#and i really didn’t have to engage with the market when i graduated cause I was already working for the org

[cinewhore]

back on the job market…

[sparklingchan]

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+ 

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro! 

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

*

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

*

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

*

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

*

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

*

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

*

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

*

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

[softboywriting]

Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

 Word Count: 3.8k 

 A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."  

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[fairestwriting]

slams open your door/ one angst request for a childhood g/n reader with deuce, ace, jack, ruggie and vil coming right up! "if we're still single by 30, let's get married! (for housing benefits lol)" it was a childish promise made in jest, but the boy never forgot. in the end, it ends with unrequited/pining feelings from one/both sides that cant be returned due to bad timing/prior engagements/etc when they reach of age (go hogwild with the scenarios lis!!)

(slams my hands on the table) yes yes yes yes YES i love this trope

+ if you like my writing, you can buy me a ko-fi to support me!

Deuce Spade

You make the promise to him after you confessed to your crush sometime in 7th grade and got rejected, left to cry by yourself behind the school. Out of all your friends, only Deuce came to comfort you -- And so you, in your dramatic childish glory, feeling like you’d never find anyone to love, tell him the two of you should get married if you’re single by 30.

Deuce remembers every detail of that event down to how your eyes gleamed with the tears, how the light of the sunset casted that golden glow on your hair -- It was when he knew he loved you. It took him a while to find the right words to describe the feeling, but he’d been feeling it for a long time.

He doesn’t pursue you because he feels like he’ll grow out of it. You go to NRC together, the two of you against the world, and it’s like everyday he falls in love a little more. You support him through his attempts of being a honors student, and on the day of your graduation, the first thing you do is hug each other tight, cheering about how you made it, you finally made it.

You don’t lose contact with each other even after school. Deuce and you are basically attached to the hip, meeting up every other week to talk about college and then your jobs. Through all of this time you’re friends, both of you go through a handful of relationships each, but none of them are really serious. As you approach 30, Deuce remembers that promise from back then.

When your birthday comes up, you’re sort of gloomy over recent breakup, and Deuce, naturally, is the first one to be there for you. He shows up in the morning with a gift and makes you breakfast, your dear best friend warming your heart once more. You rant about your latest partner and exchange anecdotes about how last week went before everything goes silent, and suddenly his hand is hesitantly on yours.

“D-Do you remember, um.” He begins, face flushed. “That promise we made in middle school? That if we were single until 30...”

You blink. Really, that? It felt like so long ago -- It was hard to remember even. You can barely catch what he was going to try to say before you laugh your middle school self off, snickering at how naive you were -- Something in Deuce seems to shatter, then, and his hand retracts. It’s so fast you can barely tell what’s happening.

And he stays with you through the birthday regardless, of course he does. He’s your dearest friend, isn’t he?

the rest is under the cut cause... its long

Ace Trappola

You hated Ace, initially. You met in kindergarten and he was the worst, literally. Always pulling pranks on everyone and acting just so infuriatingly cheeky, your 5 year old self learned real rage through that little redhead boy who always hid your things just to get a rise out of you.

One day you decided to prank him back, causing massive trouble in the classroom that ends with the two of you getting intensely scolded, and that’s how, somehow, a beautiful friendship blooms. Ace gets this sparkle in his eyes when you’re done getting yelled at, and says that the two of you should be friends and work together on doing this to other people.

Since then you two became inseparable. You’d never stop bickering, but you also never left each other’s side. The two of you were a menace, an absolute terror to your teachers -- Whether you were a good kid before meeting him or not didn’t matter, Ace is great at being a bad influence.

Near the end of 4th grade, you begin hearing about how one of your classmate’s single parent was getting married again. This sparked a big conversation between your class, somehow, with everyone declaring who they wanted to marry. It was a silly childish thing. When your turn comes, you proudly announce that when you grew up, you’d marry Ace if you hadn’t married anyone else by 30, ‘cause no one else would choose him but me! You snicker after making the comment, amused at how mean you were being, but somehow your snarkiness seems to fly over Ace’s head.

It’s a thing that happens that you two never really talk about again, but it ticks in the back of his mind for his whole life as you two grow up. Even entering middle and then high school, he always remembers it when he goes through some sort of romantic disappointment. You really were the only one who always stuck around, after all...

Years go by and somehow you’re still by each other’s side. Every birthday that passes Ace thinks about it a little more, he wonders if that promise from ages ago was true. When your 30th birthday comes up the promise is constantly in his mind, he’s driving himself up the wall with expectation. And he doesn’t even know why he’s feeling like that, really, you two are just childhood friends, right? There’s no reason for him to be feeling so... like this.

Eventually, he just blurts it out, a couple days after said birthday. You two are probably just hanging out and ranting about work when he goes “Hey, you remember that stuff you said in 4th grade? About, uh, us getting married?” And you go silent for a beat. His heart races as he wonders what the hell he’s doing, even.

But you laugh it all off. What, that stuff about marrying you? Yeah, I was such a dumb kid. I was right, though, look how you’re still single, you joke, and it feels like a punch to the gut to Ace. He laughs awkwardly with you. Yeah, sure, how foolish the two of your were for thinking of something like... you two... being together like that...

Jack Howl

Jack was, before everything, the scary boy in your 2nd grade class. Beastmen weren’t exactly common at school, especially wolves like him, so he ended up sticking out quite a lot. Most kids, your friends included, thought he was far too scary to approach. And Jack himself seemed to be fine with that, not really interacting much with anyone.

That was all he was for you until, one day, an older kid gets mad at you during lunch for bumping into them and staining their shirt with juice. They’re about two or three years ahead and so much taller than you, you’re genuinely scared -- And who would know that in a moment like this, the one kid in your class you weren’t very fond of would stand up for you, convincing the bully to go away.

Afterwards, Jack asks if you’re okay, you two end up eating together, and the rest is history. You find out he was actually really sweet, despite seeming so tough, and you get comfortable with it. Jack was always a reliable, loyal friend, someone you knew you could count on.

This included when your friends started being weirded out by you for getting close to the scary boy in class. They get it in their heads that you have a crush on him and tease you for it, which makes you upset, but Jack stands up for you again. This was enough for you to be pretty starry eyed at the age of 7, so you declared that, hey, who cares about what these mean kids are saying! Maybe you and Jack should be together anyway. Actually, if you two got to 30 and you were still single, you should get married! Jack gets just as starry eyed as you, and you seal a pinky promise that day.

What you never knew, though, was that he wouldn’t grow out of it -- Because as time goes by and you two grow up alongside each other, it ends up slipping your mind. You meet new people and learn new things, getting into some relationships here and there, and though you’d taken the promise seriously for a bit when you were a kid, it was just something you laughed about now.

You don’t even remember it on Jack’s 30th birthday. You’re one of the first people to show up to the small gathering, naturally, you had known each other since forever. You’re teasing him about how he was so perpetually single even now, that you were reaching “marriage age”, and this seems to fluster him a bit.

“Well...” He starts, his ears going slightly limp. “I wanted... to keep that promise, you know. From when we were kids.” His voice is quiet, uncertain. It’s different from how you usually hear him talk, and you have no idea what he’s talking about. You question him about it, and he’s wide eyed when he realizes that you actually forgot.

He questions you about it. How could you forget? You two actually made a pinky promise about it -- But you’re just confused as to why he’s bringing this up, saying that of course it wasn’t a big deal, you two were just kids when it happened! Was he really expecting something from that? And when you ask him that, he’s silent.

Needless to say, the birthday is soured. Jack asks for you to leave, it’s a mess. You don’t know what you did wrong, exactly, just like you’re not sure how you could possibly fix this.

Ruggie Bucchi

“Partners in crime” was the only possible way to describe what sort of relationship you had with Ruggie. It starts in elementary school, you’re walking around in a farmer’s market near the slums and you catch him taking a handful of apples from a stand, without paying. Your eyes are wide as you remember who that boy was, a classmate of yours, and despite what your family had taught you about stealing, you walk up to the person taking care of the stand, and start chatting with them to distract them.

You’re not sure what really made you want to help this boy you barely knew, but it turned out to be the one thing in your life you’re the most grateful for, because the next day, when he sees you again in class, he runs up to you to thank you so many times in a row. And since then, you two started spending time together.

And you got along so well! Ruggie got along with most of the other kids and you had some friends of your own, but nothing was compared to how close the two of you were. You two scheme your way in and out of trouble through your school days, and at one point you can barely imagine your life without him.

Sometime mid 6th grade, your classmates start talking of crushes and dating and such, which gives you a lot to think about. You’re a bit upset that you seem to be the only one who isn’t in on the new fun, so one day, when you’re hanging out with Ruggie, you complain about feeling like you’d be single forever. Ruggie laughs and says that if no one wanted to be with you, then no one would want to be with him either. You still wonder what that meant.

In a fit of childishness, you say decisively that if you two were single until you were 30, you’d get married. Looking back on it, you can’t tell if you were kidding or not, but Ruggie and you shake hands mid-laughs, like you’re sealing a deal.

So time goes by. You don’t think too hard about that promise and Ruggie... doesn’t seem to, either, you actually wonder what’s going through his head often, because he rarely tells you what he’s thinking. You end up going to NRC together, to both of your families’ joy, and that just ends up making you closer, as two kids from the less-privileged side of the Afterglow Savannah in such a prestigious academy...

Your bond ends up really fire-forged after those four years, so it’s no surprise to anyone that you’d still be close even after you graduate, even as adults. Nothing could break a friendship like this.

You think about it on the day of your 30th birthday, when you’re out for drinks with Ruggie to celebrate. Really, how the hell did you stick to each other’s side for so long? You ask him as you loop an arm around his neck, and he grins. “Well, maybe we should get married like you promised then, y’know... when we were brats.” He says, a little quieter than your previous conversation. There’s a hint of some kind of different feeling there that you don’t catch at the time, scoffing at him and going, yeah, in your dreams.

The rest of the night goes normally, though you don’t hear from him for a couple days afterward... and when you do, he barely looks you in the eye. You wonder if anything bad happened, if you did anything wrong.

Vil Schoenheit

When Vil Schoenheit moved into your town, everybody was talking about him before he even really set foot into the classroom. Everyone had seen him somewhere -- The poster boy of villainy in all your favorite movies, a kid with a pretty face and a haughty aura.

You’re as curious as everyone else to meet him, though you don’t really share that strange vindictiveness the other kids seemed to have, angered at Vil himself for what his characters put others through. It’s so stupid, you thought, isn’t he just the actor? He might actually be nice.

When he arrives into the classroom, people are about as annoying towards him as you expected. Their disdain towards Vil bothered you, he’d barely said anything to others and yet they were already pegging him as a mean, arrogant person. So stupid, you repeat to yourself, and you decide to talk to him normally, and that’s how your ages-long friendship came to life.

Vil wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. You come to find that he’s rather haughty, yes, and very strict with pretty much everything, but he was also very kind deep down, and willing to help you with anything you needed. He was a good friend. He was also, as you came to find out as you grew a little more, astoundingly pretty. With people disliking his “villainy” or not, by the time you’re starting middle school, he already consistently gets confessed to.

You’re a bit jealous. Not because you wanted Vil for yourself, no, he was just a good friend, but you wished people would find you as attractive as they found him, sometimes. You express that to him when you’re walking home together one day, and he laughs it off, saying it wasn’t as good as you thought it’d be. Still, you make him promise that if you were single by 30, he’d have to marry you, because if he just let you die alone, he’d be a bad friend. Vil seems strangely mesmerized by that, but he agrees.

Time goes by, you get to watch each other grow. Even with all the people going in and out of Vil’s life, he seems to keep you closer to his heart than everyone, and you never really lose contact with each other. Even when he’s busy, with movies or modeling or school, he still makes time to check up on you, and you see each other often.

When you’re actually nearing 30, Vil has reached a sort of stardom that burned your eyes just looking at, and you were so goddamn proud of him it was real. Somehow, he still makes time to show up for your birthday, after about a month of not really seeing each other -- And he spoils you to death on that day, the two of you spending all of it together and talking until it was late at night.

As the sun is about to rise, though, Vil’s chattiness subsides. About as sleep deprived as you, he says, softly “So since we’ve gotten there, and we’re both still single... maybe we should fulfill that promise from years ago, shouldn’t we?” You take a moment to process it, it’s tough remembering exactly when you made such a promise, but eventually you do. You feel like that should’ve been a joke, but the way Vil looks at you isn’t saying joke at all.

You sort of laugh it off either way, though. What, that silly promise? You ask, are you rubbing it in that you’re prettier than me? I can still find a partner looking like this, y’know. You think it’s funny, but Vil suddenly falls completely silent.

He then sighs, almost wistful, and says “Sure you can” before the conversation progresses... you’re not sure what happened, but life goes on after that like nothing happened. Deep down, Vil is feeling stupid for having taken the promise to heart, like he should have known better... but if you never really meant it, then what could he do but give it up? Even though it was the thing he wanted to do the least... he valued your friendship too much to do something that could possibly ruin it.

[some-dr-writings]

Rantaro, Gundham, and Shuichi x thieving troublemaker S/O:

Rantaro Amami:

·       You were the Super high School Level Thief. You could steal just about anything, even from the most guarded individual who knew of your identity. You never stole anything big, or planned at all really, you mostly just pickpocketed or engaged in petty theft, “Ugh, I’d never do a big heist. Planning and avoiding cameras and whatever is sooooooooooo boriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Taking things when the mood strikes is much, MUCH more exciting! Like seriously, I could get caught just doing it whenever, while if I plan… I already feel like falling asleep just thinking about it.” “… Ah, so that’s why you got the cops attention. You wanted the fun of running.” Rantaro simply smiled, patting you on the head. “… maybe.” He chuckled a bit seeing how you had grown sheepish, shrinking a little in your seat, nuzzling into him as you mumbled your response.

·       You stole just about anything within reach, so when you told Rantaro you were going to help him in his search, to steal his sisters back from the world, as you put it… it meant so much to him. It meant you thought they were close enough to get back.

·       Thankfully your tendency to end up running from the law came in handy. Always running you got real good at doing parkour through the city in order to escape. Rantaro always by your side, one of his hands clasped to yours, he’d end up being dragged along and he learned the art of your escape through much trial and error. With it he saw cities and towns in new angels he never had before or thought to consider. They were more places to search, the more the better, Rantaro was not going to overlook any place, he was going to find all his sisters.

·       Rantaro did worry about your talent though. Not the fact you stole, sure it could be a bad example for his sisters when you met, but as long as you were staying safe and were enjoying yourself he didn’t mind too much, but… what if you were caught one time, or what if during one of your escapes you got hurt… or worse. Rantaro could never stand the thought of that. The pair of you came to a compromise of sorts, when in a new place no stealing, but in places where you were you had been before and were somewhat familiar with the territory, stealing was fair game. You may have been the SHSL Thief but at heart you were more so a thrill seeker, stealing was just one of many ways of getting that rush, so if not stealing placed your boyfriend’s heart at ease, you were glad to do so.

·       Life, no matter how scary, or exciting, or anything else it was, you and Rantaro were side by side no matter what, always there to support the other. Rantaro with his relaxed demeanor was easily able to calm your excitable nature while you were able to show him new sides of the world and give him much needed energy when motivation was running low.

    Gundham Tanaka:

·       Gundham found you much like a Magpie, taking anything and everything shiny for the sake of it. You could not resist the urge to want to keep such glittering objects. You place was much like a Magpie’s nest, just filled with colorful glittering things, all arranged so beautifully. You were the Super High School Level Interior Designer, so Gundham only found it natural for you to so thoroughly enjoy showing off your dorm room. He found it fun to follow you around, listen to the stories of finding one item in a late night market in some far off country or some other which you took from a store.

·       Often when Gundham was lazing in his room for a rest or caring for his creatures in their dens he’d hear a knocking on the door. Almost every time it was you, covered in scrapes and bruises. When you first did this you were rather sheepish asking for help, but after some time you warmed up, soon just waiting for but a moment for Gundham to let you in, you sitting yourself some place while Gundham got a first-aid kit for you. In your escapades of finding and taking shiny items you liked without a second thought, you’d often end up getting caught by police and were in a chase before you could even go back and pay. You’d end up fumbling and dashing away in a panic. You always wound-up tripping, falling, rolling and crashing into things. Usually this would end up in injuries a mere band aid could not cover up, so you came to him for assistance. He was like your personal nurse, always patching you up. While he did so you’d end up showing off your prize, going on about your escape and wondering aloud if your penchant for stealing should be looked at and a habit to be broken.

