#a few minutes later the patient is frantically pressing the call button which we leave in their hand

[inusmasha]

Me rn just getting home from work which was constantly on the verge of becoming an absolute shitshow if I wasn’t there to b fucking psychic and predict shit hitting the fan before shit in fact hit the fan but then… shit literally hit the fan

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Love Across Dimensions (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

Carlisle turned the corner to have one of the nurses, hurry towards him. “Dr Cullen, a moment?”  “Of course, Miranda and i told you to call me Carlisle.” Carlisle smiled. Miranda smiled momentarily before going straight to business. “We had a new admitted patient with a referral for a psychiatric evaluation but we have no one to do it.”  “Oh but i can’t be of much use, i’m not officially trained in that field. I couldn’t evaluate them adequately.” Not entirely a lie, his credentials in that field had most definitely expired many years ago.  “I know, but we’re so short of staff you’re the only one who could. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.” Carlisle thought for a moment before sighing. “Very well, I’ll do my best.”  “Great!” Miranda said in relief. “I’ll give you the run down.” The patient was taken in by the police after a call from a very distressed couple who found the patient in their house. The patient believes the two are their parents but the couple insisted they have no children and had never seen the patient before.The patient showed no sign of violence and was compliant but insists the couple are their parents. The patients name is (Y/N) and refused to provide their last name after some confrontation with the police. It was peculiar but not to bad of a case. The patient hasn’t showed any sign of aggression which Carlisle was able to deem them not a threat but only the meeting would tell.

When Carlisle opened the door, he was met with your gaze and he immediately pieced together how he’d approach you. You looked confused and even shocked. You seemed to have grown frightened in the time you had been admitted.  “Hello, (Y/N). My name is Doctor Cullen. I’ve been asked to check up on you, would you mind having a chat with me?”  “Cullen? Is your first name Carlisle?” Carlisle looked slightly surprised but fought it back. “Yes, do we know each other? I don’t recognise you.” You looked panicked and even more upset. Carlisle was eager to settle you again. “Everything is alright, lets have a chat. I understand you’ve had a rather strange day.”  “You don’t know half of it.” You mumbled against your tears you didn’t let fall. Carlisle took a seat and turned to Miranda who stood at the door. “Thank you, Miranda. I’ll take it from here.” The woman nodded before leaving, closing the door behind her. 

“I want you to know this is a safe space. We’re going to figure out what happened today alright?”  “I’m not crazy.” You shook your head.  “Of course you’re not.” Carlisle looked up at you, pausing from his note taking.  “I need your help.” You whispered.  “That’s why i’m here. You’re going to be fine. I’m going to help you in any way i can.”  “If I talk to you...could you promise me you’ll help me?”  “You have my word.” You took a breath, fighting back more tears. “I know everything Carlisle. I know what you are.” 

You sat and relayed everything you knew and how you knew it. Carlisle’s expression became unreadable. “I went there because that’s my home or it was but they don’t know who i am. Then i was taken to Forks hospital and you’re here and...I don’t know how i got here. This...this isn’t my world, this isn’t real! Carlisle, please, you have to believe me!” He did, your story was impossible but you weren’t lying and how else could you know such things? 

You wiped your eyes and suddenly Carlisle took your wrists, leaning forward.  “Listen, stay here. I’m going to sort this out alright? I’ll get you discharged and make something up for the police. Don’t say anything else, alright and tell no one else about this.” You nodded, slightly relieved but not entirely sure if this would be much help. 

An hour later he returned handing you a bottle of pills. “Hold this, don’t take them. I’m about to get the discharge papers now. I’ll be a few minutes.” Just as promised he was only a few minutes, frantically writing on them.  “What’s happening?” You whispered.  “The story is, you know me because i treated your father. Your parents have called you mid evaluation, looking for you and concerned you’re off your medication. They then requested that i take you home which i have accepted because my shift is over. I got someone to call in as your ‘parent’. Therefore I've discharged you knowing you’re in good care and have given you some new medication to take.”  “Okay...then where are you taking me actually?”  “To my home. I don’t know how you know the things you do, but it’s certainly not something that can be made up.” That was ironic considering the whole saga was a story and most definitely made up. However, you had no time to think of it.  “Sign this.” He said hurriedly.  “Is this going to work? I don’t think I exist here.”  “We’ll be long gone before anyone can figure that out. Besides, you’re out of state, the nurses might shrug it off.”  “Carlisle, i’m not out of state i’m out of dimension. That’s a big difference.” 

You probably should have anticipated the oncoming interrogation from the Cullen’s but you didn’t. It seemed the only ones who gave you an easier time about it was Carlisle and Esme. You told them everything and relayed their back stories. Then the grew quiet which was unnerving. Finally Carlisle spoke up. “I think it’d be worthwhile going to the Volturi.”  “Say what now?” You gawked.  “Aro, Marcus and Caius may have studied something like this before.”  “They also may laugh and backhand my head off my shoulders.”  “They aren’t wrong.” Emmett agreed. “We’re still not necessarily in good terms with them either.”  “Were we ever?” Jasper chided. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head. Edward cracked a smile.  “It’s important we keep communications open.” Esme began. “If we act poorly towards them then tensions will only get worse.”  “They’ll kill me.” you said quietly. “I’m against the law.”  “You’re beyond the law.” Edward spoke up, looking at you. You turned around to look at him. “You aren’t just a human that knows, you’re a human from another time, or place, a place where we aren’t real.”  “They’ll want to know about them.” Rosalie added. You sighed. “I’m not going to get a choice in this, am I?” 

Carlisle and Edward took you to Italy the next day and the longer the plane journey, the more stressed you became. Carlisle would have tried to ease your worries but truth be told, he didn’t know how this would go. So he said nothing. 

You crossed your arms tightly under your ribs, nervous as you stood waiting in reception.  “Sit down.” Carlisle said quietly. You shook your head. “I can’t.” Fear wracked your body. Two tall guards turned the corner, lowering their hoods. One was blonde and the other was a brunette. You knew immediately who they were.  “Demetri and Felix.” You breathed to yourself, pacing. The two looked at you, hearing their names and watching you pace behind Carlisle and Edward.  “Another one? Again? Really?” Felix said pointedly.  “It’s not what you think.” Carlisle responded.  “Every scenario you’re thinking is very wrong.” Edward said flatly looking between the two guards. “We need to see Aro. He’ll want to see them.” Demetri looked beyond Edward to you and tilted his head. “Very well.”  “Don’t disappoint us.” Felix smirked. 

Felix was first to step in the elevator and then Edward and Carlisle. Demetri held the elevator door open looking back at you and nodding for you to go in.  “Come on, (Y/N).” Carlisle said reassuringly. “Take a breath.”  “I think i’m going to faint.” You said quietly, stepping inside.  “You just might, your heart is beating very fast.” Edward responded.  “Come on, slow it down.” Carlisle rubbed your back as Demetri entered beside you and pressed a button as the doors closed.  “If they faint, i get to feed on them.” Felix smirked. Your eyes widened.  “Was that supposed to help?” Edward shot Felix a dirty look.  “No.” Felix grinned. “They faint and i get to eat.”  “Perhaps it’s more incentive not to faint.” Demetri chimed in. You did your best to slow your breathing. “No one is feeding on me.” You said lowly. Demetri’s head turned to you, eyes piercing but you didn’t look at him. You kept your gaze straight forward. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, sweetheart.”  “No, i’m just reminding myself of the time Jasper slapped you across the face and Edward tackled Felix. That helps a lot.” Demetri looked surprised as did Felix. “How do you know about that?” You turned your gaze to Demetri. “You’ll find out.” You lowered your gaze to the floor. Felix chuckled. “It’s been five minutes and i like this one already. This kid will be an interesting one.”  “Demetri certainly agrees.” Edward growled slightly. 

Aro slowly raised to a stand. “Carlisle my friend! Edward too and who is this?”  “Another human.” Caius spat. “We had hoped you didn’t intend to make this a habit!”  “It’s not like that, i can promise you.” Carlisle responded. “Indeed, you could, but you could also show me.” Aro glided down the steps hand outstretched and Carlisle moved to meet him, his own hand out. Aro’s gaze snapped to you. “Remarkable.”  “What is it?” Caius asked.  “You, my dear, are awfully far from home aren’t you?” Aro glided to you, his gaze never faltering you.  “Yes.” Your voice quivered.  “How did you get here, my dear?”  “I don’t know.”  “Would you do me the honour?” Aro raised his hand ans slowly, you placed your shaking hand in his. “You know...everything.” Aro’s eyes suddenly flashed and you knew immediately what he had just discovered. ‘I know your secret.’ You thought to yourself knowing he’d hear it. Aro straightened dropping your hand. “This human, is not from our world. Where they are from, we are fictional characters from a book which in turn was adapted into films.”  “Excuse me?” Caius looked shocked and you even gained Marcus’ attention.  “You tried to go home.” Aro said.  “Yes, but my parents here in this world never had children and didn’t know me. They did have a dog though. The dog has the same name as me.” You frowned slightly.  “This is impossible! This is madness!” Caius shouted.  “You know everything but seemingly everyone.” Aro stared into your eyes. “Even things you couldn’t possibly know.”  “I just want to go home.” You whispered pleadingly.  “They’re a liability!” Caius said.  “I just tried to go home and ended up being arrested and given a psych evaluation, no one will be believing me even if i did say anything.” You reasoned. Carlisle nodded. “It’s true, it wouldn’t be in their interest to do so.”  “They’re telling the truth.” Aro mused, continuing to stare at you.  “I hoped that perhaps you’d know anything about how this could happen.” Carlisle said.  “i’ve never heard of this before, but im sure we must have some books mentioning this.” Aro hummed. “Perhaps if we looked into it we could ask for you assistance, dear friend?” Aro asked, looking at Carlisle. Carlisle nodded. “Certainly.”  “I insist our new friend and yourself stay as we investigate this.”  You knew this was coming. Aro wouldn’t let you leave, not when you know everything you do. You looked to Carlisle.  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, what do you think?” Carlisle looked to you. You looked back at Aro who stared you down. You slowly nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”  “Excellent!” Aro suddenly lit up. “How exciting! Demetri, I trust you could show (Y/N) to one of our guest bedrooms?” Demetri nodded. “This way.” 

A few weeks passed and you were friends with Demetri and Felix, spending just about all of your time with them when they weren’t on duty. You and Demetri were by far the closest though. So much so you couldn’t even consider him a friend anymore, he meant so much more than any friend ever could but you couldn’t tell him that. You didn’t know when it happened but it did. 

You should have known better your time in the castle wouldn’t be so pleasant. Aro cornered you, no doubt Marcus had told him of your growing bond with Demetri. After all, he’d have been the first to see it. You gasped as his cold hand wrapped around your neck. His red eyes pierced into yours. “I trust that you will have enough sense to know you should mind others privacy. Some have pasts they’d like to keep there and i’d hate to think what would happen if they weren’t.” You shook in terror before Aro smirked. “Just a gentle reminder, dear.” Just as quick has he had arrived, he was gone and you slumped to the floor, trembling with fear. It was ironic that he warned you to mind everyone’s privacy considering his gift but you knew that wasn’t the actual message. He was threatening you to keep his secret about Didyme. 

Demetri found you cuddled up in a blanket in one of the sitting areas of the castle. “There you are.” He smiled slightly. “What has you so quiet?” He sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you. You didn’t answer and he nudged you. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He pulled you closer. You fought back tears. “Do you know why Aro kept me here?”  “I can guess. My guess is that there is an important reason you’re here, like you know something you shouldn’t.” You fought back tears and Demetri noticed and hushed you. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s alright.” He squeezed you slightly. “You know i wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, right?” You appreciated the sentiment but you were doubtful that Demetri could do much against Aro. Regardless you let him comfort you. 

Demetri was a good distraction when he wanted to be. You caught sight of a painting hanging on the wall and it pulled you to a stop. Demetri noticed. “What?” He cracked a smile in amusement. ”I don’t think I've noticed this one before, its...beautiful.” You noticed Demetri’s gaze fixed on you. ”It’s beautiful.” He finally said.  “The painting?”  “No. The way you see the world.” Demetri moved closer. “The world got boring a long time ago for me, dull and ...all the same.” He sighed. “Somehow you change that, watching you take in the world, it’s refreshing. The world isn’t so boring.” 

After another week or so Carlisle approached you with an update. “Our most probable lead is dimension and with that we’re discovering portals. We should know soon how this happened and if we can reverse it.” You smiled and hugged Carlisle. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Carlisle smiled. “I’m not making any promises but this time we feel confident that this is our answer.” You were so excited that you told everyone who passed you that you could be going home. 

Demetri tried to be happy for you, but he couldn’t help but be saddened deep down. He’d never see you again. You meant so much to him as of lately that he had almost forgotten you’d be leaving some day. You’d be gone without a trace just as you had arrived.  “Demetri? Demetri...?” He looked over to see you look up at him with concern.  “Are you okay?” Demetri smiled slightly. “Yes, i’m just thinking sweetheart.”  “Oh? About what?” You smiled back. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.” Your smile faltered slightly. “I’ll miss you.”  “From what I hear, you can see me any time you want.” Demetri teased. “You’ll just be a memory for me.”  “Sure but it wont be the same. You wouldn’t know i was watching. Maybe in that way, i’ve always been here.”  “That’s a very nice thought, dear.” Demetri smiled at you, taking in every inch of your face.  “Don’t worry Demetri. It’ll be okay. You’ll go on without me and you’ll be great.”  “I think i know what i’ll miss the most.” Demetri stepped closer.  “Having a bad-ass human sidekick?” You grinned and he chuckled.  “The way you look at me.” He said softly, stroking your cheek. “No one has ever looked at me the way you do.” 

Demetri and the twins arrived at your room stating you were being summoned. They took you to the throne room, the three leaders expressions blank whilst Carlisle’s expression was somber. Your smile vanished.”What?” You said quietly. “What’s wrong?” You looked over your shoulder. Demetri was still behind you and the twins were now at the other side of the room. You looked back at them and Carlisle finally descended the stairs. “I need you to listen to everything i have to say.”  “Carlisle...what is it?” You felt your stomach drop.  “So dimensions are a probability and seem the most likely and sometimes these dimensions connect. We’d call them portals but they...only occur under specific, rare conditions like, temperature, time, place, events. These conditions are only likely every a thousand years at least.”  “But how did i get here then?”  “It is completely random, you could have been somewhere at the perfect place and perfect time and it took you here, a completely random dimension.” Carlisle explained. “Alright, so what do we do to make it happen?” You said hurriedly. Carlisle looked at you in sympathy. “(Y/N), we can’t. They can’t be manipulated like that. They just happen. Your only option is to wait a thousand years and hope that you’ll be there when it happens.” You felt tears build up. “You’ll be dead by then and even so we can’t change you and let you go back as a vampire.”  “No.” You shook your head. “No, you can’t. You have to figure out a way to send me back! Please! Please, Carlisle! I don’t belong here! I have to go back.”  “(Y/N)...” Demetri said quietly as your tears spilled over.  “Please! We can figure something out and-”  “(Y/N)...” Carlisle moved closer. You covered your face slightly to hide your pain. “-and we can take me home.” You sobbed.  “I would if i could, but it’s completely random, no one really knows anything for sure on them. They’re so rare and i’m so sorry. There is nothing we can do.” You covered your mouth, looking past you tears at the Volturi leaders, the twins, Carlisle and finally Demetri and Felix.  “(Y/N), we’re so sorry.” You heard Demetri say behind you. Another sob escaped you and you turned running out the room.  “(Y/N)!” You heard someone call out for you but you kept running. 

“I’ll go get them.” Demetri and Felix said in unison before the two gave each other a nod and chased after you.  “They’re outside, around the corner.” Demetri said to Felix. 

The two found you hugging your knees on the ground.  “Hey kid, breathe.” Felix said as he and Demetri crouched down to your level.  “Please just leave me alone, you don’t need to do this.” You said through tears.  “Yes we do, sweetheart.” Demetri took your hand. “Everything is going to be okay.” You shook your head, covering your face.  “We’re here for you and we love you.” Felix said.  “Please don’t say that, please just go away. I need to think...please.” Felix and Demetri looked at each other for a moment before nodding.  “Come back when you’re ready.” Demetri squeezed your hand lightly before the two got up and headed back inside.

Half an hour passed and Demetri and Felix waited outside the throne room doors. The twins came out of the room.  “Is (Y/N) alright?” Alec asked.  “They’re upset right now. I think they just need some time.” Felix nodded to Alec. The four looked up to hear you coming towards them and after a few moments you came into sight. You offered the four a weak smile before stepping in the middle of them to get into the throne room. 

Carlisle immediately met you halfway.  “So i know I've dragged you into this and dragged the Volturi into this so now that we know nothing can be done. I think it’s best that i leave so i’m not bothering any of you anymore. I’ll, uhm, come up with something and start a new life.”  “No.” Aro said simply.  “No, (Y/N).” Carlisle shook his head, his tone softer.  “No, it’ll be fine. I promise.”  “No.” Aro was beside Carlisle in seconds. You looked at Aro for a moment. “I know you’re concerned about your laws but i haven't had the intention of telling and and i don’t have the intention now.”  “I don’t care.” Aro responded. Marcus rose to a stand. “It would be in no ones best interest for you to leave.” He began. “You’ve made many important ties.”  “I don’t want to argue about this and i know you probably feel sorry for me right now.” You began but were cut off. “Good because we’re not arguing. You’re not going anywhere.” Carlisle said. Marcus’ gaze shifted to Demetri and nodded to him. You turned your head to Demetri. “Don’t go. You’re one of us. Human or not. We can’t let you leave. Our secret isn’t the only reason.” Demetri stepped forward “Then why?” You asked quietly. “You’ll know why soon. I promise.” 

That night you were curled up on the couch with a blanket, staring into the fire. You felt lost and alone, like nothing. As though your whole existence just shattered and you were a ghost. Everyone had their place of belonging ...everyone but you.  “You’re in my seat.” Demetri smirked walking around the seat to make eye contact with you after hearing the door shut. You gave him a small smile but a sad one since your eyes held only sadness. Demetri stepped forward, scooping you up into his arms and sitting in your previous spot and setting you close beside him, making you lean into him. Your legs were situated over his lap as he fixed the blanket around your shoulders.  “Tell me what you’re thinking about, pretty eyes.” He looked at you, trailing his fingertips up and down the length of your knee.  “If i don’t exist in this world, and i can’t get back to my life then, what’s the point? What’s the point in me? I’m not real, i’m not supposed to be here. I feel sad and alone...and pointless.”  “Look at me.” Demetri leaned in close to you. “I care about you. I always will. You mean so much to me. I can feel you. You might not be from here but you’re real and haven’t lost any significance. You mean the world to me. How can someone have such an effect on me if they aren’t real? It’s alright to be sad. You’re not alone and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Demetri’s eyes flickered to your lips before back up to your eyes. “If that isn’t enough...” You inhaled sharply as Demetri pulled you in by the back of your head and kissed you. He tilted his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close to him as he kissed you. He pulled you in even closer as you kissed him back, your hand rising to his jaw. He broke the kiss momentarily to whisper something to you before quickly meeting your lips once more. “I love you.” 

It took some time for you to be comfortable with staying in this world, as long as you had Demetri, it didn’t seem so scary. It had been three months since you had arrived and you were now enjoying every second. Demetri had just finished his shift, Afton taking over for him and he was immediately on the hunt for you.

”That is rude, Alec!” You laughed. “You know i can’t reach that!” Alec snickered as Jane smirked.  “Looks like you’ll need to climb up and get it.” Jane said.  “You two better not climb up and grab it before i reach it again.” You grinned. Suddenly, you turned your head, something catching your attention from the corner of your eye. By the time you turned, it was gone.  “What?” Alec asked.  “I thought i saw something.” You shook your head. “Maybe it was Felix, did you get Felix in on this too!?” You asked playfully as you climbed onto the counter and opening a cabinet. 

You blinked, seeing another you looking back. A mirror in the kitchen cabinet? “(Y/N)?”  “That’s so weird. Wait, that-” You gasped, reeling back.  “(Y/N)!” The twins hurried forward to catch you, but you never landed in their arms. They looked up to find the kitchen cabinet open and you completely gone. The necklace they had hidden from you sat alone inside of the wooden cabinet. You were gone.  “Demetri...” Jane said in disbelief. “Demetri!” Jane yelled. 

You fell back, landing on your back on cold floor. You recognised the room. You looked around. It was your bathroom. Your bathroom from home. You scrambled up to look at your bathroom mirror. Jane and Alec were gone, your reflection looking horrified right back at you. You fell back once more, shocked about what just happened. You screamed in horror. You were back home, but never got to say good bye to anyone- not even Demetri. Your scream turned into hysteric sobs as you covered your face, hugging your knees to your chest. 

You did everything you could to feel close to them again. You reread the books, you re-watched the movies over and over again. You couldn’t believe you’d say such a thing after all of this but you didn’t want to be home. You wanted to be with Demetri. You wiped your eyes after finishing Breaking Dawn. You curled up under your blanket. It wasn’t the same. He couldn’t see you, he couldn’t hear you. Not once did he ever look at you. You wished for more. More scenes with him, with the Volturi anything at all. You flicked through special features before halting. There was a deleted Volturi scene, one you didn’t recognise. 

You played it immediately, clambering out of the confines of the blanket, full attention towards the scene. “You have our sincerest condolences, you do, but it’s time to move on. Months have passed and they haven’t returned. They won’t be coming back.” Aro said, his hands clasped and one leg cross over the other. Demetri stood before the three leaders.  “With all due respect, I can’t do that.” Demetri turned his back and the camera panned to face him as he looked in straight at the camera, at you if he could have seen you. “I know what I want and that is (Y/N) with me.”  “Me!?” You gasped out before catching yourself, looking around. You reminded yourself it couldn’t have been.  “So you intend to wait for them even though you know they won’t come back?” Caius sneered.  “Yes.” Demetris gaze didn’t wander and instead a small smile grew on his face. “In fact...” Demetri trailed off. He stepped forward and suddenly he was in your living room, moving towards you. 

Your jaw dropped as he reached out for you.  “Demetri!?” Aro called out as well as his brothers. “Where did he go!?” You heard shouts in the background but couldn’t pay attention because Demetri was in front of you.  “Demetri...” You said, your eyes filling with tears. “The universe will have to do better than that to keep you from me.” Demetri smiled softly. He took your hand as pulled you with him as he walked backwards towards the TV, never tearing his eyes from you. 

