#also I finally found an opportunity to do that sweet sweet blinds lighting that I’ve always wanted to attempt

[pbchocmint]

I’m a month late lol but steddie @yearoftheotpevent april prompt: peace

[babymetaldoll]

Stargazing (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: No, but I needed some hardcore fluff

Summary: The team is “forced” to go camping, and Spencer finally decides to make “his move” on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader

Category: Hardcore fluff

Warnings: Zero

Word count: 3,2K

Masterlist

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-

It was the first time the BAU didn't argue Strauss's decision. She had walked into the conference room and explained to the team that the FBI had decided each department had to do a workshop related to teamwork and trust.

- "You will spend this weekend camping together. You will be part of a Team-Building Training Workshop"- Strauss wasn't excited about the idea of her best team wasting a whole weekend. But she was glad her department didn't have to do the activity. She hated camping.

- "Are you telling me we have to spend our weekend in sleeping bags, singing kumbaya?"- Rossi raised an eyebrow and looked at Erin, and she didn't move a muscle- "I'm out."

- "David, I'm not asking you if you want to do it. The whole team has to be part of this activity, that includes you."

- "Come on, Rossi,"- Prentiss smiled and tried to cheer him up- "It will be a nice change from catching serial killers for a weekend.

- "Really, Emily?"- Rossi crossed his arms on his chest and looked at Reid- "Hey, kid. How many dead bodies are found each year in the woods in the country?"

- "Over 2.543 last year,"- Spencer answered. And didn't stop talking, of course- "We can not be sure they were all serial killer related cases. The most common ways to die in the woods are drowning, car accident, and suicide."

- "Suicide it is."- David whispered. He knew it was going to be a long weekend.

Even when he wasn't a person who loved camping and outdoor activities, Spencer was excited to spend the weekend with the team, especially with (Y/N). His teammate, best friend, and secret crush. Ok, it wasn't really a secret.

Of course, everybody knew about Spencer's feelings. He never successfully hid them from the team. You didn't need to be a profiler to notice each time (Y/N) walked into a room, Reid's eyes would follow her, and his cheeks blushed. When they sat together in the jet, Spencer would always be too self-aware of his own movements. He would try not to move, especially when she had fallen asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. And when they were working on a case together, he would always cover her on the field, and he would make sure she was safe, even when the unsub was already caught.

He loved her. Even a blind man could see. Except for (Y/N), of course. Because according to her own words: "There's no way Spencer Reid is in love with me. He would never look at me that way. He is perfect, and I'm a mess. He deserves the perfect genius girl."

-

- "Ok, Romeo, this weekend is the perfect opportunity for you to make your move"- Derek and Reid were alone in the SUV on their way to the retreat.

- "Sure. Because there's no better time to make a fool out of myself than in front of all my friends in the middle of nowhere."

- "What's with the attitude, pretty Ricky? Relax"- Morgan frowned and put on some music, singing along for a moment. Reid looked at him and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

- "Ok man, picture this: you, your pretty lady, in the middle of the night, gazing at the stars together, alone in the middle of the forest. The full moon is the only light."

- "Who are you? since when are you a romance expert?"

- "Hey! I can be romantic!"

- "I've seen you get girls only by raising an eyebrow"- Reid argued, and he was right. It had happened once, but that was another completely different story.

- "What I'm trying to tell you is that you have the perfect chance to tell her how you feel during this trip"- Spencer was about to start debating that idea when Derek continued.

- "And stop saying she has no feeling for you!"

Reid bit his tongue and looked at the road. Neither of them said a word for the next couple of minutes. Until Spencer whispered

- "But she doesn't"

- "She does!!"- Derek nearly yelled

- "Why are you so sure?!"

- "Because she told Penelope she is in love with you!!"

The silence in the car was as intense as the red in Spencer's cheeks. Derek knew he shouldn't have said that, but he was tired of seeing his best friend's sad eyes each time he stared at (Y/N). Someone had to do something, and he knew neither of them would make the first move.

- "Are you sure?"- Reid's mouth was hanging open- "I mean, maybe she was joking."

- "No, she was honest. So please, this weekend, make your freaking move."

-

How could Spencer ever make his move? He had no idea. He didn't even have a "move"! But something inside of him felt a little more confident now.

That didn't show on the outside at all, 'cos during the whole day, he was more clumsy than ever. He dropped his coffee. He failed the first two attempts to set up his tent and nearly fell carrying logs for the fire.

He wanted to dig a hole and hid.

But (Y/N) didn't notice any of that. Not because she didn't pay attention, but because she was oblivious to any of those things. She just couldn't stop staring: He was wearing jeans. Spencer Walter Reid was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. (Y/N) thought she was going to have a heart attack when he got out of the car.

Sure, yes, she had seen him outside work in a more casual outfit, but nothing prepared her for Spencer's camping clothing. It suited him too well for his own good.

- "Hello? Anybody there?"- Prentiss waved at (Y/N). She and JJ stood in front of her, trying to catch her attention.

- "Jesus! you look like a schoolgirl today!"- JJ teased her, laughing- "Can you be more obvious?"

- "What are you talking about?"- (Y/N) tried to look all innocent and continued setting the logs for the campfire.

- "If Spencer wasn't so clueless about your feelings, I swear you two would be already married,"- Emily joked and helped (Y/N) with the logs. The young SSA just shook her head and tried to keep her eyes from Reid for as long as she could. She successfully did it for five minutes. That day's record.

- "(Y/N), hey"- he stood by her side, and she quickly stood up.

- "Hey, how are you doing?"

- "Good... you?"- she just nodded and smiled. She really was acting like a schoolgirl in front of Spencer- "Great... hey, I thought maybe tonight you would like to do some stargazing with me..."- Emily and JJ heard him and nearly squealed. They tried to look away, but it was impossible. They needed to know what was happening. Where was García? she was going to be so mad she missed that.

- "Yeah! I'm sure tonight we can see way more stars than on your building's roof like last time."

(Y/N) answered, smiling, thinking there was nothing more romantic than being underneath a starry sky, listening to Spencer talking about constellations.

- "Ok, kids,"- Rossi's voice stepping out of his huge camper interrupted them and forced everybody to turn around- "Let's do this trust thing we are forced to do before it's lunchtime. Maybe we can manage to go home early."

-

Of course, they weren't. The whole team had to work as a unit to fulfill a series of activities an expert team the FBI had hired forced them to do. Aaron thought it was unnecessary, considering they worked on the field together, and they trusted each other with their lives all the time. But he was also sure his team needed a break, and everybody could use some fresh air.

- "Great work, team"- Hotch hugged everybody and smiled when the whole activity was done- "I think we've earned a nice dinner."

- "Please don't tell me we have to hunt our food"- Penelope wide opened her eyes suddenly and looked at Hotch- "I can eat blueberries."

- "Don't worry, kids"- Rossi shook his head and pointed to his camper- "Anyone in the mood for a nice steak?"

- "I bought marshmallows for the campfire later,"- (Y/N) said and smiled- "You are never too old for some s'more."

- "Scary stories by the fire eating s'mores? I'm ten years old again"- JJ looked excited- "I need to do this with Henry."

- "Just don't tell him your "I'm scared of the woods because I found the camp director dead" story." - Derek said, smiling.

- "You freaked out!"- JJ chuckled, remembering how she had scared her friends a few years earlier while working on a case in the woods.

- "I need to hear that story!"- Emily said- "I bet it's no better than mine, I'm sure."

- "Battle of horror stories?"- (Y/N) smiled evilly- "You two have nothing on me."

-

The evening was fun and a little terrifying. Garcia was holding Derek's arm so tight it was starting to feel numb. Rossi and Hotch had told a couple of stories that left the team completely frightened, to be fair. Especially Spencer. He had forgotten an essential part of his plan: nights in the woods are dark as pitch. And he was afraid of the dark. How would he successfully take (Y/N) to a nice spot, sit down and stare at the stars with her if he was too scared to move from the fire?

(Y/N) looked at Reid and sighed. Maybe he had regretted it. Of course, he hasn't forgotten his invitation, 'cos Spencer remembered everything. Still, he hadn't made any move or sign to go stargazing. Being alone with him in the dark was scary but in the right way. Maybe she could finally tell him how she felt. No, no way. That wasn't going to happen.

- "Ok, so... it's late, and we are out of wine"- Rossi stood up and looked at the team- "I am ready to go to my comfy bed"- the rest of the team groaned. They were going to spend the night in a tent, probably freezing, while Rossi was going to be in his warm camper.

- "I'm going to sleep too, we have trekking in the morning, and it's going to be a long walk. I suggest you all go to bed early."- Hotch stood up and waved at the team, to then walk to his tent."

- "Sweet chocolate thunder, is there room in your tent for me?"- Penelope asked, and he chuckled immediately

- "Are you still scared of the stories? they are just made up things people create to terrify us."

- "I know. But I'm also scared of bears, psycho killers, and slender man"- Morgan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't joking.

- "Bring your sleeping bag."

- "You are my hero. I love you."

Prentiss and JJ went to bed soon after, leaving the two love birds alone.

- "Stargazing?"- Reid whispered, and (Y/N) nodded- "We should find a darker stop... or we can stay here by the fire if you like."

- "Are we going to get a nice view here?"- (Y/N) looked at the stars and tried to see anything.

- "No, it has to be darker,"- Spencer whispered, taking a look around- "There was a nice spot by the cliff, that way."

- "I don't think walking to a cliff in the middle of the night is a good idea"- (Y/N) smiled, and Reid shook his head

- "You are right..."

- "But we can walk carefully and carry a flashlight,"- she added and smiled, looking at him. His brown curls moved with the wind, and his chocolate eyes were brighter than the sparks of fire next to them.

- "That sounds good."

Spencer stood still for a second. He had a blanket in one hand and a bag of marshmallows in the other. (Y/N) put on her scarf and jacket and stared at him.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah."

He wasn't. He was trying to calm himself down, thinking that walking in the middle of the dark was worthy because it meant spending time alone with (Y/N).

He kept telling himself he didn't have to worry because nothing was going to happen. He wished he had his gun with him in case of any danger, though. Maybe that could make him feel better.

- "You can't kill darkness, stupid"- he whispered to himself and sighed. (Y/N) walked a step closer and took the marshmallow bag. Then, she held his hand.

- "Let's go?"

That was all Spencer needed. He was ready.

- "Did you know astronomy is the oldest of the sciences?- Reid whispered as they walked hand in hand to a nice clear spot - "Ancient astronomers were able to differentiate between stars and planets, as stars remain relatively fixed over the centuries while planets will move an appreciable amount during a comparatively short time."

- "And when did you start learning about the stars?"- Spencer loved that. How each time he started rambling, she wouldn't get annoyed like the rest of the people he knew. Instead, she would always ask him something related to the subject. And it was usually something personal. She wanted to learn more about him and how he had ended up being such an amazing human being.

- "When I was four, mom started taking me regularly to the library. That was when I started to learn more about science. I could pick ten books each time we were there, and I decided I wanted to know everything I could about everything I loved."

Spencer confessed and smiled, looking at her. His heart was warm with their conversations. He was never comfortable talking about his personal life, especially about his childhood. But with (Y/N), it all came naturally.

- "How often did she take you?"

- "Every other day"- she chuckled and remembered the pictures Diana had shown her of Spencer when he was a little kid last time they visited her. He was adorable, with his glasses and his messy hair. It was impossible not to imagine having a family with him.

- "This is it... this is a good spot."- Spencer said and stopped walking. He moved a log and tapped on it, smiling at (Y/N). She sat with him, and he wrapped them together with the blanket.

- "So, what am I staring at?"- (Y/N) asked and kept her eyes on the starry sky. It seemed she had never seen so many stars. And they even looked closer. Spencer looked at her, and his heart skipped a beat. He was about to start a lecture on astronomy, but instead, he decided to do "his move." Or the move he could think of. He didn't really know if it was a move, but he was going to give it a shot anyway.

- "Most stargazers learn about constellations looking for different noticeable patterns across the sky"- he made a pause clearing his throat. That was it. He was going to do it.

- "That's how it all started,"- he continued- "Some of these noticeable patterns up there are still the same ones our ancestors noticed while sitting around a campfire telling stories like we did today."

- "Telling stories about the stars sounds a lot less creepy, though" - (Y/N) whispered, and the two of them smiled- "Wanna tell me a story about these stars?"

There was no way Spencer could say not to her puppy eyes.

- "Ok... let's see..."- Reid sighed and thought for a moment, looking at the constellations above them- "Do you see those stars over there that look like a cute bunny?"

- "Which ones?"- Spencer pointed at the sky, and (Y/N) nodded- "I see them"

- "Well, you'll see, there was a comet in love with the bunny, but it could only look at her from a safe distance."- Spencer finally confessed. (Y/N) held her breath for a second and tried not to get her hopes high.

- "Why?"

- "Well, the comet was afraid he wasn't good enough for the bunny"- Spencer was whispering, and his soft voice sent shivers to (Y/N)'s body- "So he stared at his favorite constellation every day and only imagined what it would feel like to hold her in his arms."

- "And the bunny never saw the comet?"- (Y/N) asked softly, while very, very slowly, she moved her hand and reached Spencer's.

- "The bunny thought the comet just wanted to be her friend because he was scared to tell her how he felt,"

(Y/N) kept thinking there was no way on earth Spencer was telling her how he felt about her with that adorable story. Was he? Really? 'cos it was too romantic, and if he wasn't and she was wrong... it would be heartbreaking. But, there was only one way to find out.

- "I think the bunny felt the same, but she thought she wasn't good enough for the comet"- Spencer's heart raced at those words, and he turned to look at (Y/N). She blushed and stared at him with a shy smile.

- "Why would the bunny ever think that?"

- "The comet is too brilliant and too amazing to settle for a simple constellation when he could have the sun."

(Y/N) was embarrassed to confess those feelings, but it was now or never.

- "But the bunny is the sun in the comet's life."- Spencer whispered and caressed her cheek with his thumb carefully.

- "Really?"- her voice was so soft, it melted Spencer completely. He couldn't answer. All he could do was to lean in slowly and kissed her as gently as he could, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his. He cupped her face with both hands and moved a little closer.

It was the sweetest kiss he had ever given. It wasn't just because (Y/N)'s lips tasted like marshmallow, but because it was filled with pure love. He could feel it, even when he still couldn't believe it. She loved him. She really did.

(Y/N) was sure that wasn't really happening. She had probably fallen down the cliff earlier and was now unconscious or dead, living a fantasy. There was no way Spencer Reid was kissing her.

When they slowly moved and looked at each other, neither of them knew what to say. So (Y/N) did what she always dreamed of doing and leaned in and kissed him again. Spencer didn't hesitate and wrapped his arms around her waist, moving her closer to him. Her hands played shyly with some of the curls of his hair, and they simply kissed for what seemed to be forever, even when it wasn't enough time for them. Spencer felt he could kiss her his whole life, and he still wouldn't get enough of her.

- "So..."- (Y/N) whispered after some minutes and looked at Spencer, blushing- "Do you think the comet and the bunny could... maybe try to be more than friends?"

He smiled and kissed her again, rubbing her lips carefully with his; (Y/N) sighed into the kiss.

- "The comet is willing to do anything the bunny asks him because he just wants to make her happy all day, every day."

(Y/N) couldn't speak. She could only kiss him again and again.

- "Bunny just wants her comet to be happy too."

- "Then would Bunny be the comet's girlfriend?"- she giggled and nodded- "Good, because I don't think I could ever live without your kisses ever again, Bunny."

- "Neither do I, Comet"

And after that, stargazing was forgotten. There were enough stars in their kisses to keep the two of them lost in their own new universe. 

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long. 

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected. 

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.” 

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back. 

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked. 

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible. 

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[jojo-reader-hell]

BRO I JUST A TOP TIER GAY IDEA. SO OUR FAVORITE HAIR STAND BABE GETS JEALOUS BECAUSE SOME CHICK KEEPS LIKE LOOKING HER AND KOICHI UP AND DOWN. SO SHES ALL "BITCH KOICHI IS MINE STEP OFF", AND CLASSMATE IS LIKE "Girl I ain't checking HIM out boo 👀"......IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITES

THIS WAS A BAD IDEA TO REQUEST THIS WHEN IM BEING A SAD PINING GAY FOR MY GIRLFRIEND.

You think she didn’t notice you staring at them? Staring with those big ol eyes?

Wrongo bucko.

You stared in class at them. Stared when they walked out of the school building, stared when she showered her handmade gifts on him. It was nauseating.

The smell of infidelity, it was something she could get a whiff of in the air like a beagle locked on the scent of butthole balloon cocaine at a TSA checkpoint. Be it if Koichi had a new love interest, or someone was interested in him. Not something someone as paranoid as her would be able to miss even if there were thousands of life’s distractions to put her off the scent. She caught you the first time when she had finally invited Koichi to a cozy little cafe setting, waltzing on by like you didn’t follow him part of the way and glance longingly at their love. She wasn’t fucking stupid. Yukako knew what a longing glance was, and she was going to wring your neck out for it.

Every single time she caught you staring you ran, face turning red as a beet as you scurried away from the scene. At one moment she got so caught up in Koichi’s hesitation that she spilled her coffee and screamed at him.

She also decided after that date and confession got tainted that she was going to slam your face into the pavement, because after she returned from showing that class rep bitch who Koichi really belonged to, she saw you sucking up to him, trying to get sympathy from her one true love. You both were in an empty classroom, Koichi patting your back as you wailed in agony at his feet, kneeling on the floor.

How dare you... how dare you make a move on him behind her back.

You were twisting your skirt in knots, probably trying to make sure he got a peep of your underwear. From where she stood she could see it was a rose print pattern. What a fucking... you were just after one thing weren’t you?!

“How could anyone love me?!” she heard you blubber like a dying walrus. “I... I’ve never even had a boy like me. I’m so stupid and ugly and worthless-...”

“Hey hey hey!”

Yukako was seething. Spewing lava and hate when she saw Koichi lunge to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you got your filthy pedestrian tears all over the blazer of his uniform.

“Don’t talk like that...” Koichi’s voice was so soft, so kind, nothing like Yukako had ever heard before.

“You’re not any of those things. I think you’re beautiful and smart, and funny, and anyone who can’t see that has got to be blind! I think you’re very sweet and lovable too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah! Totally, I mean if you were even interested I’d even go out with you!”

Now, it didn’t help that you had essentially turned the knife counter clockwise in her chest, sealing your fate forever to be just another teen casualty. Because her mounting rage was of Friday the 13th proportions, ready to burst through the window of your room with a machete in the dead of night and hang your entrails like fairy lights around your wall. She knew when she’d do it too. She was going to patiently bide her time and wait for your little “heart to heart” to end, lurking at the edge of the shadows and planning to ambush you when you least expect it.

That was the plan originally. She was waiting for you after school when there were no witnesses, confident she would get you. But how could she have any clue... Not the faintest idea of what to do came to her mind when she heard you cry out her name.

“Yukako! Yukako Yamagishi, I love you!”

She whipped around, almost too angry to hear what you said until she found herself immobile. You’d taken her hands, nearly falling out of your penny loafers when you leaned in, and you kissed her right on the mouth.

The whole time her eyes were wide open in shock. The mounting rage she felt... the burning flames of hatred, where did it go?! Suddenly her first kiss was gone and she noticed you didn’t really know what else to do from there because all you did was give her a quick peck and you were already shaking and out of breath.

She didn’t even focus that long on her kiss being taken by another girl, too busy wondering what had changed as she watched your eyes glitter wetly with tears.

“Yukako, I’ve loved you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. I think you’re wonderful, and I don’t care if I’m weird or wrong or whatever, because I love you so much it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Yukako blinked. That’s all she could do. Didn’t really have the coherence to do much else except blink owlishly at you. All her feelings were in such a jumbled mess, like clothes in a dryer.

“I... I’m not good at sewing or cooking, I can’t give you material things like a sweater with love in the stitches or some adorable box lunch... I don’t even have money to buy you expensive presents. All I have is a heart full of all my love to give, and I’d do anything to make you happy. Will you... will you be my girlfriend?”

It was as if the fire that burned brightly in her heart had burned so hot and fast that every bad feeling, every negative thought or psychotic fantasy she had about you had suddenly gone up in smoke. Every single part of Yukako’s consciousness seemed only left to ash. You didn’t want Koichi. She heard that part as you continued to babble on helplessly despite her silence, completely unsure of how to respond as she learned the obsessive thoughts she had about one person had been the thoughts you had for her. You continued to pour out your heart, not giving her one opportunity to speak. Anyone could hear it in the way that you were talking to her that you were on the verge of breaking down into tears. Your face was contorted into embarrassment, from the kiss she could feel the heat of your cheeks radiating on her clammy skin. You were still holding her hands and she felt her whole body vibrate because of your nerves.

“Yuka-... I... Yamagishi?! I... I’m sorry...!” Now your voice was starting to crack when you realized she was immobilized. “I... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have kissed you... I...”

Tears. Great fountains of tears and bubbles of snot appeared and melted like ice cream down your cheeks, lips and chin. Your voice only got more choppy and your legs started to give. Her silence was deafening. She didn’t even know what she felt anymore and could only just watch as you sank to her knees, still holding her hands and not making a move to wipe your face.

Without thinking, she squeezed your hands.

The shock of her touch made you squeak like a mouse being crushed under a combat boot. Yukako knelt down to the floor with you. One of her perfectly embroidered hankies peeped out of her skirt pocket, and she only let go of one hand to fish it out as she carefully wiped every tear and bubble, wordlessly telling you to blow your nose as she placed the cloth over your face.

A soft, pale hand touched your burning cheeks. Her skin was so clammy and cold, like a compress when you had a fever it helped soothe you into calming down. A hiccup sounded in your chest, making you look small and vulnerable.

You looked her in the eyes. Locked with her. She saw the passion. The love. The devotion and pure worship. Everything she wanted staring her in the face.

Still unsure, but willingly, Yukako leaned into your space. Her lips cushioned yours, begging for another first kiss.

[harmoni-me]

hello it’s me again! thank you for fulfilling my request i just loved it. can you please do a continuation? like- reader starts receiving these anonymous love letters and gifts, this drove the boys (and the reader) to confess their feelings in the end. angst to fluff

Wow, thank you! I’m so glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! This one is even longer than the last, so please have fun reading this one!

Nagito Komaeda x Sweetheart Reader x Kokichi Ouma Pt. 2

Crunch

Huh? What in the world-

Last time you remembered reaching into your school duffle bag, all you had in it was a comfy change of clothes for when gym activities rolled around, and a wet bottle of water that was dripping with condensation, but…

You didn’t remember an envelope, not in the slightest.

A nervousness started to boil over from your head to your heart, face heating up as quickly as hot coals on a cold evening. Is this… what you thought it was?

You’re stomach dropped at the realization, plunging into the depths of your being, as a realization struck.

This…this was probably not who you thought it was from.

In retrospect, the sting would only sink in deeper if only a single letter was given.

You weren’t satisfied, and that made you feel like you were scum, too dirty to even bother to be dealt with.

Even feeling a great amount of resentment to the silly thing, it’s not like you weren’t going to open it. You weren’t heartless when it came to the topic of possible confession. I guess you could say that the author of the letter made you feel something you haven’t felt in a while.

