sat in her room pouring jasmine scented oil along her scalp, combing through her hair in order to lesson the smell of sake.

She brushed a part of her hair back one more time, clipping in the red flowers, painting her lips again with red, before returning downstairs.

Alister looked her over with surprise, before a gentle smile formed "You look beautiful"

Her cheeks heated once more and she looked away "...you flatter me.." She felt so silly, feeling her heart beat rising once more over this man.

He shook his head "I mean what I say.."

Kusuru made a loud gagging noise in mockery of the two, wincing as Momoka socked him in the side.

"Bitch!" He yelled at her, shoving her before Kuro cleared his throat and Momoka coiled back from her almost retaliation.

"My apologies..." she said, folding her hands together, tightly, before she walked to the table, taking a seat.

Kusuru and Alister sat on either of her sides, causing her brow to twitch with irritation, though she remained silent.

The three of them remained silent for the duration of the night, apart from asking to pass condiments, allowing the adults, mostly the two men to talk between themselves, the whole dinner.

As the night came to a close the Kirklands departed, Alister placed a shy kiss on Momoka's cheek, much to her dismay before waving goodbye and heading out into the dark.

As soon as the car was gone, Kuro turned to his children "...Strip and wait for me outside." He commanded, as he headed to his study in order to get his bamboo sticks.

The two gave each other a look before doing as the were told, kneeling on the grass in nothing but their under garments.

Their father appeared beside them making as if to hit Momoka first, she tensed, but didn't feel the sting, rather she hears a small cry out of her brother's mouth, before he curls his mouth in, biting to keep himself silent.

"How dare you call our guests rats." His father struck him "At all, let alone to their faces." he struck him once more, his voice raising "and telling them to die!?" he hit him once more "I will make you w i s h you had only been speaking to yourself!" he continued to strike him, until he heard another pained noise out of his sons mouth, having drawn blood, he continued to beat him, for a while longer, creating streaks along his back, before he ceased, looking to Momoka "And you."

She tensed more preparing for her share of strikes "you shame our family, our name, and purposefully provoke your soon to be husband"

"...I would never marry that monster.." she whispered under her breath.

The man gave a dry laugh "do not speak as if you are above him. You too have spilled blood and harmed others...and done worse." he motioned to her brother "you did it just now."

She looked down, biting her tounge to keep from lashing back "...I am sorry, father."

"I'm not the one who needs to be apologized to."

She looked at him and looked away.

He handed her the bamboo "strike your brother"

"But father-"

"Strike him, or i will do so, ten fold on your behalf!" he shouted

She flinched slightly, and stood to her feet, sending a crack against her brothers back, making him dig his nails into the dirt.

"Again." Kuro commanded, and she did so. "Again." he repeated, and she looked at him, hesitatig, "please father, allow me to take my own punshiment..."

"You are taking your own punishment!" he shouted, pointing to her brother's bleeding back, he understood their closeness, even when they acted as if they hated one another. He knew how much this hurt her. "Strike him again!"

And so she obeyed, continuing for what felt like an eternity to both of them, before he allowed her to stop. She helped her brother to his feet, heading inside to clean her brother's wounds.

She is gentle when doing so, with little compensation. Though she hadn't pictured it exactly this way, the consequences were as she figured.

This would be the one and only night anyone suffered from her failure to consider consequences.

She bound up her brother's whole back in gauze, helping him to his room, putting him under the sheets, face first.

She sat on the floor in front of the bed "Im sorry Kusuru, I never meant..." she sighed "I never wanted you caught up in my issues"

"You're a piece of shit.." he growled lowly, tilting his body a little so he could look at her.

"Yes...I know" she frowned some at him.

"But you're still my sister, you dumbass, and I dont know what the hell is broken in that candy man's head, but I don't want him anywhere near you. He's a freak and he's gonna hurt you.. He already has hurt you."

Momoka looked at the carpet sighing "I can defend myself just fine, Kusuru. Besides...his father likely wouldn't be happy to hear that. In either case, if i can't defend myself I ought to get hurt... and if i can't defend myself from death...I ought to die." she stood, sighing "..but thanks for worrying.. it's nice to know you care" she gave him a light head pat.

"I still hate your guts though." he made sure she knew and she nodded "i do too." she mumbled and flicked off his bedroom light, going to her own room, flopping on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the night..what a terrible terrible night.

With her mind refusing to relax, and the smell of sake and jasmine mixing in her hair, she gave up on all hopes of rest. Getting up, she headed off to the bathroom.

She sat on a stool, splashing water over her head a few times, before climbing into the bath tub, trying to do a better job of relaxing with the steam and gentle sway of the warm water helped.

She closed her eyes, remembering how the hairs on the back of her neck stood when Alister's eyes changed colour, she'd never seen anything like it,...even more frightening was his father, though he controlled himself much better.

She paused, recalling the words Aubree spoke just in her ear when departing, "I..wouldn't want to knowingly be married to that either,..." she had said.

Strangely enough, she may quickly become her only ally, understanding what it would be like to walk on thin ice within your own home all the time..

Was that going to be her future? Walking on eggshells, and building a family that was only hers to care for? Was it really t h a t silly of her to think if she ever did get married, her husband would tolerate her instead of love her? Even that would be better than a daily threat on her life...though he was sick enough in the head that maybe that was how he showed love.

She supposed Alister might learn to tolerate her...in a more normal manner. She had never been the focus of his anger like that...he seemed so...vulnerable.....until he was pushed. 

She sunk further under the water, immersing herself fully, wanting to just stop thinking about everything, but she couldn't, it just continued, round and round in her head, and then she bobbed her head back up out of the water, panting, light and breathy.

She pulled herself up out of the water, reaching to grab a towel, pulling it over before pausing to glance behind, a jolt rushing through her body, as she hurried to pull the towel around herself "Alister, what the-" his hand was once more clasped onto her cheeks, as he reached over from the windowsill. 

"No more unclean words this evening, Poppet" 

 She gripped his wrist, ripping it off her face, as she stepped backwards, climbing out of the bath  "What do you want?" she growled to hide her fear. "Don't you have any sense of decency?"

"Decency?" he scoffed, traveling into the room with ease and grace, landing in front of her, getting close to her, running a hand over her back into the small of it, pulling her closer "You're one to speak with all that you tried to pull this evening.." 

She backed up, gripping the side of the tub. He stepped closer, wrapping a hand around her waist a little more "Besides...everyone knows that you belong to me by now.." he spoke in a hushed tone, it sparked an angry flame in her chest, and her hair raised before she shoved him off "As if I would ever submit to anyone-any t h i n g" she corrected herself "like you." she glowered down at him, making the most of their height difference "you are small and insignificant, and no amount of anything you could do to me would change my mind."

He laughed "The look in your eye makes me wonder which one of us you're speaking to, Poppet.." he cupped her cheek "Don't act so big and mighty, 10 inches is not 10 feet," he said as his grip shifted to around her neck as he forced her to the ground "and even if it were, anyone can be brought down...haven't you ever heard of David and Goliath?"

She couldn't help but wince against the black marble floor as her knees hit it. She didn't dare to look up at him. She wished her mind and heart weren't warring against one another, she could neither be submissive nor dominant firmly with her internal conflict continuing. She hated it.

Nearly as much as she was beginning to hate this man.

He ran his fingers through her long wet hair before he wrapped it around his fist, pulling her up, towards his face, making her squeeze her eyes shut.

"Poppet...we can still make this work,..frankly you don't have much choice in the matter. Alister needs someone. And I chose you...seeing as no one else is remotely good enough.."

"...You're your own problem.." she gritted her teeth "If you weren't so broken and twisted perhaps Alister could actually find someone to care for him..." she spat, not looking at him.

He gave a dull laugh "I'm what stands between Alister and getting his heart crushed..what you call broken and twisted, I call protection.

"...You're crushing his heart yourself, deeming everyone less than good enough for him, hampering any chance of him finding genuine love." she said, her brows furrowed.

The man also furrowed his brows he nearly scoffed, but she continued speaking.

"It makes sense that Alister should get to decide himself...he's his own person" She sighed, looking up at him, "I'm not going to hurt him...I'm an Asshole not an idiot..."

