#because it’s 5 hours away from me and i would never buy plane tickets to go to one of these things so i thought this might be my last chance

[bagsley]

…

[chaosvents]

A post about my ex who fucked me up so bad hahahaha.

Tw this guy is literally pro-hitler so like. If any or the isms and phobias bug you don't read any of my posts about him lol

So anyway one of this guy's wildest beliefs was that your personal politics should be actively NOT self serving. Like he told me that I shouldn't be pro-birth control/plan b/abortion even though I had been sexually assaulted and relied on those things to avoid pregnancy, because my attacker was white. So he was like honestly you would've been worth more in the world if you had his kid. For the greater good or whatever.

And he would lecture me for hours and hours and hours at a time about how I should basically chemically lobotomize myself with mood stabilizers until I had no opinions of my own, because I was a white woman and should really not do anything but repeatedly have kids. And I was expected to be like yep this is the life I want.

When we moved to phoenix, he was aware of my heart condition. I have POTS, which mixes horrifically with heat like that. We lived there for 3 years and most of that time I was in bed sick because the heat made my illness so much worse. I relied on him for everything.

I developed a bunch of shitty coping skills that probably have fancy psychology names like cognitive dissonance (which is like doublethink, which I did constantly for all 5 years and I'm sure it caused brain damage or something tbh) but it all boiled down to me completely buying that he was the only person on the planet who could tolerate me and that I had to bend to his will or be alone forever. It's been years since I even saw him and I still haven't dated seriously or gotten close with anyone.

I hold everyone at arms length, barely text my friends and am disconnected from everything and floating through life atm. Still trying to reverse all the damage he did. I have no self worth and no metric for what it feels like to be loved instead of just owned and controlled. I don't know what I want out of my life.

I don't understand how I could have let myself be so controlled by him. Why did I move across the entire country with him? Why did I let him push all my friends out of my life, change my career (he didn't approve of me being a barber because it was "basically like being a stripper"), and cross 8 states to get away from my life? To be... with him? Why did I let him convince me I was a docile, sweet, straight woman who wanted nothing more than tradwife and babymaking duties?

Even after I came out as what I thought was lesbian at the time, he still demanded sex from me multiple times a day and wouldn't take his computer stuff out of the second bedroom so I could sleep there. I had to sleep next to him and let him do whatever he wanted to me because he was paying the rent. I was forced into it so often that I convinced myself I liked it. Which is probably why now I'm so confused by my sexuality. What's a trauma response? What's genuine attraction? Who knows.

In march of 2020 I lost my job. He immediately kicked me out and I had to find an apartment alone, with no job, across the country from my family, in the middle of a pandemic. I've never had a worse mental health situation in my life and I've been inpatient 4 times. I barely remember any of 2020 because guess what? It isn't like I was allowed to stop having sex with him and showering with him because we didn't live together. He showed up constantly. Stole my spare key and made a copy so he could come in whenever he wanted to.

So why didn't I call the cops or something? Idk. I didn't really register that it was a problem at the time, he had been torturing me with stuff like this since I 19. By the time I was living alone in a shitty studio during a pandemic with no friends and my family a $400 plane ticket away, I just assumed that my life was being forced to perform a blow job, then let him fuck me, then showering in my tiny apartment shower with him while he leered and stared and grabbed my body, and then watch him play video games on his PC afterwards while sitting in silence on the bed.

One time he took away all my birth control pills and made me watch while he flushed them all. Going off of them suddenly made my lamictal way too strong (and of course he was force feeding me the lamictal so there was no such thing as adjusting the dose) and I got what I'm assuming was serotonin syndrome. I was blacking put, vomiting, hallucinating, terrified, and completely alone. I was calling him because he took away everyone else in my life and all I had was him. I drove to his apartment and begged for help. He ignored me and let me lay unconscious in my car outside his apartment for hours and hours in the middle of the day. In phoenix, in July.

I don't know what happened that day. I don't know what he did to me, but eventually I woke up at home. I found my car in the parking lot of a nearby grocery store.

I'm lucky I got away alive and without a baby. No one deserves to inherit half of my shitty genome and half of his. I'm lucky I got away at all, but not until he broke my spirit, took away all my support, dragged me across the country to a climate that made me severely ill, repeatedly forced me into sex after I came out, gaslit me, made me homeless mid pandemic, then continued to abuse his power until it literally almost killed me.

I met this guy when I was in high school. We were together from when I was 19. We moved to phoenix when I was 22 and he controlled me until I moved back home in July of 2022 when I was 26. The final straw was when I went out on my own for the first time in years and the bartender put drugs in my drink. I woke up alone in a swanky downtown apartment and when I called him to pick me up he told me if I was going to behave like a slut he wasn't going to bail me out.

Problem is I'm really REALLY allergic to both alcohol and roofies so I was horribly dehydrated as well as missing medication doses at this point, so I walked in the 100° heat to the ER. I got a sane exam where they found semen, a plan b pill, and a lengthy interview by about a dozen police officers. I couldn't bear to be alone in my apartment after that so I had the cops drop me off at a psych hospital.

I got my meds switched, went home, cleared out my apartment, broke my lease, and went home to my family. I'm safe now. But he's still haunting me. I don't know if I'll ever be okay.

Sorry.

[uhgoodmoni]

I’ll Sleep on the Floor | JJK

Summary: Eunjae (oc) and Jungkook aren’t really friends. Like, at all. Actually Eunjae hates Jungkook’s guts. The real issue is that they both are best friends with Seokjin, who wishes that they would just get over their seemingly petty hatred for one another. So to try and solve that Jin invites them to a trip in Greece. Should be fun in paradise? But paradise turns to disaster when a flight gets delayed... they need a hotel and... There’s only ONE bed??

Warnings: Angst cause I always have angst, some fluff ig, idk this ones pretty chill tbh, implied anxiety 

(14,286 words) 

Ao3 | Wattpad

~

 With my suitcase trailing behind me, wheels scoring the tiles, I walk towards my gate. The first flight was easy up until the end. I napped restfully the entire time but as we came to Tbilisi International Airport in Georgia, the captain had announced that the descent would have rough turbulence because of the storm that was starting. Rough turbulence indeed, a few storage bins had opened up, allowing passengers belongings to fall to the cabin floor. My items were safe, luckily, but the woman seated in front of me had gotten a book to the face. We landed safely and that really was the only thing to be concerned about. Thunder echoed throughout the airport, the flash of lightning shining through the windows. This was bad, very bad. The second flight I would take, Tbilisi air to Athens air. Would it get delayed? I pray not as I walked towards the gate.

Seokjin and I had planned the trip to the T, the next departure an hour and a half after the time we���d land in Tbilisi. A shame we even had to have a layover but our last minute planning had cursed us with that. 

I feel like calling Jin now that I have service. Or wifi anyway. So I pull out my phone as I continue my stroll. The airport here is not as busy as Incheon, but still bustling with more people than expected at 8pm. 

“Did you make it?” I smile at Jin’s voice coming through the speaker of my phone, only seventy percent. I should charge it before the next flight. 

“No, the plane crashed in a fiery accident and I’m calling from my deathbed.” I glance around, looking for a map, or a guide or something that would tell me if I was headed in the right direction. 

“Ah, good to know. The beach is waiting here for you. The sun is setting now.”

I look out the window, “I’ve got bad news.” 

“What?” He asks, his voice changing to worry after hearing the change in my own tone. “Has Jungkook’s flight not landed yet?” 

I shake my head, “No, no. I don’t know where he is. I haven’t even got to my gate yet.” Looking for Jungkook? As if I could care if his plane landed or not. Hopefully it hasn’t and I can fly the final stretch to Greece alone. “There's a storm, it's thundering and I’m not sure if it is going to stick around or not. I haven't checked if our flight is on time.”

He hums, “Well figure it out and let me know.” I nod, seeing the flight list a little further down, just small enough in my vision not to see it yet. Jin stays on the line as I walk.

I glare up at the lit up sign. “Isn’t it supposed to be clear weather here.” I groan, red sign in Georgian, and next to it in English. Delayed. 

“That doesn’t sound good? Delayed?”

I sigh, “Yeah.” I look towards where I think my gate is and see the correct number. A few attendants were talking to passengers. “I’m gonna go find out how long. I’ll call you back.” 

He hums and hangs up first, he’s probably upset, he’d already been in Greece the whole day alone. He’d just have to wait. It’s not like I have any other choice. 

The passengers are complaining of course, their nags getting to my ears before I am close to the desk. Their questions were “How long really is it?” and “you’re joking right?” But some of the other’s I didn’t understand because they weren’t speaking English or Korean. 

I look around the gate, seeing that dreaded face sitting in the waiting area. He smiles at me, but only because he knows I’m unhappy to see him. I try not to let him get to me, and I walk towards him instead of the desk. Surely he already knows. Which I’m sure he does because his face turns to a frown as I get closer. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” he mutters as I reach him, standing up to face me. “But the flight is delayed.”

I shake my head. Yeah I already know that. “How long?” 

He shrugs, “They haven’t said how long yet.” 

“What?” I flip to the attendant at the desk. “How do they not know?”

Jungkook smirks, “It’s nice to see you by the way. And you look just great.” He says, and he’s being sarcastic. I glare and then remember to soften my face because I was sure I looked like a bitch to the poor attendant behind the desk who was already surrounded by Karens. 

“Seriously?” I take a deep breath, holding in my feelings that are already about to explode. Fifteen minutes in the airport and only one minute in his presence and I was ready to punch him. 

“All I said was that you look great and it’s nice to see you.” He shrugs, that smug grin never leaving his face. “And all you have to say is seriously? Can’t even greet me back?”

I ignore him, seeing an open opportunity to speak with the attendant and slip between the shoulders of two others. “Hi excuse me, this flight is delayed right?”

The person nods, “Yes I am so sorry.” But they don’t say anything else. 

“Is it possible you could tell me when it’s going to take off?” I pursue further, but the attendant looks dejected, making me think Jungkook was right. 

“Georgia isn’t a country where storms this bad come in. This is probably the worst storm they’ve seen this summer. We just don’t have an exact time right now.” 

“You’re joking right?” I sigh to myself, and then cringe realizing I sound like everyone else who is surrounding them. “I’m sorry, actually is there any information that you can give me?”

The attendant frowns, speaking to all of us now. “It’s likely that this flight will be canceled within the hour.” They pull out a map of the airport from under the desk. “For rescheduling you’ll want to go here. They point to a dot on the far end, “It should be easy to get one within the next day or so.” My eyes widen. Day or so? I look back to Jungkook who looks equally as worried.

I thank the attendant and return to my luggage and Jungkook at the benches. “What do we do?”

He glances at the hoard of people heading away from the gate, “Try and get on a flight that’s open I guess.” He sighs, pulling up his phone and dialing for Jin.

I bite my lip, glancing and seeing that the people were all heading off to do the same thing. Our stress-free flight that was planned to the T was no longer in sight. And now the line of those trying to do the same thing as us, would make it take even longer.

“Hey…” I turn to Jungkook who sits back down in the chair. “They are advising us to find another flight. Something for tomorrow or the next day…” He’s talking to Jin, whose voice I hear on the other end. Much more upset than he was earlier. I try and listen in as I sit next to Jungkook, the nagging feeling that I should go get us a spot in line urging me to bite at the inside of my mouth even more. But the line would be long whether I went now or waited with Jungkook. 

“Yeah I know… I’m really sorry Jin.” Jungkook says and then faintly I hear an ‘its not your fault’ and then an ‘room service here is good’ I smile at this, hoping that Jin would make the best of our late comings. “We are going to wait until they cancel it and then I guess see what kind of flights there are. I’ll call you then okay?”

I shake my head. He decided for the both of us. I open my mouth as he finally hangs up the phone but he speaks before I can. 

“Listen Eunjae, before you get all gripey with me, I think we should wait because if we go and buy new tickets just to find out that this attendant was wrong and the flight doesn’t get canceled that would fucking suck.” My mouth shuts and Jungkook grins. For now I would listen to him. 

Twenty minutes later the sign changed to cancel. Jungkooks defeat, not that it brings me joy. But if anything is going to make me smile in this situation it would be that Jungkook is wrong. 

“What if they only have one seat?” I grin at the thought of this. “Can I buy the first flight out?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“Jin might despise you.” He retorts, dragging along one more smaller suitcase than me. I know he was right and stop thinking about the idea. Jin would be furious. Maybe more than Jungkook knew. 

Before we had planned the trip Jin had come to me very angry, (as angry as he lets himself get) and very sad that his two best friends hate each other's guts. He had said it made him anxious and he wasn’t sure if either of us would stick around him because of the other. 

Which had never crossed my mind. Of course I hate everytime Jin tells me Jungkook would be at an event or would be tagging along with us but I didn’t think that it bothered Jin. To be honest it looked like it stressed him out more than Jungkook and I. Which I understand. It is hard to be the middleman. 

No, I never thought about not hanging out with Jin because of Jungkook. Well maybe I was lying. But it was never a permanent thought in my head. Rather it was fleeting in moments that I found out Jungkook would be coming and I didn’t want to go that night anymore. I always told Jin that there were ways to schedule us around eachother, and he’d pretend to listen. Which genuinely upset me, because Jungkook is an asshole. An asshole who I hate, and Jin should listen to how I feel too. But I never tell him that. Instead I agreed to go to Greece with the two of them. Jungkook completely unaware that this is basically a bonding experiment. 

“The earliest flight I can put you both on together is tomorrow evening at 5 pm” Which is extremely disappointing. Regardless, we don’t have another choice, so we laid out some money for the flight. Now another decision would have to be made. To stay in the airport and sleep on the floor, waiting hours and hours on end, or to get a hotel just outside of the airport. “With or without you I am getting out of this place.” Jungkook groans, and for once I agree with him and in silence we find our way to the exit. “I called a hotel that’s pretty close.” I say putting the phone down, exhausted as we had just gone through security. “They said we are lucky there are two rooms open so last minute.” Jungkook only grunts in response, hailing a cab for us. I sigh, which is the most either of us lets out the entire car ride to the hotel except to thank and pay the driver. 

Neither of us speak when we exit either, heading into the hotel side by side but far apart. Despite the silence so obviously caused by resentment towards each other, I don’t try to fix it. I’ll save my energy for the rest of the trip, while in Seokjin’s presence. 

We check in, and pay our own separate ways. A two hundred dollar expense that I wasn’t expecting to pay, but because it’s so last minute the prices for just one night were high. 

“Heres your key cards. Hope you enjoy your stay.” The receptionist has a small smile and ushers us along. We aren’t the only people checking in.

I finally break the silence. “I think my room is in the other direction…” I announce and he looks back at me with a curt nod. 

“Well if you need anything you have my number.” He says before turning around. “Be safe.” is barely heard as I turn around too. I don’t mutter ‘you too’ back because he’s already walking off. 

As I walk off towards my room I let out a deep breath of relief. Glad that the silence wasn’t forced anymore. I seriously don’t know what Jin was thinking. A week trip with just the three of us? It is going to suck, and probably for all of us. Maybe that’s why Jin’s destination is Greece, a place we could try and relax amongst agonizing company. Jin’s trying at least and, since he cares so much I’ll put in my effort. Or at least try to. 

I text Jin that we finally got to a hotel and that I would message him before our flight tomorrow. He responds with a smiley and a goodnight. I smile, hoping that he was having a good night too.

By the time I get to my hotel room I am giddy with the idea of jumping in bed. My arm is tired from dragging my suitcase and my back hurts from the airplane seats. Not to mention my aching brain from the practically pointless conversations with Jungkook. Seriously did he not even care to at least make some small talk? He spoke things of such little importance. ‘You look great’ He could have asked some questions about how I was doing or something worth conversation. Or at least make it genuine. However, would it have been worse to hear him speak more? 

I pull the card up against the slot, a beep and then a red light blinking. Red is never a good sign. And what do you know the door doesn’t unlock. What a joke. I look down at my stuff debating whether to leave it by the door or take it all the way back to the lobby with me. Then I decide that leaving everything on my person in a foreign country is stupid and I pull the luggage back. 

“Hi what can I help you with?” It’s a different attendant this time, and I slide the card to them 

“Hi, um I’m in room 128 and my key wont work.” 

They nod a few times, taking the key and inserting it somewhere. She types up some things on the computer and then. “Mr Hamira?”

I shake my head. “No it should be under Ha, Ha Eunjae” They seem confused and double check. They shake their head. 

“I’m sorry we…” they purse their lips, typing in something else. “I’m sorry one moment.” So I stand there wondering if the earlier receptionist was wrong. There weren't two rooms, and instead had given me a room that someone else was in. Fuck I hope not. 

“Well, you’re name is there. I have your receipt here… but someone else already has this booked out as well…” I swallow. Damnit. I nod. “Are you sure?”

They frown and then reach for the phone. “I’ll call the room to see if anyone is in it.” So she dials it up and a moment later an answer. My heart drops. I’ll have to find another room? And if they don’t have one? Then I’d call another hotel. I don’t want to think about what I would do if there aren’t any open hotels for the night. Why’s it so damn busy at this hotel? “Sorry sir for waking you, we just wanted to check…” I open my phone googling a nearby hotel. “Is there any other rooms?”

The receptionist puts the phone down shaking her head. “Not tonight I’m afraid. I’m so sorry, do you remember the name of the person who sold you this room?” I shake my head, not really caring for them to get reprimanded. “I will refund your money right now.”  I bite my lip. Damn, what was I going to do?

“Okay.” I mutter dialing the phone to the next closest hotel. They answer but no good news, they were booked out for the rest of the week. 

“We have a festival going on nearby that’s why.” She frowns, “I’m sorry…”

I don’t really care, it’s not her fault, but as I call the next hotel and the next and the next all within an hours radius I realize there’s no hope. I could travel the two hours to the next hotel but… I find myself seated in the lobby head pressed against my suitcase. I feel like throwing up, crying and screaming all simultaneously. 

Jin crosses my mind and for a moment I think about calling him, but I decide not to bother him. It is my own problem to deal with. Though I can imagine him saying something like “your problems are mine and vice versa.” Blah blah, he cares too much. I frown, thinking about how bad the trip is going to be. I wonder if Jin dreads it as much as me. Does Jungkook dread hanging out with me as much as I do him? He must. After all he thinks that ‘I’m a stuck up cunt’ and many other things I don’t feel like replaying. I frown, how misogynistic and cruel. But I don’t linger on his past words and instead his most recent flutter into my thoughts. 

Well if you need anything you have my number.

So because I have no other ideas, I pull open my phone and search him up. There was nothing.

Fuck. Of course not, I never saved his number. I hate his guts. For a moment I hate my own guts. How stupid could I be, not saving his number? Any number of emergencies could have occurred where I might need to contact him. 

I cave, realizing who I need to ask, and open our text messages.

‘you’re really asking for his number’

‘yes dont ask i just rlly need it oki???’

‘mhm, why don’t you ask him yourself ;)’

‘jin give me his number’

I roll my eyes, but another text comes and it's a phone number. I stare at it for a moment. Do I text or call? And then I think about doing neither, I could just bear with the two hour drive. I close the message. Honestly getting a cab for two hours would be expensive. But not more expensive than the time I’ll be stuck with Jungkook. Plus I’ll have to sleep on the floor. It would be rude to ask to take the bed… Fuck. 

So I call a cab, the line ringing and my head buzzing with regret. How expensive would this ride be? Not to mention I’d have to get another cab back to the airport tomorrow? My teeth tear into the skin in my mouth, this time the taste of iron filling at my tongue. 

“What are you doing out here?” I jump at the sound of his voice, turning to see Jungkook standing with his wallet in hand. 

I don’t know how to explain but settle with “They sold me a room they don't have.”I stutter thinking how stupid I must look still sitting in the lobby with all my stuff. I was sure to look a mess, almost crying. He looks over to the receptionist who is speaking to someone else. I look at the clock on my phone, still waiting for an answer. It is almost eleven. 

“Is there another hotel?” He mutters not even looking back at me. 

“No, well. There is one but it’s two hours away.” 

His eyes widen as he opens his wallet. “Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t be joking.” I say, my voice raising. I am not in the mood right now. He doesn’t respond. “I’m trying to call a cab.” I take the phone away from my ear as it goes to voice mail. The message is in a language I don’t know. “Fuck.” I hang up. Putting my phone on my lap.

“Did you already rent a room at the other hotel?” He asks, looking longingly to the vending machines. 

My jaw clenches. “No.” I spit at him, “They won’t fucking take my money over the phone, because of this damn.” I choke, “This.. Damn festival.” I sniff, pressing my hands against my cheeks that were now rosy and warm. 

“What kind of festival?” 

I blink, a tear falling from my eye. “I don’t fucking know.” I almost yell, the receptionist looking over. A few more tears drip down my cheeks. I wipe them hastily away. 

Jungkook takes a seat next to me. “I’m sorry… I didn’t ask to piss you off..” he sighs, “I wasn’t thinking.” he presses his lips together looking anywhere but me, “you’re not going anywhere, that’s stupid.” I wipe away more stupid tears as he continues. “It’s just one night you can come to my room…” He sighs, eyes falling to his hands. 

“Really?” I sniff.

He glares at me even though I was really asking. “Yeah don’t ask again or your calling that cab.”

My smile is small while I stand with him, awkwardly following him to the vending machines and watching as he glanced over his options. He finally just chose a water bottle and some m and ms. 

“Do you want anything?” He asks me, and I shake my head softly. Still a foggy mind from the anxiety attack I narrowly dodged.

He buys another water and hands it to me. We quietly walk back towards his room. The receptionist was staring, probably conjuring what kind of person would pick a stranger to stay in their hotel room. Little does she know, we actually know each other.

As we got to his room and he taps the key on the door, I will myself to speak again. “you didn’t have to…” but I only mumble the words.

He pops a chocolate in his mouth and looks down at me. “What? It’s just water.”

“No…” I frown as he kicks open the door. “letting me stay with you.” 

He shrugs as we enter the hotel room. “I said don’t mention it, otherwise you’re back on the street.” Despite sounding serious I can tell that he’s not. I shuffle to the side of the room leaving my suitcase on the side. 

“I can sleep on the floor…” 

“Ew what? No, that's disgusting.” He shakes his head, and unzips his suitcase. He stands there a moment before pulling out some clothes. I stand there idle as he walks around me, closing himself off into the bathroom. 

He is right, that is gross. But I don’t want to take his bed? Would he sleep on the floor? How annoying, I know that if it were the other way around I’d be pissed. I should have just gotten the other hotel. I could have napped on the drive and been fine. Although I wouldn’t want to be alone with some driver for two hours. It would probably be a man, and he might be creepy. 

“Eunjae are you okay?” Jungkook has come out in sweats and a tshirt. I stare at him a second, but not for any reason other than he spoke to me.

“Oh, yeah.” I realize I’ve been standing in the same place since I got in the room and so I decide that I’ll follow in his footsteps, taking out a pair of shorts and a tshirt I had packed for pajamas. 

He squints at me, walking around back to the other side of the room. “You’re being weird…” 

“Sorry.” I mutter going into the bathroom to change. Although I knew I would look tired, when I found myself in the mirror I looked worse than I thought. My eyes are red and puffy from fatigue as well as crying. I roll my eyes at myself. It was a stupid reason to cry. I try not to think about the day that had gone wrong so I distract myself by changing. It is in the past now so it doesn’t really matter. But still, I don’t want to be on another flight tomorrow and I don’t want to be in this room, but I don’t want to be anywhere else either. I just want to be in Greece already. Drinking and sitting on the beach with Jin. 

After changing I brush my teeth and wash my face. I am ready to pass out. I come back out to the room and Jungkook is playing some videos on his phone. He is laid out on the left side of the bed, already under the covers. Two pillows separate the two sides of the bed. It is only a queen sized bed, and Jungkook isn’t small so there is only just enough space for me.

“What?” He glares at me. And it bothers me because I’ve done absolutely nothing to him. 

“N-nothing.” I say, plugging my phone in and stepping to the bed. Really I never did anything to him the entire time we had known each other. And yet he is such an asshole. I take a seat, but really I don’t want to get in the bed. It’s weird. 

I hear Jungkook sigh as I stare at my phone. “We aren’t twelve you know.”

“I am aware Jungkook. That doesn’t mean I want to sleep in the same bed as you.” I shoot, back to my regular self.

He huffs, “For one night only. You’ll never get the chance again.” He winks when I turn staring daggers at him. 

I ignore this and pull myself under the covers. If I ever am going to fall asleep tonight in the presence of that demon I will have to start getting comfortable now. 

We both fall into a silence. The only sounds being the rain hitting the window, the air conditioner, and the tiktoks he's scrolling through. The light is still on so I don’t close my eyes yet. Instead I think about what Jin had asked of me. He won’t want me to fake it. No fake smiles, or being a bitch back to Jungkook after he’s been an asshole. I will have to genuinely be nice to him. How can I do that when he’s only being an ass to me all time? Be honest with my feelings? Hey Jungkook, that hurt my feelings. Ha, he’ll laugh in my face and then do it again… right? 

I have never tried that before… and earlier when I had very obviously almost had a breakdown he actually apologized. I think it was genuine. I think that might have been the first time he had ever seen me cry. 

“Jungkook.” I hated myself the moment his name came out of my mouth. Why had I spoken?

He rolls over slightly as he had been facing opposite me. “What?” He sounds annoyed, rightfully so. 

I stare at the ceiling. “Why do you hate me?” And after I ask the question I bite my lip because it sounds stupid.

He scoffs, “Who told you I hated you?”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean? At the very least you dislike me highly. When have you ever shown any ounce of kindness to me?” Silence, and that sounds even more dumb because he had by letting me stay in his room “Y-you know what I mean.” I squint, realizing I am being a bitch and failing at even one step of pleasing Jin. 

“I only treat you the same way you treat me.” He states blankly, my anger immediately blowing over. 

“What?” I push myself up on one arm, Jungkook raising a brow at me. “Are you fucking joking? You’ve only ever been an asshole to me. I never did anything but deal with your shit.”

He blinks. “That’s not true.” My mouth falls open at his unwillingness to admit that he had done something wrong. “I only don’t like you because you don’t like me. No other reason.” He sits up, “You started whatever this is.” He scrunches up his face, “and don’t act like you didn’t because from the very beginning of our relationship, you acted like I didn’t exist…” 

He shakes his head, hands clenching tightly against his phone, continuing; “and everytime I came into the room you’d look at me like I was some disgusting animal and then whisper to your friends. Do you know how that makes someone feel? All I ever did was say hi and you were so fake I could feel the bitchiness radiating off you. I didn’t do anything and you treated me like shit.” He looks me over. “You were awful.”

I wish I could have interrupted his stupid speech. He really believes that I am in the wrong? Does he really have no recollection? 

“Liar.” I growl. “Don’t act like you dont know.” I sniff, “I only ignored you because you thought you had me figured out from the get go.” My frown becomes prominent and that feeling from earlier returns along with the redness in my cheeks and the water in my eyes. “You had met me one time Jungkook. One fucking time and had the nerve to assume you knew anything about me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He has a stupid look on his face, one that makes me even more angry.

“How can you not remember your great first impression of me Jungkook?” I feel a tear slip down my cheeks but it's more out of anger than sadness. “Eunjae seems like a pretentious cunt, I don’t know why Jin is friends with someone like that-” the tears fall freely now, “a- a whore and…” I clasp a hand over my mouth, stopping a sob. There isn’t really a point in continuing. That should refresh his memory enough. a whore and a gold digging bitch. Only friends with Jin for his money. None of which was true. Well maybe the pretentious part, only sometimes. The tears are dripping onto the sheets of the bed, embarrassing. So I push the covers off of me. 

“I-” He shakes his head, shakes and shakes. “I didn’t say that. I never said that.” But I am not listening, I stand up and walk into the bathroom, unable to hear whatever it is he’s saying. I shut the door and sit on the edge of the tub, tearing at the tissue to blow my nose. 