It’s was pure, unbridled, bitter jealousy. Jealousy that engulfed your vision, clouding all sense of realism.

Why could someone so anonymous have more guts about dealing with their crush than you? This person, who you didn’t even know, had the heart of a lion to sit down, write out something deep and personal, and somehow get it to you.

You were jealous, because you would never have the heart to do the same.

Once the bell rang to signal the last period of the day, you begrudgingly stood from your desk, knowing what you had to do. You had to open it, it would be extremely inconsiderate if you didn’t.

While you were walking in the hallway to somewhere slightly more secluded, you slipped the letter out of your bag. It was pure white, and it wasn’t made out of anything fancy. The opening was sealed by a simple piece of clear scotch tape, and when turning the message over, on the back was large, red letters that spelled your name in delicate cursive. You really wanted to get this over with.

“BOO!”

“OH MY GOD-“ You jumped out of your skin, dropping the envelope in your hand, causing it to flutter to the floor.

“Nehehe! I got you so good!” A purple-haired brat giggled at your jump of fright, rounding the corner he was hiding behind. His eyes then wandered to the envelope that was laid flat on the tiled floor, his eyebrows rose, and a smirk slowly carved his way onto his face.

“Oooo, what’s this little thing, hm? An invitation? A secret message?….”  Kokichi knelt down to pick up the letter, fitting the paper between his middle finger and index finger. He got up all in your face, an evil smile plastered on his face, reaching all the way up to his eyes. He got closer to your ear, voice dropping, and his breath hot against your ear.

“Maybe…a love confession? Aww, how sweet…” Kokichi hummed, pleased by the steamy expression your face turned when you were embarrassed. Then, as suddenly as the actions before, Kokichi hopped backwards, grasping onto the letter with both hands, raising it aggressively high in the air.

“Ahhh! The anticipation! What’s inside, what’s inside, what’s inside?!” Kokichi kept on blabbering, waving the envelope all over the place, as if he was a child on Christmas Eve, shaking a wrapped gift to see if they could guess its contents.

When you saw the best opportunity, you quickly snatched the letter back from the naughty boy’s grubby little hands, huffing with a blush on your face once you retrieved what had been addressed to you.

You leaned your back against the hallway wall, which had now been abandoned. Slowly, you sunk yourself down to the ground, not once taking your eyes off of the red lettering that spelled your name in flawless cursive. You noticed upon close inspection that the lettering was a little smudged at the ends, most likely from Kokichi’s roughhousing with it.

A rough thump rang out next to you, making you look over with not much interest. Kokichi, in all of his nosy glory, had sat right up next to you against to wall, head shoved all in your business.

“Come on! Open it already! The suspense is killing me!” Kokichi was vibrating from waiting so patiently....to what extent Kokichi could be patient, that is.

You sighed, giving up. It was most likely anonymous anyway, so Kokichi won’t even know who to target ruthlessly on for the next month.

You let the tip of your finger slide into the opening of the letter, breaking the tape to the prized information. You carefully slipped out the neatly folded piece of paper, which was a thicker, almost card stock like texture.

Even before opening it, you could feel the emotion that radiated out of the paper. You suddenly had an image turn in your mind, of a person looking to be your age, carefully writing every word down as perfectly a flawed human could. Though, you could imagine them also grasping at their hair, crumbling up previous attempts, over and over again, as if disposing of their emotions, yet rebirthing it to be conveyed better each and every time.

It made you feel that much worse, knowing  that the writer’s feelings are in no way reciprocated. You couldn’t, because the feelings to give back were already stolen in their entirety. By two other people, none the less.

Ironic how one of your two fattest crushes you’ve ever had in your life was basically huddling into you right at this moment, wanting so desperately to know what the paper read.

When finally did unfold the letter, you were met with beautiful, curvy handwriting, not a spelling error or smudge could be found.

. . .

To the one who my heart yearns for the most,

I’ve lost track on how many times I have written this letter. For reference, the bin next to me is now filled to the brim and was completely empty just two hours ago, but that’s not important, is it?

Let’s get the obvious things out of the way, shall we? I adore you. Though I’m keeping this anonymous, I want you to know that my heart has grown ten times it’s size ever since the day I met you. Every single attribute about you I hold as a precious keepsake within my mind. Every time you do anything, say anything, I want to keep it all to myself. I want to lock the sound of your voice, and keep vivid pictures of your smile fresh within my memories.

You, (Y/N), have made me feel things that I  thought I had become numb to. I was unapproachable. A man that was blinded by his own psychotic desire to be used, that’s what I was.

You might think I’m exaggerating, but I believe you’re my guardian angle, sent to be due to God’s pity. Now that I’ve written it down, that was stupid, but I’ll keep it, because it’s the truth.

You saved me from myself, causing me to unsurprisingly fall in love with the one who made me realize I was a human, standing among other flawed humans, all having different lives, hopes, talents, aspirations...

Your kindness, no, your everything gave me so much room to simply breathe, and realized what I was doing to myself and to others.

Now that that’s out of the way, I would like to mention something I’ve...conjured.

I’m not very great at using my words, so that’s why I’ve poured everything into this letter, but you deserve to know who I am.

I’m scared, and if you do see me, I might not be able to get a good amount of words out but

In two days from now, after school, I want to meet you. I was thinking on the school rooftop? If you decide to come, I’ll be there waiting.

. . .

Wow

Who...who was this guy? And why...

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glossy from such words. This could be anyone, yet, what did you do? You were friends with many people, but not like this...you don’t think?

You suddenly felt something warm wiping away your now falling tears, gliding over your cheeks to brush away your liquid sadness.

“Hey, don’t cry...it’s not a good fit for you.” Kokichi then used his bandana to gently dry your puffy eyes and crimson cheeks. You looked up at the boy, who had the tiniest smile present on his face. It was almost as if that was how far the smile could go.

The sun broke through a window across the hallway, landing on Kokichi and his facial features. You looked into his eyes, but something was off.

Those eyes, they reflected a lot more light than they usually did, as if they were simply water in a pond. Was he-

“Well, that sure was something, huh?” Kokichi turned around, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, trying to be discreet. You noticed though, but decided to not say anything.

. . .

When you thought things couldn’t get worse, you had totally jinxed yourself the next day.

You wanted to get your water bottle out of the your school duffel bag during class, because humans have to drink every once in awhile, but when you did...

Crunch

What...what even was that?

You honestly didn’t even want to bother until the end of the day with how you were feeling right now.

You were slumped, once again, in an empty hallway, browsing your phone and looking at funny cat videos to raise your vibrations. At least they made you smile.

“Is there a kitten nearby?” A voice had pierced the atmosphere. You looked up, it was Nagito standing over you, a face of half wonder and half concern delicately painted on his features.

You looked downcast, and you hated hiding your emotions, so it was plainly evident to Nagito how you felt in that moment, and he was heartbroken.

He placed his belongings next to you, along with himself, comfortably hugging his knees into his chest. He turned to you frowning a bit.

“You...only watch cute animal videos when you’re sad. Is... there anything wrong?” Nagito questioned, wanting to help you as much as you’ve helped him.

“It’s kinda personal, but your company already makes me feel better, so it’ll all be fine.” You gave the white haired boy a little smile, showing just how genuine you were.

Nagito hummed, nodding in understanding. He was playing it cool in front of you, but he really wanted to punch the person that made you feel like this.

It’s funny, because he probably has an idea of who...

“Oh, yeah, the thing...” You mumbled, reaching over to dig around in your duffle bag. When you felt the crunchy texture, you pulled it out, revealing something something that you honestly weren’t expecting.

It was a large pink lollipop, and it was in the shape of a heart.

It was probably as big as your head, and there was a clear, wrapper-like foil around the treat, preserving it for the consumer.

“Where did you get that?” Nagito raised a brow, because it was quite ridiculous how absurdly large this lollipop was. It was a funny sight though, seeing you side to side with with a sweet that could easily cover your whole face.

“I... think someone game this to me?” You thought, smiling a bit at the silliness of the situation.

But your mind wandered... was it the same person who wrote the letter? Then again, you didn’t think it would make sense with someone like him getting, well, this. Especially after writing something so deep and personal. This just kinda seemed incredibly random.

Either way, you started to unwrap the lollipop, wanting to eat some of it, even though you were most likely not going to finish the thing.

Resuming the cat videos, you repositioned the phone between you and Nagito. The boy took a glance, watching as he saw a fluffy white kitten get scared from playing a note on a piano, making him chuckle.

“You wanna watch somethin’ else, Nagi?” You asked Nagito, making him perk up in attentive nature. His smile conveyed so much care for you, as if you were his most prized gift he had ever received in his life.

“I’m bound to enjoy anything you would like, (Y/N)! Please, pick whatever you would like!” Nagito waved his hands, signaling not to worry about him, after all, you were the sad one out of you two for the moment.

“Ok! We’re watching Gordon Ramsay yell at people!” You promptly spoke, grabbing the phone and setting up the Hell’s Kitchen episode.

“Don’t mind me asking, but who is that?” Nagito questioned genuinely, making you gasp in surprise. How?

“He’s one of the best chef’s in the world, but he’s super strict with his employees, so it’s kinda entertaining. You’ll see!” You exclaimed, scooting yourself closer to Nagito, propping up the phone. You leaned into his side, taking a little nibble from your lollipop.

Nagito’s eyes kept on darting from you to the screen, having trouble with containing his emotion with you simply leaning on him to watch a show about...a vulgar-mouthed chef.

“Hm? What’s the matter?” You looked up at him, face inches apart from his. He didn’t respond, too nervous to trust his mouth. Lucky for him, you cut in.

“Oh! You want some?” You stuck the untouched side of the lollipop to Nagito’s mouth.

His brain and heart were on fire, and not a lick of logic was left. He pressed his lips against the candy, and sucked on a small portion.

It was your favorite flavor...he liked it way better than artificial grape soda, by a long shot.

After licking to his satisfaction, Nagito locked his teeth into the part he had been abusing with his mouth, biting off a piece for to-go.

“I need to go to the restroom, ok? I’ll be back.” He said, getting up from his seated position, making his way and entering into the boys bathroom at the end if the hallway.

You don’t know if he knows, but boy, you were blushing up a storm. He literally just gave you an up close and personal presentation on how his tongue did it’s work. Now, you didn’t really care for dirty thoughts, but after witnessing that, you couldn’t help it...

You looked down at the lollipop, now with a small chunk of it gone missing from the main snack. You examined it, and realized something so blatantly obvious, it was embarrassing.

Rapped around the white stick of the lollipop was a piece of yellow paper, and without much thought, you unraveled it.

It was a note, but it was short, and written it blue colored pencil.

. . .

Found this at a candy store, and bought it because you looked sad the last time I saw you. Seeing you sad makes me sad and stuff so yeah. I’m not signing my name here or anything, cuz that would just give away the surprise! But I’ll confess to you properly in person, cuz I’m better at talking. Meet me tomorrow after school, on the roof!

. . .

Huh?

Was this...the same guy? No, no it’s really couldn’t have been. The handwriting was different, the spelling was off, and they seemed a lot more laid back. Also, the author of the letter clearly stated that he was better at conveying is precious feelings by writing, while this one said they were more than happy to spill their own feeling with their voice.

So, you’ve got two secret admirers now...and both of them want to meet at the same place, and the same time.

Maybe this was all just some twisted, elaborate trick by a group of thugs, wanting to lure you in, then gang up on you like street cats when they found a lowly mouse to pray upon.

You’ll never know, unless you sucked it up and went tomorrow.

. . .

Well, there you were, on the roof after school the next day.

No one was there.

The sky was as clear as your blank mind, which you had forced to stop thinking about the world around you, and what you were doing. The breezed tickled your face, as if the wind tried to replicate the feeling of tips of grass grazing on ones cheek.

The only noise was the muffled chattering from students below, creating the perfect background noise to just...relax.

Until you heard yelling.

It was coming from the stairwell that lead up to the roof. You didn’t move a muscle, it was probably just loud, rambunctious students.

But it just kept on going, and going, on and on like a hyper parakeet who had a shot of expresso.

Well, since your admirers haven’t shown their faces for the past fifteen minutes, there’s nothing better right now than to snoop on the possible drama rumbling around in the stairwell. Might make a good story to tell someday, you never know.

You made your way into the stairwell, only to be met with very familiar voices, but you quickly made your presence unknown to them, hiding behind a wall.

“Kokichi! I told you not to not to get yourself involved!” Nagito raised his voice a little, but not to the point where it was just pure anger talking. Kokichi stood, fists balled up in pent up frustration.

“I know you did! And it was stupid that I did, but-“ Kokichi yelled, desperation in his voice.

“Then WHY? You knew I wrote that letter, hell, you were there helping me write the damn thing, but you go and do this?!” Nagito’s heart was the one talking at this point, because you’ve never heard his voice twinge in such genuine emotional pain.

But now you knew who wrote the letter, it was Nagito.

That didn’t sink in as hard as it was supposed to, until-

Wait, Nagito?

“Y-you don’t understand!” Kokichi responded, clenching his teeth from emotional agony.

“I do understand, and I just want to tell you that you’ve went way too far on this sick joke-“

“IT’S NOT A JOKE!” Kokichi cried out, a rasp in his voice becoming evident.

“Then what is it, Kokichi? Spill it. You know how important this is to me, and I don’t like yelling at you.” Nagito was stern, his voice dominating the purple-haired boy.

“Because...I-I...” his voice broke in sadness and so, so much regret. He suddenly huffed, opening his mouth to wallow out.

“B-BECAUSE I LOVE THEM TOO!” Kokichi sobbed. Thick, wet tears rolling down his swollen cheeks. Nagito was shocked, not saying a word. Nagito’s frown deepend because of the wallowing boy in front of him that he cared so much for. Yet, like always, he could never find the words to wrap Kokichi in warmth and apology. The thought made Nagito’s eyes begin to water.

Look what you did, you hurt him, you absolute scum.

“B-but *hic* I-I-I’m s-so *hic* s-selfish...I...” Kokichi hiccuped, trying his absolute best to get his words across.

“I’M SO FUCKING SELFISH, BECAUSE I LOVE YOU TOO, NAGITO KOMAEDA....y-you b-b-big jerk...” Kokichi wailed, a river of tears poring, falling to the concrete floor; the droplets staining the ground in a darker shade of grey when they landed.

“O-oh my god...K-Kokichi...l-“ Nagito started, hands shaking violently. This was bad, this was really bad.

And you knew that.

So you ran. You ran so fast out of your hiding spot, down to the two people in this world that you cared about the most.

And before you knew it, you harshly brought the both of them into your arms, causing the three of you to to collapse onto the ground.

You let it all out. You bawled into their arms, letting out your cries. Whether it was just from sadness, or of relief, that didn’t matter. You cried, until your eyes went dry, and all of your tears were soaked into the boys’ shirts.

. . .

After a bit, all was silent, except for the breathing of you three all mixing together. Your bodies were intermingled, assuming the best position for comfort and care.

You needed to say something, anything. You needed to tell them, or else everything will fall apart.

“I can’t choose.” You put it simply, the two other boys perked up, tear stains prominently showing on both of their faces.

“(Y/N)...” Nagito mumbled.

“I desperately need the both of you. So badly. I want to love you two so much I want my lips to hurt from kissing you two so much by the end of each day. I want my hands to cramp from holding both of you two’s hands so much.” You proclaimed, letting out everything that has been building up in your heart.

“I want to wake up with the warmth of two. I want to spend my days and nights with all of my love coming from two. And...I want to try each and every new thing life brings me, with the love of two.” You gasped for air, sighing out of your mouth, regulating your breath to its normal pace.

“I understand if you don- mphf!” You were promptly shut.

Kokichi had placed his lips on yours, causing a jolt of passion to ignite your soul. The feeling was delicate and new, but it was incredibly lovely  You promptly kissed back, feeling a joy you’ve never felt before in your life.

The two of you parted with the kiss when the both of you felt soft lips gently peck both of your foreheads. It was as soft as a feather, yet it made the two of you go so incredibly soft.

You and Kokichi looked up to see Nagito, a small smile on his face. One of his hands reached up to your left cheek, while the other hand made its way to Kokichi’s right. He then lovingly dragged his thumbs across both of your cheeks, smile growing wider, while his face became rosy.

“There’s...so much I want to say but...I hope my actions can at least convey how my heart wants to treat the two of you.” Nagito said, his voice dropped, but in a more of a endearing tone than anything. The boy was still smiling like this was the happiest day in his life.

“I think it would be fun if we all had a slumber party as our first date.” Kokichi giggled, nuzzling into Nagito’s long, slender fingers.

“That sounds like fun, I think it would be delightful.” Nagito playfully pinched Kokichi’s cheek lightly, causing Kokichi to giggle, smiling wide.

“But we do have one thing to take care of first...” Nagito glanced over to you, chuckling.

You were fast asleep within the palm of his hand. It made him fall in love all over again, to be honest.

Nagito and Kokichi worked to untangle themselves from your limbs, trying not to wake you. They then promptly proceeded to place you on Nagito’s back, in a comfortable position so you could keep on sleeping soundly.

“You up for taking our little Cutie back to her place?” Kokichi snickered.

“Of course, love. Only if you would accompany me? Nagito stuck out his hand, waiting for the warmth of another.

“You’re lucky I really like you, clover.” Kokichi hastily grabbed his hand, weaving their fingers together.

As they began walking out to the main exit gate, Kokichi spoke.

“You know, I said a lie earlier I didn’t like. I don’t just like you...I actually really love you. The both of you. That’s something I could never lie about.” Kokichi pledged, the evening orange sky bouncing off of his face. Nagito squeezed the shorter males hand lovingly.

“I love you too, Kokichi. And not just you also, but the both of you. My heart will be forever loyal to the two of you until I rest in my own grave, remember that.”

[not-sewell]

i'd had this idea floating in bits and pieces in my mind for weeks now and i've now been able to string it together with some semblance of coherence, so here we go:

[i don't even know what this is classified as but it comes under soft hours, i guess?]

Foiled Date Plans Leading to Time Spent Better.

i imagine that the LI and the detective haven’t been able to hang out, go on a date, for ages because neither of them could find the time for it, both of them being swamped with work. so when the opportunity presented itself, they jumped at it.

only for things to swiftly go downhill at different times on the day of their date

N and the detective found that they both were to get off their duties early one day and quickly made their plans for a nice, evening together. the detective chooses to go big this time: booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, where they could enjoy good food, sip on some wine and listen to some smooth music. yeah, that’d do. it's all pretty smooth-sailing until their plans are foiled by a pile of unfinished paperwork that they had promised to help Tina get through. as much as they would rather be someplace else, they decide to help. they’re pretty committed to fulfilling their promise. not that they can deny Tina when she’s making those puppy eyes at them anyway. making a quick call to N to let them know what’s up (and promising to be there on time), the detective gets to the paperwork. it is only when N appears at their door that they realise how late it actually is. well, shit. there is no way they'd be able to make it to the restaurant on time. they should've quit while they were ahead. but they didn't, and they may have just ruined their date plans and this day just sucks. and it's all their fault. N finds a way to fix this before the detective spirals further into whatever headspace they were getting into, though. soon, the couple is at the detective's home, cooking a homely (yet fancy, of course) meal, N pulling the detective by their hand to sway to a light melody of jazz music playing in the background, wrapped in each other's arms – whispering sweet nothings, singing softly. well, okay, maybe the day doesn't suck as much anymore.

F is all too excited to finally get to go out with the detective. the detective had a day off, so they thought of showing F around the town: the places that the detective had discovered over the years, places that one wouldn’t necessarily include in their ‘Places to Visit in Wayhaven’ list. it seemed like a cheery day – maybe they could rent bicycles and go biking around town. this was a good idea. it felt nice to be biking again – it had been a while since they’d done it. the wind gently making its way through their hair brought a soft smile to the detective’s face. but it was only a few minutes before F decided they could ride faster, and the detective followed, the Wayhaven tour long abandoned. the wind in their hair getting progressively less gentle seemed to have an effect on the detective. F’s whooping also helped, maybe. soon, the two are speeding past people, laughing, low-key trash-talking each other and— this was not a good idea. the first thing the detective registers is the nearly blinding pain in their arm and F’s extremely concerned eyes staring down at them. any movement that shifts their position sends a searing pain up and down their forearm. well, fuck. soon, they’re at the doctor’s clinic, having received medical attention. F is uncharacteristically quiet, throwing worried glances their way. it obviously takes a lot of reassurance from the detective to quell F’s worries. then a long pause. and then laughter – belly laughter that only seems to get louder. the walk back home is now far lighter and less painful than it would’ve been. F offers to stay the night, of course. what follows is a day full of F fussing over the detective’s condition, and lots of ice-cream, popcorn and trashy Netflix movies. sure, the injury part sucked but it mattered far lesser.

M has probably rolled their eyes for the hundredth time now. the detective refuses to accept that they've fallen sick. it doesn't take M their hypersenses to recognise what is beginning to sound like the start of rales in the detective's breath. it's ridiculous, the way the detective refuses to acknowledge that they're unwell, especially with the amount of effort they've been putting to even sit upright. it takes a big coughing fit from the detective for M to put their foot down and take them back to the detective’s bedroom. yeah, no, M doesn't give a shit about the date anymore. they'd like the detective to be very much alive, instead, thank you very much. glaring the detective to bed, they run their hand more fondly than they expected over the detective’s head before making their way to the kitchen and call F to relay some solid, 'how to care for a sick partner' advice from N: hot and cold compresses, some VapoRub, soup and maybe a warm glass of milk with turmeric in it and lots of care (which they would take care of by snuggling with the detective, should they ask). the detective wakes up early next morning to find M asleep on the bed – seated next to the detective, having leaned their back on the headrest – their hand in the general area of where the detective’s head is. the detective had never really pinned M down as someone who could be so tender but hell, no one’s complaining.

A admits: they were really looking forward to the date. they didn’t know what the detective had planned – they wouldn’t tell them (maybe it involved wine-tasting?) – but it would’ve been nice to finally get to spend some time with the detective. anyway, that doesn’t matter right now, does it? they were here on a stakeout in a hilly area with probably the worst partner ever: the detective. it’s got nothing to do with the detective’s skills or attitude – they’re more skilled and dutiful than most. it’s the effect their presence has on A: their focus on the scene before them is off-kilter and they’re certainly not thinking about their mission as much as they would like to. they chide themself for being so distracted. they really need to learn to maintain their focus regardless of the company they have (just the detective but okay). gah, they need to pull themself together. even as they chide themself, they find their gaze drifting towards the detective. again. this time, they find the detective’s eyes on them too. this has been going on for a while and they both know it needs to stop. and yet, they just cannot seem to. at least the evening’s been very uneventful. it’s close to dawn when N and M join them to take over. the couple is on their way back to the Warehouse when the detective gasps softly, the way they do when they think they've got a great idea (which is usually true, but they don't necessarily need to know that). they turn to A with a bright smile. "i know of a spot," they say, "come with me!" as they pull A by their hand. they're right on time to catch the most beautiful sunrise A has seen in a long, long time. and the detective turns to look at A just in time to see the softest, most carefree smile grace A's beautiful face. they're almost too lost in their thoughts to catch A whisper a small 'thank you', interlacing their little fingers together. the day is instantly brighter.