·       Truthfully learning to not steal when you didn’t mean too would probably be good for you, but neither of you knew where exactly to start with that. Even if he couldn’t help there, Gundham at least took solace in knowing he’d always be there to heal you. He may be the overlord of Ice but caring for so many creatures he could be considered a white mage of sorts, more focused on healing and inflicting status effect on enemies, though when needed he knew how to fight! He loved you, you were his partner, the Great Void, Stringer of Dimensions, Stealer of The Stars, he was glad to help you however he could.

    Shuichi Saihara:

·       Shuichi loved you, but at times he did genuinely wonder why, or even how he fell for you in the first place.

·       You were a troublemaker and reveled in it. You would think you and Kokichi would be best friends because of that but you even targeted one another, you messing up his pranks and he taking items you were planning on stealing before you could. You were always foiling one another’s plans, taking such glee from outsmarting one another, and Shuichi was always caught in the crossfire, desperately trying and often failing at minimalizing the damage the pair of you caused and keeping others from getting caught up in your childish war. The pair of you were more like bickering siblings unlike the ‘rivels’ you both insisted you were. Shuichi was at least thankful you both had one another to target instead of the rest of the school… but with how bombastic your pranking could get you might as well have been targeting the school. Shuichi took it upon himself to search out the trouble you and Kokichi were going to cause before it could happen. With how both you and the boy would snicker at him, Shuichi sometimes thought he was actually both your target and the ‘rivals’ thing was just for show.

·       You weren’t all that bad though. You always returned anything you stole and helped clean up the messes you and Kokichi cased. It was when cleaning Shuichi got chances to chat with you. You lived for the thrill of the hunt you explained. Never before had you met people as capable to capturing you like Shuichi and Kokichi so you simply could not resist indulging yourself in this short time at high school before graduating and going back to the real world where your fun would have more serious consequences, even if you did make up for all you had done. You just wanted to liven up life while you could. That was a sentiment many people were probably feeling being at the school, including Shuichi, so, he indulged in your game too, always chasing you down as best he could.

·       In your trying to outsmart Kokichi and Shuichi chasing you down, you wound up in many… interesting positions. Once you were locked in a closet together, another you were trapped in a gazebo in the pouring rain, on a cruse ship to some foreign country, and every time you’d both catch a glimpse at Kokichi who’d just give you a thumbs-up and scream “GOOD LUCK ON YOUR DATE LOVE BIRDS!” at the top of his lungs. Though he’d pretend to leave, he’d more often than not stick around and spy in the most outrageous of costumes which never hid his identity. When things were getting boring Kokichi would spice things up, perhaps trip Shuichi and have him crash into you or something. Kokichi was the Ultimate Wingman neither you nor Shuichi wanted.

·       There was certainly never a dull moment with you around, there was always something to do, a change Shuichi rather liked.

[captain-ross-poldark]

Another interesting article from the Irish DM.

THE WOMAN WHO FINALLY TAMED POLDARK

By Maeve Quigley

Heartthrob Aidan Turner has a track record of dating co-stars and it seems like he’s finally found his leading lady as it’s revealed he and Caitlin Fitzgerald have tied the knot

THEY were the pictures that broke the hearts of thousands of fans — the dark-haired actor affectionately smooching his new wife on the romantic streets of Rome, as their wedding rings flashed in the warm Italian dusk. After three years of dating, Aidan Turner tied the knot with fellow thespian Caitlin Fitzgerald in a secret ceremony in the Italian capital last summer, although news of the nuptials has just broken.

The pair met on the set of adventure film The Man Who Killed Hitler And Then The Bigfoot and it seems — despite Turner’s previous protestations that he would never date another actress — they couldn’t help falling for each other.

Pictures taken on August 8 show the newlyweds days after tying the knot as they flashed their gold bands while enjoying a romantic al fresco dinner date at Pierluigi’s restaurant in Rome.

In the newly-released images, the loved-up pair seem unable to keep their hands off each other as they sip their drinks, holding on to one another as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

It is believed Fitzgerald also came to Ireland before the pandemic to meet Turner’s extended family — possibly ahead of their big day. Of course, she’s not the first woman with beauty and talent to be seen on the arm of the dashing Dubliner.

But at 37, the man whose shirtless scything in BBC drama Poldark had women everywhere a-quiver is now officially off the market.

Turner was born in Clondalkin, the son of Eileen, an accountant, and Pat, an electrician. He is the youngest of two boys; his brother works for the Revenue.

The family later moved to Walkinstown where growing up he was quite shy so his mum sent him to ballroom dancing classes as she felt it would help him no matter what career he chose. He became quite the champion and could possibly have been headed for an international career before he got bitten by the acting bug when he attended the Gaiety School of Acting, where he dated classmate India Whisker for a short time.

Even then, Turner’s dashing good looks were getting him noticed off stage.

To supplement his acting career, he got a job as a barman in famous Dublin nightclub Lillie’s Bordello, where he proved to be a big hit with the VIP guests

‘Women would come in just to stare at him,’ said former hostess now wellness guru and television presenter Andrea Hayes, who gave the acting student his position behind the bar. ‘I’m not joking.’

His first big acting break came when he landed the part of receptionist Ruairi MacGowan in RTE’s long-running medical drama The Clinic, taking the seat left vacant by another major success story, Chris O’Dowd, who also played a medical administrator on the show.

Around this time he was dating Charlene McKenna. The thenaspiring acting stars were together from 2007 to 2009 and shared a flat together in London before their relationship ended just weeks after McKenna had said in an interview how happy she was.

McKenna has recently got married in secret herself, to actor Adam Rothenburg, with whom she starred in Ripper Street, although she has said she still has a friendship with Turner.

‘He’s flying and I’m so proud of him,’ she said of Turner in a 2016 interview. ‘We still keep in touch and I knew he would do this well for himself. I always told him he would be a movie star.’

While they lived together, Turner landed his breakthrough role as tortured vampire Mitchell in the BBC Three hit Being Human.

Mitchell was torn between his blood lust and doing the right thing and was keen on leather trousers and coats, allowing Turner to smoulder on screen for the first but certainly not the last time.

He managed to gain a cult following from the role — as well as a new girlfriend in the form of his co-star Lenora Critchlow who played a ghost to Turner’s vampire.

When their relationship ended, Turner also chose to quit his role on the show.

But it was Being Human that got him his role in The Hobbit after director Peter Jackson saw him in the show and was struck by his elfin features. He never made it to the elves though, instead playing a dwarf.

And as his star ascended, he began dating another actress, this time Cork-born Sarah Greene. They had been friends for a few years after meeting on the set of Titus Andronicus, directed by Selina Cartmell at Dublin’s Project Arts Centre; but love didn’t blossom until much later.

‘I played Demetrius, her character wasn’t a named character but we met on that,’ Turner said in a magazine interview. ‘It was all very platonic and we never hooked up or anything, but that’s how we got to know each other. Then years later we just met again and it just sort of took off.’

Turner and Greene became the golden couple of the Irish drama scene, both with careers on the rise. They were together when he landed the role of Ross Poldark in the BBC revival of the Cornish drama that became a huge international success.

The fame that came with the role was difficult for both to handle as Turner is not a fan of being seen as a celebrity while Greene hated people taking photographs of her boyfriend while they went about their daily business.

Though then happy in his relationship with Greene, Turner admitted that he had been heartbroken in the past and it was something he was able to channel into his role as the brooding Ross Poldark, a man torn between two women.

‘I don’t know anyone on this planet who hasn’t had their heart broken,’ he told the Radio Times. ‘It’s happened to me. Love is love it’s the purest and rawest thing we have in life.’

As their careers progressed, the couple spent more time apart as Turner was in New Zealand with The Hobbit while Greene was working on projects like Vikings closer to home. But he insisted the distance wasn’t a problem.

‘You meet someone, you fall in love, then you can only see them over Skype or phone calls or texts and emails. And you have this whole other side to your relationship and it’s... it was fun,’ he said in a 2015 interview. He added: ‘We knew we really wanted to be together. And knew if we could do that, we could tackle a lot more. It was never: God, this is hard, bloody hell, we need to review this. This sucks. We never questioned it; it was great. So we had that from the beginning...’

But as the Poldark mania went into overdrive, so did the rumour mill and there were false reports of an engagement and even a secret wedding between himself and Greene. In actual fact the opposite was the case, with the relationship ending in 2015, five years after it started.

Turner then seemed to swear off dating those in the same business, despite his track record. In a press conference for the fourth series of Poldark, he said dating in acting circles meant you could never get away from work, admitting: ‘If you’re in my business and you find somebody who does exactly what you do and you’re living with them, then you’re in the business all the time.

‘You go home, talk about casting directors, you talk about the press, you talk about the next job you’re doing — it can become quite dull and taxing,’ he added.

So instead he was linked to a mystery law graduate, an advertising executive and then the artist Nettie Wakefield, who he dated for around a year before their hectic schedules drove them apart in what was described as an amicable split.

But obviously when he met the stunning blonde Irish-American, Caitlin Fitzgerald, 38, on a film set three years ago, Turner’s new rules went out the window, so bowled over was he by the beauty and talent of his co-star. By the time the film was premiered, the pair already looked smitten, posing on the red carpet together.

Fitzgerald appeared at a concert with Michael Sheen, with whom she starred in Masters of Sex but was seeing Turner at that time and like him, is an intensely private person.

Despite his fame and the stir his bare-chested scything caused, Turner has never been one to chase the celebrity lifestyle — perhaps because of those nights he spent observing celebrities while working behind the bar in Lillie’s.

‘If I allowed myself to let it change my life, it could,’ he has said in the past of his fame. ‘Where there’s celebrity, it’s easy to slip into that — being followed in nightclubs, or dating famous people or getting adverts. I’m just not interested in that stuff.

‘I want to do good work with good actors and filmmakers, read interesting scripts. I didn’t get into this business for celebrity. I did it for my love of film and stories and theatre.’

So although it has now been widely reported that he and Fitzgerald tied the knot in front of his parents Eileen and Pat, neither of them are likely to confirm their nuptials at any stage in the near future.

In fact, the only kissing Turner is likely to talk about is for his role in the film Leonardo, which explores the life and sexuality of Leonardo Da Vinci. In the film we will see Turner as the renaissance artist in a passionate clinch with another man as it explores Da Vinci’s sexuality and his rumoured affair with his apprentice Gian Giacomo Caprotti, better known by his nickname Salai. It is for his art that Turner intends to keep us all guessing as he’d rather we were interested in his roles than his romances.

‘It’s important to me that people don’t know too much about me because I’m trying to play characters,’ he has said in the past

‘Sometimes you see actors who are really good, but you have trouble separating that actor from the celebrity profile.

‘I don’t want to be one of those guys. It helps that people don’t know a lot about me, I guess.’

[filthfichunter]

The time of Witchers ended, but the Witchers didn't. Instead of killing the Witchers, the mages took them to use. to be milked for their cum and breastmilk to make potions and such, and be incubators, ass and magicked cunts, for their experiments and rare monsters. They learned the secret to changing Witchers and make as many as they need, the younger the better, because it gives more time for breeding them. They get used by anything and everything. stuffed full all the time and never free

Find the full fill here on AO3

Well Anon, I kinda just took the inspiration from your original prompt, and then as I tend to, got stuck in the "Explore How This Works" fussing around.

A DeadDoveDoNotEat exploration of the trials and training of Witcher trainees. What actually does happen to those that fail? #WhatHappensDuringTheTrialsStaysInTheTrials

The Brotherhood of Sorcerers setting up Witcher's training and creation to cultivate resilient fuck pets.

Seriously DeadDoveDoNotEat here.

More tiny vignettes based around the prompt. Sorry Anon, I'm apparently incapable of doing a short succinct fill without getting sucked into the larger "What If" spit balling.

*Geralt and Eskel aren't given an age here, but the fate of younger witcher trainees is explored, so I'm marking this underage but there actually isn't any graphic underage smut here, just magic users acting badly.

Content Warnings: Gangbang Not Safe Sane and Consensual Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con Trauma Object Penetration Dildos Fucking Machines Come Inflation Object Insertion Underage* - Grooming Anal Fisting Rimming Evil Plans

--- The True Fate of Failed Witcher Initiates ---

Less than one in ten boys that started their training to become a Witcher in the Wolf School at Kaer Morhen reached their last trial.

Geralt's school had always had one of the better survival rates, down mostly to the care and teaching from older Witcher instructors. If you survived your maiming and made it home alive you helped teach the next generation to avoid your mistakes.

Of those that did make it to the last trial before becoming a fully trained Witcher, it's was an even coin toss on their longer term survival rate. If they survived their last infusion of mutagens and chaos magic from the sorcerers, and lived through their first year on the Path most Witchers were likely to continue to survive baring the accidents and fatalities intrinsically tied to the vocation of course.

The Brotherhood of Sorcerers had use for Witcher's and were careful in how they grew each successive generation. Manipulating their concoctions and methods between each batch of initiates.

For all of the copius research notes that most of the sorcerers and magic users kept, it was still unknown who that first mage had been, or why they had decided to create a creature like a Witcher.

There were plenty of initiates across all of the various schools - the levels of attrition never really impacted the scale and scope of the Witchering work needing to be done compared to the trained workforce carrying out that work.

It wouldn't do to flood the market with too many new graduates when new jobs had statistically been on the down turn since the time of the great confluence.

If every Child Suprise, bartered third son, orphan or runaway that made it through the doors of the mountain keep of Kaer Morhen had been successful there would be too many of their mutant ilk, and the continent would be over run with too many Witchers and not enough work to keep them all employed and occupied not causing trouble for their betters.

The mages made certain to keep the numbers balanced.

It was no tragic circumstance that accounted for the total number of failed initiates. It wasn't just a cruel trick of fate that saw most of the number of boys thinned out early on in their training. It was down to the appetites of the mages in charge of creating new Witchers.

The more beautiful or submissive or sweet a boy, the more likely they would 'die' at their trial, or if the sorcerer was particularly horny it was likely their favorite would 'die' during a freak training accident.

No one ever saw the boys who didn't return from their trials or from the special healing rooms of the magic users who rotated through the Witcher schools.

They all heard the screams, could scent the distress and pain, but the one mercy the magic users gave to the Witchers was dealing with their failed boys.

There was no graveyard in Kaer Morhen.

The 'dead' were wisked away through portals to workshops and towers. The remains studied and used to tweak and feed the mutegens used on the next batch, the next trial, the next boy. At least that's what everyone thought.

The training even before the first trial made the boys lithe, strong and flexible. The physical drills and magical practice left them open to suggestion, helped along by a regiment of potions and tinctures.

The Brotherhood of Sorcerers helped raise a delectable and hardy stock of fuck pets.

It was a fun gig 'helping out' at a training school. If you were frequently involved in cultivating the new herd you had your pick of the boys. Most magic users had a predilection for sadomasochism and used their toys roughly. Centuries of sexual exploration of their appetites, boredom and unchecked magical power a dangerous combination.

The genius that thought to grow a cabal of fuck toys that could also help police the failed experiments and monsters that the Brotherhood's other experiments often created was a bonus.

Less work dealing with irate townspeople, more time on pleasure projects.

Stregobor was a prime example. He was known to have at least two nubile little Witcherlings in stasis if not actively being used in each of his tower strong holds at any given time. The boys would see to his pleasure, help in his experiments and rituals and then when they grew too damaged or boring he would trade them out for a new set. He'd almost single handedly depopulated the Cat School because of his appetite for little cat boys and disregard for the numbers needed to maintain the population.

The Cat School was considered particularly unhinged by the other school's of Witchers, another PR win by the sorcerers, it would not do for their pets to be too friendly with one another and start comparing notes.

Better they doubt one another and remain weary.

Anytime the secret got close to being figured out the Brotherhood would agree to cull the majority of the herd and start again if enough of them were still interested in heading up the Witcher sub committee or needed vessels for other projects.

Witcher Trials and Training:

Geralt and Eskel were the only two left in their age group when they were taken for special training in advance of their trials. If they did well, they might even receive extra instruction.

No one talked about their training sessions with the sorcerers. Or when asked couldn't share what their experience had been, unwilling or unable to recall what trials or training they had undergone.

Both had prepared in advance for the week they would spend in testing, by eating well doubling up on their stretches and conditioning.

