#even when my friend deleted my save and I had to do the water temple twice

[talekk]

Just beat Ocarina of Time like 20 years late but it was still fun. If I had to change anything it would be making Ganon's final phase not take 12 years because of clunky z-targetting constantly locking me on to his head instead of his tail. I tried just swinging without targetting and that worked slightly better but due to the camera angle I was largely guessing where the tail was and the master sword's reach ain't all that far compared to the best item in the game that trivializes all combat.

[d3monslust]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

-

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

[andypantsx3]

if i could keep cool | 4

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters

summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.

tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

There was no other word for it. Todoroki was a menace.

Though his schedule seemed to return to something approximating normal, he was still in the apartment often enough that you began to anticipate him being there. Even when he wasn’t, however, he made life difficult enough for you by leaving behind gifts, with progressively more disappointed notes if you didn’t take them. You didn’t know how it was possible to convey that flat tone in the shape of his letters, but you could practically hear it as you read them over.

Worse, he seemed to know exactly which of your weak points to exploit to get you to want the gifts--leaving you several more books, a bag of the really nice coffee beans from the coffee shop you’d told him about, and a sinfully soft scarf as the weather turned colder. When you continued to ignore the insane amount of money he seemed to think passed for a tip, fresh vegetables started cropping up on the countertops with notes that said things like I’m not going to eat these, if you don’t take them they will be wasted to guilt you into compliance.

A month into it, an entire grocery order started showing up every Thursday shift. My refrigerator is full so don’t try to stuff any of this in there, his note commanded.

He was a master of manipulation, it seemed, and to what end you didn’t know. You made mental notes to not mention any further likes during your conversations, but when he was there, Todoroki’s conversation was so easy and so natural, he continued to pull all the details out of you with ease.

So things you really, really liked kept turning up. And as you talked to him, Todoroki was turning into a thing that you really, really liked as well.

It was overwhelming.

The final straw was a Friday afternoon when you hit up the fancy coffee shop just outside campus. You walked in with the extra money you’d saved up not buying your own groceries, and the vague idea that you would get a head start on an upcoming paper. And then, the barista very obviously glanced between you and a sheet of paper taped to a corner of the register, and refused to let you pay for your order.

“Your order is free!” she chirped cheerfully.

You stared. “What?”

“It’s already taken care of!” she said, and immediately, a cloud of suspicion settled over you.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked.

She smiled. “The occasion is someone already paid for you!”

You glanced around the coffee shop, but you could find nothing but a few unfamiliar students purusing books or churning out work on their respective laptops. You turned back to her.

“And if I were to walk into this coffee shop tomorrow, would the occasion also be that someone already paid for me?”

She nodded. “Yes! All your future orders are paid for, please come as often as you like!”

You gaped at her, and she cheerfully stuffed your coffee into your hands. Then you glared down at the white paper cup accusingly, and it stared back at you, looking like one half of a certain menace’s hair color.

Oh, he was in for it.

You stalked over to a table and whipped out your cell phone, shooting off a message so fast your fingers practically burned.

todoroki what the hell

To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.

It’s Shouto.

Like hell it was.

first names are for friends, not psychopaths. did you really pay for all of my future orders at the coffee shop?

Is this your first time there this month? he answered. Where do you usually go?

You stared at your phone. He’d done this a month ago? Also, no way you were telling him your budget spot where you picked up lukewarm bean water when you couldn’t afford four dollar americanos. The last thing you needed was for him to buy them out, too.

You got to your feet, marching back over to the barista.

She smiled. “Back for something else?”

“Yeah, how do I cancel the all my orders are paid for thing?” you asked. “Can you just delete whatever info he left you and charge me from now on?”

She looked you up and down. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She stared, then leaned in to whisper. “You do know who paid for all your orders, right? Are you actually sure you want to cancel?”

A migraine started in your temples. Had Todoroki actually come in here himself to give his information? Was he trying to get you caught up in the secret lover bullshit that was still swirling in the media?

“I’m extra sure,” you smiled, then went back to your table, satisfied.