Suddenly your surroundings changed and you were in the throne room again.  “You could see me?” You said to Demetri. Demetri smiled.  “Yes. I could see you watching for a brief second and that’s the only time i needed.”  “What in the hell-?” Caius couldn’t finish, the three leaders eyeing the spot you both had just appeared from out of nowhere.  “Come with me.” Demetri took your elbow with his free hand and pulled you along with him.  “Where are we going?”  “My room.” He wouldn’t give you any other details.

[wthzoe]

chapter 7 pt. 2 - you can never be too happy in this life

'you can never be too happy in this life' yeah, that's still the line

series masterlist - here

previous | next

warning: character death

a/n: aaand she lives! hi, yes, i'm alive! i honestly don't remember how long i was gone but thank you sm for (still) supporting 'with a smile' even if my updating schedule is shit lmao. here's the long overdue part 2 of chapter 7! i hope it's alright 😩

tags: @crayonwriting

-

The timing couldn’t be more perfect for the two of you. Spring break rolled around a couple weeks later, giving you time to work on Kuroo moving into your apartment. Soon enough you were sharing your room with your boyfriend. The triplets were overjoyed to find out that their papa will be living under the same roof and that they get to spend more time with him.

“Papa!” The triplets yelled one peaceful afternoon; excitement evident in the tone of their voice. That could only mean one thing; Kuroo has returned home from volleyball practice. You peaked at the entrance area from the kitchen, seeing how hot and disheveled your boyfriend was. Duffel bag slung across his torso, his hair messy as usual and his lips smiling widely at his little boys.

He picked all three of them up at the same time (which gave your poor motherly heart a scare) causing the boys to burst in a fit of giggles. Kuroo chuckled along with them as he walks the short distance to the kitchen before placing them down on the table. You walk up to him to give him a kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his height. He grabbed you by the waist the moment you came in close proximity to him.

"I'm home," he whispered.

"Welcome back," you whispered back, giving him one last peck on the lips before pulling away and moving your attention to the food on the stove.

You ate dinner with your family as usually would, nothing really going out of the ordinary until you heard your phone ring from the living room. You were about to stand up in order to retrieve the device but Kuroo offers to do it instead as he was closer to the living room.

"I'll get it." He picks it up then glances at the caller ID which showed the name 'Grandpa'. He instinctively answered it then brought it to his ear. "Hello?"

"(Y/N)— Oh, Tetsurou?"

"Yes, it's me." He began walking back to his spot on the dining table while you watch him curiously, trying to find out who he's talking to and what they're talking about. "I'm sorry, what?"

Kuroo's face went pale, probably due to the news delivered to him. He gulps before shifting his gaze to you.

"(Y/N)..."

You beg Kuroo to drive faster than he already is in hopes of arriving to the hospital quicker. She'll be alright. She's fine. It's just a minor thing, right? Thoughts flooded your mind from the moment you dropped the triplets off at Bokuto and Akaashi's shared dorm room to the present.

Kuroo grabbed your hand that you were nibbling on out of anxiety, giving it a tight squeeze of reassurance. But nothing could keep you calm, all you need was to arrive at the hospital faster and see for yourself that your grandmother would be alright.

The second the car was parked, you dashed out of it and into the hospital, frantically asking the front desk for your grandmother. You didn't even give the receptionist a chance to finish her question regarding your relation to the patient. You simply dashed to the elevator, pressing the 'up' button too many times, as if it would help the elevator arrive faster. When it did, people swore a ghost rushed by at how quick you got on.

More thoughts fill your head, making you forget that you completely left your boyfriend behind, but he understood. Unlike you, Kuroo calmly asked the receptionist for your grandmother's room and calmly waited for the elevator door to open.

On the other hand you were there catching your breath right outside your grandmother's room. You knew she wouldn't be too fond of the state you were in now so you gave your self time to breathe. After a couple minutes you finally lift your fist to knock— beep.

Oh no. It was that beep. The long one. Your heart sank to the deepest pits of Earth. That's not it, right? You were hearing wrong. She's fine. When you walk in, she'll greet you as always. She's fine. She's fine. She's—

The scene that greeted you when you opened the door sunk your heart deeper than what you thought was humanely possible. Doctors, or were they nurses? You didn't know, you couldn't think, were huddled around the bed while frantically trying to revive your grandmother.

In the corner was your grandfather, who had noticed you enter because he was trying so hard not to see his wife battle life and death. You ran to him in tears. He gave you a tight hug, his breath equally as shaky as yours, maybe even more.

The two of you stayed in that position the whole time, earnestly waiting for good news that never came. She's gone. You grandmother's gone. The person who took you in and raised you like her own was gone.

You sink into the chair beside the bed, listlessly staring at her peaceful expression. If it was even remotely possible, more tears rolled down your cheeks. Your breaths becoming even heavier, as you release sobs.

"Grandma," you called out, hoping she'll find her way back to you. Maybe she was just lost. "Granny..."

The more you call for her the more you realize that she's not coming back. You grab her cold hand with both of yours, desperately trying to heat it up as you call for her. You lean your head onto her shoulder and bawled. Her body no longer providing the comforting heat you always loved.

"I said— I said I'm going to repay you... for everything you've done for me." You choked out in between sobs. "How am I going to do that now? Please don't leave me..."

You stayed like that for hours, even after Kuroo came to comfort you. But Kuroo and your grandfather both decided that it would be best to leave you be for now.

After a while you calmed down. Your grandfather approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"She... knew what was coming." He started. "Two days ago, before we came here, she told me she wanted a nice romantic evening before she goes. So we did that. She said she regrets not being able to properly say goodbye to you and the triplets before she goes."

You stare at your grandmother's lifeless body as tears began to flow once again.

"We prepared gifts for the boys for the next 15 years until they turn 18. She said it was the least she could do. She didn't let me contact you until she knew it was her last day. She said it was 'a few days too many of worrying for my baby'."

Once again you were full on sobbing into her shoulder.

"She said she has a last wish for you."

"What is it?" You lift your head, determined to fulfill your grandmother's last wish until;

"(Y/N)..." You felt your body tense at the feminine voice from behind you. You turn around only to see—

"Mom, dad. Why are you here?" Your voice was harsh as you eye them up and down.

"(Y/N), sweetie..."

"Don't you 'sweetie' me. You kicked me out remember?" Your grandfather's hand on your shoulder gave you a slight squeeze.

"(Y/N)... did you know that all this time they've been assisting you and the boys as much as they can? They regret what they did. Please talk to them at least. Your grandmother would be very happy."

You remind yourself that this was your grandmother's last wish as you hesitantly lead them out of the room. Kuroo gave you a look of concern from where he sat, knowing how tense you were. You give him a slight smile to reassure him.

"Just so you know, I have nothing to say to you." You speak up.

"I know, but please listen to us." You crossed your arms and turned to face them, not making eye contact. "I admit that what we did was wrong, that we were too harsh to you. I also admit that the first few months, we didn't care at all, but then one day your grandmother visited us and brought us a copy of your ultrasound. Your dad and I were happy for you, we regretted what we did but we knew you wouldn't even want to see us after all that."

She reached for your arm but you flinch away from her. She sighed then continued her explanation.

"We asked for updates about the four of you. We asked about what we can do to help, even if just financially. I saw how well you raised your boys, (Y/N). I don't have the rights to, but I'm proud. We... didn't plan on approaching you because the pain we caused you was too much and I didn't want you to be in pain again when you see us. But mom said it was her dying wish, and I also wanted to make things right. So, (Y/N), I'm very sorry."

You eyed your parents, checking for signs of insincerity in their words. But their expressions were nothing but sincere. You sigh and slowly approached your mother for a hug.

"Don't get me wrong, I still haven't fully forgiven you. I'm still very hurt. I just think that having things continue the way they were will only be bad for all of us." Both parents gave you a tight hug back, crying. Yoy caught a glimpse of Kuroo sitting outside your grandmother's room from over your mother's shoulder. "I have someone for you to meet."

You pull away from each other before calling for Kuroo. "Tetsu."

Your boyfriend stared at you in confusion, probably wondering why on Earth were you calling him in the middle of a touching reunion. Nonetheless, he complied to your call and approached you sheepishly.

"This is my boyfriend, Tetsurou."

"Kuroo Tetsurou, ma'am and... sir." Without further notice your mom pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you. Thank you very much for taking care of my (Y/N)."

Kuroo chuckled as he hugs her back, looking over to you before saying, "My pleasure."

[my-emotional-self]

Dodger’s Vet

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, sick Dodger, Fluff

Summary: Chris meets the new Veterinary in town when Dodger becomes sick.  

A/N: I imagine this happening right after he gets back home from filming The Deep Sea Diving Resort so he has his longer hair and beard!  Oh, and I this idea just popped into my head. Should I continue and do a couple more parts?

You walked into the clinic early Tuesday morning, turning on all the lights.  Smiling, you looked around at your facility, delighted at what you saw.  It had been a long time coming, but you finally graduated from school and you were officially a Veterinarian.  Not only that, but with all the hard work you put yourself through, you managed to open your own clinic in a small town just outside of Boston.  

Boston is where you were from, but you wanted to move just outside of the large city and into a smaller community.  Your grandparents, bless their souls, gave you your inheritance early because they saw how determined you were and they didn’t want you to drown in bills.  

Luckily they were very wealthy, putting into the right stocks; that’s what you get when your grandpa worked on Wall Street his whole life.  Because of your early inheritance, you were able to pay off your loans from school, buy yourself a quaint little house, and also open up your own Veterinarian Clinic.  To say life was great would be an understatement.  

It had been a little over six months since you had moved to Sudbury, and just about three months since you had opened up your clinic.  You were nervous to say the least, unsure if your clinic would be a hit or miss in this small town.  But you did your research and saw that the closest Vet Clinic around was nearly 15 miles away.  

One of the things you prided yourself on is that three days a week, you were on call after hours for emergencies just in case.  

Because your clinic had been a big success so far, you were able to hire on two other Veterinarians, one a specialty in exotic animals also, and six Veterinarian Assistance.  To make things even better, your clinic was only a mile down the road, making it easier to head home during lunch breaks and feed your own brood of animals.  

Currently you had three dogs and two cats; all of them rescued or saved.  Two of your dogs you saved because people came in for emergencies and couldn’t afford the services.  They ended up leaving the clinic, and the dogs and you gladly worked on them and took them home.  They were both Corgis, both brothers and they had gotten into some poison at the house. Luckily you were able to save them, but it was very touch and go.  Your other dog was a Great Dane named Petunia; you found it funny how you named her such a delicate name for a big dog but she was your baby.  Your cats were also brothers and you named them Tom and Jerry as they were both rambunctious little buggers.  

Heading into your office, you looked over your list of patients for the day and smiled when you saw Dodger was coming in for a check-up and his shots.  He was such a good boy and his fur was so soft; he was by far one of your favorite patients to date.  

~~~

The day went by fairly quickly and before you knew it, there was a knock on your door.  One of the assistance poked her head through, letting you know that Dodger was in exam room three and ready for you.  

With a smile, you got up from your chair in your office and made your way down the hall.  When you got to the exam room, you gave a quick knock to let them know you were there.  

Upon opening the room, Dodger got up from his spot on the floor, tail wagging excitedly as he raced over to meet you.  

“Hi there Dodger! Yes, it’s so good to see you too,” you cooed as you knelt down, letting the happy dog give you kisses.  “Hello Lisa.  It’s good to see you too.”

Lisa chuckled at the dog attacking you with kisses.  “It’s good to see you too Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Oh please, call me Y/N. Dodger and  I are on a first name basis now so I’m hoping we can do that too,” you said with a smile, looking at the woman sitting in the chair.  She gave you a nod and a smile back.  “Alright, so just a check-up and a few shots today for Dodger is that right?”

“Yeah.  He’s got his last round of shots I believe and then he will be all caught up.”

Walking over to the wall, you pushed a button and the large metal table descended to the ground. With the help of Lisa, you got Dodger onto the table and you held him down as it moved back up into place.  

You checked his ears and his breathing, along with a few other normal procedures before grabbing the shots off the counter.  

His tail started wagging when he saw you grabbing the treats from the jar.  You handed them to Lisa as she kept him busy while you administered the shots.  He was always such a good boy, holding still for you.  

“And we are all done. You did good Dodger,” you beamed giving him a scratch behind the ear as his tongue rolled out from his mouth.  

“Thank you so much Y/N. I’m so happy you decided to move here and open a clinic.  Dodger is so relaxed around you and you are nice and close to home,” Lisa gushed with a smile, taking your hand in hers.  

“It’s my pleasure, really.”

“My son should be home in the next few weeks so if Dodger needs to come back for any reason, I’m sure it will be him bringing him here and not me.”

“Well I’ll be sad to miss you but please feel free to stop by and say hi anytime you want.”

~~~

“Just take him into the vet,” Lisa said, speaking to her son over the phone.  

“I honestly don’t know if it’s that serious Ma,” Chris said as he watched Dodger have diarrhea yet again in the backyard of his home.  “On second thought, he’s doing it again.

“Honey, I’m telling you, this new vet in town is amazing.  Dodger loves her.”

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It’s after hours.  I’d have to wait until tomorrow to even see if I can get an appointment in.”

“Well, what day is it?” Lisa asked.

“Umm,” Chris began to say, not even aware of what day it was as always lost track of time when he came home from filming.  “Thursday. Why?”

“Oh good.  If you are worried about Dodger at any point tonight, know that Dr. Y/L/N is on call for emergencies.  She lives very close by to her clinic so it won’t be a problem.”

“Ma, I don’t want to wake him up,”

“Her,” Lisa cut him off. The vet that sees Dodger is female.”

“Ok then.  I don’t want to wake HER up in the middle of the night if it’s not serious.”

“Well, that’s fine sweetie. But keep an eye on Dodger.  If he suddenly begins to vomit as well, then you really need to take him in.”

Later that night as Chris was getting ready for bed, close to midnight, he heard a weird sound coming from the living room.  Rushing out of his room, he saw Dodger throwing up on the ground.  

“Fuck buddy, what is wrong with you huh?  Did you get into something?”  Chris began to panic, knowing he couldn’t lose Dodger.  

Grabbing his phone, he dialed the number his mom had given him.  On the fourth ring, a groggy sounding voice answered the phone.  

~~~

Groaning at the ringing of your phone, you rolled over in bed and answered it.  “Dr. Y/L/N.”

“Umm, yeah.  Hi.  My name is Chris and I’m the owner of Dodger,” the man on the phone said frantically. Immediately you perked up at Dodger’s name.

“Hello Chris.  Is Dodger alright?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.  That was the one thing about being a Vet; you got attached to your patients so easily and with Dodger involved, you were beginning to worry.  

“Not really.  Two days ago he began to have diarrhea, so I withheld all food and treats for 24 hours and when I fed him again this morning, well, the diarrhea came back and now he’s throwing up.”  

“Ok Chris.  If you are willing to, I can be at my clinic in five minutes.”

“Yeah,” Chris breathed out, “Yeah I’ll meet you there.  Thank you so much Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s not a problem at all Chris.  It’s what I’m here for.”

Five minutes later you pulled up at the front of your clinic and raced to the front door to unlock it. The parking lot was deserted so Chris and Dodger had not shown up yet.  

Walking into your office, you put down your coat and purse before heading out into the main lobby to wait for them.  

It only took a minute before you saw a car pull into the parking lot.  Opening the front door, you saw a man with dark hair that hung just above his ears, and a thick yet trimmed beard, opening the back of his car door.

He picked up Dodger and carried him into the clinic as you held the door open for him.  Your heart dropped at seeing Dodger so lethargic, making you worry even more.  You quickly locked the door behind him.  

“Let’s take him to exam room one,” you said as you began to walk down the hallway.  

Chris placed Dodger on the metal table as you got to work quickly examining him.  You checked his breathing, along with to see if he had a fever. Lifting his top tip, you pressed against his pale gums.  

“Ok, so far I can tell he has a fever and he is severely dehydrated, which is common in dogs who have diarrhea and are vomiting.  I’d like to give him some water via an IV if you are alright with that?” you asked looking at Chris and waiting for his answer.  

He nodded hastily. “Yes.  Yeah I’ll agree to anything as long as he gets better.”  Your heart sunk at his words and you knew right away he was a great doggie dad; wanting to do anything for his boy.  

You got an IV into Dodger as he lay on the table; no energy whatsoever.  Once the water began to flow into his system, you grabbed a syringe and took a vial of blood.  

“I’m going to go back into the lab and check his blood to see if I can find the underlying issue to what’s wrong with him.”

Chris nodded his head as he sat on the chair next to Dodger and petting him.  

It didn’t take more than a few minutes before you came back into the room, removing your gloves from your hands.  “When was the last time Dodger had a bowel movement?”

“Ummm,” Chris began to say, checking his watch, “about twenty minutes ago.  As I was getting my shoes on he went in the house again and I didn’t have time to clean it up.  I just wanted to get him here.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Well I think you did the right thing in bringing him here.  I can tell his breathing is already becoming more steady from the water IV.  But I have a favor to ask you and I completely understand if you don’t want to leave him here.”

Chris’ brows furrowed. “What is it?”

“I think I might know what’s wrong with him, but the absolute 100% way to tell for sure is to get a stool sample.  Preferably one that is not much older than 30 minutes.”

“Oh….Oh,” Chris said in final realization.  

“Like I said Chris. If you don’t want to leave him here with me, I completely understand.  We can always wait until he has another bowel movement.”

Chris jumped up from his chair, checking to make sure he had his keys, wallet and cellphone. “No.  It’s really no problem at all.  I only live a few minutes away and I really just want to get to the bottom of why he’s sick.  I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You sat down in the chair next to Dodger; not much else you could do at this point until Chris came back with the stool sample.  As you sat with Dodger, your fingers ran through his thick tan fur, smiling lightly at the dog as he looked at you with hopeful eyes.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Dodger perked his head up slightly, his eyes landed on you. “You’ll be ok buddy.  I know you will pull through.  You’re such a strong boy aren’t you?  Yes you are.”  Leaning forward, you let Dodger lick you, giving you kisses, completely unaware that Chris had heard and seen the whole thing.  

“I’ve got it,” Chris said quietly, not wanting to disturb Dodger.  

Getting up from your spot, you thanked him and headed into the lab with the stool sample.  Placing it under the microscope, you let out a sigh as your gut was right.  

Heading back into the room, you felt warmth envelope your body at the sight of Chris and Dodger. You were a good judge of character when it came to owners of pets and you knew Chris took the best care of Dodger that he possibly could.  

He didn’t realize you were standing there so you took a few more moments to admire the sight in front of you.  Chris looked familiar to you, but you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Giving up, you made yourself known.

“Just as I thought,” you said, walking into the room, arms folded over your chest.  Chris stood up, concern washing over his face.  “Do you want the good news first, or the good news?”

Chris’ eyes grew wide before finally letting out a sigh, realizing there was only good news to be said.

“I’ll ah, I’ll take the good news first,” he said with a smile; the first smile you had seen of the night; and boy did he look beautiful with a smile.  

“The good news is that I found out what is wrong with him.  He has Giardia.  The other good news is that once his IV is finished, you can take him home.  I’ll give you some antibiotics to start giving him, and you need to start him on a bland diet.  Start with rice and after a couple of days you can add in some cooked chicken.  Feed him that for about a week and then slowly start incorporating his food back into his diet.  He should be as good as new in no time.”

The relief was easily noticeably as Chris relaxed his shoulders; his hand resting on Dodger’s side as he pet his dog.  You walked forward and scratched behind Dodger’s ear.

“Has he been around any other dogs recently?” you asked, looking up at Chris; just noticing now how tall he was compared to your frame.  

“Umm, actually yeah. I took him to the dog park two days ago.”

You nodded, figuring that must have been where he contracted it.  “Giardia is very contagious, especially from other dogs.  In fact, humans can contract it as well.  It’s contracted through feces, or infected water or surfaces from feces.  When you get home tonight, if you aren’t too tired, make sure you clean up all the areas that Dodger has had an accident in the house very well.  We don’t want this moving to you.  I’m also going to give you a special shampoo for Dodger.  It will remove any feces that perhaps maybe stuck into his fur or anywhere on him.”  Chris nodded at your words, ready to do whatever it takes.  

Once Dodger’s IV was finished, you held the door open for Chris as he carried a now sleepy and relaxed Dodger into his car.  After placing him in the backseat, Chris headed back inside to grab the antibiotics and shampoo.  

“How much do I owe you?” Chris asked as he took out his wallet, grabbing his credit card.  

You waved your hands in front of him.  “Please, don’t worry about it Chris.  It’s on the house.”

His hands stilled, looking up at you with shock.  “What? This was considered an emergency. It’s the middle of the night. Please, Dr. Y/L/N, it’s no problem. No matter what the cost is.  Trust me,” he said handing over his credit card.

You smiled at him, gently pushing his hand with the card away from you.  “I can’t possibly charge you when it comes to Dodger.  In any case of emergency, I would have happily helped, especially when it comes to him.  He’s become my best patient,” you said with a smile.  “And please, just like I told your mother, call me Y/N.”

Chris gave you a sad smile and you could tell he was battling with himself over fighting you more, wanting to pay.  

“Are you sure I can’t pay anything?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.  “No. But I will let you pay for his check-up on Monday.  Does that sound fair?”

Chris nodded, giving you another graceful smile.  “It’s less than I was hoping for, but I guess it will have to do.”

After grabbing your purse and coat from your office, you walked Chris to the door.  Shutting off the lights, you locked up and you both headed to your respected cars.

You paused when you got to your door; Chris doing the same at his car as he looked at you.  “You have my number.  Please feel free to call if he worsens at all.”

Chris gave you a nod and a quick smile.  “So I’ll see you on Monday?”

Giving him your own nod and smile, you got into your car and headed back to your quant little house.  

~~~

After Chris got home, he laid Dodger on his dog bed and began to clean the house like a mad man in any and all spots that Dodger had an accident.  

Once he was finished he hopped into bed; his arm leaning over the side to comfort Dodger by petting him.

One thing was for sure, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.  From the minute he saw you, he thought you were so unbelievably beautiful. The way you took care of Dodger also made his heart race in such a desirably way.  He always knew that the woman he was with had to be an animal lover.