[themarvellouswriter]

WIN MY HEART

Pairing: Winston Duke x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Winnie and the reader are acting buddies and things get a little heated up after a movie premiere.

Genres: Smut. Porn with plot.

A/N: If this gets enough notes, I may write a part two but for now enjoy! Also, I’ve marked where smut begins and ends (if you’re looking for fluff).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took a deep breath and pushed open the car door. You were met with blinding flickers of light. You smiled flashing your pearly whites to the crowd. The noise surrounding you grew louder. You stood up revealing a smooth expanse of your leg.

The gold material of your dress fluttered flatteringly and you seemed to glow under the lights. You waved at the paparazzi as you walked towards the venue where your latest movie was about to premiere. You waited at the door as you answered a few questions about it. Your answers matched your excitement. “I can’t wait for everyone to watch this! Its going to be amazing!!” You gushed, face warm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a limousine stop. Winston Duke stepped out. He was dressed in a vivid green suit with a polka dotted shirt. He stood tall and gave everyone a dazzling smile. He had your heart racing and blood pumping in your ears. You both had been good friends for a few years now and you had fallen completely head over heels for him sometime. This was your second film together and both of you had been thrilled at the opportunity to work together again.

He engulfed you in a hug as he reached you. You smiled up at him and answered a few more questions and headed inside.

Your arms were linked as you made your way to your seats which were next to each other, both of you being the main leads. You settled down comfortably as you waited for the movie to begin. You were playing the morally dubious villain to his self righteous hero. Your mind drifted back to the table read, your characters had complemented each other’s perfectly and the official shoot had started just a few days later. Right now, it was more elbow touching and knee brushing which was keeping you distracted. Little did you know, you had a similar effect on him.

You forced yourself to focus on the screen, just in time to see yourself execute a flawless backflip off the roof of the building you were in. You watched as you hit the water, secretly impressed by your skills. You personally felt that the scene had been impossible to shoot because you knew you had the strength of a newborn. You had cried after messing it up for what felt like the millionth time. Winston had been there to brush away your tears and had comforted you by bringing your favourite ice cream by your trailer. The next time you shot it, it had gone over beautifully. You treated him to dinner and the smile he’d given you afterwards had made your day.

The scene cut to Winston’s surprised and mildly impressed expression as he peered over the edge. “You did good. I think its my favourite scene so far,” he murmured from beside you, careful to not disturb the others watching. You squeezed his arm in response.

Eventually the movie ended and the crowd began to clear out, after offering their congratulations. Next was a dinner with the cast and crew to celebrate. Winston and you had been separated sometime ago and now your gaze kept drifting to where he was supposed to be. You mingled with your friends from the movie before being led out to dinner.

You found yourself next to Winston at the dinner table again. It held about fifteen people, closely sitting together. Much more close than you would’ve thought. Every single time either of you moved, the other could feel it. You tried to keep your fidgeting to a minimum but you were getting tired.

It took you a while to realise that while you’d been maintaining a cheery conversation with one of your producer friends to you right, you had stopped feeling Winston moving. You discretely turned your head to find his arm on the back of your chair. You hid a smile and continued making conversation.

As dinner wrapped up and everyone headed out, you approached Winston, offering to walk him back to his hotel. He agreed and you both left the venue together. His hotel was not far so you reached there shortly. You both stared at each other for a moment before you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away, you noticed how his eyes moved to your lips. Suddenly, a wave of confidence flooded you (mostly due to the way too many glasses of wine you’d had) and you kissed him. As quickly as you had, you brain seemed to short circuit and you pulled back horrified. “Oh crap, Winnie. I’m sorry. I -” You were cut off by him pulling you flush against his body and kissing you deeply.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and kissed back. Hard. It rough, messy and sloppy. Teeth involved and not every well practiced. Any director would be ashamed to see such a kiss happening. You didn’t care. Apparently, Winston didn’t either. He merely gripped your waist tighter. You lost yourself in it and were growing almost dizzy with the lack of air. Finally, both of you parted, foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes were closed, and you didn’t dare to open them afraid that he was going to slip out of your arms any second. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he said, his voice slightly husky. “You and me both.” You force yourself to look at him in the eyes. He looks like he’s glowing, the lights behind casting a halo over him, Slightly rumpled clothes and his lips stained with your lipstick. You laugh. He smiles. “I’ve got your lipstick on me, don’t I?” You murmur a yes. He smiles wider as he pulls you into another bruising kiss.

“Come up.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I can’t wait any more.”

“Neither can I.”

You don’t know how you made it to his room. You’re fairly certain that the sight of two A – listers making out like there is no tomorrow would’ve startled anyone. You feel yourself pressed against the wall, Winston laying feverish kissed on your jaw, neck and everywhere else. You gaze dazedly, making sure that the door is locked. As if sensing your question, Winston pulls the handle. It doesn’t budge.

You turn your attention to him. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon, the stars and then some. You turn bashful and distract him by pulling off his blazer. Your heart is hammering away in your chest and given Winston’s proximity you’re sure he can feel it too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His mouth is back on yours as he leads you towards the bed. You accidentally hip check a wayward table or chair but you can’t be bothered to look. Winston has your entire heart and soul and mind in his hands and you’re way beyond the point of caring.

His fingers deftly pull down the zip of your dress and it falls from your shoulders. Your brain is unable comprehend all what he’s doing, just vague flashes of passion as his mouth finds a particularly sweet spot on you clavicle or as his fingers gently graze an erogenous zone on your body.

You’re breathing hard as you slip out of your dress. You fumble with his shirt buttons and he pulls it off his head, separating only for a moment before his attention is back on you. You’re growing heady with desire as you undo his belt. He has you against the bed as you fall, the backs of your knees hitting the frame. His trousers pool around his ankles as he steps out. He’s towering above you.

Your pupils are blown as you drink in the sight of Winston’s half naked body. His underwear leaving nothing to imagination. Heat floods your body as you prop yourself up on your elbows and pull him down by the slim chain around his neck. He wedges a knee between your legs as he bends down and starts kissing up your sternum. One of your hands is on the back of his neck and the other is tracing patterns on his broad chest. You run your fingers through his close cropped hair and feel him lean into your touch.

He nips the delicate skin at the base of your neck as you arch your back, giving him access to remove your bralette. His fingers move with ease as his hand glides across your now bare back. You lightly tug his head and lay soft kisses on his mouth. He pulls himself forward, his knee now rubbing against your heat. You reach and pull off the last garment separating your bare chest from his.

His black eyes seem indecipherable as they stare at you, in all your glory.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.”

“How can I when you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?”

You let his words wash over you. The giddiness of a schoolgirl in love is almost too much for you to bear. You kiss him like you’ve never kissed before. This one is harder, rougher and passionate. He’s kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. His hold on you is gentle yet firm. Like you’re delicate, one wrong move and you’ll break in his hands.

His hands move lower to rid you of your final piece of clothing. Warm hands on your hips, slowly pulling the material down. Not wanting to be the only one who’s naked, you pull his down too. You rest your hands on his hips, areas marred by stretch marks. He stiffens above you. Sensing his slight insecurity, you give him a reassuring smile.

“All of you is perfect. Not just the face everyone loves. All of you. You’re perfect.”

The change is immediate. His movements are more confident than before. He’s big and in desperate need of release and as much as both of you are enjoying the gentle caresses and languid kisses, you wish for him to move so you can feel him everywhere. You wrap your legs around his waist.

“Please. More.”

“For you, anything.”

He has you by the waist and moves lower. His breathing is uneven, as affected by you as you are by him. It gives you an incredible amount of satisfaction knowing that he feels what you feel for him. He peppers kisses on your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as he bites the joint of your thigh and hip. He mouth is now dangerously close to your sex and the warm breaths he’s leaving is only making your senses rush into overdrive.

His mouth has made way to your folds. You close your eyes at the wave of pleasure that is consuming your body, his tongue doing wonderful things to you. Your head is spinning with his burning touch. His hands were cool but against your hot skin, they felt like ice. Your skin feels like it is on fire as you clench your fingers in the sheets.

You feel him push a finger inside you and your body shudders in response.

“If you’re going to take me, I need to prep you well.”

He pushes another finger and your body is akin to a tightly coiled spring. You’re a withering mess under him, desperate gasps leaving your mouth.

“If you’re going for torture, it’s working. Just move.”

He’s now three fingers in and you’re resisting the urge to very rudely tell him to move faster.

By the time he’s four fingers in, your words are a garbled mess of his name. You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He’s lightly biting the underside of your jaw and in the back of your mind you think that maybe there’ll be a hickey there tomorrow.

Winston’s breathing is now slower. Understanding that he wants to take deep breaths with him, you follow his lead. Your mind clears and everything comes back into focus. More or less.

He pulls out and you whimper at the loss of contact. You feel him smile against the side of your neck as his sex enters your body. You feel the stretch burning your entire body. You’re secretly grateful that he took his time but now you want him to move.

“Move. Please for the love god, move.”

A laugh escapes him as he brushes a wayward strand of hair from your face. The hand on your back is pressing firmly you against him. He shifts slightly and you moan your approval in his ear. It seems snap something in him because he’s now pushing his entire length inside you, making you nearly weep in pleasure.

Time doesn’t exist because all you can think of is Winston. He uses his other hand you interlace your fingers and grip your delicate hand in his much larger one. He’s breathing hard as he slowly begins thrusting into you. Long, slow movements which make you want to scream.

“I won’t break.”

“I know. You’re too strong to break.”

He picks up the pace, spurred on by your broken words of encouragement. The faint night light from the windows make him look ethereal and for a moment you wonder if all this just a fever dream.

But then you see Winston smile at you and squeeze your hand and you realise that this is real. He’s real. And the fact that you’re completely at his mercy is also real. And a very large part of you enjoys it.

Winston is practiced. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what is going to make you feel good and it driving you up the wall. Being so close to your release but just not there. A tear slips from your eyes and within seconds, its wiped away.

“I know you’re close. Do it for me.”

With one last, powerful thrust, you’re like putty under him. Your back is arched and head thrown back as a strong, overwhelming orgasm takes over you. You’re repeating his name like a mantra and that is all it takes for him to come undone shortly after.

You both collapse next to each other, hands still interlaced.

“I’d say let’s go for round two but I don’t think I can handle it.”

He lets out a breathy laugh which has you feeling all types of ways.

“To be honest, neither can I. This was good. Extremely good.”

You both don’t bother clearing up the mess you’ve made, too caught up in each other to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up alone. Winston’s spot beside you is cool. You panic thinking he left but then you hear the shower running. He appears at the bathroom door, in just a towel, having heard you sit up.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to join me for a shower or are we going to waste water by taking two showers?”

You smile and let the sheets fall away from your body as you make your way towards him. He can’t his eyes off you as he admires every inch, every curve, every imperfection.

You press a warm kiss to his mouth, not in the least bit concerned about morning breath. You then press your entire body against his, making him moan.

“Well then. What’re you waiting for?”

[missgarnet]

Where We Stand

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count:5.7k

Genre: angst with fluff

Warnings: pregnancy, mentions of past miscarriage, blood and injury, Duchess Min and other characters from Stay,  I swear there’s a happy ending

Summary by @minjoonalist​: fluff, pain, almost pain, spain without the s' and fluff?

Link to ao3

Happy Birthday @sope-and-shine​ Belle, I love you! (also I’m sorry for not killing anyone off in this story, I just couldn’t) 

I also want to say thank you to @minjoonalist​ and @sope-and-shine​‘s Fae for reading through this to helping me edit and think of titles!

“How do I look darling?” you ask, slipping the thin dagger into the hidden slit in the corseted top of your dress.

The duke stepped closer to you and took in the reflection of the two of you together. You watched in the mirror as he swept your hair to the side and started to kiss you, his lips a gentle whisper against your neck. “You look… powerful. I’d have to be an imbecile to ignore that.”

“Is that it?”

You feel his lips forming a smirk against your skin, “Of course not, you’re stunning and you know it just as well as I do. How was I lucky enough to find a wife as brilliant and beautiful as you.” His hands find themselves at your waist, trailing back to play with the laces of your dress.

“Yoongi,” you laugh as you swat his hands away. “They just finished getting me all dressed up in this, I don’t want to call the maids back to retie this again.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already, you normally make them redo this until it’s as tight as you can get and both of you are exhausted.” He wraps you in his arms again and turns the two of you to face the mirror, “unless you’re…”

He can feel the sharp breath you take, realizing he’d figured it out. “Please, don’t get excited, it's too early for that. I don’t want to tell anyone else just yet.”

“Who else knows?”

“My maid, she thought it was weird when I asked her to find dresses with a higher waistline. She figured it out pretty soon, and I politely asked her not to say anything just yet.”

“Mmhmm, and what do you mean by politely asking this time.”

“I may have… accidentally… threatened to have her tongue removed if she so much as hinted to it”

“You never cease to amaze me, my love.”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the few moments of alone time you had left. The two of you rushed to finish getting dressed for the day, this meaning countless weapons being discreetly tucked away in the many hidden pockets of your clothing. It was an important day, and you made it a rule to be prepared for anything and everything that could go wrong. Today you had one mission and no one was going to get in your way, not even the king himself.

Looking back you should have said no when she asked you to walk her down the aisle. Traditionally she should have had a family member to give her away, but tradition be damned, if your best friend and closest ally wanted you by her side then nothing was getting in your way.

By the time you got there the poor dear was already panicking as she paced the floor of her dressing room. “What if I mess up or trip and the entire court starts making fun of me”

“I’ll give them something else to talk about.” You said, instinctively reaching toward your favourite dagger. It’s jeweled angel wings sitting at the very top of your gown, giving the appearance of a simple broach when tucked into it’s spot atop your corset.

“Y/N, no weapons. How many times do we have to say this, stabbing people doesn’t solve problems. It only creates more.”

You scoffed at her reply, knowing fully well that it was the first thought you had. “First of all, I wasn’t going to stab anyone… this time. Second, there’s no rule against blackmail or accidently sharing information that would draw far more attention to others.”

“I don’t know how you did this. You didn’t even know Yoongi when the two of you got married, I’ve known Tae far longer and I’m still way too nervous for all of this.”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “I was a wreck on my wedding day. Hell, I practically had to be dragged down the aisle and I would have clawed my way out if I could. I wanted nothing to do with it, then again that wasn’t really up to me. Even afterwards I was still too nervous to actually talk to him, it was much easier to argue and plot all the ways I could get rid of him.”

“You were planning to divorce him?”

“Oh Queenie, divorce was mild compared to what I had in mind.” You smiled at the memories of when you first moved in with your husband. The two of you had barely spent a minute alone, and were at each other's throats any time you were in the same room. He expected someone docile, sweet, and a little fearful of him the way that almost everyone else was. What he hadn’t expected was to be matched with a wife even more stubborn and intimidating than he was, you had become the first true rivalry he had ever experienced and it was thrilling.

It didn’t help him to find out that he had met the only person with a reputation worse than his own among the court, nor that you had found ways to win over his entire staff in a matter of days. Despite being incredibly talented and an excellent asset to have on his side, Yoongi seemed determined to prove that he was still the one in charge for those first few months. Everyday was a competition and the two of you had engaged in a seemingly endless battle of bickering and petty vengeance against one another. Your favourite of these occurred after he made it a point of removing you from a meeting with the generals. He should have known better than to mess with someone who was feared by the court and adored by both his family and his staff.

That next morning as the sun began to rise Yoongi was nearly blinded by the amount of light pouring into his chambers, waking up to the smell of burnt fabric and charred toast. You could hardly contain your laughter when one of the staff recalled being called into the sight of him slipping on his robe only to find that the right sleeve had been completely torn off. Tears ran down your face as you heard about him storming around the room looking for something to wear to meet you at the breakfast table only to find most of his clothes had been sent off to the tailor to be altered or repaired in some way and he had been left with an assortment of mismatched clothing and heavy winter suits. That morning neither of you felt willing to give each other the satisfaction of reacting to the other’s actions. Showing weakness was to show defeat, and neither of you planned on losing. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of just pride as you watched your husband shift in his seat clearly displeased with the current state he was in, almost laughing as he hobbled in missing his left shoe.

You had almost missed the defeated sigh he gave as he took his seat across from you. If he were like any other man you knew, he’d have given you the outburst of rage that you had been preparing yourself for. Instead he had a rather gentle gaze as he met your eyes from across the table and spoke in a soft almost admiring tone, “We can’t keep doing this. I mean seriously, destroying my curtains, burning my breakfast, and ridding me of my entire wardrobe in one morning. And why? I’ve done nothing to offend you.”

The servants quickly began backing out of the room in anticipation of another argument between the two of you.  “Nothing? You really think you’ve nothing wrong?” The icy glare you were so determined to keep directed at him was the only thing holding tears of frustration at bay. But you refused to let him or anyone else see you crying. “Yoongi, you undermine me at every opportunity available, making sure that I have no say in what is going on around me. I have no family here, no friends, no allies on my side. Everything here is about you, while I am constantly pushed aside and belittled by even your guards and servants. I was one of the most brilliant women my age. I learned the arts of battle, bribery, and blackmail by the age of five, and perfected each of them by eleven. And the worst part is all of that is going to waste, I am wasting away and it is all your fault.”

“I’m sorry I had no clue. I just thought you’d want a break from having to fight all the time, I guess I should have noticed this was wrong when you seemed so determined to argue at every opportunity possible.

“You really are an idiot sometimes.”

He laughed at this, the two of you finally sharing a moment of understanding and bonding over as you later called it his very best moment of complete stupidity.

As you sat there recalling all of this your eyes began to water and you let out a quiet sniffle. The two of you had been through so much since then and with very limited exceptions you wouldn’t change a thing. You may not have had the best of beginnings with each other, but he’d done his best to make up for that every day that you’ve shared since then. The two of you still bickered, but it was more affectionate and caring now that you’d decided to save your fury to defend one another.

“Y/N are you crying?” your best friend placed her hand over yours in a comforting gesture.

“No, of course not.” You tried to dry your eyes, but the gesture was not as subtle as you had hoped. “Fine maybe a little. I think I’m just feeling sentimental, all this wedding stuff had me thinking about when Yoongi and I were newly married and the time we had our first good fight”

“You still haven’t told me what happened to the shoes, and everytime I tried to ask the staff they just got really quiet and seemed like they were too afraid to speak.”

“Well, I took all of his left shoes and I had one of my maids put a box outside his room. Then I took most of them and put them away in the box, and I sent the rest away to be burned.”

“You burned his shoes”

“Only the left ones, and only the pairs I didn’t like. Besides if I were to do that now there would have been a lot more of them being burned, I swear just the smell of that shoe polish is enough to make me sick nowadays. Then again there’s been a lot of things that do.”

“Are you, you know?” The young queen-to-be asked, doing her best to emphasize the implied meaning.

“Am I what,” you asked, a challenging tone in your voice. It was obvious she knew, but if she wanted to ask she would have to use her words.

She gives you a knowing smile and pulls you in for a hug, “Congratulations Y/N!”

“Oh, shut up” you laughed trying to hide how nervous you were feeling. Yes she was your best friend, but this pregnancy was news you didn’t want out to the public just yet. “Today is your day, I don’t want to take away from that.”

She rushes to the clock at this realizing the two of you were running horribly behind schedule. As you rush through the halls together, you do your best to pin her veil in place and keep the train of her dress from collecting dust and dirt from the floor. Both of you pause outside the closed doors grandly looming before you, your faces warm and nearly out of breath.

You begin the task of fixing her appearance one last time before everything starts changing again. She was always so small and quiet when you first met. You never thought such a timid young woman would come this far, but something about her just spoke of being so much more than just another commoner. And now here she was in the most delicate white gown with layers of chiffon carefully draped over each other and tiny sleeves resting just off of her shoulders, looking more composed and regal than anyone you’ve ever seen before. The light reflects against some of the crystals sewn into her veil almost creating a halo around her. The light airy dress looked stunning on her and seemed even brighter as the two of you stood side by side. All the intricate layering and the bright white of her dress contrasted beautifully against yours. It wasn’t your original plan but the midnight blue gown and it’s simple pattern seemed to exaggerate your figure in the best of ways. It’s plain bodice and jeweled collar drew attention up and away from the changes you were hoping to hide.

The doors are drawn open and the two of you take a sharp breath as you begin the long anticipated journey down the aisle. To anyone else she would seem calm and composed, but you knew better, “You know, I’ve still got the carriage waiting outside. Say the word and we’ll start running. I’ll even lead the horses myself if that’s what it takes.”

You can see the slight bounce of her shoulders as she begins silently laughing. Looking around you begin to hold on to faces in the crowd, doing your best to remember where everyone was seated to use for later. It was a shock to see Namjoon and his new bride so close to the front, you thought they’d be in the back where she’d be hidden away from the prying eyes of so many nobles. After all, their relationship had been quite a scandal and she was much too far along to hide anything. What didn’t surprise you was the look on Taehyung’s face when he saw you and his fiance nearing the altar. The two of them were stupidly in love with each other and you could see that from a mile away.

You found yourself rather exhausted after all the excitement from the queen’s wedding, deciding to take just a short break at home before involving yourself with any of the court’s drama for a while. It was meant to be just a week, maybe two at the most but as time went by it felt much better to be in the manor with Yoongi than anywhere else. The two of you were still bickering like any other day, but being at home gave you a space away from the rest of the court once you’d started showing. The two of you became cautiously excited about your future child, still too worried to be fully invested but getting closer as each week went by.

There had been a few rough times along the way, but everything had been going well for the most part. That little piece of hope growing each day was worth any of the worries and discomforts you were facing, even the morning sickness that lasted much longer than you would have preferred. You thought things were getting better until another worrisome incident took place.

“Yoongi,  I started bleeding this morning, and something feels very wrong.”

“Are you alright?” He shook his head realizing his mistake, “I’m sorry that’s a ridiculous question. What are you feeling, is there anything I can do?”

“I’m scared Yoongs, I don’t know what’s going on and I can’t tell if it’s normal or if it’s going poorly again. It can’t end like last time, I can’t lose another. I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done, I just don’t want to be alone.”

He crawled up into the oversized bed beside you, gently taking you in his arms as he brushed your hair aside. “I know there’s nothing you or I can do and it’s completely out of our control, but I want you to remember I’m here and I will always love you no matter what.”

The midwife had a sad smile when she entered the room. Mrs. Lee was one of the oldest staff members serving the Mins, having delivered you herself. It warmed her heart to see the two of you curled up together so caring and gentle for once. She had originally been hired to act as a wet nurse, but when your mother went into early labor the midwife had been by her side. You’d practically been raised by her along with a few other maids, so when you found out you were with child there was only one person you wanted to have with you.

Mrs. Lee had seen you grow from a small frail infant to a rather intelligent young woman, and knew almost all of the struggles you had faced along the way. It was always her that you went to with any problems whether it was scraped knees or scheming nobles. Your first pregnancy was rough to say the least, and she was there for all of it holding your hand when everything came to it’s heartbreaking end.