While he hadn't appreciated the language, he understood, his grip loosened up enough for Momoka to pull her head away from his grip, though she felt a few strands tearing away from her head as she did so. She rubbed the spot, pulling herself to her feet. 

"But that doesn't mean I could ever honestly love him either. I will do what I must, and see that he is cared for. Enough to protect my family. Nothing more."

"He will be your family soon enough too."

She sighed, scratching her eyebrow, he wasn't wrong, but she knew he was well aware of what she meant "Please leave my home."

He looked from the pieces of her hair between his fingers to her, "You weren't ever drunk were you..?" he asked quietly.

She didn't understand how his tone could change, how he felt bigger, more authoritative when he was like this.. 

Where she normally wouldn't feel the need to respond, he made her feel as though she didn't have a choice but to respond.

She shook her head lightly "...No."

He hummed, "Good." he stepped towards the door "Go and see him tomorrow,..properly." he commanded before he slipped out of the door, and out of the house through the front door, without so much as a creaking step.

Not even Momoka could do that, even with all her stealth training,...she continued to feel inferior to this man. And she continued to hate it.

She leaned back against the bathtub, sighing. As if she didnt already have far too much on her mind....

[its-love-u-asshole]

Twelve Hours [Ch. 6]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just…a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: Yay, I got through hell chapter lol. Action scenes are the worst, let me tell you, but I hope everyone enjoys this update! I think the pain was worth it... Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over! 

AO3

There was nothing quite as jarring as waking up one morning, everything as normal and mundane as the last, only to find the human right to living had been tossed into a raging hellfire.

The announcement of the Purge and its passing had put a hold on Kuroo's thoughts; no more qualms about the homework he didn't proofread the night before, or the Poptarts burning in the toaster. Kuroo forgot them all, and would continue to ignore them until the burning turned to smoke and sent the alarm blaring through his eardrums.

No, Kuroo had just stared at the television, life knocked off the rails with no hopes of finding the previous track ever again. He never thought anything would be quite as disorienting as that, but he had to admit, getting hit with a car came pretty fucking close.

The next hit caused him to lurch forward, and the seatbelt dug into the skin of his neck. He couldn't see anything except flashes of headlights and blurred faces, but he needed to snap out of it, needed to get control where he could.

Thank god Terushima wasn't a completely hopeless driver.

"Yuuji, back up! Back up!" Futakuchi yelled, and the blind trust which existed between them paid off. Terushima put the car into reverse with jerky, but efficient motions, not stopping to question why or how come.

Thank god, or else their front would've been unsalvageable.

The other car, zipped past the windshield, barely missing them, before correcting itself again. The car might've been smaller, but that heavy armor was not fucking around and neither were the drivers.

In short:

"Fucking step on it!" Tsukishima ordered, finally finding his voice, and no one was going to not listen to that.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, oh--"

"Yuuji." A chorus of three voices sounded, panicked, but loud enough to make Terushima put his foot to the floor. They sped off in a haze of sparks and burnt rubber, tearing down the street onto a section of empty freeway. No one cared about staying on course. Right then, it was about getting out alive.

Alive...

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima sat, instantly finding the sizable dent visible from where they'd first been rammed at the side. If the car had been any less secure...

Tsukishima, who'd also been marveling at his 'near death' marker, just laughed nervously. "I know this is a really bad time, but the shell of this car is amazing."

And Kuroo, despite the way his body lurched from a sudden turn, regardless of how he could see the sedan barreling behind them, couldn't help but laugh back. If he and Tsukishima still kept their humor through all this, maybe he'd be able to not think about the game of vehicular pinball they'd been forced into.

Maybe.

As if there to shatter that, the sedan revved its engine, now beside them, and--

"Shit!" Suga cried out as he leaped to the other side of the car, not caring about Yamamoto's personal space as the car angled itself to hit the driver side. It missed, but Kuroo doubted it would again.

Terushima broke hard, arm moving to pin Futakuchi against his seat as they all flew forward. Swearing, Terushima let the car get ahead of them for a split second before moving the van into a full u-turn, taking them down another desolate stretch of highway bridge.

Yamamoto barfed, but no one seemed to fault him for it.

And damn that stupid little sedan, it had no problem adjusting itself, already on their tail again.

"These people are insane!" Terushima's voice screamed over the screech of metal as he turned the wheel frantically, not caring where the car went as long as it was away. He looked over his shoulder, taking the van's accelerator to its limits and doing his best to block the other car.

"They know that!" Kuroo yelled, but it hardly mattered when they were grazed again, only somewhat saved by Futakuchi's quick thinking. The brunet grabbed the steering wheel, turning it sharply so they swerved off the adjacent exit.

Didn't help much.

"Fuck," Kuroo growled, weighing the pros and cons of asking Terushima to open a window so he or Tsukishima could shoot. But if the other car had guns, which they certainly did....

"Too risky, too..." Tsukishima muttered beside him, and it was only after a few seconds Kuroo realized he wasn't talking to him, but himself. His golden eyes flicked about the cabin, straying on the windows, scratching at the leather, anything which might lead him to a solution.

And that was when Kuroo realized the bitter truth. No matter how prepared he or Tsukishima had been for this night, no matter how much they knew what to expect, when moments like these actually came there was no room for rational thought. No amount of knowledge or planning would change the fact that as soon as danger arose, all thoughts flew out the window, and all that was left was pure instinct, and the will to live.

Ha. And he'd thought his bullet proof vest was gonna help. So rich.

"Go faster!" Suga begged, his voice breaking, and he clung to Yamamoto's jacket like a lifeline. Yamamoto just sat there, staring lifelessly ahead.

The engine revved. The sedan nudged their back bumper.

"I--I don't--this is as fast as it goes! I don't--"

"You don't know what you're doing!" Tsukishima practically snarled from the backseat, and to Kuroo's horror, he looked prepared to jump from his seat just to take the wheel for himself.

Tsukishima's belt was already off by the time Kuroo figured out that was precisely what he planned to do, and as Tsukishima rose from his seat, Kuroo's arms wrapped around his waist in a flash, pulling him down with a fierceness that shocked even him.

The next hit came, and they lurched forward, but Kuroo did not let Tsukishima leave his arms.

"Don't ever do that." Kuroo's voice quivered, and he knew it wasn't an order, or laced with anger.

Tsukishima didn't take it as such either, just squirmed in Kuroo's arms until their eyes could meet, hand on Kuroo's pulse, frantic. "We have to do something! They're going to run us off the road if we don't--"

"There's no way I'm letting that tiny piece of shit run us off the road! Fuck that," Terushima hissed, following the curve of another ramp. He hit part of the median, taking the turn too fast, and his side mirror snapped off. "Dammit!"

"Hey did you not see what kind of car that is? Be realistic," Tsukishima scolded, and as usual, Terushima wasn't having it.

"So what? I've got just as much thick plating on this car as--"

"No, it's a fucking Honda!" At this point, Tsukishima was so enraged, he slapped his hands against the seat on either side of Kuroo's head, his voice distraught and gargling. "Don't underestimate people who drive Hondas, they're vindictive little bitches and they're not going to give up!"

"Oh my--shut up!" Futakuchi screamed back. "Whatta you know? Do you drive a Honda?"

Tsukishima leaned forward in Kuroo's arms, not minding the constraints as he growled back. "Yes smartass, I do."

Sure enough, what was supposed to be an insult quickly dissolved into a revelation. As soon as Futakuchi made the connection, his face showed it, the fact they were all fucked finally dawning on him. "Ah shit."

"Yeah, exactly," Kuroo couldn't help but add.

The car lurched again, and Kuroo took action, pinning Tsukishima to his seat until he got his seatbelt refastened. With that solved, he loaded up his gun, seeing no other way at this point.

"Kuroo, you can't." Tsukishima leaned forward, and Kuroo stubbornly pushed him back. "If they shoot back--"

"It's that or lose the car," Kuroo replied, fixing Tsukishima with an intense stare. The conflict showed on Tsukishima's face; he knew Kuroo was right. Even if they survived a crash and got away, being on foot during the Purge....