I had only told a few of my friends why I hated Jungkook. Only the ones that weren’t mutual with him. Even Jin always wondered. Why would I tell him that the young man he looks so highly of is a total douchebag? It only felt right to keep it to myself, I was sure, no, am sure that Jungkook had relayed that impression of me to all our friends. After all it was my friend who had told me she overheard him telling these things to Taehyung. I had met Taehyung that night and after that I thought I saw a tinge of disdain everytime we spoke. At present it is gone, but did he still sometimes agree? Does he think I am a whore? Do Namjoon or Yoongi think I am a golddigger? I am sure Jungkook thinks those things all of the time. Because he has always been an asshole. Always.

There is a knock at the front door, which I hear Jungkook answer. The door opens and I wondered what it is. It shuts again a moment later. Maybe Jungkook left. After gaining my bearings I rinse off my face and go to open the door. How am I meant to stay here after that?

Jungkook is standing across from the door, “There was a noise complaint.” He spoke quietly, scratching the back of his neck. I don’t respond, only try to walk past him back to the bed. “Eunjae, I never said that.” I close my eyes not really wanting to hear it. “I swear to you, I never said that.”

I pout, looking up at him, barely whispering. “I don’t believe you.”

“I- I really didn’t. I don’t know how to prove to you I didn’t. Why would I? I never have thought those things about you. I really would never say those things.” He stutters a few times and then gets annoyed. “Who told you I said that?”

I clench my teeth, “P-Park Iseul.” 

He looks defeated, “I- I don’t even know who that is…”

He can’t defend himself which is enough for me. “You said all those things about me, to Tae…”

“No Jae… listen.” I scoff, “Really gonna try using a nickname on me now? You’re really-”

“Eunjae, I’m sorry.” He’s holding back his annoyance with me, “Why don’t you ask Tae then? Mhm?” He purses his lips, “I have never lied to you. Have I?” And I think for a moment. I can’t recollect a time when he had lied, but I’m sure there had to be at least one. “I didn’t say those things about you. In fact I thought you were really cool. Whoever may have said those things really is an asshole and they're wrong.” He flicks his hands up, “But it wasn’t me.”

“Then- then why have you been so mean to me?” Is all I could manage. At this point I’m not sure whether I believe him or not. This whole time of thinking that he had said those things only to be wrong? 

“I told you. You made me feel like I was a parasite. Like I didn’t belong. I’ve been wondering why you’ve hated me for years, and figured that there was just something wrong with me.” 

My frown is stuck to my face. I never wanted him to feel that way. No, I did, but only because he made me feel the same way. Because he is evil. But if that isn’t true and he never had been evil in the first place, then it was I who had been the evil one. 

“I’m sorry.” I say softly, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, his hair falling into his face, “I’m sorry too.” However, if he is telling the truth then there is no real reason for him to apologize. I had thought that Jungkook was reigning terror over me the whole time I had known him but it had actually been the other way around. I am the bitch he thinks I am. 

“No really.” I wish I had grabbed a few more tissues because my eyes are leaking again, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been so mean.” He doesn’t say anything. “I really thought that-”

“It’s okay.” He sighs, leaning against the wall. “If it had been the other way around, I might have done the same thing.” But something tells me he wouldn’t have. Despite despising him, the years and years of being around each other I knew Jungkook fairly well. The only person he acts like this around is me, and it is all my fault. 

I fold my hands together, sniffing. “Jungkook I’m so so so sorry. I really am. I wish I could take it all back.” 

He pushes himself off of the wall. “Please, it’s fine I promise you. If you apologize again I’m making you sleep on the floor.” He walks around back to the bed. “I wish I could take it back too, but it’s just the past.” He sits down. “And now we know it was a dumb miscommunication.” A miscommunication and an assumption on my part. And now I feel awful. And as if reading my mind he speaks again, “Don’t apologize again, really.”

“But I-” He shoots me a glare that stops me. 

“Eunjae, I know you’re sorry. I think I know you well enough to know now that you mean it genuinely.” Which only made me feel worse knowing that I never have truly apologized for any of the mean things I’ve said to him. I wonder how often I made him feel sad. He didn’t really show it, instead he’d shoot some sarcastic thing back at me. 

“I want to apologize for everything… anything I’ve ever said-” I continue… and he sighs. 

“Well don’t. Just pretend that we were teasing each other. Most of it was teasing anyway.” 

But he is wrong, “For you maybe. You teased me. I was just awful. I can’t imagine how you felt. I-”

“Yes you can imagine, because you felt the same way about all the things I said to you. So we’ll call it even.” He pulls the covers over himself. “Now let's forget about it and sleep. It's already midnight.” I stand in my place for a moment, before admitting defeat and going back to bed. After pulling the covers up to my shoulders, Jungkook switches off the last light, the whole room going dark as well as silent. The patter of rain on the window lulls me to fatigue but my brain doesn’t want to stop churning. Eventually my thoughts calm themselves and I’m able to fall asleep. 

~

It was an awkward morning. Both of us were quiet as we tiptoed around each other, getting ready to head back to the airport. Showered, and freshened up for another 5 hour flight. We had slept in but still were tired, and my back still ached. There were almost six hours till our flight but checkout was at 11 and it was 10:45. I was hungry the last meal I had was back in Korea, and last night I hadn’t even thought about eating. We would hopefully pick up something on the way. 

“Do you want to eat?” Jungkook asks as he gives the attendant his keycard. “I’m starving.”

It was the first thing he had said that morning and it felt weird. Our conversation from last night had ended abruptly. At least to me it had. There was so much left unsaid. I wanted to apologize again, in a moment where we were not in the heat of the moment. A real apology. 

“Me too.” I say, and I try to smile. “We could go through the drive through with an uber?”

So that’s what we did. A quick sandwich place where the food was cheap and easy. The driver allowed us to eat in the car as long as we didn’t make a mess. The drive to the airport took longer than expected. There was traffic from the event the attendant spoke of last night, but thankfully the driver played music as Jungkook wasn’t talking much. What was he thinking? 

He was probably thinking about how much he hated airport security. At least that was what I was thinking as we made our way through the airport. Conversation was the last thing on my mind while I walked through the metal detectors. By the time we were set free by the employees and back around to our new gate it was 1pm with four hours to kill. 

“What do you think Jin is doing right now?” I spoke to him for the first time in what might have been an hour of waiting. Now we are sitting together on a bench, with several other passengers. It's not like we have much else to do. I can at least try to kill the awkward with conversation. 

He sighs, “Probably eating a five star lunch with a view of the beach…” He leans back against the chair, stretching his neck, and pushing his hair back. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. His chest rising and falling softly. I look away and think back to Jin. 

“I wish…” I pull out my phone, he is probably wondering what we are doing too. I dial his number, looking away from Jungkook. 

He answers almost right away. “Hey Jinnie….”

“Hey are you at the airport?” He sounds more cheerful than he was last night. He is just as excited as we are that we’ll finally be in Greece with him. 

“Yup, still got a while to wait though.” I say frowning, looking at the clock. “We are just sitting here… waiting. Waiting. Waiting.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry…” He sighs and then mumbles to someone off the phone. “I can't wait to see you… In like eight hours…”

I shake my head… “It’ll be late then, you should sleep.” He shouldn’t wait for us. It’s not like we are alone. We’ll be able to find our way to the hotel with eachothers help. I glance to Jungkook who looks like he could be asleep. His lashes were quite long. Just as long as mine, how unfair. He had such a pretty face. 

“No, no it sucks that you guys got stuck and I want to meet you there. Don’t need you getting lost.” And I smile at this. He’s always like this. Caring for others. It sucks even more that he is alone though. Is Jungkook asleep? That same soft rise and fall of his chest. No he isn’t, His thumbs twiddle with the tag on his luggage. 

“Alright… Then I’ll see you in eight hours… try and save doing the fun stuff with Jungkook and I. I think I have severe FOMO.” I laugh, picking at my fingers. I was a patient person but god this is a long time to wait.

“Me too.” Jungkook huffs, not opening his eyes “What’s he eating? How’s the food?” He groans, “I wanna be there and not here.”

I relay Jungkook's questions which Jin happily answers. “Oh you will love it. Everything is delicious. I don’t want to stop eating. It's so good.”

I smile, barely holding back my anticipation. “We can’t wait to be there.”

For a moment he’s quiet, “You’ve sounded weird… What happened? Did you guys argue or something?” He sighs, “Why am I even asking of course you argued.”

“What?” I purse my lips together. How’d he figure that out so easily? Am I that easy to read? Did I really say something that made it obvious? I didn’t think so. “What do you mean?”

“You’re being suspicious. What happened?” 

 I frown. What does he mean? Am I really being suspicious… No. “You’re suspicious… When do we not…” I look at Jungkook who’s still not paying attention. “seriously? When has there ever been a time where we didn’t…” I avoid saying the word fight. I don’t want Jungkook to know that we are talking about him.

“Well I asked you not to.” I can just see him crossing his arms, The way his voice has sped up, of course he's upset.  “Man I can't handle this, if you guys are going to hate each other the whole trip. Seriously you can’t suck it up and have a good time? Once? Literally that’s all I’m asking is for this one time…”

I clench my phone tighter, “Jin. To be honest you’re a liar.” I try to speak in a cool tone, still not wanting Jungkook to be paying me any mind. “One time? really? No it’s been the whole time, all the times. Fuck.” I take a deep breath. “What about what I asked of you? Mhm? Yeah you didn’t listen to that.”

“Well I’m older than you so…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway because nothing happened anyways, Well, nothing like usual so you can keep your assumptions to yourself. Bye I’ll see you in Greece.” I hung up the phone.

“So what was it that you asked of him?” I look over to Jungkook who’s staring down at me. I blink, why was he eavesdropping? I am a fool to think he wasn’t paying attention. “You know you’re sitting right next to me and it’s not like Iphone speakers are very quiet. So what was it that you asked of him?” He crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised. 

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” I lean back in my chair, “it was before we figured out it was a misunderstanding.”

“I still want to know.” He’s acting like a child. 

“Really? Why? We’ve already spent all day in silence and I’d rather you not hate me again.”

“We already covered that I never hated you in the first place.”

“Really Jungkook?” I roll my eyes. “Plus you’re the one who wanted to stop talking about it? So why are you asking now?”

He shrugs. “I wanna know.” A short breath comes from my nose while I contemplate what to tell him. It was cruel now in hindsight. But it was genuinely how I felt at the time. 

I shake my head , “I asked him to make sure I never saw you again.” I almost laugh cause it sounds so stupid. “Like, literally all the time I used to ask that, but a few months ago I genuinely asked him to stop inviting me if you were going to be there. And that’s when he planned this trip. One last big event before I boycotted you.” He stares at me, “Does that make you feel better?” I grind my teeth. “Not that you probably didn’t feel the same way.”

His eyes fell to the floor, his face softening. “Sorry.”

I squint, looking him over. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who’s being a bitch… again.”

His eyes roll over to me. “No, I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t hang out with your best friend.” He frowns, brows furrowed as he contemplates what to say. “That sucks”

“I’m sure you felt the same way…”

He shakes his head. “Not really. So, I’m sorry.” His eyes haven't left mine, and it’s making me uncomfortable. 

“I-If I can’t apologize.” I swallow, sitting back in my seat, avoiding that burning eye contact. “Then neither can you.” 

“I don’t think I did last night, so I-” he folds his hands together. “I’m really sorry for e-”

“No. You did apologize, so no more apologizing.” I pull out my headphones, “I forgive you so it’s fine.” And I plug them into my phone, shutting him out. 

He blinks, shaking his head and turning away from me. Doing whatever. While I sit here and wait. 

~

“Hey, we are boarding.” I blink, waking to Jungkook shaking my shoulder lightly. I yawn, grateful that I had managed some sleep, but knowing that I’d regret it on the plane ride. Planes are so awfully uncomfortable. We board slowly, waiting in line behind other people. I should have grabbed a coffee before we boarded, because now I feel so groggy. But maybe I would manage to fall back asleep. Four hours would be awfully boring if I didn’t. I guess I did download those movies though. 

“Do you want the aisle seat?” He asks as we scoot down the aisle. I shrug as we reach our seats. We couldn’t get an outside seat, so we are stuck in the middle aisle. “It doesn’t really matter to me.” He mutters, reaching up and sticking his bag in the overhead storage. 

“You’re taller, and wider.” I smile. “It’s fine I’ll take the middle.” He grins, “Who ever could have thought you could actually be nice to me.”

“I’m just being considerate.” I mutter, pushing my extra stuff into the storage as well. 

He squeezes past me, “Well so am I.” He takes the seat over, some guy already in the other seat. I squint, wondering if he’s being considerate or petty just to keep me from being nice. Or am I being petty too? 

I take my seat anyways, turning my phone onto airplane mode as the attendants go through the safety briefings. “But are you going to have to go to the bathroom?” 

He shakes his head, pulling his hoodie over his head. “Nope, I’ve got a strong bladder.” 

I take the hoodie as a sign he no longer wants to talk so I plug in my headphones and press on the horror movie I downloaded and brace myself for takeoff. 

Halfway through the flight I notice that Jungkook was asleep. It had taken him a little while, likely because of the uncomfortable seat. Or the random stranger that is sitting next to him and their loud chewing. Or that he is in a hoodie and it is really hot. 

Earlier in the flight I could tell he wanted to take it off, but for the sake of not bothering other people he left it on. For a while he watched an anime, but now he is sleeping. 

His hair is in his face, his breath hitting one strand that flutteres over his lips. I feel like waking him up as he is about to be leaning on the random stranger, but that feels wrong. He is really peaceful when he sleeps. Those same pretty lashes resting over his cheeks. 

The strings of a sharp violin jump up in my ear, making me jump and look back to my screen. I take a deep breath. What am I doing? I pause the movie. Maybe I can try and sleep too. I close my eyes, tucking my phone into my pocket. Ignoring whatever that was.

~

“Sorry, excuse me.” I open my eyes, Jungkook standing and attempting to squeeze between me and the chair. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, his tattooed arm reaching over my head. I furrow my brows, trying to press myself against the chair and out of his way. 

He had taken off his hoodie now, a tight button up shirt that fit around his muscles very nicely. Why would he wear that under a hoodie?

“You look very beautiful.” My eyes scrunch up as I glare at him. Is he being sarcastic? What a weird comment to make? “No really. I mean it.” 

I blush, why’s he saying this? On the airplane? While he’s hovering over all sexy like? What the fuck?

“Can I kiss you?” I stare at him, hands clenching the sides of my seat. What does he mean? I look over to the stranger who is surely as uncomfortable as me, but he is gone, as are all of the other passengers. It is just me and Jungkook. 

I flinch upon his hand at my cheek. “I asked you a question…” he smirks, my heart skipping a beat. 

I shake my head. “No, Jungkook? What the fuck?” I push him off.

“What the fuck? What’s that for?” I blink, seeing Jungkook still over me, back in his hoodie, the stranger sitting next to us staring. I look around, a couple of eyes staring at me. “I’m trying to go to the bathroom.”

I try to collect myself, was it a dream? I look up, catching Jungkook’s glare. “I’m sorry I-” He scoots out of the aisle. “I had a- a bad dream.” He looks at me in confusion before turning his head and heading down towards the bathroom. I sigh checking the time. So I managed to fall asleep… There is about thirty minutes of the flight left. What a relief. I pull the movie back out and decide the time will go by faster that way. Jungkook returns in no time, scooting back to his seat.

“So what kinda bad dream was it?” I turn my head to him, “You were pushing me pretty violently. Something traumatic happen to you that I should know about?”

I laugh light heartedly to hide my anxiety. To be honest or not? “Uh…”

Jungkook turns his eyes to slits, staring intently with a horrid grin. “You said my name. Ring any bells?”

I blink, “I- well. You tried to kiss me.” He laughs at this. 

“Really? And it was that bad?” He crosses his arms. “I mean damn you really shoved me into the chair of the person in front of you. It was that bad?” He teases. 

My mouth falls open, void of speech for a moment. “It’s awkward… It was weird.” I cover my face. “Wouldn’t it be weird if you had a dream where I tried to kiss you?” 

He ponders this for a moment, “You know… I think I’d let you.” He smirks, “Why not?”

“What do you mean why not?” I lean over, trying to maintain my whisper voice, I had already drawn too much attention to myself. “Thats-”

He shrugs, “It’s not like it’s real. No big deal.” He looks at me, expecting an answer. 

I fall back into my chair, “Well it felt pretty real so-” I fiddle with my shirt. “It’s not like you would know if it was real or not in the dream.”

“I guess you’re right.” He glances at his phone, the clock ticking oh so slow. He doesn’t say anything more. Leaving me wondering. Would he still let me? Why was that even a question in my mind? I press play on my movie, hoping for it to distract me. 

The plane lands and it’s extremely dark outside, the city lights blinking around us. Now that we finally landed I was feeling giddy, excited not only to be there but also to see Jin. 

The airport this time around was a lot harder to get around. Our baggage claim took twenty minutes in itself, poor Jin texting me from outside. But we were on our way out, needing to stretch and get some fresh uncirculated air. 

“Hey!” I look up seeing Jin waiting for us with an Uber. “Welcome to Athens!” He stretches out his arms, me rushing to be the first to greet him. 

“Jinniaahh.” I embrace him, missing his bear hugs. I reluctantly let go, giving Jungkook his turn as well. 

“How was the flight here? Not considering the fact that it wasn’t the original one you were meant to take.”

Jungkook beats me to an answer, “It was good aside from the fact that Eunjae tried to claim I assaulted her.” 

“No I-”

“It was embarrassing, everyone was staring.” He giggles, looking at me with a smile, and it isn’t meant to be conniving. He is only teasing.

I try to loosen up, not expecting him to be teasing so light-heartedly. He isn’t trying to be mean this time. Would I have to remind myself of that everytime he speaks? I smile, “Yeah it was embarrassing for me to.” I elbow him. “Everyone really was staring.” I pout at Jin, “I felt really bad.” 

“Did you now?” Jungkook’s lips curl to one side. “Can we get coffee?”

“Coffee?” I look at the clock, “Are you crazy? It’s almost two in the morning.” 

Jin looks at both of us, “What’s going on? Is this playful banter? Are you playing a prank on me?” 

I look at him, “What’s wrong with playful banter?” I tease Seokjin, “Isn’t it everything you ever wanted?” The uber driver helps us get our luggage into the trunk.

Jin glares at me, holding the door open for me. “I-”

“Everything you ever wanted.” Jungkook winks at him, getting in on the other side. 

Jin gets in the front seat, all of us in the car now. “Now I really think you’re faking it…”

I roll my eyes, turning an air conditioning nozzle towards me. “No Jinnie, just teasing you.” He hums and I can tell he’s not fully convinced. Not that I’m all that convinced either. 

We get to the airbnb by two thirty, and Jin is ready to pass out. Jungkook and I however are pumped, finally out of the plane and ready to explore Athens, it is a shame that we arrived so late. Here's to hoping that our jet lag won't ruin the day tomorrow. 

We pull our luggage into the little house and Jungkook and I are wide eyed. It is really nice, and I am sure it has to have five stars and incredible reviews. It is an open concept, the kitchen, dining, and living room are all connected, stairs at the door leading up to the three bedrooms. 

“Thank god we don’t have to share a bed.” Jungkook says, starting up the stairs with a smile. I shake my head pulling in my suitcase behind me. Not only is the inside open, but it is a full fishbowl style, all the windows open towards the city below. We’re up on a hill, trees surrounding the rest of the house for moderate privacy. But the view is beautiful. I wonder what it will look like at sunrise or sunset. 

“You guys shared a bed?” Jin asks curiously, opening up the fridge where he pulls out a water, tossing it to me and taking out another for himself. 

“Yeah… Was kinda weird. But there was only one room in the hotel we were at. Very very unfortunate.” I huff, “But I guess Jungkook didn’t have to let me stay with him. It was better than being on the street.” I laugh. 

“Mhm, is this why you’re being all buddy buddy?” He crosses his arms, taking a sip of his water. 

I shrug, opening up my own bottle. “I guess you could say that. I don’t know, we resolved some things.” 

“Well that’s a relief…” He sighs, “Why was it that you didn’t like him anyways?” 

I look at the ground. “It was dumb really… I’m sorry Jin.”

“No no, It’s fine. I’m just happy you guys can be civil.”

I nod, “Yeah…” Civil. I still feel awful about it. Jungkook really had done nothing after all. He said it himself: We can pretend that we were teasing each other. Had he been teasing me? Playful banter that I returned with malice. 

“You good?” I blink, Jin is still standing in the kitchen. 

“Yeah… I’m going to try to sleep.” I hike up the stairs, luggage in hand. 

“Goodluck,” He says following, and dipping into a far bedroom. 

I sigh, I will need that luck. Jet lag, and not to mention the fact that I already slept on the plane. It would probably not be a successful night's sleep. Both doors of the other rooms are closed, nice; Jungkook couldn’t have left me a clue to which room he had taken?

I knock on the door, and wait for anything. No sound so I open the door, peering inside. With a sigh of relief I walk inside. Tugging in the luggage after me. The bed looks so comfortable and suddenly the energy I thought I had was gone. 

“I claim this room.” I turn around, Jungkook barging in from behind with his suitcases in tow. I'm speechless as he hops onto the bed. 

“I was here first.” I look back out the door, wondering what is so wrong with the other room that he abandoned it. 

He raises his brows, looking over from the bed, “Well you didn’t claim it… I did.” 

“That’s childish.” I look around, deciding the other room won’t be that bad. “And I’m not so…” I walk out the door so I can take the other room.

“You are childish.” He nags. “Hey, close the door.” To which I ignore him and move on to my room. Which, like I thought, isn’t that much different than the other one. I check the bathroom though, which doesn’t have a shower. I sigh, so that’s why Jungkook must have taken the other one. It’s not like he can stop me from using his, unless he wants me to smell bad. Maybe Jin’s room has a shower too. 

I unpack a little into the small chest of drawers in the room, and plug in my phone. I make sure I have everything in order for tomorrow. What is it that we were doing tomorrow anyway? 

The first day on our itinerary had been ruined by the unforeseen storm in Georgia, but it’s not like it was strict. We could go to so many different museums or historical sites. Hopefully the other two will be just as interested in those as me. Too bad our other friend Joon didn’t come along. He’d love the art. 

Looking at the clock I decide it’s time for bed. I shut out my lights and tuck myself in. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but falling asleep is particularly tricky. What time were we waking up? Should I go ask Jin? No, he might have already fallen asleep. Surely we would sleep in? Jungkook might complain about going straight to the museums instead of something more exciting. What is it that he wants to do again? Surfing, oh yeah. But surely not on our first day after a tiring flight. 

I fluff the pillow that is already too hot. My back hurts from the flight and the bed isn’t proving to be as comfortable as I thought it would be. I wonder if the other bed is more comfy. Why’d Jungkook have to go right ahead and take it from me? He’d probably sleep in later than me too. What if Jin’s bathroom didn't have a shower and we both had to use the one in Jungkook’s room? Surely that would be absurd, Three bathrooms and one shower. No way. Not with five star reviews. There should be a shower in my bathroom too. The architect sucks. Brain shut the fuck up. I sigh into the sheets. They smell good. At least I can be sure that they are clean. I bet the floors are clean. If there was only one bed here, we could sleep on the floor and it would be way less disgusting than that of the hotel floor.

My throat is a little dry. I push myself out of the comforter. Is the ac on or Is it my high level of activity that is making me hot? I flip on my bathroom light just to see around me. Where is the thermostat? Downstairs probably. I pick up my phone and switch my flashlight on, waltzing through the hallway and down the stairs. What a house. A chandelier's crystals glimmer from my phone’s light above the stairs. How much would it cost to live in a place like this?

I don’t consider it, it is far above my salary. The kitchen is grand, meant for entertaining, a bar overlooking the living room below. Wow I’d kill to live here, my simple apartment is half the square footage, and not a speck of glamour shines there. Unless you count the prints of someone’s art I bought off of etsy. 

I scour the kitchen cabinets, finding lots of plates and dishes for serving. Ah yes, my hands find the cups which shine the reflection of my flashlight. The fridge dispenses ice and cool water which I down quickly. I sm more parched than I thought and I refill the cup a second time. Sipping on the second one I think about the bathroom again. Childish indeed. If I were as childish as he, I would have replied. I don’t see your name on it. But I didn’t… Though it was just playful banter. Did he really see it that way? Was he teasing me all those years? Certainly he did it just to spite me. Either way, it was out of spite of my malice when he had done nothing wrong. He didn’t mean all the little things he said? Was he really just joking? I never was… God I feel awful. Maybe I can hope that he thought I was joking. Which is unlikely. 

“Is it hot in here or-” I jump at the sound of his voice, the glass slipping from my hand and onto the floor. It shatters in the dark, pieces glimmering in the light that still shine from my phone. 

“Oh my god Jungkook!” I glare at him, yelling in a whisper, hoping that the sound of glass hitting the floor hadn’t woken Jin. What is his reasoning for creeping up on me in the dark? At almost 3:30 in the morning?

“Oh my god Eunjae.” His eyes widen, “You’re bleeding.” I look down to my foot, a piece of glass lodged into the side of the sole. 

“Oh my god.” I swallow, it is bleeding. Like a lot. “Oh my god…” I feel sick, blood pooling a little under my foot, I hadn’t even felt it at first, but now I do. “Oh-”

“Don’t freak out.” he says, his voice raised from his own panic. He looks around, flipping the lightswitch and blinding both of us. “Oh my god.” He’s spinning around the room, avoiding stepping on any glass. “Where’s a broom?” He says annoyed that he can’t step any closer. 

“Oh my god. Jungkook it’s bleeding all over.” I cry, looking for a towel or something, but I can’t move anyways because little pieces of the cup are scattered over the floor. “Oh fuck.” I look up, avoiding looking at it. How big is the piece? Will it stop bleeding? Will I need stitches? How can this trip get any worse? What if this ruins it? It’s bleeding a lot, the blood sticky under my heel. It hurts so bad, the sharp feeling throbbing as blood seeps out of the wound. “Please help!” I whine and he almost growls at me, searching in an open closet. 

“I’m fucking looking.” He runs around to the downstairs bathroom, eventually coming around with a broom and a dustpan. “Pick up your foot.” I shake my head, not wanting to move it. It hurts. He looks at me, annoyed and then more gently. “Please pick up your foot so I don’t accidentally touch it.” 

I sit back on a bar stool, my foot coming off the hardwood like a sticker. My stomach churns as blood drips down my toes to the floor. Jungkook sighs, sweeping up the floor around us until no shards are seen glimmering against the lights. 

“Oh my god I’m gonna throw up.” I whine, looking anywhere but my foot. 

Jungkook frowns, “please don’t it’s just blood,” but I can tell he’s not pleased with the look of it either. He takes some paper towels and tosses them on the floor where I had left a bloody outline of my foot. He hands me a rag that’s slightly dampened from the sink. 

“What?” I look at him in horror, “You think that I’m going to touch it?”

Exasperated, he shakes his head, “Do you expect me to? No, no. This is your foot. I’m not touching your foot.” “I- I can’t.” I look down at it, feeling queasy. And I feel hot tears run down my cheeks. “Please…” 

His nose scrunches as he looks at it again, “Man you are such a crybaby.”

“Do you want to have the glass lodged in you!” I threaten, wiping away my tears. “This is your fault anyway.”

With a sigh he takes my hand, pulling up my ankle. “Just press the rag here.” He gently sets my hand at the base of my foot, soaking up any blood that was still dripping down. “You don’t have to touch the glass.” He presses my hand slightly, the sharp edge still cutting me. “Just for a second, I’m going to go look for a first aid kit. Or something.” He pushes his hair back taking a quick breath before leaving me in the kitchen. 

The glass itself doesn’t seem too long. But without knowing how much of it is in my foot, I can’t gauge if I’ll need stitches or not. It is coming up about an inch from the skin. That is pretty long right? And it’s not coming right out if I move. Fuck. What if I can’t go surfing, or swimming or walking around for long periods of time because of this? I can’t forgive myself for ruining the trip not only for myself but for the other two. I’ll just be a burden. 