When they both were returned everyone was too happy to see them alive to ask questions.

The physical proof of their hardships was evident to all, Geralt's hair gone white and Eskel with a limp that would take weeks of long soaks in the hotsprings and regular stretching, balm and massage to remedy.

There are only half memories and impressions they remember. More sensation and pressure, everything hazy and seemingly impossible.

Things they whisper to each other in their shared quarters, unsure if what they remember was reality or a shared fever dream brought about from their shared experience and love for one another.

Things they'll not discuss years later across campfires and in rooms at inns.

Experiences hard carved into their psyches, Eskel more reckless, Geralt more quiet and terse. Both prone to insomnia and short tempers.

They scrabble confidently together down over the back of the mountain keep toward a portal that will take them to a training evaluation and then, if they are lucky/unlucky a final trial together.

They'll be gone a week, or forever.

The long arms of the fucking machine engaged them both- halfway between where Geral and Eskel were both strapped down on breeding benches, limbs bound and their tits, asses and cocks made accessible.

The thrusting was constant and fast, cum churning up in their bellies, the large ballons wisk attachment similar to something found in bakeries- buried deeply in their guts, battering their insides, bashing their swollen prostates with each revolution.

Groans and cries over shadowed by a mechanical grinding of the machine, and the squelching sound as more and more fluid was introduced through the hollow handle of the device down into their bellies.

A robed figure came to periodically to check on them. Pulled the wide open balloon part of the wisk part way out. It's widest point would strain their assholes open obscenely wide, the chasma of their pink inside on display as more cum and icy cold potions were funneled into their depths.

Expanding and solidifying into an important alchemical agent.

Overfull and over stimulated holding on to one another pressed bloated belly to bloated belly sobbing as they tried to expell the contents packed so tightly in their bodies.

Desperate for one another after such a long session strapped down to their individual benches, so close to one another but unable to touch each other for reassurance as the volume inside them increased and their throats gave out dehydrated and unable to offer encouragement to each other.

Geralt chapped lips sealed around Eskel's ass hole frantically lapping and sucking racing to save his best friend, his brother from the rising toxicity of the solution still stuck inside.

The previously tightly furled hole, (something they would tap shyly on when exchanging blow jobs and hand jobs in their shared quarters) was swollen so much no wrinkles remained.

It was tighter than ever before, raw from frictions and stimulation. Acting as a barrier, keeping the massive solution retained behind, poisoning Eskel.

A crescendoing cascade of noise: squealing from Eskel, and slurping from Geralt who had to work frantically sucking the last of the solution out, spitting globs of thick mixture into the catchment bucket before diving face first back between the other boys cheeks.

Both their veins getting darker and darker as the toxicity spread.

Elbow deep in Eskel, drawing the last of it out, his friend's hiccuping cries and the very real throbbing pulse squeezing in time to the beat of Eskel's heart surounding him like a living glove.

The shuddering rhythm assuring him that they were both still alive.

Two pale pairs of buttocks crashing together, sharing a monsterously large double sided dildo.

The Sorcerers in charge of them making gestures and signs, causing the penetration to increase in both breadth and width.

Eskelin a crumpled ball, ass proped on folded slightly sprawled knees, face smashed bloody on the ground from when his arms and consciousness gave out.

Geralt straddled over and above the larger boy, taking more and more of the vibrating phallus deeper into himself- saving his friend more pain, even if he isn't awake to feel it, letting him rest.

The sting of over worked muscles and sweat running over open abrasions, thighs straining as he has to raise and squat down endlessly.

Both of their butt cheeks chaffed, red hot and bruised from the repeated impact and friction of slamming together.

The clapping of their asses accompanying the clapping and rasping sound of those watching stroking their own cocks along at the same pace.

The end of the dildo pulsing and expanding twisted so deep into him he is certain he'll choke on it before the Sorcerers who are watching are satisfied. -

Waking up alone certain that Eskel must be dead, must have failed the trials. -

Going through a second set of trials. -

His hair going white, the only outward sign his body is able to give, the only visible record of the trauma of his second lonely trial.

The relief, both felt at seeing each other again alive. Geralt and Eskel quiet and solem under the eyes of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Both thanking them for administering their training and trials. Both turning to travel back up the mountain over the path named Killer back to Kaer Morhen and hopefully to a future where they will now both be on a Path together. -

Whenever they are within each other's orbit they'll always Interlock their fingers grasping tightly, fingers laid against one another's pulse points, just checking to make certain.

Gladthey survived where so many other initiates died and were lost forever.

Not knowing that scores of their number still lived locked under spell and command, still existing in an unending trial.

[hamilsquadwritings]

The Flowers (Philip Hamilton Soulmate AU) ~ part 2 ~

A Soulmate AU in which flowers bloom from your left ring finger, coiling up and around your body, Identical to your soulmates. They stop growing when you meet and turn white when you get together

(I decided to work on an old idea I had on my old blog @stargazelaurens and develop it properly)

Words- 1.85k

Warnings- Eacker being a tool

Tag list {omg people want to be tagged?!<33}: @angelicl-y @popbubblegumpop @elizabethgrace459

{{let me know if you wanna be added!!}}

Things were going.. okay? 

It was a few weeks later and you'd gone out with George more times. You were really beginning to like him, your parents of course liked him. Your sister however.. she felt there was something off about him. She couldn't put it into words however so you pushed it aside to focus on trying to make it work. It helped you have someone to take your mind off of Philip. He'd often be at your house with your sister so it was nice to head out with George.

He'd taken you out to the gardens, for dinner, to the market, but not back to his parents home. Well until last night. He’d invited you to dinner with your parents. It had started off well. They'd be pleasant, even a little warm which made you feel happy, maybe you'd have a relationship with them. After dinner his mother suggested that he give you a tour of the estate, his family was rich so it was a lengthy tour. You were happy to learn more about it, so far it was be surface level questions you'd asked about him, and he about you.  He started the tour with the gardens, they were beautiful, his mother had a vegetable patch that she was incredible proud of, she also had a pink and red rose bush that had been in the family for over 100 years, all the family wedding bouquets were picked from that bush. Next was the library, it was incredible, far more impressive than you'd ever seen, you could spend hours just counting the books let alone reading them. Every place he showed you were prettier than the last. Until you got to his room and the small room next to it. 

____

"This will be your room once we get married, we've have a bathroom through there," he said pointing at the second door in the room "and three maids set out for you to help and assist as you need. You'll be able to roam the grounds as you please, when we don't have guests of course. And you'll come to events with me and when I have time off you'll be able to leave with me-" you had cut him off mid ramble 

"Wait- I won't be able to leave on my own?" You asked in disbelief, he couldnt serious could he?

"Well of course not, you're not some common girl-" he started

"What about seeing my friends? And my family?" Your asked quickly

"I'll be your family" he replied simply

"I'd like to go home" you replied and turn to move, he grabs your arm to stop you getting any closer to the door 

"Listen" he said, leaning really close "you don't get to decide, you're going to be MY wife which means you if don't to do as I say- STOP IT!" He yelled as you struggled against him. You continued to struggle so he let go, striking you across your cheek, you landed on the floor in shock. He looked down at you in disgust "I've been nice these last few days to settle you into our way of life since your father let's you live on such a loose lead but I won't tolerate it. If you want it the hard way we can. Get. Up."

______

That's how you ended up in the carriage. You'd been given a moment to compose yourself before returning to the dinning room for tea with your "husband" and "parents". Your new family..

After tea and biscuits George called for a carriage 

"I can get myself home.." you mumble but he follows you into the carriage anyway. 

"I'm taking you home, you shouldn't be out on your own" he says "you won't be after next month anyway.." he says

"Next month?" You ask meeting his eyes for the first time this evening "what..?"

"Our wedding of course.. the date was set last night, the 13th.." he says. The 13th? That was a little less than three weeks away! "Oh? I guess your father hadn't told you.." 

"Uh, no.." you respond quietly, you couldn't let that happen, they couldn't take you away from your sister and Theo! 

The carriage ride home was quiet. George had tried to talk to you a couple of times, quickly giving up when you wouldn't respond. He didn't mind humoring you, you'd be his in less than three weeks, then you wouldn't be able to ignore him. As soon as the carriage arrived you shot out, walking down the path, not even replying when he said goodnight. 

"Hi" a soft voice says from behind you causing you to jump "sorry!" Philip says quickly "I didn't mean to startle you! Your parents went out for the evening and (s/n) is getting ready for- what's wrong?' he asks when he sees your panic stricken face 

"Where is everyone..?" You ask your self once you get inside. You couldn't see either of your parents or your sisters. All the downstairs lights were off.

"I'm getting married.." you whisper, shaking your head quickly when he smiles "they- they won't let me see my family after the wedding.. they have a little room I have to stay in and-" 

"Oh (y/n).." Philip says softly, wrapping his arms around you quickly. You fell against him with tears in your eyes "that's really unfair.." he didn't know what to say, it was more than unfair but he didn't know how to comfort you. He hadn't had much interaction with you over the past few weeks. Sure he'd spent a lot of time at your house but he'd either been with your sister or you'd been out you with George. Angelica would tell him a lot about you, mainly how nice and lovely you were. Philip had graduated school last summer, and you'd finished just before He'd met your sister. He'd always remember the day you'd gone into the debate club, you'd destroyed Jefferson's son on your first turn, he knew you'd make a great addition to the team. He'd left the team in your capable hands last year, just as you'd left the team in the capable hands of his little brother last month after you'd graduated.

"I-I’m sorry" you said quickly pulling away from him, what were you doing hugging and crying all over your sister fiance

"It's okay I promise" he says reassuringly as he pats your back gently as your sister appears at the top of the stair case

"(Y/n)??" She asks as she descends the stairs, her worry for your clear across her features "what's happened?" She asks as she pulls you close, her arms wrapping around your protectively. Philip sits with you and your sister as you explain everything that had happened that evening. 

By the time you'd finished your sister was shaking with rage, Philip had had to get her a glass of water and physically hold her back from standing up. He knew if she got to the door she would've marched over, well called a carriage, to the Eacker’s estate to give him and his parents a piece of her mind. NO ONE treated her little sister badly, not a single person.

"There's got to be something we can do.." Philip says softly as the room goes quiet in thought

"You're not marrying him" your sister declared after a few seconds, over her dead body would she let her baby sister be mistreated. How dare that- she was pulled from her thoughts by your voice

"I don't have a choice Daddy-" you start

"No, if I have to marry for his business and power you should have too" she says cutting you off, she gives Philip a sympathetic smile but he nods and smiles gently. He already knew, he'd met Theo a few days after their first date. He'd been with (S/N) when Theo had spotted her in the market and came running over to say hi. He'd made that connection pretty quickly.. it was a shame because he was really beginning to like (S/N), it was okay though, maybe if she was off with Theo it would give him a chance to look for his soulmate.. they had to be out there right? Little did he know she was sat across from him

"(S/N) there's nothing you can do.. he's already decided and they've set a wedding date.." you sigh softly, your eyes filling with more tears as your sister hugs you quickly to comfort you

"What if..." Philip says softly as he looks at the wall, he turns to your both, a small glint in his eye, could he have the answer? "I convinced my dad to call off our engagement unless your parents call off the Eackers?" 

"They.. they might go for that.." your sister says as she thinks it over 

"Y-youd do that for me?" You asks Philip quickly, you were in shock. You'd been actively avoiding Philip and he was willing to do this for you?!

"Of course" he says quickly, a little too quickly, he blushes lightly hoping neither you nor your sister would notice. Your eyes fill with more tears as you hug him, your emotions over powering you. How was it that your sister was going to marry such an amazing guy she didn't even want and you were stuck with Eacker. Well maybe not, hopefully you wouldn't be stuck with Eacker but it still pained you that Philip was promised to your sister, especially when she already had Theo..

"That's a really good idea.." your sister smiles as she hugs Philip 

You spent the rest of the evening in your room with Philip and your sister, working together to come up with a plan. Philip would explain the situation first to his mother, putting great emphasis on how worried he was for your safety. She would be appalled at George's actions and would immediately tell Slexander, he wasn't sure how his father would react. Either he'd pull the engagement because if this got out it would be bad for your father which would be bad for him, or he would cut contact for moral reasons. Anyone who could allow their child to be imprisoned like that was NOT someone he wanted his family to be associated with. 

Meanwhile your sister would talk to your parents, explaining the situation from a protective older sisters view. She would explain how she'd found you crying and had finally managed to coax out the story of the evenings events. She would demand that they cut the engagement or she'd refuse to marry Philip. If he didn't want to cut off the Eackers’ then she'd give Philip the okay to talk to his mum and set the second plan in motion. 

"You really think it'll work..?" You ask nervously wiping the tears. A small smile breaks out when they nods reassuringly. 

You only hoped that it would work, the thought of marrying a man who would lock his wife away I a room made you sick to your stomach..

[limjaeseven]

The Boyfriend Dilemma

Pairing: Jaebeom X Jinyoung

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,896

Warning(s): JJP being cute as hell, fake dating!au

Summary: Jinyoung had lied to his mum about having a boyfriend. What does he do when she asks him to bring said boyfriend over for Christmas dinner?

[a/n]: I know I’m a bit late but here it is, this fic was lots of fun to write so I hope you enjoy it! Written for @ksmutclub​‘s ‘Under the Mistletoe’ project.

Christmas Eve was usually a calm night in for Jinyoung, spent curled on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. That was until his mother called him, asking him to come for dinner on Christmas with his boyfriend. He was eternally grateful that his mother couldn’t see the way he cringed on the other side of the line as she mentioned his love life. You see, there was a small issue, Jinyoung didn’t really have a boyfriend.

Jinyoung’s mother had always wanted Jinyoung to find a good man and settle down, having come to terms with her son’s attraction towards men a long time ago, she just hated the idea of her son being lonely, without someone to look after him. The thought wasn’t unfounded, Jinyoung was known to work late nights, get little to no sleep and go for days without bothering to eat properly. His mother only knew of one out of the four incidents on Jinyoung ending up in the hospital due to exhaustion after he had left home for college.

She kept asking him if he had found anyone, setting him up for dates with her friends’ sons when he graduated college without having been in a relationship even once. It wasn’t even like Jinyoung wasn’t interested in being in a relationship or guys weren’t into him, he just hadn’t found the one for him and regardless of whether he sounded childish or not, he hoped to find true love, or at least a man who he would want to spend the rest of his life with.

After four years of constant nagging and pretty bad dates, Jinyoung finally decided he was done with all the nagging and lied to his mum about being in a relationship. He was smart enough to not reveal too many details about his imaginary boyfriend, because he knew eventually his mum would ask him to bring the boy home and he would have to strategically plan a fake breakup before that but he didn’t expect her to call him over for Christmas, since his parents were usually working through the holiday.

“But Jinyoung, your dad and I took a day off just so we could meet your new boyfriend, we thought Christmas would be the one opportunity where you both would be off from work and could drive over” And despite how hard he tried, his mum didn’t let up. He couldn’t fake a breakup, he had just told her that his relationship was going strong a week prior, which meant he would either have to come clean to his mom or try something else.

Jinyoung would have scoffed at the idea of hiring a date, he actually had once when he saw an ad for what was basically an escort service disguised as a date-for-hire app on TV. Little did he know that not months after that ordeal he would be sitting on his bed on Christmas Eve, looking through a catalogue of good looking men, trying to pick one to be his fake boyfriend to appease his mum.

The options weren’t bad, there were a few men there he felt genuinely attracted to, but they were all either too nerdy or too bad boy looking for what he had described to his mum. Unfortunately, Jinyoung had gotten a bit too carried off by his description of his fake boyfriend and had described more of his dream man, one Jinyoung knew he would never find, to his mum.

That was till his eyes landed on the name ‘Lim Jaebeom’ accompanied by the photo of a man pulled right out of his wet dreams. He had long, black hair that brushed his shoulders, dressed in a designer suit with a face to match. His eyes were alluring, the two moles above his left eye too perfect to be real. Jinyoung pinched his arm, wincing at both the pain and the realisation that he was not, in fact, dreaming.

Clicking through to his profile, Jinyoung read through the man’s likes and hobbies listed and wondered if he was high, because it felt like the man he had described to his mum had been brought to life. The rates were low enough for Jinyoung to be able to afford the man for a night, and even though he couldn’t believe that he was hiring a ‘date’, one look at Jaebeom’s photo made him forget all those thoughts, and all that filled him was the anticipation.