No sooner than you had dug out your laptop, though, when your phone buzzed. You looked down at the name on the screen and paled. Todoroki was way easier to deal with via text when you couldn’t hear that low, smooth tone directly in your ear. His face and his voice were absolutely fucking mind-melting, and it would be hard to maintain your stubborn stance even in the face of just one.

Still, though, this was the last straw.

“How many times do I have to tell you that friendship is free?” you hissed quietly as you picked up.

“They told me you tried to cancel,” he said flatly, and your head whipped up to glare at the barista accusingly. She smiled.

“Todoroki--”

“Shouto,” he said.

“Fine, Shouto,” you said, “It’s been a month and maybe I let you get the wrong idea by accepting all of the vegetables and everything, but this ends here. I told you that it doesn’t cost anything to be friends with me, and you had better stop apologizing. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but--”

“Then do,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Then just appreciate it,” he answered. His voice was somehow even lower on the phone and a shiver went down your spine, despite your frustration with him. “Just accept them. Why is it so bad if a friend gives you things?”

God, he was such a rich boy, wasn’t he?

“Shouto, I do appreciate it,” you said. “But I don’t need any of that. And I know that you know this isn’t necessary--I highly doubt that you are buying Midoriya all of his weekly coffees or draping Bakugou in soft scarves. All you need to be friends with me is to just hang out, the same way you do them.”

Shouto was quiet a moment. “Hang out,” he finally said, slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Then, “Are you free right now?”

“W-what?” you managed.

“You don’t have class right now, right? Your last lecture just let out.”

You were surprised that he remembered your class schedule. Just how much had you told him?

“Uh, yeah?” you asked.

“Good, stay where you are. We’re hanging out,” he pronounced the words like they were foreign on his tongue, then hung up.

You stared down at your phone in shock. He wanted to hang out with you? Like, outside of his apartment?

There was no arguing the two of you got along relatively well, now that the threat of your crazy fandom and the weight of his mistake no longer hung over your relationship. You talked easily enough the one or two times you saw him during any given week. But so far your interactions had been somewhat limited, confined to the familiar space of his apartment and limited to the time that you had to be there. You texted a little outside of that, but you’d never just casually hung out.

Then the weight of his words really hit you. He was coming here? To the coffee shop? In full view of your entire campus? Was he insane?

You ran through a mental checklist of things in your bag that could be used to disguise him but came up short. You didn’t know exactly what he planned to look like when he put in an appearance here, but you were not interested in fanning the flames of the secret lover garbage that was still all over twitter and splashed across the glossy pages of the magazines at the grocery store.

You shot to your feet and threw your bag over your shoulder, then ran out the door, dashing for the campus shop that sat just outside the student center. You blew through the door and dove straight for the apparel section, grabbing the least heinous hat that looked like it would cover most of Shouto’s distinctive hairstyle while also drawing the least amount of attention to its wearer. You also helped yourself to a plain pair of sunglasses that would probably be kind of inappropriate in the fall weather, but would go a long way in hiding his eyes and that scar.

Why did he insist on having so many distinguishing features? Would it kill him to have dark hair and dark eyes like most of the rest of the earth’s population?

You threw the items and a wad of bills down on the register counter, then paused. A few small, slightly-wilted looking bouquets of flowers sprouted from buckets just beside the register in the colors of your university. You didn’t know what the colors or type of the flowers were supposed to mean, and they probably didn’t give off exactly the message you wanted to send, but Shouto had gotten you flowers as the first gift he’d ever given you…

You grabbed the least wilted looking bunch and threw them on top of the other items.

The cashier rang you up with all the urgency of a sloth, and you tapped your foot nervously as you waited. How was Shouto getting here? How long would it take him? Would he be at the coffee shop already?

You stuffed the flowers into your bag, then launched yourself out of the campus shop like a rocket, catching that mop of red and white hair just outside the entrance to the coffee shop. You put on a burst of speed and managed to jam the baseball cap down over his head before he pulled open the door. He turned to you in surprise.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Yes, hi, hello,” you managed while also trying to ram the sunglasses onto his face.

He let out a small huff of amusement. “What are you doing?”

“What you should have done before coming here, you absolute wackjob,” you said, finally managing to slip the shades over his high-bridged nose without poking his eyes out.