And then when you refused to have him pay for your services?  That got his mind reeling.  He couldn’t think of anyone who would refuse payment on an emergency service like this.  In his mind, you seemed like the perfect woman and he couldn’t wait to see you again on Monday.

Tag List: @the-wayward-robot @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @xjjlex @chrisevansfanfic @mrs-captain-evans @pumbibaby @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @patzammit @brastrangled @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @poerebel @bornfortherainydays @livslookingforloki @raveviolet @southerngracela

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 37/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You were rudely awoken about thirty minutes after you and Loki had finally gone to bed by someone pounding on your sittingroom door. You and Loki had stayed up talking until the very moment that Frigga’s spell had faded. You hadn’t wanted to waste a moment of having your voice back. 

You went to see who it was, leaving Loki sleeping. You were a little surprised he hadn’t woken, but he had used a lot of magic yesterday and it had been a long day. You did take a moment to note how adorable he was while he was sleeping. You also drew a dagger before you opened the door. You were grumpy at being woken, but not stupid.

Tony was standing outside of your sittingroom. You sheathed the dagger when you realized it was him and just glared at him, wondering what on Earth was so important that he had to wake you at 3:30am. “Kat, good. There’s an- what are you wearing?” Tony asked, staring at your outfit. You looked down to see what you was wearing. You didn’t remember what you had put on thirty minutes ago to fall into bed. You had stayed up way too late so none of Frigga’s spell got wasted, and you hadn’t paid attention to what you threw on for bed. No wonder Tony was upset. You were wearing one of Loki’s button-down shirts, and no pants. You gestured to his outfit, which was a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. He glared. You stepped back to slam your sittingroom door in his face and go back to bed. “No, sorry. Kat, there’s an emergency. It’s Veronica.” Those words stopped you cold.  You stepped out of your sittingroom, grabbed him by the arm and teleported the pair of you downstairs to the infirmary. “I hate when you do that,” Tony growled. He wasn’t used to teleporting yet.

“Bay 2!” Julia called when she saw you teleport in. You nodded brusquely and ran for the emergency bay, dragging Tony along behind you.

You skidded to a halt at Veronica’s bedside. The sight that awaited you was horrible. She had been gutted. You had seen wounds like this before, but you couldn’t deal with that now. Both she and her unborn baby were in dire danger. You shoved your sleeves up and placed your glowing hands on her, throwing healing power into her and the baby, trying to save them both.

You had to take a risk then. /Claire, get Loki. He’s asleep in my suite. I need him here now/ you hated using telepathy with those who didn’t have telepathy as a power. You were afraid of hurting them. You didn’t have a choice now. Your hands were too preoccupied trying to keep Veronica alive that you couldn’t sign. You needed Loki’s help with this healing. You projected your thoughts so Claire and Tony could both hear you, it was less dangerous that way than it would be connecting directly with their minds. Claire created a portal and disappeared into your bedroom.

“I thought healing was a… what was it?…single caster spell?” Tony asked while you worked.  He was trying so hard to understand magic.

/It usually is. Unless the healers have worked together for years to be able to pull of the harmony needed to not interfere with the other’s work. Loki and I are soulbound. He can jump in and not affect the working/ you explained to Tony quickly. Claire dragged Loki back through the portal a moment later. He looked like she had literally dragged him out of the bed. He saw you elbows deep in blood and healing magic and instantly came to your side. He jumped into healing mode just as quickly as you had. /Help!/ you invited Loki, more of an order than an invitation. However, it was rude to jump into a magical working without a formal invitation. His hands glowed green and he had them on Veronica an instant later. His healing powers weren’t as strong as your, since you had your own healing power, plus the power you had gotten from him, but you needed the help on this healing.

/I have the baby/ Loki told you. You could focus your attention on Veronica if he was keeping the baby alive. You shifted your focus. You had healed this exact same wound exactly three times previously. You knew in the back of your head where it had come from, but you were too preoccupied with the healing to consider it fully at the moment. You knew this wound intimately, though, which made it easier to heal. It was still a hell of a healing.

After over an hour of work and non-stop healing, you managed to get both Veronica and the baby healed. Tony wrapped his arms around you to keep you standing once the blue glow disappeared from your hands. You sagged against him, but was careful not to touch him with your blood soaked hands. “Kat?” he asked, concerned. “Are you ok?” you nodded, but couldn’t reply any better. “Liar,” he scolded gently. He lifted you gently into his arms. You looked frantically for Loki. He had drained himself with that healing too. He was still standing on his own, though. “Do either of you know why Balder would be targeting Veronica?” Tony asked. At least he was smart enough to know that this was Balder’s work.

Loki blinked quickly, trying to focus. He had drained too much in this healing too. “It was a warning,” he finally replied. “A warning to us.” His words were less elegant, more blunt, but you could tell he was having trouble finding the right words, especially in English.  Yes, he had Allspeak, but he had to concentrate on it.  “Balder wants Kat for his master plan. He hurt someone who cannot speak, like Kat cannot speak, to let us know that he is here and he is coming for her,“

"Would you speak English?” Tony growled at Loki. Loki just blinked, confused. You realized he had been speaking his native Asgardian once Tony spoke. He was too out of it to realize. And you hadn’t realized because of your Allspeak and the soulbond.  You sighed and somehow got Tony to put you down so you could sign out a translation for what Loki had said. You wrapped your arms around Loki’s waist when you had finished so you could hold each other up. “Claire, make a portal back upstairs for them. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow when you two aren’t so dead,” Tony told you. You nodded and made your way through Claire’s portal. Loki started looking better as soon as you were safely back upstairs.

/You ok?/ you thought at him.

“I am alright, darling. That was just a larger healing than anticipated. Holding babies to this world before they are even born is not an easy feat,” he explained.

/Tell me about it/ you groaned. You looked down at what had once been a perfectly white shirt. It was now soaked in blood. /I owe you a new shirt/ you commented. Loki chuckled.

“I will just create a new one. It is no trouble,” he replied. “You can have the first shower,” he offered. You were both thinking more clearly now, still exhausted, but at least able to function.

/Just join me/ you suggested, though the thought made you turn all sorts of shades of red. Maybe even the magenta-red of your hair. /It will get us both back to bed faster/ you added. Then stopped dead when you realized how that sounded. /I meant for sleep!/ you added quickly. Offering to let him shower with you was enough of a step for one day. He spun you to face him. You looked up into his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, gently. “We do not have to do this,” he reminded you.

/We need to get the blood off of us and I don’t want you waking me when you climb back into bed/ you answered, pragmatically. He gave you a look. He didn’t believe your answer.  He was so careful since you’d been raped before.  You appreciated it, though you trusted Loki and knew he wouldn’t hurt you or press you farther than you were comfortable with. 

“I will gladly help you get the blood out of your hair,” he replied with a gentle smile. “As long as you are sure.” He was overly cautious and overly patient. You just wanted to go to bed and you both needed to get the blood off of you to accomplish that goal.

/How does blood always end up in my hair?/ you grumbled and stepped into the bathroom. You got the shower started and kept your back turned to Loki as you stripped off his shirt that you were wearing. You vanished it to the trash. It was beyond ruined, also technically a biohazard. You stepped into the steaming hot shower and just stared at the drain when the water ran red. There was so much blood.

You stiffened when Loki joined you, but he was a perfect gentleman, as usual, and just scrubbed the blood from your hair while grumbling about how you managed to get blood in your hair in the first place. You tried not to look at him, not here, this was a purely pragmatic activity for getting clean so you could sleep before you had to go to class in the morning. You couldn’t help it though, and you very much appreciated the view. You blushed and turned back to to facing the wall. This was pragmatic, not remotely sexy or romantic, you reminded yourself a few more times while you scrubbed and scrubbed the blood off of your arms and the rest of you it had somehow gotten on. You did look once at Loki to make sure there was no blood on him that he couldn’t reach himself. That was of course the only reason.  It couldn’t be that you wanted to see a naked Loki.  That would just be ridiculous.  There wasn’t any blood on him, so you slipped out of the shower as soon as you were clean, leaving Loki the rest of the hot water and wrapping yourself in a big fluffy towel. you went back to your bedroom and pulled a pair of pajamas from your dresser. You didn’t feel like using magic you didn’t need to waste just to summon clothes. Loki had summoned a pair of pajama pants to wear when he returned to the bedroom a couple minutes later.

You curled back up in our usual position in the bed, with your head on his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Thank you,” he whispered as he held you safely in his arms.

/For?/ you asked him only half-awake at best.

“Trusting me in there,” he gestured vaguely to the bathroom. “And for calling for my help,” he added. You nodded. It was impressive that you had actually called for his help. You usually forced your way through on your own.

/I love you/ you replied, though the words just didn’t have the same feel when they were said telepathically. You knew he felt the difference too.

[turtle-steverogers]

Hero Complex

lmao hi IM BACK i wrote a fic pfffff it’s kind Shit cuz i started writing at midnight and now its 2:40 am so excuse the BAD WRITING dajfdslkfjalsdkfs

warnings: fire, mentions of death (kinda graphic ish, sad), crying

ship: ralbert

word count: 2762

-

Earlier

“Just- don’t try to be a hero, dumbass.”

Albert’s fingers freeze on the top button of his uniform, eyes darting up to study Race’s face.  He bites back a sigh, something weighing down on his chest as the fear in his boyfriend’s eyes grows.  

“That’s the whole point of my job,” He says softly, “But I’ll be careful.”

Race nods, wordlessly handing him his helmet.  Albert takes it, drawing in a deep breath to steady his hands.  Queso lifts his head from his paws, looking at the two of them questioningly before padding across the room and nudging Albert’s knee.  He lets out the breath he’d been holding and bends over the slightest bit to scratch behind Queso’s ears.  No matter how many calls his squadron responded to, his nerves still managed to run high.

“That’s all I ask,” Race responds, gently tilting Albert’s jaw and kissing him intently.  Albert presses back, heart kicking double time as adrenaline starts to overcome him.  He pulls back, the need to move overtaking him.  

“I gotta go,” He says, shifting the helmet onto his head, “I’ll be home later…”

The unspoken, ‘hopefully’, rings loudly in the air.  Albert really hates this part of the job.

Race nods, dropping his hand from Albert’s face and squeezing his bicep briefly, “Go.  Be safe.  I love you.”

Albert smiles, but it feels strained, “I love you, too.”

Now

“Dasilva, get that room on the right!  Some kid’s in there!”

Albert swears under his breath, shooting a quick nod to Finch as he hurries past him, carrying an infant in one arm and shielding a young looking mother with the other.  He grimaces, adjusting the mask on his face as the building gives the second unsettling creak in as many minutes.  

In the three years that he’s worked for the FDNY, he’d never seen a building fire this destructive.  Details were still being investigated, but from what had been gathered, an apparent fireball had formed on the 14th floor, engulfing the top four floors of the building and spreading quickly to the lower levels.  The casualty count was already tragically high, but between the first responders and following squadrons showing up to the scene, the fatality rate was going down.  

That didn’t make it any less gut-wrenching.  

Albert crosses to the apartment Finch had pointed him to and easily knocked the handle off the door.  He knocked once, calling a loud warning into the room before shouldering the door, which gave way easily thanks to the heat. 

In the corner of the room, a young boy sat cowering against the wall, arms wrapped protectively around an even younger girl.  Panicked breaths were coming vehemently from the pair and as Albert gets nearer to them, he can see the tear tracks that cut through the soot.  He crouches down, trying to seem nonthreatening.

“Are your parents here?” He asks, raising his voice over the roaring flames.

The little boy lets out a sob, pointing a trembling hand to the room adjacent to them.  Albert glances to the side, nausea rolling in his stomach as he takes in the flames licking under the closed door.  Whoever is in there, sure isn’t getting out.  

“Okay,” Albert takes a deep breath, turning back to the siblings, “I need you both to take your shirts and pull them over your mouths and noses, okay?”

He waits for them to do so, then scoops them both up easily, ensuring that they have secure grips on his shoulders, before moving swiftly out of the room.  The building lets out another threatening creak and Albert falters, trying to map out the safest route in his head.  He settles on running to the stairs on the southside of the building, opposite of where the fireball had started.

Five excruciating minutes later, Albert is able to exit the building, immediately seeking out some paramedics and dumping the kids in their care.  He turns back around, taking a deep breath before running back towards the building.

“People still up there?” Spot, another commissioner, calls.

“I don’t know!” Albert calls back, “But we can’t risk leaving anyone!”

“This building’s ‘boutta go down, man!” Spot shouts, jogging up to him.

“I don’t care,” Albert says, firmly, tightening the strap on his helmet, “If I can even get one more person out, that’s one more life saved.”

“Alright,” Spot concedes, “But I’m coming with you.”

Albert nods, steeling himself.

“Don’t try to be a hero…”

Race’s words echo in his head and he bites his lip, casting a hurried glance in the direction of their apartment complex, across the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Sorry, Racer,” He murmurs, hesitating for a short moment before running back into the building.

-

A recently opened beer bottle sits forgotten on the table as Race paces anxiously in front of the TV, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips.  He’s not entirely sure why he’s smoking.  The thing that usually eases his worries only worsening the sick feeling in his stomach as smoke rolls over his tongue, parallel to the cloud of smoke he’s watching climb higher and higher from the building until it billows off-screen.

This routine is familiar, but it never gets easier.  Letting Albert go will never fucking get easier.  It feels like he’s dumping him into the jaws of death, fire biting at his ankles every time he leaves through their apartment door.  

But he does let him go, allowing himself to grow sick with worry as he immediately searches for whatever information he can find, usually settling on the local news and popping open a beer or lighting a cigarette.  Maybe both.  More often than not, they remain unfinished.

He lets out a frustrated hum, stubbing his half-smoked cigarette out in the ashtray they keep on the coffee table.  He forces himself to sit down and drags a sweaty hand down his face.  Albert had been gone for a good two hours by now, but the fire doesn’t look like it’s getting any closer to being put out.  If any, it looks worse.

Every time a firefighter passes by the camera, Race’s stomach does a violent flip.  He can’t really tell who’s who underneath their face shields and helmets, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to differentiate them.  

Once, the news caught a clip of a firefighter being wheeled into the back of an ambulance looking very much not alive and Race had been violently sick for an hour before Albert came home and assured him that it was not him and he was okay.

That had been a bad fucking night.

Suddenly, the face of the reporter on screen morphs into one of sheer terror and the camera shifts sideways to show the building, crumbling in on itself.  There’s a moment where no one seems to react and Race scrambles to unmute the channel.  Screams ring through the speaker as the reporter and the cameraman run for shelter.  

Race feels his eyes go wide, but he can’t look away.  Somewhere to his left, Queso lets out a whimper, but he can’t find it in himself to look.  A second later, he feels Queso hop up next to him on the couch cushions and settle his weight against his side.

A million frantic thoughts crowd Race’s mind, eventually settling on the horrible debate of whether Albert is in the building or not.  Part of him wants to believe that he got away in time, but logic tells him that the idiot was probably in the building until the last second, searching for straggling survivors.  Fucking dumb shit.  Always has to be a fucking hero.

Sometimes he really hates Albert’s lack of self-preservation over others.

Scratch that.

He always hates it.

He runs his hand through his hair, pulling it almost painfully as his chest tightens.  Taking a deep breath, he presses his knuckles to his eyes, trying to stave off the oncoming panic attack.  He has to stay calm.  If Albert is alive and got out of there unharmed, he’s going to need Race to be a rock for him tonight.

Race takes another deep breath, letting it out slower this time as the vice that previously gripped his lungs loosens a bit.  He can do this.  He just needs to be patient.

He watches the news for another few minutes, picking at his cuticles distractedly as shots of firefighters and paramedics work to reign in the newly charged chaos.  Then, he clicks off the TV, heaves himself off the couch and begins to prepare for Albert’s (hopeful) return back home.

He puts some more food and water in Queso’s bowls, then crosses to the bathroom to take a quick shower.  The water is too hot and he drops the bar of soap three times before he can steady his hands enough to use it.  

He dresses himself mechanically, then digs through their dresser for Albert’s favorite pair of briefs, sweatpants, and a hoodie, setting them neatly on the end of the bed.  As an afterthought, he grabs a fresh towel and washcloth from the closet and sets them on the toilet in the bathroom.  

It’s doubtful that Albert will want to eat much of anything if- no, when he gets home, but Race busies himself in throwing together a quick pasta primavera nonetheless.  If anything, the cooking helps to settle his own nerves a bit.

Another hour passes and Race has managed to finish cooking, eat a little, and clean up the kitchen, all the while forcing down the ever-growing wave of dread.

He’s starting to run out of distracting things to do, so he picks up the book he’s been reading and settles on the couch, eyes scanning the pages, but not comprehending a thing.  

45 minutes later, the front door unlocks and opens.

Race is off the couch before it can swing back closed.

Albert doesn’t look at Race as he hangs his helmet on it’s hook, but Race can already tell that it’s going to be a rough night.  Despite the gear protecting every inch of Albert’s body, his face and hair are covered in a thick layer of ash.  He’s still dressed in his turnout pants, but his uniform top has seemingly been abandoned at some point on his return home.  The sharp tense of his shoulder has rendered his movements stiff and Race watches in carefully masked concern as he tugs off his boots.  

Once they’re dutifully lined by the door, Albert straightens up, looking at Race for the first time, a dull, haunted look in his eyes.

For a moment, Race is scared that he’s going to breakdown then and there, but Albert only clears his throat and croaks, “I need to shower.”

Queso is lingering by the kitchen entrance, but he seems to sense that his company would not be very well received right now.  Race nods at Albert, bending down to pluck one of Queso’s toys from the ground and tossing it in the direction of the kitchen.  He hears the slow patter of Queso’s paws on the tile and sees him pad out of the room in his peripheral.

“Let’s get you out of those pants before you do anything else,” Race says in a measured voice, working to sound easy, but firm.

It’s a testament to how fucked up Albert must be feeling that he doesn’t make a dirty joke at that.

Albert barely moves as Race unbuttons his turnout pants and eases them down his hips.  His gaze is unwavering as he stares blankly across the room.  Race can hear his slightly erratic breathing and it seems as if the adrenaline has yet to wear off.

“Lift up for a sec, love,” Race says, tapping at Albert’s socked feet and waiting for him to lift his legs one by one, allowing for Race to fully remove his pants.

“You can go shower now,” Race says, standing back up, “do you need me to come with you?”

Albert shakes his head, “No, I’m-I’m good.”

“You sure?” 

Albert nods, “Yeah, just- yeah, I’m good.

“Okay,” Race smiles a little, trying to look encouraging, “Shout if you need me, though.”

Albert nods again and makes a stiff beeline for the bathroom.  A few minutes later, Race hears the shower turn on.  He crosses to their bedroom to find that Albert took the clothes he’d set out in with him.

He smiles a little more genuinely as he crawls into bed.  Rolling onto his side, he busies himself with his phone while he waits for Albert to finish up, turning up the brightness to keep himself awake.  Albert was bound to take a while in the shower tonight.  He always does after missions.

A half hour later, he hears the bathroom door open and close and a moment later, the bed behind him dips as Albert joins him under the covers.  Race clicks off his phone and sets it on his bedside table, shifting onto his back as Albert settles into his arms.

“Want me to keep the lights on or off?” He asks quietly, pressing a little kiss into Albert’s now clean hair.  It’s still a little wet and smells strongly like the coconut shampoo he likes to use.

Albert nestles closer, pressing his nose to Race’s neck, “Off, please.”

Race extracts his arm momentarily to flip off the lamp switch, then draws Albert in protectively.  The silence between them stretches on for what could be hours, but Race knows Albert is still awake.

This is also part of the routine.  If Albert wants to talk, he will, but if he’d rather just lie quietly and process, Race wasn’t going to push him.

But he’d stay up with him either way.  There’s no way in hell he’d leave him to handle this alone in any capacity.

Eventually, the silence is broken by a soft whimper, then a short sniffle and Race feels Albert tuck his face further into his collarbone.  He feels his heart break in his chest, but he wills himself to remain steady as he tightens his hold on Albert.

A moment later, Albert begins to cry in earnest and Race presses a firm kiss to the crown of his head, shushing him.  

“I’ve got you,” He murmurs as Albert fists his hand in his nightshirt, holding on like a lifeline, “I’m here and I’ve got you.”

“There-there was a little girl on a fire escape,” Albert hiccups, “and she was screaming for her mom and I was about to go back in to get her, Race, I was about to go get her!  But the building…” he trails off, an awful keening noise sounding from his throat.

Race blinks back his own tears, rubbing a hand up and down Albert’s back, “You did what you could, baby.”

Albert shakes his head, “But it-it wasn’t enough.” His words are stilted- broken- and his breathing is harsh and heaving.

Race maneuvers them so they’re lying side to side, facing each other.  He cradles Albert’s head with one hand and rests the palm of his other hand on his cheek, brushing away his tears with the pad of his thumb.

“It wasn’t your fault,” He whispers firmly, “There’s nothing else you could have done.  You can’t save everyone.”

Albert closes his eyes, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he tries to take slower breaths.

“I wish I could,” Albert says after a lingering pause, “It’s fucked up.”

“It is,” Race says, “But you helped a lot of people get out of there today, you did a lot, Albert.”

Albert doesn’t answer, just tucks himself closer to Race, breathing in his warmth.  

“Rest, baby,” Race mutters, knowing that neither of them are really going to sleep that night, “I’ve got you, you can relax now.”

Albert lets out a shaky sigh and Race feels his heart grow heavier still.  The concern, grief, and anger at the world for plaguing Albert with the fucked up trauma that accompanies his job are indiscernible from one another.  He wishes more than anything that he could take away his pain, but he also knows that’s as naive as wishing he’d quit.

The most he can do is be there for him, even if there’s nothing he could say to truly make it better.

But he can be there and maybe that’ll be enough.

“I love you,” He breathes, lacing their hands together, “I’m here.”

Albert squeezes his hand, “I know,” he pauses, “I love you, too.”

And for a second, things are a little okay.