Once he made his payment, he was given the option to chat with Jaebeom in order to discuss the date. Clicking the link he was provided, he stared at the text box for ten minutes before sending a ‘hey’, his hands shaking as he saw the word ‘typing’ linger at the bottom of the screen.

Jaebeom: Hey Jinyoung, how can I help you?

Jinyoung: So, this is kinda embarrassing but I lied to my mum about having a boyfriend and now she’s asked me to bring him home for Christmas dinner so I panicked and hired you to be my fake boyfriend for a night :/

Jaebeom: Don’t worry Jinyoung, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to be someone’s fake boyfriend, we should quickly go over what you’ve already told your mum about your ‘boyfriend’ first and work from there

Jinyoung: This is super weird but like somehow everything I told her about ‘him’ was listed in your likes and hobbies, like a love for music and cats. All I told her is I met ‘him’, or in this case you, at a café where you worked, you wrote your number on my cup and I texted you and we started dating

Jaebeom: Okay, at least I don’t have to pretend like I know anything about stock markets or something

Jinyoung: You’ve had to do that before?

Jaebeom: Oh yeah, some girls I’ve accompanied lied about dating a rich CEO and I had to borrow my friend’s Gucci suit for it, that was interesting

Jinyoung: Sounds like it

Jaebeom: Is there anything else I should know?

Jinyoung: Beware of my mum, she will ask a lot of questions, just go with the flow. Also wear an ugly sweater, my mum is big on Christmas traditions

Jaebeom: I don’t think I have any ugly sweaters, I’ll have to get one. How about I get us a matching pair? She might like that

Jinyoung: You are a genius Jaebeom, I’ll pay you for the sweater, just come here by 6pm so that I have enough time to get ready and we can drive over to my parents’ in time

Jaebeom: Will do, also don’t worry about paying, that’s on me

Jinyoung: But

Jaebeom: No buts, it’s getting late, you should sleep some, we can discuss any other details tomorrow

Jinyoung: Okay fine, good night Jaebeom

Jaebeom: Good night Jinyoung

It was past noon when Jinyoung woke up the next day, his brain deciding to oversleep on the one day he would have liked to wake up early and get ready properly. Jinyoung managed to get out of bed in time for lunch, taking a long bath in preparation for dinner, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come.

Jaebeom had texted him in the morning, asking for his address, which Jinyoung sent him, accompanied by an apology for his delayed response. They texted back and forth for a bit, engaging in normal small talk before Jaebeom signed off to head to the mall to buy the aforementioned sweaters.

At precisely six o’clock, Jinyoung’s doorbell rang, revealing a man about a thousand times more gorgeous than the photo Jinyoung had seen on the app, standing at his doorstep. He swallowed visibly, his throat suddenly parched, as Jaebeom stood there, dressed in a pair of black trousers, a white t-shirt and a long, brown coat, holding a bag in his hand.

“Come in” Jinyoung said, barely managing not to stutter, as he welcomed Jaebeom inside his apartment. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice calling him dumb to allow a stranger inside his house but something about Jaebeom just pulled Jinyoung in and clouded his judgement. Jaebeom slipped off his oxfords, extending the cover in his hand to Jinyoung as he settled down on the couch. Confused for a moment, Jinyoung quickly realised that the bag probably contained the sweaters Jaebeom had been tasked to buy.

“I said UGLY Christmas sweaters, not cat sweaters, we can NOT wear these.” Jinyoung exclaimed in horror as he examined the pastel blue and pink coloured sweaters the man had bought, adorned with large cats and the words ‘Meowy Christmas’ in calligraphy font on the front. Jaebeom smiled sheepishly as he got up from his seat and made his way to Jinyoung, grabbing the blue sweater from his left hand.

“They didn’t have any ugly sweaters at the mall that I actually liked, and these were too cute to say no to” Jaebeom made his best puppy eyes at Jinyoung, causing the younger to groan.

“I can’t believe this, my sisters will not let me live this down” Jaebeom just pouted, taking off his coat to pull the sweater over his head. Jinyoung would be lying if he said he didn’t ogle at Jaebeom’s biceps flexing as he changed his clothing. When caught staring by Jaebeom, he promptly turned around, clutching the garment in his hand to his chest and running inside to put it on, but mostly to calm his beating heart down.

Jaebeom was unnecessarily attractive, and that was not good for Jinyoung’s heart because he didn’t want to develop a crush on a dude he paid to spend the night with, even though Jinyoung knew it was too late, he had already formed a soft spot for the man’s warm smile and adorable pout. Pulling on the pink sweater, Jinyoung checked himself out in his bedroom mirror, admitting to himself that it actually looked rather cute on him.

“Shall we get going?” Jinyoung asked as he stepped back out into the living room, to which Jaebeom nodded, grabbing his car keys and walking Jinyoung out of his apartment. The two settled into Jaebeom’s car, Jinyoung feeding his parents’ address into the GPS system in Jaebeom’s car to guide them to their destination.

“So, any nicknames or that sort of thing you want to talk about, you know, to convince your parents that we actually know each other and didn’t meet each other for the first time like half an hour ago?” Jaebeom turned to Jinyoung just to guage his reaction before turning back to the road.

“Well the website said you were born in jan 1994, meaning you’re older than me, so how about hyung?” Jaebeom nodded, thinking for a moment before replying.

“Hyung is fine with me, what about you? Are you comfortable with Jinyoung-ah or would you want something more cutesy like Jinyoungie or Nyoungie?”

“Honestly I’m fine with anything, like I said, go with the flow. I haven’t told my mum enough for most anything for you to say to sound too suspicious. Just be yourself, your profile said you like music, talk about that, maybe” They talked a bit about themselves for the rest of the drive, sharing crucial information required to make it look like they know each other well.

Jinyoung sighed as he stood in front of his parents’ house, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. Sensing Jinyoung’s discomfort, Jaebeom offered the boy a warm smile, waiting for him to ring the bell to alert Jinyoung’s parents of their arrival. After five minutes of Jinyoung trying to calm himself down, he finally mustered enough courage to reach over to press the doorbell.

“Oh Jinyoungie, you’re finally here! Come in, come in” Jinyoung’s mother greeted them, welcoming them inside their house. Jaebeom looked around for a moment, admiring the classy furniture of the house covered in brightly coloured tinsel and other Christmassy accoutrement.

“Mom this is Jaebeom, my boyfriend” Jinyoung signalled to his mother, who smiled at Jaebeom, wrapping him in a warm hug. She dragged them to the living room, sitting them down on the couch before calling Jinyoung’s father and sisters from the kitchen to join them.

“Nice sweater, Nyoung” Jinyoung’s elder sister snickered, causing Jinyoung to hit her arm lightly before turning to his mom.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jaebeom. I was worried our Jinyoungie would never find himself a man, but now that you’re here I feel relieved that he finally has someone in his life”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs Park. Jinyoung talks a lot about you”

“Oh please, no need for the formalities, call me mom. I’m sure he talks about how I nag him all the time, doesn’t he” Jaebeom chuckled as the loud groan from Jinyoung’s end.

“Absolutely not, he talks about how much he loves you, he knows you worry about him” Jinyoung’s mom smiled at that, reaching ruffle her hand through her son’s hair.

“So how long have you two been dating?” Jinyoung’s oldest sister asked.

“Three months”

“Four months”

Jinyoung and Jaebeom said at the same time, causing a look of confusion to cross over Jinyoung’s family’s face. Before Jinyoung could come up with a lame excuse, Jaebeom placed his warm hand reassuringly on Jinyoung’s thigh and addressed his parents.

“We went out together for the first time four months ago, which I thought was a date but Jinyoung thought was us just ‘getting to know each other’. According to him we only started dating three months ago, it’s something we fight about all the time”

“That sounds like my son, oblivious and stubborn” Jinyoung’s father commented.

The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly, a few slips here and there covered up quickly by Jaebeom. They sat next to each other at the dinner table, Jaebeom’s hand resting on Jinyoung’s thigh throughout, as a way to reassure the younger that Jaebeom was here for him.

“It’s time for the mistletoe photos, this is the first time I’ll get one of Jinyoung kissing his boyfriend!” Jinyoung stiffened, as he turned to Jaebeom, realising that he would have to kiss the elder. Squeezing the elder to signal his apology, Jinyoung guided the elder to where the mistletoe had been hung in the living room, Jinyoung’s father bringing out the old polaroid camera to click a picture. Jinyoung stood there for a moment, too nervous to actually kiss the elder, till Jaebeom gave in, placing his hands on either side of Jinyoung’s face and placing a chaste kiss on the younger’s lips.

It was like a lightning bolt had hit Jinyoung, a shiver ran down his spine at the touch of just their lips, causing him to chase Jaebeom’s lips as they split from his own. Jinyoung’s father handed them one of the two photos he clicked, the other going straight to Jinyoung’s mother’s collection.

By the end of the night, they were all happy and exhausted. Jinyoung didn’t want to leave but he reluctantly let go of his mom because he had to go to work the next morning and Jaebeom probably had work too. Just as they were about to leave, Jinyoung’s mother pulled him aside to talk to him privately.

“You know, Jaebeom is a pretty nice boy, I like him a lot”

“I’m glad you like him mom, I like him too”

“If you do you should actually ask him out”

“What!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know when my son was lying to me? He looks at you like I look like your dad Nyoung, I’m pretty sure you both barely know each other but I think you should give him a shot if he’s interested, you two seem perfect for each other” Jinyoung merely groaned and hid his face in his palms as he lamented at his unsuccessful attempt to fool his mum. He did agree with her though, he would like to actually go out with Jaebeom, hopefully with Jinyoung paying for his meal instead of his time. Promising to call her soon, Jinyoung grabbed a hold of Jaebeom’s hand, guiding him to the car.

The drive back home was quite, comfortably so. Jinyoung looked out the window, thinking back on the few hours he had spent with Jaebeom and the many more he wants to spend with him. When they arrived back at Jinyoung’s place, the younger looked over at Jaebeom, before closing his eyes and leaning in. Half expecting to be rejected, Jinyoung jumped when Jaebeom’s lips met his halfway, and they shared a sweet kiss.

“Will I see you again?” Jaebeom asked, and Jinyoung reached over for Jaebeom’s arm, one of his hands digging through his pocket for the pen he always carried around. After scribbling on his number onto his arm along with a few hearts, Jinyoung stepped out of the car, turning around to bid his farewell.

“I do charge for dates though” Jaebeom added, making Jinyoung’s face fall suddenly.

“Ten kisses for every hour” Jinyoung smiled at Jaebeom’s bad joke, his face lighting up once more as he waved at Jaebeom, the elder sending him a flying kiss before driving off. Jinyoung went to sleep with a smile on his face. His lie had after everything, turned into a hopeful tomorrow for Jinyoung.

[hailbop1701]

Only The Beginning

Chapter 3: Oops?

Chapter three everyone! This one was a lot of fun to write and I hope you all enjoy reading it! I want to thank the new Beta Reader for this story @toppysammy! Thank you so much, hun! 🥰

-H❤🖖

The sound of your hurried running echoes in the stairwell as you fly up the steps. Panting, you skid into the wall as you dodge a small barrage of gunfire. Instead of continuing up the seemingly never-ending staircase, you barrel through the forty-seventh-floor emergency door. Slowing down, you duck into a side office hoping that the very heavily armed men chasing you pass you by; taking deep calming breaths to slow your heart back down, you peek into your bag. Sighing in relief, you see that the computer drive you stole remains intact.

“Census data my ass,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes. The picture of a murdered young woman flashes in your head; the crime scene photos were pretty awful, her body mangled and twisted on a sidewalk. The PD declared it a suicide but the family of the victim--no, of Julia Lawson--was convinced that it was murder. 

And after some imaginative investigating, you were convinced right along with them. She was too happy. Engaged to be married, a good job offer in Boston, went grocery shopping the night before. Hell, she was even graduating college that coming June. 

The suicide note was a text. Julia was in school for classic literature and poetry; no way in hell would she send a suicide text. It was completely out of her character from what you gathered from her social media and your discussions with her younger brother. It took you precisely three hours to decode the case.

“Color me disappointed, wonder if they were paid off,” you muse quietly and make a mental note to talk to John about it later. 

Biting your lip, you slowly move out of the small office and out into the open. Careful to keep your footsteps muffled against the hardwood floor, you strain your ears to hear incoming threats. The thudding sounds of boots make you freeze and tense, your hand slowly inching toward the back of your pants where your gun sat snug and cold against your skin.  

The far door bangs open, letting five armored men into the room, gun raised and ready. Crouching low, you inch forward, weaving through the lines of cubicles while keeping your senses open. You decide against the gun and reach for the knife in your boot. Cocking your head to the side, you hear the distinct crackle of a voice talking quietly over an earpiece. The squeak of boots against the polished floor five feet from your current hiding spot make you grit your teeth. At least I won’t get into too much trouble, these assholes are black market, you think, hoping to ease your guilt. 

Taking a steadying breath, you grip your combat knife tightly. The armored merc strolls almost casually past you. His comm beeps, most likely looking for an update. He presses a finger to his ear, “All clear here.” 

You choke on a snort before creeping out of the shadows, staying just behind the man in front of you. Taking a cursory glance around the room, you spy two more mercenaries searching the break area and what seems to be the boss’ office. When they turn their backs you spring, clapping a hand over the man’s mouth and plunging a knife into the man’s neck. He gurgles on his blood for a second before crumpling to the ground. You fall with him, quickly muffling his crash to the floor. Pausing, you wait to see if the other men notice. When they don’t, you drag the dead man over to a shadowed corner. 

Huffing, you keep low and speed through the room, only stopping long enough to dodge and hide from the men in the room. Sneaking up to the exit, you gently pull the door open, praying it doesn't decide to squeak or groan. 

You honestly really should have seen the android coming. Sneaky bastards. 

Yelping, you fly over the cubicles right into the wall of windows. The reinforced glass cracks and spider-webs at the impact.

“Rude,” you mutter after sliding painfully to the floor. 

The android doesn't comment and stalks over to you. The mercs still in the room shout in surprise and raise their weapons. They form a semi-circle around you, cutting you off from your exit. Scowling, you stand up, spitting blood right onto Robo-dick's shoes. He doesn't much appreciate it. 

The Android springs forward and grabs you by the throat. “Not this shit again!” you splutter as your airway closes. 

He lifts you into the air and slams you into the glass again. It splinters and creaks under the pressure. Choking, you glance down, your eyes widening at the drop. 

No surviving that, you think dryly. 

Gritting your teeth, you release the android's tightening hand; with lightning-fast reflexes, you pull the gun from your pants and fire. Four shots and the mercs are down; they didn’t expect you to be that fast. You suppose it wasn’t their fault; they hadn't known you are superhuman. The shocked and horrified expressions stay with them like a bad picture. 

The mercenaries’ android tightens his grip even further causing you to choke and drop the gun. He twists and throws you to the ground at his feet and without saying a word he lifts a booted foot over your head and plunges it down. You grab onto it just in time, grunting under the strain you give his ankle a violent twist. 

Not expecting this turn of events, the android stumbles back a foot or two, his ankle twisted around. Without losing momentum, you kick out your leg, snapping his knee backwards. Jumping to your feet, you rush the humanoid machine, grabbing one of the discarded guns from the floor. Cocking the gun, you fire, the gun discharging loudly and the sound of the bullets against synthetic flesh make you wrinkle your nose. 

The android stumbles back into the compromised windows. The gun clicks, signaling that it is out of ammo. You drop it and surge forward. Without missing a beat, you twist and kick your enemy in the chest, sending him crashing through the window. 

The sound of a crash followed by horns and screeching tires make you wince. “I’m in so much trouble,” you breathe as you look down at the carnage below. Praying the dead android hadn't landed on anybody, you start to scrub the scene. Wiping your prints from every surface you could think of, you secure your unregistered glock haphazardly and peek over the ledge of the shattered window. Peering down at the street below, you hiss in frustration. Multiple police and fire trucks glitter below. 

“Good response time,” you compliment, both impressed and annoyed. Taking one last glance at the scene, you rush out the door back into the stairwell. Dashing down the steps onto a different floor, you enter another section of offices. Grabbing various items from different desks, you pull yourself together. You throw on a pair of glasses, put your hair up, turn on the crocodile tears, and affect a look of shock and fear. You curl up under a desk just in time for police to enter, guns raised. An officer takes one look at you and sees a scared civilian. He escorts you down to the lobby and points at the evac point. Rushing toward it, you watch out of your peripheral as the officer runs back to the elevators. 