Unthinkable.

At this point, Kuroo was pleading."It's strong but it won't take many more hits like the first one. We're obviously not going to lose them, so--"

"Yes we are!" Terushima cried back, revving the engine to no effect. There were tears in his eyes. "I sacrificed so much to get to Takahashi and no one is ruining that for me!"

"Yuuji," Futakuchi begged, hand tightening on Terushima's wrist. "We can't--"

"I won't go back to my mom like this!"

Suga's head popped up from where he'd been hiding in Yamamoto's shoulder, eyes flashing with something pitiful.

Futakuchi only stared, hand falling away even as the car rocked. "Yuuji..."

Kuroo wondered if it was the gasoline in the air making his head cloud up.

Kuroo couldn't hold it against Terushima. His desperation, his refusal to be defeated...

Those were things which had been so strong in Kuroo at some point. To think he'd been robbed of them tore him in two. But they weren't gone completely, and his willingness to help Terushima proved that. It might cost him his life but, he wanted to be useful again, wanted to fight for something.

Kuroo's only regret would be that in the grand scheme of the Purge, his death would be nothing but a statistic delivered cheerfully by the morning news anchor. That, and he'd never be able to see Tsukishima again.

But no. No way. There had to be a way to get out of this...They just needed Terushima to--

"Well if these guys kill us, you won't go back at all," Tsukishima voice, cold but loud, rang through the car as blunt as ever. Suga winced, and Futakuchi looked close to berating him, but Tsukishima continued to shout. "I know it sucks, I know nothing is going to stop you from getting where you want to be...from your revenge! But don't be an idiot! All this means nothing if you end up dead on the side of the road, so quit whining!"

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima's hands were curled at his side, shaking, and not from the car ride. Tsukishima related, perhaps too much, and Kuroo promised to stay alive just to find out how much so.

If only Terushima had listened.

Terushima's eyes widened, and he hit the steering wheel with his free hand, shaking his head. The blare of the horn rang out. The delusional muttering filled the car, and Kuroo knew it was over. "It won't catch us, it won't..."

Kuroo looked behind him slowly, just as the sedan found an opening.

Even as he tried to scold him, Tsukishima's voice had a fearful edge. "It will with your drivi--turn, turn!" Tsukishima's voice was too little too late though. Futakuchi reached for the wheel, his hand tightening over Terushima's as they turned it, but it was pointless.

The sedan had veered around them, risking it all to slide against them. Afraid and trapped, Terushima took the bait.

The tires screeched as Terushima turned them too quickly, the car spinning out until it connected with a pole. Kuroo wished darkness had settled in fast as soon as he grabbed Tsukishima's hand, but unfortunately, he stayed as aware as he'd always been, the crash whirling by in slow motion.

--

When he'd promised himself he wouldn't let go of Tsukishima, he had meant it, even if he had to be dragged out of the car with him and onto the rough pavement.

Even as hands tugged at Kuroo's shirt and kicked at his body, he stayed glued to the blond, and he didn't care when the ground scraped skin from his palm.

Tsukishima hissed as his elbow slammed against the cement from being thrown down, but didn't release Kuroo's other hand. Guess the feeling was mutual, or maybe Tsukishima needed something to steady him. Either way, Kuroo's hold tightened.

Don't do anything brash.

He couldn't say it, so he stared at Tsukishima, asking, begging for him to stay down.

The blond looked absolutely livid, and the only real reason he'd probably stayed put on the cold floor was the gun pointed casually at his chest. It sent fear rushing up Kuroo's entire body, and he moved to push himself in front of the weapon, only to be kicked down by a pair of cleats.

Kuroo coughed, and Tsukishima immediately pushed against the gun, drawing attention away from Kuroo.

So pathetic, Kuroo told himself. When would Tsukishima stop protecting all of them by himself? It wasn't fair to the blond. Kuroo should've been carrying some of that weight.

"I hate fighters, and you guys reek like 'em," the masked man spat, pushing the gun into Tsukishima's clavicle. Again, Kuroo watched as Tsukishima's eyes bulged in panic, but not from the fear of death. Despite the way the gun bruised porcelain skin, Tsukishima looked observant, clinical, his thoughts racing to get them out of this.

Kuroo had to do the same.

Kuroo's gun sat out of reach, and if he moved for the knife in his pant leg, he'd surely be noticed. This guy was too close to make a move...

Hopeful thoughts, too hopeful, raced in his mind.

Yeah. They could do this. Some kind of surprise attack? Maybe if one of the others could get free they could...

"Get off me!" He heard Suga snarl as he too was dragged from the wrecked car, and his glare didn't diminish when his body slammed against asphalt. His body trembled, afraid, but well, Kuroo could tell by now Suga did not like being controlled.

"Shut up!" One of the assailants said, one of four, from what Kuroo could now discern. The man made a move to slap Suga across the face, and he flinched, but it didn't stop the rage from bubbling out of his mouth.

"Fuck you! You first!"

Kuroo wanted to think he was an idiot. That he was too naive and this show of bravery would mean nothing if it got him killed. Kuroo always tended to think things like that, because admiring someone's actions during the Purge meant very little to him. What was the point?

But now, looking at Suga's dirt stained cheek and disheveled person, he felt nothing but respect.

At least Suga made some good impressions during the short time in this life.

Instead of punishing Suga though, the man looked to his friend, the smile on the mask conveying the sick cruelty well for once. So cliche, so stupid, and Kuroo was just as dumb, powerless to do anything except fling pointless insults in his head.

The other accomplice responded to the look by pointing both his guns to the huddled heap which was Terushima and Futakuchi.

Against his better judgement, Kuroo called out, demanding. "Get away from them!"

But no one bothered him with a glance, he wasn't going anywhere after all. Not with Tsukishima under the mercy of a gun. Trapped.

Suga's breathing trembled, and he stared, fixated on his friends as they were threatened for the first time.

Futakuchi sat there, curled up and hand clutching his head from the shock of the crash. Terushima's hand cradled his head too, as if the extra touch would solve all his ailments. Of course, it didn't. Futakuchi wasn't in any state to speak or look up at what endangered him, much less fight back. Not that Terushima would let him, from where he curled himself over Futakuchi, shielding him from both guns.

"See, that's what I thought," the assailant laughed, watching Suga's speechless face. He tapped the gun against Suga's cheek, but that didn't do much to change his expression. The shock stayed, persistent. "Whoops, I broke him."

The man next to Tsukishima, who Kuroo now noticed wore a striped tie, clicked his tongue. "They're no fun when they're like that. Gonna have to snap him out of it somehow..."

Tsukishima and Kuroo looked at each other helplessly, echoing each other's thoughts.

What do we do? We have to help them. We said we'd help them.

Tsukishima grit his teeth so hard Kuroo thought they might shatter, glancing between every member of the group of assailants.

Right. They knew what they were dealing with.

Striped Tie is here with us. Double Barrel hasn't moved from Terushima and Futakuchi...

The man currently prodding at Suga, who Kuroo referred to as Blue because of the god awful blueberry jeans he wore, only sighed.

But wait, there were four before...

Where--

"Hey Reo, maybe we should bring out their friend's body," Blue called out, his voice filled with a disgusting level of amusement which made Kuroo's blood run cold. "I'm sure that'll get a reaction."

Kuroo heard a choking noise, and barely processed that it came from him.

Terushima's body whipped around at the same time all their heads turned, looking back to their beat up van. Another man, Reo, sat against the side casually, fitting perfectly into a dent. Behind him, in the second row of seats, Yamamoto was hunched over, lifeless.

Kuroo's stomach twisted at the same time Tsukishima's head fell forward, disbelieving. The sound from Suga's throat was not human.

They'd failed. He'd failed. No one was supposed to--

"Yeah," Reo sighed, reaching in to pat Yamamoto's motionless form. "They can't all make it I guess."