Jungkook comes back with a smile, “look they actually had stuff!” A wrapping of gauze, medical tape, and some sanitary wipes were in his hands. “I didn’t think they would.” 

I feel my heart racing, blood pumping to my foot, bleeding more and more. If it keeps bleeding it would need stitches. That’s how it works, right?

“You aren’t holding it tight enough.” He scoffs, taking the rag from me, and holding my foot more firmly. 

“Ow,” I wince, wanting to yank my foot away from him. 

“You’re just letting it bleed, dummy.” He frowns looking at it, and then whines, “Why does it have to be me?” He examines the glass, “And before you say anything, yeah I know it’s because I scared you so it’s my fault.”

“Sorry.” I mumble.

“Good you should be, butterfingers.” He reaches down for the glass, making me flinch. 

“Are you taking it out?” I cry, making his shoulders drop. 

“What else is there to do?” He looks annoyed, I’m one hundred percent getting on his nerves. But it’s not my fault. What if the glass is really deep? And what if the bleeding doesn't stop? “What’s wrong?” He asks and my eyes begin to water. 

“There’s a glass in my foot.” I clench my fists. How does he not see what’s wrong?

He huffs, with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, duh. That’s why I’m going to take it out. I can tell that you aren’t okay with it and I’m just wondering why.” He tugs on another bar stool, sitting across from me, and setting my foot on his knee. “What would you rather me do?”

“I- I don’t know.” I sniff, wishing I had a tissue. “Just, what if it’s really deep? And it doesn’t stop bleeding and then we have to go to an emergency room and then I’ll need stitches. It’s four in the morning and we’ll have to wake up Jin.” I take a shaky breath. “And then the trip is ruined. Part two.” I grind my teeth together, “I don’t want to ruin the trip…” 

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “God all that anxiety is all up inside you.” He nods, patting my ankle. “Yeah that might happen… but either way we have to take out the glass to find out.” Which is nothing but a fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m worried. “It’s gonna be fine, Eunjae. Things like this happen,” He smiles softly, revealing his little mole under his bottom lip. It had been hiding the majority of the trip, underneath a frown. “plus if the trip does get ruined, then you can blame it on me.” I smile through the pain, “yeah, that would make me feel better.” 

“Figured.” He turns his attention back to the glass. “Now I’m going to take it out, please don’t freak out. Look away or something.” 

I squeeze the counter bracing for the pain, “Don’t like, just rip it out.”

“Relax. I can promise you it’s going to hurt a lot more if you’re tense.” His voice is calming, even though I can tell that he's not exactly at ease himself. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. The glass shifts as his hands take hold. I tense despite him telling me not to. It pulls out fairly quickly and I can feel a gush of blood when it’s out. Jungkook cringes, and presses the rag against it. The sting worsens, and I can feel the throbbing throughout my whole foot. 

“Is it out?” I look down seeing the glass in his hand, slick with my blood. He wraps it in paper towels and throws it out. “How big was it?” 

“Like a third of an inch in there.” He shrugs, “that wasn’t that bad was it?” He holds tightly to my foot, the blood seeping through the rag. He lifts my foot, giving it some more elevation. 

“We’ll see.” I say shakily. 

“I’d say it was worse for me, since I had to touch your foot and take the glass out.” He sticks his tongue out, “feet are gross.” 

I rest my chin on my hand, trying to not pay any attention to my foot. “Yeah they are.”

“Eunjae, will you relax?” He pokes my shin, “You’re stressing me out.” 

“Were you really teasing me the whole time?”

He rolls his head back, “I didn’t want that to be our subject change. Really?” But it’s too late because my mind has been reeling all day. I just want to apologize, even if he doesn’t want me to. 

“Because I wasn’t joking. And if you were… that’s so shitty.” I frown, “And you said, we could pretend that we had teased each other the whole time. Were you doing that already?”

He tilts his head, staring at me. “I don’t know, sometimes.” 

I pout, “I thought you were just being mean.” 

He shrugs, “I mean I wasn’t teasing you to be nice.” 

“But you were teasing!” I look at him, and catch his eyes before looking away again. “I wasn’t. I was being mean to be mean.” 

“This conversation is just going in circles, you know that right?” His hand rests on my shin, and he squeezes it softly. “You were being mean because you thought I was being mean.”

I scoff, “That wasn’t what I should have done. I should have been nice even though I thought you were bad. I should have always been nice and maybe we could have found out that it was a misunderstanding sooner…”

“Well that’s not what happened and it's too late to change it now-”

“I just feel so awful, Jungkook.” My tears are falling again. “And- and I said some horrible things about you and to you… I am just so sorry.” My hand lifts to cover my mouth. Jungkook lets out a deep sigh, his eyes staring off at nothing. “I thought we weren’t apologizing anymore?”

I speak through the tears, “I’m sorry.” 

“Eunjae…” He rolls his eyes. “Come on. You can’t feel bad for the rest of our friendship.” But couldn’t I? “We both did things we shouldn’t have and now it's over. You’ve apologized, like ten times now and I forgive you. So please let’s move on.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how mean I was-”

“Well stop thinking about it because I don’t care.” He doesn’t let me respond and moves back to my foot, uncovering the cloth. I flinch at the fabric sticking to my skin. “Sorry.” he mutters, opening the package to the sanitary wipe. “See the bleeding has already slowed. We’ll just go surfing later in the trip.” 

“How do you not care? Because I care so much… and I don’t know how to stop.” I settle my breathing, “I wish I could take it back.”

He breathes in through his nose. “I care. I just don’t care about the things you said because I know that you wish you could take it back. You would never say those things again would you?”

“No” 

“That’s all I care about. Right now. That’s what matters.” He wipes the sanitary wipe gently around the cut. “I wish I could take things back too, but I can’t and I know that so all there's left to do is watch what I say now.” Carefully he wipes over the cut itself, and I clench my jaw. “So I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, that wasn’t my intention.”

“I know-”

“Let me finish please…” He says quietly, “I am sorry for calling you butterfingers, and stealing the bedroom with the shower.”

I almost laugh, “Really? You don’t have to apologize for that...” He glares at me, but I can tell he’s trying not to smile. “I’m sorry for returning your comments with snide remarks all this time. I should have known that you took them personally.” His face falls, “No, I did know that, I just didn’t care and I should have. So I’m sorry.” He looks up at me. 

“But you didn’t do anything wrong. I shou-”

“Eunjae just let me apologize.” He whines. 

I suck it up, nodding. “I forgive you. I-”

“Good good.” He interrupts, tossing the sanitary wipes away. “We both forgive each other and now we are going to be friends?” 

“I can’t tell if that's a joke or not.” 

He smirks, “I’m being serious.” All his attention goes to wrapping my foot in gauze. It uses up the whole wrap to keep it secure on my foot, he tapes it for the final measure of security, and sits up from his seat. “It’s so late, but I’m not tired at all.” I’m not tired either and it is already 4:30. Time is going by so fast. 

“If we don’t sleep we won’t be able to wake up for tomorrow.” I say, watching as Jungkook cleans up the floor. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you not to throw up.” The clean up is over and I get a new glass of water. “Now I can find the thermostat, I was sweating up there.” On the side of the wall by the fridge it waits for him. “Please don’t change.” The voice he uses to read the note is naggy. “It’s so hot though.”

“Just don’t wear a hoodie or sweatpants.” I mutter, helping myself stand. 

He looks offended, “What and sleep naked?” He shakes his head, turning off the kitchen light. 

“That is not what I said…” I squint. “Why do you have to be wearing such heavy things?” We make a slow trek up the stairs, Jungkook only talking to me who limps up each step. 

“Well normally I don’t really sleep with a lot of clothing on but this is not my own bed so.” 

“Just wear a shirt then…” 

“But hoodies are comfortable.” 

I smile, “yes they are.” 

“If I could I would wear hoodies all the time.”

“What about your tattoos? They would just be covered up all the time.” We finally get up the stairs, whispering as to not bother Jin. 

“Yeah that’s true, I just really think hoodies are comfortable.” 

I shake my head, “yeah I get it, but that doesn’t mean you have to burn up the whole night.” 

He fake pouts, pulling up his hoodie, “Since we can’t change the temp, I guess you’re right.” He lifts it over his head, his shirt going with it up his abs. I roll my eyes. Did he really just have to flash me? “Anyway, here.” He goes into his room for a moment, coming back with a pillow. “Here’s an extra pillow, put a couple under your foot to keep it elevated.”

I take it from him, “Yeah I know…” My lips purse together, and I glance into my room. 

“Try and get some sleep.” He smiles softly. 

“Hey Jungkook.” I breathe through my nose, and he hums. “Nevermind. It’s stupid.” My door creaks as I push it open to leave. 

“No- what?” He steps away from his room and toward me. Oh boy he’ll never let me live this down. 

“It’s humiliating -I” A blush creeps up onto my cheeks out of embarrassment. He gets closer, trying to regain eye contact. “Jungkook.” I look away. 

“Eunjae-” his fingers ghost over my chin, a hesitancy not hidden before his fingers clasp at my jaw. I swallow upon eye contact, his eyes scanning over my face. He winks, “Is this what it was like in your dream?” And then pulls away. 

“J-” my brows furrow. “Why’d you do that?” 

He raises a brow, “What were you going to ask me?” 

I shake my head. “No, no you answer me first, Why’d you do that?” 

He grins, “To tease you of course. Why else?” I glare at him, turning away. Not before he can grab my shoulder and flip me around. “No, what were you going to ask me?” 

I push him away, “No you ruined it. You’ll never know.” His face drops into annoyance. “Goodnight Jungkook.” I smile, limping backwards. 

“Eunjae I wanna know.” He whines as he always does, making me roll my eyes. “Please, I'd like to carry you around or something tomorrow… Just tell me.” He makes puppy dog eyes, hands folded together all prayer like. 

“No you’ve embarrassed me enough.” 

He groans, “I’ll buy your dinner too.” 

I sigh, that is a pretty good deal. “I was gonna ask-” My shoulders drop, and I’m not really believing that I am actually saying it outloud. “I was gonna ask if we could hug.” I glare. “There.”

He stares at me for a second. “That’s what you were going to ask me?” He looks almost amused. 

“See- I didn’t want to tell you.” I groan, my cheeks still flush. How embarrassing, why did I even say it out loud? “It’s stupid.” 

“No really- is that what you were going to ask me?” He softly chuckles, “that’s cute-” I shake my head, turning into my room. “No really Eunjae-” He stops me. “Is that really what you were going to ask?” 

“Yes!” I step backwards, my voice raised. “Why do you keep asking that? I just said it didn’t I?” Why does he have to humiliate me further? 

He sighs, “Stop doing that thing where you misunderstand me and get mad.” He steps towards me again. “You’re yelling and going to wake Jin up.” I look towards the bedroom Jin was staying in. He is right. God he is right. “Yes we can hug that’s a dumb question.” 

I frown, “It’s just- we never have before and-” 

“Yeah I know.” He smiles, pulling me into his chest before I can protest. “It’s because you are so repulsed by me.” His voice vibrates into my hair. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

I shake my head, trapped in his arms. “No I- I wasn’t” I look up at him, brows knitted together. “I’m not.” The guilt is brought back up again. I don’t want him to remember that. 

His eyes shine between those lashes, a grin plastered on his face. “Good.” his breath brushes over my face. “Cause it really sucked when I thought you did.” 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “It’s okay.” His eyes fall on my lips, is he thinking of actually kissing me or is he joking again? I blink, my eyes dropping to his chin. I could hug him tighter and say goodnight and then it would be over. 

But his thumb drags against my cheek, pulling my eyes back up to his. Agonizingly slow, his head tilts to the side, his hair falling over his face. That tattooed hand sits against my back, holding me in his embrace. His heart is beating really fast, but it matches my own. Would he notice that? He takes a long deep breath, pressing his forehead against mine, my heart skipping a beat. Why isn’t he doing anything? Only his eye contact is consistent. I bite my gums, wanting to look away. 

“I just want you to know that this time I’m not fucking around.” He whispers, leaning into my lips. His hand snakes around my neck, pulling me closer. His nose squishes against mine, lips soft and warm. The kiss I had missed in my dream. In an exhale he releases me from his tattooed arm. His eyes scan mine for a reaction. 

I didn’t know what to say. “Good” is what comes from my mouth. Another dumb thing out of my lips. “I- I meant”

He laughs, “Thanks” he pinches my neck making me shrug away. Jungkook's lips meet my cheek. 

“No I meant-” He shuts me up with another kiss, pulling me closer by my waist. 

“Better than in your dream?” He smirks, eyeing me up and down. 

“I meant that it’s-” Another kiss, his hand at the base of my neck, the other at my waist. He doesn’t let go so quickly this time. He smiles into the kiss. “Jungkook…”

“Okay,” he looks down at me, “go on.” 

“I meant that it’s good that you aren’t fucking around.” I sigh, finally getting to breathe as well as speak. “I- why?”

“Why not?” 

“I-”

He ruffles my hair, making me blush again. “I told you: I thought you were really cool. Mhmh. I do think that you’re really cool.” 

“I didn’t think that was code for you wanting to kiss me.” 

“You’re the one who had a dream about it.” he teases, “Now go to sleep, we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

The next day:

“God did you guys like fuck last night?” Jin looks disgusted at the two of us. I choke on my orange juice. Looking wildly between the two of them. 

“Where the hell did you get that idea?” I say staring deep into my breakfast. Did he have to make it more awkward? I barely even knew what to do next after last night. What was that? Are we going to date? Is it going to be casual? Will it never happen again? 

Jin squints, “Well, the tension in the room. I’m used to it with you too. But DAMN, it's never been so sexual.” 

Jungkook snickers, swirling around his drink “No. No we did not. Just first base.” He winks and my mouth drops. 

“Jungkook!” I throw a piece of toast at him, he really is going to expose us just like that?

He flinches, smiling. “I’m actually not sure what the bases are…” 

Jin runs his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”

“Good.” I huff, biting into my breakfast. “All you need to know is the directions to the Acropolis.”

~

Like this? This is a one shot from my A Year of Fics with Han series found

here

Happy Jungkook day everyone !! :P

Greece is on fire click here for more information

y’all pls follow me 😭 i’m posting for joons bday as well and then i’m in a fest rn for bts abyss fest which will be on ao3!!

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Relationship Stahl ~ Charlie Conway x Adam Banks

A/N: Hi all, I'm on my Mighty Ducks bullshit, so sorry not sorry. This is just for fun. It's postcanon - could be canon with the show. I don't specifically go against anything. But yeah. Enjoy this fic for a movie that came out over 25 years ago. *Posts fic and runs away*

Summary: Charlie and Adam are idiots. And they finally figure that out thanks to Charlie's pen pal.

Characters/Pairings: Charlie Conway/Adam Banks, Charlie Conway, Adam Banks, Connie Moreau, Guy Germaine, Fulton Reed, Gunnar Stahl

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: Language ( I think that's it)

^True love if I ever saw it ;)

Charlie grinned at his laptop as he fired off his enthusiastic response to the latest email from his pen pal before flipping open his phone. Instead of scrolling through his contacts, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“I literally just dropped you off,” his best friend laughed when he picked up on the third ring.

“And I couldn’t bear to be without you,” Charlie quipped back.

“What do you want, Charlie?”

Adam’s voice was undeniably fond and it made Charlie’s stomach flutter.

“How do you feel about going to the Wilds game on Saturday?”

“How’d you swing those tickets?”

Charlie shrugged even though Adam couldn’t see him. “I know a guy. So are you in? We can grab drinks with some of the ducks afterwards.”

He could practically hear Adam shaking his head and it made Charlie’s smile widen. He knew what his answer would be.

“Yeah, I’m in. Of course I’m in. I’ll pick you up at 5?”

“Sounds good.”

“Are the other ducks coming?

“I’m gonna see who’s around.”

“Alright. Can’t wait. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Charlie smiled at the question in his voice.

“Of course. I’ll call you after work.”

“Good night, Charlie.”

“Night. Banksy. Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Will do.”

Adam was wearing a Minnesota Wilds Jersey and a pair of tight-fitting jeans, when he knocked on the door of Charlie’s house.

He checked his watch. He was early.

He was always early.

Charlie probably wouldn’t be ready for another half hour, so he was surprised when the door swung open – at least until he saw Casey Conway’s smiling face.

“Adam, honey, how are you?” she cooed as she pulled him inside and into a tight hug.

“I’m great, Mrs. Conway. You’re looking lovely this evening.”

She swatted at him, but he saw her genuine smile. “Always a charmer.”

“How are you? How’s the diner?”

“I’m great. The diner is doing well. Business has really increased since we reopened after the renovations. We still have our regulars, but we’re getting more of a younger crowd too.”

“That’s awesome. And so well deserved.”

Adam could still remember when Charlie had sprinted into their college dorm room talking a mile a minute. He’d gleaned that there was a long lost uncle who’d passed and left his mother a rather large inheritance, and she was going to use that to buy out the diner that she’d been helping run for years.

Charlie had been so excited he’d nearly fell over because he forgot to breathe. Adam had spent the summer helping to paint and decorate the newly renovated diner.

“It’s been way too long since you’ve come over for dinner. Are you free next week?”

“Would Tuesday work?”

“Perfect. That’s my early night. And I’ll make your favorite pot pie.”

Adam grinned at the ceiling as he rocked back on his heels.

“You’re the best, Mrs. C.”

“Well, I won’t hold you up. I’m afraid I’ve already made Charlie late. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“See you then.”

She gave him another quick hug before scurrying out the door.

Adam sighed as he checked his watch.

“Hey, Spazaway. Hurry up or we’re gonna be late!” he yelled up the stairs.

“I’m coming! Relax, cake-eater!”

There were several thumps as Charlie hopped on one foot to get his shoe on and then a slam of his bedroom door, but by the time he made it downstairs he looked perfectly disheveled in a cool way instead of a sloppy way. Classic Charlie. It’d be irritating if it wasn’t so attractive.

“Hey, Banksy. See, 5:15 right on time.”

“I told you I’d pick you up at 5,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but we both know that at this point you tell me you’ll pick me up 30 minutes before we actually have to leave. So technically, I’m 15 minutes early,” Charlie grinned and slung an arm around his shoulder.

Adam huffed but couldn’t argue. Charlie was right. He’d learned a long time ago never to trust Charlie to be punctual, so he had started telling him earlier times in the hope that they’d actually arrive places before the events were over.

“It’s gonna be a great night.”

“Are any of the others coming?”

“Connie, Guy, and Fulton. Everyone else was busy.”

“That’ll be fun,” Adam admitted as he climbed into the car.

Secretly, he’d kind of been hoping that it would just be him and Charlie, but he shoved that thought away. It would be good to go out with some of his oldest friends.

“Yeah. It will.”

The five ducks were happily chatting and catching up, laden down with food as they waited for the game to start.

Guy was the first to notice the name after the national anthem.

“Do you think Stahl is the same one we faced from Iceland?”

“I don’t know,” Adam shrugged. “How common of a name do you think it is?”

“Remember when you had that massive crush on Gunnar, Charlie?” Connie teased before taking a sip of her soda.

“I didn’t have a crush on Gunnar.”

“You so did,” Fulton laughed, nudging. “How many hours did you spend watching tapes of his signature shot?”

“That was research,” Charlie insisted, though his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Yeah, you definitely needed to spend all that time on just Gunnar Stahl and not the rest of Iceland,” Guy faux agreed with an exaggerated wink.

Adam remained quiet. He remembered Charlie’s “not a crush” all too well. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but he’d been jealous at the time.

At first it had been, look at this shot. Or look at this play.

And then after the games it was, he’s so nice and cool. He called me ‘Captain Duck’.

Charlie hadn’t shut up about him until they were on the plane home and he promptly knocked out on Adam’s shoulder. Number ninety-nine didn’t have it in him to be jealous when he got to have a sleeping Charlie Conway on top of him.

Tuning back into the conversation after his quick jaunt down memory lane, Adam realized they were still ribbing Charlie.

“Okay, fine. I might have had a little crush on him. I was young. I was still figuring myself out,” Charlie admitted.

“Figures your first crush would be on a hockey player,” Fulton pointed out.

“Who said he was my first crush?”

Adam swore Charlie’s gaze darted to him, and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Well you literally never talked about anybody else like that before him,” Guy said.

“Except Banks,” Fulton added.

The three of them looked at Adam and he knew he was bright red. They all knew he’d had a crush on Charlie when they were kids. And that he still sort of had a crush on him. He could kick Fulton right now, and he would have if Charlie wasn’t sitting in between them.

“I still talk about Banksy all the time.”

“I’m right here,” Adam finally managed to grumble.

Charlie grinned and nudged him with his shoulder, before throwing an arm around him.

“Are we really gonna sit here and argue over who I did or did not have a crush on twenty something years ago?”

“Yes.” The other three nodded emphatically.

Charlie rolled his eyes.

“Alright fine. Yes, I had a crush on him. But laugh all you want. You have that crush to thank for these seats,” Charlie reminded them smugly.

“What do you mean?” Adam choked out as the others gasped.

Charlie looked at the four flabbergasted ducks in confusion.

“Gunnar got me the tickets. I thought you guys knew.”

“We didn’t know that,” Guy nearly shouted.

“You kept in touch with him all these years?” Connie asked softly.

Their captain shrugged.

“We were pen pals. And now we email every few weeks.”

Adam’s heart clenched in something that felt a lot like jealousy – a lot like when he was 14. He turned his attention to the game, Stahl was on the ice. Adam couldn’t help but track his movements. It had been years since he moved like that. Another squeeze.

It was going to be a long night.

Charlie noticed the instant Adam went rigid, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, he was the one being teased for a 20 year old crush that only lasted for a minute.

He tried to nudge his best friend and get a response, but Adam’s eyes were glued to the game. That wouldn’t have worried Charlie, but the tight set of his jaw was nothing like his usual relaxed joy at the games. That was one of the reason Charlie had made it a point to go to as many hockey games with Adam as he could. He loved to observe him while he watched the game. But right now, his expression was stony.

When Gunnar managed a hat trick early in the third, Adam abruptly excused himself, saying he needed to go to the bathroom.

“What’s up with Banks?” Fulton voiced Charlie’s question aloud.

Charlie shrugged. “No clue.”

Connie rolled her eyes.

“Boys. He’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“God, Charlie, are you that oblivious?”

His brow furrowed and he stared at her.

“What are you talking about?”

She huffed and shook her head.

“Nope. If you can’t figure it out after 25 years, you’re on your own.”

Adam was less grumpy, but still pretty sedate when he returned with only a few minutes left to go.

“You alright?” Charlie asked in a low voice as he settled back into his seat.

“Yeah. All good. Long line for the bathroom.”

Charlie didn’t believe him, but shrugged it off as the Wilds managed a late game comeback and beat the Anaheim Mighty Ducks and they were all on their feet cheering.

The five of them waited outside the side exit where the players would come out for Gunnar. The former Iceland captain signed a few autographs before he caught sight of Charlie and waved, flashing him a big smile.

“Good to see you, Captain Duck!” he shouted as he pulled Charlie into a tight hug.

“Good to see you too, Gunnar. Nice playing tonight.”

“Thank you.” Gunnar turned his attention to the rest of the Ducks. “It’s good to see you all too.”

There were various murmurs of agreement, before an awkward silence fell.

“Drinks?” Charlie finally suggested.

“Definitely.”

Drinks helped. Everyone loosened up by the second round. Even Adam, though he was not that talkative. He could see why Charlie would have kept in touch with the Icelander. He really was quite charming.

That did not help.

When Charlie stepped away from the table to get another pitcher, Gunnar slid into his vacated seat. Adam panicked for a moment. Guy and Connie were deep in conversation and Fulton had gone to the bathroom, it was just the two of them.

“You know, Captain Duck still never shuts up about you.”

“Still?” Adam asked, fixated on the word.

“At the Goodwill Games, when we spoke for the first time at the closing ceremony, Charlie wouldn’t stop raving about you. How he’d been worried about you being hurt. He even glared at Sanderson. And in his letters, he always talked about you. In every single one. I think I knew more about how you were doing than I did about him.”

“Sorry?”

Adam had no idea how to respond. Gunnar chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s sweet. I’m glad the two of you have made it this far. You’re a good pair.”

Adam’s jaw dropped and he floundered for an answer.

“Thanks?”

“Thanks what?”

Of course Guy chose that moment to resurface from his conversation.

“For saying I played well back in ’94,” Adam lied unconvincingly.

Charlie’s return halted the conversation, and Adam couldn’t help but think about what Gunnar had said. Why would Charlie be talking about him? Did Gunnar think they were together? Why did Gunnar think they were together?

His head was spinning. And it definitely wasn’t the alcohol. Per usual, it was all Charlie Conway’s fault.

Charlie was playing with the edge of his jersey when Adam pulled up to his house.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” he offered.

“Yeah, sure,” Adam agreed.

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

Charlie had been expecting him to bail. That was what Adam did when things got tense between them, so his easy agreement caught him off guard.

He pulled two beers from the fridge and took a moment to steel himself before rejoining Adam in the living room.

“It was a great game.”

“Yeah. Ducks were smart when they got Gunnar.”

“Definitely.”

“So, why didn’t you tell any of us that you were still talking to him?”

The former captain tried to gauge Adam’s mood, but he was surprisingly nonchalant.

“I didn’t really think about it. When we were writing actual letters, I’d get one maybe three times a year. So it just never came up. And then we started emailing and it was just something I did. It never seemed like a big deal.”

“So it’s not because you’ve been carrying a torch for him all these years?” Adam asked shyly.

The laughter that bubbled out of Charlie was loud and somewhat alarming.

“Of course not, Banksy. I mean, yes, I had a crush on him. For what seems like five seconds at this point in our lives. He’s just someone I liked to keep in touch with. Another person to talk hockey with. Honestly, I thought we’d last like two letters and then never talk again.”

“Have you seen him before?”

“No. Tonight’s the first time I’ve seen him since we left the games. This isn’t some big torrid affair I’ve been hiding. It’s a pen pal. Who got us tickets to a Wilds game.”

“That was pretty cool.”

“Are we good?”

Adam nodded. “We’re good. Sorry, it was just unexpected.”

“That’s fair. I really thought I had told you guys at some point over the years. Sorry I sprang it on you… unintentionally.”

“No worries.”

It was comfortable for a bit. Charlie put on ESPN and they caught the highlights from the other games that had been played. Somehow he ended up leaning heavily into Adam’s side.

“Was he your first?” He asked as the commentators went over the same play for the third time.

“Was who my first what?” Charlie asked, letting his head loll to the side so he could look at Adam without pulling away.

“Was Gunnar your first crush?”

It came out in a sigh.

“No. He wasn’t.”

“Who was it?”

“Guess.”

“Charlie.”

“I’m serious. Guess. I’ll even give you 5 questions to try and figure it out.”

Charlie wasn’t going to admit it without a fight, and Adam knew it. Curiosity got the better of him.

“Fine. Was your first crush a hockey player?”

“Yes.”

“Someone on our team?”

Charlie nodded, sitting up so he could watch him more closely.

“Boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“Peewees or Goodwill Games?”

“Met him in Peewees. Realized I had a crush on him during the Goodwill Games.”

“Did he go to Eden Hall?”

“Yes. I even roomed with him at one point. That’s five. Time to guess.”

He was certain he’d know now.

“Fulton?” Adam asked innocently.

Charlie hung his head.

“You cannot possibly be this obtuse, Banksy.”

“What? You met him in Peewees, he was with us at the games and at Eden hall and you roomed with him sophomore year.”

“Christ,” he huffed. “It’s you, Banksy. Not Fulton. God, definitely not Fulton. He’s like my brother. It’s you.”

“Me? You had a crush on me?”

“I mean, can you call it a crush if it lasts 25 years?”

Adam’s jaw hit the floor.

“You still have a crush on me?” His voice was small, so much like that 10 year old who’d been forced to leave the Hawks. But there was hope.

Charlie, momentarily panicked before resigning himself to his fate. It had to come out.

“No, Adam. I don’t have a crush on you now.”