You weren’t the best actress in the world but it was enough to convince the people around you, too preoccupied with the situation to notice you slip away into the gathering crowd. You would have made it too if it weren’t for the sudden strong grip on your elbow. Snapping your head up you see John looking down at you completely unimpressed. 

“I can explain…” 

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Only The Beginning:

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[strawbrieshortcake]

Falling For U

Song: Falling for you-Mxmtoon, Peachy!

Iwaizumi Hajime x reader

Warning: My shot at writing and angst, swearing, fem!reader :)

A/N: Feel free to listen to the song while you read! Happy birthday hajime!

I was hanging with you when I realized I didn’t think it was true, I was surprised 

.

It was the practice match with Karasuno when Hajime realized what he felt towards you. The bubble of feelings that were held strong in his chest everytime he thought about you. Or the clamminess in his hands when you would talk to him, the hitch in his breath when you would get close enough for him to smell of perfume you would put on in the mornings. You were around him all the time, being friends with him and Oikawa, while also being the manager of Aboa Johsai’s volleyball team. It was hard not to feel pulled in by you. It was hard to be far away.

It was confusing for him, really. Brush the thoughts away, continue practicing, win, and continue with the day. This was a normal occurrence for him. You were just a close friend since middle school, nothing more nothing less. But when the feelings get so strong, it’s hard to brush them off. Why can’t you get off my mind-

“Iwa-Chan! Why do you look so mad? Is it because we lost? Aw! It’s okay!-”

“Shut the hell up shitty-kawa” Hajime remarks coldly kicking the rocks beneath his feet on the sidewalk, as Oikawa screeches almost hitting the side of the building.

“Guys! Can we not?” You sigh before continuing to walk just to show your frustration to the two boys in front of you. The walk continues in a comfortable silence (only because you glared at Oikawa, giving him the shut the hell up look), but you pipe up again.

“We may have lost, but it was just a practice! So don’t feel too bad Iwa! We will have them next time!” You chriped, running in front of the boys, the sunset hitting the back of your head giving you a warm aura outlining your body. A goddess Hajime thought as he looked at you as his face flushed in a light pink, painting over his sun kissed skin. Oikawa gave you a genuine smile, then joined you in trying to make Hajime feel better about what they thought was over the loss, but in reality over you.

When I found out I’ve fallen for you

.

I didn’t want to believe my feelings for you

I didn’t want to believe that I could lose you

It was a week after that practice game when Hajime realized how much love he felt for you. It was a normal day, you were hanging out with the other third years during lunch. You were sitting across from him at the table, Oikawa standing behind you, Hanamaki on your left side and Matsukawa on Hajime’s left. Hajime was eating his food, not as engaged in the conversation as you and the others were.

“So what are you gonna do after we graduate y/n-chan?” Oikawa questions while trying to shove Hanamaki so he could sit next to you,slowly twirling his finger around a piece of your hair. Haijme’s eyes meet yours as you think of an answer, and you smile at him. Once again, you made his heart flutter.

“Oh, I’ll probably stay here to help out with the market my family owns, remember?” You say as you continue to eat your lunch. Oh y/n that was one thing Hajime loved about you, the fact you were so kind and considerate. As long as he has known you, you never once changed your mind about what you wanted to do. Your family owned a small market/cafe near the school, you always wanted to make it bigger, more customers so your family wouldn’t be in debt due to all the bills. If only Hajime could be the one who helped you with that dream.

“Aw! Y/n-chan! You’re so cute! Always wanting to help others!” Hajime noticed the way your eyes sparkled, the way your face slightly flushed into a soft pink. He wanted to have that effect on you, but he decided to stay quiet. He won’t lose you, or at least that's what he wanted to tell himself.

If I told you just how I felt

.

But I can’t help it, I’m falling for you,

and I can’t quit it,

‘cause I’m stuck on you

Two weeks after your eyes sparkled, Hajime told himself he would be the person to make you do that. Outside of volleyball of course. Your eyes would sparkle for volleyball,when your favorite artist released a new song, and when you would gush about your favorite show’s new episode. He has never seen a person's words make your eyes sparkle.

Now you were at practice, filling out paperwork on the gym’s floor next to the door. The boys were in the middle, working on the drills the coach assigned.

“Okay, I’ll give you five” The coach left the gym, doing who knows what. I can do it Hajime silently thought to himself before carrying his legs towards you, one stop at a time. Each step was filled with so much force, he felt like he could split the ground to two. Your eyes met his again, but no sparkle.

“Hey Iwa! What’s up?” You ask before sitting up to face your body completely towards him.

“Nothing...just wanted to see what you were doing.” He coughed out before joining you on the ground. He turns his head to face you, before realizing how close he seated himself to you. He could practically feel the warmth your body radiated, but he didn’t mind, only if it's you. He could hear the snickers in front of him, only to give a slight glare to Matsukawa and Hanamaki. You turn your head towards him and you grin.

“Iwa, you’re sweaty and smell bad” You snicker, returning back to your work. But you didn’t move away, Hajime did. You glance towards him once more as he gets up and walks away, his stomach doing flips and turns mumbling a small “shit” under his breath. Only if you knew.

And it might be pathetic

and you might be skeptical

but I just want to be with you

“Are you okay Iwa-chan?” Oikawa laughed at his ace, only to get hit by a volleyball, it made you laugh. Hajime wondered if that laugh was for him.

Please tell me girl, could you get a clue? Or come through cause I just want to be with you

.

I’m scared of telling you how I feel

It was the day before finals when Hajime realized how scary it could be to love someone. How scary it is to love you.

You were giving the team a speech, mentally preparing them for the next day. You gathered them in a circle, Hanamaki on your left, Hajime on your right, and Oikawa next to Hajime.

“Okay, everyone. It’s been a good year for us! I want to let each and everyone of you know how proud of you guys I am. You guys are the best team I have the privilege of managing. It’s definitely not easy to do. You know those crazy Oikawa fans I have to deal with, or to set up practice games with other schools, but I will never regret a single bit of any of it. You all are my boys, and I love you all very so much. Even if it means I have to deal with your crazy shit you guys pull, I would do it forever. So let’s win nationals! Let’s go out with a bang!” You yelled putting your hand in the middle, the rest of the team followed suit shouting cheers. Hajime placed his hands on top of yours, looked at you, your eyes finally sparkled. Maybe he shouldn’t be so scared. Loving was a beautiful thing.

.

After the speech you all went to your family’s shop to get some dinner, a small ritual you would do after practices and sometimes games. Everyone left one by one till it was only Hajime, Oikawa and you. The three of you walked out, under the stars. The boys decided to walk you home, because who knew when the next time you guys had a night out after volleyball practice would be. You all fell under a comfortable silence, you walked in front of the boys.

“Are you guys excited?” You spoke softly, turning around to face the captain and ace. Hajime could see the air come out of your lips due to the cold night.

“Of course y/n-chan” Oikawa smiled at you softly, taking your hands and playing with your fingers, it was a habit for you both to be affectionate, but this was different. It made Hajime’s heart hurt.

“What about you Iwa-chan? Are you excited to beat everyone?” He asked quietly, smiling at Hajime who has now stopped walking.

No. Not like this. I was going to tell you, why couldn’t this wait? Why now? They’re just friends, right? Millions of cruel thoughts raced in his mind, mixed emotions hitting him left,right,up,down but the worst was yet to come. Anger and sadness fueled him now.

“Haji?”... He didn’t respond to you, it was almost like he was looking past you. He was clenching his fist so hard, his knuckles were turning white.

“Hajime? Are you okay?” The concern in your voice is evident. Hajime knew he shouldn’t feel upset, he knew that. But how could he feel when two people he cares for the most are together? It’s not confirmed but anyone a mile away could tell without a second glance what's happening between the setter and manager. He shouldn’t want to punch Oikawa as much as he wants to right now. He didn’t know the feelings he felt towards y/n, so why must Hajime feel like he is the one at fault?

“I’m going home, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Sleep well.” Hajime turned the corner, the yellow lights of the building escaping his vision. If he were to stay any longer, who knows what he would have done, scream his anger away? Punch his feelings out? Or should he just take it out on the volleyball at his house? He drowned out the calls of Y/n and Oikawa.

Maybe it’s better if I just try to conceal the truth,

for me and for you

“Tooru, is Haji okay?” Your eyes widen at the sudden disappearance of your close friend.

“It’s okay love, maybe he had to do something?” Oikawa would be lying if he said he knew what was wrong, I mean who would’ve guessed that the short-tempered ace would ever fall in love with the soft spoken manager of the team?

“Oh, I’ll text him when I get home. Would you like to maybe watch a movie or do you think you’ll be too tired?” you replied, trying to get your mind off of the situation. Oikawa takes your hand fully, bringing it up to his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat.

“One movie should be fine y/n-chan” He smiled, one more before leaning in close to you, closing the small space and taking your lips between his. You smiled grasping his hand and sliding your fingers between his. Little did the both of you know, Hajime stayed at the corner of the building, watching, trying to deny his suspicions. He begged and prayed to be wrong, and in the end he was right. At least he got to see your eyes sparkle one last time, even if they were never meant for him.

I’m still falling for you

[kerwritesthings]

27, 54 :)

I wasn’t going to post this today. Last story I posted yesterday I’m still trying to push on since it’s still hanging out there in the wind & wasn’t feeling too motivated after that. But I had a really bad fuck of a moment at the end of the day and then this adorable bean decided to insta story pretty much at the same time. So, et voila we’re going with it.

This took a TURN, dear anon. I know it’s soft & fluffy prompts, and we’ll get to it. There’s a bit up at the front, it’s just a little bit of a journey to get to it at the end. I also didn’t expect this to be almost 2.8k. Ooopsies?

Prompts: “You have me to protect you, always.” AND “I will protect you with my life.”

Being on tour with Shawn is one thing. Being on tour with Shawn overseas though is another. It’s always an experience, but for this run it’s especially more than it’s ever been before. You’ve yet to experience a swing outside Canada, the States and Europe. With the last album already exceeding expectations and touring blowing up across the board, the tour went wider and longer than he’s ever done before. Which means in some cities, it’s multiple dates and even more so, graduating to stadiums.

“Excuse me what?!” you yell, looking at the “tickets” he’s placed in your hand. The sentimental fluff he is, had mockup concert tickets made to give you when he told you about Tokyo.

“Me, you, Japan. Gyoza, ramen, carousel sushi, mochi, bubble tea, and yeah playing what they’re telling me should be a sold-out Tokyo Dome,” he replies with a coy smile.

“Holy shit Shawn,” you exclaim as you tackle hug him. “That’s like what 50,000 plus? Sweetie, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

It was months away, but you both take to sending each other links to places you’d want to try, or photos of what Tokyo looks like in the spring. You specifically asking for photos of the two of you wandering through the cherry blossoms. You were meeting him there this go. He’s coming into town off the Australia and southeast Asian swing, with Tokyo being the final show to wrap things up before a break. And it wasn’t one show, he sold out two. There was still Latin and South America, but that was after the holidays and nothing to worry about yet.

The energy in the Dome is intense, electric and nothing like you have experienced at any of his shows before. Everything was a glow, every single one of the fans in the seats singing along. You head side stage to where you’ve grown to watching most shows you’re on the road for. 

“Something else, eh?” Cez asks loudly to get over the crowd, throwing an arm around your shoulders and drawing you into his side.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat. You’re fighting back being this emotional, but this is unbelievable and that Rockstar up on stage? You get to call him yours.

Cez squeezes you tighter, “I know kiddo, I know. I still get that way even after being with him for this long. Come on, let’s go to the pit for the run.”

You follow, making sure your earplugs are securely in place. The roar is going to be deafening when he hits the straightaway. What you didn’t expect was for him to stop at the end, snag you around the waist, twirl you with a kiss before his usual heading back up for the rest of the finale.

“That’s so going to end up on Tumblr,” you scream at him as he sets you down, and you spy Connor laughing from behind the camera. He caught it all.

“Good, gifs abound showing how much I fucking love you,” he yells back, kissing you one more time before dashing back up to stage.

It takes forever to get through the folks who needed to say hello after the show, you saw him starting to wane after the third massive group that was being ushered into the green room. You caught Cez’s eye, nodding over towards Shawn.

He mouths on it to you and bless him, makes the group filter through quickly. As soon as they’re gone and the door is closing behind them, he collapses on the couch pulling you down next to him, head tipping into your shoulder.

“Hey Rockstar,” you whisper, kissing his temple.

“Mmmm, hi baby. Thank you for being here for here. Means everything,” he sighs, cuddling down into you.

“Always. It’s me and you versus the world, right? Hasn’t changed. Won’t change,” you reply, pressing a longer lingering kiss to his skin. “Go shower. Go change. I’ll even wait in your room for you. Then we’ll head back. Me, you, room service and that pretty piece of silk we found at the night market.”

“Yes please,” he murmurs, kissing you slowly, sweetly like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

“Off with you,” you nudge him up and push him towards the door. His hand reaches for yours immediately, lacing his fingers in tightly with yours.

Finally, when he is done and his team has been told that things have seem to be a bit calmer outside, you start to make your way towards the sprinter van.

“I need you two to hold on to each other, and to me if you can. More importantly to stay close to us,” Jake explains seriously pointing between him and Big Eddie, who was here in Tokyo for the last few days with the team. “We have to do a straight shot to the car. Still too many folks to stop kid, I’m sorry but I can’t risk it. Not with the missus with you.”

You’re not even engaged yet, but since moment one of meeting Jake, he’s taken to calling you the missus. You both nod, Shawn taking a hold of your hand tightly. “I got you,” he whispers.

It’s a crowd like you’ve ever seen post-show before. It’s seas of people on both sides of the barricades. The roar comes once they see him. It’s a swell.

“Fuck, this is not what calm should look like,” Jake mutters. “We’re running. Go go go.”

You tighten your grip on his hand. Jake’s in front, a hold on Shawn, then you with Eddie’s one hand on your shoulder. You somehow hear the metal clatter to the ground and the plastic cracking before you see the people start spilling over and reaching for all of you.

“Shit,” you hear, not sure who it was from, but you’re being pushed forward. The jostling makes you lose your grip on Shawn’s hand first, then the next thing you know people are getting their way in between you and you don’t feel Eddie at your back any longer. You try not to panic, but it’s a sea of complete strangers. You think about calling out for Jake or Eddie. Names that would stand out in the sea of fans’ clamoring. It’s not worth it to even try calling out for Shawn, the crowd is boisterous and already chanting his name. It only takes a few moments before someone realizes who you are. You think about pulling out your phone, but you know it would be a lost cause. You just need to try to keep pushing your way forward. You start to get pulled at, pushed back and forth and it’s hard at this point to not start tearing up. You keep trying to move towards what you think is the direction you were going in in the first place.

At the same time, Shawn is losing his shit inside the van.

“Jake, I don’t fucking care about my own damn safety right now, she’s out there in this shitstorm, and out there in this shitstorm alone,” he yells. “Let me out of here, I need to find her. I told her I had her, Jake. Fuck, I need to get to her.”

“Kid I get it, but you’re not going out there. We’ve got the whole damn team and some of the arena folks weeding through the crowd to get to her,” Jake tries to state calmly. “I can’t let you out there. Hell, I can’t leave you alone in here to go find her myself. You know that’s not safe.”

“Not good enough, if she’s not back in 5, hell in 2. I don’t care Jake; I’ll pop out the damn sunroof if I have to,” he replies, pulling at his hair. “If I promise not to move, stay here, will you go out there? Jake please, I trust you. She trusts you. I just, I can’t just sit here and not do everything I can for her.”

Jake wipes his face with his hand, “You don’t move a muscle you hear me? I’m locking you in the damn car to boot, so no climbing and going through the roof like you threatened.”

“Yes, I promise,” he nods, his eyes still wild from the adrenaline. “Jake, please just find her.”

Jake quickly slides the door open to duck out, locking it behind him.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, maybe 4 or 5 minutes since Jake left, but it’s feeling like a lifetime. He keeps checking his phone, but he knows there’s no way if you’re lost in this that it’s not worth it to pull out your phone. There are three quick heavy knocks on the van door that has him shifting back against the opposite side. He’s not sure what’s going on. The driver’s side door opens first with the driver shifting into the seat, then Eddie opens the sliding door letting Jake in with you in his arms before slamming it shut behind him.