And here she is now, doing her best to keep you calm as she conducts her exam. You begin to shift as you feel another one of the pains you’d felt earlier. It wasn’t horrible, only strange and unpleasant. Yoongi presses his lips to your forehead while you begin to play with his hands to distract yourself. The two lay holding tight to one another as you wait for the midwife’s news. As she felt your stomach, Mrs. Lee paused for a moment furrowing her brow before suddenly bursting out in a smile unlike any other.

“Your Grace, I have good news and even better news. First off your child is in perfect health at the time being.”

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, both of you feeling as though a large weight had been lifted.

“Second is those little pains you were complaining about. It’s not something going wrong that feeling is from the baby kicking. A lot of mothers complain about it being an odd feeling, but it’s good and it means that the baby’s doing well.”

“They didn’t kick last time,” you whispered.

“I know Angel,” she explained. “But you’re much further along this time, and you seem much healthier. Having some spotting this late is a bit concerning, but so long as you start getting enough rest and I keep checking up on you, I don’t think we have anything we need to be too worried about. I’m going to head out now and give the two of you some space, but you can call for me at any time even if it’s something small.”

Mrs. Lee excused herself and quietly left the two of you on your own once more. Yoongi loosened his embrace and turned to face you, there were tears in his eyes and the biggest gummy smile he’s had. You take your hand and place his against your stomach where your unborn child kept kicking. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while before he finally felt something, “They kicked! They actually-” He laughed and gave a joyful little sigh at this, “I love you so much Angel, you’re going to be an amazing mother.”

“I love you too Yoongs, I couldn’t do any of this without you. We’re going to be a great team, but I think our child is going to need a name pretty soon.”

Yoongi gave you an evil grin, “We should name her Yoonji”

“Absolutely not, I think I’m going to be sick,” you announced pressing your hand to your stomach. “We are not naming her after your sister, she’s too much of a b-”

“You can’t keep calling her a bitch, especially when we’re in front of others,” he tried to sound exasperated but the laughter that followed quickly put an end to that act.

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous argument the two of you kept falling into, surely there were more important things than your opinions and not so backhanded comments about his sister. “Please be serious. If you could choose any name for our child, what would it be?”

“What about Aria for a girl’s name?”

You smile and take his hand in yours once more, “I think it’s beautiful, but we’re not going to need it. We are having a son.”

“My Love, I have no doubt that you know just about everything but we’re not going to find out until they’re here. There’s no way of being sure.”

“No, I’m absolutely sure. This child will be our first beautiful little boy, and I know I’m right. It’s a mother’s instinct and I’m never wrong.”

“Then what are you suggesting, since you’re never wrong.”

“What about Hyun-Su?”

“It’s perfect.”

You pull him closer and reach up to cup his face between your hands, “We’re going to be good at this, right? They’re going to turn out better than we did.”

“I hope so,” he turns his head slightly as he presses his lips to each of your palms. “Regardless they’re going to grow up knowing that they have two parents who will love and fight for them no matter what.”

The two of you stayed under the covers, wrapped in this moment of relief and utter bliss at knowing that your child would grow to be safe, healthy, and above all else loved. What you didn’t know was that this joy would be short lived as much grimmer news was always just around the corner. You had found out quite some time before Yoongi, receiving the letter from one of the associates you had within the court. Oftentimes it paid to have eyes and ears throughout the kingdom, but for possibly the first time you regretted having this knowledge. The letter shook in your hands as you considered your choices, you could send help but you knew there would be some kind of trap lying in wait. There was no way you would risk losing Yoongi to such an obvious scheme, even if it meant sacrificing someone else. Throwing the parchment into the fireplace you watched as all of it crumbled to ash.

The letters kept coming, this time from the Southern Kims themselves each one growing more desperate in their pleas for assistance. It would be one thing to send soldiers, but you knew Yoongi would try to go with and fight the second he heard that Seokjin was in danger. The Kims were kind and had been there for you and your husband every time you needed help, they deserved better and it broke your heart to turn them away knowing that they and their children were likely to die.

At first you just hid them in the pockets of your dress, but after one had nearly slipped out in front of Yoongi you had taken more precautions in hiding the precious information contained in the writing. It began with storing them under the dresser, and then in your pillowcase, burning them the second you had a chance. You had been pulling up the floorboards in search of a new hiding place when Yoongi finally found out. Pushing the envelope under your skirts you had tried to keep him from noticing anything amiss. Unfortunately your husband was more observant than you would like to give him credit for and he had known you long enough to know how you’d try to hide something.

“Yoongi, you can’t go. These aren’t just another group of ruthless barbarians stupid enough to slaughter their own men, they’ll know that you’re coming and they will plan for that.”

“I’ll meet with the generals before I go, we’ll come up with a plan. It will be alright, I promise.” He took your hand in his willing you both to believe the words he said.

You pulled away from him as you stood, “Very well, we can meet with the generals and send troops to help the Kims. However, you are staying here.”

“No, Jin might get on my nerves at times but he’s one of my closest friends. I’m not going to do nothing while he and his family are at risk.”

“What about our family? I know I didn’t want to get too excited about anything, but we don’t have very long until we’re parents ourselves.”

“I’ll be back before the baby comes, without so much as a scratch. I promise.”

“Please don’t. Don’t make promises that we both know aren’t guaranteed.” You took a shakey breath, “Yoongi, I rarely ask anything of you, but this time I am begging you please don’t go. I can’t lose you- we can’t lose you.”

He said something, but you could hardly process the words as his footsteps echoed across the floor, he left you with the hollow sound of your bedroom doors swinging shut behind him and a simple apology mumbled from behind the sealed doors.

You refused to sit and do nothing as your husband led himself to slaughter, if there was anyway to prevent his death you would find it. Collecting all the debts and favours owed to you by the less than upstanding members of the court was just the beginning. It took more bribing and blackmail than you had bargained for, but you got other nobles to send the reinforcements you needed. Lady Park had been all too cooperative after you happened to mention a certain nude portrait and it’s current whereabouts, she and her husband sent twice the guards you had asked for and even provided maps of the area. As for the others, some were less generous but were still eager to compensate you for information or silence in one way or another. The Northern Kims were unable to send any troops of their own. However, Namjoon’s young wife had provided a sizable amount of gold and information on a mercenary group that was up to the job. You had nothing to use against them and didn’t know of anything they were in need of, but for some reason she had given you help regardless. It was a small kindness, but a greatly appreciated one in your time of need.

Everything was in place and you’d given the go ahead for them to approach the men surrounding the Southern Palace, but you’d yet to hear back from any of your troops. All of this had been meant as a backup plan in case something went wrong, but as days turned into weeks Yoongi’s chances of success were growing smaller. You’d taken to pacing the halls at night as your due date drew nearer, he should have been back by now.

“Y/N, you have to rest. You're putting too much stress on your body and that’s not good for you or the baby,” Mrs. Lee warned as she pushed your hair away from your face.

“ Well... seeing as how he’s the one causing all of this, you can take that up with Yoongi once he’s back. Until then I’ll be up doing everything I can to make sure that he comes home in one piece.”

Mrs. Lee didn’t seem too fond of your reply and folded her arms across her chest, “I’ll be sure to mention that, but until then I want you to be resting as much as possible and taking care of yourself. So little miss, you will be in bed, eating three full meals a day, and you will not be fussing over all of this anymore. What’s done is done and all we can do is wait.”

One of the maids came knocking at your door, disturbing your mandated rest. Somehow you’d become even more confined to your room after the slight back pains you’d felt that morning. You’d been told to get your rest and avoid getting too worked up. Mrs. Lee would be furious if she found out, but she wasn’t the one in charge here and you had told them to wake you at any hour if they had news from your husband. The young girl had placed a small parcel before you and saw her way out as quietly as possible. You tore the small bow apart, unwrapping it as quickly as possible, tearing the paper piece by piece until you felt shredded wet fabric against your hands.

From the mess you were able to identify one of Yoongi’s jackets, torn to bits and coated in sweat from the battlefield. You’d grown used to seeing things like this, but what stopped you in your tracks were the warm heavily saturated stains of blood that had seeped into the cut fabric. He’d sent you these before, but never in this condition. The two of you had a running joke that he could damage any clothing or armor he wore in a fight, so long as he came home unharmed. But this didn’t seem like it came from someone else, if he had been wearing this then it had to be his blood. Picking up the paper, you looked again for a ransom note, a threatening letter, anything that would tell you that he was still alive, but there was nothing else. He was gone and there was nothing you could do about it.

You felt a sob forming as a different kind of pain tore through you. It was a kind of pressure that brought you to your knees, crying out as Mrs. Lee rushed to your side. She helped you to the edge of the bed, helping you to lay back as she wiped the tears from your eyes.

“It’s going to be alright Y/N, we’re gonna get through this.”

“I can’t- I can’t do this alone. I’m not ready.”

Mrs. Lee takes your hand and squeezes it in hers, “You’re not alone, I’m right here with you

“That’s not what I mean and you know it, he’s gone.”

“Now that’s enough of that, you need to save your energy. I was trying to keep you from going into labor this soon, but it looks like it’s about time to push.” You shook your head at Mrs. Lee’s words as you tried to delay the inevitable. As much as you attempted to stall your labor, your efforts had been in vain as you entered the hours of pushing. Your vision blurred from falling tears as you cried out for the one person who vowed to be by your side for moments like these, all the while knowing that he was never going to walk through that door again

“Angel, I’m here.” Yoongi’s voice called out as the doors were thrown open.

“You’re hurt,” you commented as you took his face between your hands. He had a large gash running down his face, the cut at first glance seeming to go through his eye as well. As you started to remove the blood it became clear that it had been a very narrow miss, but was deeper than you had hoped.

“It’s only a scratch.”

“Oh really, If that’s only a scratch then all this is but a stomach ache and I should be up and about in a few minutes at most.”

“That’s hardly a fair-” Unfortunately for Yoongi, whatever argument he had planned was soon cut off by your yelling at yet another contraction. He climbed into the bed behind you, holding your hand as you cursed him for putting you in your current position.

Whomever said that the pain of childbirth disappeared from one’s memory the second they held their child was horribly wrong, and you wanted nothing more than to personally stab that person in the stomach so that they could feel a fragment of everything you went through. And yet, when you looked at your newborn son it felt as though all that pain were worth it. Yoongi had somehow forgotten about all the horrible things you had called him during labor, or at least decided not to bring it up for a very long time. Your child had made an early and all too exciting entrance into the world, and all of you seemed to be recovering from this in one way or another.

Yoongi had been healing very well, but it became apparent that his wound would leave a scar. Not that you minded, he’d teased you about yours since the very first night the two of you had known each other intimately. Even now as you lie in bed he still traces the two lines on each side of your spine, pressing a kiss to each of the spots he claimed must have held the wings of an angel before you had fallen.

“I think we’ve earned ourselves at least a full day of napping.” Yoongi commented, already pulling the covers over the two of you.

“Just one?” You asked, “If you ask me I think we should try and break our old record and try for at least two and a half days of sleep.”

“When did we,” he paused as the memory dawned on him, “Are you talking about the New Year’s when we were snowed in with the Park family. I remember being in bed for most of that weekend, but I don’t recall much sleep going on at the time.”

“I was talking about after all of that, we ended up being so tired that we spent our last couple days asleep. We could have gotten a few more hours of rest if their staff hadn’t woken us up.”

“Well, there’s no one to bother us now. And our son is sound asleep, so I think we should be too.”

The two of you glanced at the tiny figure in the crib across from you, he looked so small and fragile but you had been relieved to know that he would continue to grow into a strong and healthy young boy. He was only a few days old and you were already starting to notice that he had formed his dad’s same habit of oversleeping, “Hey Yoongs, I’m happy he takes after you.”

[imnotwolverine]

When In Dreams

Angsty Elf!Geralt x OFC one-shot

Summary: As an ancient war awakens, so does a love that knows no bounds. [Lord of the Rings AU with elf!Geralt x human OFC]

Author’s note: A sweet congratulations is in order for dear @mrsaugustwalker​ on her 5k followers. Hereby a one shot based on your prompt-lists! I hope you may enjoy it my dear -- as well as the many other fics you’ll hopefully receive! 

Word count: 3.511

Warnings: NSFW - lots of angst and trauma with a smudge of fluff and smut - mentions of death, physical and emotional trauma, violence, blindness, prostitution and mentions of torture

--

I dreamt of home last night. I could smell the damp grass, feel the hug of threadbare cloth and hear the storm that roared in the distance. And I could see; I could see those heavy clouds as they gathered like wads of grey moss over the once crystal clear skies. I could see them threatening with fire, the white electric serpents of the gods already slithering over deep grey. But it wasn’t the serpents’ fiery, splitting tongues that worried me as much, as did the eastern horizon where the sun still kissed the grass and the loud beat of war drums echoed over the rumble of the storm.

War was coming.

It wasn’t the first time these lands would be wrecked by violence and pain. In fact it was as common as drawing breath in Northern Rohan, and I knew no different life ever since my mother gathered me in her arms. We lost father before I could memorise him, and then some years later, with the pestilence and the failing of crops, my mother was next to pay the inevitable prize that any herb-gatherer would eventually pay; with the point of a finger and the burning of a stack of wood she was gone and I was suddenly cast-out and alone, my life as I once knew it now but a faint memory.

I left, only to start my new life a few miles east of the village, where I found this abandoned cot near the Great Dwimordene Forest where demons danced and flesh eating faeries feasted. I never dared enter the dark grove, but my long-kept fear for the great ghost stories didn’t hold footing either. I never saw them, those faeries and demons, the months turning years without a single sighting. But I did see him. Accidentally at first, his face torn between anguish and surprise as I just watched him from the tall grass, his yellow eyes sparkling like golden treasure in the shadows. 

I had never seen the like of a man like him before, but even long after he disappeared - just as quickly as he had appeared - I thought of those honeyed eyes and his pale long hair. Was he one of the forest demons? If so, why didn’t he come to claim me? Roast me on a spit and dance around the flames? Long days, weeks and months passed and as the memory of his eyes faded, the eastern horizon became restless, the storm that now brewed in the sky forming a battlecry for the courageous warriors who fought there, their wives and children left behind. 

Returning home after the gathering of whatever meagre supplies I could find between burned crops and crevices - roots and herbs mostly, I felt the first tears spilling from the heavens, cold and bitter like the saltwater that would soon billow down motherly cheeks. I hastened my pace on the beat of the drum and thunder, my eyes reverting back to the east, where the last of the sun was now swallowed whole, spitting out only darkness and death, death that rode a pale horse. 

Literally though. It looked like someone was speeding towards me. A rider.

I still wear the marks of that moment, in mind, body and soul, my now unseeing eyes remembering the pained expression of the rider’s face, an empty cry bursting from his lips. The white manes of his majestic mount danced in the fierce wind as the horse tried to free himself from the desperate clutch of his struggling rider. But alas, it was hardly a battle in the end, for the horse was too spooked and the rider too pained. With a thud his body fell down on the wet grass and the horse eloped, fleeing from the scene.

In that moment I realised the cause of his pain. A crude arrow stuck from the rider’s back, straight through the layers of leather and heavy cloak that now lay motionless in the waving sea of green. Was he dead? My eyes searched for his attacker, but all I saw was windy waving grass and sharp solid rock; the bare bones of Rohan, my home. And his grave now too, probably. With a hurried pace I forgot about my return home, my hair now dancing around my weary eyes as I ate the distance between myself and the man, my fingertips uncovering braided long brown hair and peculiar armour; swirling and elegant, which for a moment made me wonder if he was one of the famed Rohirrim horse lords.  

There was no time for wonder though, for Rohan’s earth was restless. A deep growl thundered out over the storm and in an instant I forgot how to breath as death came again. This time not riding a pale horse, but a beast that I hadn’t seen the like of before. Horse-sized, houndlike and deadly, his daggersharp teeth rattled in the chase they were laying on the lifeless man..and me. Me. Me. Me-me-me…I froze in place and let slow seconds eat away, until finally I gathered my senses, my only option now being the one that presented itself by the dagger I found beneath the man’s cloak.

Silvery sharp, it gleamed in the low light of the mighty storm, a storm that roared in my blood now too. I felt sick in my empty stomach, for I knew not how to defend myself, my shaking hand betraying my inaptness. The beast and his rider saw it too, the rider letting out a orcish cackle of horrific amusement. My heart dropped even lower as our eyes met, his redbrown beads shimmering like blood diamonds on black marred skin. He was hideous. And unfortunately for me, graceful too. With a simple hop he got off his great beast, his split tongue flaking hungrily over his barely existent lips.

He spoke then, but I didn’t know what that snake-like tongue spoke of, though I could guess it was most likely vile..and something to do with his crotch, which he grasped for illustratory purpose. Again I realised that I couldn’t move, my feet seemingly swallowed by the grass that danced and danced - almost as if taunting me for my own inability to move. For a moment I wished I was dead already, my heart thudding nervously in my ears as the orc strode closer, his blistered black hands dragging out a cruel dagger, jagged edges still glistening with blood.

The war was here.

‘Please.’ I begged pitifully, but all the orc did was cackle louder, his horrid tongue once again flaking over his lips with a hunger. And again he spoke, and again I didn’t understand, my own lip now shaking from more than just the icy rain, the heaven water rolling down my cheeks mingling with bitter tears.

After all these years of misery, this is how I’d die. Alone, abandoned and scared. If only I was as brave as the shield maidens. If only I knew how to.. The orc reached out and I surprised not only him, but also myself when I lunged forward, my dagger finding the soft tissue of his belly. He cried out, his once amused lips now curling down in disapproval as his own dagger was raised. Our eyes met and by some odd twist of destiny, he hesitated, offering me yet another opportunity to grasp for what little honour I could find in shoving him off, down onto the ground.

This time I was less lucky though, his free hand taking me down with him, our bodies now rolling for life and death in the restless green sea. Somewhere in the tumble he too had lost his dagger, his freed up hand instead opting to rip out my dagger from his black oozing wound. What happened next was worse than the death I anticipated. Worse than life up to that point had ever been. His beady eyes burned into me as he choked me in a deadly grip and took from me what I would never regain.

He gauged out my eyes.

From here on the world literally became black, my eyes no longer crying for they were not there at all. And as faith would have it, he paid for it as I cried bloody tears, the Valar striking him down with all their might. At least, I think that happened as I heard his sullen cries. Perhaps it had been the faery demons instead. Either way, I wished they would be remorseful and offer me the only thing I now wanted; a swift and painless death.

—

Gasping I sat up, my empty eyes blinking even though there was nothing to see. A warm hand on my naked back soothed me back into welcoming arms, the death I had once pleaded for seeming so silly now.

‘Sssh melleth-nîn.’ Geralt’s deep oak voice pulled me back to the land of the living. The land of the elves. My new home. ‘I’ve got you.’

I wished he had. And that he could keep me. But with my awakening, I too realised that I was to start yet another day of misery. Of whispers that betrayed that our slow-simmering relationship was frowned upon. The war had felt like a beautiful start of something new, but reality learned that the elves, despite the great tales of Beren and Luthien, were little fond of relationships between men and kin.

I sighed and turned in his arm, trying to imagine how his golden eyes were now looking at me with a silent warmth. How his lips curled slightly. In fact, I knew they curled up, my fingertips almost unwittingly tracing them. ‘Good morning,’ He rumbled gently.

‘I guess.’ I said, betraying my melancholy, his cheek instantly rubbing into my touch, like a dog would to console his owner.

‘I see more of those guesses each day and it pains me.’ His hand found my cheek and brushed away a tear that strayed there.

‘I’m sorry.’ My lip trembled as the pain of being unwanted tightened around my heart, ‘I just…’

‘Ssh, my sweet. I will not abandon you. You must know that. You keep my heart,’ His large hand placed over my heart. ‘and anything else is unimportant. I know the cause of your sorrow, and though Lórien has been my home, it is no longer. You are.’

‘What are you..?’

‘Come away with me. Let us find ourselves a home where we are both welcome. Both can live and laugh and love.’ He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my nose..and then my empty eyelids - a thing I both hated for it emphasised how imperfect I was, but also loved, for he loved me all the same.

Our love was literally blind. From the moment he carried me out of the rain and into his forest, to the first time he and I confessed that there was more than friendship between us. And though it pained me to take him from his beloved Lórien, it was clear that the life we wished for, wouldn’t be lived out here between the Mallorn trees. 

—

Our new home would be, quite fittingly, the Last Homely House, as was decided upon after he sent out requests far and wide. The good lord Elrond was welcoming to our indefinite stay and so, with the simmering war still pestering the lands, we started our arduous travel through long dark nights, our days spent in inns or trees.  

I could feel the ache of his heart, like it were my own, whenever he laid his hand upon bark, only to feel that these trees were silent. The world of men we travelled through was crude and harsh and even with his hair braided back and ears cloaked, people knew he was a foreign thing, his tree-like height and strength making them gasp and whisper when we set foot in small towns. 

But Geralt, my dear, didn’t relent. His warrior heart kept a steady beat as our feet again moved on, to yet another town, another waylay until the sun would come and travels were too dangerous. The long nights and days made us weary and cold, but our love held fierce as the fires on the mountain pass. We slept and wept and loved as one, and as our journey was soon to bring us to Rivendell, we felt that at long last the world would be kind to us. That our lives would find peace. 

We were fools to think such a thing, for we never set foot beyond the mountains, our treacherous journey ending in yet more pain as our destinies unwound. 

--

‘Geralt?’ I reached out for his warmth, but the cave was deserted, the meagre fire we had stoked gone cold. Outside the winter howled, silencing any other signals I could possibly pick up. I tried to ease my mind as I wrapped my cloak around my shivering frame. It's alright, don’t worry. He’s alright. He’s alright. I repeated the mantra as I listened and waited. Perhaps he had gone out. Elves were little sensitive to the wear and tear of extreme weather, so perhaps he had just left to retrieve more wood for the fire. Perhaps he had to relieve himself. Perhaps he...

‘NOOOOOooo.’ A cry echoed through the valley, soon followed by more voices. In tongues I knew too well now. Orcs. Quite instinctively I ducked away, hands following the rough rock as I tried with utmost terror to hear what was afoot. The voices were getting nearer and, where last meeting an orc I had frozen, now I ran, abandoning the cave for the bitter snowy wind that cut through my hair. 

And as I did, I let my hands follow the solid rock on my right, as my feet pushed forward. I trusted myself not to fail this time. Not now. Not again. This time I wouldn’t get myself in trou..

‘NOOOOOOOOOO.’ The heart crushing cry returned, now even more pained and broken. And his. It was his. I knew it was his. I felt my knees crack beneath the sudden weight on my shoulders, my heart giving way to the strength as our bond was stretched further and further. 

I sank down into the icy embrace of the mountains and realised that faith again, had decided I was to be alone. But not dead. I was never found by the orcs that took him from me and for days I then walked, my feet burning blisters and my skin bitten with ice. But none of it hurt as much as the loss of him, for whenever I heard the wind, I heard him too, his desperate cry calling out for me. Begging me to find him. 

But how, I did not know, for my blind eyes lead me more astray with every step. 