Shouto let you manhandle him to your liking, until his face and hair were mostly hidden under your university merchandise.

“Okay, you should be good now,” you said, looking him over. He still stood out, honestly, too tall and outrageously handsome, even covered up as he was. The sweater and well-fitting jeans he’d chosen would still draw anyone’s gaze straight to his trim figure, but it would have to do.

“We can’t go inside, though, you’ll look too shady with the cap and glasses,” you said. “We need to go somewhere outdoors.”

He stared down at you, one eyebrow lifted over the top of his sunglasses. “It’s fall.”

You thought for a moment.

“How do you feel about izakaya?” you asked. “There’s a street-side one not far from here that’s mostly outdoors. They’re good, and I think they’re still open.”

He nodded. “Do you go there often?”

You eyed him. “Oh no. If I tell you places I go, you apparently buy them out. The whole point of you being here is to prove that buying me things is stupid when we can just hang out.”

The corner of his mouth twitched like he was being told a joke you couldn’t hear. “Lead the way, then,” he said evenly.

You pulled him down a few blocks, expertly navigating your way through the winding city streets. You would never admit as much to him, but this place was one of your faves for good beer and cheap yakitori, and you could probably easily find your way both blindfolded and drunk. Shouto followed you easily, a tall, silent warmth at your back.

There were few people at the izakaya when you arrived, considering it was still a little early for dinner, and no one gave the two of you a second glance when you pulled back the curtains and helped yourselves to pair of stools in the corner of the stall.

“Okay, you have to get a beer and yakitori first," you said. "You can do whatever you want after, but the first round has to be that. Just trust me.”

“No vegetables?” Shouto asked.

You laughed. “I know that’s my brand. And there are good veggie side dishes. But there is nothing like fresh, warm, cheap yakitori and a really good beer, especially on a cool fall day like this. I know what I’m talking about.”

A soft smile pulled at his mouth. “So you do come here often.”

You stared up at him accusingly. “If you dare throw a single dollar at them, you’re in huge trouble. I know where you live.”

He smiled down at you. It was easier to notice how boyish his grin was when the rest of his face was hidden by his sunglasses, and heat flared in your cheeks. He was just so damn good looking.

It suddenly dawned on you how forward you’d been with him, sending him sassy texts and putting your hands all over him when you were attempting to stuff him into your university swag. Your relationship had progressed somewhat since that first book he’d bribed you with, but honestly, this was completely new ground for you.

Your face burned hotter. You’d been so, so inexcusably forward. Had you lost your mind?

Shouto seemed to be thinking about the hat as well. “So, do I look like a student at your university?”

You looked him up and down. Aside from your school’s name emblazoned across his baseball cap, he looked nothing like a student, too put together in his dark sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent. You wondered if he’d even been within ten feet of an instant ramen cup in his entire life.

“Uh, no,” you said. “You look like someone forced you to wear a hat they panic purchased and it just so happened to be the least horrible one available.”

A smile played about his mouth again. “What were the other options?”

You grinned. “It was this one or a proud dad of a college grad cap.”

He let out a small huff of amusement. You smiled, then leaned forward as the man at the counter came over to take your order, making sure to cut Shouto off before he could attempt any rich boy tricks. You put in an order for two beers and what was probably a concerning amount of yakitori, then turned back to Shouto and almost fell off your stool when he was much closer than you’d expected.

“Do you have a teleportation quirk I don’t know about?” you asked, internally panicking at his proximity. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of him and catch the scent of his cologne, light and fresh and disturbingly good.

He smiled that boyish smile again and your heart suddenly forgot how to do its job, freezing in your chest. “It’s cold.”

You rolled your eyes. “You have a fire quirk.”

You felt the air grow a little warmer around the two of you. “I meant for you,” he said.

You were torn between relaxing into the sudden warmth and freezing up in embarrassment. It was beginning to dawn on you just how attentive and thoughtful he always was, and you wondered vaguely if the gift giving was actually just a really extreme manifestation of that personality trait. Maybe being an awkward rich boy with a weird way of making friends was just part of the issue.