“Ok time to get gone,” Jake says to the driver as he slides you into Shawn’s hold. “She’s ok, shaken up for sure, rattled and she probably won’t be wearing that shirt again. She said no one went after her, couple folks started tugging a bit harder than normal once they figured out who she was.  But nothing bruised, broken or cut from what I can see or what she said. Was a good thing she threw her hair up after the show. I spotted that pineapple bun of hers in the sea of people. Got to her quickly after that.”

“Baby,” he says pulling you into him tightly, burying his face into your hair at first, then your neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m here now, I’m right here.”

You’re shaking, cold from the crash of emotions, adrenaline dissipating. You can’t help but start sniffing and holding onto him snugly, wrapping around him like a vine. He was warm and comfort and love, all you really want or need at the moment.

“Call Cez and Andrew, anything that was planned or thought about for the next couple days before we go back to Toronto that has anything to do with work is off the table. That’s not up for debate,” his voice hard. “This also cannot happen again. Ever. That was utter bullshit. They had nothing under control, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to take. This is my family and I’m not having it. I’ll call Louis myself if I have to, this…”

He trails off, the crash starting to hit on his side and the tears start to slowly fall.

“I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you sweetheart, I’m not going to let something like that ever happen again,” he bites out, trying not to cry harder. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. You’re my everything, you know that yeah? You have me to protect you, always. I will protect you with my life.”

“He tried to fight me to get to you,” Jake chimes in quietly as the van speeds its way back to the hotel. “I just couldn’t let him. But this boy, he was ready to take me if he had to. He’d lay it out and down for you. I’m sorry too, missus. This shouldn’t have been the way this went down. We’ll make sure of it. You’re as much as my responsibility as this kid is, and…”

“’S not your fault,” you croak out, still leaning heavily into Shawn. “Any of you. Crowd control means different things everywhere, especially at a venue that size, and who knew the barricades were going to snap and break. It’s not ok that they basically lied to the team though, that’s what I’m angry about. I’m ok though, shaky and in desperate need of a shower and some sleep, but not broken, not cracked. Maybe just a little worse for wear.”

Shawn wraps you up tighter, “Whatever you need tonight, baby.”

Once you’re back in the hotel, Jake safely deposits the both of you into Shawn’s room. It’s dark and quiet and you just stand in the bedroom holding each other there for a few minutes.

“Shower with me?” you ask, shifting yourself against him tightly again. “Please?”

“Let me call down for some tea first? You go get the water warm,” he whispers against the top of your head.

“Hot chocolate? With Baileys and marshmallows?” you volley back, a half smile trying to creep up your lips.

“Of course, whatever’s gonna make you feel better tonight,” he squeezes you again, before nudging you towards the bathroom. “I’ll let you steal my Leafs shirt too.”

You finally exhale fully once you’re in the bathroom. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath that long. Or at least that’s what it was feeling like. Setting the shower a little warmer than normal, you quickly strip everything off, tossing it into the corner to deal with later. Stepping under the rainfall showerhead, you start to feel everything just sliding away, tension, the dirt, your fears. Quickly you start to wash off head to toe. You didn’t realize you had started to cry until you heard his feet splash the water against the tile behind you.

“Baby,” he half sighs half cries out, before sliding under the water to press you against him. “Let it go, let it all out. Go head, I’m here. You’re safe, pretty girl. it’s just you and me.”

You feel him start to let his emotions out as well, shaky breaths giving him away. You both stay like that, fusing together until the water starts to cool, but it’s worth it for the feeling a little semblance of getting yourself back together. Both of you.

“Let’s go get into bed with your boozy cocoa yeah?” he asks, lips against your forehead.

As he bundles you up in a towel, you realize for the first time he’s yet to kiss you kiss you since everything. You’re not sure if it’s a conscious decision, part of you thinks it is. You watch him for a moment as he towels off his hair, another balancing precariously low on his hips. He catches you, his lips trying to quirk up into a smile but it’s not quite there. He beckons you closer and you go without question.

He takes a fresh towel to blot at your hair, carefully sopping as much of the moisture away as he could.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask carefully. “You realize you haven’t really kissed me since before we walked out of the venue earlier? Not like you, baby.”

He lays the towel he was using for your hair across your shoulders, flipping the damp tresses out from underneath it. He looks intently at you for a moment before his right palm comes up to cup your cheek, thumb carefully swiping back and forth across your skin. “I couldn’t, I just…” he started before his breath caught for a minute. “I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you weren’t here with me.”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” you say, pressing a finger across his lips. “Accidents happen. They suck. Yes, and this one, it was scary and all that shit, but it’s done. It’s over. Can you please kiss me now? Please Shawn?”

He kisses the pad of your finger, his other hand coming up to rest against your other cheek. He draws you in closer, tilting his forehead down to rest against yours. He starts slowly, softly. A whisper of a kiss across your lips, almost so light you don’t feel it at first. Then a stronger of a press before pulling away, nuzzling your nose with his. “I love you,” he whispers before letting go and really kissing you. It’s bruising, deep and wet; his tongue relentless. He’s letting everything he’s felt through this all out in this kiss. When he pulls away, you sling your arms around his waist to hold him. You head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat in your ears.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you remind him, pressing your lips against his chest. “Sweetheart, I’m here. I’m ok. We’ll take care of the logistical clusterfuck tomorrow. But for now, what I’d like? Since you said anything I need tonight. I want, I need you to love me Shawn. That’s all I’ll ever want from you, is your love.”

[legolaslovely]

Surprises

A/N: Happy Fili Friday! I immensely enjoyed righting this. I hope you guys enjoy. For @patchworkideas Thank you for everything! <3 

Pairing: FiKi

Word Count: 6,100

Warnings/Tags: Modern AU, Cop!Fili, Artist!Kili, they are not related, angst, comfort, non explicit smut, fluff! 

Summary: For most of his life, Fíli didn’t like surprises and did his best to avoid them. Then he met someone who taught him to savor both giving and receiving anything unexpected.

Fíli never liked surprises. It’s not that he couldn’t handle any unexpected thing that was thrown at him with tact, it was just that he never enjoyed spectacles or too much effort or attention. His coworkers down at the station learned that about him the hard way when, after painstakingly planning and decorating a lovely surprise party for their newest and most dependable recruit, the birthday boy himself didn’t even show up for the celebration. It wasn’t until the next day they all learned Fíli had taken the day off from work to fish at the lake where the only birthday phone call he answered with more than a text was the one from his mother. 

For most of his life, Fíli didn’t like surprises and did his best to avoid them. Then he met someone who taught him to savor both giving and receiving anything unexpected.

***

September

Was he really this predictable? Fíli sat on his usual stool that was left open for him in the busy bar. Already there waiting for him was a cooled glass of the same lager he always ordered. He clearly had to change up his routine. After he drank his beer.

He took a sip, licked the foam from his mustache and as he went to set it on the ring already sunk into the coaster, his arm was jostled. The man who caused a splash quickly apologized.

“S’okay,” Fíli said.

It took him less than a minute to size the stranger up. Six feet, mid-twenties, broad shoulders, though not as broad as his own. The man waved to the bartender, lean yet strong muscle leaving a thick shadow over the bar. He was fit, probably a runner. Not a weightlifter like Fíli, who was in the gym every morning before his shift despite his hatred of getting out of bed any time before 10am. 

"Can I just get a...” the man trailed off as the bartender walked by, not even stopping to glance at the stranger in his bar. The man gave his head an entertained shake, freeing a stray curl that bounced over the center of his forehead, just above wide winged brows that were as dark as his eyes. Eyes that Fíli had barely gotten a glimpse of until they landed on him. They were glittering and not just with the old lights above the bar.

“Busy in here,” he said, running a hand through his hair that did nothing to restrain the leaping lock.

“Bartender takes care of his regulars first,” Fíli said with a shrug.

“Ah. Now that you say it, I think I read that in the handbook somewhere.”

He’s funny. Fíli shifted in his seat, turning to the side. Someone in this bar should welcome the stranger, why not him? Wasn’t it his duty? “Let me buy you a drink? I might have better luck with the bartender.”

Those dark brows shot up, uncovering a brighter, fresh looking face that had Fíli rethinking his age estimate. “Yeah. Sure,” the man said. He pointed over his shoulder. “I’m driving tonight so I’m just drinking soda. Uh, a Coke?”

“You’re a good friend,” Fíli said, hint of a smile peeking through his thick beard that he hoped hadn’t been soaked in beer foam. 

He pulled his eyes from the man and yelled for the bartender. “Dwalin! Can I get a Coke?”

“With what in it?” Dwalin yelled.

The stranger laughed, a higher pitch than Fíli thought would come out of him, but it was heart gripping all the same. “Uh, Ice?”

When the glass landed on the bar, Dwalin asked Fíli if he wanted another beer but Fíli shook his head.

“Why not? You’re off duty aren’t ya?”

“Of course I am,” Fíli said.

“Then I’ll getcha another.”

“No, no. Here,” he said, digging cash out of his wallet. 

Dwalin scooted away and snapped the towel from over his shoulder at Fíli’s hand. “Nah! Nah, nah. Save it, kid. On the house.”

Fíli slid the soda to the man by his side and waited until Dwalin was busy with another customer before shoving a twenty into the tip jar. 

“Thanks for the drink,” the man said .

“Fíli.”

“Yeah?” He scoffed. “Small world. My friends call me Kíli.”

The crowd seemed to settle and Dwalin’s Saturday night playlist easily descended to true background music as they talked, trading stories and small pieces of personal information. There was no prodding involved, it was just comfortable. Fíli couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a person’s presence more.

Kíli asked “off duty from what?” which launched the conversation of their individual careers. Fíli was waiting for the side eyed look he usually received when he let it out that he was a cop, but Kíli only smiled. He thanked him for his service. Fíli almost fell off his stool.

Kíli was an artist. When he mentioned he’d taught six classes at the college that day, Fíli stood, insisting Kíli take his chair. Only then had he noticed how crowded the bar had grown.

“No, please,” Kíli said. “I don’t want to take your seat.”

“You’re not taking anything. Sit.” But Fíli backtracked, leaving an escape path wide open. “If you want. Don’t let me keep you from your friends.” 

But Kíli sat. “I’m fine here.”

Even sitting, he was big. Fíli was not the kind to shrink from anyone or anything, but next to Kíli, his confidence and airs (an occupational hazard and necessity) deflated. Every coherent thought melted and simmered to god, he’s pretty. No one had ever affected Fíli this way and each time he straightened his shoulders or shifted on his feet and tried to expand, Kíli would smile and Fíli decided that maybe it was all right to be affected.

Kíli was chatty in an endearing and engaging manner. He had walked into the bar a stranger and now Fíli knew him better than some of the cops he’d met ten years ago. Kíli had recently moved from across the country. He had graduated from the college and fallen in love with the town, so when his parents passed away a few months ago, as a single child, he sold the house and moved back to his second home as he always wanted to. In an old but cozy house this time, instead of a dingy dorm. He started teaching painting lessons and in no time was hired as a professor in the arts department of the college. Dreams fulfilled.

He had an artist's hands. Thin but strong, calloused around the fingertips from brushes and tools and pencils. The veins and tendons popped as his hands waved, never sitting still as he spoke. He was mesmerizing, a moving painting that changed colors and concentrations as the night passed, customers left, and last call was announced. 

Someone behind them hollered Kíli’s name, but it was followed by shushing and giggling. Fíli turned around to see a tall red haired woman whispering loudly for all to hear. 

“He’s at the bar! Leave him alone, he’s with that hot guy.”

One of Kíli’s kinetic hands finally stilled over his eyes, rubbing his furrowed, unbelieving brow. Fíli knew his own cheeks were turning red, but he couldn’t give it another thought as Kíli looked up and grinned at him.

It was a thing of beauty really, reaching his eyes, smooshing them into glowing little slits with round cheeks and a heart shaped chin that curved his lips into the sweetest, smallest triangle.

“My friends...”

“Are having fun,” Fíli said. He sighed. The night had gone quicker than he’d wanted it to. “Will I see you here again?”

Kíli hopped off the stool. “Take my number and you can be sure of it.”

He watched Kíli type into his phone. Fíli had rules. He never kissed on a first date, he never kissed at the bar his boss frequented, he barely kissed in public at all, but this man made him want to change every rule he knew. Even the laws of gravity seemed to be changing because when Kíli gave his phone back and his hand lingered there, Fíli was sure he was floating. He wanted to kiss this man so badly his chest swelled with it, his mind swam in it, his fingers tingled with it, and then the decision was taken out of his hands. 

Kíli kissed his cheek. Just beside his lips. It was quick and unexpected but Fíli’s skin burned with Kíli’s touch long after he’d winked, said goodbye, and led his friends out of the bar. 

***

October

To say that Kíli was excited was an understatement. He was buzzing, trembling, vibrating in anticipation of Fíli’s arrival. He had only been in town for a little over a month when he met Fíli in Dwalin’s bar and it had taken longer than expected for Kíli to unpack from the big move and make his apartment suitable for visitors. Fíli often said, “I don’t care if it’s messy, I want to see your place,” with a very persuading kiss, but Kíli wanted everything to be perfect the first time Fíli came over for dinner.

Which is why Kíli had spent a good chunk of his week and paycheck preparing for this meal. Coaxing Fíli’s favorite recipes out of him- something that should have been sweet and easy and fun, turned into what Kíli imagined yanking hundred year old tree roots from winter turf would be like. And though he welcomed the chance to search through cookbooks and shop for the ripest, most delicious ingredients at the various markets, it all took time. But Kíli didn’t mind. This was important to him and he truly enjoyed pampering Fíli. The man wasn’t spoiled very often.

Kíli was sitting on the floor, staring into the clear oven window when his phone rang. 

“Fíli, it’s five of seven and I know you don’t talk on the phone while you’re driving which means you’re either on my doorstep or you haven’t left yet and it better be the former because if you’re late I will drink this entire bottle of wine without you.”

“I’m on my way, Kíli. I’m sorry, work... work held me up a bit. I’m getting in the car now. Do you need anything else from the store? Want me to stop for anything?”

“If you stop somewhere I’m going to drink both of these bottles by myself.”

“That would be entertaining.”

“Fíli.”

“I’m on my way. Ten minutes.”

Kíli slid his phone onto the counter and stirred the bubbling sauce, tasting it one more time to make sure it was perfect. He gathered a pinch of salt, held it over the pot, then flicked it all into the sink, unused.

“It’s fine,” he said to himself. “It’s fine.”

He heard the rumble of Fíli’s car a few minutes later and pulled the top few buttons of his favorite shirt open. Fíli would never say it out loud, but Kíli knew the black curls that traveled up his neck from his chest drove the man wild. Kíli decided Fíli deserved a little shameless torture and distraction for making him wait an extra eight minutes.

The doorbell rang as he was twisting a corkscrew into the first bottle of Merlot. “It’s open!” he yelled.

It didn’t take long for arms to wrap around his waist and a grumbling to sound in his ear. “Stop leaving your door unlocked,” Fíli growled.

“Yes sir,” Kíli said in time with the pop of the cork.

“Something smells good.”

“Wait until you taste it,” Kíli said. “I ate so much of this as I cooked it- for tasting reasons- and honestly, I don’t even think there’s enough here for you.” He turned around in Fíli’s arms and almost dropped the full glass in his hands. “Fíli.”

Fíli took the wine out of Kíli’s hand and put it on the counter out of reach. He let Kíli stare.

The bruise around his eye reached up over his brow and down to his cheekbone. It seemed to grow darker by the moment, as if every wince of pain and pity turned his blood black. One soft, blue, undeserving iris was surrounded by red clouds.

“What happened?”

“I’m all right. I got called in for a domestic and I took a hit while cuffing the guy.”

Kíli didn’t speak, only stared while his grip on Fíli tightened.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I had to do some paperwork.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Only then did Kíli realize Fíli was still in his uniform. He’d seen the dark blue before, cinching and gaping in all the right places, suiting Fíli beyond measure, but now Kíli despised every inch of it. 

“I’ll grab something for you to wear-”

“I brought clothes,” Fíli said. “I’ll go change.”