--

For a time all was forgotten. Our life together, those months of blessing, had become but dreams. The war wagered on and the lands remained restless as my journey continued, though I never made it to the last place I hoped to call home. Instead I drifted, my feet carrying me slowly over the licking waves of grass. And instead of a sweet life, again I was met with crudeness and pain, my ageing body the ship that broke through every storm. I ended my long drift in an inn, and where my heart still dreamed, my limbs were weary and in exchange for a bed I was accepting of the faith of lonely female flesh. 

They used me, they did. And each time a grunt with hairy thighs ground himself into me with pathetic whimpers and moans, I’d remember him instead. Smooth and gentle, great power wrapped in silk and whispers, his sing-song tongue telling me of the moon, the stars and the trees. How they all came to be, and would remain until his immortal days were long stretched and his soul weary. In his one hundred years he had already spoke broken and hushed, but whenever he was in between my thighs, his touch came alive and his brooding thoughts spilled from eager fingertips. Even now, years later, I could feel my skin burn with lust and love on the places where others now held on. 

All I could think of was him. 

--

‘Wench.’ A brusk rap on the door awoke me from a restless sleep. I wasn’t sure whether it was day or night anymore, my life seeming one never-ending loop of misery. 

‘Open.’ I croaked, my hands closing the coarse material of the robe that kept whatever little dignity I still had left. 

The door opened and the voice of the keeper sounded oddly kind to the customer he had managed to reel into his whoring house. The war had meant long lines of problematic and abusive customers, but apparently this wasn’t one of them. At least, not yet. And perhaps I kept my hopes too high and was this customer only loved, for he had paid handsomely to do whatever. 

The door closed again and, hearing the enthused whistle of the keeper, I knew that my guest was probably here, despite it still being so very quiet. 

I was slightly taken aback when he touched me, a rough thumb brushing over my hollowed cheek, moving over a scar I had received from one of my less loving clients. 

‘G’day.’ I quickly lowered my face and gestured at the bed, hoping he would be a quick and simple shag. But he wasn’t. Instead I finally heard him, heard his breath, a quiet hiccup barely managing to hide the sorrow that spilled from his hand that now returned to my face, brushing away the hair I had placed there to hide the wrinkles that had started to take away my youth. 

With every passing second I felt more restless, the touch of this man far more abrasive than I wished it to be. ‘You have received the rates from the keeper?’ 

A short silence followed and then suddenly he was there, around me, long arms entangling me in an embrace that pushed all air and sorrow out of my bones. ‘Melleth..’ He cried and instantly I remembered these arms, this smell, the tickle of long hair and the oak of his voice.

Geralt. 

My fingers braced him, finding he too had changed. He had become sinewy thin and as his lips crushed into mine, I felt that his cheeks too had lost their innocence. Scars riddled over his once unblemished skin and as I felt his silent tears on my fingertips I knew that a tree of a man like him wouldn’t cry so simply. He had suffered as much, if not more. 

What followed was the physicalisation of a dream I had long kept to keep myself going. The dream that one day he’d find me and love me again. The dream that had him unwrap me from these rough wools, so I could feel his fingertips caress my flesh. 

His rough fingers felt like home and as he carefully placed me on the bed I wished for the moment to not end, our lips locking in luxurious long kisses and soft hums and moans. I tried to forget about what I must look like to him, for it was now not only my blind eyes that made me imperfect. I had grown old, the chance of ever conceiving a child probably as slim as that he would love me like he once did. 

And yet, here he was, worshipping the remains of our love until the flame was rekindled and the bond that had grown so thin and weary, once more felt as strong as it had once been. 

We were one again. 

I felt it as he stretched me around him, I felt it as he rocked me to my first true release in years. I felt it as he too joined me in the epiphany of love, my womb welcoming his gift with lust, longing and sweetness. Salty tears streamed down our cheeks as we slowly rediscovered the planes of our flesh; his once beautiful skin now marred and haunted with the many years he had been captured in dungeons of evil. 

For a moment I wished I could look at him, could look into those treasure golden eyes and see him truly. See the pain and the pleasure that probably kindled behind the tears he cried. But never again I would, and so I just touched his cheek and laid him to rest on my breast, the release of finding each other being enough for now, the restless pub downstairs making the only sound above the soft hush of our exhausted pants. 

That night we dreamed together; of the short life we could share before my old bones would become to brittle and break. We dreamed of meadows and kisses of the grass beneath our unmarred skin. We dreamed of our first time, gentle hands drifting over the ocean of shivering gooseflesh, anticipation licking at our hearts. For it was then decided, that our love was stronger. And again he whispered: ‘Come away with me.’ 

--

End

--

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[omg-imagine]

⊱ Forget Me Not (10/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex and cheating

A/N: It’s shorter than usual but it sets up the next chapter 👀

Also, huuuuuge thanks to @ficsnroses​ for reading this over as well as being super supportive when I was having a mini meltdown while writing this :)) !!  

Anyways, hope you all enjoy!

Part 9

Eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the blinding daylight, Keanu almost didn’t recognize the white ceiling above. Gaze fixed on the crown molding, there was a small, yet discernable patch of grey in one corner, a soreness to his eyes. A light chuckle then escaped him, remembering when he repainted the room a year ago and had accidentally left the mark up there. He had promised to fix it, several times actually, but life got so hectic that he eventually forgot, and it was left neglected to this day.

Surrounded by the dark blue duvet he’d received as part of a house-warming gift years ago, the last time Keanu slept on this heavenly cloud of a mattress was the night you came home from the hospital. He’d gotten quite used to the smaller bed in the guest room, and waking up in this one was nearly unfamiliar to him. Shifting slightly, he stopped abruptly when he heard a soft moan to his left, feeling the warmth of another body pressed against him moving before the sheets settled again.

Turning to lie on his back, a sigh fell from Keanu’s lips at the sight of you curled up and facing the other wall. You were still in deep-sleep with one hand under your cheek, your hair spilled over the pillow, and your bare skin set aglow by the midday sun. The blankets barely covered your nude body from his eyes, and even after five years, it never failed to take his breath away.

You were beautiful, simply stunning, and utterly mesmerizing. Only a fool would choose to glance the other way when it came to you.

Mind drifting back to the night prior, the corners of Keanu’s mouth curled upwards into a soft smile. He thought about the tender way the two of you made love for hours, only falling asleep when dawn finally crept up, painting the skies outside a rosy hue. It was sweet and gentle, and Keanu hoped it was special for you, knowing it would be your first time with him. Though it had been an impulsive decision on his part, his heart swelled at the image of you experiencing pure bliss, something he had painfully longed to see again after months without doing so.

Waking up next to you felt like a dream to him, a place of endless peace and tranquility, one where the weight of his faults amounted next to nothing. For a moment, Keanu wished that it could stay this way; no guilt, secrets, and lies. Just you and him, home in your own perfect haven where the ugly past neither mattered nor existed. If he could, he would stay wrapped up in your arms forever, relishing the warmth and love he once took for granted.

But Molly’s ultimatum reminded Keanu that his world would soon fall apart. She had given him seven days to tell you the truth. Well, six now after he lost his chance last night. Even though that was generous of her, it wasn’t enough time for him to say goodbye. By this time next week, whether it be through Keanu or Molly, you would know of everything. Your heart had been broken too many times in past relationships, and he was sure that you would never forgive him for doing the same.

Keanu’s wandering thoughts ceased when you stirred awake beside him, letting out a yawn as you stretched out your limbs. Your eyes opened slowly, and after blinking a few times, you glanced at him with a tired yet bright and shining smile. Rolling onto your side, you rested your head on his bare chest, your fingers lightly skimming over the expanse, lazily drawing circles on his skin. His arm quickly came around your shoulders, pulling you close before gingerly kissing your temple then burying his nose into your hair.

“Good morning,” you mumbled softly, looking up at Keanu with your sparkling eyes.

“It’s the afternoon, baby,” he spoke, his voice thick with sleep yet filled with affection. “We slept through half the day already.”

“Well, we did have a very late night. It’s pretty understandable, don’t you think?” You giggled sweetly, nuzzling deeper into Keanu’s side. “So, about last night…”

He saw you bite your bottom lip, your gaze falling as if you’re pondering what to say next. A breath hitched in his throat as he silently studied your features. Keanu has never had someone so precious encased in his arms. Even with your hair mussed and eyes bleary, he still adored your natural state of beauty greatly.

“What about last night?” He questioned, genuinely curious.

A smile broke through your lips as you glanced back up at him. “It was perfect. I don’t know what else to say other than it was perfect. You are perfect.”

“I’m glad that you think so,” Keanu simply returned, slightly chuckling at the end as he craned his neck down to kiss you. “You’re perfect, too. So beautiful, and you feel so good.”

He couldn’t help himself. Keanu softly nudged you to lie back while he hovered above you, kissing a path down the column of your neck. He released a small groan when your nimble fingers tangled tightly in his dark hair, tugging them gently as your body arched upwards. You were craving more, and Keanu was willing to give you his all, realizing this would be one of the final instances that he could.

For a brief second, you stared deeply into his eyes, and that’s when he noticed the tears shimmering in them.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, purely concerned as he watched you quickly wipe away the wetness.

“Nothing,” you brushed off, your words coming out as a broken whisper. Keanu looked at you solemnly, placing his hand on one side of your face and stroking your cheekbone delicately with his thumb.

He hated seeing you cry.

“Y/N…”

“I’m not crying because I’m sad,” you finally reveal with a shake of your head and a tender smile. “I’m crying because this is everything that I’ve wanted. After Eric, I really believed that I would never find someone who loves me the way you do. I didn’t even think I could ever trust another person with my heart again, but then you came into my life.”

Keanu remained quiet, his body still on top of yours, but he held his weight with his elbows. His curtain of hair hid the sorrow and pain in his eyes until you reached up, brushing back the locks away from his face. He knew all about Eric and the emotional harm he had done to you, especially during the last few months of your relationship. He swore he would never hurt you the way Eric had, but he did.

“When I caught him with that woman the first time, it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, or smart enough. I wasn’t enough for him that he strayed away, and found somebody else better than me. And for a while, I thought it was my fault. I loved him too much to let him go, even though I was blaming myself for things that I shouldn’t have had.”

“You’re more than enough, darling,” Keanu intoned softly, intertwining his hand with yours and giving it a light, reassuring squeeze. “He didn’t deserve you.”

Neither did he.

“I realize that later on when I left, but the pain didn’t disappear until you showed up,” you added, sighing. “It’s only been months since I’ve known you Ke, or at least, that’s how it seems like because of the amnesia. But you make me feel like I’m everything. You make me feel so loved and so beautiful…”

Gently, you pushed Keanu to lie down before swinging one leg over to straddle his hips. He started to notice the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, a wave of regret washing over him after hearing your words. You trusted him, loved him, saw him as the man you dreamed and longed for when in reality, he’s not.

Not anymore.

“If I end up not gaining my memories back,” you murmured as your mouth ghosted over his jaw, teasingly, “I’ll be content with the ones I already have with you.”

This time, it was Keanu trying to fight back his own tears. He’d deeply miss these intimate moments shared only between the two of you. He’d miss the softness of your lips and the warmth of your breath against his skin. He’d miss the sound of your voice, the way your laugh instantly brightens up the room and how your breathless moans made him feel desirable. He’d miss every curve of your body and every perfect imperfection on your skin. He’d miss hearing his name slip through your lips as you cry out in pleasure with him holding you close.

The end was drawing near, and nothing would ever prepare him enough for that moment. Six more days, and it’s over.

He would then miss it all.

---

“Y/N? Hello?”

You jolted slightly in your seat, seeing Molly waving her hand in front of your face to grab your attention. In the midst of your weekend brunch, you had gotten lost in your thoughts that were mainly of Keanu. Truth be told, you were lovestruck by him, even more so after the night you finally made love. Memories of it often flooded your mind, reminding you of how caring and attentive Keanu was, and how amazing it all felt being with him.

You never knew love could feel like this.

“Sorry,” you spoke once you snapped out of your daydreaming, which has lately become a regular occurrence. “What were you saying?”

Molly chuckled, shaking her head. “I was asking how work was going.”

“It’s going great, actually,” you beamed excitedly. “We’re prepping for that big fashion shoot in Japan next month. I’m still nervous about going, but it’s one of those opportunities that I’d be crazy to pass up.”

“Well, you should definitely go. Not only is it a great addition to your portfolio, it’ll also be a nice sightseeing trip, too,” Molly encouraged. “I’ve been to Japan a couple of times for work and let me tell you, it’s absolutely gorgeous there. From the culture to the food, I wish I could go back and experience it all over again.”

“I was actually thinking of asking Keanu if he wanted to go with me,” you shared, a soft smile appearing on your face. “I figured it’d be a fun trip for the two of us and escape LA for a little while. As far as I know, he doesn’t have anything important scheduled during that time. Plus, he’s going to be busy doing a movie next year, and we want to spend as much time together before that happens.”

Molly’s grin fell, her mouth pulling into a tight line. “I mean, it’s up to you if you want to invite him or not.”

Your brows furrowed at the strange shift in her demeanor. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Ke when I get home later.”

“How is he, though?” Molly inquired. You noticed very recently how tense she got every time you mentioned Keanu, and at this point, it was becoming worrisome. Did she know something that you didn’t?

“He’s good. Honestly, he’s doing great—we’re doing great.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Y/N. Truly.”

You reached for the glass of water on the table, taking a few quick sips before sighing. “I told Ke I love him.”

Molly’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly, and you heard a short gasp. “You did?”

“Yes,” you confirmed with a single nod. “I told him the night of his birthday, and… and we slept together.”

“Oh,” she could only say, her shoulders dropping, and her blue eyes flickering away from your gaze. “T-That’s… wow. I-I can’t believe he did that.”

“What do you mean?” You probed, cocking your head to the side.

Molly glanced back up at you, her muscles rigid, and the taut expression on her face bringing you concern. “He’s never going to tell you. He can’t let you go.”

Her voice was low and alarming, and you almost didn’t catch it. “Tell me what?”

A sense of dread began to spread as you waited for an answer. Molly swallowed thickly, the air in the small cafe you were seated in felt heavy, and it made you uncomfortable. You didn’t want to think of the worse. In fact, you didn’t want to believe that what she had to say could be bad. You had shared the last piece of yourself to Keanu, but with the way your friend was acting, you started doubting your decision.

“Molly, what is it?!”

Salty tears began to prick your eyes the longer you sat there, not knowing. Your heart thumped heavily against your chest as panic continued to gnaw at your guts while your mind did its best to keep you calm.

Keanu was a good person; he could do no wrong. He loved you. He could never hurt you.

But what if he did? What if he did more than what he told you?

“Y/N,” Molly sighed, her hands reaching across the table to hold your clammy ones. “I’m sorry that I have to tell you this, but after what you’ve done, I don’t think Keanu is ever going to come clean.”

“What did he do?” You questioned, feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces. “Please, Molly. Just say it.”

“Keanu’s not the man you think he is...” she stated carefully, scared of your reaction.

The following words coming out of Molly were unbelievable at first. You didn’t want to accept that there was any truth in them. It didn’t seem right that Keanu was capable of doing such a thing, but even though she couldn’t explain in detail what had happened, deep down, you could feel it.

Memories of the timeline before the accident didn’t come back to you, but you remembered something else from the night that changed everything...

Red-hot, searing anger.

---

Dark clouds began to fill up the entire sky above LA as the city braced for another storm. Keanu peered through the drapes to see small water droplets falling from above. The rain wasn’t heavy yet, though it still worried him while knowing you could be driving somewhere out there. He had called you just recently and asked if he could pick you up, only to learn that you were already on your way home.

It was Saturday, and usually, the two of you would go out on a date, but because of the poor weather, you decided to have a quiet evening indoors. Keanu had planned to surprise you with a movie night, one of your favorite things to do with him. The tv was already set-up, and the buttered popcorn was cooling off back in the kitchen. All he was waiting for now was you, and you’d be here any minute soon.

Taking a seat on the couch, Keanu then let a deep breath out as he checked the time on his watch, the roaring sound of thunder suddenly disrupting the silence. He could hear the rain starting to pick up, and through the parted curtains, he noticed the trees swaying wildly from the strong winds blowing outside of the house. The scene out there was unsettling, and he could only hope that you make it back safe and sound.

Moments later, the keys jingling outside of the nearby door alerted Keanu of your presence, and he quickly got up from the sofa and unlocked the door for you. Swinging it open, he welcomed you with a relieved smile breaking over his face, which disappeared in a split-second after seeing how you glowered at him.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted light-heartedly, though your expression remained. “I’m happy you got home—”

“Don’t,” you sternly interjected, raising your pointer finger in front of him. “Don’t you dare.”

Keanu watched in trepidation when you pushed passed him and stalked into the house, the rain dripping from your wet clothes pooling at your feet as you lingered in the foyer.

“I-Is everything okay?” He stuttered out, though he already had a feeling of what this could all be.

But how did you find out?

Molly.

“No,” you muttered bitterly. “You know damn well that everything’s not okay.”

“I don’t understand,” Keanu lied, once again feigning ignorance even though there was no point in doing so anymore. “Sweetheart, let’s get you dried off first. You’re shivering, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“Stop it, Keanu. Just drop the act!”

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, letting the tears fall freely down from your eyes. Keanu cautiously approached you, his fear finally unfolding in front of him, and there was no way around it this time.

“Y/N, I need you to calm down…”

“No,” you shot back angrily. “I need you to tell me everything, Keanu. What exactly happened between us?”

Keanu froze, his chest tightening at your simple yet difficult request. He wasn’t ready to do it today, but he had no other choice.

There was no more avoiding, no more lying, and no more hiding.

This was it.

This was the end.

This was the goodbye Keanu dreaded. The long, dreaded goodbye to the woman he loved.

Part 11

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer​ @fanficsrusz​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @awessomness​ @meetmeinthematinee​ @ringa-starr​ @ficsnroses​ @iworshipkeanureeves​ @keandrews​ @greenmanalishi​ @feminine-machinegun​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @lussdew​ @rdjloverxxx​ @flaminasteroid​ @danceoftwowolves​ @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @allie1804-fan

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Drunk - Gar Logan

Gif:  _Savion on Tenor

Word Count: 1.3K

Paring: Gar Logan x (f)Reader

Summary: Gar ends up stupidly drunk and Jason Todd is to blame.

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

Tagging: @ninergirl1d​

________________________________________________________________

It was 100% Jason Todd’s fault. Of course it was, who else would sneak beer and tequila into the tower when Dick forbid the underage Titans from drinking. The ‘grown-ups’ were out on business and so the baby Titans were free for the night, which is when Jason pulled out the drinks and yelled ‘LET’S GET LIT!’ before tossing a bottle to Y/N, who quickly caught it.

‘I don’t know,’ Rachel frowned, folding her arms. ‘If we get caught, we’re gonna get in serious trouble.’

‘You don’t have to drink, Rach,’ Y/N assured her, making Jason nod in agreement as he took the cap off his drink, taking a swig.

‘Yeah, don’t feel pressured,’ Jason said as Y/N gestured for him to take the cap off of hers, which he did. She smiled in thanks before taking another bottle and walking over to Gar, who was sitting on the sofa.

‘Got you a drink,’ she said, handing it to him.

‘Thanks,’ he smiled at her, ‘would you mind?’ Gar asked holding the neck of the bottle out, knowing how she could take the cap off. Y/N smiled cheeky before pointing a finger at the metal cap, letting a small, spark of lighting out of the tip which struck the cap, sending it flying off into the air.

‘Why’d you like that so much?’ Y/N chuckled, taking the spot next to him on the sofa.

‘Why don’t you?’ Gar shot back, hinting at to how he saw her ask Jason to take the cap off. He took a swig and cocked his eyebrow.

‘When you nearly electrocute someone to death, you tend to avoid using your powers.’

‘Well, that’s valid,’ Gar coughed and nodded. Y/N had avoided talking about her abilities since the Titans knew about them. She had them, end of discussion. No more needed to be said about it. That didn’t stop them from wanting to know, but Y/N held her cards close to her chest, only using her powers when absolutely necessary.

‘Don’t tell anyone,’ Y/N asked him in a small voice, ‘it’s not something I like people knowing about. It was a big thing in town and it nearly got me killed.’

‘Course,’ Gar assured her. He didn’t blame her for not wanting others to know. Y/N came from one of those towns, those places where those who were different were outcast, and that was if they were lucky. Worst case was they were experimented on or killed. Y/N was fortunate in the fact that she managed to escape, not everyone got that. ‘Can I ask something?’

‘If you must.’

‘Is that how you found out that you, you know…’ ‘are a freak?’

‘You’re not a freak, I was going to say gifted.’

‘You say tomato, I say to-mah-to,’ Y/N shrugged, taking another swig.

________________________________________________________________

Gar, unsurprisingly, was a complete and utter lightweight. Whenever he finished one bottle, Jason was handing him another one. There was a constant stream of booze down his throat and so, of course, he quickly got drunk. Drunk Gar was no harm, a complete sweetheart really, but to Y/N, who had been given babysitting duty over the green haired lad, he was a nuisance. She liked Gar, a great deal really, but she didn’t want to spend her night watching Gar and making sure he didn’t pass out in a puddle of his own vomit. She wanted to relax.

‘Waaaaaay, Heyyyyy,’ Gar giggled as he stumbled up around, Y/N trailing after him. He spun around, wobbling as he did, putting his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. She was significantly more sober than Gar was. ‘You are my favourite person in the whole entire universe – you know that, right?’

‘Thank you, Gar,’ Y/N smiled. Gar had, in fact, told Y/N that same comment about twenty times in the past ten minutes, promptly forgetting that he had before repeating it. Total lightweight. Y/N had learned to just thank him and let him carry on.

‘Why don’t you have a boyfriend?’ Gar asked, pouting and tilting his head to the side. ‘You’re sweet, smart, cool, and super beautiful. How don’t you have, like, ten dates a night?’ He plonked himself onto his bed, sitting on the edge, letting Y/N take the spot next to him.

‘I don’t know,’ Y/N shrugged. Gar was drunk enough that he sure as hell weren’t gonna be remembering this conversation, Y/N thought, so why not take the opportunity to clear her mind. ‘I’m not a very trusting person, Gar, and you know that. How’d I know the difference between the guy who wants to kiss me or kill me for being a freak?’

‘You’re not a freak,’ Gar told her softly, placing his head on her shoulder, ‘you’re wonderful.’

‘I’m a freak,’ Y/N said quietly, ‘I was born with this unwanted ability to control lighting, and if I don’t control it well enough, I hurt the people I care about.’

‘That doesn’t mean you’re a freak,’ Gar said, ‘and anyone who wants to kill you will have to go through me to get you,’ he declared lifting his head and looking her in the eye, ‘cause I’m the guy what wants to kiss you.’

‘You do?’ Y/N stared at him. It completely took her by surprise. Maybe being on Gar Duty wasn’t so bad, if the sweet boy revealed how he felt about her.

‘Very much so,’ Gar nodded drunkenly, ‘Your lips look so lovely and soft. It’d be like kissing a cloud…’ he trailed off staring at her.

‘You’re drunk, Gar,’ Y/N chuckled, looking down as she turned red. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’

‘Course I know what I’m saying,’ his chest puffed out, ‘and I’m not drunk. I had the same amount as Jason!’

‘That’s what I mean,’ she smiled, ‘come on, lay down.’