"Don't touch him!" Tsukishima's head flew back up, and it was...it was scary enough to make even Striped Tie flinch a little. "I--I'll--"

But then, Terushima's weak tone broke through the dread drenched night. It reminded Kuroo of a whimper, and when Kuroo looked to him, he wished he hadn't. "W-wha--no. No, he's--"

The limbs holding onto Futakuchi had stiffened, as if Terushima's body were nothing but a sculpture. The only thing which told Kuroo the other hadn't just died from shock, was the trembling of his lip, the sheen of his eyes. "Yamamoto..."

In that moment, all Kuroo wanted to do was apologize, but he didn't know if he'd be given that chance.

I'm sorry you had to go through this.

Worst of all, Kuroo couldn't completely say he was surprised.

"Ah, it's the driver," Striped Tie laughed, unaware of the dread seeping into the group. He addressed Terushima, but Kuroo doubted the other heard any of it. His head had moved from Yamamoto's direction, fixed against the asphalt. "Good job by the way! That was a fun chase, you need to work on parking though. Maybe then your friend would've fared better."

Kuroo made a move to stand, to punch someone in the face, but Tsukishima's hand flew to his, pinning him there. Kuroo could feel the graininess of his palm, where the gravel had stuck.

No, Kuroo couldn't sit here. There had to be something he could do.

All his dumb internal advice about caution, rationale, and survival went down the drain. Someone was dead, someone he promised himself to watch over. Nothing mattered except saving the rest of them, some sick form of redemption he didn't have time to think about. Perhaps it was the selfish kind too, or the plain unwillingness to die himself.

Whatever it was, he had no time to be ashamed. He had to fight. If only Tsukishima would let go.

"Just let us go! Why do you even want us?" Suga shouted, and what a useless question, but it got the attention off Terushima.

"Why? Because we can," Double Barrel replied, shrugging like they'd just asked him what he wanted for dinner instead. “Two of us saw you dicking around at the gas station, you were easy targets.”

And yeah, Kuroo expected as much. Purging wasn't supposed to have a point. Not everyone listened to that, Terushima for instance. The point of the night was to release 'primal urges,' or that's what all the propaganda said. Killing for sport, essentially.

"For us," Blue jumped in, ruffling Suga's hair. "You were in the right place at the right time. A van full of idiots, perfect for purging."

"Not idiots," Tsukishima muttered beside him, seething, and Kuroo began to worry about how his shoulders shook. Upon looking down though, he noticed Tsukishima's fingers slowly scratching at the loose chunks of asphalt, suppressing himself with the cruel motions. No wonder his palms had been so rough...

Wait.

Kuroo hated the expressions about lightbulbs going off in people's heads, but it was the closest comparison right then. The chunks Tsukishima had managed to scratch free were medium sized, large enough to throw, to maybe obscure vision...

And yeah, it was a shit plan. A shit lightbulb. The goons were close by, even if they were just joking around with each other and not paying too close attention. If Kuroo managed to get it in Striped Tie's face, then great, he'd get shot by one of the others in the next second. But, he hoped the moment of distraction would let Suga or one of the others get the upper hand.

Even that wasn't a solid plan. None of them seemed in the right state of mind to think so fast.

But Kuroo had to try. If he could take one hostage then they'd have some equal footing...

In any case, he'd free Tsukishima, and that was a threat in and of itself.

Slowly, Kuroo moved to scoop up the rocks and pebbles, nudging Tsukishima's hand out of the way. But the blond's other hand clamped down on his, not allowing him to move.

One look at Tsukishima's face, and it became clear.

Ah, must've had the same idea as me then.

Kuroo almost laughed. Made sense, Tsukishima didn't seem like the type of person to do anything without reason, including digging up the floor.

Regardless, Kuroo's resolve was hard to move. He looked at the blond, taking in his features just in case. The darkness under his light eyes, the long eyelashes, the almost fully faded scar on his cheek which he hadn't noticed before...

He wished he'd been able to reach out and trace it, just once.

Let me do this. Let me help you this time.

Kuroo hoped his pleading carried through into his expression, willing Tsukishima to follow him for once. When the shaky hand against his loosened its grip, Kuroo knew they had an agreement.

Be safe.

That's really all he could hope for, the rest he left in Tsukishima's capable hands.

He steadied himself, put weight on his foot, and took his last breath, vision tunneling to see Striped Tie's laughing face alone.

This was his only shot, and he counted a few beats, letting the energy build in his muscles before rising up. 3...2...1...

Before he could lunge, or even move, a fist connected right against Reo's face, bringing all eyes to him.

Double Barrel hesitated, Blue dropped his gun, and Kuroo didn't take the time to comprehend how Yamamoto had manifested out of nowhere. He looked at Tsukishima, and from then it was all instinct.

Kuroo lunged at the same moment Tsukishima grabbed his gun from his back pocket, turning towards Blue and firing with no hesitation. And at this distance, those rubber bullets lost the label of 'non-lethal' real quick.

But Tsukishima didn't shake or tremble when Striped Tie was brought to the floor by Kuroo, only waited for Kuroo to roll a safe distance away before firing.

"H-hold it right there!" Double Barrel turned both his guns away from Terushima and Futakuchi, but it did him no good. He was distracted, aiming at Tsukishima when the real threat came from his side. All it took was Tsukishima hitting him in the leg for him to drop one gun, allowing Yamamoto to grab it.

The next few seconds were an eternity, but regardless, he didn't take his eyes off of Double Barrel as he lived his last moments.

"Wait, stop!" Double Barrel pleaded, but hadn't they all plead enough?

In the back of his head, Kuroo wished it would've been him firing the gun though, just for the sake of keeping Yamamoto the same man as before this night, but some things were not meant to be. It had to be done, this night couldn't go perfectly.

The Purge never did.

Fueled by pure adrenaline and protective instincts, Yamamoto fired straight into Double Barrel's head, ending it.

The gunshot rang out, echoing down the empty stretch of road. Tsukishima gasped lightly, finally lowering his weapon as his head cleared. Yeah, I know. The blond most likely realized all the things Kuroo had. Yamamoto was alive, but they still hadn't managed to save him in other ways. Somehow, Kuroo knew that disappointment would come back to them eventually, but at least it didn't weigh as heavy as blood.

Kuroo walked slowly towards Yamamoto's quivering form, hands raised. "Hey man, you got him. It's okay now..."

Or as okay as it could be.

"Tora," Suga whispered, walking past Kuroo, past the invisible perimeter he had marked. Unafraid. He didn't think Yamamoto would hurt him. "Time to put the gun down, alright?"

Kuroo felt Tsukishima come up behind him, also following the order by holstering his gun as well. Kuroo mouthed a silent thank you, but truthfully he couldn't express just how grateful he was.

All eyes were on Yamamoto, waiting, watching for some sort of reaction. Even Terushima looked stunned as he lifted Futakuchi to his feet, gaze flicking to every corpse on the floor.

Yamamoto looked between all of them slowly, then at Double Barrel's body, and at the gun in his hand. His eyes went from dead, to clear, to frantic, and he turned every which way, the realization dawning on him. He let the gun fall to the ground, then abruptly clutched at his stomach, and--oh. Oh okay yeah, he's puking. Awesome.

The shattering of frozen time didn't happen the way Kuroo expected, but come to think of it, this made perfect sense.

Yamamoto heaved, but after that car ride, not much was left in that stomach of his.

"What the fuck! Guys!" He threw his hands up, gesturing to the bodies and the blood on his jeans. He looked downright ridiculous. "There's so much--wha--look! All the--the blood. Oh my god--"

"Er...Tora..."

"Fuck! I just killed someone! Holy fuck, shit--"

"Yeah congrats," Tsukishima deadpanned, his face losing its concern in favor of the usual annoyance. "You seem just fine to me..."

"I know," Kuroo muttered, leaning into the blond. "They don't make criminals like they used to. Did they even check his vitals?"

"Apparently not."

"Hey assholes, I was out cold! It sure felt like I'd died," Yamamoto hissed, his hands moving across his limbs and abdomen. His panic turned into a delirious grin at the realization he had every piece intact.

"So what, you just woke up?" Tsukishima asked, walking towards where Suga was currently checking Yamamoto's head for worse injuries. Thick skull on that guy...