His best friend deflated slightly.

“I’m in love with you now. I have been for as long as I can remember. Even if I didn’t realize it. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way –“

“I do. Feel the same way. God, Charlie. I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

“Seriously?”

Adam nodded once, resolutely before Charlie’s lips were on his.

The kiss was quick and hungry and it left them both wanting more.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Charlie demanded in a whisper as he pulled back, touching their foreheads together.

“Why didn’t you?” Adam sniped back.

“Touche. God so much lost time.”

“We didn’t lose anything, Charlie. We were together. That’s never a loss.”

“I love you, Banksy.”

“I love you too, Charlie.”

A/N: Yeah so I love them. I hope you enjoyed this. I stand by my theory that Charlie had a brief infatuation with Gunnar Stahl. Thanks for reading!

[leias-rebelion]

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.”

jdkfjdkd with whoever

te mando besos 💓

I bet on losing dogs, a Javier Peña drabble.

Summary: You find out about Javier’s involvement with Los Pepes.

Warnings: the big sad with a hopeful ending, smocking, no beta.

Note: thank you so much for the prompt! I had sort of a hard time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it. I listened to I bet on losing dogs by Mitski on a loop while writing this.

Javier lays on bed next to you.

But is he really there?

His body is warm next to yours, messy dark hair resting on the pillow as the softest of the snores escape his lips.

He hasn’t slept on 40 hours.

You haven’t either, and you can’t sleep now.

Because you know it, you feel it in your bones.

Everything is going to shit.

The chase of Escobar is growing hotter by the second. Connie took her baby back to the states (not that you can blame her). More bloody bodies turn up at the ER to be pronounced dead. Steve is a mess and Javier has withdrawn into himself so much, he’s barely there.

You just look at him.

You wish you could crawl up inside of him, to soothe his pain from his belly to the roughness of his skin.

You know he’s hiding something.

At first you thought he was fucking his informants again.

But there are no condoms in his jeans, no perfume lingering on his shirt or suspicious lipstick stains.

Not a hair out of place.

So you wonder.

The cigarette feels odd in your hand. It’s a terrible habit, abandoned before you even finished university, but here you are: Wearing you robe, staring at the ceiling of the living room while smoke dances around you.

It’s your free day tomorrow, it doesn’t matter.

-

“Baby?” Javi’s voice is rough with sleep. “What are you doing?” He rubs his eyes, heavy with sleep before turning the lights on.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“It’s been a couple of rough days,” You shrug, inhaling the cigarette smoke.

“You are supposed to swallow it,” He notes as he sits next to you on the couch.

“I’m a shit smoker, so what?”

Javier pries the cigarette from your hands and takes a drag.

A beat of silence.

“Javi, if there was something going on, you would tell me, right?”

He suddenly looks very nervous.

“You know I would never betray you.”

He nods and swallows, you narrow your eyes at him.

He knows you know.

“Please tell me why,” you pause to take a deep breath. “A patient at the clinic told me you are getting in bed with the Castaño brothers.”

He’s silent, and so are you.

“How do they know?”

You appreciate that he isn’t denying it.

“Javier,” Your voice is tight. “I’m the doctor that goes to bad parts of town to prescribe birth control. You know that most men act like women are stupid, like they don’t know what’s going on around them, maybe you think like that now too, since you’ve been spending so much time with fucking narcos.” Your voice is getting shriller by the second.

And you don’t care.

Javier is staring at his hands.

“Javier, ¿En que cresta te metiste?” // Javier, what the fuck did you get yourself into.

“Baby,” Javier whispers softly, taking your hand in his.

“Sometimes, to catch bad people you have to do bad things.”

Your eyes water.

“Great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” You snatch your hand away.

“Baby...” He whispers, eyes slightly damp as tears fall down on your cheeks.

“Does Steve know?” You demand, standing up. Arms crossed over your chest.

“Of course not.” Javier bites.

“Javier,” You take a breath, trying to control your tears and the broken tone of your voice. “You are going somewhere I can’t follow.”

“I know.” He’s soft, tears rolling freely now.

“I can’t do this.” You whisper.

“I can’t blame you, that’s why I didn’t tell you on the first place.”

You imagine all the ways it could go wrong, most of your mental scenarios end up with Javier in federal prison.

“Baby,” He sighs. “I don’t want you to follow me there.”

You sob.

“What are you saying?”

“I love you, but I need to finish this.”

He looks so calm, even when he’s crying. He’s sure of his choices.

“Get out.” You bark, “I can’t see you now, I don’t want to ser your face.”

He silently moves, puts some clothes on and heads out.

He accepts his fate.

-

A couple of days later you knock on Steve’s door. He opens the door, not looking completely surprised to see you. It was bound to happen.

“Hi Steve,” You crush him into a hug. “Can you give me 5 minutes with Javi?”

“Sure, I was heading out to get food anyways.” He winks at you, obviously assuming you were going to take Javier back and make out on his couch.

“Hi pretty.” Javi greets you shyly.

“Hello Javier.” You pull him into a hug, savoring the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne.

“I know you wanted me to tell you when.” He begins, he just said he wanted to see you over the phone. “I wanted to say it to your face.”

You nod.

“In two days, I go.”

You nod again, tears pooling on your eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

You take a deep breath.

“Listen to me, cabrón.” Your tone is so harsh in contrast to your tears, “Don’t get yourself killed, come back.”

He nods with watery eyes.

“We’ll clean up the mess when you come back.”

“I can’t let you take the downfall with me.”

“Shut up, that’s my choice.”

And you kiss him.

All teeth and tongue, desperate hands tugging on his hair, on your waist.

“I love you, pretty.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

You don’t hear from him in 4 months.

“I got sent back to the states.”

“Do you think they’ll fire you?”

“I don’t know, pretty.”

“Well, let me know if I need to buy a one way plane ticket.”

“Are you serious?”

“I told you, we will clean the mess up together.”

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [9] [END]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint

↳  Word count: 2,857

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | You Are Here!

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TUESDAY - 9

Day by day, things got steadily worse. Your body was constantly giving out, you had trouble breathing, and whenever you ate something, you always managed to throw it back up. The weight loss and iron deficiency you had developed after the last periods you’ve had led to four clinic visits and one hospital scare. You tried to play it off to your boss, but enough was enough and you knew you were going to be let go.

It took a lot of thinking, but you had finally decided to do what you had to. So, there you stood, taping the last box closed. You had sold your final possession besides your bed and your oldest camera, handing the sealed box to the buyer who had been standing in your kitchen. “Thank you,” he said, smiling gently at you. “This is gonna make my daughter really happy. I…” he cleared his throat awkwardly; “I hope that you get better soon.” 

You nodded, holding your breath for a moment to avoid coughing in his direction. “Of course. I hope she uses that camera well, it helped me a lot when I started college.” 

After he left, you looked over the bare-boned atmosphere of your apartment. Your coffee table was gone, your bookshelf, your easel. Your little television, table and chair, and nearly all of your glassware and cutlery had been sold as well. Walking into your room, the only things that were left were your tote of movies with all of Mark’s cards and letters tucked inside, and a backpack with a second outfit, toiletries and your camera stuffed in it. Even your bed was stripped just to the bottom sheet, the summer hot enough and your fever high enough that you didn’t need blankets anyway. Today was finally the day you had finally procured enough money for a plane ticket, a one-way trip that hopefully would relieve the pain in your heart and the crushing pressure in your head. 

While you lay in your bed, waiting for the night to pass, your phone, one of the last things you had to keep with you, buzzed. Rhiannon: How are you doing

You: I can never tell anymore

Rhiannon: Johnny, Hyuckie and I are going to meet you at the airport tomorrow. Mark’s getting pretty bad

Worry filled your chest, and you frowned at your screen.

You: Is he going to be okay? Rhiannon: we don’t know. He’s completely bedridden, I just hope that you don’t end up that way before your flight. I’m worried that they might not even let you on. 

You: I have to try

Rhiannon: I know…  

Rhiannon: I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you

You: I miss you too. 

At this point, getting onto your flight was the least of your worries. After putting down your phone, you mad managed to get about ten minutes of rest before you had to run to your bathroom to throw up the measly dinner you had put together with the small food budget you had set for yourself. Once you were sure your stomach had settled, you went back into your backpack and pulled out your toothbrush, returning to the bathroom to clean out your mouth.

Looking into the mirror above your sink, you noticed how bad you had really gotten. Your cheeks were hollow, your skin pale and underneath your sunken eyes were the works dark circles you’ve ever had. You brushed as slowly as you could, hoping that you wouldn’t start to feel nauseous again. After spitting and rinsing out the sink, you decided that maybe it would be better to just get up and go to the airport now. 

You left your house key for the landlord on your kitchen counter with a note about where the spare was, stepping outside and locking the house with the spare, hiding it under your doormat before heading toward the elevator and beginning your journey. 

Occasionally you’d lose your footing, your balance off and your legs weak. You would grab onto the wall to steady yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out. About an hour of subway and streetcar riding, you finally made it to the airport. It was chilling to see so many eyes on you. You knew that coming in this condition would get you multiple looks and passing disgusted faces, but you felt like you were passed feeling embarrassed. The teller looked at you sympathetically when you asked for the Delta non-stop flight to Incheon.

“Soulmate?” She asked, tilting her head curiously when you slid her your ID and your debit card, all of the money you had from selling your things on it. Just enough to pay for your ticket. 

“Yeah. Almost two years since I’ve seen him.” “My God,” she gasped, typing away on her keyboard. “It’s good you’re going now, I could never survive being away from my soulmate for that long. I was away from mine for a month when he was on a business trip and I was hospitalized!” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you rasp, watching her smile sadly in your direction. “I hope things go well for you. Have a safe flight to South Korea.” She slid your ticket, debit card, ID and itinerary over her desk, watching you slowly reach out to grab it. “Get lots of rest when you land.” “Thank you, I’ll try.” Feeling a little more pleasant after being wished well, you continued on your way. Through customs, the security check and the passport check, you did your best to keep back any coughing and the creeping feeling of nausea that was beginning to overwhelm you. Finally, you arrived in the boarding area, taking a seat with your bag on the floor, in between your knees. It was still a while before your plane would even arrive, so you plugged in your phone and decided to watch a movie. 

Night crept over the lounge, the windows displaying a slowly setting sun. After your movie ended you kept yourself occupied by watching the planes come and go until the tarmac was lit up with guiding lights that looked like stars. 

‘Flight from Toronto to Incheon nonstop now boarding.’

Finally.

You stumbled along and waited in your line, looking at your seat number. It was near the back of the plane, which would be loud, but at least it was close to the bathroom. The boarding attendant gave you a look with squinted eyes, but he still scanned your ticket, looked at your passport and let you go through.

Down the hallway, your legs gave out and your body clattered to the floor. “Hey, are you alright!?” Someone behind you came running up, gently taking your arm and helping you off the floor. “Jeez, you just toppled over!” She observed you, holding you steady. “You’re nothing but skin and bones…” “Sorry,” you apologize, hoping that you’d stay upright when she let your arm go. “I haven’t been doing the best lately.” “That’s okay,” she assured you. “Don’t you worry one bit.” Cautiously, she began walking with you, holding out her hands as if she was expecting you to fall again. “Why are you here and not at home, resting?” 

“I, well... this is soulmate sickness,” you explain cautiously. “My soulmate is doing worse than I am, and I decided to sell everything I own to buy a one-way ticket. I’m going to see him.” 

“Man,” she breathed, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

You let out a small, hollow laugh. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” “What seat are you?” “39-A.” 

“Oh,” she smiled at you, just as the plane entrance was coming into view. “I’m 39-B! I’ll help you put your backpack up, okay?”

“Thank you,” 

She smiled at you. “My pleasure.”

The hostess greeted you both when your new friend helped you board, watching with stunned eyes as you passed her. You both made your way to the back of the plane. You slipped off your backpack and she put both hers and your carry on into the compartment above you. “Do you want the window seat, or will that make you nauseous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with an empathetic smile. “Would you be okay with switching? I’m supposed to have the window, but..” 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! Here, sit down with me.” Once you both were seated, she held your hand. “So, what’s your name?” 

“It’s (Y/N),” you answer slowly, giving her a smile when you feel her hand take yours. It had been so long since someone had given you any physical affection. “I’m Nia,” she grinned. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After the plane took off, Nia did everything she could for you. She made sure you had a blanket, water, and she even had wipes in her purse that she kept on your forehead to make sure your fever stayed down. Nia talked with you about her boyfriend, showing you part of her scar that was on the back of her neck. She told the story about the last time she was in Korea, lost and out of her depth. Wonseo, her soulmate, had bumped into her, not paying enough attention to avoid her when she stopped to try and read a street sign. She, in turn, had a scar on her back and on her scalp, while his, funnily enough, was on the top part of his chest and his nose.

When you told her about meeting Mark and your own scar, her happy grin only seemed to grow wider. “I’m a fan,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up with media because before he stopped his activities, he started wearing that Star Wars sweater everywhere. Everyone knew it was from you since the first time he ever had it with him was in Pearson two years ago. I knew I recognized you, but dang, girl. You look terrible compared to then.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I tend to stay away from it all now, it just stresses me out.” She nodded understandingly. “Have you thought about the Gold Ceremony? Wonseo and I are actually in the process of planning ours, and I’m on my way home from meeting a bridesmaid that still lives in Canada.” 

“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” you answer honestly. “It’s all so nerve-wracking, don’t you think?” 

Nia shrugged. “I suppose your situation is a little different from everyone else’s, so I understand the aversion. I love the romance of it all, you know? Gold coating your scars so that everyone can see it as a sign of your commitment? Ah, it’s so exciting!”

“Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask him,” you say quietly, smiling at Nia. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, girl. Having your entire chest exposed to everyone around you may be a little weird even if you are getting married, y’know?” 

You chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.” 

You kept little conversations going, occasionally stopping to take small naps. The two of you also exchanged numbers, and you felt happy that you had made a new friend. Eventually, daylight began to peek through the windows of the plane, signalling the time change and that you would soon arrive in Korea. 

Truthfully, no matter what Nia did for you, you only felt worse. You smiled and held back your nausea, but you could feel that as every moment passed, you declined further and further into your sickness. When the flight landed, you were happy that the sense of vertigo was gone, but you weren’t sure how long you would last without passing out. “Want me to help you through customs?” Nia asked once the seatbelt sign was turned off. She helped you stand, taking down your backpack for you and securing it on your shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” you said quickly, grasping the seats as you made your way up to exit the plane.

“You’re far from that,” Nia reassured. “I won’t be able to stay with you the whole time, I just want to make sure that you make it to the people waiting for you okay. You said three of your friends were coming to meet you?” “Yeah,” you nod, thanking the hostess quietly as you pass her. “Thank you, Nia.” “Anything for a friend.” Slowly but surely, Nia helped you through the check-in and declaration stations, leading you through each step. Once you both got your passports checked, she turned and smiled at you. “I have to go get my suitcase now. Be safe and keep in touch, okay?” Nia hugged you ever so gently, before waving and taking her lead in the opposite direction you were to go, making her way to grab her suitcase off the conveyer. 

“See you,” you called behind her, steeling your nerve. You could make it. While you could barely read the directions with your now blurring vision, you managed to make it to the meeting area. Just barely in your line of sight were Rhiannon, Donghyuck and Johnny, holding up a rainbow sign with your name on it. You felt your chest flare-up, and if it was due to your sickness or your happiness you couldn’t tell, but you still began making your way toward them, smiling and waving.

That was until your body finally gave in. ~ “(Y/N)!” Rhiannon immediately dropped the sign and made a beeline for you as you toppled to the ground, Johnny and Donghyuck not far behind. She grit her teeth, doing her best to turn you over and hold you.

Donghyuck reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, ready to call an emergency number if Rhiannon couldn’t determine that you were breathing. He sighed with relief, luckily the airport was mostly empty and nobody would crowd you. “Is she okay?” Johnny knelt down beside her, looking on with worry. Rhiannon quickly checked your pulse and held her hand above your mouth. “Seems like she just passed out, she’s still breathing.” She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest. 

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. “We should get her home, then. I’ll carry her, you grab her backpack.” 

Rhiannon nodded and slowly took your backpack off while Johnny picked you up. “Let’s go.” 

~

Everyone was waiting in the living room for Johnny and Rhiannon to return with you, after hearing them explain what happened when Taeyong called to check-in. They knew they couldn’t tell Mark about what happened since his condition was not much better. He was in his room, nearly unaware of everyone sitting and waiting with bated breath. Yuta and Jungwoo stood up quickly when the door handle turned and opened, revealing Rhiannon and Donghuck. Johnny followed in close behind, you in his arms, barely conscious.

“Hi, everyone,” you rasped, smiling as best you could, with lidded eyes. 

“(Y/N),” Doyoung stood. “We’ve all missed you.” 

“Yeah,” Jungwoo agreed. “We’re glad you’re home.” 

“Thank you,” your words were soft, laboured. “Where’s Mark?” You looked up at Johnny tiredly. Johnny smiled gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.” 

You did your best to stay awake, suddenly beginning to feel a little better. Soon you both came across a door, the door slightly ajar. Johnny pushed it open gently with his foot.

“Guess who’s here?” He called into the room, and as soon as you lay eyes on Mark, you felt both simultaneously happy and guilty. Mark was skin and bones like you were, hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He was shivering as he struggled to sit up, large and thick blankets slowly shifting as he moved. “(Y/N),” he said, his lips forming the most endearing smile. “(Y/N), you’re here,” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Johnny carried you to Mark’s bed, gently placing you down next to him in the spot where he had just barely pulled back the blankets. You had your head laying on Mark’s chest as soon as Johnny put you down, Mark’s arm immediately wrapping around you. You both breathed in a deep sigh of relief, and you felt your nose beginning to clear up. “You could probably use some water. I’ll be back.” Johnny quietly left the room, and as soon as the door shut, you couldn’t think of anything to say. 

You felt life coming back to you, but the long flight and the months of hardship still weighed heavy on you. You knew that this was your condition because you were struggling, and you had just sacrificed everything to be here. Now, on top of being sick, you were dirt poor. But, at least you were with your soulmate, and at least you were with all of your friends. At least you finally felt like you weren’t dying. “You can sleep,” you hear Mark whisper as he moved his other arm to touch your face. “I can tell you’re tired.” 

You smiled weakly. “Okay, as long as you sleep too.” Mark laughed softly. “Agreed.”

Not long after, the door creaked open once again. Johnny had come back with a glass of water, followed by Rhiannon. Johnny placed the glass of water on the nightstand next to your bed, while Rhiannon watched you and Mark sleep for a moment, holding the small framed photo in her hands, the one that started it all. She placed it next to the glass of water, adjusting it so you would see it when you woke up.

“Sleep well.”

[katekyo-hitman-aus]

Guided Sky (?)

Au where Tsuna accidentally meets Skull and ends up traveling all across the world while doing schooling with Skull. The baby just accidentally got lost in Japan while he was on break for a while after he went to Disneyland.

Lucky baby, the boy thought while burying his face in homework he never understood.

To add more salt to his wounds, Nana actually hired him in order to be a tutor! And oh he was smart. Everytime Tsuna tried to outsmart him, Skull would just point out the plot holes and make Tsuna question everything he did. 

The baby had the mind of an adult and it freaked him out and only him since babies could become this smart at the age of 1! Everyone ignored the fact that Skull could also do things not even adults could do like flip off of a rooftop without breaking his little baby ankles.

The baby was exhausting as hell and gave him heart attacks everytime he did something for his “job” in the first 2 weeks even in school. It would nearly kill the kid every time Skull followed a teacher or peer classmate without any problem. Including his bullies! 

Tsuna went along with Skull’s antics only because Skull’s presence made it less likely for Tsuna to get in trouble or bullied. It started happening the day after he got sick, due to his bullies dumping toilet water on him. Skull was very calm that day and left him to his own devices for once.

But Tsuna’s tutor was 90% a wild kid despite his IQ. And to make things even more bizarre, Tsuna’s grades were gradually climbing up which was a miracle. Skull gave him a box of treats on golden week for passing all of his exams with a 70 or higher. He used to get 20’s and 10’s as a reference….

Skull shuddered at his previous scores before he dragged the young kid and Nana to some nice places in Japan that even Nana never knew about. 

They all got to wind down and have fun in all the attractions, even Nana started acting like a kid. It was a common occurrence to see the son and mother running around in some other city for an hour or two before actually shopping around. As usual, nobody noticed the purple baby or thought the baby was a creepy doll in every city they went to. 

It was the best week ever. Skull got a cat ear umbrella set with pastel raincoats for the 3 of them (Skull used it as a robe). And the food was amazing! Skull even hooked Nana up with some cooking professionals and Tsuna got a 80.5% discount on most of the things he bought related to anime or other types of books. In fact, he ended up discussing anime in an internet cafe with 3 adults who lowkey looked very familiar.

It was actually Skull’s friends who were equally intelligent as him and actually created their own big companies. Sadly, the week of fun had to end but they did end up getting a bunch of stuff which filled up 7 giant suitcases of stuff. Half of it was a bunch of stationery and a few questionable things in Skull’s bags along with a few key chains/kimonos. Nana and Tsuna bought out half of a bakery and a few other things they kept separate from each other.

After the initial bliss of golden week, he successfully did his work without any late homework and smiled at the teachers for once.  

Now that he actually did his homework everyday, the teachers got bitter at the fact that he seemed to do way better, and the students left him alone.

Tsuna frowned at the hostility the teachers had and told Skull and his mother about the events after a week of the same treatment..

It was only a month later that all the teachers his class was assigned had been illegitimate student teachers who barely helped their professors or couldn’t even get into a basic college…. Namimori middle school had separated since basically almost all of the teachers didn’t even gain a degree…unsurprisingly, the terrifying demon expanded school territory. He shivered.

The demon of Namimori had terrorized Kokuyo afterwards. It was only a few miles away from the outskirts of Namimori Middle.

“Tsu-kun?”

“Mhm?” said son nodded up, his lap covered in wrinkled papers and documents. Nana bit her lip nervously.

“Well, I know Namimori isn’t the best so me and Skull think it would be better if you studied in another place….” She looked at Tsuna for confirmation.

He nodded slowly, putting away the school files and recommendations.

“I think you should be studying somewhere with Skull. I don’t know why but after we both met Skull, I feel a lot more wary for you, honey.” Her forehead crinkled in displeasure as she hugged Tsuna. 

“Are you going with me?” Tsuna inquired, his eyes sharpening at her hunched pose.

“Sadly, no. I have no place anywhere outside of Namimori…. and if Iemitsu hears about me disappearing, he will search for me. Your father is a very… focused person. I would let him go but I’m scared of what he’d do to you or anyone else…. it’s not that hard to realize how tenacious Iemitsu is if you knew him dear.” She chuckled mirthlessly, her eyes darkening but prideful at the same time.

He protested but nothing could pass out of mouth, he shut his mouth after 5 minutes of silence.

“…what do you say?” his tutor stood at the door, having been there for the whole conversation. Skull’s eyes pierced through his soul. Tsuna froze in some unknown emotion and turned towards his mother. She tearfully smiled at him, getting up to make dinner.

He shook in disbelief…. Skull or his mother.

Tsuna frowned, grasping his mother’s hand. After a week of not doing anything, he reluctantly greeted his mother farewell which broke his heart. Skull gave them closure for the next 3 hours.

While they were going to the airport, Nana had texted her son and so forth, both sides missing their family member like crazy.

After 3 years, Tsunayoshi visited Japan for the first time alone and a Hitman entered Japan. Both people could feel a pit in their guts, unsure of what it was. 

As for Skull, he had abandoned Tsunayoshi with a plane ticket and 3 checks that could buy out a small town on his 16th birthday, though Tsunayoshi had understood. It wasn’t Skull’s place to help the Vongola no matter how much Skull loved his pupil.

It was very obvious to Tsuna that the Vongola or it’s allies had done something devastating to Skull’s life since the cloud was so understanding. Tsuna’s palms turned clammy for the first time in a long time, gripping the cloud flame fused crystal in his hand. It was the only thing Skull truly gave that indicated his bond with the 16 yr old.

His sky flames braced him for the worst as he stepped onto Japanese ground, sharply inhaling as observant sun flames doused the airport, the hitman’s eyes scanning for the Japanese heir he needed to train.

Then they made eye contact. Reborn did not like this brat, Leon tensed and curled up on his shoulder away from the Sky’s stare. A snarky grin makes it out of the teenager as well as anger from his Cloud’s experience with the hitman.

Sun and Sky flames set each other off, creating humidity in the air conditioned airport.

(Somewhere in a quiet place, Skull woke up with orange and purple eyes, instinctively reaching for a silver shortblade behind his pillow. Sensing the irritating sun flames through his sky, he pushed out the sun to balance the powers of a grown man with developed flames in comparison to a teenager with a weakening seal that was slowly disintegrating his muscles and organs..

He hoped nothing too bad would happen to what was his. Or there would be hell to pay. He went back to sleep with restlessness in his body.)

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 13)

Chapter 13

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,206

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(Okay, this woman is way too glamorous, but it was the closest I could find to the dress and general physical appearance)

              As Christmas grew closer, Catalina wondered if she should visit her mother more and more. This was the first time being away from her so long, but her mother never said anything about buying her a plane ticket, and Catalina most certainly couldn’t afford one. She was also nervous about travelling alone, now that two more people had gone missing.

               But before she had to worry about Christmas, she had her first official date with Jungkook to worry about. They were both broke and extremely busy with final exams and work. But as soon as Christmas break began, both of their schedules opened up. Catalina wanted to be the one to ask him out first, so she invited him over for a movie night one night, getting ahold of a nice bottle of wine ahead of time. The movie she chose was C.H.U.D., a perfectly mediocre film that wouldn’t distract them from each other. Once the movie was set up, all Catalina had to do was wait.

               She made herself comfortable on her bed, still just a mattress on the ground, and pulled out her phone. She ended up just swiping back and forth on her home screen, glancing at the front door constantly. Jungkook had her only spare key, so he should be walking in any moment. She opened Twitter, scrolled down her feed without reading anything, then glanced at the door again. She opened her messages and read a text from her mom. Something about keeping pepper spray on her and being careful walking alone. Another glance at the door.

               She closed all her apps and set her phone down with a deep sigh. She needed to get a handle on herself.

               The sound of a key rattling and the front door opening made Catalina leap from her bed. Jungkook stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Snow was dusted in his hair and on his shoulders, which melted as he toed off his boots and took his coat off.

               “Hey,” Catalina greeted him as she approached. “How are the roads?”

               She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight before he could answer.

               “They weren’t bad, but I walked here,” he said, pulling her close with his arms around her waist. Catalina leaned back and kissed him, threading her fingers into his hair. She froze.

               “What…” she mumbled against his lips, combing through his hair and feeling the freshly shaved sides underneath. She felt him smile.

               “Do you like it?” he asked. Catalina pulled away further and pushed his long hair away from his face, eyeing the undercut that definitely wasn’t there the last time she saw him.

               “H- you…” Catalina let out a strangled sound before clearing her throat. Then she whispered, “It’s fucking sexy.”

               He laughed and kissed her hard, her hands back in his hair, and one of his hands finding its way up her back under her shirt.

               Catalina groaned and said, “We need to stop before I ruin my plans for tonight.”

               “Oh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

               “Yes. We have a movie to watch,” she said, pulling him over to her mattress, where her laptop was set up with the movie ready to play. They got settled and she pressed play on the movie, pouring two glasses of wine. A few minutes into the movie, Jungkook turned to Catalina and said, “Was your plan really to just watch this movie? Because it kind of sucks.”

               “No,” said Catalina. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me this week sometime. I was thinking De Luca’s.”

               “You’re gonna wine and dine me?” he asked, his big eyes softening. Catalina nodded. “Of course! I’ve never been to that place before, but I hear it’s amazing. I’d love to go with you.”

               Catalina couldn’t contain the smile that took over her face.

               “And then after dinner,” Catalina continued. “You’ll drive me home since I don’t have a car-“

               Jungkook laughed.