‘Hey, hey,’ Gar pouted, ‘I don’t know what you’re playing at here, but I’ve got a girl I’m in love with!’ He said, blinding trying to push Y/N off the bed, ‘I don’t want Y/N to catch us like this.’

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, covering her mouth as she fell onto the ground from Gar drunkenly shoving her. ‘Gar!’

‘Y/N?’ he frowned in confusion, ‘Y/N!’ he then said with glee while she got to her feet.

‘Hey you,’ Y/N said through giggles, ‘why don’t you lay down and get some rest?’

‘Well, I don’t want to.’

‘Why not?’

‘Cause I wanna cuddle!’ His eyes grew large, ‘can we cuddle please?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘It’ll help me sleep.’

‘Alright, fine,’ Y/N nodded as she laid on the bed, letting Gar snuggle into her as she wrapped her arms around him.

‘You’re comfy!’

‘Thank you, Gar.’

________________________________________________________________

As the sun shone in the following morning, Y/N felt Gar snuggle in deeper to her as he groaned, trying to shield his eyes from the sun.

‘Ugh, my head!’ He moaned.

‘I did warn you about drinking,’ she chuckled.

‘Did you?’

‘Good God, you were so drunk last night, of course you don’t remember a damn thing.’

‘Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid,’ Gar said as he rolled off of Y/N and pushed his head into the pillow. ‘Wait, why are you in my bed?’

‘You refused to sleep unless I’d cuddle you.’

‘Oh, God!’ He whined, ‘I hate myself.’

‘No,’ Y/N smiled sitting up, ‘it was sweet. You said I was comfy.’

‘PLEASE, STOP!’

‘You also said you want to kiss me.’

‘NO!’

‘No, you don’t want to kiss me?’ Y/N frowned in confusion. She had to admit, the thought of Gar being so shocked and upset about the thought of kissing her hurt more than she wanted.

‘That’s not it,’ Gar shook his head furiously and sat upright, ‘I… didn’t want to tell you how I felt when I was stupidly drunk. I wanted to be sober.’

‘Well, you’re sober now, right?’

‘Well, yes…’

‘Then tell me now,’ Y/N said in a soft voice as though speaking any louder would shatter the moment.

‘I really want to kiss you,’ he whispered, placing his hand on her cheek.

‘Then kiss me,’ she said as Gar leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers, both smiling happily at Drunk Gar for finally having the courage to tell Y/N how he felt.

[prescription-ten]

Touch Starved - Hwang Hyunjin

[ I don’t own the GIF]

Title:  Touch Starved

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Genre: fluff, soulmate AU

Warnings:  no warnings, this was written last minute though, sorry if i missed anything in editing. mentions of hearing and sight impaired people. otherwise enjoy. 

Tag:  @vitaminhyunjin​ i hope you like this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night I dreamt I was with him again. I am still not sure what he looks like, but I can feel the warmth of the sun, and the morning dew that has settled on the grass soak into my clothes. But most importantly, I can feel his head on my lap, his hand over my knee and I can feel his hair between my fingers.

I can make out the shape of his body in my head, along with the sound of his breath as if his mouth rests against my collarbone, or perhaps the side of my jaw. Either way, the feeling of his spirit kindles with mine and it blooms and even though I cannot see colour yet, I know that together we would create a beautiful symphony of sound and colour.

So, when I wake, and I feel my hands under my pillow and the sheets wrapped around my legs, I can’t help but feel as if my side is now cold, as if he truly was here with me. I stretch my limbs, arching my spine and spreading my toes and fingers until I hear a resounding crack before slowly sitting up.

The rest of the morning would go by uneventfully, my coffee was per usual, shower – short and sweet. By the time I was ready, it was almost eleven am so I began heading to a café around the block which had become one of my favourite spots since moving to a new city, a new country in fact. I had moved from my home country all the way to Seoul, South Korea for an incredible job opportunity. For years, I studied sign language and teaching and wanted to go into work with deaf children, teens, and adults, and I had done just that.

I loved my job, I loved the kids I worked with and I loved seeing the shine in their eyes as they learn new signs, as some of them get their first sets of hearing aids, or as some graduate from my classes. It brings along an amazing feeling, knowing that I have made an impact and helped in some way.

For some of the older ones, I had become friends with and still speak to them to this day. Many of them had told me about their job opportunities, families, and soulmates.

As a society, we have monetised a life well-lived by the discovery of our soulmates. Each of us have one, some find them early in life, and some much later, but we always find them. Today, I turn twenty-two. Every one of my friends and family had found their soulmates by twenty, so it’s a little easy to say that I have waited longer than most people I’ve ever known. The latest discovery I had heard of was from one of my students, who had told me their sibling had not found their soulmate until they turned thirty-one. All of us would stay colour-blind until we found our soulmate and when our soulmate died, we would be left in a world colour-blind excluding our soulmates favourite colour. Quite morbid in all honesty.

I dearly hope I do not have for him as long as their sibling had to wait.

The coffee shop was more quiet than usual and some bleak light shone through the windows, illuminating almost all of the booths and half of the tables scattered throughout the room. I approached the counter and purchased an americano and a ham and cheese croissant. I almost stayed inside the café but after glancing around at the empty space, I decided to walk to the park, finding a bench mostly untouched by sunlight. I stayed there for numerous hours before heading home.  

Hours went by before my head hit the pillow again and I hoped dearly I would b able to visit him again.

But I did not get to meet him for another week, each time my head hit the pillow, I dreamt of nothing and woke up more restless than the previous night. After a week, coffee had become the one thing helping me throughout the day as I struggled to stay focused or awake no matter how much I slept. After the seventh day, I began to feel the fatigue even more-so than usual, and religiously headed to the café around the corner from my apartment. Luckily there wasn’t a line up and the staff recognised me and put through my usual and feeling dizzy, I sat down in a booth, I didn’t want to risk heading to the park and risk fainting where I might not be found for a long period of time.

My brain was feeling a little frazzled, my eyesight felt off and I could not understand why, but as I sat there trying to process everything happening and focus, I noticed that my eyesight was clearing up, some colours coming through so briefly I barely noticed. I began to stare at the menu, watching the muted greys and blacks turn into colours I hadn’t been able to see before. He was so close to me. I looked up; my eyes wide as the colours grew bolder. He must be so close, just out of reach. I sat on the edge of my seat, feeling some sweat appear near my lower back, I hope I don’t smell bad. I must look terrible; I wasn’t prepared to meet him yet when I looked like a casual disaster.

I became very aware of the bags under my eyes, of the hoodie that I wore which was neither a name brand nor that flattering in all honesty. But the colours didn’t feign at all yet. Surely if the universe decided that this was the time, a silly hoodie wouldn’t ruin it.

I heard the chime of the little bell at the front of the café and my head swung around to face it. The instant my eyes locked with his face, I felt my vision go blurry before clearing again and suddenly I could see him in full colour. In came a young man with dark hair that looked like it sat below his chin, it was nicely tied back with some framing his face. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie as well and I decided that it was my favourite colour on him, even if I didn’t know what colour it was. In hand he carried a cane which was tethered to his wrist and it was then with shock that I realised he must have been blind or sight impaired.

“Hi Hyunjin!” The male staff member called from the counter, “Would you like an americano again?”

Hyunjin smiled, cautiously heading for the counter, “Yes please, Max. How have things been this week?”

“They’ve been alright, it’s been a bit slow recently but all of our regulars are still coming in which keeps us busy still.”

“That’s good to hear, do you mind walking me to that booth I like?” He was so polite.

“Yeah, I can do that for you, I’ve also charged the drink through your loyalty card, this one is free.”

“Thank you, Max,”

“It’s seriously no problem, you know you’re one of our favourites so we will always treat you well.”

I watched as Max walked Hyunjin to the booth two down from my own, and Max seemed to notice my gaze locked to Hyunjin and he stopped by my booth on the way past, “Is everything alright, miss?”

“That… That young man, does he come in very often?”

“Yes, miss… Why do you ask?” Max seemed very confused.

“I’ve just never seen him in here before… but seeing him today brought colour into my life… Do you think he would mind if I approached him?” I couldn’t help but stammer a little, trying to explain my strange behaviour.

Max’s eyes seemed to pop out of his skull, “Wait, miss really? Well! Of course! He wouldn’t mind at all! You should definitely go and introduce yourself.”

I nodded, my vision going back to Hyunjin who currently had his eyes closed and face towards the sunlight. I stood from the booth as Max hurried back to his station and I felt the nerves kick in two-fold as I took a deep breath.

I made my way to his table, I gulped and finally spoke, “Uh… Hello? My name is Y/N, would you mind if I sat with you?”

He turned to face me, his gaze went straight through me and it gave me chills, “Oh hello! I’m Hyunjin and of course, go ahead.”

He did seem a little confused by my strange offer so I spoke up, “I’m sorry to come out of nowhere I just… Well I was sitting a couple of booths down and I saw you walk in and…” I felt so tongue tied.

Hyunjin smiled sweetly, “It’s alright, take your time, love.”

My heart fluttered, “Well, I saw you walk in and I’ve been feeling fatigued all week and today I was going through something I’ve never gone through before, and when you walked in and I saw you, I saw colour for the first time in my life.”

Hyunjin sat there quietly for a few moments before he spoke up. “You’re being truthful?”

I was a little shocked by the question, “I--… Yes. I am.”

He smiled again, “Well, I’m almost completely blind, but I can see light when it’s bright enough. I’ve dreamt of my soulmate for many years, trying to remember the sensation and the feel of them… May I touch you?”

I stayed quiet, looking at his beautiful smile, “Yes.”

He slid his hands across the table, and I met him halfway. His fingertips were incredibly warm in my palms, I heard his quick intake of breath and prayed it was a good sign. His hands moved very slowly in my own as he felt each crevice, he touched my fingernails and followed all of their ridges before moving over my knuckles; from there his hands wrapped around my wrist, his hands were big enough that his fingers easily touched each other. He moved up my forearms, he was now leaning over the booth table, trying to get further.

“Would this be easier if I came closer?” I asked, hesitant.

He paused, “… If you’re comfortable, that would be helpful.”

He started to pull away, but I held onto one of his hands and gently held it as I stood and moved around the table, I watched some red flush cover his cheeks and he slid over so there was more room next to him.

Once I had sat down, I picked up his other hand and after a moment he moved his hands back to my forearms and continued the journey up. His hands moved over my shoulders and collarbones until his fingertips brushed the base of my throat. His fingers delicately moved up and he touched the lobes of my ears, followed my jawline before once again heading upwards where he lingered over my lips, the tip of my nose and I closed my eyes as he brushed his thumb pads over my eyelids and eyebrows.

He pulled away, and seemed to think for a moment before speaking again, “May I… This is going to seem strange, but can I hug you?”

I was unsure but I agreed, “Of course,” I leaned in, touching him softly so I didn’t shock him. I slid my arms underneath his and wrapped them around his waist, locking my fingers together gently before leaning in even closer. I laid my head on his shoulder, with my face pointing away from his neck. Hyunjin still seemed a little surprised but he was quick to hug me back, pressing the side of his face onto the top of my head with his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

I felt tears begin to surface as I hugged him. He was so warm and everything about him seemed to feel so right, I felt his chest stutter a little before he pulled me in closer, “I’ve been waiting a long time for you, Y/N.”

I chuckled and squeezed him tighter before pulling away, he was hesitant to let me go but he had the biggest smile on his face and I felt like the luckiest person in the world to have been fated to him.

Months passed and soon Hyunjin was fully moved into my apartment. Our families were extremely happy for us and I found that Hyunjin had a very large group of extremely supportive friends that were almost as lovely as he was. I ended up fitting in quite well with the boys, one of which was actually a sibling to one of my current students who – by the way – had been enthralled when I had told them all I had finally met my soulmate, and they were even more intrigued upon finding out that he was in fact blind.

But, sitting here on the couch with Hyunjin’s head in my lap and with his hand resting on my knee, I couldn’t stop myself from entangling my fingers in his soft hair and began to smile at myself. Sitting here, I know there wasn’t anything in the world I would want to change, except maybe, I would have stayed and sat inside that café just a little earlier on in life. I would have sat in daily if I had known that little cafe would bring me Hyunjin, my love. Hyunjin, you leave me wanting more from life than anyone ever has, you leave me touch starved, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Hyunjin… I love you.”

He twisted around so he faced me, “I love you more, though.”

[starrose17]

Wincest fic idea, Battlestar Galactica!AU

Ah yes, my fall back fantasy no matter what fandom I’m in, the Battlestar Galactica 2004 AU, now for wincest! No matter what fandom I’m in I ALWAYS resort to a BSG!AU. Cos there is so much angsty love and darkness and hope potential, and in this one Sam is a sleeper Cylon agent (taking on mostly Boomers role in the series), and he’s gonna have to be an adopted brother for this to work as Dean is human.

So yeah, read below because I always LOVE the love and angst in this fantasy, its not exactly a fic...though it feels like i’ve written one already, this got quite long ^^;

Dean and Sam are both Viper pilots on the Galactica, but it was never Sam’s first choice.  He was raised on the Galatica after he was adopted as a baby, along with his adoptive brother Dean and his father, Admiral John Winchester, who runs the ship. He was trained as a pilot next to Dean, but left after a huge argument to pursue his education on the ground.  In fact two separate arguments, one very public one with his father on the bridge of the ship, the other privately with Dean, for they had been sleeping together for years and leaving Dad meant leaving Dean, but still Sam turned away, shouting at Dean for being Dad’s “perfect little solider”,  and Dean was furious and hurt, but so was Sam.  

Two years later the Galactica is due for retirement and for the ceremony Dean plucks up the courage to turn up at Sam’s place on Caprica asking for Sam to come back to fly in the ceremony flyby, for old times sake, that it wouldn't be the same to say goodbye to the ship that raised them both without him there. Neither of them mention they haven’t spoken to each other at all these two years.  Neither of them mention their “relationship” before, especially as Sam’s girlfriend Jess was in the room.

Reluctantly, Sam agrees, but makes a point of telling Dean not to tell their dad he was coming.

So Sam heads up to the ship and gets geared up, the other pilots that he knows from before shocked he is there, some greeting him happily like an old friend, others hating him for turning “on the old man”, as the Admiral was often called. 

Still Sam gets in a Viper with his brother flying formation beside him, and Dean cannot stop grinning, seeing his little brother back in uniform, back in a viper, because no matter how much he says he hates it Sammy was always the best pilot out of everyone.  Except Dean, of course.  So Sam does the flyby as he agreed, and sees their father through the large dome window on the ship giving his speech to the crew, memories and regrets and still anger running through him.

“You didn’t tell me you’d made CAG.” Sam says quietly when they’re alone in Dean’s room after the flyby, a cabin not shared with the other pilots as he was now in command of them.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”

An awkward small smile come on Sam’s lips, “I guess there’s alot we haven’t spoken about in quite a while.”

So they talk, and talk, and get closer and closer as the barriers come down and the forgiveness starts to set in, and when Dean quietly whispers that he’s missed Sam so much, so much, Sam finds himself kissing his brother for the first time in two years, and Dean is pushing him down onto his bunk and getting his hands up underneath that uniform and suddenly everything is as it should be as though nothing had ever changed.

Until the cylons suddenly attack.

So picture the series going on, and Sam finds himself blacking out and waking up in strange places, though he never tells Dean.  He also doesn’t exactly reconcile with his Dad, but when he finally finds out Sam is stuck aboard with them all as they FLT their way through space trying to avoid the cylons, the Admiral does give his son the biggest hug, simply relieved to know he is here on board and alive, unlike all the millions of people dead.  

Including Jess. 

Dean and Sam get closer and basically live together in Dean’s cabin, and despite the strange blackouts, which he doesn't want to worry his brother about, Sam is beginning to find himself happy.  He plays cards with his brother and the other pilots, just like they did once before, gets drunk with them, gets in the vipers to battle against the cylons when they make their moves, with Dean constantly at his side, protecting him, protecting each other. He mourns those they loose, getting tired and upset and angry with the universe for what it was doing to their slowly diminishing race, but at least he had Dean.  The blackouts get worse, and the latest one he found himself sitting alone in the locker room, dripping head to toe in water, and doesn’t know why.

But then the opportunity to blow up a base ships emerges, using a stolen reader from a captured cyclon raider, enabling one ship to fly into the baseship thinking it’s one of their own and then plant a nuclear warhead there, and Dean and Sam volunteer.

Once on the hanger deck of the baseship they rock, paper, scissor who gets to go outside to plant the bomb, and Sam goes, with Dean staying on the shuttle ready to escape at a moments notice. Sam places the bomb, all set and ready to detonate on a countdown, when he turns around and sees down the large passageway what looks like a small army of cylons walking towards him, but....but this can’t be...he shakes his head, he’s dreaming, a nightmare like those that have always plagued him, and he blinks and blinks again because no, no, and he backs away as dozens of identical cyclons looking just like himself walk towards him, telling him not to be scared, that’s it’s alright, come with them.

In terror and utter denial confusion Sam races back onto the shuttle, they fly off, the bomb explodes and the  baseship is destroyed, and back on Galactica everyone is greeting them as heroes, clapping and cheering. Their father walks towards them, shaking Dean’s hand and pulling him into a hug, he goes to offer his hand to Sam, another hopeful brief moment of bonding between them, when with a genuine sweet smile Sam offers his hand back and two loud bangs echo around the room, for Sam’s holding a gun, and has just shot his own father twice in the chest, and suddenly everything is chaos. Dean is on the floor with his dad, hands over the blood pouring from the two holes in his chest, alternating between staring in horror at his dad and horror at his brother, who suddenly seems to snap out of a trance as others are piling on him, grabbing him and holding him, and as he sees what he’s done and the look on Deans face, he screams, and screams, and at the same time a massive explosion rips through one side of the ship, where the bombs that Sam had planted inside the water tanks explode, which explains why he was dripping wet.

So now Sam is in handcuffs and in an interrogation room being tortured, being told he is a sleeper cylon agent and to tell them everything he knows, and where the other bomb is that has been counted as missing but wasn’t one of the ones that blew up the water tanks. Sam’s mental state is a mess, he doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t know what happened, he’s a cylon? Flashes of his identical twins marching towards him flash across his mind, No, NO!! No he can’t... Dean....and they’re punching him cutting him and drowning him in buckets of water as they hold his head underneath as he squirms and flails against the lack of oxygen.

“Why don’t you just turn off your pain?  You’re a robot, why suffer like this?” one his torturers asks, and Sam just lowers his head, tired of answering he doesn’t know to every question, and terrified for the state of his father because no one will tell him, and Dean...oh god Dean what must he be thinking....so he asks for Dean, over and over again no matter how much they hurt him, no matter how many tears of agony runs down his face, and eventually one of them tells him that Dean doesn’t want to see him, Dean is having his own crisis.

Dean has stayed in his cabin, pacing up and down, cursing, being told to get out of the medical bay as his father went in for surgery. How could Sam have been a cylon all this time and Dean not have realised?! How could Sam, his baby brother, and who he loved more than anyone could possible love another person, be a cylon? The destroyer of their race? How could he have...touched him, loved him, fucked him, it was making him feel sick and furious and a fool for being led on. Their father was alive if in a critical condition, and now they had a water shortage issue and now his brother was a fucking cylon wtf!!!  At this stage he’s too blinded by anger and humiliation and shock to realise of course he still loves him completely, but he’s gonna realise that too late.

Eventually, they have to get Dean in to talk to Sam, because as far as they’re concerned Sam is refusing to cooperate and maybe seeing his “brother”, for they all knew Sam had been adopted and now certainly knew they weren't related with Sam being a cylon, would perhaps spark of bit of so called “human” compassion.  And Dean doesn't want to, god he doesn't want to go in there, but he does for the sake of the lives the last bomb may take, so he enters the room. Sam’s face lights up like fireworks in the sky at the sight of him, Dean sitting down at the table between them, refusing to look at Sam

“Where’s the other bomb Sam?” he asks quietly to the table, and Sam just looks at him, just looks, and despite the blood on his face and torn clothing and hair still dripping from being half drowned, he smiles, smiles because he hasn’t seen his brother in he didn’t know how long.

“How’s dad? Is he okay they won’t tell m-”

“He’s not your dad.” Dean will reply, just as quietly, “Where’s the bomb?”

And Sam’s heart is breaking, and he tries to reach for his brother but the chain cuffing him to the edge of the table prevents him.

“I don’t know Dean.”

Dean bits his lip in a held back anger, taking a shaking breath to calm his frayed and betrayed nerves, “If you have any shred of love left for me in that...whatever it is that makes up your brain, then don’t make me sit here any longer than I have to and tell me where the last bomb is. Tell me everything you know about the cylons so I can get out of here.”

Sam is silent for a moment, so sad and terrified for his own life and seeing Dean treat him this way, not even looking at him... 

“If you were told, right now,” Sam began, so softly, “that you were really a cylon, Dean.  Would you suddenly know all their secrets?  Would you know everything about them? I don’t know anything. Please.......tell them to stop hurting me.”

It’s then Dean finally looks up at him, and for a split moment a look of utter shock and terrible caring pain crosses his face at the image before him, cos there’s blood everywhere, even on the walls, and Sam is shaking, his face and body is cut and bruised, his hair lanky and his breathing is laboured. Dean opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t know what, and suddenly he shaking his head and standing up, turning to the door.

“I can’t do this.” he mutters, ignoring Sam’s cry of his name behind him as the doors slams closed.

Getting nothing out of him it’s decided to throw him out the airlock, he has no rights he’s the fucking enemy, not even alive, and now Sam is genuinely terrified and still shaking, still handcuffed, barely able to stand from his injuries as he stands there all alone as the others watch the through the glass window in the control room.

“Any last words?” It’s was Bobby, the XO, the man he’s grown up with alongside his father and brother on this very ship.   This place was his home, these people were his family, he didn’t know anything about cylons he still couldn’t wrap his head around that he was one he just wanted to...to...go home! To go...to Dean.

Dean was his home.

So with a voice that barely sounded like his own he asks for Dean, to speak to him one last time, to see him, and the reply from Bobby is that he’s not here, and doesn’t want to be. So Sam stands there, looking up at the green light above the airlock, his heart beat thumping as it starts to flash amber, a warning, and the sirens start to sound.

Bobby can barely do this himself, John was still unconscious, it was his job he ran the ship now, but this was one of his boys...how could he be a cylon?

But he was, and the risk of keeping one on board, no matter who they’ve been  pretending to be its entire life,....it shot John, it killed countless people with those bombs....it had to go.

Sam’s last thought is of Dean, his name on his lips in a final terrifying whisper as the light goes red and the doors open, and Sam is sucked out into space.

The fleet jumps away, and it’s just Sam’s frozen body alone in space, until a cylon baseship FTL’s in, and suddenly a new Sam in a new body is gulping lungful's of new air as he fights his way out of that goopy liquid bolting upright, downloaded memories flooding in of Dean, dad, bombs and water and Dean and torture and Dean and fear and Dean and god he’s surrounded by others cylons, some he knows the faces of ones he’d fought and killed before, but it’s the ones that look like him, the ones with his face and his hair and his calming smiles that make him lose his mind, his terrified scream echoing down the empty baseship corridors.

He truly is a cylon.