Yamamoto swatted Suga's hands away. "Pretty much, and then I saw all the guns and...yeah, I lost my shit when I saw you guys in trouble."

"You could have died," Kuroo scolded, but deep down, he was beyond thankful.

"That's a weird way to phrase 'hey Yamamoto, thanks for saving my life' but I'll take it," he replied with a sniff, and a poorly concealed smile. And well, how could Kuroo fight with that. He smirked, giving an appreciative nod.

"Fine fine," Tsukishima sighed. "But please, no scares next time."

"You do care!"

"Shut it."

It was then Futakuchi's groan captured their attention, the brunet rubbing at his head with dreary eyes."I don't know exactly what happened, but...we won yeah?"

Tsukishima arched a brow. "Are you alive?"

"Who knows."

"Good enough."

Terushima handed Futakuchi gently over to Suga before rushing to Yamamoto's side. He looked like he wanted to tackle him to the ground, hug him until he ran out of breath. But something made him falter in his step, like Yamamoto being alive was too good to be true.

He touched Yamamoto's arm, the flesh firm and real against his, and then he sighed, shaky and relieved all at once.

"Tora...you're really--you're not dead. Oh my god...you're not dead!" Terushima laughed, the tears beading in the corners of his eyes as he finally embraced his friend. "Thank god you're not dead! I'm...I'm so--"

"Shut it, you're still the best leader," Yamamoto said gruffly, rolling his eyes. "Even if you can't drive."

Terushima sobbed through his laugh, and Suga and Futakuchi joined in, huddling around the two. It made Kuroo smile, glad they could stay together.

Yet...

"There's still hours to go," Tsukishima whispered beside him, watching the makeshift family reunion with barely concealed wistfulness. He didn't sound hopeful or afraid either way, but the statement was eerie enough to make Kuroo figure out the point.

Anything could happen in those hours.

But somehow, watching the group hug and cry in front of him, and with Tsukishima by his side, he wasn't as worried as he was before.

"Then, we'll just have to get through those hours," he said, rolling his shoulders back. Tsukishima turned to him, eyes widening as the words sank in. Then, slowly, acceptance settled in those beautiful eyes, and Kuroo stared at the blond's lips as they formed the smallest of smiles.

Again, not everything that night had turned out so bad.

He did have a tiny afterthought though...

"Hey," he said softly, undoing the straps of his bullet proof vest. Tsukishima watched him with concern, the protests so clearly on the tip of his tongue. "I want you to wear this."

"Kuroo-"

"Nope, you're more likely to get in a gunfight than I am," Kuroo laughed, tying the vest around Tsukishima's form against the other's wishes. Shockingly, Tsukishima didn't put up as much of a fight as he could've, and Kuroo truly believed he could've. But instead of leaving Kuroo on his ass, Tsukishima stood frozen as their bodies scrunched close together, and Kuroo fastened the vest.

If Kuroo didn't know any better, he'd say they were both holding their breath. But, that must've just been his imagination talking.

"No taking it off you hear?" He asked, smirk extra infuriating.

Tsukishima's eye twitched, and he crossed his arms, but he made no move to remove the article. The reluctant resignation in those eyes made Kuroo want to pick him up and hug him. "You realize you just jinxed yourself right? What if you get shot now?"

Kuroo shrugged. The fear from earlier that night had faded, now he had someone to watch out for. "We'll have to see."

A scoff, and a smile. Music to Kuroo's ears. "Geek."

They lingered on each other for a moment longer before Terushima's long suffering groan called them back to the land of the living.

"God, I can't believe that just happened!" Terushima said, baffled as he wiped his eyes.

"You giant moron, you scared him half to death," Futakuchi muttered, back to using Terushima's shoulder as a personal crutch. Neither of them minded much.

"Okay but see, I was totally right earlier," Yamamoto proclaimed, smile big and smug, a relief to Kuroo. Guess he wasn't completely scarred, or he wasn't showing it. He'd have to pull him aside and talk about it later.

Futakuchi squinted. "Huh? About what?"

Kuroo had a bad feeling about the words before they even left his mouth, but only Tsukishima's whisper of 'oh god' really prepared him for it.

Yamamoto coughed in disbelief. "Uh, the Snickers bar? I told you I needed that shit for energy, and it completely paid off. Who's selfish now? Not me."

The silence which enveloped the street made Kuroo wince, and thank god Suga did something about it.

The other seemed thoroughly done with everyone shit, and pointed towards the car like he was talking to a two year old. Accurate. "Just...just go over there please. I changed my mind, I can't look at you anymore."

"What?"

"Mm, speaking of, maybe we shouldn't be standing out here like this...." Terushima looked around, on guard and way more wary than before.

"Yeah, I'd hate to have a gun pointed at me three times in one night," Tsukishima said, smiling all the way as he walked to the car. Everyone gladly cleared his path.

He appraised their van, walking around to survey the tires and dents. Kuroo, as badass as he seemed (or thought himself to be in his little delivery car), knew shit about cars. Then again, who knew if Tsukishima knew shit about cars either. Point was, Kuroo trusted him, and he didn't question the way Tsukishima popped the hood and scrutinized every detail.

Man, how could he have missed a person like this?

He'd regret it everyday of his life.

"As banged up as this thing is, most of the damage is cosmetic," Tsukishima said, slamming the hood back down after a few minutes. He glanced towards Terushima, smirking. "Guess you didn't do a terrible job after all. This thing's still drivable."

Terushima grit his teeth. "You little--"

"That's great!" Suga said, way too cheerfully, and piled right back into the behemoth. "Now let's go before we uh, I don't know, get shot."

They all nodded ruefully, because well...they'd had enough of that nonsense.

As Terushima took a step towards the driver's door though, they all paused, looking to Tsukishima as the blond eyed the steering wheel.

The silent hope was there, searing, and even Terushima couldn't feel wounded over it. It had to be done.

Tsukishima tapped his chin, as if he was actually thinking it over, when they all knew damn well he'd already decided. Of course, a few moments later: "You know, maybe I should dr--"

And thus, before he could finish, the unanimous chorus ruled: "Please drive."

[shedreamsofstars]

Practice On Me

When Kyo finds boys bothering Tohru at school, he offers to teach her how to scare them away by practicing on him. But with Tohru's non-confrontational nature, interfering friends and his own blossoming feelings, teaching her to defend herself is more complicated than he expects.

...

Tohru was late for lunch.

Usually Kyo wouldn't have thought anything of it, but considering he was currently sat on the grass with her two best friends on either side of him and the smug rat across from him, he was sorely low on good company.

After spending the last five minutes arguing with Yuki and Uotani about who the best fighter was – not Yuki obviously – he needed there to be someone around who didn't live to mock him simply for breathing.

And besides, he couldn't help but be on edge when he couldn't see her. With an airhead like her, there was no end to the trouble that could befall her eternally smiling face. That particular thought annoyed him enough for him to glare at the school building behind them once again.

He had hoped to see her rushing towards them, her hair blowing frantically in the wind but just like all the other times he checked, Kyo was left dourly disappointed. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to the group, fisting the grass by his foot.

"What's with that face Carrots? You look like some girl just dumped your sorry ass. Does she go here, cause I'd love to thank her for your misery."

Kyo growled in annoyance. He knew that the blonde girl was just trying to get a rise out him, but that didn't change the fact that it worked.

Every. Time.

"Shut up! As if I'd ever do anything as stupid as fall in love, much less with anyone you know!"

"Not even with our sweet Tohru?"

Kyo felt Yuki's eyes snap to him, disregarding the book in his hand in favour of watching Uotani torture him. He growled in frustration, refusing to give the rat the courtesy of acknowledging him.

"Yes, our Tohru is very sweet indeed," Hanajima piped up, her dark hair blowing around her as if there was a wind dedicated specifically to her. "You would consider breaking her heart just to spite Arisa?"

"N-no, of course I wouldn't. N-not like it matters anyway," he stammered, the heat rising to his face at the thought of Tohru and him ever being close enough for him to be anywhere near her heart.

"It does if you have untoward intentions towards her."

"Hey, I'm not some pervert that you're glaring at me like that. Besides, shouldn't you be more concerned that Tohru isn't here yet. Why are you sat around picking a fight with me for?!"