-

yeah, so im still alive!

anyway

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable 

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian  @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent 

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing 

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen 

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend 

@auspicioustarantula 

@faithmil 

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundnewsies

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty 

@eveningpaper

@malex-13

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@heart-a-n-o-n

@bitching-newsboys

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@joshuaburrageenthusiast

@random-superhero-stuff

@awkwardstranger98

@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods

@asphodelnerd

@i-dont-do-sadness

@rockyroad236

@sirgrahamcracker

@godhatesjordan

@thats-our-que-boys

@bastille-smedry

@nerdsies

@toss-me-a-pape

@wolfbutterfly42

[squishydoesstuff]

Hey @yuchan-gunhakwonwoo-jibeom it’s done, thanks for indirectly giving me the idea by somehow invading my dream with your writing. I think mom, @waterfallsandrosebuds , may want to read this more like I want her to read it.

Word count: 1914

So I do need to put a warning before this one. This will include heavy angst, as well as mentions of violence and blood. Please take this warning seriously, if you are not comfortable with these topics do not read this.

It also picks up right in the middle of a scene and the spacing between paragraphs is messed up.

I promise the ending is fluffy though!!!

As the group of us continued running down the street, Esperanza spoke up from the back. “We have to find a place to hide or lose them.” As her pace slowed slightly, Seoho turned toward her, and grabbed her wrist.

“C’mon we have to keep moving.” He tugged her gently to match his pace. The small girl looked behind her and realized the men chasing them were starting to catch up.

I have to distract them, Esperanza realized. Waiting a few minutes until he was distracted again, she managed to slip her wrist from Seoho’s grip, keeping just behind him for a couple of seconds so he wouldn’t question the action. Reaching down into her bag, she found the pocket flare she had in case they got separated. Perfect! Once she was certain Seoho wasn’t watching behind him, Esperanza stopped and spun around on the sidewalk. Finding a small alleyway, she ducked in and lit the flare against a building wall. Turning toward the entrance, she took a deep breath to steel her racing heart.

Before running back out, she paused momentarily. I’m sorry, Seoho, but you guys have to be safe. Please don’t hate me for this. She took off back onto the sidewalk, flare burning in her hand. She turned herself toward the men that were chasing her and her friends. I have to stop them before they reach the group. Waving the flare, she gained the attention of the men. Yes, you want me, not them!

In the meantime, the group had continued ahead and found a sidestreet to an open library. Youngjo slowed the group, “Through here, quickly.” Seoho turned to pull Esperanza in front of him, only to realize she wasn’t there. He whipped around quickly and almost didn’t see her further down the sidewalk, holding her flare up. Panic filled his heart as he saw the men chasing them realize who was in front of them. “Esperanza!” he cried.

The girl turned and started running up the sidewalk toward them. She frantically waved the hand without the flare to the side, just as Youngjo turned to see why Seoho sounded so desperate. Understanding what the girl meant, he gripped Seoho by the arm, dragging the man back into the sidestreet. Seoho fought against the older man, trying to break free. Tightening his hold on Seoho, Youngjo turned over his shoulder and growled to the others, “Keep going. I’ll handle this.”

“What is she doing?! Is she trying to get herself killed?” Seoho continued to writhe against Youngjo until something made him freeze, a loud crack sounded in the air.

On the sidewalk, Esperanza’s footsteps halted as excruciating pain ripped through her side and she felt her back arch from the force of whatever had struck her. Shaking, she raised her hand to feel her side as she collapsed to her knees. Pulling her hand off to stabilize herself against the ground, she noticed blood staining her palm. She gasped softly as she processed what had just happened. They had shot her.

With a last straining effort, Seoho broke free from Youngjo and took off sprinting back the way they came. Reaching the exit, he spun wildly, just in time to see Esperanza fully collapse on her side, her eyes fluttering shut. Indescribable pain tore through his heart as he stood there frozen as he whispered. “No, no no. No, why?” Rushing forward, he tried to reach her, but something tackled him from behind and stopped him. Seoho knew immediately who it was. “Youngjo, get off! I have to help her!”

Pressing his weight into the younger male beneath him, Youngjo grunted against Seoho trying to throw him off. “Stop! Stop fighting me. You won’t do her any good if you get hurt trying to save her.” Lifting his head, Youngjo noticed the men chasing them had stopped. Why did they stop? Youngjo thought to himself. Then, a black van pulled up to the sidewalk by where the mysterious men were and they all turned around and climbed in the back. Tires squeaked as the driver threw the car in reverse and spun the car back down the street. In his shock, Youngjo had lifted his pressure of Seoho, giving the boy a chance to fight out from underneath the elder.

Scrambling to his feet, he began running down the sidewalk again. Sliding to his knees, he stopped next to the unconscious girl. “Esperanza! Hey, hey, Esperanza! Open your eyes for me!” He reached out to roughly shake her shoulder, “Esperanza, I need you to wake up, c’mon, please!” Desperate tears began to fall from his eyes as Seoho hovered over the girl. Gently, he began to lift the girl, “Hey, Esperanza, open your eyes! I need your help to get you somewhere safe!” As it became obvious she wasn’t coming to, Seoho picked her up in a bridal carry. “Youngjo, what do I do?!”

“Can you carry her?” Youngjo questioned.

“Yes! Why does that matter?” Seoho was beginning to panic more and more.

“You need to carry her to the library, we can get someone to help us there.” Youngjo turned and ran back down the alley. _The girls don’t need to see what happened yet, I can’t have them panic as well. _Meeting the rest of the group at the entrance, he spoke quickly, “We need to get inside now. Gunhak, keep the girls safe, I need to see if I can help Seoho.”

Skye stepped up toward Youngjo and began to question him. “Wait, what happ--”

“Not now, Skye. I’m sorry, but I need you guys to stay safe inside,” and with that he turned back toward the alley. Running forward, he met Seoho at the entrance. “Do you need help?”

The younger male shook his head, “No, I got this. Is everyone else inside?”

“Yes. If you can make it by yourself, I am going to call an ambulance.”

“Please hurry.”

Racing back, Youngjo spoke to a librarian. “Can you call an ambulance?! My friend and I were outside when we saw a young girl get attacked. They shot her! My friend is carrying her here now.” _Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but I need to make sure they call for help. _

The librarian stuttered before quickly nodding and picking up a phone. The doors slid open as Seoho stepped through, Esperanza gripped tightly in his arms. Stopping momentarily, he looked down at the girl he was carrying. She is still breathing, which means she has some time, he thought to himself. It didn’t provide him much comfort, but it helped alleviate some stress.

Within minutes, the ambulance arrived and Seoho had to force himself to let Esperanza go. These people could help her more than he could. Once she was loaded in and prepped for emergency care, the doors to the ambulance closed and Seoho’s view of the girl was blocked.

The vehicle took off and Seoho turned to join the others, his nerves feeling numb. By the time he reached them, Youngjo was telling the girls what happened. No one could really remember much after that, all of them suffering in a state of shock.

The following days, Seoho constantly visited the hospital. The doctors were certain by now Esperanza would be fine. She just needed to wake up and rest for a while more. While it relieved Seoho’s anxiety, he was still scared because of what happened. Why was Esperanza so willing to use herself as a distraction to make sure everyone else was safe?

Sitting beside Esperanza’s hospital bed, Seoho rested his head against the blankets. She was supposed to wake up anytime and he wanted to be there when she did. However, exhaustion slowly began to seep into his body. Seoho tried to stay awake as long as possible but sleep overtook him eventually.

A few hours later, a soft groan sounded from the hospital bed and a pair of brown eyes opened. Wincing at the light, Esperanza moved her arm to cover her eyes. She looked around to take in where she was. A blank white hospital room. Wait, how did I get here, she questioned mentally. There was a soft sound of rustling and Esperanza looked down to find Seoho resting on the side of the hospital bed. She almost wanted to wake him but then noticed how tired he appeared. Turning gently to avoid waking the male, she grunted when she felt her side burn slightly. Oh right, I got shot when we were being chased. Reaching over, she pressed the call button. Soon after a nurse appeared in the doorway.

“Ms Mitchell, it’s great to see you awake!” The nurse spoke cheerfully but stopped when the young patient raised a finger to her lips and pointed at Seoho sleeping. The nurse nodded and approached Esperanza. “I need to check your vitals and have you answer some questions.” Esperanza nodded and the nurse began checking the machines, recording numbers with her clipboard.

“Actually,” Esperanza spoke softly, her voice sounding hoarse. “Could you tell me how long I was out for?”

“It’s been about 4 days since we brought you in.” The nurse turned and looked at her clipboard. “How is your side feeling?”

“It hurts when I turn but if I stay still, I don’t really feel anything.” Looking back down at Seoho, she noticed him shifting more often now. Slowly, his eyes opened and he yawned. Then suddenly, he fully sat up, “Esperanza, you’re awake!”

The nurse laughed softly before checking her papers. “I can come back later for the rest of these questions. I’ll leave you two alone.”

Esperanza turned back to the man beside her. “Is everyone okay?”

For a second, Seoho’s eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re the one in the hospital bed and you’re asking if the others are okay? Please, think about yourself for once. But yes, everyone else is fine.”

Esperanza rested her head against the pillow behind her before sighing softly. “Thank god, I didn’t think we would be able to escape.”

Seoho frowned softly at the girl, “Well, we made it.” He reached forward and grabbed her hand gently. “You are not allowed to scare me like that ever again, though.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Esperanza’s forehead. “I was so scared when I saw you on the sidewalk. I can’t lose you.”

Esperanza raised her hand to his cheek. “You won’t lose me. I’m too stubborn for you to get rid of me.” Seoho laughed at this before pressing his forehead to hers, opening his eyes to properly see her face.

“You have to promise me that you won’t leave me like that. And that you would recklessly put yourself in danger to save any of us.” Seoho’s voice was surprisingly serious. Esperanza nodded and smiled, however the male wasn’t satisfied yet. “You have to promise me this.”

Esperanza laughed, “I promise you I won’t leave you or do anything dumb to protect you.”

That got the male to smile as he nodded, “Good. I will be holding you to that promise.” Seoho leaned away from the girl, “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore but I’ll survive.” Seoho winced at that statement. “Sorry, right. Bad word choice. I think a kiss may help me heal faster.” Seoho snorted at her comment but leaned forward anyway.

“As you wish,” as with that he lightly pressed his lips against Esperanza’s.

[sugar-petals]

Doc on a Date (m)

↳ You meet your former patient Namjoon on vacation in Italy. What begins as a bizarre encounter turns into an erotic thrill.

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre › smut | one shot | 7k

— warnings › vaginal sex (protected), doggy style, cunnilingus, masturbation, degradation, marking, dom!reader, sub!rm — a/n › motto: sex with obstacles. nams with spectacles. 

The waitress with the curly hair looks a bit flushed. It’s not the evening buzz and temperature, she’s used to that. Somehow, the circular tray won’t sit right on her palm either. A fresh cup of coffee and two empty wine glasses wobble back and forth on top of it, but without actually sliding out of place — it must be one of those fancy coated trays a waiter can do pretty much a somersault with sans losing any of the beverages. Or perhaps, this is just another urban myth of Venice at night. Your day has been busy.

Her accent is broken, yet still polished to a reasonable degree. You can tell that the Ristorante Dogaressa gets its fair share of foreigners. At one point you believe that she even sounds all too deferential.

“I’m sorry, Signora. Today’s packed. Would you still prefer a seat?”

You linger with your keys still in the right hand. The famed Hotel Belleza with its first-floor restaurant is just around the block and your second choice for the evening. A two-minute ride through not-so bustling traffic, it really is more crowded on the actual Canal. But the smell of calzone and antipasti alone, the antique decor framing the doors, the palace across the river, set in delicate spotlights—

You stuff the keys into your pea coat pocket. If you want to dine at the Dogaressa, this is the only chance. The onslaught of tourists is even harder to go against when the weekend starts.

“Yes, if that’s possible? It’s my fault, with the reservation system.”

Now that you’ve turned toward the dining room ever so slightly, and perhaps she did notice, the tray comes into balance again. Back to impeccable posture. The waitress smiles.

“Table 15 on the right still has one chair left.”

“Indeed, the section at the Canal?”

“There’s a signorino seated. I hope it doesn’t cause any inconvenience. It’s a double table we can separate for you. I’ll call my colleagues, it’s done in two seconds.”

“Alright, no problem, very kind.”

After helping you take off your coat, the waitress turns to the reception now. A bearded concierge calls for “Stella” and “Valentina” through a two-way radio. You pay the music night admission, 30€. Just a blink later, two waitresses arrive at the entrance on ever-so swift feet.

He peers up from the menu card. The brunette signorino in question wears Michael Cane glasses, Oxford shoes, and no tie — shirt buttoned down to expose more of his chest than your tour guide from Verona or anybody downtown would ever dare. Frivolous. Sexy. Or simply unaware? A certain feeling between your legs says it doesn’t matter anyways. If that button is open, it’s open.

You can tell right away that he’s not a local like you. There’s a map on the left side of his plate and some kind of book with Korean lettering on top of it. Something seems familiar.

Valentina detaches the table from one side while Stella, discreet between the rows of guests, comes to bring about a second tablecloth. Once you are seated, received a separate set of cutlery, including the menu card, Valentina takes your order for a chilled beverage, yet you mess up the name twice. It’s not because your Italian is so bad. 

The waitresses leave in haste toward the kitchen, leaving you with a view on the Canal Grande, the Doge’s palace, and a rather agitated desk neighbor talking without the slightest trace of an accent. That is familiar, too. Very, very familiar.

“I’m really sorry, I could have taken a single table earlier. I need to apologize. Sincerely.”

His way of speaking is as eloquent as you know it. Some things never change.

“No problem at all,” you counter. “It’s absolutely fine. You couldn’t have known in advance. I messed up with the online reservation.”

The gentleman looks empathetic now.

“I had to ask for a table by phone as well, the server didn’t take my data somehow. Said too many requests.”

“Oh really? The same happened to me!”

“I mean they fixed it this morning, somehow,” he shrugs. “I double-checked. It’s all very mysterious. I thought I’d miss out on it.”

“Yes, they bring out the band at quarter past seven, right? Everyone in my hotel’s been talking about it. I needed to see what was going on, they were recommended to me.”

He nods, smile brighter than ever. 

“The band. The band, yes! I’m so excited. They’ll be brilliant.”

“Yes.”

“I’m, I’m sure. You’ll enjoy the evening.”

The tone, the stammer, the face. It must have been five years or more. You struggle to put it into words. He’s so attractive in his attire that you can barely say anything without feeling the pulse in your lap take over. 

“So, is this your first time in Venice?”

“Uh, pardon. This might be a bit sudden. Do I know you—”

Stella pops up by your side with a filled tray. You clear your throat and notice that she has tightened her ponytail quite a lot.

The icy drink in a tall glass sizzles a bit, leaving sprinkles at the inside of the crystal surface, just how you like it. You eye the card fast and pick out the first things that seem to fit your taste. Talking to the gentleman left you no time to browse through even one bit of the menu.

With a quick hand, the waitress notes down a tagliatelle and tomato dish, iceberg salad, and a panna cotta. 25-30 minutes waiting time, she says, chef’s busy but the restaurant is prepared because of the music night, come to the reception to pay later on. You check your watch, it’s almost seven. The signorino orders an artichoke puree, the risotto with Marsala sauce, and an array of gelato with seasonal fruit for dessert. Extra large portion but a La Carte. Just, extra large, mille grazie. Stella rushes to the next guest in no time.

The woman at the next table gasps out before you can lean toward the signorino again. Several more heads turn. Only now do you realize that the restaurant has equipped a corner on the far end of the Canal terrace with a microphone, guitar, and drum set. To which now a young lean man appears to be headed to, straying through the rows of chairs in a golden waistcoat more gleaming than the Doge’s Palace, Willy Wonka shades, and black trousers. Two other men clad in red leather jackets follow him to the stage. Claps and cheers resound from the terrace with each entrance.

“Back home he’s a really popular performer,” the gentleman beams. 

Guitar noises drown out what he says next. The singer in gold announces himself as “Jung Hoseok and this is Seoul State of Mind! A—five, a—six, seven, and eight! Yeah!“

More applause. The drummer starts to step on the pedal, indicating a fast rhythm. Some visitors rise from their desks, take out their phones. A few tourists and locals already clog the space between chairs. The signorino tries to yell something to you across the table, but the howling guitar and upbeat cymbals overpower the sound. The people around you tap their feet to the beat, as does the signorino. You realize that the song itself doesn’t appear to be called “Seoul State of Mind”, but rather, is the name of the band itself. Several restaurant guests start singing along when an enthusiastic Jung Hoseok intonates the chorus. Now you understand everyone at the hotel breakfast raving about the music night and giving you the recommendation. Albeit tremendously loud, it’s a really catchy sound.

A new wave of frantic guests streams into the room, likely coming from the second and third floor of the restaurant. People from Romania, the US, Brazil. In the meantime, Stella, Valentina, and some other waiters squeeze through the crowd with their trays lifted above their heads, delivering plates and drinks. Point half past seven, the menu steams off on your table, spreading a rich scent of tomato sauce.

The sigorino barely focuses on his own risotto given that he has taken out his phone as well. Jung Hoseok, ever the Mick Jagger, prances around the terrace engaging bystanders with juicy dance moves. In between the next song, he loudly announces to give it up for Kim ”Rowdy” Seokjin on the guitar and Justin Jungkook on the drums who waves and twirls his sticks through the air right away, then giving the crowd a taste of his explosive skill. The gentleman keeps on filming every second of it. 

It appears to you that the sound technicians likely went for maximum volume so the people on the Canal boats could hear Seoul State Of Mind from afar, too. It’s so deafening that you can’t hear your own cutlery scrape on the plate while you eat, nor Stella placing the panna cotta on the table once you finish. The playlist goes by in a rush, and people start squeezing between you and the table of the signorino. It’s almost 8PM.

The panna cotta is tastefully portioned and drips with red fruit and chocolate decor, but you finish up fast. Several impassioned fans from Padua start to press against the back of your chair, and one particularly eager guy accidentally hits your elbow while you try to balance a strawberry on your dessert spoon. Jung Hoseok, still uproarious even after five exhausting performances, announces the next song. Busan Namja — Men of Busan. The crowd goes wild again.

“Rowdy” Jin descends into an impetuous, almost delirious guitar solo hitting more notes at once than you ever could on your own Dreadnought acoustic in 1998 that you decide to get up. With ten jumping and gyrating Venetians or more between your table and the one with the signorino, you fail to get through to him two times. As you do, finally, the table is empty. No trace. Just the book is left, open at the first blank page. It seems that he didn’t manage to read any further, and how could he, with Jung Hoseok rocking and thrusting his life away on the terrace.

A scraggly handwriting, however, catches your eye. At the top left corner, the page reads: “Kim Namjoon // 김남준”.

Yes.

Namjoon.

You knew it was him. It was the name on your patient’s file, the exact same signature.

Seoul State of Mind announces another song, “Birdz and the Beez, yeah!”, and a jolt goes through the masses. Before you know it, the crowd moves you along. By the very skin of your teeth, your feet bring you closer to the entrance. You look around, but the entire congested first floor goes into a frenzy with Seokjin’s roaring Hendrix hommage.

The bearded receptionist notes a 20€ tip for Stella and shakes his head at the question where the signorino Kim with the heavy glasses came from.

“Can’t give that information out, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And apologies for the hassle at the start,” he goes through the wardrobe and picks out your coat, sorted under a sign reading Tavolo/Table 15. “The online reservation base is a bit wonky nowadays. With the music night. You’ve heard them play. It’s manic every time. The restaurant owner is a big, um, admirer.”

“Ah. I was already wondering. A rock band in the Dogaressa.”

“Yes, it’s bizarre. People love it. The concept. Always steals the show. And sorry for signorino Kim again, I really can’t pass on any data.”

It’s three past ten. Your ears still reel with Birdz and the Beez and Busan Namja when you plop down on the neatly prepared mattress. Even a quick refreshment pulling out wet wipes from your suitcase doesn’t seem to give you a feeling of rest. Don’t these magazines always say to take a shower before bed to sleep well?

Winding yourself out of the sheets and looking into the rather petite bathroom, you realize you need more than that. You do remember someone at breakfast mentioning the sauna downstairs, and the pool on the hotel rooftop. Given how hot the Gondola ride on the Canal had been in the morning, and how chock-full the Ristorante Dogaressa was, you opt for heading toward the roof with your bikini under a bathrobe. Beforehand, you take up the telephone at the fringe of your nightstand and dial in the lobby number.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N from room 406. May I ask— whether there still is access to the rooftop?”

A rather tired-sounding staff member, Gianmarco Ricci as he introduces himself, answers.

“It closes in two hours, same as the sauna. Not too crowded right now.”

“Excellent, thank you.”

“Bene, no problem, Donna Y/L/N.”

The large metal sign of Hotel Baccio with a raven emblem looms above your head while entering the rooftop area. As Gianmarco had informed you — the place is devoid of hotel guests. All around, the air is reasonably cool and leaves a tingle. Finally. The area is well-cared for as you expected.

You drop the bathrobe on one of the green canvas chairs lined up around the pool. The latter spans across a third of the roof and stretches out alongside the panoramic view opening toward the gleaming Doge’s Palace, taking a corner at the right end of the area. It’s a modern design, sleek, without ornaments.

While dipping your feet in, you still let your thoughts trail off to Jung Hoseok, then further descend into the tepid water. A rockstar in Venice. Wearing Willy Wonka shades. Singing about Busan and Bees in a high-brow restaurant. There are things even you can’t fathom. It’s fascinating. The air is lukewarm enough not to make your wet hair feel gelid. So soothing.

You swim toward the edge of the pool that dons a glass front. Beyond, the palace turns dim under its fading spotlights. Some tourists are still in the cafes at the harbor. One or two Gondolas glide into the bay as you watch. A drunk guy sings in the street. Italia, Italia.

Then, a splashing noise makes you flinch. It’s barely audible, but given the silence of the rooftop, it sounds disruptive enough. You turn to the left. It’s a silhouette parting the water, gliding toward the surface with its back turned to you. The light coming from the Hotel Baccio sign illuminates the body from the side.

A large scar divides two prominent shoulder blades, and plunges deeper down a sturdy, tan spine line. As if lightning had struck the skin. You recognize the signature right away. It is that of your most favored knife.

Frozen stiff, you see the man fully emerge and prop himself up at the edge of the glass front. Still, with his back facing your direction. He puffs out twice, ribcage heavy. So naked and isolated in the clean lines of the pool design, the silhouette looks massive. You can tell that he’s working out. Huge arms. Toned, palpable trapezoids. He lets a hand rake through his hair, backwards, taming the wet strands.