Back in the fleet time has passed, the last bomb was discovered on a transport and deactivated, and the Pegasus has arrived, boasting of capturing their own cylon agent and keeping him prisoner on board.  They’ve got a lot out of him but still need more, and they specially request Dean.  Dean wonders why on earth they want him, he has been depressed and angry and moping ever since Sam, and no one really trusts him because of who Sam was, so he supposed this was a chance to prove himself if he could help in any way.

As they take him on board the officers are joking on how much they’ve tortured this one, making into a game, starving it, forcing themselves on it, after all its just a ‘toaster’ you can’t rape metal, laughing at how real and good it feels though.  Dean is turning his nose up and telling to shut up, feeling rather bad for this cylon already, they’d all seen how human these models are, perhaps they did feel pain.

They take him into the same cell as in the show, the empty white room with the large glass wall, and in the middle of the floor lays another Sam model, wearing nothing but a white bedshirt that barely covers his backside, and Dean stares.  

There are bruises everywhere, arms, neck…thighs…his wrists and ankles are red raw from constant restraints, he’s thin and broken and already shaking in absolute terror at the sight of the officers. His hair reaches half way down his back and its matted with blood and sweat and...something else that’s making it stick together. His once beautiful hazel eyes are wide and red and filled with agony and a wish for death.

Dean is so shocked he can’t even move, he can’t think of anything but his own Sam, he can’t see anyone but his own Sam, and he’s suddenly filled with rage.  But, he goes in with a tray of food that they give him, and promises Sam softly that he wont hurt him, hating how this Sam tries to curl in on himself as though waiting for a beating immediately.  Dean put the tray near him on the floor, and then backs away, sitting against the glass wall as the officers leave them alone.

“It’s not a trick,” Dean said quietly, hot tears threatening in his own eyes, “I’m not gonna take it away at the last second. It’s yours.  I’m just gonna sit here. You don’t have to say anything.  I’m just gonna be here with you.”

And slowly, very very slowly, a thin hand and a thin wrist edges its way cautiously forward, crawling its fingertips across the floor, taking a single slice of apple and quickly bringing it back to his mouth, taking small, tiny bites, as though wanting to savour it not knowing if he’d be allowed to take another. He won’t say a word.  They beat him if he speaks without them telling him to.

Everything the officers had been laughing at that they’d done to this Sam, it was all flying through Dean’s mind, picturing his own Sam, being raped, beaten, far worse than what had been done to him on the Galatica.  This Sam was broken, in every possible way, and he finds himself pouring his heart out to it.  At what had happened with his Sam, what that Sam meant to him, how this feeling of anger that had been consuming him he knew now was directed at himself, for not being there for Sam, for condoning him to death when his brother had been confused and desperate for help.  He was cylon, Dean accepted that now, and  now understood that that fact hadn’t changed a single thing about how he felt about him.  It was Sam, his brother the love of his life, and he’d abandoned him, let him be tortured and die, and Dean now sits there in floods of tears, his hands over his face, praying to all the Gods to forgive him for what he’d done.

As he sits there, he suddenly feels the weak grip of the broken Sam on his wrist, and he looks up.  This Sam was suddenly kneeling in front of him, his collarbones so pronounced through starvation, his face gaunt and hollow, and so beaten, but he was smiling, and suddenly he was shakily leaning over him, letting his weight cover Dean, hugging him, holding him, and Dean trembles and holds onto him, burying his head at his shoulder.

Even after everything this Sam had been through, he was still kind, still cared, and that is exactly what his Sam had always been.

God he loved him so much, and now he was gone.

The plot follows the series, so the broken Sam, with Dean’s help, eventually blows up the Pegasus killing himself as well, because no matter how much Dean helped him, telling him of what he could be of the good he could do, he couldn’t live with what they’d done to him and wouldn’t let them live to do the same to others.  It’s never traced back to Dean for helping, and life goes on, except Dean has a new sympathy. He’s not on the cylons side don’t get him wrong, he never would be, but perhaps there was a way of working together, to stop all this killing.  He questioned himself at the time, about letting all those people, all those humans die, but the empty look in his broken brothers eyes, no....no one would hurt any Sam ever again.

HIS Sam, the one in the the new body, is still refusing to act the cylon.  There’s no need to tell any of them any information as they got it all when he was downloaded, but that also meant they all knew about him and Dean.  But to Sam, he was human, not a cylon, no matter how many of his own face tried to talk to him, he would never be on the side of the cylons, NEVER, and he kept himself locked away in lonely corners of the ship, perhaps having no choice to accept what he was but not meaning he was going to betray everyone he loved, even if....even if they hated him...even if...if Dean...despised him...and that thought hurt more than anything else.

Eventually, a party of various cylons models comes aboard Galactica with the intention of a truce after battles that have exhausted both sides, and the last one to get off the raptor, was Sam. Dean’s Sam.  He’d managed to convince his fellow cylons that any truce would be done better with him there, he knew them, not just from a memory but knew them, and they knew him, they had to see not all cylons were going to kill them.

He had to get back on that ship.

Of course no one was expecting a Sam model to step off the ship, and as Sam cautiously gets off the raptor looking around at all these people he knew, he locks eyes with Dean, and Dean can’t breath, because he sees the recognition in Sam eyes. It was his Sam, and suddenly his heart is trying to beat out his chest and the world around them has stopped as it’s just the two of them in an empty hanger, and Sam smiles that gorgeous, sweet smile, and Dean feels whole again. 

John Winchester, alive and recovered, looks at his “son” with  very, very mixed feelings, and Sam doesn’t fight back when officers put him in handcuffs, although cannot help but feel a pang of pain when his dad says “Put that thing in the brig.” He had shot him after all, this was going to be a long recovery.

Dean visits Sam and apologises so much for not being there for him, and Sam is understanding, he was revealed to be a cylon after all, oh he’s still hurt, terribly hurt, and Dean just wants to hold him, and tells him all this time without him has been hell the things he’s seen he just wants this all to stop and he loves him he loves him so much and will he please, please stay, stay with me, please, when this is all over, and it will be....stay with me, and Sam smiles that damned beautiful smile again and Dean is kissing him through the bars, holding his hands against the bars, and knowing nothing ever again was going to separate them, nothing.

Except it’s soon discovered the “truce” is a lie, unknown to Sam, and there’s a battle on board and all the cylons get killed, expect of course for Sam safe in the brig. But alone in his cell some of the guards decide to take a leaf out of the Pegasus book for revenge on those that were killed and go in with their hands down their trousers and have the terrified Sam held down and bent over the desk before Dean suddenly walks in and fuck everyone is dead in seconds as he bashes their brains in against the walls. He takes Sam’s hand and they run, planning to go into hiding together until a cylon jumps out of nowhere, one that had escaped the main battle, and it’s just at the same time Sam and Dean see their dad coming towards them down the corridor.  The cylon goes to fire at him, but Sam jumps on him, wrestling the gun from it’s hand and shooting it through the head.

Having now saved his fathers life, he’s sort of welcomed back, but people still find it hard to trust him, and he has to do everything he can to prove he is on the human side.

When the cylon virus attacks the firewall system he tells his Dad and Dean and everyone on the bridge that he can help, that he can stop the virus, but they have to trust him.  Dean looks to his dad, yes, yes trust him, and John nods, and Sam immediately attaches a lead from a console by pushing it into his forearm,  and Dean STARES at him asking how he knows to do that, Sam just looks at him, slightly out of breath with adrenaline, “I don’t know.” But it works, he fights back the virus and it goes, and he saves the entire fleet.

From then on, it’s continuing the search for a new home, continuing the battles and attempts at peace with the cylons, and Dean never letting Sam out of his sight again. The first time they make love again for so long, the first time knowing Sam is cylon, Dean just clings to him, whispering that he doesn't care what Sam is, because whatever he is, he is Dean’s, and Dean belongs to him, and they will be together despite any protests, any upturned faces, they will fight them all to be together.

And Sam smiles once more, only ever smiling around Dean. They were together at last.

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Some Favorite Fics from 2019

Before I dive into my list, let me send out some love to ALL of the authors who have contributed fic to this fandom this year. There are well over 300 people who wrote Schitt’s Creek fic this year, and you’ve brought joy to so many people and should be super proud of what you’ve written, whether it was only 100 words or 100k. I’ve personally read more than 6.5 million words of fic in this fandom this year, and I want to thank you all for every single one of them. <3

Now, in continuing this year-end love fest we’ve had going on the last few days, I also want to highlight some of my favorite fics from this year. I decided to cut myself off at twenty fics or we’d end up with a list too big to be allowed, lol. I also decided to limit myself to one fic per author in order to spread the love around as much as possible; there would definitely be some repeat authors on this list otherwise. 

And now with all that in mind, I’ll shut up and get on with it. 

Here are twenty of my favorite fics from this year and what I love about them...

this roof is a blanket by withkissesfour • rated M • 3k+ I love Patrick-centric fics. He’s such a beautiful character, but because he isn’t one of the four Roses, we miss out on a lot of his pov in the show, so I’m always here for fics that try to capture that. And this one does it beautifully, focusing on four different but thematically-connected moments in Patrick’s life.

We’re Getting Something for Free by MoreHuman • rated G • 1k+ This is one of those fics where you can see how much Patrick KNOWS David and loves him for exactly who he is. His refusal to let David villainize himself for just being who he is makes my heart so very happy.

Heart of Gold by barelypink • rated M • 40k+ I love love LOVE a good AU, but AUs based on other media can be really tricky to get right. The best ones take elements from both sources and elevate them into something fresh and new, and this fic does exactly that.

now you see me by grapehyasynth • rated T • 4k+ Did I mention that I love AUs? I never get tired of seeing them meet in new ways, and their New York-set blind date in this one just makes me smile a whole hell of a lot.

I’m All Lost (in the supermarket) by sullymygoodname • rated G • 9k+ This fic combines David “Good Person” Rose, headless mannequins, tiny cardboard houses, karaoke, ugly sweaters, and all the friendship and shenanigans you can possibly stand. What’s not to love?

I know, I’m strange, too much light makes me nervous by another_Hero • rated T • 4k+ I’m so in love with the entire premise for this soulmate AU and everything that it says about love and the choices that we make because of it.

Pizza Night by smoulderandbraids • rated M • 4k+ Sometimes you just need to read about them making pizza and making out. Thank goodness this fic exists for those times. It’s a straightforward concept executed perfectly.

cinnamon sugar... by startswithhope • rated T • 1k+ All of startswithhope’s fics have a lovely softness to them that almost seems nostalgic, like you can feel yourself missing them before you’re even done reading them. This one I think captures that feeling best and most explicitly--David’s mood here is exactly that kind of nostalgia. And his thoughts about Stevie near the beginning are something that I’ve found myself thinking about over and over again since I first read this.

On My Way by Distractivate • rated M • 11k+ As much as I love the happy place that is this show, I also really love fic that acknowledges that sometimes relationships are hard, that things aren’t always perfect, that love is a CHOICE which has to be actively made again and again and again. This fic showcases exactly that. Love isn’t always easy, but choosing to love each other anyway is always worth it.

around us by lamphouse • rated G • 1k+ This one is a simple idea, written with a soft touch, and every time I re-read it, I’m crying by the time David says “I want to stand still.”

of all the riches. by falconeggs • rated T • 9k+ Who doesn’t love a good celebrity AU? This one is as cute as you could possibly want it to be, from their first meeting to taking their relationship public. It’s just a little slice of joy.

Overreacting by codswallop • rated M • 17k+ Fics dealing with hospital visits and illnesses and things of that sort can easily tip over into whumpy territory (which is totally fine if that’s what you’re looking for), but this fic goes a different direction and manages to be funny and sweet and charming while balancing the anxiety of waiting for news. David and Patrick’s dynamic here is so good; they’re both sharp and funny and vulnerable and messy in turn, joking like normal when they can, lifting each other up when they can’t.

101 by Hth • rated E • 8k+ Like I said, I love fics that acknowledge that things aren’t always perfect, and there’s nothing more rife for imperfection than a first night spent together. Their night at Stevie’s is the perfect setting for starting to navigate some difficult conversations, especially in the wake of Jake’s unexpected appearance, and this fic does a great job of getting them through the nerves and the talking and the the stops and starts of that night. And their last two lines of dialogue are perfection.

The Sidelines by wildhoneypie • rated T • 5k+ Comedy is so much harder to write than you might expect, and I am constantly awed by how well this fic does it. It feels effortless and in-character and in line with the kind of humor that beats at the heart of the show, all while still capturing that instant, playful attraction between David and Patrick. It’s just such a fun read.

holy sick divine by earlylight • rated T • 36k+ If the tags “Strangers who Met in a Field to Coworkers to Friends to Lovers” and “Paperwork - But Make It Sexy” don’t endear you to this fic before you even start it, I don’t know what to tell you. My favorite part of this story is actually the role reversal of Patrick being Stevie’s best friend, Patrick having dated Jake, etc. That’s just one way that this fic takes everything we know and turns it on its head, and it does it with good humor and such a strange sweetness. It’s utterly unique, and the final scene just burrows down into your heart and sets up house there.

A Fair Return by thingswithwings • rated E • 237k+ This is probably the most insanely well-crafted canon retelling I’ve seen in my life. It adds so much backstory to the show and makes you rethink scenes you know intimately, which is what any good canon retelling should do. The OCs and the ways they’re carved into the structure of the story we know are where this fic particularly shines; it’s so, so well done.

my heart was broke, my head was sore by blueink3• rated M • 31k+ I think the only thing better than fake dating might be the exact reverse: having to pretend you’re not dating when you are. Even though they’re technically together, there’s just so much opportunity for pining and angst (both of which blueink3 always does SO fucking well), and this fic takes that to another level by adding in the fragile newness of their relationship and the anxiety of a family medical scare. David is so, so careful with Patrick here, and I love every single word of it.

let’s go dancing in the light by goingmywaydoll • rated G • 2k+ It was so difficult to narrow this down to one fic by goingmywaydoll because I absolutely love everything she does, but ultimately I went with her first one for this fandom. I’m SUCH a sucker for David and Patrick seeing each other before the wedding, and David having anxiety about not having anxiety is pretty much the most David thing possible. The characterization, the dialogue, the whole entire mood of the fic--it’s all absolutely spot-on. This one is everything I could ever want from wedding fic.

for feelings unbound by wardo_wedidit • rated E • 20k+ Picking one single fic by wardo_wedidit was also a near-impossible task, but ultimately I had to go with this one because it’s honestly perfect. David’s empath abilities add SO much to his characterization and the trajectory of his relationship with Patrick, and it fills this fic with so many gorgeous moments that leave you feeling like maybe there really is magic in the world--and this fic has plenty of it.

Watching Through Windows by helvetica_upstart • rated E • 38k+ Every single moment of this fic is heartbreaking in the best possible way. Reading it is like cracking yourself open and then putting yourself back together a little stronger. Watching David learn about the man he’d grown into and have to decide if he wants to (or even can) become that man all over again is simultaneously gut-wrenching and soul-healing. And Patrick in this fic--god, what can I even say about him? He’s so understanding and GOOD, even when he’s terrified and heartbroken. He is absolutely everything. Everything. This story is 100% perfection from start to finish, and the bench scene in particular is hands down the best scene in any fic I’ve read this year.

[duckyworth]

I finally managed to make a piece of fanart for The Adventures of Mark Twain, a film that I saw last month that became one of my new favourite films.  So here is Mark Twain piloting his awesome airship towards Halley's Comet with Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher and Huck's pet frog Homer - as Twain’s darker self broods and laments the perceived pointlessness of it all down below. :( I also wanted to use this opportunity to write a little mini review of the film. :D

As iconic as the 'The Mysterious Stranger' segment is, I wanted to draw something based on the film that wasn't that bit, as I feel this film is one of those films that gets mainly remembered for one scene in particular, even though I think there are many more scenes that are just as worthy of being remembered. The film follows Mark Twain trying to use his cool airship to catch up with Halley's Comet, as Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn and Becky Thatcher have snuck aboard and he allows them to help, but upon learning that Mark Twain is catching up with the comet due to a death wish and find a version of him that is much more nihilistic and bitter than the kindly and optimistic man they meet, they try to sabotage the voyage, before they learn the truth why he wants to be reunited with Halley's Comet. (Mark Twain said - '“I came in with Halley's Comet in 1835. It is coming again next year, and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don't go out with Halley's Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt: "Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.”' He was born in 1835, when the comet appeared in the sky, and he passed away in 1910, just as the comet passed close to Earth again. And this film came out in 1985, when the comet passed by AGAIN. One reason why I absolutely LOVE the film is due to not just the fantastic and beautiful claymation animation courtesy of the late great Will Vinton and his crew (who I recently discovered became LAIKA Studios  ) - despite a few strings being present here and there when characters jump and them not being able to walk properly, I think the detail and care put into the clay characters is brilliant, and for the first feature length claymation film, it's really impressive  - or the charmingly weird renditions of many of Mark Twain's stories like The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, The Diary of Adam and Eve and Captain Stormfield's Visit To Heaven), but because it's a sweet and heartwarming tribute to Samuel Clemens himself. Before I saw this film, I did some research on him (I didn't know that much about Samuel Clemens as he doesn't have as much prevalence over here in the UK as he does in the USA - I didn't even know he wrote The Prince and the Pauper  - and when this film came out in the UK, it was simply named Comet Quest ), and I think his life story is FASCINATING. As well as becoming known as the father of American Literature, I found it really interesting learning about his various beliefs and life experiences that is reflected in his work, and to be honest, I find the themes this film tackles are actually pretty prevalent to a lot of content creators today. Early in his works, Mark Twain was known as having a great sense of humour, and a lot of his early works would be considered standup comedy today (and upon looking up some of his quotes and his works, I can believe it - he is a GREAT snarker  And a lot of his quotes even had him say that 'humour is mankind's greatest blessing' and 'kindness is the language which the death can hear and the blind can see' - it also helps that the film uses a lot of the quotes he himself said in life  ). And seen as his first few years before he became a writer had him work as a riverboat pilot in Missouri and he was born a son of Missouri slave owners (even though he was an abolitionist), I can see how some of his experiences would inspire his most famous works like Tom Sawyer.  With him also keeping a dream journal for a large part of his life, I can also see that very well being something that inspired some of the more weird visuals in this film. Sadly, late in his life, he not only started suffering from losing most of his hard earned fortune to bad business investments, but his younger brothers, wife Olivia and three of their four children lost their lives, and he blamed himself for all of them, which led him to become extremely jaded and disillusioned with mankind and the idea of a God later in his life, but when viewing his later works which delved into him discussing these ideologies of his, I've seen that a lot of his critics passed him off as a sad and pathetic old man by this point, even though he had been affected by his misfortunes and believed the fame he's received didn't mean anything in the end when he had lost all that was near and dear to him.  And a lot of his nihilism he developed later in life led to him writing things like The Mysterious Stranger when he became disillusioned with humanity and some of it's darker aspects.  (But I do like the joke in the film that when they're losing dead weight to catch up with Halley's Comet, Mark stops The Mysterious Stranger being tossed out as he says it'll be finished in a few years - a reference to the fact the book wasn't finished and published until years after Mark Twain passed away.  ) Which is where I think the themes of the film comes into play - Mark Twain is split in the film into a light and dark side, the light side being his comical and optimistic self, and his dark side being his jaded and pessimistic side, but as the dark side says later in the film 'Every man is a moon, and has a dark side that he keeps hidden from everybody, if he can help it.', and the light side tells Tom Sawyer that he's not whole without his more dark personality traits.  And a big reason why he wants to chase the comet in the first place is to be reunited with his late wife Olivia (I think the Adam and Eve segment in the film, as well as starting off pretty hilarious with rather goofy renditions of Genesis - Adam and Eve are both rather eccentric and goofy individuals who have pretty great chemistry with each other leading to them falling in love  - leading to what happened with Adam and Eve after they left the Garden of Eden, becomes really sad at the end when Adam is alone after Eve has passed away and he writes 'Wherever she was, there was Eden' - and Twain wrote The Diary of Eve as a posthumous love letter to Olivia.  ) I think there are a lot of times nowadays when a content creator is judged by only one or two elements of their perceived image without receiving the full picture, and it is unfair to judge ANYONE without knowing the full picture - there's no such thing as a completely perfect person, after all - no matter how altruistic or kind hearted someone may be, everyone has their flaws or inner demons that help shape them as an individual (I speak from experience, having experienced some myself that I'm having to cope with) - as the end credits song says 'You have to know their dreams, The devils and the gods, Before you know the man.'  And one scene I absolutely love at the end is the light and dark sides of Mark Twain giving advice to the three children - the light side imparting them, and the dark side giving the snarky humour that Mark Twain was known for in life.  (And of course, the part when the two Mark Twains fuse and become one with the comet was absolutely GORGEOUS animation.  ) All I can say at this point is that I'm really glad I managed to come across a Blu Ray of the film on Amazon, and if you have a chance to watch the film, I highly recommend it.  And I hope you enjoy my fanart I drew of the film. :)

[akp-1327]

dear diary // chapter one

Hi, everyone! This is the first chapter of the new series I’ve started. I hope you enjoy and stick around for future chapters! 💕

Find a series “description” and other detailing here!

Word Count: ~ 5.3k

(*) Warnings: none

July 16th, 2020

Dear Diary,

Nothing would make me happier than to visit the city. The bright lights, the busy streets, the shops, the smell of car exhaust. For all the wonders I’d discover, for all the opportunities I’d face. For the experience, for the fun.

Living in a small town is boring. It’s the same, day after day. Then as soon as you bat an eye, you’ve turned eighteen and have barely left the state. Some would call me a hobbit, some would call me lazy. But it’s hard to get out of town when your family can’t really leave because of their job and you’re too scared to learn how to drive.

The diner that my parents own is great; awesome pancakes, delicious milkshakes, and every single pie flavor you could ever imagine. It’s called the Golden Griddle and it’s located right in the heart of Cedar Cove, Oregon. You’d have to be blind to miss the sunny yellow paint (that’s ever so slowly chipping away, but don’t tell my dad) smeared on the bricks.

Anyway. I’m Charlotte, but you knew that already, didn’t you? Of course you did. Well, if you needed a reminder of my sob-worthy life story...my brother and I are adopted. But you probably remembered that, right? Wow, I need to stop ranting about how you probably remember me. You’re a literal book for God’s sake.

Wait; back on topic. I want to go to see the city. So badly. Oh, and have I mentioned that I got accepted into my dream school? New York University, here I come. How have I not written about that yet? Holy crap. NYU preparations have been coming along nicely. I already have half my room packed and almost all my dorm stuff that my mom insists on buying. My brother Henry, too. He’s going to Ohio State on a football scholarship and a desire to pursue athletic training. Big dreams!

Me, you ask? Good gracious, Diary, stop interrupting! (Oh boy, I’m talking to myself. Skye would laugh...). I’m pursuing acting and theater, of course. A major in drama and a minor in production. I’m chasing the sun here, okay? I am a future Broadway star and actress with dreams as far as the eye can see!

I am ecstatic to make the big move at the beginning of August. More updates to come. Sorry if this ending was abrupt. My dad made his famous chili tonight and I gotta go get it while it’s hot and before Henry inhales it all like the vacuum he is.