"Huh, that's right. Miss Honda is unusually late…" Yuki pondered, closing his book to look towards the school with a puzzled expression.

Hanajima closed her eyes momentarily before snapping them open again. "Oh dear. I sense our dear Tohru may be in trouble."

"Miss Honda is in trouble?"

Kyo jumped to his feet. "If she is, then why are you all still sat here?!"

"She doesn't need us when she has an idiotic knight like you coming to save her," Uotani deadpanned.

"Whatever. Stay here if you want. I'm gonna go find her," he said as he turned to stalk towards the school building. He heard Yuki mutter something to the girls, but he couldn't care less. If they wanted to sit there and do nothing, then fine. He'd just help Tohru on his own.

Kyo stalked through the corridors with a stormy expression, brushing past anyone who dared to get in the way whilst he searched through empty classrooms. Luckily there weren't many students around, with most of them out in the sunshine eating lunch.

He'd almost made it to the end of a corridor when he heard them.

"Were your parents expecting a boy that they gave you a name like that? They must have been so disappointed when you were born."

"Oh, I … I don't think so but…"

Tohru. He'd know that voice anywhere.

He forced his feet to round the corner and found Tohru pressed up against the wall. Two boys he vaguely recognised stood in front of her, blocking her path.

No one had spotted him yet.

"Don't you think it's kinda weird that your name is so manly, but your face is so cute?"

Kyo didn't need to hear that line to know he'd heard enough.

"Hey Tohru!" he called, stretching his arms above his head. "These freaks bothering you?" He nodded towards the boys who immediately jumped away from her.

"Oh. Kyo-kun, what are you-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Kyo was standing between her and the boys. "I swear, if you two bastards hurt her I'll make you regret it!" The boys in question were cowering behind one another, realising too late that they had picked the wrong girl to tease.

"D-d-dude, r-relax! We didn't touch her," one of the boys called out, voice much higher than it had been before.

"Y-yeah, sorry man. We didn't realise she was your girlfriend."

Warmth bloomed in his cheeks and Kyo didn't know if it was from anger or from their assumption that he was dating Tohru. "Just get the hell out of here," he barked, not caring to correct their mistake.

They didn't need to be told twice. As the two boys raced down the corridor, Kyo felt a warm touch at his elbow. He turned to see Tohru watching him with a curious expression that lingered somewhere between surprise and confusion.

He pulled away and pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You're late for lunch!" He was about to add more when he noticed something off about her expression and reeled in his anger. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, I'm just hungry. Let's go eat."

Kyo reached for her hand to lead her outside, but they'd only made it a few steps before he stopped abruptly. Tohru was trembling. He looked at her, but she was steadfastly avoiding his gaze, the tell-tale sniffling giving away what she was trying so hard to hide.

It wasn't hard to figure out what was upsetting her.

'They must have been so disappointed when you were born.'

Kyo bit down a wave of anger at the two idiots he'd scared away – they'd pay for making Tohru cry – but for now, he had to make sure she was okay. Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he led her into an empty classroom and the girl followed without protest.

"Don't listen to those two freaks," he said as he slid the door shut behind them for privacy.

Tohru sniffed loudly, hastily wiping away her tears with her free hand. Kyo took an unsure step towards her, not knowing how to comfort her but wanting to try. She always put in the effort for everyone else after all.

"I'm sure your parents were thrilled when you were born." Kyo's mind flashed to images of his own parents but he shoved them so far down he'd doubted he'd ever see them again. Tohru's parents were nothing like his.

"You really think so?" she asked, voice small and thin.

"Of course. You're perfect, why wouldn't they be?" His heart stammered traitorously as he realised what he'd just said. He dropped her hand with an embarrassed grimace as he rushed to cover his mistake. "Perfectly normal, I mean. What else do people want from their kids, right?"

"I … I suppose you're right, Kyo-kun."

"Course I am you dork," he said, brushing the wetness from her cheeks with his thumb. He didn't let his fingers linger. "With all the crying you do, it's a wonder you still have any tears left."

A watery giggle escaped from Tohru.

"Alright, that's enough of those ridiculous thoughts now. Got that."

Tohru hummed in response, but she still had a faraway look in her eyes. Like she couldn't quite let go of the thought completely. Kyo bit the inside of his cheek, a question he'd always wanted to know the answer to burning on his tongue.

"Hey Tohru," he said softly. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Let people say whatever they want to you. Why don't you ever just tell anyone to stop when they're bothering you?" If that was him, he would have thrown fists after the first word. How could she just stand there and … take it?

Tohru cocked her head to the side as she considered her answer, but when she didn't speak for a long time Kyo wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have brought it up. It was her problem after all, not his.

Why did he even care?

"Look, don't worry about it. I get it," he said with a frown, shifting his gaze to the window. His eyes found the empty spot where the others were supposed to be, and the frown deepened. Great, now he was going to have to go looking for them too.

He turned to tell Tohru as much, but his words turned to dust on his tongue as he found her staring at him. She kept opening and closing her mouth as if she was trying to say something but couldn't get it out and Kyo couldn't help but laugh at how hard she was trying.

"Go easy on yourself, you're starting to turn into a fish. I already said I get it didn't I. You're just not really much for conflict." Some of her hair had escaped from her ribbon and he caught the loose strand between his fingers. He had intended to tuck it behind her ear but now he found he couldn't quite follow through.

"Not … much for … conflict?" she parroted, sounding unsure of herself as her eyes slid to where his hand twirled her hair absently. They were still red and glassy from the tears, and Kyo retracted his hand before he did something stupid like hug her.

His common sense had failed him too many times around her, and he didn't trust himself not to expose his secret to the entire school by accident. He took a step away from her with an awkward cough.

"It's fine, you don't need to fight anyone anyway. You already have the delinquent and wave girl to do that for you." He slid his gaze away from her. "And I'll always protect you too … for as long as I can."

An urgent tug on the front of his shirt had him looking down and coming face to face with Tohru again. He was close enough to make out all the dark flecks in her brown eyes. Close enough to memorise them.

He blinked the thought away.

"I made you worry didn't I?" she whispered, her breath brushing up against his neck. Something sparked down his spine, and as if suddenly realising just how dangerously close she was, Tohru took a tentative step back.

Her fist remained curled in his shirt though.

"Maybe … maybe I do worry about you when you're not around," he admitted bashfully, running a hand absently through his hair as he tried to look anywhere but at the girl holding on to him. "But only a little so don't get all worked up about it or anything."

Tohru's grip on his shirt tightened.

"Hey, go easy would you," he said gruffly, noticing how pale her fingers were from holding on so forcefully. At this point, he wasn't sure he could convince her to let go if he tried. Which he didn't.

"I'm sorry for making you worry Kyo-kun."

"Why? It's not like you're forcing me to or anything. It's my problem, not yours." When was this girl going to get that not everything was her fault? She really didn't need to spend every other breath apologising for just existing.

"But I am sorry. I don't ever want to be a burden on you … or anyone."

Oh god, was she going to start crying again. Kyo sighed in defeat as he pulled out a chair and gently pushed the girl down into it. When she didn't let go of his shirt, he pulled one out for himself across from her, close enough for her to keep clinging on to him.

"You're not a burden, not now and not ever." Tohru bit her bottom lip. "But if you're really serious about it, then how about I teach you how to at least tell people to leave you alone?"

"Oh, I am serious. I really am," Tohru said brightening up a little. She finally released his shirt, and Kyo felt the loss of her touch keenly. The part of his chest her hand had rested against was suddenly too cold.

"You can practice on me if you want," he said a little distractedly, straightening out his shirt.

"Okay. What do I need to do?" she asked, clasping both of her hands in front of her as she awaited further instruction.

"Well, you start by looking at whoever's bothering you dead in the eye."

Tohru looked at him with a soft smile on her face and Kyo felt the tips of his ears start to burn. "You need to look menacing, not like you're about to offer them rice balls," he stated plainly.

The girl blinked and her eyes clouded over a little as if in a daze, the rest of her face going slack. "How's this?"