               “And I’ll kiss you goodnight before you leave,” she finished.

               “All proper,” he said. Catalina nodded. “And then on our second date, when I wine and dine you, I’ll drive you home, because I have a car and you don’t, and I’ll kiss you goodnight-“

               “And then you’ll come inside with me and I’ll sit right here, just like this,” Catalina interrupted, getting up to straddle his thighs. “And then I’ll tug on your hair like this…”        

               She gripped his hair tight and gave it a good tug, pulling his head to the side. He let out a moan before clamping his mouth shut, his breathing getting quicker. Catalina leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his neck.

               “Because you make pretty sounds when I pull your hair,” Catalina continued. “And then…who knows what will happen?”

               She got off his lap and returned to her spot cuddled up to his side.

               “But I’ll do all that stuff after our second date,” she said. “Because I know we’re both not into casual sex, and fucking after the first date is tacky.”

               “You’re evil,” he said, his voice breathy but a smile on his face. Catalina giggled and cuddled closer.

               “You love it,” she said. “I mean, in the meantime, we can just make out. Because this movie does kind of suck.”

               “Is that why you chose it?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow. Catalina couldn’t get enough of him doing that, it was so sexy.

               “Maybe,” she said, pulling him down.

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

               Catalina was being chased again. She was too slow, her feel dragging and her body not responding to her commands. Namjoon was above ground, if she could get to him, he’d protect her. She made it to the tunnel and the metal ground clanged under her feet. Too loud, too loud! But she couldn’t slow down or else they’d catch her. She looked behind her. Jungkook was supposed to be following her, but he wasn’t there.

“Don’t stop now, kitty,” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “They’re going to eat you if you stop moving.”

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

              She rarely got mail, unless it was bills or brochures from the college, so when Catalina saw an envelope sealed with a wax seal in her mailbox, she ran as fast as she could up to her apartment to read it.

               She dumped the rest of her mail on the kitchen counter and tore the letter open. The paper inside was yellowed with age, but heavy and high quality. It was an invitation, from Taehyung, to a Christmas party at the mansion. The party was a week before Christmas, so Catalina still had some time to figure out what she was going to wear. She didn’t bring anything fancy with her when she moved, so she would need buy something.

               Before the party, she went shopping with Jimin and Hoseok, both of whom also needed outfits. Catalina ended up buying a long, red dress. It was backless with long sleeves, tight fitting to her figure with a wide collar that left room for a necklace. A long slit in the skirt up the back almost reached the dip in the back. When she tried it on at the mall, the boys said that “it was sexy and Jungkook has a thing for red.” Hoseok told her not to buy a necklace because he had something for her to wear.

               Anyway, she was excited to show it off. The party was going to start at eight in the evening, but Jungkook drove Catalina and Jimin to the mansion around noon. They hung out, helped decorate the house, and then a few hours before the party was to start, they all went to separate rooms to get themselves ready.

               Catalina was just finishing up her makeup in one of the guest rooms and getting ready to put her dress on when a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Hoseok standing outside.

               “May I come in?” he asked.

               “Sure,” said Catalina, stepping aside for him. He walked in and handed her a velvet rectangular box. “Is this it?”

               He nodded.

               “It’s from my mom,” said Hoseok. “I saw her a few days ago and told her about you and Jimin and Jungkook. She said you could borrow this for the party.”

               “Your mom lives around here?” Catalina asked. She never thought about Hoseok’s family. She supposed she should have assumed some of his relatives were still alive, since he wasn’t actually that old. She wondered if his mother knew he was a vampire, but she figured his mother would have to. Hoseok wouldn’t have aged in many years.

               “Yeah, after my dad died, she moved here to spend more time with me,” said Hoseok. Catalina opened the box. A pearl necklace shone back at her.

               “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Is she sure?”

               Hoseok nodded.

               “Tell her thank you for me,” said Catalina.

               “You can tell her yourself,” said Hoseok. “She’ll be at the party tonight. My sister will be here too.”

               With that, he left Catalina to finish getting ready. As much as she found Hoseok to be mysterious and even suspicious sometimes despite his sunny personality, Catalina was looking forward to meeting his mother and sister. Maybe they could give some insight on the secretive dancer.

               Catalina’s normally long, dark wavy hair was curled into smooth ringlets. She twisted it up into an updo as best she could with hanging strands. She fastened her hair in the back with a jeweled clip. Her hosiery was tight and uncomfortable, but when she put her dress on, it made her body look smooth and seamless, her matching red lingerie properly hidden. The pearl necklace completed the look and Catalina couldn’t stop looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Her dark curls framed her face, which was made up to make her dark eyes look bigger and sharper. Her makeup was light, just enough to make her bronze skin look flawless. The dress accentuated all her curves, and she could barely see her back in the mirror, but the dip came down dangerously low. The lace sleeves didn’t keep her warm, but they were delicate and elegant.

               Catalina couldn’t wait to show off her dress, and she couldn’t wait to see the boys in their suits.

               When Catalina came downstairs, Jin and Jimmy K had arrived and were in the foyer making conversation with Namjoon, along with a handsome stranger. All of them stopped talking to stare at her. She felt her face heat up. Jimmy K approached and held out a hand as she came down the last few steps.

               “You look incredible,” he said.

               “Jimmy K, I’m not at this party alone,” she said with a smirk.

               “I know,” he said. “Save me a dance though, would you?”

               “Sure,” said Catalina. “Where’s Jungkook?”

               “He was still getting ready, last I checked,” said Namjoon. “He should be down any minute.”

               Catalina looked at the stranger and Namjoon jumped in to introduce her.

               “Catalina, this is Dr. Vera Carlisle,” he said. “She’s a professor at the university I used to teach at.”

               Dr. Carlisle smiled and shook hands with Catalina. She had short, styled hair and was wearing a smart suit. Namjoon leaned in to say quietly, “Dr. Carlisle is the one who helps us get blood from the blood bank.”

               “Isn’t that like, taking blood away from patients who need it?” Catalina asked.

               “We have a lot of volunteers who give blood for exactly these situations,” said Dr. Carlisle. “There’s a bit of a community around the vampire life and, not surprisingly, people are infatuated with it.”

               Catalina had so many more questions, but at that moment, everyone looked to the staircase. Catalina followed their gazes and she let out a gasp. She couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked. He seemed to be coming down the stairs in slow motion, at least that’s how Catalina saw it. His suit was black with red accents, and instead of a tie, he wore delicate gold chains looped under the collar. His hair was slicked back, revealing the shaved undercut and he might have even been wearing a slight amount of makeup around his eyes, making them a bit darker than usual. Catalina let go of the breath she was holding when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

               “Guk, you look…” Catalina couldn’t even find the right word. “I love…this is…”

               Jungkook smiled at her and said, “You too, Cat.”

               He let Catalina take his hand and pull him closer. They were alone in the foyer now, so Catalina had no reservations about leaning in and placing a kiss on his neck, right under his ear. Her red lipstick left a kiss-shaped stain on his skin.

               “So that everyone here will know who you belong to,” said Catalina.

              Jungkook’s face was bright red and he sounded breathless as he said, “You should just get a collar for me next time.”

              Catalina raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she found herself dwelling on the thought for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

[evanonearth]

Why it’s okay to not have your life together in your 20′s

A blog piece I recently wrote for The Juice Academy

It’s August 2018 and I’m sat in my bedroom surrounded by my suitcase, hand luggage and a duffle bag still covered in tape with the FedEx customs label wrapped around the handles. What I’m supposed to be doing is unpacking and settling in back at home after landing in the UK 48 hours ago from New York. What I’ve actually been doing for the last hour is scrolling through my phone, revisiting the endless photos and videos that I’ll end up viewing multiple times again and again, over the following year.

I’ve spent the last 12 weeks at a summer camp in America, photographing camp activities 5 days a week before spending the weekend visiting the Lake, our favourite diners, or during one memorable weekend - zip lining over Niagara Falls. When camp finished, I spent the next 4 weeks travelling across America. Feeding crocodiles in the swamps of Louisiana, spending Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and road tripping up the coast of California. I learnt how to line dance at Honky Tonks in Nashville and lived my Elle Woods fantasy in Boston. I’d had the best experience of my life, but all it took was a 9-hour flight to bring me crashing back down to reality.

I was 22, freshly graduated from university and not a clue what I wanted to do with my career. All I knew was that I missed the care-free days of camp life. In fact, I’d had such a great experience that I pressed ‘pause’ on my life and knew that I had to go back for a second summer 10 months later.

It was an easy decision to make because it came from the heart. It was simple; I was choosing what made me happy. But then my brain caught up with the idea and all of a sudden, I was filled with a sense of panic, guilt and all-round helplessness. Why was I spending 10 months of my life working in a supermarket, just to save enough money to go back for 3 months to something I’d already done? How was any of this contributing towards a career? Why wasn’t I doing anything with the degree that took me 4 years to get? Surely, I should be saving for a house? That’s what everyone else was doing, right?

In the lead up to my second summer in the States, these were constant worries. Comparison is a killer, and I was questioning everything, feeling completely out of the loop with my friends who had gone straight from uni into graduate jobs. But I knew that I’d probably never get the opportunity again to travel for this length of time without any attachments.

Fast forward to present day, and I’m so grateful that I made that decision to return for a second summer. Without sounding cliché, it changed my whole perspective on life. I met people who were older than me and just starting uni, people who were in their early 30’s and had taken a career break, and people who - like me, just simply weren’t ready to settle. By the time I got home, all of my friends seemed to have stepped into the ‘real’ world. The world of careers, and serious relationships and finally moving out of your parent’s house.

But this time round, it didn’t bother me. I was creating my own timeline and choosing my own path. I was nearly 24, with no idea what was next, but I was happy with the unknown because I knew that whatever was meant to be, would be. By choosing to change my expected path, I’d opened up a whole new chapter of my life where I was content with doing things at my own pace. After camp, I’d planned to go travelling around Asia with some of the friends I’d made over the last two summers. We didn’t have a plan, just a rough idea of locations and the idea that we’d stay out there until we only had enough money left to buy a plane ticket home. Of course, due to the pandemic hitting, this never happened. Instead, I used lockdown as a chance to think about what I really wanted from the next few years. I realised that travelling and having a career don’t need to be independent books but can be part of multiple chapters in my life. So, I brushed up my CV and got excited about beginning a career in the creative industry, because this time round I felt ready for it.

Society has conditioned us to believe that we have to be constantly hitting these specific milestones at certain ages, and if not then we’re somehow failing at life. We should be going to university, or getting on the property ladder, having children by 30 and choosing one career to stick to until retirement at 60.

But guess what? There is no time limit on any of these things! Only a socially constructed ‘ideal’. And there is more to life than ticking boxes.

It starts when we’re little and we get asked “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and then it’s “What A-Level options are you picking?” How are we supposed to know at 15, what’s going to make us happy at 25? At 50? I’m not even the same person I was a year ago, let alone 10. Even more so as women, we get told that our lives won’t be ‘fulfilled’ until we have children (which, by the way, has to be by a certain time because you don’t want to be an old Mum right?), or that the only reason we’re single is because we ‘just haven’t met the right person yet’ rather than by actual choice.

People talk about using your 20’s to ‘find yourself’, but that’s not really how it works. You’re not lost, you don’t need finding. Your true self is right there, it’s just buried under pressure from society, what you’ve been told is the right thing to do, and other people’s opinions of what you should be doing.

This isn’t to belittle those people who have taken the expected path, because for those people that might be their dream. Some people want to settle down with a family by the time they’re 30, or go straight from university into a job; the same way that I knew it was exactly what I didn't want to do. For them, that’s their own happiness. No one else but you is responsible for your own happiness and deciding what your definition of that is. Your timeline is yours to create, it doesn’t matter what other people your age are doing, focus on building your own happiness and everything else will come in time.

Creating your own path in life isn’t easy. Especially if it feels like you’re somehow not at the same point in life as all of your friends are, it’s hard to break away from the flow and realise that you can do something different. Breaking the ‘rules’ and doing your own thing can feel scary but deciding to live life on your own terms is ultimately the best reward.

A close friend of mine said to me recently “What is meant for you won’t pass you by and what passes you by wasn’t meant for you”.

Trust yourself and trust the universe. You never know where life will take you, and that can be a wonderful thing.

[one-shot-plus-size]

True Love - Chapter 3

Something I published on my Wattpad account a few years ago, and now I've reworked and am publishing here.

Imagine :

She - a 23 year old girl who loves freedom and a man who will never be hers.

He - a 47 year old actor with a life that is not quite in order.

What happens when he realizes he has the diamond under his nose that he's been looking for all his life.

Pov Olivia

- Why did you take such a strange leave of absence? - Magda leaned out from behind the monitor.

- What do you mean? - I furrowed my eyebrows.

- Thursday is your last day at work, why not from Monday? - She was tapping her pen on the desk.

- Because on Friday I have a flight from Cracow to Chicago at 12:05, where I have to wait until 19:35 to fly to San Diego. There I am at 9:47 p.m., then back to my hotel and in the morning at Comic-Con.

- Well, that's logical - she smiled and returned to her seat.

- Yup - I nodded my head.

Friday 11:00 am

I sat quietly in the waiting room, pulled out my phone and turned on Whatsapp and a new message to Jeffrey. ( Jeffrey Dean Morgan).

💬 To Jeff : I am at the airport flying out in an hour, around 10:30 in the evening I should be at the hotel.

I scraped out a message to him and before I could put my phone in my pocket a reply came.

📲 From Jeff : Bubba is not expecting anything, he walks like a nailed dog even I feel a little sorry for him.

💬To Jeff : Just not a word, he wants him to have a surprise, calm him down a bit. I know you can!

📲 From Jeff : As always! I love you horrible woman ! 💙

💬To Jeff : I love you too old man

📲 From Jeff : Pff🤬

I laughed under my breath, put my phone in my pocket and headed to check-in after just a few minutes. Just to sit on the plane at 12. I had some time to sleep, put my headphones in my ears and drifted off. Nice lady stewardess woke me up before landing in Chicago. There I bought American phone card and went for a decent meal.

Pov Jeffrey

I looked over at Norman who was standing on the terrace smoking a cigarette. His thoughts kept running to Olivia, I could see it in his eyes. He was sad or maybe angry that she didn't want to see him. Sometimes it was hard to judge him, he rarely showed his true emotions. But his eyes betrayed him, and very often. I walked out to him and leaned my back against the railing.

- Dude don't worry so much - I looked at him.

- I'm not worried - he muttered under his breath and shrugged his shoulders.

- I can just see how you are not worried - I smiled widely.

- I don't understand why he doesn't want to come. We meet every year, every year we spend three weeks together, and this year she is somehow different.

- Maybe she fell in love and her partner doesn't approve - I lit a cigarette.

- I want her to fall in love, I want her to be happy, but I don't want a partner who forbids us to see each other. Who is this guy?

- Norman - I groaned - maybe he is jealous of you, look at yourself.

- I'm nothing special - he put out his cigarette - I'm going to bed.

I wanted to tell him that she would soon be in the same hotel as us but I promised to keep it to myself. At 10:30 I got a message.

📲Of Oli: I'm at the hotel, room 313.

💬 To Ola : I'm in 5 minutes.

He put the phone in his pocket and I put on my leather jacket.

- Bubba I'm leaving, I'll be back in a while - I shouted towards Norman's bedroom.

But no one answered me, Norman was probably either taking a shower or already asleep. I sighed and went to room 313. I knocked twice on the door and heard muffled footsteps and after a few seconds the door opened. Standing in it was Olivia, her blue hair flowing loosely over her shoulders. She was wearing a loose hoodie and tight jeans.

- Hey - she smiled tiredly.

- Hey baby - I took a step and hugged her tightly.

She cuddled into my body and a tired sigh came out of her mouth. I kissed her head and rubbed her back with my hands.

- Tired ? - I moved away slightly.

- A little - she breathed - Would you like something to drink?

- Maybe a quick drink? - I smiled widely.

- Fine - she nodded and moved towards the bar.

- Honey, you look good - I took off my jacket and threw it on the back of the sofa.

- What do you mean? - She opened the bottle of whisky.

- You just look good even though you still wear those baggy sweatshirts - I watched her movements.

- They're just comfortable and I don't have to bother choosing accessories. And I really don't feel like it lately - she sat down next to me with two glasses.

- Did something happen? - I took the glass from her and furrowed my eyebrows.

- Well, my ex turned out to be a dick and that's all - she shrugged her shoulders.

She leaned her elbows on her knees and drank the liquid from the glass in one gulp. I looked at the profile of her face, she didn't even wrinkle her eyebrows.

- Are you back to drinking? - I leaned towards her.

- Can we not talk about this now? I'm here for the first day and you're already doing my fucking interrogation - she looked at me.

- But promise me we'll come back to this conversation?

- I promise if you don't say anything to Norman - she stared into my eyes.

- I won't say a fucking word to him - I smiled slightly.

- Then we'll go back to this conversation - she nodded - how is he?

- He sulks like a teenager - I laughed.

- He hasn't replied to any of my messages, he's probably angry with me.

- I bet that when he sees you tomorrow all his anger will be gone - I kissed her on the temple - you know how he is when something doesn't go his way. And he really missed you and he's sorry.

Olivia took a breath and sank deeper into the couch.

- Hey - I poked her - don't pout yet you know that if you make puppy dog eyes he is able to forgive everything.

- I hope so - she smiled uncertainly.

- You know that if you make puppy dog eyes, he will be able to forgive everything - she smiled uncertainly - After all, he loves you - I poked her - and he can't stay mad at you for too long.

Olivia looked at me and I saw a blush on her cheeks. She set her glass down on the coffee table and snuggled into my side.

- I missed you, old man -  she whispered.

- I missed you too girl - I put my arm around her.

Her head was resting under my chin, Olivia may not look like a woman we were used to. She wasn't skinny, she wasn't tall but her character made up for all her flaws. A person stops noticing her larger body stature after getting to know her. But she had one flaw, she was morbidly shy and that is why many people abandoned her. I got close to her only last year and only then I realized how big heart she has. And I want to keep her close because it's really worth it. I glanced at her, her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady. As she fell asleep, I gently pushed her away from me. I set the glass down and took her hands in mine wedding style. I headed to the bedroom, planted her on the bed holding her with my hands. I took off her sweatshirt, socks and pants, laid her on the bed and covered her with blankets.

- Sleep dear - I kissed her forehead and left her room.

I closed the door behind me and went to my room.

Pov Olivia

When I awoke to the sound of the alarm clock. I wiped my face with my hands and looked around the room. I was lying in bed in the bedroom of my rented apartment. I hit the phone and the alarm finally went off. I groaned wiping my face with my palms, I must have been drowsy last night. I threw my legs off the bed and pulled hard. I picked my phone up off the ground and opened a new message from Jeff.

📲 From Jeff : Remember that at 3 in the afternoon is our show, remember not to be late lazy !

I locked my device and shook my head. This man was impossible but that's what I loved him for. For the fact that he could listen, that he had more experience in life and could share it. He was different than Norman but after all, no two people are alike. Grabbed my phone and opened a new message to Jeff.

💬To Jeff : I hope your old bones didn't suffer when you carried me to bed.💙 Thank you, I'm not late, I'm never late.

I put my phone down on the bedside table, grabbed my clothes and headed to the shower. I had to prepare myself properly to greet my long lost friend.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was always careful about what I wore, I had to mask my excess weight somehow. I combed my hair and dried it into a bun.

Just a quick breakfast and I was ready to go. I took an Uber and after just a few minutes I found myself in front of the San Diego Convention Center. Thanks to Jeffrey's kindness I had VIP ticket so I could enter everywhere. Therefore, I went to the hall out of turn, hung around my neck badge with name and level of availability. The first thing that caught my eye was the amount of people dressed up. Cosplay was ubiquitous here, I slipped my glasses over my hair and admired their creators. People were really imaginative and I stopped at one or three stalls to buy some interesting things. Eventually I got to the place where The Walking Dead actors were, I kept my distance so none of them would recognize me. No one knew I was here, except Jeffrey of course. I watched Norman interact with the fans, his face lit up with a smile from ear to ear. He was snapping pictures with them, signing T-shirts and many other things. I smiled to myself, I loved how open he was with his fans. I took a breather and wandered around the neighborhood and at 2:30 I was already sitting in my seat in the hall where the conference was to be held.

📲Of Jeff : are you ?

💬Do Jeff : Third row, fourth seat from the left. From the middle aisle.

📲From Jeff : Divine, he wants to see Bubba's face.

I smiled under my breath, at exactly three o'clock the host started her show. She was smiling all the time under her breath, my hands started sweating strangely, I rubbed them on my pants. The first to enter was the director, then Andrew Lincoln, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and finally Norman Reedus, followed of course by the rest of the crew. I had the impression that Jeffrey immediately sought me out with his eyes. He smiled broadly and nodded slightly. I smiled back and also nodded slightly. Jeffrey looked up at me every now and then smiling. Halfway through the performance Jeffrey poked Lincoln and whispered something in his ear. Andrew lifted his head and looked around the front rows and a wide grin appeared on his lips from ear to ear. Lincoln slaps Norman hard on the shoulder, the man crouches down and mutters something under his breath. Andrew leans into his ear and whispers something. And his body tense up, he slides his hat down over his face and shifts his gaze around the audience. His eyes stopped on me, smiling broadly. Eventually, he smiled too.

Andrew watched his friend's reaction, smiling slightly. Norman pulled out his phone, and moments later mine vibrated in his pocket.

📲Of Norm : I'm gonna strangle you 🎈

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 10

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, unprotected sex

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The bathing suit still fit. Eva was glad of it, she hadn’t had time to go out and shop for a new one.  A cherry red halter top paired with high waisted bottoms, she’d purchased it a year or so previous on a whim and only worn it a handful of times.  Being a consultant for the DEA didn’t lend itself to lounging by the water. She threw on a soft cotton cover up, stepped into her sandals, and grabbed the fifth of vodka sitting on her counter before walking over to Steve and Connie’s apartment.

The sun was shining brightly that day, as it did most days. And, like most days, the humidity was high. Eva could feel the heat rising from the asphalt as she crossed the parking lot and made her way down the street. When she got to their door, she shifted the vodka to the crook of her arm and knocked.

The door opened and Steve welcomed her in with a wave of his hand.  He was wearing swim trunks and an unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, his hair wet and slicked back. She shuffled inside, putting the vodka in the freezer and heading out through the back door to a rectangular courtyard. The pool was encircled by a black metal fence about waist high. She spotted Connie standing next to Javier at the grill, setting down a plate of uncooked meat. She caught sight of Eva and smiled wide beneath her shades.

“C’mon,” she yelled, waving her hand wildly, “We have the pool for about four hours—til the sun goes down.”

Eva returned the wave, passing through the gate and over to where a few lounge chairs were situated, towels hanging over the back. Umbrellas provided each lounge with some shade from the sun.

“Okay,” Eva said, motioning to the courtyard, “Someone in housing definitely hates me. My shower barely works and you’ve got a fucking pool.”

Connie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, with a schedule so tight and political it could run for president. It took two months of sending brownies to the landlord just to get a half day booked.”

Eva squinted at her, “You have to book time?”

Nodding, Connie gestured for Eva to sit on the lounge chair opposite her, “I know, right? There are families here who have standing appointments months out.”

Steve, having followed Eva outside, called out, “What Connie isn’t telling you is that I slipped a stack of money into one of the brownie pans last week. Only way we got the permission.”

“Can’t you just...jump in?”

Connie’s eyes went wide, “Oh, Jesus. Saw someone try to do that the first week here. The guards fucking swarmed them, hauled ‘em out. Haven’t seen them since.”

Sounds about right, Eva thought. Everything seemed to be a quid pro quo down here. She’d seen a couple agents pay off their informants only to turn around and expense it to the department. Money could buy literally anything here.

“Let me tell you what happened yesterday at work,” Connie sighed, turning to lay back on the lounge, “I started at the NICU four months ago and I thought I had a handle on it. But, oh no, one of the other nurses has been taking my reports and shredding them. So, now my boss thinks I just don’t turn in my work.”

“No way,” Eva blurted out, scandalized.

“Yes, way,” Connie confirmed, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose, “So, I started making copies and locking them in my desk. But, I found out one of the maintenance guys has been letting her into it and she’s been taking my copies.”

Eva rested her head on her palm, mouth curling, “What’re you going to do about it?”

Connie smirked, “A little Ipicac in her morning coffee.”

Brows hitting her hairline, Eva’s mouth dropped. Connie was a forceful woman, could be outright domineering when she wanted something, but this was shocking behavior for her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Its harmless. Just a little vomiting during the staff meeting.”

“Does she know you did it?” Eva’s voice came out as a whisper, as if she was trying to keep the story secret.

“Nope,” Connie shook her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder, “I was pretty slick about it.”

“I’m sure,” Eva confirmed. “One question: How is the behavior going to stop if she doesn’t know it was you who did it?”

Connie shrugged, “Every time one of my copies goes missing, I’ll do it again. She’ll get the picture eventually. I also had Steve get me a false bottom for my desk. I’ll have a third copy waiting, just in case.”

The smell of meat wafted over, a welcome change from the chlorine. Eva glanced at Javier and Steve, both of them staring at the grill intently. Javier was fidgeting with a metal spatula, forearm wiping at his brow.

“Is that a guy thing? Standing by the grill and watching food cook?”

Even though Eva couldn’t see Connie’s eyes behind her shades, she could tell that the other woman was rolling them, “I guess. Every man I know does it.”

“Same here,” Eva said, eyes squinting. “I mean, they’re not even talking.”

Connie laughed a little, reaching into the cooler and handing Eva a beer. She popped the top for her and grabbed one for herself, “I suppose it could be worse.”

“Could be fireworks.”

Brows raised, Connie asked, “Is there a story there?”

“Ah,” Eva edged, “When I was a kid, my parents used to have this block party on the fourth with this huge fireworks display.  One of the neighbors built a potato cannon that they primed with hairspray. One year they shot roman candles out of it.”

Jaw open, Connie took a few seconds to reply, “Did...someone get hurt?”

“Oh, no,” Eva clarified, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand, “A window got knocked out, but no one got hurt.”

A while later, Eva was fanning herself with her hand, sweat falling down her neck. In the late afternoon, the sun beat down on them. Even with the umbrellas above, Eva could feel her body fighting to keep itself cool. Standing, she pulled off her cover up.

“I’m getting in,” she declared, “I can’t take it any more.”

Connie laughed and stood with her, “I’ll go with you. Nice suit, by the way.”

Eva thanked her, returning the sentiment. Connie was wearing a canary yellow one piece, the thighs cut high to highlight her muscular thighs. She threw off her sunglasses and pulled her hair atop her head into a tight bun. Eva wished she’d thought to bring a hair tie. She’d never really been concerned about the way her hair curled in irregular little ringlets and waves before, but knowing that Horacio would be stopping by afterwards made her a little self conscious. With a little effort, she shrugged it off and darted out to the edge of the pool, jumping in.

The water was cool, a shock to her body as it enveloped her. Eva felt the air rush out of her lungs as she  sunk beneath the surface. Her feet touched down and she kicked hard, breaching the water with a sharply indrawn breath.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she laughed at Connie, who had used the ladder to drop daintily into the pool.

“I haven’t done that since I was a kid,” she said, her cheeks hurting a bit with the force of her smile.

Connie nodded enthusiastically, “We had a pool, too. Above ground. Mom would make us wear pool floats the whole time we were in it.”

Eva shook her head, “I suppose there’s something to be said for safety. I was an only child, so my parents let me do whatever I wanted, mostly.”

“Are they still around?”

Eva swallowed, her eyes falling to the water she was swishing between her fingers, “No, they died a long time ago.”

“Oh, my God,” Connie gasped, “I’m sorry. How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It was an accident,” Eva explained.  

It was the same explanation that she’d given a million people before and would likely continue to give. A plane crash. No survivors. They were headed to a little resort that Josh had booked for their anniversary.  Eva could still remember what her mother’s face had looked like when Josh handed her the tickets—excited and charmed. It turned her stomach.