You move from the edge of the basin toward the center.

And swim over.

“Um— Mister? Hello!”

“Oh!”

The silhouette turns.

It’s nice to see the signorino’s chest a little more bare.

“That’s a coincidence. I thought we lost each other in the crowd!”

“Yeah, 600 people or more in there. Nice to see you again! Same hotel!”

“I went back earlier, it was hard on the ears. I never knew you’d be, I mean, here!”

He shoves his hair back yet again. 

“Arrived yesterday, took a last minute flight from Ilsan. Yeah, pretty noisy, wasn’t it. The usual. Pool’s is nice to dive and rest.”

“It’s— And, about that. The concert. I wanted to ask you something. The music cut it off.”

“What do you mean?”

You feel your legs become a bit unsteady in the water now.

“It solved itself in the meantime, but, you probably didn’t remember. How do I put it.”

“Yes, no problem, go ahead.”

You take a breath deeper than Jung Hoseok must have done before performing the show.

“We know each other. It happened years ago.”

“What, we do? From, from where?”

He looks alarmed. You take another deliberately long inhale. Stay cool, Y/N.

“Fall 2014.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I was your surgeon. For the back.”

A moment passes. Judging by his wide-blown eyes, Namjoon does appear to realize. Your legs feel even more wobbly.

“You? You are Dr. Y/L/N?”

Two nods. 

“Can’t blame you. I had a mask on most of the time you saw me. And you were lying on your stomach.”

Which was probably a good thing with a handsome face like that. 

But it was just all work, professional, serious, focused, wasn’t it?

“Right. Yes, the, the examinations. I remember. 2014. Oh man.”

“I barely recognized you as well.”

“Glasses and all. Yeah.”

“You made it through the post-treatment alright the way it looks, how was it? Sorry, I. It was just the first thing I saw.”

“No, no. This is your job. Or is it, still?”

“Went into cardiothoracic two years ago. Settled there I guess. So, yeah. Kind of. Still the same branch.”

Namjoon strokes the back of his neck. The drunk guy on the street seems to have moved on by now.

“Right.”

“But I did enjoy neuro. I had many cases like you.”

“The pain, it never came back. After it healed. Took five months. Something like that.”

You hum. 

“It does take longer in some cases, I’ve had a colleague report eight months once with a sports injury, was similar to yours.”

“Means you did a good job. That was excellent. It feels very even. Kinda crazy.”

“Can I? If you uh, want to.”

“Oh, sure!”

You close the distance. He turns.

That scar. Covered in droplets of water. You place your hands between his shoulder blades. Press a little with the lower part of your palm, glide it over his spine.

“It is.”

“Even, yeah?”

“Your reflex was normal, too.”

“I told Doctor Park. My life would have been fucked. Without your hands. Was too dumb to recognize you, I’m very sorry.”

You retreat your hands all too fast, and he shifts back.

“Maybe it was better it was now. You could enjoy your evening. I really liked their outfits, by the way.”

“Damn, I should have taken you to the meet and greet,” he says, teeth half grit. The look on your face turns incredulous.

“The what?”

“I got the book signed later on. Took the flight just for that, I got cards from a friend.”

“Oh, neat!”

“I just, hope you had a nice evening as well. Was a bit rude to disappear, that was shitty. I’m dense as shit for a teacher.”

So he still teaches. You knew it. Some things never change.

“No problem, the crowd was all over the place. And we’re here now.”

“Still can’t believe it. Honestly. How’s the clinic nowadays, how are you?”

Letting go of the scar, you swim back to where you were. His eyes are luminous now.

“Well, uh. Enough that I can take a long vacation in Italy and my patients are still in good hands. You know the team. Park is still around as well.”

He nods, smile attentive.

“That sounds good.”

“He says I’ll like Rome, he was there in 2017. But I think I prefer Bologna. It feels cozy there. We travel to Siena in two days as well. You’re headed home to your students?”

“Flight goes next week. Monday afternoon. Korean Air from Milan. Nice cathedral. But busy at the airport.”

You puff out, all too familiar.

“Take your sanitizer and a scarf.”

“Yeah, hate flying. Always get a cold two weeks after I arrive.”

“Sleep before, drink enough, take a ginger capsule. And you might wanna do some exercises for your back. It’s a long flight.”

“Looks like I get a cold with good reason,” he laughs, “I’m clueless.”

“If you want to, I can show you some exercises and stuff.”

“Really? Just, unpaid? This is your vacation.”

“If I don’t care about my patient’s health without the payment involved I shouldn’t be a surgeon. Salary is just for my groceries and that. Most of my colleagues don’t get this. Defeats the purpose of the whole thing.”

Namjoon laughs even more.

“That’s why Park thinks you’re Houdini or something. And, the exercises, that sounds cool.”

“We could practice here for a minute if you don’t mind. Water has more resistance to train, it’s perfect. Hydrotherapy is powerful.”

“True. Why not. Unless you’re exhausted.”

You shake your head. How could you be. With him here. 

“Wide awake if you ask me. Ready if you are.”

“Okay, uh. Yes, then. What do I do?”

You position yourself at the pool’s fringe with both arms propped up.

“It’s similar to how when you work out, this way.”

Slowly, you let both of your legs ascend backwards. Namjoon watches intently, then takes on the same pose. However, his legs lift only two thirds as high.

“Need a hand?”

Namjoon huffs.

“Kinda.”

Although hesitant, you steady yourself next to him, lift him by the hip, gently. He doesn’t skip leg days as you now come to see.

“It’s more difficult since you’re tall. Keep the tension in the lower back now.”

“Okay— ah.”

He groans out twice. 

“Hurts?”

You let go of his hip.

“No, no it doesn’t. Just, need a moment, I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong? Is it the back?”

Namjoon looks sweaty now. Panicking.

“Need, my robe, I apologize. Just a moment.”

“Hm?”

His face is blank.

“Will be right back. I forgot something.”

When he tries to turn upright, hasty, and brushes against your stomach with his crotch, you understand why. 

No need for you to even look down. 

He backs away so fast, you can’t do as much as blink.

“Shit, oh my god, shit! It wasn’t my—!”

Your tone becomes much firmer.

“Hey. Namjoon! Calm down. It’s something normal.”

“I’m sorry, it just, I didn’t want to bother, I...!”

He backs away further.

“I know which nerves go where and what they do, Kim.”

“That was creepy of me, I’m so sorry!”

Namjoon already scurries to get out of the pool once more, grabbing at the slippery edge twice without finding proper hold.

“It wasn’t, just, stop!”

His movements freeze. He glides off the edge.

“It wasn’t?”

Yeah.

“You’re very attractive. And, and I like you. I have no problem. Anatomy is my job. Calm down. You’ll hurt yourself like that. I don’t have a problem with it. Okay.”

He looks shameful now, one hand reaching down to shield himself. However, what was hurried motion a second ago, is now the deer in headlights.

“Really?”

“Yes. How can I lie. I know your body very well already. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Just say what’s on your mind. You’re the one with a fucking boner yet you’re making it hard for me. Metaphorically.”

A tinge of a shy smile blends into his embarassed expression.

“I uh, I think. Um.”

“Finally he says something! Thought he’d never do!”

“You are attractive, too. I hope I’m not rude, but—”

“Hardly. What do you want to say?”

“Uh...”

“My god Namjoon, don’t act like a teenager. We’re adults, we know each other. Seen you naked on the operating table three times and, goddammit, five times full frontal in the preperations.”

“Just thought, you’re really, sexier than ever. And your hands— I, actually, never remembered you like this at the clinic. 2014, I mean. I was really. Blown away right now. It’s been so long.”

You have to chuckle. ‘Sexier than ever’. Well, alright. Time to deliver that line.

“Surgeons age like fine wine. Cause we don’t drink it.”

Namjoon tilts his head back in a cackle.

“You know what it does on the inside.”

“Yup. You got it.”

He exhales. Looking more relaxed, at least. 

“Only thing I got right today. Gosh.”

He lets go of the pool’s edge entirely. You cross your arms.

“So you wanna owe up to that you liked the touch or not?” 

“What?”

“Maybe you did make it hard for me. Just, literally.”

“Not metaphorically I’m sure.”

“Oh indeed?

“Yeah. I guess.”

Now you’re the one laughing. Namjoon seems awfully bashful in his corner of the basin. You nod your head toward the exit. 

“Which one of our hotel rooms makes a better fucking, patient Kim?”

“Hah?”

“Can’t jizz up this pool, can we. Gianmarco would have a breakdown.”

He seems to gather himself a little more now. Nevertheless, he sweats.

“Patient care... is supposed to be in the doctor’s office.”

“I have no view on the Doge’s Palace or something.”

“Really?”

“Nope. As I said. The salary is for groceries. And the tour guide did a shitty booking.”

And you’d rather spend your money on the Dogaressa where people like Namjoon are, who are you kidding. 

“Then I have good news. If you make house visits for patients.”

“Oh, truly. Sure do.”

“You’ll enjoy the evening.”

At least you can scrub off the chlorine scent there with hotel-provided shampoo, yet the bathroom is equally mediocre as yours. But the glass facade beyond the bed showcases much more than just the palace itself. You can see the Dome, the Biblioteca, people coming from the Piazza San Marco, the Ponte, the Museo Diocesano. 

And Namjoon. Rubbing down his spiky hair with a towel and slipping a condom on. You hang up your bathrobe at one of the wardrobes where his unlaced Oxford shoes stand and join him on the bed. Against the light of the city, he looks even more sculpted. The heat and throb between your legs doesn’t lie.

“Doc on a Date, huh.”

“Pretty much.”

“Very much inclined for the Birdz and the Beez, who would have known.”

Namjoon barely has the condom on that he has to grin again.

“Okay. If you can do something with that cardiotho—something.”

“Cardiothoracic. Heart and lungs.”

“Both going pretty wild over here.”

“No problem, Mister.”

You pat the large pillow at the head of the bed, embroidered with the Hotel Baccio raven emblem. He reclines.

“Good thing I don’t have to see you all ventral nowadays, you know.”

“Too vertical to be prone tonight, I’m sorry, Doc.”

“Y/N.”

Namjoon rubs his face with both hands and sighs out.

“Damn, Park mentioned it once. Never realized. Y/N, right.”

“Don’t sweat it. Can we safeword?”

“Safeword is, I don’t know. Rome.”

He’s paid attention. 

“Milan for slow. Bologna for okay. Verona for faster. How about that.”

“And Ilsan. For please don’t go.”

You freeze. The look in Namjoon’s eyes is different. 

Much more gloomy. Or is it serene? You feel your heart drop. 

“Don’t say that, don’t, don’t remind me...”

“It’s not for you,” he shakes his head twice.

“Hm?”

Namjoon points toward his chest.

“It’s a reminder for me. Will make this count, Y/N. I’ve been dumb all evening. Gotta do something right for once.”

“Don’t pressure yourself.”

He frowns.

“Not with this opportunity. You stitched my life together. You did so much.”

The guy on the street starts singing again. Your fists clamp at either your knees.

“It was a car accident. And my profession. You don’t have to repay me with sex. What counts is you’re healed. Okay.”

The last Gondola passes the Hotel on the Canal now. Namjoon’s expression has turned grave.

“Maybe, maybe you’re right,” he rustles in the sheets, sits up.

“We can just sit here and talk about your students. Don’t think you owe me anything. Seeing the scar was what satisfied me.”

Another lie. But what can you do. He was right about Ilsan.

Namjoon reaches down to peel the condom off. It flops down on the nightstand crumpled and unused.

“You can look at it,” he bends forward just enough for the light of the palace to shine across his back. “As long as you want. I’m just a mess.”

You lay both hands on his shoulders. The shadows they cast are deep. Goosebumps form on his arms.

“Don’t hate yourself, Namjoon.”

“I’m ruining your evening, I’m stupid.”

“You’re just... maybe, awkward. There’s a difference. But I can’t blame you, okay. It’s alright.”

“You have to, I’ve been rude to you all day.”

The palace outside looks twice less radiant now. You clench your fists harder now, thinking it would not make you feel the sweat.

“We didn’t meet for five years. Caught you off guard, that’s it. Rude is when you do it deliberately.”

“The result is the same. I’m very sorry. I just bother you.”

Your voice turns more mortified.

“What?!”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t? I just said I like you fifteen minutes ago. And I don’t think that changed!”

“Don’t say that, look at me. I’m just a burden for someone like you. I’m not good enough. I don’t deserve anything of... this.”

The words take a long time to register in your mind. Your neck feels as if it’s about to burst.

“Joon! Get yourself together!”

“But it’s true.”

The singing on the street abates.

You throw yourself on the other side of the bed, rip open the nightstand’s upper drawer. Namjoon looks more than startled when you throw a condom packaging at him. It slips through his fingers and lands on the sheets.

“Put it on,” you point downwards. He picks it up, still unsure.

“Y/N?”

“I said put it on. Fuck you, Kim Namjoon. Fuck you, and your endless bullshit. I’m tired. I’ll bloody prove you wrong. Move it!”

Namjoons hands are too hasty to tear the wrapping open, so you take it from him and do it yourself. He squeaks when you roll it down on him.

“You believe it when I screw it into your brain? Stop talking shit. Looks like it’s not you who has to be the rude one.”

“I, I!”

“You’re right, you are a dumbass. Lie down.”

“Okay!”

Namjoon falls back into the pillow fast. You mount him faster, index pressing down on his chest.

“And now, be damn honest. And give me a whole sentence. Can you take a fucking and say you deserve it?”

His voice becomes even squeakier.

“Take a— yes! I mean! Deserve? Are you sure about this?”

“I see.”

You grab hold of Namjoon’s bathrobe that lies folded beneath the bed and remove its fabric belt.

“Is it okay you do me a favor and bite on this, you need to shut up. First, you talk crap, second, Gianmarco’s gonna call us up in two minutes if you can’t control your voice. We’re in a damn hotel, not the restaurant with Hoseok on stage.”

“Sorry, doc. I’m just rude and a prick.”

You roll your eyes.

“Pipe down, bite or not?”

You crumple up the fabric of the belt into a palm-sized ball. Eyebrows raised. Gaze fixed.

“Bologna.”

“Then open your mouth now.” And he does. For you to stuff the gag in. “Tap the mattress for Rome.”

“Mhm!”

“I like you better that way. Whiny patient. Or is it that,” you pause, then listen to any activity on the corridor. Then continue, “you like being so damn degraded?”

The igneous look in his eyes is all too telling. You’re getting hornier by the minute.

“I’m hitting more than one nerve today, am I. You’re acting so strange. Is it really that? Is it—”

The nightstand phone ringing so disturbingly loud makes both of you flinch so hard that the bed frame vibrates.

Gianmarco.

“Fuck!”

Without thinking, you pick it up in an instant. A nasal, but charming voice resounds.

“Ciao! Sir, this is Roberto from the kitchen service. You told us to ring back later, after you went to the rooftop? You’ve booked for special diet.”

You look at Namjoon wide-eyed. He just stares right back.

“I, I did, yes. I mean, my husband did. Namjoon. For us. What is it?”

“Oh, this is Donna Kim? It says single room here on the form.”

“I’ve booked another room. We’re, uh, currently divorcing. This is complicated.”

“Mamma mia! I’m sorry to hear that. We can still arrange the special diet for two as you said, the cook will know.”

“Right, right. Um. Just a second, Signore.”

After covering the speaker with a pillow, you fumble at Namjoon’s mouth to get at least half of the fabric out.

“What on earth, Joon! This Roberto guy wants something with a special diet! What the fuck!”

Namjoon leans forward to whisper in your ears as good as his gag permits.

“Vege—tarian!”

“Oh gosh, of course. Oh my god. Roberto?” you lift the pillow, grab the phone again. “Are you there?”

“Yes, Donna Kim? Is everything alright?”

“Vegetarian diet for both of us.”

“Noted. No problem! The buffet opens at seven. Call at half past six if there’s anything else you need.”

“Alright!”

“Good night!”

“Good night, Signore!”

You hang up, sigh out. Namjoon tugs the rest of the belt out of his mouth and chuckles. Either of your breaths go times as heavy now. At least the bed frame has calmed down.

“And I thought it’s Gianmarco ready to kick us out.”

“Yeah. Bad timing for Roberto. You made him call you that late, anyways?”

“Kind of, he was busy and—”

You yelp when the phone violently erupts with another loud ring. 

This time, Namjoon, after almost tipping over the alarm clock on the nightstand with his arm, grabs the speaker.

“Yes? Kim here?”

The familiar pitch resounds.

“Ah, Signore! I’m sorry to disturb you again.”

“No problem.”

“I didn’t ask for any allergies. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Hazelnut, and no milk, please.”

“Hazelnut, no milk. Okay, that should be it. Grazie!”

“Good night.”

“And I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Roberto. We’ll get through. See you tomorrow.”

The phone clicks back into its hanger. Namjoon collapses backwards into the pillow.

“Fuck, man.”

“This guy is gonna send me into actual heart surgery if he goes on like that.”

You nestle about your hair, the phone now all the more in the corner of your eyes.

“He probably will. He’s from Genua. These people are a different breed.”

“I don’t think a house visit was the best idea. Your room,” you point to the glass window, “has bad as shit Karma.”

Namjoon puts the belt aside.

“Should we go to your suite?”

“No, I have another idea.”

“Oh?”

“Grab your robe.”

You slide from the bed, check the watch on the wall opposite to the bed. Almost eleven.

“Okay, but where are we headed?”

“Downstairs. Grab a towel from the bathroom.”

“What, to the lobby? A towel?”

“To hide your boner. Come.”

The small bench of the sauna is less rough on either of your knees after you spread out the towel. A lot less. One quick gaze toward the wooden door ensures that the lock is still in place. Namjoon notices and his thrusts go invariably slower. 

“You alright Y/N?” he asks. You look back across your shoulder to meet his eyes.

“I think I’m enjoying the evening.”

“This has better Karma, you mean. Maybe it’s Feng Shui.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “And Joon.”

“Yes?”

“Your hip.”

“Oh!”

“Keep on moving. Don’t talk, you fuck. I want more dick. Verona.”

You grab hold of a board at the end of the bench, allowing you to lean forward better.

“Okay, Doc.”

He brings his pelvis forward to shaft you down on him. The small oven in the corner puffs out another cloud of steam while you moan out through gritted teeth. To your luck, to your pleasure, and even through the chaos of the last minutes — Namjoon is still erect. 

Holding onto its dear life, the condom’s seam dances up and down on his girth while he pumps into you, curving closer to your cervix, but not quite coming on a tangent to it. You press your hip back on him to see how he reacts. Judging by the choked noise, you might as well have started bouncing on him way earlier. A continued, gyrating arch, and you can feel him wind inside of you. The oven swirls another portion of clouds into the air while the bench creaks a bit.

“Wish they had a mirror here,” you huff out. “To see your scar.”

“They probably have one in the Museo somewhere across the street.”

A faster bounce on him. 

“You’re not just an idiot, you wanna become a burglar as well, huh. Grab my waist.”

He does. With the added support, you can let go of the bench with one hand and reach between your thighs. Circling in two fingers right in between. 

And so, his thrusts become shallow — again. 

“Y/N.”

“What is it now.”

“Do I not satisfy you? Because you’re rubbing your...”

“Can’t put it inside someone else like you do. Nature’s ways.”

“What do you mean?”

“A dick’s just a grown long clit. Never read a pregnancy book?” 

“Pardon?”

“We all start with one. I need to send your ass to Dr. Park’s new clinic department.”

“No, no... You misunderstood. I just mean, I want to please you, Y/N.”

You slide off your two fingers and seize the board with both hands again.

“No problem, rub away. Bologna.”

“Does it not feel good when I penetrate you?”

“If you talk nerve cells, there’s not much in there. Party is in the front.”

His hands disappear from your waist.

“You don’t feel anything?”

“Fool, of course. You’re quite big,” you wiggle your hips. “But not as much. As I said. Rub away. Makes it better.”

His voice drops stern. The oven stays still. 

“Rome.”

“What!”

You feel Namjoon slip outside of you. 

“If it’s not good by itself and you have to rub to make it better, it’s just... of no use!”

You sit up on the towel to face him. 

“Joon, I didn’t mean it was ‘bad’. I just said I want dick two minutes ago.”

“And ten seconds ago you said it could be better,” he reaches around his base and shoves the condom to the front, then glides it off entirely. “And before, that you’d rather see my back. Twice, even.”

“Joonie, that was nothing against you. I just don’t have a prostate inbuilt there, okay. And the scar. I just like seeing it, that’s—”

“It was. I’m just a burden again. You don’t have to ‘prove me wrong’. I don’t want that. I wanted a normal date and sex to make you feel good.”

You wonder how on earth since quarter past ten he didn’t manage to kill his own boner.

“Man, you suck.”

“I told you.”

“Because we can’t enjoy having sex for a damn blink of an eye without you talking shit. Tons and tons. The irony? First your Ilsan thing, now this. One time you say you make it count because we have no time, next moment you put yourself down and ruin the atmosphere. One time you say nothing, and suddenly you drown me in words. You make no sense! Where’s the damn gag?”

“I left it in the room, I’m sorry.”

“For fuck’s sake. Why are you suddenly like that? Where’s that guy from Table 15? I thought we could just have fun like that! I thought we’d fit together! Didn’t we, back then?”

“I don’t know. Back then is not what I feel now. I wish... I could please you.”

“Good, then we flip that around. I do the put-downs. Not you. You bury yourself— here.” 

After chucking away the condom from the towel at the expense of hotel sanitation and hoping not to forget picking it up later, you get up from your knees, then lean back, opening your legs toward him until he scoots closer at your beckoning. “Is that better, you little shit?”

The bench creaks again. Namjoon fumbles at your thighs.

“You know that I prefer dessert.”

He does. Who else orders an extra large portion of ice cream with seasonal fruit for music night. 

“Now you can talk as much as you want to, teach. Jesus Christ. You’re more complicated than Roberto and our divorce combined. Come on now, this is Verona. Practice some fucking vocabulary.”

As the little digital board at the door indicates— only a dozen minutes left until the spa closes. You realize that Namjoon’s tongue is more eager than his cock. As are his pillowy lips, delivering both suction, kisses, cushioning, lubrication. The towel has wetted through anyways, so you don’t care. He keeps on dipping in his tongue far with your hands tracing across his spine as low as they can wander. The rhythm of his jaw is pliant. You feel his breath brushing on your clit up close. Oh shit. A spill of gritted curses drops from your lips. 