Kíli released him hesitantly. “First door on the right.” He clicked off the burners and the oven and shoved the cork back into the wine bottle. Instead, he carried two glasses of bourbon to the couch he’d brought from his parents’ house. Ice cubes clicked together as he laid the packed towel on the small table and sat, sinking into the well used cushion and resting his arm over the back of the couch. 

He chuckled when Fíli came down the hall in his dress shirt and pants. “I thought you were going to change into something more comfortable.”

“What, am I getting too handsome for you?” Fíli asked, smirk only reaching one side of his face.

“It’s close.”

Fíli made a show of unbuttoning the top of his shirt. 

“Getting closer,” Kíli said.

When Fíli sat, he scooted down into the couch until the old thing almost ate him whole. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see Kíli watching him, but he could feel it. He sensed the routine emotions, the ones that come when you’re dating an officer. Constant concern that, like Kíli’s watercolors, mixed with splashes of ire and exasperation. Wonder was the crucial canvas that held it all together while remaining steady in the background. What went on in those squad cars? Would he always be safe? Always come home? Would Kíli want to stick around, stay in this budding relationship long enough to find out?

He jumped when he blindly felt Kíli’s fingers running through the ends of his hair. The towel had grown heavy and sopping from the melted ice and Kíli took it from him.

“Have I told you how great this apartment is?” Fíli asked, tilting his head to look at Kíli.

“No.” Kíli said, giving his best frown. “You came in, used my bathroom and ruined my best towel.”

Fíli laughed, soft, deep, and rumbling. Comforting. But it was brief. “Don’t forget I also ruined your dinner, our night, and everything we’ve been looking forward to.”

“Nonsense.”

“Kíli, I’m so sorry.”

Kíli scooted closer. “Don’t apologize.” He leaned down and kissed Fíli’s temple, caressing the sore spot with soft, warm lips that seemed to have their own healing powers. When he drew away, Fíli was watching him.

“You always surprise me,” he said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Kíli who buried his face into the crook of Fíli’s neck. 

“I’m sick of being surprised,” he murmured against Fíli’s skin.

***

November

Kíli’s hand found Fíli’s as he drove home from the restaurant. The dinner had been nice- glowing candles, red wine, snobby yet over-polite waiters and dainty portions. It was clear they were both a bit out of their element in the dark, very quiet dining room. Even Kíli seemed a bit shy, but slowly, his small smiles lit their corner of the room- a beacon for Fíli to fuel and admire.

Though their meal together had been enjoyable, it was the farthest thing from Fíli’s mind as Kíli’s fingers intertwined in his. Practiced digits danced, looped, caressed, tickled, until his first finger broke loose and slid up the inside of Fíli’s thigh. Kíli’s focus remained on the road, but the very corner of his lips tweaked upwards. Soft and ever pink, surrounded by a scratch of permanent black stubble, pulled and bent, letting Fíli know their minds were on the same subject. 

They’d been dating a few weeks now. They’d talked and planned, then those plans were ruined when Fíli took a black eye at work. It was the new arrangement that led to this night. Their night. Which is why Fíli held Kíli’s hand- every finger- far away from any part of his leg. His breath had already grown quick and heavy and he refused to ruin their plans once again by losing control and fucking Kíli right there in the front seat of his own car. He took a deep breath that broke and shook halfway through and rolled a thumb over Kíli’s knuckles, forcing himself to think of something else as they managed to stop at every single red light in the entire damn town. Kíli only chuckled. 

Fíli was a patient gentleman as he followed Kíli to the door and they stepped inside. However, he would never know if Kíli had planned nightcaps or coffee because as soon as the front door was locked behind them, Fíli kissed him. His fingers dove through black hair, circled the nape of Kíli’s neck, down his chest, around his waist and into his back pockets. Kíli moaned in his mouth and that was it.

He picked Kíli up and swallowed the deep growl it caused. (He’d think more about that later and revel in the fact that Kíli liked to be manhandled by him.) Kíli wrapped his limbs close around Fíli, coiling like a serpent, as if he couldn’t get close enough. As if he were trying to climb under Fíli’s own skin to share the same blood rushing heartbeat. In turn, Fíli clawed at him and balled the evil, offending shirt- the layer between them- into his fists, sucking in a sharp breath as Kíli’s already hard erection ground into his.

After mumbled directions, elbow slams and palm slaps against the walls, Fíli found the bedroom. Next step: the lamp. Fíli wanted to see. Every line, every crevice, every hair, smile, lip bite- everything that was finally allowed to be his, he wanted it. He was greedy. 

He laid Kíli on the bed, hovered over him, tore off his shirt, kissed, nipped, and traveled down the warm, gorgeous body below him. He lost himself in the swirling southern wind of desire, couldn’t cherish each precious moment as he’d dreamed of doing. It was all too fast but he rode the storm, unable to stop until he could feel and hear and see everything.

It was only Kíli’s gasped “Wait!” that had him sitting back on his knees thinking Please, please don’t change your mind about us. Please don’t ask me to leave. Please-

But his thoughts stopped completely as Kíli sat in his lap and held his face. “I want this to last,” he said. He smiled and Fíli was sure it was brighter than any light he’d seen. Kíli went on. “I’m excited too- more excited than I’ve ever been. I want to touch you and pleasure you.” Hands fell down Fíli’s chest and up his thighs. “But I want to take my time about it.”

In all the nights spent imagining sharing Kíli’s bed, Fili hadn’t ever thought of going slow. He could hear Kíli whining and screaming his name, begging for more and harder. He saw strangled bed sheets tear and felt nails leaving divots in his back as reminders of uncontrolled passion. Slow never crossed his mind, but now that it did, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

Kíli only smiled and kissed him. Slowly. Deeply. Pouring every ounce of devotion and admiration into Fíli’s body and mind with tender touch, soft lips, and warm caresses of his tongue.

“We do have all night, don’t we?” Fíli asked.

Kíli hummed against his lips. 

So they took their time. Each charted every breath, discovered tender corners, mapped wide plains and lapped at warm waters. They took all night and long into the morning before finally falling asleep after a well deserved breakfast of Fíli’s apparently famous pancakes. 

As Kíli curled into his arms and fell asleep against him, Fíli wondered if he had ever felt as loved as he did by Kíli. Kíli had watched him, eyes forever open, no matter what Fíli did. Kíli treasured every inch of his body, took him to soaring heights that left him trembling in long lean arms and reaching for soft, short kisses that never lacked emotion or affection. Had Fíli ever snorted with laughter while inside someone? Definitely not. But he wanted to do it again with Kíli. Always with Kíli.

***

April

It didn’t take long for Fíli to learn how much Kíli loved the unexpected. Their second date was Fíli’s plan and as soon as he casually said the location of their night was a surprise, Kíli erupted like pecans in a food processor. His wide eyes shone in the headlights from across the street as they took note of every street sign. Despite his best intentions, he asked nosy questions like “How long will it take to get there?” and “Will I need my jacket? Are we even going inside?” and when Fíli played the game and said, “I’m not telling you,” Kíli only grinned as if that in itself was a hint. That amount of fidgeting and finger tapping and ankle crossing may have been annoying to anyone else, but Fíli found it extremely endearing. And on the drive home, Fíli was already thinking of other things that would exercise Kíli’s excitement and curiosity.

This surprise, however, was a big one. It was a big step, a big decision. But the best part about it, the part that made Fíli push ahead with this plan in the first place, was that Kíli was completely unsuspecting. Completely.

“Isn’t your spring break coming up next month?” Fíli asked late one morning after pouring his third cup of coffee. “Do you have any plans?”

Kíli hummed while he thought. “Nnnno. Not really. I was going to clean up some paintings and frame them for the collection at the college at the end of the semester.”

“Landscapes?”

“Some of them,” Kíli said, distracted, not seeing Fíli’s point. 

“How would you feel about adding some beach landscapes to your selection?”

A slow, but wide grin- wider than any horizon Kíli had ever painted- stretched over his face. “I could do that.”

“Good.” Fíli turned, clicking off the coffee pot and pulling the mug to his lips to hide his smile. He wasn’t at all shocked when he felt Kíli’s arms wrap around his waist, as comfortable and snug as an old sweatshirt.

“Wouldn’t you rather a cabin in the woods?” Kíli asked, running his cool nose up the crook of Fíli’s shoulder to his ear. It was well mapped territory. “I could also paint landscapes of the lake.”

“You love the beach.”

Kíli hummed and Fíli could feel his chest reverberating against his back. He leaned into it. 

“But you love the quiet,” Kíli said. “Cool nights under cozy blankets…. Crisp mornings watching the fog lift from the lake…” His hands were wandering.

“I also love the beach when you are wearing nothing but a very small swimsuit.”

“Then I’ll go buy an even smaller one,” Kíli said, pushing and pulling and grabbing all the right places because he loved his surprises that much.

The new swimsuit Kíli bought for their vacation was indeed smaller than any he had ever owned and Fíli couldn’t decide if he appreciated how the other beach goers admired what was his or if he hated the jealousy it brought out in him. Either way, Kíli basked in Fíli’s gaze always and he made sure any feelings of envy were washed away with the tide.

Kíli truly catered to Fíli’s needs while they were away, meaning the only time he wore a shirt was when some kind of dress code mandated it. They didn’t spend a lot of time in restaurants for that reason. Instead, they went to the store, sandals clapping against the tile floor and Kíli wrapped up in Fíli’s warmest but also saltiest sweatshirt, shopping for sandwich supplies and cheesy pretzels, iced teas and beer. 

After the first day, Fíli bought a beach umbrella the size of their car because he didn’t care if Kíli only tanned and never burned, he wanted to enjoy Kíli’s semi nakedness without worrying about his health. He’d also purchased an untold number of sunscreen bottles to empty and massage into Kíli’s skin multiple times a day. It was hard work rubbing the white out of a dark chest pelt, up over muscled shoulders, down a tapered  waist, around a furry belly, and down thick legs. It was a burden only Fíli could bear. Kíli felt well taken care of and made sure Fíli never noticed the cans of spray sunblock at the store.

Their third day on the coast, Kíli managed to drag Fíli from the bed and out to the beach for the sunrise. The early hour benefits outweighed Fíli’s grumbling: they escaped the crowds, the parking passes, and the heat, able to simply cherish each other’s company as they sat with their toes in the surf and their arms around one another. As the morning went on, sleepiness transferred from one man to the other and Fíli was able to get his revenge on his morning loving lover. He pulled Kíli through the sand, diving into the frigid high tide, giggling, splashing, and shoving until Kíli’s cold fingers stroked Fíli’s beard and pulled them face to face. That was the moment Fíli decided he loved Kíli’s salty kisses the best.

The sun flew across the sky that day and clocked out early like it too was on vacation. Tourists left and there were still a few hours before the night beachcombers would arrive. Similar to that morning, Fíli and Kíli had the beach to themselves and they used the public privacy to curl into each other under their now unneeded umbrella. 

Fíli rolled over top of his love. White specks of sand made Kíli’s curls even thicker and the salt water left the tresses heavy between Fíli’s fingers. A soft, content hum escaped the one beneath him and his heart swelled. He tried to tell Kíli how much he loved him. I want to share every moment of life with only you. You’ve enriched my life from the moment we met in that bar and I’ve been drunk on you ever since. You turned a lonely and alone man into someone loved and cherished and worth your time. You are so important, you are everything.

“I love you so much,” was all that came out.

Kíli’s thumb rolled over his cheek and tried to dislodge the clear line of tears that seemed stuck in blue eyes that matched the day lit sky. Fíli always welled up from toe to crown when he tried to tell Kíli how much he loved him.

“I know,” Kíli said. “I love you too, Fíli.”

***

August

Fíli drove too fast to Kíli’s apartment. He’d texted, he’d called, and yet he’d heard nothing from Kíli all day. Usually Kíli would shoot back messages fairly quickly, writing something on the spot to make Fíli smile or laugh or even blush and shift in his chair enough for his partner to ask who he was talking to. Kíli would always answer when Fíli called, picking up on the second or third ring no matter what he was doing in case Fíli needed him. Today, every line of communication went unanswered. 

When Fíli pulled in the driveway he could see the low light from the lamp in the front room through the curtains that Fíli had helped Kíli pick out last year. Other than that square of yellow, the rest of the house was dark. He took the chance that Kíli was still awake and though he had a key to the house, he knocked on the door.

He listened. No tv, no music, but soon footsteps. Kíli answered the door, half full glass in hand and waving around. 

“Oh. Hey.” He walked back into the house, leaving Fíli in the doorway.

“Hey. You didn’t answer your phone all day so I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He locked the door behind him, but Kíli was still standing in the middle of the room with his back to Fíli as if he wasn’t there.

Fíli was fit to burst. The words were on the tip of his tongue: Why haven’t you answered my calls? You couldn’t have even said ‘talk to you later, I’m busy?’ Do you know how worried I was? I thought something was wrong!

But as Fíli watched Kíli, unmoving, fingers hooked around the top of the glass, shoulders hunched like he’d never seen them, it was clear that something was wrong. 

Fíli’s hand found the small of Kíli’s back, the little divot made just for that purpose, and Kíli turned and blinked sluggish and heavy lidded eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “You want something to drink? S’on the counter,” he said, waving his glass and spilling a splash on the floor. “Shit.”

“I got it,” Fíli said. “You wanna sit?”

He watched Kíli fall into the oversized easy chair in the corner of the room. It rocked and creaked, not used to being sat in. Whenever Fíli was over, the two would pile on the couch so they could tangle their limbs and fill each other’s space and share everything. Now Kíli sat alone in the chair and nothing could be shared. 

Fíli wiped up the liquid that almost burned the inside of his nose and threw the towel on the small table. By then, Kíli had leaned forward onto his thighs, holding his head in his hands. 

“This is a new spot for you,” Fíli said, settling on his knees below Kíli on the floor.

A grin spread across Kíli’s face that pushed his eyes closed. “Not for you though.” He pulled Fíli’s hands to his thighs and leaned down to kiss him. The half empty bottle on the counter was enough to tell Fíli his boyfriend was sloshed, but it was the taste of him that let Fíli know it hadn’t been the first bottle opened. He could get tipsy himself from just kissing Kíli. 

A word made its way between them and disrupted their embrace.

“Mee-mm- need a new couch.”

Fíli glanced at the perfectly good piece of furniture he’d spent plenty of time in. “You think so?”

“It’s too old. Doesn’t match any of the other furniture.”

“I can take you shopping this weekend.”

At the mention of actually following through with his plan, Kíli turned to the offending couch with a threatening glare. The plush cushions sat pitifully like a dog saved from the shelter who had peed on the floor and chewed the bed while left alone.

“I’m just sorry I spent all that money driving it across the country.”

“It’s still in good condition,” Fíli said. “You could sell it and make the money back. College students are always looking for good sofas.”

Fíli would talk about this fucking couch until Kíli finally came out with what was really bothering him. He knew every one of Kíli’s emotions even better than his own, and right now, he knew just because Kíli had a cover over his passion, didn’t mean the fire wasn’t still raging underneath. Fíli knew he only had to wait. He watched the deep brown eyes he’d fallen in love with grow laser focused, staring without seeing.

A thick thumb dragging over a knee was what blew the cover off the inferno and added gas.

“I fucked up, Fíli. I fucked it all up. I shouldn’t have sold the house. What kind of person sells their parents’ house a month after they die? But I couldn’t look at it anymore and now I can’t go see it even if I wanted to because someone else lives there now! And all I brought with me were some photo albums and this fucking couch! I want it gone! I wanna fucking burn it but I look at it and half of me sees my family, watching movies and eating dinner and talking about me coming here to go to school and the other half of me sees you and all the time we’ve spent here.”

All of Kíli’s strength and energy flew out on his words and he slumped to the floor, falling into Fíli’s arms that were ready to catch him. Fíli pulled him into his lap. As his lover’s chest heaved and hiccuped and his hot tears slid down into the hollows of Fíli’s neck, Fíli let his own tears fall. His job was to protect people, most importantly, to protect Kíli. He thought he’d been doing well, but he couldn’t exactly keep grief in custody.

“And I don’t want to be a teacher!” Kíli pulled his face from the crook of Fíli’s neck, revealing his pink cheeks and swollen eyes. He rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “I don’t want to be a fucking professor, I want to paint. I don’t want to teach five classes a day and have office hours and be too exhausted to come home and make something for myself. I want to go to classes and be as inspired as my students are-” His breath caught in his chest as more tears flew down his face. Fíli caught them with his thumbs, swiping them away- blending and shading as Kíli taught him as if he could turn Kíli’s pain into something more beautiful and comforting. It didn’t work.