Connie read her expression and approached slowly, arms pushing through the water, “Was it… was it because of your husband? Because of the things he did?”

Eva had been as honest as she could about the things that had occurred in her marriage, had told Connie about the way she learned to cover bruises, about how she used the work to give her purpose even though she knew it resulted in the destruction of people’s lives, about how he hurt her less when she did a good job.

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Um, I tried to run away—had a passport and some cash hidden. I can’t prove it, but I think he killed them to make a point.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eva,” Connie breathed. “That’s horrifying.”

Eva blinked at Connie, trying to smile, “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“That’s not something you make peace with.”

She was right, Eva hadn’t made peace with it, not really. It had taken a long time for her to stop feeling guilty and to place the blame solely on Josh. It was part of the reason that she was able to kill him that night. She’d channeled all that rage into the fight, and she’d finally come out the victor.

“I got him back, though, didn’t I?” She said, chin lifting.

“Yes, you did.”

They swam for a while, until the food was done. Steve called out to them, a pair of tongs clapping together in one hand. They ate off paper plates, beers fresh from the cooler dripping condensation onto the cement below.

After wards, Eva laid back on the lounge, feeling sleepy. She kept a beer next to her, drinking from it lazily. One arm thrown over her head, she stretched her legs out long, enjoying the sun and relaxation. That’s how Horacio found her. Eyes closed, half shaded by the umbrella, suit drying out on her body. She heard him walk up and sit on the lounge next to hers.

Eva opened her eyes and smiled, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She sat up, swinging her legs around so that she could face him, “You get everything done at work?”

He nodded, “Got some paperwork in the truck I need to finish. I parked at your place, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s no problem, you park there most of the time anyways.”

That was very much the truth. They hadn’t spent many nights away from one another, almost all of them at her place. Horacio told her that he liked her apartment better than his house because it was cozier. Eva could see why. She’d finally gotten to see his house, and it was sparsely decorated, indicative of a man who lived at work and only slept when he had to.

“Did you eat?” she asked.

Another nod, “Since its a Saturday, we order take out for the guys.”

Eva started to reach out to touch him, but the first two fingers of his right hand lifted quickly, stopping the motion.

“There are a lot of eyes here.”

Right. Although he hadn’t explained in detail, Javier had let it slip during a meeting that Carillo had a literal bounty on his head. In his fight against the rise of drugs in the country, he’d ruffled a lot of feathers. And, that made anyone associated with him vulnerable. When they were in public, he kept a distance between them and, outside of rare occasions, he didn’t touch her. The longer they were together, to more strict he became about it. Eva was still adjusting.

Eva pointed to the swim trunks he was wearing, “Did you go home to change or did you wear this to the office?”

Shooting her a sardonic look he asked, “What do you think?”

“I know, I know,” she replied, “God forbid you show up anything less than immaculate.”

It was probably the only point of contention between them. He always got up early to get dressed for the day. Eva argued constantly that he could go in one day without going through his entire routine, his coworkers wouldn’t notice. He argued back that he was supposed to be setting an example and that meant ironing his undershirt. She hadn’t yet managed to convince him to sleep in with her, his internal clock kicking in like….well, clockwork.

Now, though, he was wearing teal colored swim trunks and one of his more casual polo shirts. His hair was still combed back from his face, the curls tamed by the pomade he kept next to his aftershave on her bathroom counter. He’d taken a little extra time to shave that morning.

Eva gestured towards the cooler, “Go get yourself a beer. Relax for two seconds.”

She watched him as he rose and sauntered over to the little cooler by the grill, greeting the others along the way. Connie stepped over and sat next to her, leaning a little into Eva’s space.

She handed Eva a fresh beer, saying, “So… you guys are good?”

Eva nodded, “Yep.”

Connie stared at her.

“What?”

“You like him.”

Eva snorted, “Of course I like him. We literally discussed this a few days ago.”

“No, I mean you really like him,” Connie clarified, “You do this thing where the more you want something, the less you talk about it.”

Looking at her with a flustered expression, “What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?”

Connie took a swig from the bottle in her hand, “I don’t know, maybe admit that you like him more than you let on and you’re afraid that its going to self destruct because you’re both working dangerous jobs in a dangerous country where one or both of you could be killed and the pressure is a little too high for such a new relationship.” She took a deep breath, “And that scares the shit out of you.”

Eva’s mouth thinned as she regarded her friends, “Way to put it so succinctly.”

“Thank you.” A beat, “So, are you going to admit it?”

Eva glared.

Connie rolled her eyes, “Alright, don’t admit it. We both know its true.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eva glowered. Then, after taking just a moment to think about it, she said, “He thinks I’m going to become a target if they find out.”

She didn’t have to say who ‘they’ were. Connie knew, had married into it.

“That’s possible.”

“I don’t know how to prove that I’m not scared.  Hell, I was on the other side of this fifteen years ago. I know the risks.”

Connie rolled a shoulder, resting her arms on her knees, her gaze following her husband as he told yet another wild story, “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Some thought,” Eva agreed.

“Sounds like you’re willing to take on those risks.”

“Some risks.”

“Sound like you just admitted you like him a lot.”

“Jesus, Connie,” Eva grumbled.

Flashing a smile at Eva, Connie cajoled, “Is it that hard to admit?”

“Given my last long standing relationship ended in literal murder, I would say I’ve got grounds to be cautious.”

Lifting a finger, Connie asserted firmly, “Cautious, not cowardly.”

She had a point.  Eva kind of resented her for it.

They spent another hour or so talking among themselves, until the cooler ran out of beer.

“I bet that vodka’s good and cold,” Eva announced, heading for the gate. She didn’t bother with a towel or her cover up, already mostly dry from the sun.

Connie threw up her hands, “Yes! There’s orange juice in the fridge. And, another six pack.”

“I’ll help,” Carrillo offered, following Eva towards the door.

The sliding glass rumbled as she pulled it open, pushing through the vertical blinds to duck inside. The air conditioning hit her hard, goosebumps rising over her skin. She hissed a little bit, rubbing at her arms as she made her way across the kitchen to the fridge. Behind her, the heavy glass door slid closed.

Bare feet shuffling across the tile, Eva opened the fridge and found the six pack and orange juice, setting them on the counter beside her before pulling the vodka out of the freezer.  It was definitely cold enough, the bottle immediately frosting despite the cool air.

“You know, there’s going to come a time when I’ll be able to out drink Connie, but today is not going to be that day,” she said with a smile.

Eva stood and ran abruptly into Horacio, who reached behind her to shut the freezer door, the other hand taking the bottle from her and setting it next to the orange juice and the beer. Without further preamble, he leaned down and kissed her hard. She squeaked a little, unprepared for it, before settling into the motion.

He pulled away, hands skimming her waist and hips, “I’ve been meaning to do that since I got here.”

Eva wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “I think we’ve discussed that you’re free to kiss me whenever you want.”

“Not always,” he replied, the implication heavy in his tone.

She gave a little bob of her head in understanding, “Still, offer’s on the table.”

“Noted,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing her again. Slower. Deeper. “Have I told you how much I like kissing you?”

Eva smiled as she ruffled the little hairs on the nape of his neck, “The feeling is mutual.”

Hands spanning her waist, he gazed down the length of her body, “Have I told you how much I like this suit.” His grip tightened the tiniest bit, “So much skin.”

At this, Eva’s smile morphed into an abashed laugh, “You’ve seen me in less.”

His brows quirked, mouth curving into an almost but not quite smile, “Usually, I can touch you.”

“You’re touching me now, Big Guy.”

She watched his lips as he pulled them in between his teeth, pressing lightly before letting go. He pulled her into him until they were pressed together, standing between the counter and the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. Little kisses trailed up her neck to her jaw, and finally to her mouth. Though his arms held her tight, his mouth was soft and gentle, tongue snaking out to taste.

The easiness of the kiss, the fact that they’d been apart for almost a day, the knowledge that once they stepped back outside she couldn’t touch him again until they were safely ensconced in her apartment made Eva greedy to have what she could, when she could. Despite the fact that he wasn’t doing much more than holding her, she felt the echo of arousal bloom in her belly. Lifting up onto her toes, she deepened the kiss, tilting her hips into him.

His response was...absolutely to be expected. Thigh pushing between her legs, he walked her back to the counter until it dug into her lower back. One hand came up to grip her damp hair, angling her head back so that he could press his face into her neck. Eva tried to roll her chin down to get at him again, but he held her still.

Dark eyes looked up at her from beneath his lashes, “As soon as we get back to your apartment.”

It took her maybe half a second to process his meaning, and then she was giving a quick jerk of her head. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent, before stepping away. Shoulders tense, he picked up the orange juice and six pack and gesturing towards the sliding glass doors.

With shaking hands, Eva grabbed the vodka, thankful for the freezing bottle. She pressed it to her belly, walking ahead of Horacio. By the pool, the group had gathered on the lounge chairs.

Eva held up the bottle as she approached, “I come bearing gifts!”

“Ah, Jesus,” Javier groaned, leaning over to stage whisper to Steve, “I don’t think I’m up for this.”

Connie rolled her eyes as she took to bottle from Eva, cracking it open, “Man up, Javier. This is a party.”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket, hanging from the back of the chair, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, “All your parties end in fights.”

“Excuse me,” Connie retorted, offended, “One party ended in a fight, thank you very much.”

Eva frowned, “Is this the bar fight, gun fight?”

Beside Connie, Steve dropped his head into his palm, shaking it. Javier took a drag and blew out the smoke. Connie glared.

“So, here’s what happened,” Javier said, making room for Carrillo to sit by him. “We’re at a work thing, schmoozing with the big wigs in the department. Usual stuff. One guy gets a little drunk and makes a pass at Connie, who proceeds to grab his hand and break it.”

“Sprain it,” Connie cut in. “I sprained it. Barely.”

Javier scoffed, “Anyways, the guy happens to be a major player for this political group who gave us money. They don’t give us money anymore.”

Connie handed Eva a cup—vodka and orange juice, “What was I supposed to do? Let the guy grab my ass in a room full of people.”

Eva thought about it, “I agree with Connie. Break his fucking hand.”

“Thank you,” Connie said, touching Eva’s arm in solidarity.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Eva said, crossing one leg over the other, “How is that a fight?”

Javier’s brows lifted as he recalled, “Oh, right. Steve got in the guy’s face.”

Eva made a sound of disbelief, “Alright, no. This wasn’t Connie’s fault, Steve’s the one who escalated things.”

“What was I supposed to do?” he echoed Connie’s sentiment.

She shrugged, “I’m not the best person to answer that question.”

Three pairs of eyes crept over to Carrillo, who was already shaking his head, “I probably would have done the same.”

Eva had to take a deep drink from her cup to cover the expression unfolding on her face. She couldn’t help the image of him pushing into someone’s space, a threat spoken lowly. His thick frame blocking any hope of escape. Eva thought she’d like to see that someday.

“That’s not the point,” Javier cut in.

“What is the point?” Connie asked.

“That your parties end in fights.”

“One party—not even my party.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Eva blurted, setting down her cup. She grabbed Connie’s hand, “Let’s go.”

Tugging the woman along, Eva hauled ass towards the pool tumbling headfirst into the water. She heard a second splash nearby, and she smiled beneath water as she kicked to the surface. Breaching, Eva pushed her hair back from her face, her eyes going wide as she caught a body flying over her, sending a wave of water over her. She ducked under, hearing a third splash.

Coming up laughing, she spotted both Javier and Steve swimming away, Connie following not far behind, shouting. She looked up, smiling at Carrillo, who was popping to top off a beer.

“You gonna join us?”

He looked dubious.

“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t swim,” Eva wheedled before ducking down and pushing off the edge of the pool to shoot out towards the center.

She popped up next to Javier, dodging Connie as she pushed him under. Tiptoeing around Steve, Eva put a little distance between them, her wide smile dropping as she looked down to the other side. Carrillo had set down his beer and was walking towards the pool, tugging off his polo. She would never, ever get used to it. Eva had spent many nights holding onto those shoulders, feeling him move between her thighs, and she was still struck dumb.  He caught her eye, and though his expression didn’t change, she could tell that he was gloating. With sure movements, he gave a little bounce and then his arms swung forward as he executed a seamless dive into the pool.

Righting herself, Eva leaned against the wall of the pool, flicking water at Connie, who swam up beside her.

“Please tell me you…”

“Yeah.”

“And its…”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed with a long sigh.

They relaxed in the water as the sun started it descent towards the horizon. Eva held her position against the wall, talking with Connie and trying like hell to keep her eyes and her hands off Horacio. It seemed all too easy for him to act casually—a little sarcasm here, a little small talk there. She envied that ability. Her body, already attuned to him, seemed constantly on edge. Anticipation simmering under her skin to the point that she was surprised the water around her wasn’t gently steaming.

Too soon, a couple men in uniforms approached the gate, yelling out towards them. Connie grumbled and loudly announced that their time was at an end. They were, evidently, being forced out. After gathering the cooler and towels, they headed inside.

The phone was ringing, pausing the conversation for a moment.  Steve answered it, speaking for a few minutes, then hanging it up. He looked annoyed.

“Well, looks like we’re heading into the office tomorrow.”

Connie scowled, “Its a Sunday.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve replied with a shake of his head, “We’ve got a meeting. You too, Carrillo.”

Beside her, Carrillo put his hands on his hips, “They tell you want its about?”

“Nope, just said we report in at eight.”

Eva pushed her wet hair back from her face then pulled her cover up over her body despite the fact that her suit was still pretty wet, “They say anything about me coming in?”

Steve opened the cooler and popped the top off another beer, “No. I think its just us three.”

She nodded. Highly classified meeting, then. She didn’t want to admit that she felt left out, so she shrugged and said, “Alright. I’m going to head home. Thank you for having me over, Connie.”

Connie hugged her, “Thanks for coming over and saving me from hearing more about office politics.”

They said their goodbyes and Eva headed out into the night, stars just beginning to shine above her. A little tipsy, she strolled along leisurely, not surprised when Carrillo followed.

“That was really fun,” she said when he moved up beside her, keeping pace.

He made a noncommittal sound, his gaze focused in front of them.

“When was the last time you actually spent a weekend afternoon not attached to your desk doing paperwork?”

Or, attached to her kitchen island, or the little dining room table in the nook of his house. More often than not, he brought files home with him. Eva had seen him sign his name so many times she could have probably forged it by now.

Lifting a shoulder, he replied, “Its been a long time.”

Eva scratched at the skin above her brow, a little unsure of herself, “You should do things for fun more often.”

He looked at her, “I assume you have ideas.”

“I might,” she said coyly, spinning to walk backwards in front of him, “There’s apparently some beautiful scenery, here.  We could go hiking.”

His brows lifted and she could see a ghost of a smile, “We could do that.”

“Alright, its decided, then. We’ll go hiking when you get some time off.”

Eva knew that it was a long shot that he’d have more than a day off at a time, if past history was anything to go by. Still, it was nice to make plans, ambiguous as the timing may be. She hadn’t ever made plans like this before, and the prospect made her warm inside.

Keying into her apartment, Eva left the door open for him to come in. She started to say something innocuous about being home again, but she was cut off. Horacio grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into his body and kissed her. She gave a stilted gasp, arms coming up to rest on his biceps.

Hands traveling down her body, he scrunched the fabric of her cover up in his palms, pulling it up and over her head. When he slipped the pads of his fingers down into her suit bottoms, Eva stepped back, pulling him along with her.

“I have to get this chlorine out of my hair,” she explained, pacing backwards towards the bathroom, “You want to join me?”

Fire sparked in his eyes, his steps guiding her back and into her bedroom, rounding the corner and pushing her into the bathroom. As she moved to turn on the taps, he pulled at the ties of her top, throwing the fabric to the floor. After doing the same with her bottoms, he yanked her back into his chest, one hand tracing down her stomach in a confident caress.

He cupped her mound, fingers sliding through her folds and pressing firmly.  Eva swallowed back a moan, head tipped back as he kissed along her shoulder down to her collarbone. Steam began to fill the room, heat wafting from the shower. She reluctantly pulled away, tugging off his shirt and swim trunks and stepping into the spray.

Eva half expected that he would push her against the tile and fuck her against it. His touch was impatient in a way that was new and shot heat straight into her core. She was, however, surprised to find that he reached down and grabbed her shampoo, lathering it through her strands thoroughly. He crowded her under the water, tilting her head around to rinse the suds away. She watched him grab a loofah and pour some body wash on it, her skin sizzling with anticipation.

Long, careful strokes swept the pool water from her body. She could feel the arousal that was always at a low simmer ramping up even though his touch wasn’t remotely sexual. Unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to his sternum, resting her forehead against his chest. He sighed, his arms wrapping around her.

Wanting to return the favor, Eva reached back and took the loofah from him, running it over his broad chest, his stomach, his thighs. Though his erection bobbed up between them, she avoided it for the moment. Switching sides with him, she let the water fall over his body, her hands pushing the soap down towards the tub.

Dropping the loofah, Eva grabbed the shampoo and poured just a little into her hand, arms lifting to gently scrub it through his curls, finally free of the pomade he regularly combed through it. Using her nails, she lightly scratched at his scalp, smiling when his eyes closed in pleasure. Tilting his head back, Eva rinsed the shampoo from his hair, hands tracing down his face and neck.

Leaning down, Horacio’s lips found hers, his tongue darting out to taste. The water falling over his back sluiced down to run between her breasts and down her stomach. Eva pressed against him rolling her hips invitingly.

He broke the kiss with a moan, one hand grabbing her ass. Eva knew that, if she didn’t act quickly, he’d slot his fingers inside her and she would cease to be able to think, let alone respond. The omega in her loved that he was taking care of her, reveled in it, even. But the omega in her also wanted to make him want her just as much as she wanted him, wanted him feeling wild with it.

Lightly, so as to not give herself away, Eva traced down his chest, palm turning so that she could grasp him in her hand. He rested his forehead against her temple, mouth open, breath stuttering. She pumped him slowly, but firmly, wrist twisting at the top.

When the hand holding her hip started to dip down towards her center, Eva stopped him, holding him by the wrist. She kissed him, teeth catching at his lower lip. The wrist in her palm flexed as he tried to pull free. Eva shook her head, stroking him just a little faster. He groaned, pushing his thigh between hers, using the hand on her ass as leverage to drag her clit against him.

He breathed her name, the sound of it loud against the tiled walls. Eva felt her chest swell at the strain in his tone, power building with every choked moan, every sigh. She watched him lick his lips, her gaze dropping to his cock. He was hard, pulsing, his hips tilting towards her. It was a sight that she knew would always be with her, a feverish memory locked intimately with his scent.

As she contemplated dropping to her knees, the water began to turn cold. Eva laughed as he hissed, spinning to turn off the faucet. When he looked at her, Eva’s laughed faded, blood rushing in her ears at the intensity of his expression. He ushered her out of the tub, hands pushing her forward. Impatient, he hauled her up and over his shoulder, walking quickly to the bed.

He tossed her down, her body bouncing with the force. Eva watched him crawl over her, the muscles of his body flexing with every motion. More deep, intense kisses followed, his hands arranging her beneath him. When she reached for him, he swatted her away, lifting to his knees. Balanced over her, Horacio opened the nightstand to grab a condom.

When he paused, brows together, Eva asked him what was wrong, her voice a hoarse rasp.

His eyes closed, his chin dropping to his chest, “We’re out.”

She squinted up at him, “Out?”

“Of condoms, we’re out.”

That was impossible. She’d gone out and bought some maybe two days ago, they couldn’t possibly…Her brain very eagerly explained that they had been having a lot of sex. Eva tried to suppress it, but the giggle burst forth, her hands coming up to cover her face.

Horacio looked down at her, mouth half smiling, “I’m glad you’re amused.”

Affectionately, Eva pulled him down to her, rolling them to their sides, “C’mere.”

Her name was a warning as it passed his lips, but she shut him up with a kiss. Stroking along his skin, Eva kept kissing him until he relaxed against her, big body falling deep into the mattress. Arms wrapping around her, he rolled to his back, pulling one of her legs over his thigh. Hands on her hips, he encouraged her to move on him.

Eva couldn’t get close enough, her hands falling to his shoulders, using them to help her get friction on her clit. She ground down on him, her slick coating his skin and easing the movement. Still, she couldn’t quite get there. Her arousal burned through her, soaking into her very bones, but she couldn’t make herself come.

Sweat beaded on her temples, her muscles burning. She bit down on her lip, eyes closed. It wasn’t going to work, not when she could feel him pressed against her hip. Not when all she wanted was to be stuffed so full of him that she could barely move.

Shifting, Eva wavered over his body, weight on her palms as she kissed him, licking into his mouth. Moving determinedly, she opened her hips and swung her leg up and over, straddling him. The first contact seared through her, and her body screamed out that this was much better. She rocked against him, hands falling to his chest for balance.

“Yes,” he breathed, urging her faster, hands pulling at her hips, her thighs, “Like that, just like that.”

Eva picked up the rhythm he was guiding her to, her body working to get off. This was so, so much better, but she still couldn’t get there.  She felt on fire from it, a whimpering, desperate mess. The orgasm was so fucking close, but not even his thumb circling over her clit was pushing her over the edge.  

He pulled her down, sandwiching his cock between them, hips arching towards her. Horacio planted kiss after kiss over her neck, her chest, her jawline, her mouth. Little yearning growls sounded in the space between them. Eva pulled her knees beneath her, letting her hips open so that she could rub as much of her pussy against him as she could.

Every upward thrust brushed against her clit, every twist of her hips, coated him from root to tip. The pace picked up, and Eva’s eyes rolled back when their bodies aligned perfectly so that the head breached her just a little, sliding in then out and along the length of her folds.

Eva moaned his name, her nails digging into his shoulders. Beneath her, Horacio groaned long and low, eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, he rolled her over, most of his weight falling atop her. His hands held her to the mattress so that he could grind down on her. Even though she could barely breathe, Eva let out a pleased gasp. The force of his body pushing against her, the way he buried his face in her neck, arms holding her tight, all of it pushed her pleasure higher.

“So good, so good,” she chanted, hands in his hair.

Lifting a little, he looked down between them, his cock pushing up through her her folds, wet and swollen. Hips fluid, he grabbed her ass in one hand, pulling her to him. Eva braced her feet on the mattress, shifting beneath him to get that feeling of him opening her up just a bit. It was almost enough, that tiny breach followed by a hard drag across her clit.

Giving a frustrated grunt, he dropped onto an elbow, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him,  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you have to stop trying to fuck me, Eva.”

She whined, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, “I can’t help it. I want it. Please, Horacio.” She stole a kiss, “Feels so good with you inside me. Love when you fuck me.”

Against her, he pulsed, hips jerking. He blinked down at her, jaw unhinged. Deep breaths, grip tight, “Evangeline. Listen...listen. I’m gonna.” The thought alone seemed to spur him on, movements snapping against her, “I’m gonna… you need to listen. When I tell you, you need to let me pull out.”

Eager, she nodded, taking another kiss as he lined himself up and pushed inside. This, this was what she needed. Fuck, but he felt bigger than he ever had, the stretch tight. Eva arched, pushing her breasts into his chest, neck exposed for him to mouth along. Her body clenched so tight he couldn’t get more than an inch or two inside.

“Fuck, Eva. You have to let me in.” The words were half growled against her neck, teeth pressed against her skin.

She bit down on her response, “I’m trying.”

He pulled back, another thrust stunted by the squeeze of her cunt. His fists clenched beside her head, a wordless groan sounding.

“Try harder.”

Eva breathed deeply, trying to form coherent thoughts, “Maybe if you, if I...if you let me on top.”

He shook his head hard, “No. No—feels too good when you ride me.”

A laughed bubbled up, Eva cupped his face, catching his eyes, “Its supposed to feel good.”

“Too good. Come too fast,” he breathed, then, “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He still hadn’t bottomed out inside her, and Eva’s desperation grew every time he pulled out and pushed in again. She wanted him deeper, harder, wanted him to hold her down and leave bruises in his wake. In between breaths a plan formed. Eva reached down and grasped his hips for purchase, pulling him down as she rotated her hips up. Yes, yes! The feeling spanned electric down her spine.

With a curse, he snagged her hands, yanking them above her head, her name a warning on his lips. She arched her back, her hips working against him, moving on him from below. Ignoring a second warning, Eva rolled her hips as best she could, taking him further and further. He’d stilled above her, eyes watching as she moved.

His hands gripped her tighter, voice rough, “Look at you.”

She kept throwing her hips up until she’d worked him all the way inside, the feeling short circuiting any ability to think beyond the ‘more, more more’ that chanted in her head.

“There you go,” he praised, “Take what you need. Take it from me.”

The snap of his hips resumed, shoving his cock inside her and hitting every pleasurable spot she had. Eva felt a sharp, high pitched gasp rush out of her. Words fell from her lips, encouraging him, telling him how good it felt, how much she needed him, nonsense syllables rising along with the orgasm that fairly exploded outward from her center, her muscles locking down on him from the inside.

He rode her through as much of it as he could before he pulled away, reaching down to stroke himself—fast, hard pumps until he was spilling over her lower stomach. Still breathing hard, Eva leaned up and wiped the sweat from his brow, kissing his cheek softly. His come dripped over her mound, falling down over her lips. He watched it with dark eyes, jaw tight.

With one hand, he pushed her back to the mattress, the other threw a leg over his shoulder as he moved down the bed, mouth on her before she could draw her next breath. Eva might have had the capacity to be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of her, the choked, half screamed moans, but her body was already skyrocketing towards another orgasm. What pushed her over the edge was the sight of his hand, resting on her pelvic bone, sliding upwards to drag his come over her skin, his eyes watching her face. She threw back her head, cunt clenching down hard enough that her vision blacked out momentarily.

For a long time, she could only stare at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. She felt him move, heard his footsteps, sighed at the warm cloth he dragged over her sensitive skin so tenderly.  He threw the cloth towards the bathroom, gathering her in his arms. She fell asleep to the feeling of him kissing her shoulder softly.

[airi-p4]

Last chance - Chapter 1

Ready for a new multi-chapter Lukanette angst fic? ;)

Rated: T

AO3 Link

___________________________________________________

Marinette’s POV

He’s gone.

I took him for granted. For my second chance, my second choice, my plan B. And now he’s gone.

I should have noticed when he kissed me. I thought it was out of greed or desperation, maybe jealousy. But it was not. It was his way to say goodbye. His last attempt to make me notice him. But I only hurt his feelings. And now he’s gone.

For some days, I thought it was alright. Sad, but still alright. He was my second, after all. I should be fine as long as my first choice and the love of my life was still there.

Until it wasn’t.

No matter how much time I spent with my boyfriend, it was never enough to fill in the void he left with me. No matter how many days, weeks, months or years passed by, my emptiness couldn’t be filled back.

I cried a lot, without knowing the reason why. For months, for years. Hiding my tears from my boyfriend.

And then I finally understood everything.

How he had never been my second choice. How he was always the one supporting me. My pillar. How I can’t be happy in a world without him.

I understood what true love was.

Comfort, trust, safety. Good and bad times spent together. Always together. Treasuring each other. Peace.

I misunderstood it for too long and now it’s too late. He’s gone. And he’ll never be back.

It doesn’t matter if I broke my engagement. It doesn’t matter how much I keep writing him messages that I’m unable to send everyday. It doesn’t matter how much I need him. Or how he is the only one I can ever love. He’s gone. Getting married soon, and surely forgotten about me. Probably with the worst impression I could ever leave on him. And I can’t blame him. It was all my own fault.

*Flashback*

“Why… Luka, why did you kiss me? You know I’m with Adrien! You can’t do this against my will! Take it back! I don’t want Adrien to hate me!”

“I’m not taking it back. NEVER”

“I HATE YOU!”

*Flashback ends*

How come I never noticed his pain? Why did I never consider his feelings? I was fond of his love for me. I would internally brag to myself for it. How Marinette is loved by two fantastic boys… How could I ever attempt to get him back after that? He hates me for sure. I hate myself for that, so of course he must hate me too.