Your heartbeat suddenly kicked into overdrive. He was already so overwhelming to look at, incredibly brave, such a good listener, and way too easy to talk to. You did not need to pile on other endearing qualities to the frankly alarming number of things feeding into what was quickly becoming the fattest crush of your lifetime. Did he have to be so good all the time?

A hand suddenly reached out, pulling you closer so that you were practically fused to his left side. You stiffened, resisting the urge to curl into the warmth pouring off of him in thick waves.

Not good, this was so not good.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, tongue thick, like you were speaking through a mouthful of applesauce. “I’m wearing the scarf you got me.”

Shouto tilted his head, and though you couldn’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, something like satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said in his deep tone, “but this will help too.”

“Really, you’re my friend not my personal space heater,” you insisted, trying to squirm away from him. “You don’t need to do this.”

He flared hotter, and a strong arm went around the back of your chair, halting your escape. “I don’t mind,” he said.

God it was like he didn’t even know what effect he had on people. People, of course, being cleaning ladies with twitters full of zoomed in pictures of his abs. It was not good for your health to be this close to him, couldn’t he just let you sit ten thousand miles away from him where both of you would be a little safer?

The izakaya owner interrupted this train of thought, pushing two beers and a plateful of yakitori between the two of you.

You instantly seized on the distraction, bringing a beer to your mouth to give you a couple moments for your brain to turn on again. It was refreshingly cold, and the flavor was nostalgic, tasting like breaks after class with friends and late nights stumbling back after several rounds of karaoke and drinking. You wondered now if, in the future, you would taste it and think back to the one time you’d hung out with Shouto Todoroki.

“It’s good,” Shouto said, looking at you over the rim of his own beer.

You smiled. “I told you.”

Then you shoved a stick of yakitori at him. “Now eat this and tell me I was right about it too.”

His fingers slid along yours as he took the stick from you, calloused and warm. “...You were right about this too,” he said after managing a bite.

You felt yourself puff up. “Of course I was.”

He smiled and helped himself to the rest. With the food and drink absorbing some of your attention, you were able to calm down somewhat, and the conversation returned to normal, you doing your best to forget about the sinfully warm arm curled around your back.

Here, too, Shouto was absurdly easy to talk to, the new venue doing nothing to dull his charm or the easy way that he pulled information out of you with a few, short, well-placed questions. Over the course of a few hours, you worked your way through a few beers and several more side dishes, the conversation never letting up. Shouto was just as intelligent and thoughtful as ever, and he made you laugh with a couple of unexpectedly short tempered comments. Even the discovery that he was not as princely as he usually seemed just fanned the flames of your crush.

It was only when the people around you began to shuffle off of their stools and pack up that you realized how late it had grown, and that you’d spent the entire evening hanging out and talking.

Shouto helped you off your stool when you stumbled a little, the number of beers you’d consumed suddenly making themselves known. “You’re more of a lightweight than I would have guessed by the conversation,” he teased.

You looked up into his face, realizing that he’d shed the sunglasses at some point during your conversation and you hadn’t noticed. Had anyone else noticed? No one had come over asking for an autograph. Maybe he was so unexpected at a place like this that the hat had been enough of a disguise.

You blinked, realized you’d been staring. “Nonsense, I’m a pro. I’ve put in many more beers at this place.”

Then your eyes narrowed at the slow movement his hand was making along the counter, what looked suspiciously like a stack of bills underneath. That little shit.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you demanded, grabbing his hand and stuffing the money back into it. “This is on me. I haven’t paid for groceries in weeks, thanks to somebody.”

Shouto smirked, looking strangely pleased with himself. His hand curled around yours, and his other came up to take your free hand. It was only when he’d transferred both of your wrists into one large palm that you realized what he was doing, plopping down a handful of bills on the counter quickly with his free hand, then pulling your backpack over your shoulder and tugging you away from the izakaya before you could make a scene. You’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, steering you back out into the street. “Give me your address.”

“Shouto,” you whined, “this whole evening was supposed to be about proving you don’t need to spend money to be my friend. We were supposed to hang out.”

“We did hang out,” he pointed out, looking down at you from under the rim of that ridiculous baseball cap. “Your point was very much made.”