“You’ll call tomorrow,” Fíli said. “Reduce the number of classes you’re teaching, have fewer office hours. It’s still summer, you have time to make these changes before the new semester starts. Hey,” he whispered, making Kíli look at him. “We’re in this together. We’ll fix everything that needs to be fixed.”

Kíli relaxed in his arms. The drink had been washed from his eyes and they once again focused in on Fíli. “You are all I have. I want you to move in here. With me.”

Fíli thought of the key he just had the hardware store make. He thought of the dinner reservations for this weekend when he was going to ask Kíli to move in with him. 

“My dream was to move back here and paint. But even when I have the time for my art, there’s still something missing. It’s you. I want you here with me. All the time, I want you to move in.”

Fíli nodded, running his fingers through black curls. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

They did talk about it and Fíli found a guy from work who needed a place to stay and was glad to take over the remainder of Fíli’s lease. That weekend, he moved his stuff in, crowding his favorite books and old CDs into Kíli’s endless bookshelves, piling plates he’s had since college into the cabinets, figuring out which side of the closet belonged to whom and watching Kíli struggle to donate some of the shirts Fíli had never once seen him wear. When the bed was covered in boxes and bags, they made love on the floor, too impatient to move piles of clothes, but never too impatient to tease one another and make each other scream. Kíli said that the neighbors would have to get used to the more frequent noise.

Sunday afternoon, Fíli took Kíli furniture shopping, but they came back to their home empty handed. They weren’t able to find a couch that was as comfortable and perfectly worn in as the one they already had. No new sofa in the warehouse smelled of Kíli and the beer he’d spilled on his seventeenth birthday and the blanket Fíli brought from his apartment and the clean sweat that had managed to sink down deep into the cushion from many rounds of vigorous, furniture creaking, lube leaking sex. That was their couch and would be for a very long time.

***

After a year spent together, Kíli still surprised Fíli every day. Sometimes it was as small as making the perfect cup of coffee in the morning. But the one thing that never bewildered Fíli was how his ardent love for the painting stranger from the bar seemed to grow with every moment they shared together.

[tenderedsouls]

            * seo ji hye , cis woman + she / her | you know margot kang , right ? they're thirty , and they've lived in irving for like , their whole life off and on ? well , their spotify wrapped says they listened to malibu nights by lany like , a million times this year , which makes sense 'cause they've got that whole constantly running her fingers through her hair , haphazard piles of designer clothing cluttering her bedroom , and sipping honey sweetened green tea while enjoying a quiet morning thing going on . i just checked and their birthday is september 19th , so they're a virgo , which is unsurprising , all things considered .

001.  DOSSIER  .

             name  :  margot  kang  .  nicknames  :  none  .  date  of  birth  :  september  19th  ,  1990  .  zodiac  :  virgo  .  birthplace  :  irving  ,  north  carolina  (  raised  on  orion  avenue  )  .  orientation  :  bisexual  ,  biromantic  .  residence  :  irving  ,  north  carolina  (  port  apartments  )  .  height  :  170cm  (  5′7″  )  .  positives  :  captivating  ,  freethinking  ,  genuine  ,  polished  ,  and  self - reliant  .  neutral  :  moralistic  ,  whimsical  ,  sensual  ,  mellow  ,  and  ambitious  .  negative  :  compulsive  ,  devious  ,  argumentative  ,  shallow  ,  and  unreliable  .  likes  :  buying  new  clothes  ,  sleeping  in  ,  banana  muffins  ,  warm  blankets  ,  bubble  baths  with  lavender  ,  and  not  sleeping  in  pants  .  dislikes  :  authority  ,  being  lied  to  ,  long  meetings  ,  her  parents  ,  her  flightiness  ,  dry  hair  ,  candy  ,  and  interrupted  sleep  .  style  :  her  style  highly  consists  of  matching  pieces  ,  think  something  akin  to  cher’s  iconic  yellow  plaid  outfit  from  clueless  .  she  has  an  affinity  for  accessories  ,  but  especially  small  ones  like  hair  clips  ,  earrings  ,  bracelets  ,  and  necklaces  .  she  has  a  strange  hatred  for  jeans  and  sneakers  ,  and  thus  ,  she  will  never  be  seen  in  them  .  

002.  BACKSTORY  .

           growing  up  in  a  household  full  of  expectations  was  ,  by  margot’s  definition  ,  was  the  worst  existence  known  to  mankind  .  she  desired  to  do  what  ‘  normal  ’  children  would  do  ,  and  that  didn’t  include  church  and  excursions  as  if  it  were  a  right  of  passage  .  perhaps  it  was  ,  but  for  margot  ,  this  was  not  what  she  wanted  to  do  with  her  life  .  don’t  get  her  wrong  ,  though  ,  margot  didn’t  hate  church  .  if  anything  ,  she  didn’t  understand  why  she  was  expected  to  go  so  often  as  if  that  were  going  to  change  anything  .  she  did  well  in  school  ,  save  for  a  few  small  quizzes  that  would  catch  her  by  surprise  ,  and  she  played  a  sport  .  what  more  could  her  parents  have  wanted  from  her  ?  apparently  ,  they  expected  for  her  to  shoot  rainbows  out  of  her  ass  .

           of  course  ,  high  school  comes  around  and  like  most  teenage  girls  ,  margot  develops  crushes  .  her  first  boyfriend  is  nothing  but  a  puppy  love  scenario  ,  which  lasts  all  of  three  months  after  she  gets  mad  at  him  for  forgetting  her  cutie  pie’s  order  .  next  comes  a  string  of  boyfriends  that  aren’t  good  for  her  ,  nor  are  they  what  her  parents  would  have  liked  for  her  .  it’s  during  her  senior  year  that  margot  finds  herself  truly  falling  in  love  for  the  first  time  ,  and  it’s  also  what  will  become  the  worst  year  of  her  life  .  everything  about  their  relationship  was  built  on  wishes  .  they  would  wish  to  get  out  of  their  small  town  .  they  would  wish  for  more  time  in  the  days  to  be  together  .  

            the  bad  year  builds  .  first  it’s  arguments  with  her  parents  because  she  stayed  out  thirty  minutes  ,  an  hour  ,  two  hours  past  curfew  .  she  could  remember  slamming  her  bedroom  door  on  countless  nights  ,  and  texting  her  boyfriend  that  she  needed  to  leave  now  .  and  finally  ,  it  happens  one  friday  night  when  she  manages  to  sneak  clothes  in  her  sports  bag  and  finds  herself  on  the  road  out  of  irving  once  school  is  over  on  that  day  .  they  barely  make  it  three  hours  into  their  escape  ,  and  the  police  catch  up  with  them  .  margot  is  returned  home  so  fueled  with  anger  that  she  could  burst  ,  and  her  parents  scold  her  for  making  them  worry  like  that  .  their  strictness  tightens  on  her  then  ,  and  if  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  school  ,  then  she’s  barred  from  doing  so  .  for  the  rest  of  the  year  ,  margot  keeps  her  head  down  as  her  attempted  runaway  was  the  talk  of  the  town  ,  and  she  figures  that  it’s  best  for  her  to  aim  far  .

          by  far  ,  margot  means  leaving  irving  once  high  school  graduation  rolls  around  .  she  finds  herself  in  california  ,  attending  uc  berkeley  where  she  majors  in  marketing  .  the  distance  between  herself  and  her  parents  is  what  she  needs  as  she’s  finally  from  under  their  thumb  .  margot  excels  while  at  berkeley  ,  and  she  even  manages  to  find  love  again  .  she  welcomes  paloma  when  she  moves  to  los  angeles  as  well  ,  and  she  was  happy  to  reconnect  with  her  little  sister  again  .  it’s  a  could  of  years  after  her  college  graduation  that  margot  says  goodbye  to  paloma  once  more  when  her  boyfriend  is  transferred  to  london  .  their  long  term  relationship  turns  into  an  engagement  ,  but  margot  strangely  finds  herself  homesick  .  thus  ,  she  ends  the  engagement  ,  and  finds  herself  back  in  irving  .  

           currently  ,  margot  works  as  senior  marketing  manager  at  a  small  fashion  magazine  and  lives  in  port  apartments  .  it  wouldn’t  surprise  me  if  people  think  she  haunts  the  apartment  as  she  comes  and  goes  at  all  hours  and  doesn’t  really  talk  to  anyone  .  her  return  to  irving  had  been  done  quietly  ,  as  margot  has  placed  herself  in  a  self  imposed  exile  away  from  her  parents  ,  and  she  doesn’t  want  her  parents  to  know  that  she’s  in  irving  again  .  margot  has  the  itch  to  get  up  and  leave  at  all  times  ,  and  this  will  often  times  reflect  in  her  relationships  .

003.  PERSONALITY  .

           margot  ,  for  the  lack  of  better  words  ,  is  someone  who  can  never  make  up  her  mind  .  she  says  what  she  wants  and  she  does  what  she  wants  ,  which  can  sometimes  get  her  in  trouble  even  if  she  doesn’t  mean  to  do  so  .  she  is  extremely  flighty  ,  and  finds  herself  running  from  situations  even  if  they’re  going  well  .  most  people  will  say  that  she  acts  like  an  overgrown  teenager  ,  and  that  could  be  agreed  with  .  as  she  felt  so  sheltered  and  removed  from  the  world  ,  margot  has  taken  her  adult  years  to  do  as  she  so  pleases  .  often  ,  this  means  taking  random  trips  to  charlotte  to  get  a  blowout  or  to  go  shopping  for  things  she  doesn’t  need  .  she  will  offer  you  her  opinion  even  if  it’s  not  asked  for  ,  and  she  struggles  with  not  wanting  to  argue  over  even  the  pettiest  of  situations  .  

004.  CONNECTIONS  .

as  always  ,  i’m  down  to  work  based  on  chemistry  or  fill  any  connections  that  you  may  have  for  your  muses  !

the  high  school  boyfriend  .  maybe  they  see  how  stupid  it  was  to  try  and  run  away  together  ,  or  they  were  completely  serious  .

the  fiance  .  they  were  together  in  la  and  london  ,  but  margot  left  him  suddenly  a  little  over  a  few  months  into  their  engagement  .  perhaps  ...  angst  👀  .

some  friends  pls  !

a  neighbor  ?  mayhaps  they  share  their  sugar  ,  and  they  also  share  ...  their  sugar  😏

her  high  school  best  friend  !  maybe  they  were  an  influence  on  her  rebelling  ,  or  maybe  they  weren’t  !  margot  would  need  a  voice  of  reason  that  she  promptly  ignored  .

hook  ups  ...  put  them  in  my  hands  .  🤲🏽

this  could  be  fun  ,  but  someone  that  she  absolutely  annoys  the  shit  out  of  VCNXVCBHX

but  i  would  also  love  someone  who  makes  her  want  to  stay  in  irving  🥺  her  flightiness  is  always  itching  ,  but  one  hang  out  with  them  and  she  suddenly  thinks  that  irving  is  the  best  place  in  the  world  

[zionmarches]

hello all ! i’m asya, i’m 22, i use she/her pronouns and i’m very nervous excited to be here !! i haven’t been in an rp for well over a year now so i might be rusty pls bare w me<3

❛ ♫ · » jordan fisher, nonbinary, he/they «  wow …  zion march  just  told  me  that  their  band,  cold stare,  got  accepted  into  that  battle  of  the  bands  thing.  wait,  you  don't  know  them?  i  could've  sworn  i  saw  you  two  together  at  that thrift shop on higher hithe street.  well,  nevermind.  they're  twenty-three,  and  they're  the bassist  of  the  band.  when  they're  not  playing  music,  you  can  usually  find  them teaching music class at the local secondary school. i  think  you'd  like  them—  they're  so cheerful,  but  …  also  kind  of  obnoxious, i  suppose.  you'll  know  it's  Z  if  you  ever  meet  them,  because  they're  the  walking  embodiment  of  sunlight bouncing off of stained glass, giving even more life to what was already beautiful. 

zion comes from a large family of ten: their mothers, three sisters and four brothers, all adopted, with him being the second youngest. this environment definitely lended to his large personality. with so many kids, there was always constant competition for any and everything-- space, attention, the remote control. that said, their home couldn’t have been more loving. his mothers, who zion considers to be the most incredible people on earth, provided everything and more for their kids and for each other. 

he was diagnosed with adhd at a young age. his moms, by then, knew what sort of things were outside the norm for hyperactivity in kids and zion fit the bill. from as early as kindergarten, teachers would send him home with letters complaining about his inability to be still in class, outbursts during quiet time, and failure to take in simple concepts that his peers understood immediately. as he grew up, he became incredibly self conscious about this fact. for one thing, no matter how hard he tried (he tried, he tried, he tried), he was always just barely scraping by in his classes. it was a massive cause of stress and self doubt all throughout secondary school, to the point where he cried when told he’d passed and would be graduating. for another, their loud and fidgety presence wasn’t always welcome around their peers. being friendly with others was something that came naturally to zion. being friends was a whole other issue entirely. of course, he’s always had his siblings, as well as his three best friends who would later go on to be his bandmates, but for someone as extroverted as zion, they couldn’t act like it didn’t hurt to be seen as annoying (at best) by other kids his age.

zion isn’t quite sure he was really alive until the first time he played bass. with so many kids to keep track of, it helped his moms to have them engaged in activities in and out of school. for a while, zion’s thing was whatever one of his siblings was doing. football, art lessons, gymnastics (briefly), things that he did just because he’d never really given much thought as to what he liked. that much changed when one of his brothers started taking guitar lessons, so zion decided he would take guitar lessons. when asked what kind of guitar he wanted to play, not-quite-ten zion just sort of.. guessed. in this, they were incredibly lucky. from the first note he played, harsh and out of tune, he felt a joy unlike any he’d experienced before. it turned out, learning to play music traditionally wasn’t any easier for him than learning long division. he announced to his moms that he would be quitting lessons and teaching himself. and that’s what he did. in his off time, he played and played until his fingers hurt or someone told him to stop. he watched videos, listened to new music, practiced all he could until he could replicate bass lines to all of his favorite songs and then some. to this day, it remains one of his proudest accomplishments. 

when it comes to gender and sexuality, there’s a lot up in the air for zion. it wasn’t until late in his secondary school career that he even began to think about those things. they’d never been in a relationship, even now, and thought that theoretically, when they did it could very well be with anyone who was kind and made him laugh. “the gender thing”, as they called it when talking to their parents about it, didn’t come up until after graduating from university. they, of course, gave zion ample resources to help in figuring things out, but still he figured it was something he would come into in his own time. it’s not something they really acknowledge outside of their circle of family and close friends, aside from the cursory “he/they” in his social media bios.

zion’s family was more than a little well off - they had to be, to afford taking care of eight kids - which gave them a lot of freedom in life. even having moved out of the house, his parents still took care of him and his siblings. if it was what he wanted, cold stare could be his full time gig and he wouldn’t suffer for it financially. that wasn’t, of course, the case for all of his bandmates. so, zion went back to school, studied music and education. it wasn’t any easier for them than it had been in secondary school, but now they had a goal in mind, and the determination to push him the rest of the way. after graduating, they took a job as the music teacher at the local secondary school. ideally the job would have just been a way to make himself useful to society when away from the band, but the reality was so much better than he could have hoped. zion loved teaching. he loved his classroom and how he could make it a place for kids to feel safe, and welcomed, and understood, all while learning about music. it was a dream come true.

zion’s family has only continued to grow over the years as his siblings went off and had kids of their own. they’re an uncle several times over, and love their nieces and nephews to pieces. tight at their schedule might be most days, they never hesitate to break the flow of things to spend time with his family, as they’ve always been the most important thing, second not even to music

despite having enough money to shop elsewhere, zion buys most of their clothes from local thrift shops and flea markets. this is because his sense of fashion is, in a word, atrocious, and he finds the best gets there. he dresses the part of emo-kid-never-met-a-color-that-isnt-black on stage, because he figures the music should speak louder than his knee length muppet socks, but elsewhere he’s mostly a high waisted corduroy pants and bright yellow windbreakers kind of guy.

they adopted a cat when they moved out of the house. her name is iris (after the song) and she’s their best friend. they spoil her much more than is reasonable, but deny it whenever its brought up.