You dig your nails into his shoulders. His bulging arms. His hair. His neck. Hard. Why use one knife when you have ten at hand. Works wonders. He licks faster. The heavy throbbing in your core makes the drum skills of Justin Jungkook seem vastly insignificant. ‘Rowdy’ Jin would be envious of the electric current zapping out your brain and making your legs tremble around Namjoon’s bulky torso. Maybe it’s Venice. Maybe you haven’t handled your patient properly. It’s the only explanation you have for him acting up in such a weird way once things turned sexual. The things that exercises do. He does know which of your nerves go where and what they do.

The steam keeps on infusing the room with chamomile fumes and some last hotel guests tap along the corridor outside in their flip-flops, past the lock firmly in place. They’re headed toward the Kneipp water-treading basin at the entrance of the spa where they gather. While Namjoon, marked down and ruined as he is, licks and nips away with his chin dripping, the last jolts of a climax bringing your core into a clench, you hear them trot up the exit stairs in the distance. Good timing. 

His back is too slippery to give your legs a place to cling to, so all you can possibly do is rest them over his clawed-at shoulders which are, thankfully, wide enough. One last deep inhale of the steam before the oven fades out. He kisses your labia, then reclines, nodding towards the condom that he goes to pick up. You can barely stand up and gather the towel. Please you indeed. Milan does have a nice cathedral. 

Do not translate, repost, or modify my work. © 2017-2019 submissive-bangtan. All rights reserved.

[kirigaya-art]

First Time

I deliberated a lot with myself before posting this. The death of an animal is a key event but is not described. Please be careful.

***

Simon

“Baz?” I asked.

He looked up, startled. It was rare to catch him off-guard, so I took a moment to appreciate his raised eyebrows (both of them for once) and the small “o” of his mouth.

He recovered quickly. “Were you going to ask me something, Snow?”

I grinned. Some part of me liked hearing him call me by my last name. Sure, it was strange for a boyfriend, but it made it feel like more than snogging. Like our old bickering with a pleasant twist.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked, pointing to the book in his hands.

He glanced down at it, and a bit of colour reached his face (which was as rare as surprising him. Maybe the two events were correlated). He turned the book so I could read its title.

Vampiric Tendencies.

“Is that the one Nico gave you?” I asked.

He pursed his lips and nodded.

I smiled. He was still so quiet about it, even though Penny and I knew. After years of hiding it, I wasn't really surprised. Still, I hoped getting a little more information on it all would make him less closed off. (I always found it helpful to have things explained logically to me in therapy, step-by-step. It helped me work through things more easily.)

“Mind if I read over your shoulder?”

He paused, looking down at the book. Back up to me. He shifted his body so his back was facing me, propping his legs up on the stretch of the futon, and rested his head on my shoulder. I giggled and put a hand on his hip, leaning forward to read.

Chapter 1: Turning

“Oh!” I said, surprised. “You just started?”

He nodded again.

“I thought you got this a week ago.”

He cleared his throat. “I guess I was scared to start.”

I squeezed his waist, and he laughed. It sounded a bit forced, but I didn't push him.

Chapter 1: Turning

Before a vampire is a vampire, they must be Turned. The process is painful and can be traumatizing for the victim, literally killing and reanimating them. The Turning can only be achieved through an existing vampire's bite with extended fangs. There must be enough venom to travel to the victim's heart. If the vampire attempts to drain the victim, thereby drinking their own venom-- which is harmless to already-Turned vampires-- the victim will be unaffected.

As we kept reading, I couldn't imagine Baz going through the painful processes described, especially at only four or five years old. It only gave me more reason to respect him.

Every few minutes, Baz glanced back at me to check if I was ready for him to turn the page. It took me about half a second more than him, but he waited patiently. If we had still been in school, he would have made me cry with his teasing already.

Eventually, he turned the page to reveal Chapter 2: Awakening.

“Do you want to take a break?” I asked.

“No, it's alright,” he murmured. “I'm not tired.”

I played with the belt loops on his trousers as I read.

Chapter 2: Awakening

Once a vampire is Turned, their new instincts and abilities will manifest. If the victim was Turned before puberty, they won't awaken until then. If the victim is older, they will awaken immediately on gaining consciousness from the Turning.

“Puberty?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Baz hummed in agreement. “I figured it was something like that. An age or maturity rule.”

I grinned teasingly. “Don't tell me. You noticed your first chest hair and a second later your fangs popped.”

I expected him to blush or argue with me. He ducked his head, looking a bit paler than usual. “Something like that.”

My smile fell. “I was just joking.”

He worried his lip between his teeth thoughtfully.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” I asked hesitantly.

He sighed and closed the book on his thumb so he wouldn’t lose his page.

Baz

I would never forget that day. In some ways, it messed me up more than being Turned-- at least I couldn't remember being bitten very clearly, since I was so young. But this…

I was fourteen. It was the summer after fourth year, and I was on top of the world. Snow was even more of a moron that year, somehow, and sometimes I even forgot how crushing it was to love him.

That morning-- June 8th, bright and golden and the epitome of summer-- I woke feeling refreshed. I sauntered to my wardrobe, in no hurry to pick something out. I had nothing to do, no chores or homework or Snow to annoy me. So I took my time. I eventually decided on a nice dress shirt, button-down and clean white. It breathed easily and went well with practically any pair of trousers, so I indulged myself.

I lounged about my room for a few minutes, reminding myself that it was, in fact, my room-- all mine, no whinging about “your side” and “my side.” I practiced a few spells I'd been studying that week, successfully changing the patterns of my bed curtains several times. I considered leaving them rainbow-striped, but I thought that was pushing it. I settled on plaid and waited for my father to throw a hissy fit when he saw how badly it clashed with the Victorian era decor in the rest of the room.

I could smell breakfast, so I stepped into the dining hall. My father was sitting at the head of the table. He was dressed as poshly as ever, even though I knew he didn't have anyone to see or anywhere to be. No one else was in the room. Daphne must not have been awake yet, and if Daphne wasn't awake then magic knows Mordelia wasn’t awake either.

I walked up to the table, standing directly across from my father. I adjusted the cuffs on my sleeves, just barely quirked my lip up in a faux smile, and said, “Hullo.”

My voice cracked.

Neither of us spoke, the awful sound of it hanging in our ears as we stared at each other, red in the face. Or rather, he was red in the face-- I suddenly couldn't muster a blush. Either way, my eyes were quite wide.

“Um.” Somehow, it was less awkward before I'd spoken. “I-- I'm sorry.” Crowley, it wasn't like me to stammer. “That is--”

My teeth exploded. Because the universe hates me.

He gaped, his expression a mix between horror and fear.

I wasn't sure what to do at first, one hand clapped clumsily over my lips to try and hide the new knives fighting their way free. I nearly opened my mouth to say something else, but considering how well it had gone for me the past two times, I just clamped my jaw shut, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Finally, I turned and ran from the room.

The moment the door closed behind me, a weight I hadn't noticed lifted from my shoulders, and I realised I'd been holding my breath. For a millisecond, I was confused as to why, but something in my stomach rumbled to life, and I was nearly sick-- not that anything would have come up, since I hadn't eaten breakfast.

My stomach was happy to let me know that breakfast wasn't the only thing I could have sunk my teeth into.

I dropped my hand from my mouth, clutching the front of my shirt. The hunger was more than just hunger. It was like I was being destroyed from the inside out, like if I didn't give in and eat something, I'd be devoured instead. The heat of it licked at my insides, and for a moment I panicked that I'd be burned alive, crumbling to ashy remains from starvation alone.

“Basil leaf?”

I looked up and met Mordelia's questioning gaze. My stomach rumbled again. I turned the other way and ran.

I skidded down the halls of the mansion, searching desperately for an exit as far from the bedrooms as possible. Finally, I spotted a set of doors at the end of the East wing. I threw myself down the hall, practically flying through the air. Please make it. Please make it.

I flung the doors open, and the left one made a horrible crunching noise-- it was later replaced after becoming stuck several times. I nearly tripped coming down the steps, and caught myself on the guardrail before slamming the doors behind me. Now that I was outside, I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore, and they were hot on my freezing skin.

I ran out into the forest. I’d never done it before, but I didn’t have time to stop and think. I pushed past shrubbery and branches, stampeding through the immense space. Under the canopy, everything took on a green hue.

After a few minutes, I slowed to a jog, panting. I glanced around and found a few pairs of eyes looking back. The animals must have been scared off by my frantic stampeding about, but now that I was slower and quieter they started to poke out their heads from trees and tall grass. I was surprised at just how many creatures lived there-- deer, rabbits, squirrels, seemingly dozens of types of birds. They watched as I moved towards a small clearing ahead, but stayed at a significant distance.

I stepped out into the clearing and wiped a few tears from my chin before they fell. The sun was at just the right angle to blind me, and I squawked, throwing a hand up. I started crying harder, ducking my head.

It was then that I finally let myself think about what was really happening. Here I was, out in the woods around my house, with a mouth full of fangs. I wasn’t sure why they’d come out, or why now, or how they would go back to normal. My heart skipped a beat-- what if they never did go back to normal? Surely vampires-- because that was what I was, a vampire, a monster-- didn’t always go about with their fangs out. But really, that was the issue, wasn’t it? I didn’t know what the fuck I was meant to be doing.

I fell to my knees, squeezing my eyes shut. What if I couldn’t figure this out? What if I could never go home, because I’d be so overtaken by hunger that just seeing a human would make me lose it? What if I really did kill someone?

Something brushed against my knee, and I jumped, eyes flying open. A small white rabbit sat in front of me, its fluffy cheek pressed to my tear-soaked trousers. I cracked a smile, hiccuping as I leaned down to pet it. I hesitated before slipping my hands under it, gently lifting it. It didn’t struggle or hop away, just waited patiently as I raised it to chest level.

The rabbit seemed sent by Merlin himself-- a little companion to sit with me when I felt most alone. Its fur was soft on my rough palms, and it was so quiet and calm, and it fit perfectly in my hands, and it tasted so sweet--

I froze mid-swallow.

Part of me-- a large part of me-- wanted to scream and cry and throw the poor thing straight across the clearing, to get it as far away from me as possible. But I recognised that if I did that, I’d have killed in vain. As awful as it felt to continue, I wasn’t going to waste its sacrifice, not when it had come up to me so willingly. Not when I’d already committed the worst possible crime.

It took me nearly an hour to recover after I’d finished, sobbing to myself. I stood with shaking legs and turned myself around. I had no idea where I was, since I’d never been into the forest before, but I would be sick if I stayed there any longer, so I walked in the direction that seemed right. After another half an hour, I stumbled up to the East wing doors.

I was a lot more sluggish now, not throwing open the doors but gently pushing them and peeking through the gap first. I had to fight a bit with the left door.

I lurched down the halls, unsure where exactly I was expecting to go. I supposed I didn’t need to go back and eat breakfast, though I wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Either way, I’d lost my appetite. The best thing, for now, seemed to be heading back to my bedroom. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. And a shower wouldn’t hurt. I sighed, reaching for the doorknob.

“Basilton.”

I turned to face him on instinct and immediately regretted it when I saw my father’s expression contort.

“Your shirt.”

I looked down and had to stop myself from retching. My shirt wasn’t drenched per se, but I’d made a mess. The blood seemed even darker against the white fabric. It was generally splattered across, but there were also two clear lines down the front. I was confused at first, then reached up and swiped at one of the corners of my mouth with the back of a hand.

“Oh,” I whispered. I looked up again and met his eyes.

He stared me down for several seconds. Then he turned his head, unable to keep looking.

I waited for him to call me a murderer, or ask if it had been human, or kick me out of the house, or set me aflame.

“Wash up before dinner.”

Simon

    I gaped, mouth hanging open. He wouldn’t look at me, still staring at the book’s cover. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say something. Really, what was there to say? I’m sorry? But it wasn’t my fault. That’s awful? He knew that already.

    “Thank you,” I decided.

    He started a bit, looking back at me for the first time since he’d started recounting the story. “Thank you?”

    “Thank you for… trusting me enough to talk about something so personal.”

    He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Thank you for listening.”

    I smiled, despite everything I’d just heard. “I’m always here for you, love. You know that, don’t you?”

    He sat up, turning to face me. He leaned close and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “You mean it?”

    “Of course,” I whispered. “I love you. No matter what.”

    His smile was pained. “Even if I’m a monster?”

    “You’re not a monster.” I took his hands in my own. “You’re just a boy.”

[psycho-slytherin]

Less 2

Your boyfriend promised he’d drink less.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Yoongi x Reader, Policeman!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Angst

<–– Prev

|mlist|

The gun goes off with a loud BANG and the recoil makes the firearm clatter to the floor, your trembling hands too weak to grip it properly. In front of you stands Yoongi, your boyfriend, your love, the man to which you’ve dedicated years of your life– and he sways, and he falls to his knees, the look on his face one of amusement and yet utter betrayal as the dark red stain on his shirt begins to spread outwards. You gasp– you’ve really shot someone, you’re a– “Murderer.” Yoongi spits out the word as though it’s poison on his lips. His breaths are unsteady and ragged, his shoulders are slumped, one hand behind his back while the other clutches his chest… but he managed to stare with eyes that seem to see straight through you, and on to something beyond. “I-I’ll call the police!” You look to your right and see Officer Jeon groaning on the floor. He’s gone so pale he’s near translucent, but at least his radio is still clipped to his belt. You tug at it, pressing buttons frantically, please, please– “Jeon? This is Sergeant Kim. Can you tell me where the hell you’ve gone? Over.” You jump at the crackle, the voice, and the sudden silence. “Please help me,” you cry, pressing the same button as before. “O-officer Jeon has been stabbed, and there’s–” you swallow back a sob. “There’s another man, he’s been shot, I need an ambulance right away!” “Jeon’s been–?” the radio goes silent. “I need a location.” You tell him your address, and Sergeant Kim pauses for a second. “Okay, an ambulance is on its way. Are you safe, miss?” You look around. Despite the bruises on your face and wrist, and a few glass cuts, you’re alright. “Yes.” Officer Jeon appears to have passed out from shock or blood loss, but he’s still breathing. And Yoongi… Min Yoongi is slumping lower and lower by degrees, and you see beads of sweat forming as he struggles to stay conscious.

“How could you,” he coughs, blood dripping from his lips, and your heart shatters. You scoot closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Yoongi, you’re gonna be fine, I’m so sorr–” “How could you… you BITCH!” his bellow sounds only half human and you flinch, expecting another slap, a dead man’s last hurrah, but instead... “AUGH!” you scream, scrambling backwards. Yoongi had somehow clung on to his broken bottle and like an idiot, you’d let your guard down. Lucky he didn’t get any vitals, but as you look down at the gash on your inner thigh… is it your imagination or is there a lot more blood than there should be? Some faint wisp of information from your days as an ambulance technician escapes you. Inner thigh… and something about blood loss. You blink hard and press your hand to the wound, attempting to slow blood flow. Already your vision seems tilted, blurry, and blood is gushing through your fingers and onto the floor. “Nng…” The radio crackles again, and someone speaks, but it’s impossible to focus on their words. Black spots dance before you and you’re tempted, so tempted to succumb, Yoongi is all you have, all that’s ever mattered and now… You grit your teeth, woozy with pain. Now… he’s hurt you. “Hff…y/n…” Officer Jeon suddenly groans props himself up on his elbow and makes a grab for the radio. Even that minor movement causes him to gasp sharply in pain. “Lie down,” you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clutch at your leg, contending with your own agony. “Officer, I called… I called…” Who did you call? You can’t remember. your head is pounding, your thoughts are fuzzy, you’re gasping for air and you can’t fight anymore. This is it, Yoongi, you think as you slip away from the earth, as you drown in darkness, this is what you wanted, right? Funny how even in death, you give Yoongi everything. Light. Bright, painful. Painful. Yes. There’s pain. You feel it– angry, throbbing. Since when is death supposed to hurt? Are you still alive? Huh. 

“Ergh...” you blink hard, your eyes adjusting to the brilliant light.

“Oh, you’re awake. Let me call the doctor.”

“W-who...?” but it’s too late, whoever spoke has disappeared.

“Yoongi?” you whisper, unsure as to whether you want a response. Regardless, you get none, and as you look around you realize the IV drip and heart rate monitor attached to you mean that you must be in a hospital.

“Miss l/n?” A man in a white coat enters the room, consulting a clipboard. “Good to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Kim Seokjin, and–”

The door opens again and a man wearing a police uniform strides to your bedside. “Y/n. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, I’m–”

“Great. Sergeant Kim Namjoon, we spoke over the radio, do you mind if I ask you some questions about what happened?”

You shrink into yourself as the sergeant looms over you. “Okay...”

“Wonderful. Can you tell me–”

“Sergeant Kim, I understand that you want information, but she is first and foremost a patient and shall be treated as such,” Dr. Kim says icily.

“Of course, doctor, but one of my officers was stabbed and unlike Officer Jeon, y/n here is currently awake and I’m in need of answers.” You can see Sergeant Kim’s jaw working in an effort to maintain his professionalism.

“Her femoral artery was severed, multiple lacerations required stitches, and she suffered severe blood loss. You will get your answers after I am certain of my patient’s condition. Should you test my patience further, I will have you removed from this room.”

It’s as if the doctor has dropped a mic– his tone leaves no room for argument, and Sergeant Kim nods grudgingly and backs away.

Meanwhile, Dr. Kim takes your blood pressure, checks the IV, and generally makes sure you’re all kinds of alive.

“M-my leg...” you’re in a hospital bed, with your lower body covered by a thin blanket. “And Yoongi. Where’s Yoongi?”

“Your leg suffered the worst of it, we recovered several shards of glass from the wound before stitching you up. Your left femoral artery was cut, but you’re quite lucky– any later and...” he falls silent, but you understand. You finally remember learning this during your medical training: If the deep femoral artery is severed, you black out in thirty seconds and can bleed out in three minutes.

Any later, indeed. You draw back the blanket and gasp. Your leg is wrapped in thick bandages, and when you prod at your own flesh it feels almost alien. You draw back with a hiss of pain after a wave of agony hits you, making you nauseous.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you croak again.

“Dr. Kim, if I may?” the sergeant steps forward.

“Be my guest.”

Sergeant Kim flips open a notepad. “Y/n– may I call you that? You were found at the scene along with Officer Jeon Jungkook and a Mr. Min Yoongi, who had a record of multiple arrests for DUIs and altercations resulting in violence. Our records show he was incarcerated overnight after an altercation with a Mr. Jung Hoseok, who has not pressed charges. Officer Jeon did not notify his colleagues when he came to your house, but CC camera footage shows him leaving the station almost immediately after you and Mr. Min, at 6:48am. We received a call from you on Jeon’s radio roughly forty minutes later, at 7:33am. Does that timeline hold up?”

“Y-yes.”

“Now, we just need you to fill in the blanks, y/n. What happened when you got home?”

You hesitate. Yoongi slapped you. But if you tell the police, they’ll take him away from you– and some part of you can’t stand that.

You stare down at your bandaged hands. “Nothing- nothing happened.”

Sergeant Kim frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Uh...”

“We found the door had been kicked down. We’re wondering why Officer Jeon would choose to go to those lengths.”

“He was worried,” you blurt out. “About me. Um. Yoongi was being a bit aggressive, that’s all, and Officer Jeon was worried.”

“Aggressive? Did he hurt you?”

The bruises on your cheek and wrist shine like a beacon. Why are you acting this way? You tried to escape from Yoongi, that’s how this whole thing started. And now... what, now you’ve changed your mind?

What’s Yoongi done to you?

You take a deep breath. You’re the only one who can tell this story– you have a responsibility.

“He was slapping me around a bit, Officer Jeon burst in and helped me, but Yoongi snuck up behind him, he had a bit to drink–” a sob gets stuck in your throat as you recount the day. “S-stabbed him.”

“And then?”

I took Officer Jeon’s gun and shot Yoongi. He thought I wouldn’t, he trusted me–

In the briefest terms, you relay the events to Sergeant Kim, who scribbles it down on his notepad. After an eternity, he nods. “Well, if what you said is true, you’re not in any legal trouble– you clearly acted in self-defense.”

Another police officer knocks, pokes her head in, and tells Sergeant Kim that Officer Jeon has woken up.

Oh, thank god, he’s alive.

“C-can I see him?”

Both men turn to you in surprise.

“Miss l/n, in your condition–”

“It would be against police protocol–”

“Please,” you plead. “I need to thank him. He saved me.”

A few minutes later you’re being pushed down the hall in a wheelchair. You told Dr. Kim that it was unnecessary, but he insisted.

“He’s just in here.”

You soon come face to face with the policeman. He sits up in bed when he notices you. “Miss l/n.”

“Call me y/n,” you say. “You look a lot better, huh?”

He laughs dryly. “Anything’s better than that.”

“Officer Jeon–”

“Jungkook,” he supplies, and you smile.

“Jungkook, I wanted to thank you. And apologize. It’s because of me that you’re injured.”

He thinks for a second. “And it’s because of you that I’m alive.”

You both fall silent.

“The actions you took were brave,” Sergeant Kim says from the doorway. “No jury in their right mind would convict you, if you’re worried.”

“Convicted? Convicted of what?”

Sergeant Kim looks from you to Jungkook. “After a point-blank shot to the heart? Convicted of... well, of murder.”

“Y/n. Y/n, wake up, wake– what’s the matter with her?”

“Her heart has been having to work overtime to cope with the blood loss, it’s no wonder... we should’ve kept her in bed. I need her hooked up to an IV with type O negative blood bags, stat.”

“Y/n, please...” and the voice is a whisper in your ear. “Wake up.”

“Yeah, wake up.” Yoongi prods you with an empty bottle.

“You’re dead,” you tell him.

“’Cause you killed me. It ain’t my fault.”

You think about it. “Are you sure about that?”

His gaze darkens, the mellow expression turns murderous and he swings the bottle, letting the glass connect solidly with your jaw.

“Ungh!” You cough weakly, tasting blood, and your jaw feels like it’s on fire. Yoongi, however, isn’t done and he wields the bottle like a weapon, striking every inch of you within reach, emphasizing each word with a blow.