It was a testament to how tipsy you were, probably, that this warmed you. You forgot your annoyance with him almost immediately. “Really?”

He huffed a laugh. “Really. Now give me your address so I can take you home.”

You did and he plugged it into his phone. Then he led you along with one hand curled around yours. You spent the whole walk musing on how warm his fingers were in yours, how much larger his hands seemed than yours. Why was even his stupid hand so nice?

It was only as Shouto walked you to the door of your apartment that you remembered the last thing you’d gotten for him in the campus store. You quickly unzipped your backpack, shoving the bouquet of flowers at him.

“For you,” you said, pressing them into his chest. “You got me those flowers. These ones aren’t as nice, but I thought that you should have some too.”

He stared down at you, something strange glinting in his eyes. “You got me flowers.”

“Do you not like them?” you asked nervously. Was it weird to give a guy flowers? It was probably weird…

“I like them,” he declared, and a genuine smile flickered across his mouth. His eyes looked a little brighter, and his gaze was growing more intent by the second. “Now, you should probably get inside before I forget my manners.”

Forget his manners? You stared up at him in confusion.

He looked down at you for a long moment, and then he was suddenly very close, his face dipping down to yours.

“Get inside,” he said quietly, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. “Please.”

You nodded, swallowing. You had just enough presence of mind to turn and unlock your door. Shouto guided you gently inside with a hand on your back, and then stepped back outside, smiling.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he said.

You waved. “See you on Tuesday.”

You watched him make his way back down the street, only closing your door when you saw him turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Then you sank down against the door frame, heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.

Shouto was the most overwhelming man on this earth. You were in such big trouble.

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Four

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: Smut (18+)

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

Katie

 “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Bri advised, her mouth stuffed full of salad. 

I was beginning to regret confessing to her about my mixed feelings for Rory and his new engagement. Bri was a great friend but at times she took over a conversation and made it relatable to something she had experienced which was exactly what she had done. She had gone on and on about her break up with Liam for so long that I considered telling Billy not to bother asking her out because I was so unclear as to whether she was ready to move on or not.

“Have you been getting under anyone recently?” I enquired, hoping with everything in me that she would say no. I really wanted her and Billy to work out and make each other happy.

“Sadly no. My prince charming is out there somewhere.” she sighed.

“Closer than you might think.” I grinned.

“What?” she laughed, confused.

I shook my head and said nothing else before making an excuse to leave lunch. 

I had arranged with Billy to go and help him with the set up of his plan by cutting my lunch short. By the time we had finished, Bri would be coming back to the kit room and I could distract her along the way. 

By the time I got to the unused office that Billy had chosen, he had already finished. The room was full of bouquets of red roses. I had to pinch my nose between my fingers to prevent me from sneezing. 

“That’s a shit ton of flowers Billy.” I laughed, patting him on the back “good job.”

“You think she will like this kind of stuff?” he asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. 

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “She is a true romantic at heart, she’ll appreciate the effort.”

“I thought I saw you come in here-”

I turned to see Ben, standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest but a big grin on his face. 

“We’re setting up Billy asking Bri out.” I explained. 

“Mate you are making the rest of us look bad. I was going to ask Katie to come out with us lot later, now I feel like just asking that isn’t enough.” Ben looked between the two of us as he spoke.

It took me a couple of minutes to register what he was saying. He was going to ask me out. He had said ‘with us’ though which implied that it wasn’t going to be just the two of us, but maybe that was a good thing seeing as I felt awkward enough around Ben at the moment. 

Billy started laughing beside me then said to Ben “I think the silence is your answer pal.”

Ben looked down at his shoes then back up at me.

“Hold your horses Billy. Ben hasn’t actually asked me anything-” I started to ask Ben what he meant but was cut off by the sound of Bri in the corridor just outside the door calling my name.

“Shit a brick it’s time.” I gave Billy one last reassuring squeeze on the arm before grabbing Ben and dragging him through the door by the hand.

“Hi Bri.” I greeted her.

She was startled and looked between me and Ben, our hands intertwined and the door to the office which she knew as well as I did that no one used anymore. She then smirked.