Kyo let his head drop to the table with a dramatic thud. "Terrible," he grumbled into the wood. She looked like she didn't have a single thought in her head, but that was probably the best he was going to get he conceded.

"It's that bad?"

"No, it's fine," he said, sitting up again. "Now you just gotta say 'leave me alone'."

Tohru nodded emphatically, taking in a deep breath before attempting it.

"Leave … me alone?"

Kyo blinked hard at her weak tone, trying to figure out if she was pulling his leg.

"What did you think? Will I scare them away?"

She wasn't.

"Don't pause in the middle," he growled. "And why are you making it sound like a question?" Kyo splayed his fingers over his face, covering his eyes as he realised how hard this was going to be.

"Should I try it again?" she asked brightly, and he shifted his fingers enough to see that she wore her usual smile again. He nodded and Tohru schooled her face into blankness once more. "Leave me alone."

"That was better. Not great, but … definitely better." Kyo leaned against the table beside him, using his arm to prop his head up. At this rate he was going to end up spending the entire lunch break here. Which, now that he considered it, wasn't really the worst pastime if he got to spend it with this girl.

A rustling sound caught his attention and he noticed Tohru's gaze had shifted to something in her lap. The picture of her mother sat nestled in her hands, small yet just as powerful as the real thing.

Tohru didn't say anything as she looked at it, and Kyo chose to leave her to her thoughts. Besides, it wasn't often that he got the chance to look at Tohru without someone noticing and laughing at his expense later.

It might have been a slip of the tongue earlier, but what he'd said had been true. Tohru really was perfect. He couldn't quite place why, but she was. Even with all the parts about her that frustrated him to no end.

With her eyes still on the picture, Tohru reached a hand out in Kyo's direction. At first he thought she was going to cling to his shirt again, but her fingers only skimmed his chest before sliding down his arm and resting on his Juzu Bracelet.

"Hey, what are you-"

His words stopped short when she looked up at him, her eyes bright with a determination that set his heart rate soaring.

"Kyo-kun! I want to try again!"

"Okay," he murmured softly, his eyes drifting to where her fingers pressed against the beads. His nerves flickered at the touch, reminding him what would happen if it broke, but he tamped it down. Tohru knew their significance. She would never risk breaking them. "Okay, try it again." Tohru nodded emphatically before taking in a deep breath and releasing his bracelet.

"Leave me alone!"

The silence between them stretched out as Kyo's jaw fell slack at the strength and sincerity in her voice. Tohru was undoubtedly channelling Kyoko's energy and he momentarily forgot that she was just repeating words he'd asked her say - feeling a sharp sting of pain in his chest as if she were truly telling him to leave.

"Um, Kyo-kun … why do you look so upset?" Tohru said, her voice back to its usual honeyed tone.

Kyo let out an involuntary chuckle. "You looked so serious. For a second there, I really thought …" he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"Oh no, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine Tohru!" he interjected, cutting the girl off before he lost her in her swathes of guilt. "It's great actually. Next time someone bothers you, make sure you say it to them just like that. Got it?"

"Got it," she repeated, sounding perkier by the second.

"Good. You wanna try it one more time? Just so I know it wasn't a fluke."

"Of course, but you better be ready because I'm going to blow you away," Tohru said with a bright smile.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled. "Just hit me with it will you."

"Hmm," Tohru hummed in response before her face went blank again. "Leave me alone!" she shouted, less forcefully than before but just as impactful.

"Hey Carrots!" Kyo nearly jumped out of his skin as Uotani strode into the room, fixing him with a purposeful glare. "Are you bothering Tohru?"

"What?!" he cried, jumping to his feet and putting some distance between himself and Tohru. How had he not heard the door slide open? "Of course I aint," he growled in irritation as the blonde-haired girl stood much too close for comfort. He was suddenly extremely grateful for the fact that there was currently a desk between the two of them.

"Are you seriously trying to put the moves on her at school? You really are shameless."

"That wasn't what it sounded like!" Kyo protested, waving his arms about wildly. "Tell her Tohru."

"Yeah Tohru. Why don't you tell me exactly how Kyon here was blatantly flirting with you and making you so uncomfortable you had to yell at him," Uotani said sweetly.

"Quit putting words in her mouth!" Kyo yelled, noticing that Tohru had gone beet red. She opened her mouth to speak but only managed to stutter helplessly. It was so disgustingly cute, he didn't even care that she wasn't defending him.

"I don't need to put words in her mouth, her face says it all you dirty perv!"

"Why don't you do everyone a favour and leave, you damn delinquent. Things were much more peaceful in here before you showed up!"

"You want me to leave you alone so you can pull more than your moves on poor innocent Tohru? I don't think so."

"Oh for god's sake, I didn't try to pull anything! Just ask her," Kyo said, pointing at Hanajima who was fussing about Tohru like a mother hen. "She can use her weird powers or whatever and prove I didn't do anything."

Uotani raised a single eyebrow as if she might argue, but then turned to the dark-haired girl. "Hanajima, the verdict if you please."

"Guilty," Hanajima replied, not missing a beat.

"What! You didn't even look like you used your waves," Kyo groaned hopelessly. There was no way he was going to convince Tohru's staunch protectors of anything.

"I didn't need to; I already know I'm hungry."

"That's not what you were supposed to be judging," he said, dropping his head into his hands in exasperation. These two certainly were an annoyance, but at least he could count himself lucky in that the rat hadn't found them yet. In fact, it was probably a good idea to get out of here before Yuki showed up and made things even worse with his face.

He turned to Tohru who still seemed to be mumbling something to herself. "You should eat something while you still can, lunch is almost over. I'm leaving." And with that he headed for the door.

"Kyo-kun, wait!" Tohru called after him, suddenly regaining control of her voice as she caught up to him in the hallway. "I … I … thank you. For helping me today."

Kyo glanced over her shoulder to see that Uotani and Hanajima were still hovering in the classroom before letting a small smile slip onto his face. "Don't worry about it," he replied, resisting the urge to tap his knuckles against the side of her head whilst her friends were staring at them. "Just don't let the lesson go to waste."

"I won't, I promise," she said warmly. "I'll see you at home later?"

Kyo wasn't sure why, but his smile widened a fraction.

"Yeah, I'll see you at home."

[sehunsmuabrows]

Conflict of interest // Kim Junmyeon

Pairing: CEO! Junmyeon x Chairman! reader (feat. Kyungsoo)

Genre: Fluff -ish, angst

Words: 2,165

Summary: You’ve spent your whole life preparing to enter the business world. Through blood, sweat, tears, and a little bit of nepotism, you land the stable yet stressful job of Chairman of the board at a large technology company. Your career means everything to you, but its all put at risk in the hands of the love of your life, his father, and a greedy politician.  

Part I | Part II 

You wake up confused, head laying on a pile of folders. Your office was dark and silent, you assumed everyone must have left, since it was much quieter than usual. The digital clock on your desk told you that it was 1:37 AM. You slightly regretted sending your secretary home early, since he would have made sure you left the building. You stopped regretting once you remembered exactly why you were avoiding going home today. You scrunch your nose in disgust remembering that your new parentally mandated boy toy was going to be hanging around for a while. Your parents had been pushing for you to get married for years now, setting you up with various successful bachelors, but they all ended up thinking you were a stuck up prude and walking out, not that you minded. You jumped in your seat after hearing a sudden voice.

“How was your nap?” Junmyeon said from the seat right across the room, his face only slightly illuminated by the brightness of his phone as he scrolled through it. How long had he been sitting there? You clutched your heart trying to recover from the sudden appearance.  

“When did you get here?” you asked, standing and walking towards Junmyeon, who still hasn’t looked up from his phone.  

“A little while ago, I heard you mom bragging to mine about how she found some politician for you and that it was going well between you, so I figured that you’d be cooped up in here all night”  He smiled mischievously, he knew exactly what was going on with you. You sighed loudly and nodded, before you could say anything Junmyeon’s phone was in your face. “So this is him? Seems a little boring”   

His screen was on Kyungsoo’s Instagram, where there were mostly pictures of him with other political figures, other people’s dogs, and books.