“Fucking bitch...” Thud. “You think it’s my fault?” Thud. “You’re the one that stayed, day after day after fucking day.” Thud. “You don’t got the right to be mad.” Thud. “You deserve to suffer.”

“Stop it,” you cry.

“Doctor, can you please tell me what’s going on with her movement? A seizure?”

Yoongi smashes the bottle against your collarbone and you scream in pain. “Stop!”

“Possibly... but we saw no sign of head trauma.”

“Stop!” You bolt upwards to find yourself back in the hospital bed, sandwiched in between the blanket and a plain white towel.

“Wha...”

Dr. Kim pats the towel. “You were sweating so much, you were soaking through the sheets– we were trying to keep you comfortable.

“Th-th-th-” you can’t get the words out, you’re trembling so violently. The doctor notices.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” he asks in concern. You shake your head no. Lie.

You turn to Sergeant Kim, who’s leaning against the wall with a stony expression.

“What happened? You were moving, jerking around in your sleep,” he says.

“Bad dream.” I killed him, I killed him, I killed my Yoongi...

A knock. “Y/n?”

After Yoongi’s attacks on your psyche, Jungkook’s voice is a ray of light. He rolls in on a wheelchair and grips your hand in his own.

“Are you alright?”

You smile gratefully. “Better now.”

“Jeon, you’ll need to file a full report on this incident, understood?” the sergeant says.

“Yessir.”

“The both of you will have to stay overnight,” Dr. Kim announces. “If all goes well, you can be out of here in a week or so.”

“In the meantime, if they’re going to keep flitting about to see each other, can we move both of them into one room?” Sergeant Kim sighs. "Officer Jeon, what are you doing here? Are you flirting on the job again?”

Jungkook blushes. “I’m not flirting, I’m not on duty, and I wanted to see how y/n was doing. Sir.”

“I’m okay. I’m stronger than I look,” you say. Aren’t you?

Yoongi’s voice echoes loud and clear in your mind. “No, you’re not.”

A/N: Hiya! Hope you enjoyed this continuation of Less. As always, all types of feedback are really appreciated, so feel free to comment or drop me an ask with your thoughts!

[lovelydob]

Let’s Run Away

Jimmy x Virgin!Reader

Author: lovelydob

Words: 4.1K

Warnings: FIRST THINGS FIRST - I DO NOT CONDONE THIS. DO NOT RUN AWAY. ESPECIALLY WITH A BOY. Okay? NSFW SMUT. Oral (girl receiving), protected sex. A little fluff and angst too.

A/N: Thank you to @ninja-stiles because she has helped me through this whole thing, and I couldn’t have finished it without her. Jimmy is extremely hard to write. This is also the first virginity smut I’ve written, and I’m still not 100% with it BUT I wanted to post it for you guys anyways. So, enjoy!

I pulled my phone out from underneath the blanket, checking to make sure it hasn’t gone off without me realizing it. I wasn’t very surprised when it just showed the time again, three minutes since the last time I checked.

It’s been awhile since I’ve heard from Jimmy, one of my best friends and closest people to me in the world. He hasn’t answered any of my texts, which is uncharacteristic of him since we usually talk non-stop.

Jimmy and I have always been close, sometimes our connection feels more intimate than just your typical friendship, but I’m uncertain if Jimmy feels the same way. I’ve always been too nervous to bring it up and make myself look like an idiot or put our friendship in jeopardy.

Unfortunately, we have been through a lot of hardships together, especially involving our home life and relationships with our parents. In my case, my mother and I can never see eye-to-eye, and we can never agree on anything which causes too many fights and arguments. In Jimmy’s case, his dad has been under a lot of stress since Jimmy’s mom passed away and he takes it out on him. It doesn’t help that Jimmy misses her as well.

We’ve always been there for each other.

I pick up my phone again, unlocking the screen and the date catches my eye, making my heart sink and it all makes sense. Two years ago today, Jimmy’s mom passed away. I frantically  scroll through my contacts until I spot his name, running my finger over the screen a few seconds before I click the call button. I lift the phone to my ear, listening intently for a disruption between the rings to signal him picking up.

That, of course, is not what happened as the familiar sound of his voicemail is the first thing I hear before I hang up.

“Goddamn it, Jimmy…” I mumble to myself, standing from my bed and slipping my jeans and a tee shirt on, tossing my phone into my back pocket before making my way out the door.

The temperature outside was uncharacteristically chilly, the cold breeze gliding over my skin and forcing me to hold my arms against myself to stay warm. Jimmy’s house is only a few blocks from me, so I make it there within twenty minutes. I notice Jimmy’s car the only one in his driveway, the one that’s usually beside it is gone. I decide to walk up to the front door and knock.

“Jimmy, please answer if you're in there. I'm worried about you. Please?” I beg after I'm outside for several minutes without an answer.

I almost turn around and give up until I hear the faint sound of the lock and a door open, a sullen looking Jimmy right behind it. His eyes have bags under them, along with a tear-stained face and a red nose. He didn’t have to say anything before I envelope him into my arms, hugging him tightly as he wraps his arms around me and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, making my heart swell in my chest.

After our embrace, Jimmy leads me to his bedroom, shutting the door after I walk through the threshold. I plop down onto his bed, fiddling with a few frayed threads on my jeans.

“Where’d your dad go?” I ask, glancing over to him after he sits beside me. He shrugs and lets out a deep breath before answering me.

“I don’t know… Bar, I’m assuming. I don’t really care.” He admits as his gaze downcasts.

“You shouldn’t be here alone, he should be here with you. And I care, Jimmy. I’ve always cared about you. Why were you ignoring me? I would have been here sooner if you would have just told me you needed someone, I’m always here for you. You know that.” I say, grabbing ahold of his hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance.

“I know, Y/N, you’re my best friend but I don’t always like pulling you into my problems and being some sort of burden on you. It’s not your job to make me happy or to be there for me.” Letting go of my hand, he stands up and starts running his own hand over his head, letting his other rest on his hip in front of me. It’s quiet for a moment while I process his words.

“You’re right.” I say, standing from the bed and grabbing his hand he’s currently running through his hair and placing it back into mine. “Jimmy, you’re right. It’s not my job to be here for you.” His eyes meet mine in the dim light of his bedroom, his brows furrowing as he waits for me to continue. “It’s my choice. I choose to be here for you, because I love you. And because I know you would... no, you have done the same for me. And I can only imagine it’s because you love me too.” I finish, his mouth parting once he hears the words escape my mouth.

Silence falls on us once again as we look at each other in realization, realizing what this would mean for us if his feelings mirrored my own. I bite my lip in panic as the silence lingers, starting to question my choice of words and if I made the wrong assumption. He lifts the hand that was on his hips to my face, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind my ear in a comforting manner.

“Let’s leave.”

I’m startled by the words, shaking me out of his gaze as I try to collect myself.

“O-okay. Um, we can go back to my house if you want to get out of here.” I offer and he quickly disagrees with me, shaking his head no.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Y/N, you’ve always been the best thing in my life. Actually, you’re the only positive thing in my life right now. I do love you.” He whispers the last part, almost inaudibly. “So, let’s leave. We can be together, we don’t need anyone else besides each other.” He states simply, like it all made sense to him.

“Jimmy…” My heart hammers in my chest as I watch him scurry around the room, collecting some clothes and a few essentials in a duffel bag. “Jimmy, I don’t think you’re making a very good decision. We can’t just leave. What about our parents? What about money? Where are we going to stay?”

All of these questions come out in a panicked manner, flooding the room with anxiety, and it didn’t take long for Jimmy to catch on. He turns around to face me, dropping the duffel bag on the floor with a thump. He takes my hands into his, lacing his fingers between mine.

“Y/N, we’ll be okay, I promise. I have some money saved from last summer, and I know where we can stay. We’re both eighteen, our parents can’t do anything if we just leave.” He says, calming my nerves a little as he speaks.

“I don’t know, Jimmy. It’s just really fast. I don’t even have any of my things.” I contemplate after drawing in a shaky breath. I imagine what it would be like to be with Jimmy. If this is even something I am willing to just throw myself into.

“Do you trust me?” Jimmy questions, urgency in his voice.

“Yes, I trust you. I always have faith in you.”

“Then come with me, please?” He looks at me pressingly, patiently waiting for an answer.

I think it over once again, and realize I have absolutely nothing to lose. Jimmy is the most important person in my life, and I have a feeling if I let him go without me, I’ll never see him again. Or at least not for a long time. I can’t blame him for wanting to leave, there’s nothing here for either of us.

“Jimmy, you’re crazy.” I tell him and his face instantly drops, disappointment suddenly washing over his features. “But, I will go with you.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief before cupping my cheeks in his hands and pushing his lips into mine. I’m shocked for only a moment before I melt slowly into the kiss, a small whimper leaving  my mouth once he tilts his head to envelope my mouth further, my own lips following suit. He wraps his arms around my body before we pull apart, his forehead now leaning against mine.

“I love you so much. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

He laces his fingers with my own, a gesture I could quickly get used to.

“Are you ready?” He asks, turning toward me.

“Yeah.”

He presses his lips against mine again quickly before we are making our way out the door and to his car. We slide into the seats and shut the doors, throwing our belongings into the backseat. I hear the jingle of his keys before the engine roars to life, Jimmy quickly backing out of the driveway then making our way down the road.

A few minutes of silence pass as I fidget with my hands before Jimmy takes one into his own, rubbing small circles over it with his thumb. He lifts my hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss on it, comforting me instantly.

“We’re not going very far, just a few cities over. Maybe a half hour away. There’s a motel there we can stay at until we can get on our feet, and if worse comes to worst I have a few friends out there who would help us if we needed it.” I just nod my head, taking in everything that has happened in the past hour or so and how it’s going to change my life forever. It reminds me of a quote one of my English teachers had told us a year or so ago, “Often, our most important life decisions come down to a single second to be made.”

We pulled up to what looked like a run down motel, the car halting to a stop as Jimmy put the car in park, telling me he will be right back as he jumped out of the car and shut the door. I watched him jog up to the lobby, making his way through the set of doors and leaning over the counter as he booked us a room.

“This is crazy…” I mumbled to myself with a smile, my stomach bubbling with butterflies from the uncertainty of what’s to come. It was exhilarating.

JImmy jogged back to the car a few minutes later with the card key to our room and a beaming smile on his face.

“We have a room. The lady was nice, she even cut me a deal.” He smirked again, making me roll my eyes in return.

“You do know why she cut you a deal, right?” I asked him, my lips curling into a smile from his obliviousness. Jimmy’s face turned to one of confusion, obviously asking me to continue.

“It's because she thought you were cute.” I stated simply, folding my arms over my chest.

“No way.” Jimmy let out a chuckle next to me, his cheeks now burning a bright crimson color as we pulled up to the parking spot, Jimmy cutting the engine soon after.

“Oh, yes.” I insisted, unintentionally throwing in too much certainty in my voice.

Jimmy stopped laughing and I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip from embarrassment before turning toward him, a devious look already on his face.

“You think I'm cute?” He asked, his lips breaking into a smile.

I could feel my own cheeks burn now as my eyes widen at the question. Of course I've always thought Jimmy was attractive, secretly keeping him as a crush in my head for years. Am I used to coming out and saying such things to his face? Absolutely not.

“I don't know, do you think I'm cute?” I ask, giggling.

“I asked you first, but nice try.”

I took a deep breath, just deciding to get it over with. Rip it off like a band aid.

“I've had a crush on you for a few years now.”

Silence hung between us for a few moments.

“So, is that a yes?” Jimmy asked, earning himself a playful punch to his shoulder from me.

“Ow, you always hit hard.” He joked, rubbing the spot on his arm.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” I put my hand over his with an apologetic smile.

Jimmy's eyes met mine once our hands touched, his fingers easily slipping between mine. I could feel the air in the car thicken from the intensity between us, a static charge pulling us together in the moment and it just feels right.

I lean in toward his inviting expression, his tongue darting out over his lips as his eyes scanned over my own. He pulls me into him suddenly, and our lips finally meet again after what feels like forever. The kiss is deeper this time; it holds more passion and sensuality, our lips locking slowly together as our tongues dance around each other and explore the new territory.

My head starts to swim from lack of oxygen, my brain telling me to breathe. I ignore it until Jimmy pulls back suddenly, his breathing shallow now as it fans over my face. His hand tightens around my own, our eyes lost in each others until a car alarm sounds off in the background, shaking us of our intense moment.

“Ready to see our room?”

Jimmy pushed the creaky door to the motel open, leading me into the dark room before searching for the lamp switch and illuminating the space.

I look around, my eyes landing on the single queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. My body flushes once I realize we’ll be sharing a bed. Jimmy notices the blush creeping over my face as I stare at the bed in front of us, causing him to jump in to explain.

“The price would have been doubled for two beds. I'm sorry, I should have asked if you were comfortable with it first. Is that okay? I can change it if you want.”

“It's fine, Jimmy.” I giggle as he explains.

“You sure?” He questions again as he sets our stuff on the floor, making his way over and grabbing my hands, looking into my eyes. I nod as a blush runs across my cheeks from his intense gaze before I suddenly feel his lips on mine again, soft and slow. His hands move to my hips and mine to his neck, running my fingers through the short hair there. We involuntarily pull apart moments later to inhale the much needed oxygen we were deprived of.

“Hey, I have a surprise for you.” Jimmy smiled as he knelt down to rummage through his bag for a second before pulling out a bottle of wine.

“It was my mom's. She used to drink wine to relax and I thought it would help calm your nerves too.” He explained as he fished around his pocket for an instrument to remove the cork.

I smile softly at the gesture, taking the bottle from his hands after he pops it open with his pocket knife.

“We don’t have any glasses, so we’re going to have to do this old school.” He laughs.

“It’s okay. Thank you Jimmy, you’re really sweet.” I admit as I take a swig, wincing at the taste but swallowing anyways before handing the bottle back to him and he does the same.

We sit on the bed, random conversation taking over the silence of the room for a while. I set the now half-empty bottle on the table before I lean into Jimmy’s side, making myself comfortable as I start to feel the fuzziness of the alcohol make it’s way through my body.

“You know, as a kid I always thought wine would taste better than it does. Sweeter, like grape juice or something.” I giggle.

“You know, I really do love you.” He spoke, making my chest tighten with emotion once I hear the words.

“I really love you, too.” I whisper before looking up and into his eyes full of sincerity.

Between the alcohol and the sexual tension between us, my body was in a frenzy. Which was then amplified once his lips were on mine again, the kiss much more aggressive this time around. His arms wrapped around me gently as our kiss deepened, goosebumps forming all over my body from the intimate interaction.

Our bodies led the way as hands and lips explored the new territory of each other, my heart racing in my chest with every touch and kiss. Jimmy attaches his lips on mine once again after leaving multiple love bites on my neck. The straining bulge in his pants pushes against my most sensitive areas, making the warmth in my panties spread as the arousal pools there.

There's a buzzing in my head as the caresses and kisses get more needy, and neither of us have any plans of stopping soon. The way he's grinding himself on me has me a whimpering mess, pushing my clothed hips up to meet him in search for more friction.

Jimmy answers my whines by applying pressure directly where I need it with the palm of his hand, a moan is muffled by his mouth once it passes my lips.

“Jimmy?” I break away from the kiss to get his attention. His questioning gaze on me only a second later.

“I don't want to stop.” I explain. “But I'm nervous.”

Jimmy's nods his head before his fingers brush against the side of my face to push a few stray hairs behind my ear.

“It's okay to be nervous, just tell me at anytime if you want to stop and we'll stop. I want to make sure you're comfortable with this first.” He says lowly.

“I want to. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to be with except you.”

“I feel the same way.” Jimmy starts to kiss me again but pulls away suddenly.

“Do I need to grab a condom?” He asks, a blush rising in his cheeks. I nod my head in response.

“If you have one, I'm not on birth control.” I admit, a blush rushing to my cheeks.

He places a soft kiss on my temple before he jumps off the bed, returning a minute later with a foil packet in his hand.

“As much as I don't want to be ‘that guy’, I thought it would be better safe than sorry, so I grabbed some from my closet before we left.” He explained, setting it next to us on the bed once he's hovering over me again.

“Thank you.” I breathe as he starts kissing down my neck again, melting away all of my insecurities.

A sudden boost of confidence runs through my veins before I wrap my fingers around the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the ground, mine following soon after. His lips trail down my collarbone and and to the valley of my breasts, his mouth working around the fabric of my bra before he’s reaching behind me to rid me of that garment also.

His eyes, lust-blown and dark, run over my bare chest before he’s suddenly attaching his lips around one of my hardened buds. Small mewls leave my mouth from the new and intense feeling building up inside of me from his mouth and tongue running over the newly discovered area. My hands run along the curve of his back until I slide them around his waist and meet the button and zipper of his pants, quickly undoing them both before he disconnects from me and slides them down his legs and discards them on the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

“I want to try something.” He whispers huskily as he reaches for my jeans and slides them down my legs gently. I involuntarily close my legs as he turns his attention back to me, my heart pounding in my ribcage from thought of being only in my panties in front of him.

“Don’t.” He breathes before placing his hands on each knee to pry my legs apart. “You’re so beautiful.”

My face flushes at the compliment, but was quickly distorted into pleasure once his fingers swipe down my clothed cunt, collecting the juices seeping through the fabric from me and onto the pads of his fingers. I hear a groan fall from his lips before my panties are pulled from me to join the rest of the clothing on the floor.

I steady my breathing but only for a moment before Jimmy's head is between my thighs and his mouth on my pussy. I yelp from the sudden intense pleasure, my body jolting from the foreign feeling.

Jimmy presses tender kisses on my bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around it and sucks gently, my fingers instinctively running through his short hair to hold the back of his neck.

His tongue darts out and grazes my clit a few times before I lose it, the pressure that is built up inside of me is released as my high washes over me, numbing my mind and body all at once as pure bliss takes over. Jimmy helps me down from my high before rolling back on his knees and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was that okay?” He asks with a hopeful look on his face.

“Well, it was probably the best thing I’ve ever felt, so yes.” I chuckle.

“Okay, good. I want to make sure you’re warmed up first so you’re more comfortable.”

I hear the crinkle of a foil packet and crack my eyes open just enough to watch Jimmy remove his boxers. I marvel at how beautiful he is right now, but also internally panic when I notice his size.

“It might hurt a little, but it should start to feel better once you get used to it. We can stop if it hurts too much, just tell me and we’ll stop, okay?” He reassures me.

I nod my head in agreement and he rolls the condom over himself before hovering over me and placing his length against my entrance, making me moan loudly from the contact. He coats himself in my juices before pushing gently, slowly inching himself deeper inside of me.

“Oh my God, Y/N.” Jimmy groans against me.

My body tenses at the pain, but starts to relax once Jimmy is fully seated inside of me for a moment. I push my hips up to meet his to tell him I’m okay to continue. He pulls out and enters me again, making me wince.

“It’s okay. Here.” Jimmy connects his lips with mine, helping me find something to focus on while he pushes himself in me gently again.

After a few more thrusts, my legs are wrapped around him and my nails are digging into his back from the overwhelming feeling of him stretching my walls. His hand roams down to my nipple, his fingers tugging and pulling on the sensitive skin and I moan in pleasure.

I feel my high start to build up from the rhythm of his movements, needing only a little bit more to throw me over the edge once again. I compliment his movements with my own by meeting his hips, the sound of his hips snapping into mine drowning out my thoughts. My clit rubs deliciously over him each time our bodies meet, sending me into euphoria after only a few more snaps of his hips.

Jimmy intertwines his fingers in mine and pushes both of my hands into the mattress next to my head as we fall apart together. Our kiss is interrupted as we swallow each other's moans, Jimmy’s member twitching inside of me as I clench around him as we come down together.

The last thing I remember is feeling his heartbeat in his chest as we both try to catch our breath before he pulls himself from me and discards the rubber into the trash next to the bed. I feel him rolling beside me and wrapping his arms around my body before drifting off to sleep, replaying the night in my head before I’m woken up with a loud pounding on the door.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Gone (BTS Jimin) (Angst/Fluff)

Hey guys! So, I know that I haven’t really uploaded this week. I’m sorry about that. There are three reasons for that: 1. Finals Week starts next Friday for me so I have a shit ton of homework and presentations. 2. I have a concert this weekend so I have had rehearsal every night this week. I’m excited because I’m performing a Taeyang song, but I’m also in charge of the playlist and in five songs in all. 3. I’ve been working on something new. I’ve never written a fanfiction on here so I’m interested to see how this goes. It will be in three parts. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! 

So, in this fanfiction you have been dating Jimin for a while. Because of that, the members that will be seen the most in the story are Jimin, Jungkook, and V. Jungkook is a very integral part of this story so please, understand that. The other members will be in it, or course, but the main focus are Jimin and Jungkook because they play major roles in the story. Technically, this story is Angst, I guess but not super angsty. This first part is based around you attending one of their concerts to surprise Jimin. You’ve been snuck in by V and Jungkook. I don’t want to ruin the surprise as to why it’s angst so let’s just get into this shall we?

This story was based on a dream I had and encouraged into a story with the help of: @mintyoongiisjungshook and @winteryethereal. Thanks guys!

      With the help of Jungkook and Taehyung, I was able to acquire a Section One ticket and a backstage pass to one of their concerts. After two years of dating, I wanted to surprise Jimin. My work is so demanding that I rarely get time off, which makes dating an idol a little easier.

     I left my hotel early this morning, sending my luggage to the address and room that Taehyung sent me. Because of this, I’m relatively close to the front of the line. At the moment, my headphones are firmly in my ears and I am blasting music. Loud cheering interrupts my thoughts. Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin, being the troublemakers that they are, are casually strolling passed the waiting people with their escorts. My text message ringtone startles me. 

     Flash your flashlight a few times so we can see where you are the message from Taehyung reads. I roll my eyes but comply, opening my flashlight app and hitting the button a few times. Tae seems to be distracted, but Jungkook notices me and meets my eyes. 

     He pulls down his face mask and makes a derpy face at me, causing me to laugh. He winks at me before pulling his mask back into place and continuing on his way. Jimin, engrossed in whatever conversation he’s having with Tae, absentmindedly throws his arm around Jungkook as they walk away. Jungkook glances back and me as they walk inside.