Why give it a second chance to a love that ended once? Why should I retry going back to him when his feelings must be fully buried under the sea of his heart, dead. Would it be possible to access there through his deep, calm water-colored eyes? No, of course no. Because he is no longer here. He’s gone.

But how can I keep on going when I’m hurting this much? All my inspiration dried out, only anger, sadness and loneliness kept me going. And my head keeps spinning around, stressing over and over about how I’ll never be able to correct my mistakes.

And now I’ve sunk to the bottom. The dark bottom of my heart. Pitch black. Not a single spark of light is there. Nor hope.

I wonder how many days it has been. Weeks? Months, maybe? I see how my skin is getting whiter and I’m getting skinnier as time goes by. But I can’t help it. I’m not hungry, not even thirsty, not even sleepy. Physical pain has no effect on me anymore. But my heart… All my pain concentrated in that single spot of my body.

I can’t take it anymore… I want to disappear. Just fuse myself with the darkness I’m surrounded by. Turn ashes, or water, or air… maybe a star, if I’m lucky enough. Maybe… If some of Ladybug’s magic luck remains on me… just maybe... a miracle could happen.

Oh

Maybe, it can happen. Maybe I can do it.

I have nothing to lose, and everything to win.

Maybe I don’t have my second chance anymore but I can have one last chance- that’s right, the rabbit miraculous.

It’s been years since I returned the Miraculous box to the Temple of the Miraculous, but I’m still its Guardian. And I still have the only key to open it.

I can do it.

And if the rabbit fails I can always use the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous together… NO… I shouldn’t... If my most precious thing is taken, then there’s no reason to use the wish. I have to make it right with the rabbit. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. I’ll correct this timeline. I’ll rewrite the past, change this reality and be happy at last. It's my only hope.

My last chance.

I stand up from my desk and pass through the door to go see my secretary.

“Sabrina, buy me a ticket to Tibet for tomorrow and cancel all my appointments for this and next week”

“Are you sure, Marinette?” she is surprised. Of course she would be.

“Do it. Tell all the employers they have a two week vacation break”

“Understood. Any seat preference for the plane?”

“I don’t care about that. Just buy me the flight that leaves the earlier the better. I'm counting on you.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as it’s booked”

That’s why I like her. So reliable. “Thanks”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re smiling again. You look way prettier now”

I never noticed I was smiling, or that my face looked better. Is it the power of hope? Probably. I just need to get my things ready. Knowing Sabrina, my leave will be imminent.

I leave the office and reach home in 10 minutes and the phone rings just 10 minutes later.

“Marinette, it’s Sabrina. Your flight is leaving tomorrow morning, 10AM. Be there 2 hours earlier for security procedures.”

“Thanks, Sabrina. I owe you one”

“No, you don’t. I’m always glad to help a friend. I hope you can find what you’re looking for there. Have a safe trip”

“Thank you. Enjoy your vacation”

“I surely will. See you later”

It’s still somewhat strange how my enemy and rival’s BFF is now my secretary. I’m glad I can call her my friend now. She has helped me in a lot of ways, but not even Sabrina or Alya, or any of my friends can cure my loneliness. Not when he is no longer by my side...

The next day, 8AM.

Charles de Gaulle, Paris' International Airport

It’s been a while since I was last here. Since… yeah, that time. The time I tried to reach out to Luka after knowing he was leaving. The day I keep regretting over and over for all these years. Regretting how I never made it on time before he left. How he left just like that, from one day to another. No goodbye. Nothing. He was just gone. I couldn’t stop him and we've never met again after that. Just stepping here triggers the memories of that day I keep trying to bury deep inside my mind.

Yes. It was also that day. The day after the kiss. Our first and only kiss. The kiss I refused to accept for months but that I would give anything now for it to repeat.

Which is exactly what I’m about to do.

I’ve been avoiding coming here all these years for a reason, relying on private planes and small airports. But now I’m here to make this reason disappear. So I can go back to the time he was here. The time I was unknowingly the happiest. Not because of Adrien or any of my friends. Just because Luka was still there, by my side.

I still feel stupid how I didn’t notice my feelings earlier. Even my own feet knew better than me. Anytime I needed support, Luka was the answer. Anytime I needed calm, Luka was there for me. Anytime I wanted to share some happy news, Luka was always happy on my behalf. Anytime I needed a shoulder to cry on, Luka lent me his. And even after he left, my feet kept taking me to where he used to be. Even if his boat was nowhere to be seen anymore. Even if his apartment had a new tenant. My feet always knew better than me. Searching him felt like a need for my body.

But now these feet need to go to a far place, trespassing first through the main doors of the airport.

I search for my flight on the big screen. 10AM, Beijing. There it is. Counter… OK, I know where to go. Tibet, here I come.

I can only take 5 steps until I collide into something. A person. Familiar clothes. Too familiar, maybe. And not the ones I wished to see.

“I can’t let you go, Marinette”

“Alix...”

“I know what you are about to do. I’ve been warned. I can’t let you do it”

“Alix, I need to go. I really need to do this.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t”

“I will”

“You need to stop. You should know better than anyone the consequences. The reason you took away my miraculous… everyone's miraculous... I can’t let you do it”

“Well, Alix, I’m sorry, but you can’t stop me! Look at me. Do I look like I have anything to lose? Do you think I’m strong enough to keep living like this? With all this regret? With this pain? Surrounded by pitch black darkness? No! I’m not strong enough. I’ve tried for so long… I thought I could move on, but I couldn’t! And I can’t take it anymore... ”

“There are other ways…”

“Oh, yeah, I thought of other ways too. The only other one that could probably convince me was jumping from the balcony of my 5th floor apartment. Or maybe from the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug dying on the Eiffel Tower would be even more dramatic, even poetic, I would say. Should I go with this instead?”

“Marinette. There ARE other ways”

“No, there ARE NOT. You know how I work. How I always find a plan for everything. How Ladybug can make anything succeed. Well, this time my only plan involves the Miraculous. So I have no choice but to do it”

“You don’t understand”

“I DO understand. I can’t keep living like this anymore. Luka is getting married. I’ve been avoiding all his dating news, but you can’t run away from them when an internationally well-known French Rock Star like him gets engaged to Chloé Bourgois, former Queen Bee and one of the best stylists in the world. Which means, I don’t have a second chance anymore. It’s too late. He’s gone. Forever. And I’ll also be gone forever too if I don’t go to Tibet right now. Just look at me! Regret is destroying me from my insides. I have nothing to lose anymore...”

Sabrina had tried to hide Chloé’s Wedding Day from me, knowing how I was pining over Luka. But she received an invitation to their wedding, and she marked it on her personal journal. She asked me if she could have that day free. ‘Family matters’, she said. I knew she was being considerate, but knowing Luka was going to be married in two months made him completely unreachable for me. No more draft messages could help me calm down anymore. And the fact that I’m not even invited… It only makes it clearer how he despises me, hates me… or maybe how he has completely erased myself from his memories. I’ve hurt him for so long, so it’s only natural but… not even time can heal me.

But I can restore everything with the Miraculous magical powers.

“You really DO NOT understand”

“I DO! Why do you keep telling me I don’t? I’m greedy! Having my friends is not enough for me anymore! I NEED him. It’s always been him!”

“Marinette. LISTEN TO ME. I’m here because YOU - The future YOU, asked me to come”

“I don’t believe it”

“Futurebug said you wouldn’t. But you need to, because you still have a second chance”

“That’s impossible. I’ve been thinking about this for years and there is no other way, I’m sure of it”

“NO. You’ve just been too scared to try. There’s something you can still do. Something you’ve been too scared to do. The answer you’ve been looking for has always been in your hands. Inside your draft folder. Why haven’t you tried to reach him? Why did you keep your feelings to yourself? You are too afraid of rejection. That’s why you never tried”

Alix is right. I’m scared- no, I’m TERRIFIED. I’ve always been. Every single day since he left. Rejection would be the final piece to my complete defeat. Funny how humans' survival instincts worked… Always avoiding damage, trying hard to live no matter what… That’s what I’ve been doing since that day. I tried replacing his place with Adrien’s love, but it didn’t work out. Everything I tried failed. But I'm afraid Alix is right: I can’t say I put all my effort on Luka. Not when I couldn’t dare to see, talk or even contact him out of my fear. Fear of rejection. Can I be more pathetic?

“Marinette. Just send them. All of them. All your drafts. Send them to him. Let him know how you feel”

“And what would be the point? That would change nothing. He’s getting married, nothing I do can change that. Not after all these years…”

“Why don’t you try? You said it yourself: you have nothing to lose. Give it a try”

She’s right… I have nothing to lose… And if I fail, I can always continue with my plan to change the past and to make this timeline disappear -even with the consequences it would take. I’m still afraid but...

“Ok. I’ll do it. I’ll send them. But with one condition”

“I'm all ears. You know that, Buginette”

“If I do… if I send them… You are not interfering with my plan anymore”

“Deal. But only if you send them ALL, and NOW. In front of me, and wait one week before doing anything stupid”

“ALL of them? There’s more than 900…”

“I know. Almost one for every day you were apart... I want you to send them all. Don’t make that disgusted face. We have a deal?”

“OK. I’m sending all of them. But we have a deal. You’re not interfering anymore”

I know I have nothing to lose but this is still not as easy as I thought… Unlock screen, Mail, Draft folder, there it is. Send them all button… Is my smartphone screen looking blurry? Why is it so hard to press a single button that’s just in front of me? Wait. How do I know he hasn’t changed his e-mail address? Or maybe erased it? I can’t know... but I can not not send them… I have a deal with Alix, and I really want to take this last chance... My finger is just over the button. Just one touch and… press.

“That’s it. Sent”

“Well done, Buginette! I’m proud of you!”

I can’t believe I really sent all those, after all this time… I’m somehow… relieved. Being held by Alix has a slightly calming effect on me too. When did she grow so tall?

“Hey! Don’t cry, Marinette… Now you can go on without regret… you did your best”

I don’t know when I started crying. I didn’t notice. I don’t know when I started clinging to Alix in order to cry desperately. Like a little child who misses his mother or like if someone has just presenciated they loved one’s final breath. I can feel how all the tears I’ve been collecting inside my heart for a long time have started spilling from my eyes. Unstoppable, salty, heavy. Filled with all these years sadness and regret. Now leaving my body drop by drop.

I don’t know how much time has passed. But I can hear how the airline is calling for me. I feel better, lighter. Something lifted from my body. But I’m scared. It’s not that I expect Luka to really see or answer my messages… but there’s that ‘what if?’ feeling one can’t avoid having after making a decision. Even more if it’s a matter of life decision like the one I just took.

“I have to go. Thanks Alix”

“Remember we have a deal. Don’t do anything stupid”

“I know. One week. I can do that. I have nothing to lose, anyway”

“Take care”

“Thanks Alix. You too”

I feel gross from all my crying. Wet, dirty, snots coming out my nose… Thank god Alix had some tissues with her… I used all of them and I still need more. I’ll have to go to the toilet after I finish my check-in. I’m thankful for Alix support, but I can’t look back. What’s the point of sending all those messages now, anyway? I have to be realistic. He’s gone. And this ticket I’ve just got is giving me one last chance.

My only and last chance.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 10/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: Everything from the previous chapter applies as far as the Walsh business is concerned. Other than that, a very tame chapter. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: So, this is the last main chapter. There is an epilogue which I will post on Sunday, and then this grand adventure will be wrapped up! Thanks for being with me on this ride and for any comments, reblogs, and likes. I’m thankful beyond words. <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 10: Snowshine

Walsh still looks exactly the same as the last time she was here. Emma tries her best to keep her stomach calm when all she wants to do is throw up on his face, projecting an outward cool that she doesn’t feel as he enters the room and looks up at her. 

“What the - Emma? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Taking back what’s rightfully mine,” Emma says, gesturing to the box of pictures sitting on the bed beside her.

“Oh no, sweetheart. I would hardly call all of those yours.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, asshole.”

Through all of this, James has been watching a progress bar load on the computer screen. With a noise of victory, he looks back to her.

“There you go, Emma. All done.”

“You brought David with you? Mr. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly?”

“Oh, buddy, believe me. You’re gonna wish I was David by the end of this. Good job hosting a whole website with a bunch of non-consensual photos on it. But shame on you for making it so easy to break into.”

“You have another brother?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you that David was an identical twin?”

At the little jingle that plays from the desk, he tries to push James out of the way. “What did you do to my computer?”

“Gave it a little tune up,” James tells him, crossing his arms with pride as a little unicorn marches into the center of the screen. 

All three of them watch with rapt attention as the unicorn stands and waves, before squatting. 

“Oh my god,” Emma says, bursting out in laughter as the unicorn defecates in the shape of an artfully written “fuck you” in rainbow colors. 

After a couple seconds, the whole thing emits a screeching noise and shuts off with a loud pop. 

“All your buddies that subscribed to your email list got something pretty similar. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll all open it but with the heading ‘Check out the brand new section!’ I’m willing to bet a lot of dudes are about to lose their computers.”

Walsh finally makes it around James, desperately trying to turn on his computer but nothing happens when he hits the button. “All of my business files were on there.”

“You kept all your shit on your personal computer? Wow. You’re even dumber than I thought.” James turns towards Emma on the tail of that thought. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Emma responds, picking up the box of photographs and handing it over to James. They manage to make it out of the bedroom before Walsh must come to his senses, and he’s after them immediately. 

His hand closes around Emma’s arm, and she spins around. On instinct, Emma swings as she breaks the hold. And while James misses taking a snapshot of that hit, he doesn’t miss the one where Emma knees him in the nuts hard enough to bring him to his knees. 

“I have the perfect new image for the welcome screen on his trash web page,” James says as Emma backs away. He holds the phone out for her to see and she just barely stops herself from cracking up. “Here, take this. I’ll be right behind you.” He hands over the box, gently ushering her towards the door. 

She doesn’t go far, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear what James has to say to Walsh. 

“Here’s the deal, you Wizard of Oz-looking monkey piece of shit. All of the accounts for that website are completely wiped out. All that money you made off of people like my sister? That money is so far offshore that you’ll never be able to trace it ever again. Got it?”

“I’ll call the cops,” Walsh says weakly.

“You won’t. You have no evidence. And if you try to do that, or ever try to do this again, I will screw up your whole life. We’re in a digital age now, Walsh Whitney Covington. I have everything of yours now. Personal records, social media, bank accounts, the password to your pretentious little LinkedIn page that lists you as a connoisseur of wood, which… come on, man.”

“That’s all illegal,” he whines back, and Emma is mostly just enjoying the snivelling tone in his voice. 

“Yeah? And? I’m sure Emma signed a consent form for those pictures you had posted of her, right? You had her sign away her financial freedoms for the profits on it, too? Don’t ever fuck with our family ever again or you’ll regret it.”

After a couple more minutes of silence, James exits the apartment and gives her a bright smile. 

“Now, that was a fun afternoon with my brother. See? We should bond like this more often,” Emma says as they make their way out of the building and back down to where he parked his car. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. Jack would kill me if she found out this is how I spent my day.”

“You’re still with Jack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I did marry her, after all. She wanted to wait until she made partner to have a baby and so I switched gears and became a stay-at-home dad after she went back from maternity leave. It helps to have a super lawyer as your wife.”

“None of the words that just came out of your mouth are what I was expecting when I called you about all this.”

“Well, it’s not like I send out Christmas cards with updates on the family,” James says, a little resignation in his voice. 

“Did you really take all the profits from the website?”

“And refunded the money you spent on that settee you bought there back before you started dating.”

Just as he says it, Emma’s phone dings with a notification. There’s a message from her bank saying there’s been a deposit into her account. Looking at the numbers, it’s way more than what she paid for the moderately priced item, but James shrugs. 

“Maybe I got the numbers backwards in my head. Added an extra digit. Whatever. So you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend? You haven’t changed your status on Facebook.”

“You follow my social media?”

“Just because I don’t let any of you know about what’s going on in my life doesn’t mean I don’t check up on you.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be at a Christmas party for his company down in New York but someone insisted we do this today.”

He rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs into the driver’s seat. No sooner is she seat-belting in when another notification chimes on her phone. 

“Did you seriously just buy me a plane ticket to New York City?”

“I’ll hand all of that over to David,” James says, indicating the box she placed in the backseat. “Besides, he and I are severely overdue for a brotherly chat.” Without another word, he starts a route for the airport. 

“When was the last time you had one of those? When you were fifteen?”

“Something like that. Hey, text him and let him know what’s going on. I should be back there in about an hour but I don’t want him to worry.”

She shakes her head, doing as he asked and sending a message to David. 

As they pull up outside the airport, Emma turns to James. “So, what do I still owe you?”

“Nothing. I got the cash he had stashed in his desk, all the money from his subscription side of the website, and free childcare for the evening after Jack gets home from the office today.”

“Did you tell David that yet?”

“No, but I will. And you know he will - he’s David. Go on,” he tells her when they arrive a short time later. “Enjoy the party.”

“Okay then. And hey, thanks for all your help. I couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Emma?” 

Her door is open and she’s just about to climb out when he says her name. 

“It was nice seeing you,” he admits. 

She leans in quickly and hugs him, noting how familiar yet utterly foreign it feels. “Come visit us sometime,” she tells him as she pulls away. She stands there until his car pulls away and he’s out of view before she walks through the doors. 

Somehow, James managed to get her the perfect flight so she had enough time to get through security, although she looks suspicious as hell going in with nothing but her purse, if you ask her. It’s still considered early when she lands in the city, but with nothing else with her, she has to get party-ready with nothing but the money in her bank account. Thanks to James, there’s a little bit extra to play with in there.

Emma feels like she should be in some cheesy movie montage as she struggles to find everything she’ll need to get ready. Hair and makeup come first, and she’s thankful the salon isn’t far from a decent looking clothing shop or else her charges in cab fares alone would’ve gotten out of hand. 

The dress she finds is perfect - a sleek, black number that doesn’t fit too tight but that doesn’t hide her shape. It’s similar enough to the dress she was planning on wearing to this, the one she borrowed from Ruby as a first-date possibility but put aside in favor of the soft pink she wore instead. She admires the whole look in the mirror as the shop attendant helps her clip tags after Emma pays. She buys two pairs of shoes - a cute pair of cutout ankle boots and a pair of flats - in anticipation of the point in the party where she’ll want to feel her toes again. 

It’s only once she’s fully satisfied with the total picture that she heads out, making sure everything she wore down here is tucked securely into the weekender bag the attendant helped her pick out. 

This time, she opens the rideshare app for a little more comfort, and then it’s off to the Manhattan Penthouse to finally get to where she wants to be.

-x-

Tucking away the knowledge that Robin just gave him, Killian settles into his seat with only a lone glance at the empty chair beside him. He has Henry on his other side, and the rest of the Mills-Hood family in the remaining seats. They’ve not even begun when he receives a sharp, bony elbow to the side. 

“Hey,” Henry whispers as he leans close. “Isn’t that Emma?”

He turns his head, glancing in the direction Henry is pointing, and his breath catches. Sure enough, Emma is standing there in a black dress that surely should be illegal to look so good in. Her hair and makeup are all done, and she’s scanning the room. It takes another elbow to his ribs for Killian to finally stand up, waving over his girlfriend and attempting to wipe the surprise off his face while he does.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re just in time, actually. I’m so… don’t get me wrong, Swan, but I never expected you’d be able to make it.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek and taking a moment to soak up her closeness.

“Yeah, well, sometimes when you make a deal with the devil to take down satan, you get what you want faster than you expected,” she says, and while he doesn’t fully understand, he knows he’ll get the full story later. 

He pulls out her chair for her, pushing it in as she sits. “I do believe we all know one another,” he says to the table at large. “I’d told them to cancel your meal, so excuse me while I get that turned around.”

“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here!” Henry who’d been sitting on his right, beams from ear to ear as he slides over to talk to her. 

“Hi Henry. Everyone. Glad I could make it.”

Hearing her voice and the animated conversation that sparks up between her and Henry immediately calms his nerves for the evening, and he hastens to find one of the caterers so he can return to the table. 

By the time their dinner is served, he’s noticed no less than four times Henry has pulled out his iPod to jot down something in his notes. He smiles as he watches it happen, watches the gears turn in the lad’s head and the magic take root. He manages to keep it in his pocket for the entirety of the meal, but he’s pretty sure that was due to a questioning look from Regina right as the salads were placed in front of them.

With the rest of the table occupied with their desserts, Killian takes a moment to lean over, keeping his voice low as he whispers in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she says, a satisfied little smile on her face. There’s been a peace evident on her face since the moment she walked in, and he’s intrigued but enjoying it. She was never too tightly wound to begin with, apart from the times she got stuck in her own head. This, he assumes, is due to the business with her ex being all wrapped up. 

After the dishes have been cleared, Killian rests in his seat for a bit. There’s still a lot more networking he’ll have to do, but for now he takes the time to relax as he and Robin discuss strategy for announcements. He’s in the middle of helping figure out the order when Emma’s hand creeps onto his thigh. His words falter for a moment, and he can see Emma’s smile get just a little wider. 

When her hand travels a little higher, he reaches down, knowing full well that his ears and cheeks are both bright with flush, and takes a moment when Robin is asking Henry a question to fully turn to her.

“Have pity on me,” he whispers, pulling her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it, and she laughs quietly, turning her palm to link her fingers with his. 

“Just this one time,” she concedes, settling in with their hands clasped. 

-x-

Walking into the venue, Emma is momentarily overwhelmed. She forgot that the Storybrooke office isn’t the whole team, and that a lot of the authors would be there, so there’s just a sea of people as far as she can see across the space. But then Killian stands up, her eyes finding his as he waves her over. 

And it’s halfway between where she is and where he’s waiting that it hits her full in the gut: She is in love with Killian. She is so in love with that man that she can hardly stand it. He has never once looked at her differently or placed unrealistic expectations on her - he never set out to hurt her. 

There, with the lights of the chandeliers glittering overhead, and the backdrop of the city getting dusted in snow, Emma realizes that she is looking at the man she wants to spend all of her time with if she can. Her heart squeezes, even as she smiles and accepts the kiss he places on her cheek as they settle in.

It’s the first time she’s ever been to a party like this, and she has to think it’s going pretty well. While Killian is occupied with his duties, Emma offers to watch Roland so Regina can go with Robin as he makes rounds to greet everyone. Emma follows him as he drags her from one end of the penthouse to the other, eager to show her anything and everything he can. 

By the end of the night, her feet hurt and she’s all too happy to get her belongings from the coat check room so she can slip on the flats she bought. She’s leaning against the wall, innocently trying to pry her feet out of the booties when Killian comes up behind her, his hand warm through the material of her dress and his voice hot in her ear. 

“Are you trying to kill me tonight?”

“I’m just trying to change my shoes. It’s not my fault your eyes automatically go to my ass when you approach me.”

He looks affronted when she turns to look at him, a smile hiding behind the expression.

“Besides,” she says, “I just can’t wait for you to get me out of this dress.”

“I’m ordering us a car right now.”

It’s amazing; she knows he prefers the quiet and solitude of their little town, but he performs so well in the city - like he was built to live here - and she loves that he chooses not to. They’re both on their best behavior in the car, but Killian purposely sat on her left so his hand can rest on her knee. Rather than spiking that part in her that’s always game for another round of sex, though, it reignites her thoughts from when she entered the party and she stares at him in the dark as the city lights pass them by.

When he notices, he turns to her with a peaceful look on his face, and they smile at each other. “What?” he asks, his fingers tightening once.

“Nothing,” she replies, taking the moment to rest her head on his shoulder for the rest of the journey. “Tonight was great.”

Back at the hotel, they at least manage to settle a bit before Killian follows through with her request, with both of them sighing as the dress slips from her shoulders and drops lightly to the floor. They take their time, slow and languid, savoring each moment with each other.

“I know I’ve said this plenty of times, but I am so happy you were able to make it,” Killian tells her as their skin is still cooling. She needs to go wash the makeup from her face but she’s not quite sure her legs will function in order to do so.

“Me too.” She stares at him, her eyes roaming his face and sinking into the wonder that has been the last three months of her life, thanks to this man.

“What is it?” he asks, his expression serious as he tries to figure out what she’s thinking.

“I… want to thank you for everything. You went into this without knowing and you still haven’t pushed me to talk about what happened or anything and so I just… wanted to say thanks.”

His smile falters, still there but just a touch disappointed that the words weren’t the ones he was expecting after she set it up to be something else, and she knows how it feels. Her thumb strokes along his cheek, pushing at his smile briefly as she leans in to kiss him. 

Maybe next time, she thinks as she moves to the bathroom to clean up before climbing back into bed. Outside, the city keeps moving on as their world slows for sleep. 

-x- December 21: Saturday

As usual, Killian is the one that wakes up first. He sets about ordering breakfast and jumps in the shower in the interim. Emma is awake and sitting up in bed when he comes back out, and he leans over the bed to kiss her good morning. 

“David texted me that he’s on his way home. He has everything we took from Walsh and he’s going to drop it off at my place.”

“That’s certainly good news. Even better news is I have coffee and breakfast being delivered soon.”

She chuckles at that. “Perfect. I wish I had more clothes with me, but I suppose yesterday’s will be fine.”

“My luggage is yours, love. I always pack extra just in case, so help yourself.”

Which seemed like a good idea, until Emma walks out of the bathroom after her own shower in one of his button up shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her supple form filling out the garment better than he ever could. 

They eat breakfast in bed, the curtains flung open wide to let in the weak, winter sunshine. As they graze their food, Emma books her ticket for their return to Storybrooke, crowing in victory when she scores a seat on Killian’s flight.

“I’ll text David and see if he can pick us up,” Emma tells him when they’re getting ready for their outside adventure, pulling her hat securely over her ears and wrapping her scarf around her neck.

They brave the cold to hit some of the popular winter activities in the city, taking in the Christmas markets and strolling Fifth Avenue. In the early evening, they meet up with Robin, Regina, and the two boys again to enjoy dinner together. With the pressure from the night before long gone, they talk instead of the upcoming holidays. 

It’s clear that Henry is willing to keep the magic alive for Roland, asking the younger boy what he’s planning on asking for Christmas when they go to see Santa after the meal is over. When Killian catches Henry’s eye a short bit later, the lad smiles and gives him a thumbs up. 

After dinner, they set out on their own again to see the Rockefeller tree in person. They stand there, watching the lights twinkle and the skaters on the rink until neither of them can feel their toes and their noses are bright red. 

Sinking into their hotel bed that night, Killian makes sure to set his alarm, but Emma grabs for it before he can set it down.

“Just wanted to double check. Wouldn’t want to miss your alarm or anything,” she says, that smile hidden in the corner of her mouth. 

“Cheeky woman,” he says quietly, making sure to kiss her hard and lovely before they each burrow under the covers. 

There’s another message from David waiting for Emma when they wake up letting her know they’ll be there to pick them up. Thankfully, with no luggage, their disembarking process is much faster and they’re able to get out of the departure door right as David and Snow pull up.

While they go their separate ways when they get back to town, he and Emma have a standing appointment for later in the afternoon to take everything that was acquired from Walsh’s apartment to send it off properly, as she did with her uniform. 

He sets to work on a mission, unpacking his bag and stripping off his dirty clothes to throw everything in his hamper. There’s still time before he meets with Emma, but since he’s been out of town since Friday, he’s behind on his weekend duties and he knows he’ll feel better if he takes the time to do it now rather than waiting. He throws his clothes in the wash, opting for warmer clothes for their task ahead. Instead of sitting around and waiting for the machine to be done, he takes the time instead to pack a picnic of sorts for the task ahead of them. Those items and a blanket all go into a tote bag he got from the last publishing conference he attended. 

Shortly after his laundry is folded and put away, Emma breezes through the door with a large box in her arms. 

“Ready?”

“Aye, just let me grab my keys.”

He locks the door behind them on their way out, and then they make their way to the beach closest to his flat. There’s a fire pit that was built ages ago, large stones surrounding it and a fresh pile of logs that Killian would place money on betting that David set it up for them. 