“Oh I see. You did have a lot of work to catch up on.” 

I tried not to blush, conscious that my hand was still holding onto Ben’s but I didn’t really care what she thought we had been doing in there. All I cared about was that Billy got a fair chance. 

So without setting her straight, I said “There’s something you need to see in there.”

Bri’s curiosity got the better of her after a minute of her giving me a very confused look. Once she had entered the office I quietly shut the door behind her and turned to Ben.

“What were you trying to ask me?”

He squeezed my hand with his as a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. “I don’t know if you want to but a lot of the lads are going out tonight and I just wondered if you wanted to join us. Most of them are bringing their girlfriends so you wouldn’t be the only girl there or anything. I thought it might be nice to spend time with each other with no pressure.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I agreed. 

With his free hand he pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it to me, asking “Can I have your number so that we can arrange for me to pick you up?” 

I nearly dropped the phone trying to unlock it with just one hand. It felt weird that a boy would hand a girl his phone and not at least have a passcode on it, but maybe he just had nothing to hide. I entered my number to his contacts, saving myself as just my first name. He grinned again as I passed the phone back to him. 

“What are you smiling at?”

“You didn’t drop my hand to put your number in.” he said, squeezing the hand he held again gently before continuing “but I’ve got to get back to training in a minute.”

“You’re not waiting for Billy?”

He shook his head, explaining “I’m his alibi for being late, I’m going to have to tell the gaffer something, not sure what yet.”

“You’re a good friend Ben” I smiled, finally letting go of his hand.

“You are too Katie. Billy thinks a lot of you and you’ve really helped him.”

“He has helped me a lot too, more than he will ever realise.” I said softly, thinking about Billy deleting all of Rory’s social media profiles from my accounts. 

“See you later.”

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

I had been sat at my desk for 45 minutes, unable to concentrate on anything because I was desperate for Bri to come and talk to me. The radio silence was starting to concern me until my phone lit up where it sat upon my desk next to my computer monitor, only the text wasn’t from Bri.

Ben: Is 8 ok to pick you up? If you want to we could get some dinner together before we meet the others? Xx

 I stared at the message for a minute, contemplating a reply. In 45 minutes he had had a change of heart and now wanted to spend some time alone together. Did I want that? 

I sat there with my phone in hand for another few minutes mulling it over in my head before I decided that I should see Ben alone, to test whether we really had a spark or not and to be honest with him about what I knew. 

 Katie: 8 is fine and dinner would be lovely xx

 I followed the message up with another, just giving Ben my address and began to fidget nervously in my seat. I hadn’t been on a date with anyone since my break up and had avoided anyone that had been even remotely interested. What do you even say to someone on the first date? 

I was still wondering how I would talk to Ben alone at dinner when my office door swung open.

“Bloody hell you scared the shit out of me.” I explained. 

My shock was worth it though, to see a beaming Bri in my doorway with one of the huge bouquets cradled in her arms. 

“I just got asked out by a footballer!” she grinned. 

“Yeah I know. Billy is amaz-”

“Liam would absolutely die if he knew this.” she squealed. 

Before I could say anything else she had turned on her heels and left as quickly as she came. 

My mind raced. She hadn’t even called Billy by his name. My gut instinct that she would use him was getting stronger and I felt sick. Billy was a really good guy and deserved better than that. 

I put my head in my hands and massaged my temples. This situation just added to my anxiety and made me feel torn. I should really be loyal to Bri as my best friend but also call her out on her behaviour and pray that underneath it all she did actually have some feelings for Billy. 

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

Ben had picked me up at bang on 8pm. I had hoped he would be a couple of minutes late so that I could have a few minutes to try to settle my anxiety but no such luck. 

He took my hand and led me out to his car, complimenting me on how I looked and holding the car door open for me. 

We barely spoke during the short drive to the restaurant but surprisingly it was a comfortable silence. 

When we were seated at the table, he reached across and took my hand, holding it on top of the table for anyone around us to see. 

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry Ben, I know I must seem like I’m not even in the room right now. I just have a lot on my mind.” I babbled, taking a big sip of water to calm myself down before I went ahead and blurted out everything that was bothering me and ruining the only date I’d had in over a year. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked soothingly, his thumb brushing over my fingers. 