     I can’t help but admire Jimin. They have been on tour for a long time now, so I know Jimin has been begun to miss me a bit. He was struggling more with each Skype call. That’s why I’m doing this. I wanted to lighten Jimin’s load, if only for a little while.

     He was happy when he was with his members, but that bright smile faded after the concert ends. The members have expressed worry about him overworking himself. I’m hoping to get him to relax for a day or two. It physically pains me to see how exhausted his face is getting. It’s hard to comfort someone through a computer screen.

     After a while, the line moves and we’re let inside the concert hall. As I move to find my section, someone bumps into me. It’s a tall guy with dark brown hair. 

     “I’m sorry, but would you happen to know where this is?” He asks quietly, showing me the section listed on his ticket. I point him in the right direction before heading to my own section. Not long after I get into my section, the concert starts. The boys are energetic and the performance is amazing. 

     At some point, Taehyung manages to spot me in the crowd. He nudges Jungkook and gestures at me, both of them sharing an excited look. Taehyung had been expressing a lot of concern for Jimin lately, so he had practically begged me to come today.

     One thing they didn’t count on was Jimin noticing me in the crowd. At the very end of the concert, during the last few songs, Jimin crouches at the edge of the stage near where I was standing. As he looked out at all of the faces in the audience, I could almost feel the moment his eyes landed on me.

     His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. I can tell that he wants to come closer, to really see my face, but Taehyung notices and discreetly pulls him away. Jungkook makes a weird hand gesture, it takes me a moment to realize that he wants me to head backstage. I manage, barely, to make my way to the backstage area before the last song ends. I wait impatiently patiently for them to get off the stage.

     The moment they step off of the stage, the room is thrown into chaos. The guys are being unmiced, and I can tell that they are exhausted. Jimin hasn’t noticed me yet, but almost every other member has. Rapmon and Jin look relieved at my presence, which surprises me a little. I guess they were more worried than I had previously thought. Jimin and I were going to have to have a talk if they’re all this worried about him. Taehyung rushes over to me as soon as he’s free, hugging me tightly.

     “I’m so glad you came! He’s gonna be over the moon when he sees you,” Tae says excitedly, his voice loud,” Jiminie, come here!”

     Jimin blots his face with a towel, running his hand through hsi hair. Taehyung practically throws me at him, giggling profusely. Jimin barely catches me, stumbling backward. When I look up, his smile is blinding.

     “You’re here! How did you get here? I knew that was you!” I can’t help but laugh at his babbling sentences.

     “I may have had some help,” I say, nodding my head toward the excited Taehyung and Jungkook behind him. Jimin turns to them, taking my hand tightly in his, and looks at his happy Dongsangs. 

     “Thank you,” Jimin says honestly before turning back to me,” How long can you say?”

     “I’m here until you leave for your next concert,” I brush some of the hair out of his sweaty face. 

     “I need to take a shower. Will you wait in the dressing room for me?” Jimin asks hopefully, almost like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. He runs his fingers through his hair again.

     “Of course. I’m pretty sure that those two assumed that I was staying with you anyway,” I nudge him away gently. He presses a quick kiss to my forehead before taking off.

     I sit on the couch in the corner of the dressing room, scrolling through the pictures and videos I had taken tonight. Of course, I had a lot of pictures of Jimin, but there were pictures of the other members too. As I looked through the pictures and deleted the blurry ones, I felt the couch next to me sink.

     “That’s a good picture of Hyung,” Jungkook motions toward the picture of Suga on my screen.

     “Thanks. I got a few good ones of you if you want to see,” I say, scrolling through my albums to find the folder of Jungkook’s pictures.

     A little while later, Jimin is done with his shower and we’re all loaded into a car heading toward the hotel. Jimin is constantly touching me, his fingers intertwined with mine. I couldn’t help but smile at his animated conversations with Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. I press a soft kiss to his knuckles. 

     At the hotel, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and I pile into one of the three rooms. It turns out that Tae had this all planned out. I was prepared to sleep on the floor, but Te volunteered to sleep with Jungkook, relinquishing his normal spot next to Jimin. We stay awake for a while, but Taehyung falls asleep and Jimin isn’t far behind him.

      “I’m not tired yet. I think I’m going to go to the hotel gym for a bit,” Jungkook whispers, trying not to disturb the passed out Taehyung.

     “Take a room key,” Jimin murmurs sleepily, curling up in our bed.

     “Okay, Hyung,” Jungkook grabs a keycard off of the dresser and soundlessly leaves. 

     I curl up with Jimin, savoring a night in his arms after so long apart. A small part of me wants to stay awake for a while longer to enjoy his presence, but his body heat and steady breathing are lulling me to sleep. In minutes, I am asleep.

     I’m awoken to early morning sunlight by Taehyung frantically shaking my shoulder. I look up at him groggily to see an expression of panic consuming his features. When he realizes that I am awake, he stops shaking me. Jimin is no longer in bed with me. 

     “Where’s Jungkook?” Taehyung’s eyes plead with mine, begging me to have the answer.

     “He wasn’t tired, so he went to the gym,” I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes as I answer.

     “He didn’t come back last night. Jimin went to see if he’s in one of the other rooms,” I’ve never seen Tae look so worried. My worry kicks into high gear as I grab my phone. They’ve probably already tried calling him but it doesn’t hurt to try again. It rings a few times before going to his voicemail.

     “Jungkook, where are you? Tae is worried about you. Call me when you get this message,” After I hang up, the guys begin to pile into the room, most of them still in their pajamas. Jungkook isn’t among them.

     “I tried calling him but he didn’t answer. I’ll get dressed and go talk to the management to see if they’ve seen him. You might want to call your manager,” I grab my bag and change quickly, heading downstairs with Hoseok.

     After an hour, it’s become glaringly obvious that no one has seen Jungkook. Their manager starts rounding up the rest of the boys, getting ready to take them to the police station. Jimin’s sad expression breaks my heart. His touch is soft as his fingers brush my cheek.

     “Stay here, please,” Jimin says softly,” Try to get some more sleep. I’ll call you if we hear anything.”

     I want to argue with but something about his expression stops me. I don’t want to cause him anymore stress. I don’t want to cause him more stress. I lace my fingers with just and squeeze his hand gently.

      “Okay. Please, just keep me updated,” I watch them leave before heading back upstairs to the room. I collapse on a bed, staring at the ceiling. There’s no way I can sleep when my friend is missing. 

     “My phone goes off, startling me. I sit up quickly, searching for my phone. I grab it from the table that I left it on. The incoming call is a Facetime call from Jungkook. I hastily answer. The screen is black.

     “Kookie? Where are you? Everyone’s worried sick,” I lean over the screen, searching for Jungkook. Slowly, light begins to filter in on screen. My blood runs cold when I see an unconscious Jungkook,” Jungkook?” 

     “I have your little friend,” A voice speaks, sneering the word,” I will send you a location. If you meet me there, I will let him go. If you call the police, he dies.”

     The call ends abruptly, his words still ringing in my ears. A few moments later, my phone buzzes with the address. I know that I should call the police or Jimin, but I don’t want to jeopardize Jungkook’s life. Against my better judgement, I leave a note for Jimin, telling him where I’ve gone. He’s not going to be happy with me and I know it, but Jungkook’s safety is more important. I grab my phone and a keycard, leaving the room.

     The cab ride feels solemn, but I’m not sure why. My hands won’t stop shaking. The address he sent me leads to a mostly empty parking lot. There are only two cars in the large lot. Once I leave the cab,  I can feel my resolve shaking. Maybe I should call Jimin. I open my phone, scrolling through my contacts to find Jimin’s. Before I can hit call, something strikes the back of my head. I crumble.

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!

[aya-chi007]

Pickpocket the Stars - Ch.2: Polite

AFF A03

    Yoongi sighs as she zips up the side of her skirt, taking care that her mint blouse is tucked neatly into it. Last day of work, have to make a good last impression. She laughs bitterly to herself, brushing back her bangs before picking up a small bow, clipping back her hair to keep it out of her face. She looks perfect, she looks normal, she looks employable, all of which she’s going to need since she’s going hunting for jobs after Jay’s finished with her.

    Grabbing a black folder from the nightstand, she hurries out of her bedroom, heels clicking on the laminate wood that spreads through her entire apartment. She has to get to the office and get this all over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.

    She steps into the hall, closing her door behind her and taking care to lock it. She’s had a couple break-ins while she’s been living here, she doesn’t want to make it easy for them. She slides her key out of the lock, slipping it into her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she turns, somehow managing to run right into someone.

    “Hey, watch whe-” she stop abruptly as deep, rambled apologies drown out her own voice. Frowning, she takes in the black slacks, the pressed dress shirt, a tie decorated with Pokeballs, before finally reaching the guy’s face. “Namjoon, right?” She asks.

    He nods sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Y-yeah. Sorry, I didn’t-”

    “Shut up,” she cuts him off, rolling her eyes. Her eyes drop from his perfectly styled hair to the messenger bag hanging off his shoulder. “Work?” she asks as she starts walking toward the elevator.

    In only a few steps, he’s already caught up to her. Damn, long-legged bastard. “Y-yeah,” he stutters, stepping into the elevator beside her once it arrives. He presses the ‘G’ button before straightening up. “Literature teacher at the high school uptown.”

    “If you’re working uptown, why do you live in this hell-hole?” Yoongi asks, not taking her eyes off the numbers counting down to the ground floor.

    Namjoon laughs, drawing Yoongi’s attention. He smiles, showing off his dimples. Dammit, he’s kind of adorable. “I’m broke as hell, so I thought it might be a good fit.” He smiles at her before looking away shyly to check what floor they’re at. “I just graduated last week.”

    “Oh, I thought you were younger than me,” Yoongi comments offhandedly, “I’m only twenty-one.”

    “Then I am younger than you.” At the confused glance, Yoongi shoots him, he clarifies, “I got my associate’s while I was in high school ‘cause of a program my school offered. I only had two years for my degree and did my certification while I was in college.”

    The elevator helpfully alerts them of their arrival to the first floor. Yoongi practically runs out, tossing a quick ‘bye’ over her shoulder, barely catching Namjoon’s ‘see you later.’

    Even though living in the worst part of town has plenty of downsides, one of the reasons Yoongi keeps living here is because it’s only a couple block away from where the office is located. It’s like walking through a real-life panoramic shot: the crumbling buildings and broken windows of the district she lives in fading into boarded windows and ‘closed’ signs’ until it gives way into the monochrome gray scheme that is downtown.

    Downtown never fails to be busy at eight in the morning. Horns blaring from impatient drivers; pedestrians bustling up and down the sidewalk in their pressed suits, briefcases banging against their knees while they walk; jackhammers drilling into the foundation of a construction site that seems like it’ll never be done. Over all of this noise, Yoongi can’t hear her heels click against the concrete as she walks up the steps into a modern-looking glass skyscraper.

    It’s like hitting the mute button on life. The only audible sound comes from the click-clack of her heels hitting the marble. It creates a sort of cadence that she marches proudly to, the sound echoing hauntingly around her as she makes her way to the elevator. If she was still into music, she might have recorded it, used it as a beat for a track.

    The familiar ‘ding’ of the elevator reminds her that those days are gone as she steps through the open doors. The plain black folder tucked under her arm holds a neatly typed resignation letter. She tries not to think about it as she watches the numbers inside the elevator climb. She enjoyed this job, liked the work she did. Now she has to find another one.

    Just before the lift reaches her floor, Yoongi smoothes down her blouse and takes a deep breath. She’s always stuck doing things she doesn’t want to do. When the doors slide open, she struts out into the office space, eyes flitting across the cubicles. She never thought she’d be one for the dull and mundane, but it seems like a paradise compared to doing Jay’s dirty work.

    Her eyes dart toward her supervisor’s office, but she turns to walk the other way. A quick glance to her watch tells her it’s five minutes after eight. Her confidence drops as she walks. It’s carpeted up here, she can’t hear her heels. She turns into the break room, which is almost completely deserted, save for one person, who’s busy pouring himself a cup of coffee.

    She really doesn’t want to do this. “Morning, Jimin,” she greets kindly, settling herself at the table where Jimin’s briefcase is set.

    “Good morning, Yoongi,” Jimin greets with a bright grin, brushing his tousled hair out of his eyes after his sets the coffee pot back onto its warming plate. In two quick strides, he’s sitting beside Yoongi, hands wrapped around his mug. “So…” he drawls, his embarrassment obvious by the slight flush across his cheeks. “What time should I pick you up tonight?”

    God, why does he have to look so happy about taking her on a date? “Look, Jimin, we need to talk,” Yoongi says, wincing when she catches the drop in his expression. “You’re a fantastic guy, you really are, and I would have loved to go on a date and see where things went. But the thing is…” she trails off, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t plan this far, oh god. She was expecting him to get angry, accuse her of leading him on then storm out, not to sit here and patiently hear her out. “I-I got a new job and I’m moving this afternoon,” she lies quickly. “I’m handing in my resignation today.”

    “O-oh.”

    “I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” Yoongi whispers, as if the gentleness of her tone will negate the harshness of what she’s saying. “They called last night with the offer and I decided to take it.”

    Jimin shakes his head, running a hand back through his hair. “No, it’s fine.” he tells her, “You’re doing what’s best for you and I respect that.” He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I just wish I would have had the courage to ask you out sooner.

    “Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty,” Yoongi murmurs wisely, resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you.” As she stands, she presses a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye, Jimin.”

    She walks out of the break room and pretends she doesn’t hear the sound of porcelain shattering in her wake.

    Once her resignation is safely in her former supervisor’s hands, Yoongi leaves. She doesn’t want awkward questions or well-wishes from people she’s never even spoken to. It’s a kind of forced politeness that shouldn’t exist outside of grocery stores. In a perfect world, it wouldn’t even exist there.

    Yoongi curses as she walks out of the manager’s office, loosening her school uniform tie. Yet another place not hiring. This can’t be happening, not now. She has a date to her senior prom, but no dress. Worst of all, if she can’t get a dress in the next two weeks, she’ll have to cancel.

    She walks out of the grocery store, slowing down at the sight of two men standing awfully close to one another, speaking in hushed voices. Carefully, she approaches them, trying not to let them catch her trying to eavesdrop.

    “-eed help,” one of the men is saying, glancing around frantically. “I’ve got sharks ‘n’ shit after me, he’s helped me before, I need to get in contact with him again.”

    The other man flips his shaggy hair out of his eyes as he chuckles, the sound sending goosebumps down her spine. “You know Jay’s always willing to give out favors as long as you’re willing to do what he wants.” He claps the man’s shoulder, muttering that he’ll get a call later.

    Once the first man has scurried off, Yoongi approaches the second man, her pulse racing excitedly. “Excuse me.”

    He turns to look over his shoulder at her, showing off his strong profile. “Yes?” He questions as he slides a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Yoongi watches him place one of the smokes in between his lips before speaking.

    “I need help,” she admits bluntly, taking a step closer to him. “I need a favor from whoever Jay is.”

    The guy freezes, the flame of his lighter going out as he removes the unlit cigarette from his lips and turns to look at her fully. “You’re a kid,” he says in a rough low voice, staring at her incredulously, “Jay don’t deal with kids.”

    Yoongi shakes her head, taking another step closer, lowering her own voice. “You said he’ll do favors for whoever is willing to do what he wants,” she reminds him, brushing her long, silky black hair away from her face. “I’m more than willing.”

    “Hm…” he studies her for a moment. “What’s your name, kid?”

    “Min Yoongi,” she informs him, standing up straight to make the most out of her petite stature.

    He nods, the corner of his mouth curling into a wicked smirk. “I’m Kiseok. I’ll talk to him for you.”

    Yoongi doesn’t look up at the sound of the bell ringing. She’s too immersed in a stack of pancakes covered in chocolate and strawberries to care about people watching right now. What does catch her attention is a familiar someone sliding into the bench directly on the other side of her table.

    Sighing in annoyance, she drops her fork to look up at her company. “Did he seriously send you to make sure I had resigned?” She demands, rubbing the back of her head. The short bristles of her silvery hair scratch at her palm almost soothingly.

    Kiseok just smiles at her. He almost looks exactly the same as when they met, except his jawline is sharper and his hair is shorter and actually styled. “It’s almost ten and you weren’t at his place yet. You know he’s not patient.”

    “Sucks to suck, I wanted breakfast first,” Yoongi mutters, picking up her fork again so she can go back to tearing into her pancakes. If he’s not going to comment on her going to a diner on the opposite side of town from Jay’s place, she’s not either. She doesn’t look up from her plate until she hears Kiseok laugh. “What’s so fucking funny?”

    “You,” Kiseok chuckles, shaking his head. “Look at you. Three years later and you’ve lost your sparkle, your willingness.”

    Yoongi grits her teeth. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, get the fuck out. I’ll be at his place after I finish.”

    He lets out a thoughtful hum before shaking his head. “Nope, I don’t think so. I have strict orders to drive you over there. You’ve already kept him waiting for too long.”

    She doesn’t say anything else, just scarfs down the rest of her food before waving over a waitress so she can pay.

    The atmosphere in the car is stiff and awkward. There’s some hip-hop album playing on the radio but Yoongi isn’t listening. She staring out of her window, trying to make a list of all the places she can’t go anymore so she doesn’t run into Jimin. It was bad enough to lie, it’ll be worse if he sees her again.

    Too soon, much too soon, Kiseok’s parking the car by the curb in front of that familiar gray house. “You know the way in,” he tells her with a sharp grin, “He’s waiting for you.”

    Yoongi just grits her teeth, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind her with as much force as she can muster. She can hear Kiseok’s muffled laughter as she walks through the gate. Again, she doesn’t bother knocking, just barges through the front door. This time, though, he’s not in the living room.

    Sighing, she walks back to the foyer so she can walk up the stairs to the second floor. If he’s not on the couch, then he’s…

    Right as she reaches the landing, the door to the study is flung open, followed by a body being tossed out. She sighs, stepping to the side as two familiar guys march out of the office, each grabbing an arm of the man on the floor. If he’s not on the couch, he’s dealing with potential clients. “Hyukwoo. Sunghwa,” she greets the two men dragging the unconscious body toward the stairs, nodding at them. More forced politeness.

    They nod back before they start their descent. Sunghwa glances back at her after a couple steps. “He’s not pleasant right now,” he warns her with a scowl. “Wonder who’s fault that is.”

    It’s rhetorical, of course it is. Yoongi rolls her eyes as she walks through the open door of the study. Jay’s cradling his head in his hands, elbows resting on the dark wood of his desk. To some, it would be a sign of defeat. Yoongi knows better, can see the tremors running through his arms, the way his shoulders are tense as a strung bow, ready to fire.

    Yoongi closes the door behind her softly and locks it before approaching the desk. His dark hair is falling out of place from where it has been styled. If she was a nicer, better, sweeter person, she would have brushed the hair back into place. Instead, she raises a hand and quickly, loudly, slams her palm against the desk.

    Jay curses, jerking back at the sharp crack that’s still echoing off the office walls. He looks around wildly before focusing on her, his eyes narrowing. “You’re late.”

    “No I’m not,” Yoongi scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “You just said come after I resigned. You didn’t give me a timeframe.”

    “Always a smartass,” Jay mutters, glaring up at her, though she can see him fighting back a smile. Ugh. “Did you do what I told you?”

    “Would I be here if I hadn’t?”

    He ignores her question. “Well, since you don’t have a job, I guess you’ll have to move back in,” he suggests. “Your old room is still free-”

    “I have money saved,” Yoongi cuts him off, glowering. “I have enough to make it a few months. That’s more than enough time to find a job.” She puts on a fake smile. “You know I prefer being independent.”

    “You mean you enjoy your illusion of independence,” he corrects her, smirking as he leans back in his chair, eyes trailing up and down her body. “Is your next job also going to require the cute bows and pencil skirts? ‘Cause I’ll be honest, it’s really fucking cute on you.”

   Embarrassment sends blood rushing to her face as she practically tears out the mint and black polka dot clip keeping her bangs out of her face. “Have to look the part somehow,” she mutters, finally dropping her gaze and slipping the bow into her pocket. “Can I go now?”

    “Sure.” Jay shrugs at her, though that stupid smirk she hates so much is still on his lips. “Just don’t be disappointed if you can’t get another job and can’t make rent.” He takes to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. “At least you always have a home here,” he offers again with a grin, pivoting to look out the window behind the desk.

    Yoongi sneers, her voice venomous as she fires off, “I’d rather die than live under the same roof as you again.”

    She watches Jay freeze, arms dropping by his sides before he’s looking at her. Not, not looking. Glaring. He stalks toward her, but she not going to back up, she’s going to stand her ground. She keeps telling herself that until he’s right on top of her.

    Stepping back, she shoots him a dark look, a vehement fuck off leaving her lips when he keeps approaching her. Finally, her back hits the door, leaving her to press against it to try to stay as far away from his as it will allow. Desperately, she throws a punch, trying to deter him. It doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t, she’s watched him work out, seen the strength he possesses that proves his physique isn’t just for show. He catches her fist easily, pinning her wrist against the door above her head.

    “You’d do well,” he murmurs as he grabs her other hand and slams it against the door as well. His other hand shifts so he has pressure on both her wrists. “To remember that can be arranged.” He’s angry, oh he’s so fucking pissed. But Yoongi’s always had a bad habit of fanning the flames.

    “Do it then,” she spits at him, “Make my fucking day.”

    He laughs at that, the sound as cold and dark as his heart, as his free hand comes down to brush her bangs out of her face. “Now why would I give you what you want?” he asks innocently, resting his forehead against hers. The action is so intimate, so familiar that Yoongi feels like she’s going to throw up. “Especially,” he whispers as he moves back, tilting his head so his lips are hovering over hers. “When you won’t give me what I want?”

    Yoongi doesn’t answer, keeping her eyes down so she doesn’t have to see the way he’s looking at her. It’s worse than anger. Jay smirks at that, cooing ‘good girl’ before pressing a kiss to her lips. She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look up until he’s let go of her and moved away. Once she sees his back is facing her, she turns immediately to unlock the door, yanking it open and practically throwing herself out of the door.

    She’s down the stairs in records time. She doesn’t remember if she passed by anyone on her way out or on the street. The next thing she registers is leaning against an alley wall, emptying the contents of her stomach. She coughs roughly, spitting out the last bit of residue in her mouth before straightening up. She has a mission now: go home, brush her teeth, go out and put in as many applications in as many places as she can.

    She’s not letting him win.