Yours, Charlotte :)

*

*

The faint, familiar smell of spices filled my senses as I put the old and tattered diary down. It was a gift I got years and years ago from a friend, but I never used it. May as well start before the wild ride of my new life starts, right?

I threw my blonde hair into a bun as I walked out of my room, avoiding boxes piled up high on the floor. Right as I stepped into the hallway, however, my foot met a ball of fluff curled right outside my doorway.

“Aw, Cooper,” I cooed, leaning down and scooping the little snowball I called a dog into my arms, cradling him close, “you’re missing all the food downstairs, buddy!”

A small whimper came from him as I made my way down the stairs. Henry was spread out on the couch and watching some sort of European soccer, er, football on the TV.

“Hey, just in time!” Henry smiled, waving me over to sit next to him. I obliged, setting Cooper down onto the floor and taking a seat next to him. 

...It was crazy how he was twice my size. And how I was the older one by three whole minutes.

“What’s up, Henry?” I asked, nudging his arm. A laugh escaped his throat as he gestured to the screen and unpaused the video (wait, it was paused this entire time?). I watched the screen to see a player get hit in the head with a soccer ball.

“Hah!” Henry laughed, his deep pitch echoing off the walls. I gasped and swatted his arm.

“Henry! Laughing at someone else’s pain is so rude! What if he got a concussion that ended his career?” I said, a twinge of amusement in my tone. All in all, I loved to see my brother get all flustered. He was such a goody-two-shoes that even something like this comment would make him blow a gasket--

“He’s laughing, sis. I don’t think the dude’s hurt.” Henry said, his tone smug. Maybe college was finally really going to his head.

I shook my head with both surprise and disappointment as I stood up, gesturing for the walking vacuum to follow suit. “C’mon, knucklehead. Dinner’s almost ready.”

We both walked into the kitchen to see the finishing arrangements being set up for dinner; Mom was retrieving bowls and utensils as Dad strained the water from the elbow macaroni at the sink.

“You two are in here early,” Mom teased, giving us a side glare as she placed the bowls and spoons on the counter, “what about?”

A sweet, innocent smile crossed my face as I batted my eyelashes at her. “It just smells so good that I couldn’t stay away!”

“I’ve heard that one before, you jest. Come get your bowls.” Mom chuckled, stepping away. Henry and I grabbed a bowl right as Dad turned to us.

“Get it while it’s hot!” Dad said, grabbing a bowl of his own. Henry and I both dove for the noodles and chili, somehow managing to get our servings without making a complete mess like we usually do. It’s crazy to think of how people mature over time...

The old seats at the table squeaked as we all sat down and started to dig into our chili. A comfortable silence blanketed the table and just as I got used to it, Mom broke it.

“So, you two have been packing, yes? Even the stuff you aren’t bringing?” Mom asked sweetly, dabbing a napkin at the corners of her mouth. She’d always been the politest one in the family; too bad no one else at the table had her mannerisms.

“My room is basically packed except for some of my clothes and books,” I said in between chews of the (extremely hot) chili in my mouth, “but otherwise I’m good.”

Henry nodded and pointed his thumb at me, his eyes never leaving his bowl. “Mhmm.”

“That’s great! Your flights leave in only a matter of days!” Dad cheered, giving Mom a high five. It was such a weird but common thing to see parents do: act like teenagers.

“You sound excited about that?” Henry questioned. I looked over to see half his bowl already gone. 

Mom heaved a sigh.

“We’re excited for you both to finally experience the world. We can’t wait for your lives to truly start!” Mom said, a smile encompassing her features. Her kind, brown eyes flitted between Henry and me.

“You two have the world at your fingertips,” Dad added, glancing at Mom. They shared a fond look. 

At that moment, for the briefest second, I wished that I had a connection like that; a soulmate, someone who you could spill your heart out to. Someone who you could love and be loved by. Someone who’d want nothing more than to see you happy. 

Also at that moment, I decided that I would make it a small goal of mine to make this wish come true during my time at NYU.

*

*

My blankets were soft around my legs as I sat propped up against my pillows. Leila and I had been talking on the phone all night. I felt like I was in that moment in Mean Girls where Gretchen was switching between Cady, Karen, and Regina. Except...I wasn’t switching between anyone at the moment. 

Leila Maciel is my best friend. She’s someone with a sarcastic personality and a snarky remark to anything. She’s as smart as a whip and could, without a doubt, put you in your place if you stepped out of line with her intimidating strength. Though, she also has a soft and caring side that she only reveals to those who she deems trustworthy. A confident, kind, and bold girl indeed. 

We’ve been friends for our entire high school careers, but it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.

During our freshman year, Leila was in an extremely toxic relationship. Her ex-girlfriend, a “sweet” but a rather manipulative girl, was to blame for our friendship. This girl, Sadie, ticked all of Leila’s boxes; beautiful, smart, compassionate, sweet... 

Remember that Leila and I had only known each other for a month at this point.

Leila and Sadie’s relationship was adorable from the outside. Both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed freshmen with hearts in their eyes. It was something you’d see in a more realistic version of High School Musical because let’s be real...those movies aren’t realistic. (I still love them, though!)

About a year into their relationship, though, Sadie transformed from sweet to sour. She used Leila to get what she wanted like she was her very own puppet. Her antics ranged from cheating on tests to almost stealing a designer handbag before I intervened. Then, like the cherry on top of this extremely nasty sundae, Sadie revealed that she cheated on Leila with a college girl for the majority of their relationship. Let’s just say that their relationship was terminated seconds after that bombshell blew up.

Leila was broken for months. She truly believed that she loved Sadie, but upon further examination, I found that Leila felt guilty whenever she had the opportunity to say no. It had never been any sort of love; it was an obligation. Also after that relationship, Leila decided that instead of focusing on liking girls, she’d be open and love anyone. She was sick of limits.

So, here we are today.

Now, as we talked on the phone, I thought about how she’d also be going to NYU, majoring in business. We were roommates! It was like a dream come true.

“Uh, Charlotte?” Leila asked with a laugh. “You alive?”

Reality snapped back into place as I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Oh, uh, yeah. What’d you say?”

“Did you buy a fan for our dorm?” Leila asked monotonously. This made me laugh for some odd reason. “Dear Lord, what’s so funny?”

Honestly, though. What was funny, Charlotte? One could say that I was losing my mind.

“I don’t know, spur of the moment? But otherwise, yes; I got the one you pointed out at Target.” I said, surprising myself with how even my voice sounded. A familiar hum came from the other end of the line in response.

“Cool. Then you’re all set to go for next week?” Leila asked, her voice making it sound like she was smiling. I laughed again and nodded to myself.

“Yes!” Was all I could say.

Leila’s sigh was so loud that I could swear that I felt her breath through the phone. “You’re not stressing out over this, are you?”

My eyes widened at her question. Was I stressing out about this? I’d been packing for days on end without breaks. I had folded, re-folded, and re-re-folded all of my clothes several times in my duffel bag. I had splurged on so many things, like that fan Leila mentioned, without a second thought. I don’t think I’ve had a proper shower in almost a week; I was too busy being a nervous wreck.

“Maybe a little bit, but not too much,” I responded, my tone a bit somber as I tried to conceal my lie. My fingers twirled the fringed fabric of my tie blanket around as I waited for Leila’s retort.

“Stressing out over this is like a circle, Charlotte. It’s pointless,” Leila said, her voice starting to reveal her exhaustion, “and you need to relax. We’ll be fine.”

Thoughts buzzed through my mind as I contemplated her words. Would we be fine? Is “fine” even the correct word to describe this situation? How about rephrasing the entire statement entirely by saying “there is a chance that we’ll survive, but it definitely ain’t high.”? That version was more accurate, in all honesty. Moving across the country for school didn’t sound like a situation that could only earn the word “fine”.

“Aren’t you worried, though? A big city, a new city, a scary city...we’re diving into the deep end here, Leila! We have no idea what the hell we’re doing!” I panicked, squeezing my eyes closed.

Now it was Leila’s turn to laugh uncontrollably. Though, hers was more of a witch’s cackle.

“Wow, okay. First of all, we’ll stick together. Second, not knowing what we’re doing is all apart of the college experience. We’ll seriously be okay if we stick together.” Leila assured, still laughing - she never was the sympathetic type in these types of situations.

“If you think so, then I guess I need to believe it.” I yawned, tucking myself further into my blankets. Leila broke out into a yawn as well, making me think that she was actually tired for once (the girl was the definition of a night owl).

“We should get some sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.” Leila stated. I could imagine her rolling her brown eyes at her own words. A laugh escaped me instead of the hum I intended on.

“Jesus, why do you keep laughing? Why do you have so much energy?” Leila groaned, making my laughter subside.

“I honestly don’t know, I’m a complete and utter mess. We’ll text tomorrow?” I suspired, resting my arm over my eyes to completely block out this embarrassing reality.

“You bet. Love you lots.” Leila said. Her declarations of love truly became more meaningful after that whole spectacle with Sadie. She had a ginormous heart of gold beneath that rough exterior.

“Love you more! Good night!” I said, hanging up after she murmured a farewell. I tossed my phone onto the soft fabric of my blanket and stared up at the ceiling, a nostalgic feeling washing over me. All of the nights during elementary school where I’d do this exact thing, except I would be thinking about my Barbie dolls or my recess adventures. Now, I thought about the future and what waited for me.

College better live up to its well-known reputation.

*

*

Before I could comprehend what was even happening, I was standing in the middle of Portland’s airport with the arms of my family around me. 

Days legitimately whizzed past with nothing short of a greeting. I mean, it was already August 4th...somehow.

“You have all your bags, right?” Dad asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit. I looked down at my belongings for the fourth time; a large duffel bag of clothes, a chest full of dorm stuff and personal items (including that stupid fan, yes), and a very large and heavy carry-on stuffed with all of my technology. And, for the fourth time, I confirmed that I had everything.

“It’s all here, Dad. For the last time.” I giggled, shaking my head. He could only respond with his usual eye roll and grin.

“What about Leila? Are you completely positive that she’s on your flight?” Mom asked, her eyes inspecting mine. A sigh freed itself from my lungs as I nodded.

“She’s already waiting for me by the baggage area, Mom. You even saw her when we walked in, remember?” I stated, returning her inspecting gaze as she fondly smiled in remembrance.

My hands were reaching down to pick up my bags before Henry lightly punched my shoulder. “Wait, whoa, where’s the love, sis?”

“It’s hiding from you,” I teased, punching his shoulder before I pulled him close for a tight hug, “I’m gonna miss you bunches, you know.”

Henry’s grip tightened before he pulled back to show me the tears in his eyes. I gave him a sad smile, knowing that familiar look in his eye; he agreed but didn’t want to admit it.

“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll only be a call away if you ever need to talk to me,” I said, putting my hands on his shoulders, “and I’ll be a nine hours’ drive away if you ever need me in person.”

He cracked a smile that was identical to my own and let out a deep breath that turned into a shaky laugh.

“Shut up, midget. Go catch your flight.” Henry laughed, shaking his head to compose himself. His blonde hair was tucked away in a red hat with a big, fancy ‘O’ embroidered in gray and black on its face. My heart swelled with pride to see it, too.

“Ditto!” I laughed while reaching down to grab my bags. “Well, I ought to get going. Leila’s been waiting on me for a while”

“Travel safely and call us when you land, no matter the time!” Mom said, hugging Dad and pulling Henry close. My eyes burned with tears as I nodded.

“Can do,” I shakily breathed, “I love you guys.”

Mom blew kisses my way and Dad smiled. Even Henry gave me a rare, genuine grin. I waved, and with a final glance, turned around and headed to the gate that was just behind me without looking back.

The weight of the bags in my hands doubled with each step towards Leila. She was sitting in the waiting area, her bags all around her, scrolling through her phone. Her straight black shoulder length hair was accessorized with a jade green headband, matching her comfy outfit that consisted of a matching jade green tee and a pair of workout leggings.

“Took you long enough, you slowpoke!” Leila smiled, patting the blue seat next to her as she tucked her phone in her backpack. I dropped my bags in relief as I sat down next to her. “How emotional were your parents?”

“Enough to make me almost cry?” I laughed, wiping the wetness below my eyes. “Well, maybe I did cry a little.”

Leila laughed and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “It doesn’t take much to make you cry, Charlotte. But I am beyond glad to see that you held in most of your alligator tears.”

We both laughed, though our laughter faded after about a minute, turning into a stressed silence...

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” I said while taking a deep breath. After almost a year of building up the nerves, the day was finally here.  College...adulthood...life...

Leila turned to me, her eyes showing the most vulnerability that I’ve ever seen in them, and took a deep breath with me. “We may be crazy, but at least we’re crazy together.”

*

*

Bag security was a surprising breeze; little to no lines and no troubles. The security guys even smiled at me. Talk about weird.

Waiting for the flight time was tiring. I did, however, get a text from Henry saying that he’d successfully reached his gate and would be taking off for Ohio at dusk. So that was at least something to keep me occupied for a good two minutes.

Another distraction was to play matchmaker with Leila. It was our favorite pastime in high school, so why not continue the tradition?

“Ooh, that business guy over there wearing the red tie, and...” Leila trailed off, scanning the rows of seats until her eyes focused on a woman talking animatedly on the phone only a few feet away, “her.”

“Wait, the Adrian Raines-looking guy paired with that preppy woman?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. Leila hummed with approval next to me, making me cringe immediately; why, and how, would that work? They were polar opposites!

“Leila, listen. He looks like the type of guy that’d bite your head off if you gave him the wrong coffee order and she looks like the type of girl to organize a charity event. It’s all in the eyes and the cheekbones, even the eyebrows.” I explained, shaking my head. Leila, however, disagreed like she always did.

“They’d balance each other out. He’d soften up and she’d harden up. It’s that simple! Plus, it helps that they’re both very attractive...” Leila smirked, her eyes examining them both with a wistful sigh.

“And they’re probably much older than us, so don’t even get ahead of yourself.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “But back on topic. Are you talking about the whole ‘opposites attract’ lore? Because that’s just not...plausible. Maybe it is in the movies--”

Leila let out an exasperated breath that hindered the rest of my thought. “It is plausible, though! Just think about how you would feel in this situation. Would you want a guy who has a prickly exterior and a mushy-gushy heart?”

My heart started to palpitate as my hands started to sweat. I have learned to loathe Leila’s ‘boy talk’ because it’d always turn into her setting me up with guys that were either way out of my league or guys that just didn’t meet my expectations.

Her question, though, did deserve some deep thought. I guess I can set my pride aside for a mere second and give her some sort of approbation...

So, the question on the table: did I really have a thing for those types of people? Snarky but also impossibly soft? I guess I’ve never really been invested in relationships of my own. The idea of romance, sure, but not for me. It just never really seemed as important as the ACT or my GPA. I’m starting to regret my valedictorian title; I focused so hard on my studies that I forgot about the fun aspect of high school like the average, rebellious boyfriend with a leather coat and a motorcycle.

“You know what, Leila?” I started, carefully testing this ground as to not lead her down the matchmaking rabbit hole, “I would like a guy like that. A sarcastic and snarky guy with a secret soft side? Yes, please. Oh, and glasses that he’d push up his nose when he was frustrated? Even better.”

An uncharacteristic snicker escaped Leila; she was never one to snicker like that, and now that I actually think about it, our boy talk always had that stereotypical effect on her. Man, this hobby was melting her brain. Is there any research out there on how the quietest whisper of romance can turn the human brain to goo? If so, I need to get my hands on it ASAP. 

“I knew that you had a thing for that! I’ve been scoping this out for years, Charlotte!”

Of course she has.

“Glad you’ve been looking out for me. That or stalking me, but that’s up to you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder with hers only to receive a tired groan in response.

“Oh, hush. You know exactly how damn predictable you can be sometimes. Don’t even try to contradict that, either.” Leila stated, giving me a side glare. I gave her a bright, innocent smile in response as I fiddled with my duffel bag’s handles.

My mouth opened to bring up another round of matchmaker, but I was overpowered by a loud speaker.

“Flight one-hundred two for New York boarding at gate fifty-six!” A voice said gently over the speakers. Leila and I instantly looked at each other with the same anxious looks that slightly weirded me out.

“Um, Leila--” I stammered, trailing off as Leila hopped up and started to grab her things. She wore the biggest and brightest smile when she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

“C’mon, slowpoke! We gotta go! Move those short legs of yours!” Leila beamed, grabbing my duffel bag with her open hand. Before I could retort, I was ushered into standing and walking towards the luggage area.

“Alright, eager one, slow down a bit?” I asked through a huff. Only two months off of the cheer team and away from drama and I’m already bent out of shape.

Leila threw my duffel bag and her own suitcase onto the conveyor belt and so I followed suit.

This...this entire experience was moving faster than I expected.

*

*

The plane ride wasn’t really all that exciting. Just Leila falling asleep on me, like I expected. Throw in a couple packs of peanuts, a dash of watching Dirty Dancing and Grease religiously, and a sprinkle of a baby’s obnoxious tantrum...and you end up with the definition of a typical plane ride.

Woo, college. Already kicking off with such an exciting start.

*

*

We were about thirty minutes out from The Big Apple when Leila finally woke up from her sleep. I felt my shoulder lighten and then felt the instant soreness from the five and a half hour flight.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, busying myself by pausing Dirty Dancing on its second playthrough. Of course it was right as Baby started to awkwardly dance down the staircase and onto the bridge.

Leila’s response didn’t come when I thought it would, so I looked over to see if she fell back asleep on the plane’s wall. To my surprise, I saw that her eyes were glued to a figure a few seats over. 

The girl who sat there had this gorgeous auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her black headphones stood out against her pale complexion and revealed the slightest trace of taupe freckles scattered about her cheeks. Also from the girl’s side profile, you could just barely see the tint of matte black lipstick on her lips.

A gentle but teasing smile formed when I looked back over at a wide-eyed Leila, her cheeks now starting to redden with embarrassment.

“See someone you like over there?” I asked, softly nudging her arm with my own. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly before turning her attention to me.

“I thought she was snoring?” Leila stammered, now rubbing her tired eyes. I looked back over at the girl - her head bobbing slightly to whatever she’d been playing on her laptop - and let out a laugh.

“Sorry to break it to you, Leila, but she’s completely awake.”

Leila whipped her head back around to see and then let another deep blush cover her cheeks. It was hard to notice against her olive skin, though it deepened enough to see from miles away.

“Okay, um, she was snoring a little bit ago. I swear on your life.” Leila said, pressing her hands to hide her bright red cheeks. 

I let out another laugh. She had never let herself get this flustered...ever. This was so rare that I’d only ever seen it once and that was back in high school. Leila locked eyes for a solid twenty seconds with a junior guy named Michael Harrison at lunch during our freshman year. She couldn’t stop blushing or stuttering for the rest of the day, and that’s not mentioning the dejected look she had when Michael walked out of the building with an unfamiliar girl on his arm after school.

As expected, Leila only responded to me with her notorious deadly side glare.

“Shut up right this instant, Charlotte Parker.” She hissed between her gritted teeth.

Did I listen? Of course not.

“Looks like Miss Maciel has been struck by Cupid’s arrow...” I teased, dramatically leaning into her lap with my hand against my forehead. She grumbled and leaned her head on her palm, looking out the window. After I sat up, I could see her brown eyes flit over in the girl’s direction every once in a while and couldn’t hold back my smile. Not teasing, but happy.

I knew that wistful look in her eye well enough to know that she’d been enamored.

*

*

The plane landed at about seven in the evening. Before getting off the plane, I looked over to the girl. She was frantically putting her computer away in it’s decorated case. I saw a patch with the familiar NYU bobcat...right next to another patch with the name “Skye” in this sort of horror-ish calligraphy.

Huh.

“I think her name is Skye,” I said, leaning in to whisper to Leila, “and I think she’s going to NYU.”

Leila glanced over as she stuffed her neck pillow (that she never used) in her bag.

“Cool. Um...Skye, you said?” Leila said, a blush blooming across her cheeks again. 

I’m seriously loving this.

“Yep, Skye. Maybe she’s a freshman like us?” I said. Leila bit her thin bottom lip.

“Maybe,” Leila said, a smirk crossing over her features, “just...maybe.”

*

*

Waiting for our luggage was so boring. I decided that it was even worse than waiting for our fight.

“Ah, it’s mine!” I heard a girl a few feet away from my tired figure cheer. She rushed forward to grab a gaudy pink suitcase bedazzled with fake gems. Leila pretended to gag next to me.

“Gross,” Leila sighed, though her eyes suddenly lit up, “hey, wait, those are our bags!”

She pointed toward a cluster of familiar bags on the conveyor.

“Ah! C’mon!” I stammered, rushing forward and grabbing them. We both started to laugh as we lugged them off.

“Jesus, this is heavier than I remember.” Leila huffed, lifting her bag onto her shoulder. I did the same, though almost toppled over because of the weight.

“Are we sure that these are ours?” I asked, unzipping the duffel bag to see my familiar coat. Relief flooded my features as I looked back at Leila.

Her face was a sickly greenish pale.

“Uh, Charlotte, this...this isn’t...” Leila stuttered, carefully shuffling through the bag. There were lots of black sweaters and lots of striped shirts. A couple pairs of ripped jeans, a few rock band tees along with an NYU sweatshirt...and a tag on the strap.

I reached out for the black tag on the strap and flipped it over. It read...

Skye...Crandall?

“Leila, remember that girl from the plane?” I asked, showing her the tag. Her face immediately fell, though I could see the flame of hope flickering in her deep brown irises.

“Oh. My. God.” Leila groaned, taking the tag into her hand. “You’re kidding. Charlotte, this seriously isn’t happening right now.”

Despite her panicked state, I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

“I’m officially calling you Eliza Schuyler because you are helpless!” I giggled, doubling over. Leila loudly sighed.

“No, no no no...” Leila whispered, zipping the bag closed, “how are we going to find her now? I bet she left already with my bag.”

I sadly let my laughter subside as I wiped the humored tears from my eyes, being careful to not let my light layer of mascara run or smudge into a huge mess. That was the last thing I needed right now.

“Alright. Well, I think we should wait and see if your bag is still here. We don’t know for sure that she has it,” I stated, patting Leila’s shoulder, “but if it doesn’t show, we’ll track this Skye girl down and give her the right bag. Okay?”

Leila nodded, her face still contorted with a mixed emotion of annoyance and helplessness.

“Welcome to New York, where we lose your freaking bags and make you chase after freaking girls that you like,” Leila mumbled in a bad imitation of a New York accent, pinching the bridge of her slender nose.

“So you do admit it! Aww!” I cooed, booping her nose. She caught my wrist and gave me another glare, though this one was downright teasing.

“Shut it or I will mercilessly write on your face tonight with a Sharpie while you sleep,” Leila teased, “but let’s get going. We still gotta find our dorm and the sun’s already starting to set.”

I nodded and gathered up my stuff, taking another look back at the conveyor...

“Oh, everyone’s gone?” I questioned, my eyes scanning the now empty area around us. Leila rolled her eyes and started to drag me along towards the masses of people with her free hand.

“Yes, but now let’s go find this girl before I lose my mind. I need my bag and I can bet that she needs hers.”