As he sets to work lighting the fire, he hands Emma the tote to start unpacking their items. She hums happily as she finds the soup, and again when she opens the second thermos that has the hot chocolate. He’s just finishing with his task when he turns to see her pouring the drink into each mug he brought, and raises an eyebrow as she tips a generous amount of whiskey into each one. 

She shrugs when she sees his look. “Believe me, I’m going to need it,” she says after a sip to taste-test. 

They stay on the beach much longer than most people would in December, with fresh snow occasionally falling around them. But they make sure each individual picture makes it into the fire. As delicately as they can, they remove them from the box, and he hands a stack face-down to Emma for her to fold each picture so he can feed it into the fire. 

She sets the thumb drive on the rocks around the pit, making sure to give it a solid stomp before throwing that in as an afterthought. 

“I’m sure it’s terrible for the environment but I need that thing wiped from existence.”

When each item has met its demise, including the box it was all packed away in, Emma puts out the fire using every precaution he’s sure David taught her.

Back in the comforting warmth of his place, Killian pulls out every blanket he owns and waits for Emma to come out of his bedroom from getting changed into pajamas. He piles them on top of her, going to change his own clothes before joining her on the couch. He holds her while she processes the whole thing - some anger and tears, some relief, until she falls asleep on Killian’s shoulder and he has to shift around until they can both stretch out. 

He doesn’t fall asleep until long after she does, whispering a quiet “I love you” against her hair before he finally falls asleep, as well. 

-x- December 23: Monday

They’re still on the couch when Emma wakes up, if only just barely. She’s facing Killian, her back pressed against the couch, with Killian’s arm looped over her waist. She’s just opening her eyes when she hears his gasp and then he’s teetering off the edge. Now wide awake, she peers down to see Killian wincing on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, love,” he grumbles, rubbing his head where it smacked on the floor. She’s stifling laughter when he leans up and kisses her softly. “Good morning to you, my sweet couch hog.”

“We could’ve moved at any time. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I love you and wanted you to rest more than I cared about my own comfort,” he responds, only realizing as he finishes speaking that he may have said too much. His eyes, wider and brighter blue than she’s ever seen them, meet her steady gaze.

“I love you, too. But that’s a little dramatic of a reason for why you’re now on the floor.”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. Or time. This time just happens to be on my remarkably uncomfortable area rug.” She can’t help the laugh that slips out this time and she runs her hands through his hair. Hangover be damned, she loves this man so much.

“Thanks again for last night. I was a bit of a mess,” she says, even though it feels like a vast understatement to what she actually was the day before. He waves his hand to dismiss her words.

“Sometimes, we just need to throw a mini-rager and burn a bunch of illegally obtained pornographic materials. You sure we’ll never need any of that as evidence in case there’s some kind of criminal investigation?”

“James was pretty clear with Walsh about what would happen to him if he tried to pursue legal action. Not only that, but every picture on the website has been removed and the only thing that pops up when the site is unlocked now is a picture of Walsh clutching his junk with an expression of pain on his face.” 

“I wish I could’ve been there to see you make that hit,” Killian admits, pushing up off the cushion to stand. “Come, love, let’s sail away to the kitchen where I can recite dirty poetry to you and make you breakfast.”

She laughs as she takes his hand, because while he doesn’t recite dirty poetry, he does make her breakfast and convince her to play hooky with him for the day. And when he takes her to bed a short time later, he infuses her skin with the words of his love over and over again. 

It’s the first time in years he doesn’t stick to any kind of routine at all, and they’re both perfectly okay with that. 

-x-

Epilogue

[daybreak-delusion]

Chapter 1

Introduction: Whitney Goodwinson was planning on inheriting one of her deceased grandmother's properties, but not a little house off the coast of North Carolina.  As she struggles to meet new people, fix up her new property, deal with troublemaker JJ Maybank, and perfect her grandmother's infamous lemonade she might just find that the Outer Banks has more to offer than it seems.

Series Masterlist

It was just like a regular family gathering. Aunt Elizabeth was wearing something that was completely inappropriate for a 50-year-old, cousin Will was shaking from cocaine withdrawals, and my mother was whispering more family gossip into my ear. Not the best circumstances for my grandmother's funeral, but she wouldn’t have expected much from us.

“This is ridiculous,” Mother hissed/whispered into my ear, “your grandmother always said that she wanted white roses not white lilies at her funeral,” she finally finished, sitting up straight in her chair. I just kept staring ahead trying to ignore the fact that my family is insane. Grandmother was the only thing keeping us all together and after her will reading, we would probably never see each other again. Allow me to explain, Grandfather was the highest paying heart surgeon in the L.A. county by the age of 30. He met my grandmother at a yacht club off the coast of North Carolina and I guess it was love at first sight. A load of bull that was, Grandfather had countless affairs and they barely stayed in the same home together. I guess that’s love.

“As we celebrate the life of Victoria Goodwinson, daughter, mother, and friend, we ask that the family come forward with their flowers,” said the perspiring priest gesturing towards the first row to step up.

“Come on,” grunted Father, leaving a laughable sweat mark on his seat. Honestly, who picked black for the color of death and why did Grandmother have to die in June? Whatever, we all got up and gathered our white roses, which triggered another comment from Mother, and headed to the casket. I adjusted my black dress and moved my straightened brown hair over my shoulder. I could tell from the look on my mother's face and the sweat on the back of my neck that my hair was probably frizzing up and going back to its waves. There goes another hour of straightening down the drain. Just like we practiced Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth's family went first, followed by Uncle Charles and Aunt Anne’s family, and finally our little whirlwind. Oldest to youngest, straight backs, and mournful looks on our faces. Sadly this meant that I would have to hold a sad face and stand with my shoulders back the longest. By the time it was my turn I had started seeing black dots. I placed my rose on top of the others and actually started to think about Grandmother for the first time since she died. It’s not like I was granddaughter of the year or anything but I still felt a close connection with Grandmother. She would always talk about her glamorous life in London, New York, and Singapore, the Channel fashion shows, and the exquisite champagne imported from Paris. She was the only adult that let me drink in her presence, so she was basically my favorite human being and ultimate role model. Then about two years ago Grandfather died. After that, she stowed away to the place where they met, and then she died. Snapping back to reality I realized the service was over. Let the games begin.

My relatives looked like lions chained up in a meat locker. We were all in the family mansion in L.A. patiently waiting for the attorney to show up. As patient as a bunch of spoiled rich children can. When the clock struck four minutes past 3 Uncle Richard started to pace, causing Aunt Elizabeth to convince him to sit down which caused an argument which caused an awkward feeling to rise in the room. Normal stuff. Thankfully the attorney walked in right as Uncle Richard was criticizing my father's necktie after he tried to stop him from throwing a vase. Everyone quickly shut up and put on their best phony smiles. This was it the real reason we all left our luxurious homes and spent 3 hours in the hot blistering California sun, the will. Now, Grandfather has left all of his assets to Grandmother and hopefully, the most valuable assets will be given to MY family. Personally I was hoping to be given her flat in London. Every summer I would spend a month there walking through the gardens, having tea in ancient places, and just spending time with her. It was my favorite city in the world and I couldn't wait to live there.

“Thank you all for gathering here today for the reading of Mrs. Victoria Goodwinson’s will and testament,” said the monotone attorney, “please save your questions for the end of the reading I’d like to begin.”

I kinda zoned out the beginning, but then he started with the good stuff.

“The mid-size private jet, Amazon shares, New York apartment residence and all that is in it, and a 5 million dollar allowance goes to Mr. Charles and Mrs. Anne Goodwinson,” continued the attorney, his voice becoming a little hoarse from all of the talking. Uncle Charles and Aunt Anne looked satisfied with their lot.

“The large size private jet, the L.A. mansion and all that is in it, and a 5 million dollar allowance goes to Mr. Henry and Mrs. Mary Goodwinson.”

I know Mother was hoping for the yacht that was given to Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth, but getting the L.A. house, the house that Grandmother and Grandfather lived in, was enough to make her satisfied. The mansion had countless paintings that could sell for millions, plus the location was ideal and would sell for double what Grandfather had originally bought it for. 

“Now for the client’s grandchildren,” said Mr. get-to-the-point finally getting to the point “to Mr. William Speakman the London flat and a 2.5 million allowance is given.”

I just sat there in shock. What?! Are you kidding me? Crackhead Willy got the London flat and not me! This is absurd. Despite my outrage, I kept a smile on my face and my shoulders back.

“And finally to our last recipient, Mrs. Whitney Goodwinson…”

I leaned forward a bit just waiting for what the old man was gonna say. Since I wasn’t getting the London flat, maybe Grandmother had a secret cottage in the French countryside or another apartment in Italy. Anything would have been better than what Mr. bad news Bob said next.

“The Outer Banks, North Carolinian residence and a 3.5 million allowance will be given. This closes the end of the reading of the will and testament. Any questions can be asked now.”

Oh boy did I have questions. First off what the hell was Grandmother thinking. Outer Banks!? A dingy island that I had never been too?! I had never heard Grandmother speak of it and had to find out from Father that it was the island where Grandmother first met Grandfather. That meant it was also the place where she died, which did not seem right.

“Whitney she didn’t die in the house, she died in a hospital on the mainland,” said Mother while lighting a cigarette, a “once in a while” habit of hers. We were on the balcony of my parents’ new mansion looking over the Los Angeles skyline. Mother and Father wasted no time kicking everyone out and moving into their new home. In the distance, I could see the sun setting into the Pacific Ocean. It hurt me that in a few hours I would be leaving this perfect place and would be looking at a completely different ocean on the other side of the country in a town where I didn’t know anybody and was unfamiliar with. “And don’t complain it was your grandmother's dying wish to give you her old shack in North Carolina, the least you could do is visit it before you sell it.”

“Fine,” I said rolling my eyes, “I just hope someone is willing to buy.”

“Don’t worry honey we already have a list of possible buyers and I have a personal friend who’s a realtor there who said that she’d help you out. I told her you would be arriving tomorrow and she’s gonna come by the house.” Ah yes, my mother ladies and gents all ready setting up people for me to meet. I swear she knows people in every state, but at least I’ll have help selling the shack.

“You’re sure I can’t take the private jet?” I pleaded with my best “please take pity on me because I got screwed out of a London flat” face.

“Honey you know that your father and I need to go to Sweden to pick out new furniture for the house. Flying first class will be fine and I’m sorry you have to take a red-eye, but it was so last minute You know what’s funny? Your father and I already had a plane ticket to London for you,” she laughed, “we were so sure the flat was yours!” I did not in fact think it was funny.

“Yeah me too,” I said miserably.

“It’ll be fine honey, who knows,” she said snuffing out her cigarette,” you might even like it there.”

I highly doubt that.

 a/n: First chapter is finally up! Thank you for reading and not dropping out after the first sentence! Second chapter should be up shortly, for the time being I’m going to be posting two chapters at a time every other day. I figure this will motivate me even more to write! I am so excited for you guys to see where the story goes and all of its twists and turns! Stay tuned for the next chapter! 

[puckinghell]

#5 with Seguin would be interesting! :)

Interesting enough for me to write a novel, apparently

--

One phone call, was all it took. 

Tyler liked his life. It was a life designed to just cruise along, and that’s exactly what he was best at. He went to the rink, played his heart out, hit up every party in town, came home to his dogs, and did it all over again the next day. 

It would be a lie, to say he never thought of you. It’s hard to not think about someone he shared so much with. 

He thought about you when he grilled steak, because you always teased him for how bad he was at getting it medium-rare. 

“This is as rare as it was when it was still in the cow, Ty, did I not say medium?” you’d say, and he’d roll his eyes and throw it back on the grill. 

He thought about you when he saw Marshall play with the blue ball. You never got to meet Cash and Gerry - he’d already moved at that point - but you went with him to pick up Marshall, and you’d brought that blue ball with you. 

He thought about you during many other things, too. Things that he once did with you, or that you taught him about. Like how to do laundry. That hoodie you loved to steal. The color yellow. 

But thinking about you didn’t bother him, it never did. If anything, it made him smile, because he remembers how happy he was back then. Sure, everything else in Boston was a complete shit show, but you made it bearable, and he’d sworn to never let you go. 

But when he got traded, he was mad. Mad at not only the Bruins but the city of Boston and everything that was linked to it. And unfortunately for you, you were linked to it. So he cut you out.

He’s regretted that decision every day of his life, but he never knew how to fix it.

Until that one phone call. One phone call, all it took.

“Mr Seguin? This is Ria, from Massachusetts General Hospital. I’m calling about Y/N Y/L/N?” 

“Y/N?” he repeats dumbly, because he hasn’t spoken that name in a few years. 

“Yes, sir, you’re her emergency contact.” 

His skin crawls, at those words. Not because he doesn’t want to be called about you but because that sounds like there’s been an emergency. An emergency that apparently prohibits you from telling them he’s not your emergency contact anymore.

He wonders why you never changed it. Did you forget? Or did you know, somehow, that he’d come, if they called? That he’d move heaven and earth to be what you needed? To make up for all the times he didn’t, and because after all that time, he still cares.

He still loves you. 

After all, it wouldn’t hurt so much if he didn’t love you.

“Sir,” Ria from Massachusetts General Hospital says, and Tyler manages to focus enough to catch at least half of her story.

He catches car accident and concussion and collapsed lung, and then he hears chemically induced coma and nearly passes out. 

“I’ll be there,” he says, and it’s like it’s not even his voice, speaking; he can hear the words echo in his head as he hangs up the phone, as he buys the first plane ticket he can find, as he texts Jamie to bring the dogs to a kennel. 

I’ll be there.

And he is. 

It takes him a few hours, two cab rides and a plane, and by the time he gets there he’s chewed his nails to the skin and called his mom in order to not have a full on panic attack at the airport, but then he’s walking through the doors of the hospital and someone is giving him a room number. 

“Boyfriend?” the lady behind the counter asks with an empathetic nod, and he’s too messed up to contradict her, so he just gives her a sharp nod and walks, no, runs to the room she told him.

It catches him off guard, to see you. It’s both the way you look so familiar and all the things that changed. 

You cut your hair. Your face hasn’t changed. There’s too many wires hooked up to you. Your nails are still painted yellow. Your jaw is bruised. There’s a cut on your cheekbone. You’re still wearing the bracelet he gave you for your birthday all those years ago.

It’s the last one that hits him hardest and suddenly he’s sitting on the floor next to your bed, trying his hardest to remember how to breath, and his vision is blurry and his hand catches yours but he’s too afraid to really take it, because there’s a needle in your skin and God, you could’ve died, and the last thing you would’ve remembered about him is how you texted him “how was the flight” and he never answered. 

“I’m sorry,” he brings out between shaky breaths. “I’m so sorry.” 

He leans his head down on the bed, right next to your hand, tries to get more oxygen into his lungs. 

“I should’ve never left you like I did. That’s the one thing I regret. Nothing else, not the parties, not the leaked pictures, not the way things ended with the Bruins. You. I loved you and I thought I had to let you go in order to move on but fuck, Y/N, it’s been years, and I still think about you every single day.”

Tears are burning behind his eyes but he refuses to let them fall; he’s not allowed to cry, not allowed to relieve the burden of that hurt. He has to carry it, the way he forced you to.

“I still love you every single day,” he whispers against the bed sheets, and then he closes his eyes and tries to match his breathing with yours. 

He stays there, next to your bed, for a week, and then his mom flies over because apparently Jamie called her and told her Tyler was having an ongoing mental breakdown. 

It’s fine. He deserves that breakdown, that pain. His mom doesn’t deserve the worry, though, so he tries to keep it together, but he still won’t leave the hospital. 

He allows his mom to bring him coffee and food, though. He doesn’t remember the last time he ate. 

Your family arrives too. They’re not even surprised to see Tyler there and that makes him wanna crawl into a corner and hide in shame, because they’re so nice to him, and didn’t you tell them that he left?

The doctor tells him they’ve stopped the meds that keep you under, and you could wake up any minute now. Every minute that you don’t, a little part of Tyler dies. 

“We’re going to the cafeteria, Ty, you want anything?” his mom asks. She’s given up on trying to get him to come with them. He won’t leave you. 

Not this time. 

“No thanks.” It comes out as more of a slurring mumble, nothanksss, as Tyler rests his head on the bed. He’s tired, so tired, but he doesn’t think he could sleep even if he tried.

When the room is empty, he closes his eyes, though. He thinks of that summer you took him to your family’s house on the Cape, and how often he’d considered kissing you, there. But he never did because he knew he’d fuck it up.

Turns out he did that anyway.

“Ty.” 

It’s just one word, one syllable even, and it’s so soft that for a second, Tyler thinks it’s just the wind and the fact that he hasn’t slept in 4 days. But then he becomes aware of another sensation; fingers carding through his hair, scratching his scalp.

“Ty.”

Louder, now, the word. The voice too familiar.

His head snaps up so fast your hand falls away from his head, drops onto the bed right in front of him. 

You’re smiling at him. Smiling.

“Y/N,” he whispers; his voice is hoarse, sounds unfamiliar. Is he awake? Is he speaking? Is this a dream?

“You’re here.” Your voice is even more hoarse, barely audible. You’re looking around the room, a frown on your face. There’s so much you don’t remember, so much you don’t know, but somehow, you’re able to keep the panic that coils in your stomach stuffed down there. 

Because you know one thing. 

You heard him, you were there, even though you weren’t there, and you need to tell him, need him to understand that you don’t blame him, that you don’t hate him, that, above all, you understand.

“Don’t be sorry,” you manage to whisper, and it takes all your strength but you manage to hook your pinky through his. Instantly, he turns his hand, lacing all his fingers through yours, the pad of his palm rough against yours. 

You try to smile. Understand that you’re probably failing, as you watch Tyler’s eyes get misty. 

It hurts, to speak. But it hurts more, knowing that Tyler is beating himself up. Knowing that Tyler doesn’t understand. 

“Tyler,” you say, your voice more steady than it has been, “I still love you every single day too.”

[wulfies-kpop-fanfics]

One Photo → Mark Lee [8]

↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳  Warning: angst if you squint, I guess

↳  Word count: 2,294

↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | You Are Here! | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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

WEDNESDAY - 8 TWO YEARS LATER

The heart of Toronto would never compare to the magnificence of Times Square in New York, but the mass amount of billboards by the Eaton Center always managed to send you into awe during your nightly trek home from work. 

You looked up toward the billboards with a sigh as you waited for your streetcar, barely managing to squeeze out a smile as you saw Mark’s visage splayed along one of the electronic spaces. The night sky was too polluted with the city’s light to display any real stars, but Mark’s face was more than enough for you. For the past week, you had seen NCT127’s faces sprawled across that billboard, part of promotions for their latest global comeback. It was a brief respite as you waited for your streetcar home every night, to finally know that the day was over and that you could relax.

It had been such a long time since you’ve seen Mark in person. Even though you texted him every day when the two of you were awake at the same time and video chatted whenever he had five minutes to himself, it always felt depressing to be without him. To not kiss or touch or hug at all was torture.

Everyone knew that it was deadly for soulmates to be apart for so long, that depression would set in and even worse physical illnesses were a real risk. It was hard to be so far away and over the past year you had been let go from multiple jobs because you were constantly sick, and therein lies the problem. You simply couldn’t afford the solution to your problem. So, depression and illness it was. It took everything you had to keep your head above water, to keep your dream alive and know that one day your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it does at the present moment.

After a 20 minute ride on the streetcar, you entered your building and took the stairs up to your little hole-in-the-wall apartment, the bare minimum that you could afford after Rhiannon paid her last half of the old place’s rent. A single bed, bath and a tiny kitchen that housed a little chair and round table. Thankfully, there was enough counter space that you could place a tiny TV to watch Netflix on while you ate. You were lucky that the house had a large living room, which doubled as your studio.

The coffee table was one of the only things left from your old apartment, along with the tote of Marvel films you kept hidden below it. Atop the table now rested all of your cameras, a drawing tablet and cards that you got in the mail from Mark from time-to-time, instead of notes, binders and textbooks. Sitting against the wall across from the table was a small bookshelf and an easel with a large frame sitting on it, housing the last portrait you finished the night before, ready to be shipped to the buyer.

After… somewhat enjoying a quick pot of white cheddar mac & cheese and watching a rerun of Supernatural on your little TV, you head into your room and sit at the desk next to your bed. After starting your computer, you opened up discord and sat back in your wheely chair, waiting for Rhiannon’s status to change to green. Wednesday was the day that she had to be up early for her job, so that meant time for a 10-minute call before you went to bed and she went to work. 

Next to your computer was a copy of the photo you took two years ago, of your soulmate and all his friends beneath the shedding cherry trees in High Park. You smiled at it, the memory was fond but now faint in your mind. You reached forward to pick it up, but you stopped yourself. You knew that if you inspected the photo more, you’d only miss Mark and all your friends more. 

There were times where your apartment became so quiet that it reminded you how alone you really were. You had lived with Rhiannon most of your life, and that meant there was at least some noise going on at all times. Whether she had her headset unplugged when she was listening to music or watching youtube videos, she was clattering about when helping you wash and dry the dishes, or if she was walking around and tripped on nothing. She was always talking, laughing, or doing something that always let you know that she was there. Now, you had nothing.  

The silence is broken and you’re startled by the calling sound from discord, Rhiannon’s icon popping up on the top of your screen. You place your hand on your mouse and click the join call button, adjusting the webcam perched on the top of your desktop monitor. 

"Hey," Rhiannon was the first to speak, yawning and reaching back to pull her hair into a perfect, tight ponytail. 

"Hey," you respond, watching her closely and leaning your chin on your right palm. "How are you holding up?"

"I should be asking you that, Jesus, you look like the Hulk if he got the swine flu," she retorts, and even through the grainy quality you can tell she has sympathy written all over her face. "I'm doing great, we've got two cleanings today and a wisdom teeth removal, so that'll be fun." 

You scoff and attempt to smile, "I'm fiiiiine, other than the fact that I'm here and you're there, 13 hours in the future and at least one ocean in between us and an entire continent and a half. I'd say that constitutes abandonment."

"I got the getting while it was good and you know that," she stuck her tongue out at you. "You need to keep saving so that you can fly your ass out here." She squinted at the screen. "You really need to drink like… an entire bottle of nyquil, dude."

"If only it were that easy," you groan. "I don't even have a photographer's position yet. All I get is sitting at a desk and responding to emails… even with my head start, I can't find a good job and I barely make enough to keep living in Toronto." You stick out your tongue back at her for the nyquil comment. "As if I haven't been hiding a bottle of dayquil in my desk for the past week."

Rhiannon stopped what she was doing and leaned toward her camera. "You know why you can't get the jobs you want," her voice is soft, empathetic. "Mark is having trouble, too. He's been doing a lot of half days, so I don't know how they plan to do their tour with him being constantly sick." 

You looked away. "I can't afford to take any more time off… I don't want to lose this job. If I do, I'm not sure that I'll be able to make my rent."

"You're going to need to take time eventually,” Rhiannon stated firmly. "If you don't get at least some of your strength back you're going to end up in the hospital like I did. Remember?" 

You glanced back at your screen, watching Donghyuck wander around in the backdrop. You were beyond jealous that they got to live together. 

"Maybe. I just miss you. More than I miss having a clear passageway in my nose." 

Rhiannon smiled sadly at you. "I miss you too, everyone does. You'll be here soon, I promise. I gotta go, sleep well and drink plenty of water, okay?"

"Okay." 

Rhiannon waved at you before her screen went dark, ending the call. The call was shorter than usual, so you presumed that she had woken up late. You zoned out a little, acutely aware that the apartment had gone silent again. You didn't want to cry, to give up after surviving for so long. You had made it this far without letting everything get to you.

You knew that your deteriorating health was because of your separation from Mark and companies saw that as a liability, even though laws had come into place last year to protect separated soulmates from workplace discrimination. You felt a tiny ping of hope when Rhiannon said you would be able to move soon, but you knew she was lying to make you feel better. 

Feeling lethargic, you stand and make your way to the dresser in the corner of your room, stripping and throwing your clothes about the room. You open up a drawer and pull out a pair of sweatpants and the softest t-shirt you could find and slipped them on, wandering to your bed and slowly climbing in. You slipped off your glasses, placing them on your desk and reached forward to turn off your lamp.

You hugged your polar bear and tried to get comfortable, hoping to fall asleep quickly. You supposed you could call into work when you woke up; at least your manager was nice enough to understand when you needed a day off. You rolled over, tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn't come. Not while your phone was constantly buzzing. 

"What the hell," you mumble to yourself, untangling yourself from the knot of blankets you had tied yourself in to reach for your phone. Your lock screen lit up with a photo of Mark, one you had taken two years ago of him standing in Union Station. 

[Rhiannon (5)] 

She sure knew how to type quickly. 

Rhiannon: I'm on my way to work, I'll let you know when I'm there

Rhiannon: sorry our call was so short, I was running a little late

Rhiannon: I talked to Mark last night, did he say anything? 

Rhiannon: are you asleep already? It's been like 5 minutes 

Rhiannon: ok you're basically just ignoring me at this point

You: calm down bro I was getting in my pyjamas 

Rhiannon: I forgot how slow you get when you're sick, I could die of boredom waiting for you to respond 

You: hardy har 

Rhiannon: so have you talked to mark today? 

You: around lunchtime he woke up from a nightmare but I assume hes busy right now 

Rhiannon: Things have been pretty bad around now, I think you might have guessed that

You: Yeah, things aren’t really that great here either, but I’m more worried about Mark… have they given him time off? 

Rhiannon: Not much besides half days. He’s really been missing you. Maybe you should message him and see if he’s not busy

You: Yeah, maybe. I feel really guilty

Rhiannon: I know. I still could help you buy your plane ticket, you know. You: You know I can’t do that, I can’t take more from you than I have already. I owe you too much.

No response. 

You: Rhiannon I’m sorry 

You: Come on, you can’t have scrubbed in that fast!

You sighed, staring at your screen and still seeing no response from your best friend. You took a deep breath in and immediately regretted it when you began coughing up a lung, but at least you weren't upchucking your dinner. Instead, you decided to send a text to Mark.

You: mark, you there? 

You close your mind for a moment, thinking that maybe going to bed even later than usual would just make you more sick in the end, but you really needed to know what was going on. 

Mark: yeah I'm here babe, what's wrong, can't sleep? 

You: no not really… do you have time to talk for a bit? 

Mark: yeah, my legs gave out during our first practice so I'm taking a break

You: I'm sorry

Mark: it's not your fault (Y/N) 

You: it kind of is, we're both dying because I can't afford to move 

Mark: (Y/N), we're not dying, and it's okay, you'll be able to move soon

You: face it you know that we are… I haven't felt this horrible in a long time and I've thrown up three times today 

Mark didn't respond right away. 

Mark: why are you putting yourself down so much 

You: I just… have a lot of regrets right now 

Mark: what do you mean

You licked your lips and rolled over in bed, wondering if you should tell him.

Mark: are you okay? 

You: no, I feel like this would make you hate me 

Mark: I could never hate you and you know that. Tell me what's been bothering you.

You: For the past while… Rhiannon’s been offering me money. It’s honestly not much because everyone’s struggling nowadays, but it would be enough for me to fly to Korea, and I’ve felt so guilty about it that I kept saying no and she stopped offering

Mark: You mean that you could have been here faster? You: and now I feel that saying no was a really bad idea… and I.. I can’t afford anything, barely even food and now I hear that you’re even more sick than I am and I feel terrible

You: I don’t know what to do

Mark: It’s okay, (Y/N), really. I know how hard it is to take money from someone else, I’m not mad at you

You: Really?

Mark: I’m just disappointed that I have to keep waiting. You’ll be able to move soon, I promise, I promise, I promise

You: Are you going to be okay

Mark: As long as you are. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be there for you the second you land. Okay?

You: Okay. I… I should probably get some sleep now. Mark: Rest well, I love you

You: I love you too 

You sighed, placing your phone on your desk and turning over in your bed. It was time.