“I wouldn’t know, I never had a full conversation with him, but according to my parents we’re basically engaged” You shook your head, thinking about how adamant they had been that he was the one.

Junmyeon grunted, clearly irritated about the idea of you being engaged to someone else. You raised an eyebrow at him, brushing off his irritation.

“Good thing i’m an adult and they cant make me do anything. But one day we’re going to have to tell our parents about us” You moved back to your desk to collect your things and re organize your desk.

“I know, we’ll have to eventually, but you know how my dad is. Everytime he talks to you I get scared out of my mind, he hates you.”  you nod at his words, you knew that much, his dad has disliked you since first met him. Junmyeon and you were in rival schools in highschool, you were neck and neck in every category. And for you it was debate. Junmyeon’s dad had come to watch him debate, since it was the city championships. But he was unlucky enough to be challenged by you. Junmyeon lost, mostly because you had better arguments, and partly because he was more than a little attracted to you and got distracted from his central points. Later on, your father had become a major shareholder and Junmyeon’s family company, and when he retired, you took his place as chairman of the board. Before Junmyeon had become the CEO, you worked with his father for a few years, getting into a relationship with his son (secretly, of course) sometime around that time. You clashed with him countless times when he was CEO, over staffing, promotional tactics, day to day operations, the fight never ended. He probably wished you were dead at some point because of how many plans of his you had blocked from moving forward. You chuckled, thinking back on how things were. Once you had your bag organized and ready to get home, you walked back towards Junmyeon slowly, watching as his breath hitched. You made him nervous. Well, you made everyone nervous but he was extra fun to mess with.

You grabbed his tie, straightening it out and tightening it,  “I don’t mind a little conflict, you don’t have to worry about me.”  

You weren’t very fond of Junmyeon’s dad, in fact he was your arch nemesis at some point. But after getting serious with Junmyeon you realized that if you ever wanted a future with him, you needed to have a better relationship with his dad. But five years flew past, and your relationship was just as good as it had started. You knew that he valued his relationship with his father and you didn’t want to cause an issue, so you left the idea alone.  

You felt his finger push your chin up, urging you to look into his eyes. “I want to go public and all, but I just don’t know what he would do, he can be really shady sometimes.” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, wondering if he forgot who you are.  

“It’s too late at night for this, I should head home, do you have work left?” you said flippantly, ignoring his previous statement. Junmyeon seemed okay with it, almost relieved.

“Nope, I was waiting in here to give you a ride home”  

“I have a car”  

“I know but I wanted to give you a ride”

“But then how would I get-”

“I’ll pick you up in the morning too”  He smiled slightly, before grabbing your purse out of your hand and tugging you out of the room. You realized that he wouldn’t give up on driving you, so you just went with it. There were a few employees left in the building so you kept a safe professional distance between the two of you the whole walk to his car. He drove a strangely modest car for someone who makes 3 million dollars a year. He grew up wealthy, surrounded by nothing less than the most luxurious items anyone could ask for, but here he was driving around in a light blue Honda civic.  

You were a bit of a car person, so his choice of vehicle baffled you. But you had to admit that his car was better for sneaking around than your Aston martin One-77. You hopped into the passenger's seat of his car, you immediately started collecting the trash from around your seat, storing it in one of the plastic bags that you had left in his glove compartment for this reason. Junmyeon drove out of the parking lot, heading into the opposite direction of your house. You looked at him incredulously, it was much too late at night for him to play these games with you.

“Junmyeon, turn around, my house is the other way.” You said sternly, wanting nothing more than to sink into your bed and isolate yourself. You felt a little bad for being so irritable with him, but your parents were being even more imposing than usual, and you had no outlet for your anger.

Junmyeon shot you a look from the corner of his eyes, “I overheard your mother saying that Kyungsoo was going to surprise you when you got back to your place, so we’re going to mine.” you rolled your eyes so dramatically that it hurt. Kyungsoo had been showing up almost everywhere you went for about two weeks, and you were positive that your mother bribed your secretary into giving up your schedule. But you didn’t think that he would wait in front of your door for 6 hours.    

“He’s not going to be there, trust me, I was supposed to leave work hours ago. ” You told him, urging him to turn the car around. Eventually, you convinced him that Kyungsoo was much to busy and important to be waiting for you to get home at 2 am and he drove you back home.  You noticed that Junmyeon was getting really antsy as he pulled into your driveway. Looking back and forth between you and the front door of your house subtly. You cracked a smile, almost laughing at his coy act.  

“Would you like to sleep over?”  you asked playfully, despite already knowing the answer. He quickly turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt.

“Yes, please” He responded sheepishly, facing towards you again. You failed to hide your smile, feeling especially infatuated with him at the moment.

You stepped out of the car, instantly remembering the six inch heals that had been killing your feet all day. Your smile faded quickly as you hustled to the front door, digging out the keys from your bag. You fumbled with the key, getting more and more irritated by the millisecond. Junmyeon grabbed your hand and put the key into the lock, making you realize that you had been shaking.

When the door was unlocked, you felt yourself be lifted from the ground bridal style. Junmyeon kicked the door shut with his foot, making a large thumping sound. He set you down onto the couch, kneeling in front of you to take your shoes off, but you moved them away.

“I can take them off myself, just get ready for bed” you shook him off, prying off your shoes yourself, throwing them at near the front door, where your all of your other shoes were stationed. Junmyeon simply shook his head, leaning towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before you heard an abrupt cough from the other side of the room.

You turned your head towards the voice in shock, almost hurting your neck with the sudden movement. Kyungsoo was sitting at the coffee table across the room, staring at you with an unreadable expression.  

Junmyeon stood up abruptly, angry that the man had made his way into your home without a welcome. You tugged him back as quickly as he stood, trying to contain the situation as best as you could. “I see the rumors were true, how scandalous” Kyungsoo crooned as he stood up, folding the paper that he had in his hand. His mouth twisted into a smile as he walked towards you both. It took a significant amount of strength and effort to hold Junmyeon back.

“What the fuck are you doing inside this house?” Junmyeon seethed at him

“I was invited and encouraged to wait here as long as possible, her mom gave me a key” he said smugly, irritating you in more ways than one.

“I appreciate your… diligence, but as you can see, me and Mr. Kim are preoccupied and I would appreciate your discretion, so could you please leave?” You said as professionally as you possibly could.

“And why would you possibly need me to keep my mouth shut? You’re both adults, nothing illegal here” He shrugged, maintaining his smug expression, as if he already knew.

“Shut up and go dude, it’s none of your business” Junmyeon snapped at him, but Kyungsoo was unfazed.

“Is it because your daddy wouldn’t like it? Or because you want to stay on the market a little longer?” He faced Junmyeon this time, ignoring his previous statement. His words stung. You would be lying if you said the thought hadn’t occurred to you. You had been dating for 5 years, and you were still his little secret. Sometimes you wondered if you were the aspect of his teenage rebellion that he just forgot to let go of. Even so, you tried to be understanding.  The hurt must have been clear on your face, since Junmyeon became very apprehensive, reaching out to your shoulder. You flinched away from his hand without realizing.

“I guess I hit a nerve” Kyungsoo chuckled, looking at your glossy eyes.

“You little sh-”

“Get out, both of you. This is my house, in case you forgot.” Kyungsoo strode to the door swiftly before turning back towards Junmyeon, who hadn’t left your side.  

“I recommend you sort yourself Mr. Kim, I have a feeling you won’t get to waste her time for much longer” His words felt like a punch to the stomach.  you watched him walk out of the front door silently. After he left, Junmyeon was in panic, ruffling his hair and pacing around your living room as if it was his own. The whole situation hurt your pride and you wanted nothing more than to run away at that moment.

“I thought I told you to leave.” Your words came out harsher than you expected. Junmyeon turned back to you, surprised at your tone.

“What?”  

“I want to be alone tonight, I’ll see you at work tomorrow” You shrugged, walking toward the stairs that lead to your bedroom. You were expecting Junmyeon to question you, but he left it alone. You heard the door slam shut as you walked up the stairs, letting you know that he was gone, and for once you were grateful for that.  

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