I nodded before starting to explain. “I don’t even know where to begin Ben. When Bri walked into my office earlier she looked like she was on top of the world and I thought it was because she liked Billy back but she didn’t even call him by his name, just said that a footballer had asked her out and how her ex would absolutely die if he found out. I’m just so worried that she will use him. Me and Billy have become really good friends and I don’t want to see him get hurt but-”

“You feel like your loyalty is divided?” he asked.

“I really do. I think I need to sit her down and have a serious conversation with her. Maybe if I explain how much thought and effort has gone into this…” I sighed.

“You really care about everyone around you don’t you?”

I just nodded, sighing deeply. 

“There’s something that I need to tell you too, because you have also become someone that i care about.” I gave him full eye contact as I spoke, he looked back at me with curiosity and a little fear. “A few days ago I had to log into the social media account of one of the other players and I noticed that he was getting a lot of messages from a girl. One of them was about you and my curiosity got the better of me.”

He started to smile and it stopped me in my tracks.

“I’m sorry you have been dragged into all of this.Sam and I were together for a while about 2 years ago. It wasn’t very serious from my side of things but she wanted to settle down, get married and have kids and at the time I was only 21. I wasn’t settled in my career and didn’t feel ready for all of that.” he turned my hand over as he spoke and stroked the palm of my hand with his forefinger distractedly.

“So you broke up?” I asked, feeling stupid immediately, because of course they have broken up. 

“She gave me an ultimatum. Either I settled down with her or she would find another famous footballer to leech from. That’s when she started things with Jorginho. He was still married then, but he is getting a divorce to be with her,”

“They think that you don’t know” I sighed, my mind boggling at the way Ben had been treated and how Jorginho treated his wife. 

Ben laughed. “I know, they think they have been good at hiding it but he is my teammate after all and she is itching to make it public so that she can play up to the role of footballer’s wife.”

“I’m so sorry that they have done this to you.” I said genuinely meaning it. I guess I didn’t know Ben well enough to know what he had done in their relationship that might have led to Sam acting the way that she had, but surely nothing could warrant what she had done in revenge. 

“I think he is coming tonight, but I didn’t want that to stop me from hanging out with the lads and getting to know the group better. He isn’t going to ruin my time at Chelsea. For the record, I am well over Sam too. I don’t want someone who only wants me because I’m a footballer.”

I was about to tell him that I wanted him and potentially make a massive fool of myself when the waitress came over to take my order. I pretended to look at the menu as if i hadn’t already looked on their website and chosen what I wanted to eat hours ago. 

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

We were all embarrassingly tipsy.

I had been sat with the girlfriends of some of the other new players for an hour but because the two of them were German and already knew each other I couldn’t do much but nod along with their conversation that they were kindly conducting in English to try to include me but was about how they were settling into London and struggling to find jobs with their German qualifications.

Ben and some of the other new players had been sat talking and laughing together. He seemed to be having a good time so I didn’t want to go over and pull him away. I didn’t want to come across as needy and I did enjoy looking over at him every so often and catching his eye. 

Eventually one of them stood to go to the bar and the group of boys broke up with Ben coming over to the girls’ table and holding his hand out to me. 

“Do you want to go for a dance?” he grinned, already half pulling me out of my seat. 

I used to go to clubs when I was at university but it had been a long time since I graduated and they had never really been Rory’s thing so we hadn’t continued to go out once we graduated. 

Bri had suggested we go clubbing together plenty of times but I had always resisted knowing that one of us would end up too drunk and in a bad situation as a result. 

I let Ben lead me to the dance floor and put his arms around me. We were both a little too tipsy to keep to any sort of rhythm, we just kind of held onto each other and moved. 

Realising how bad we probably looked to everyone else we started to laugh about it. 

“I swear I can do better, I have just over done it on the beers.” he said, having to speak directly into my ear to be heard. His hot breath tickled, and I tried not to react. 

I already had my arms around his neck, but slipped a hand up into his hair to pull his face back to mine so that I could say something back to him. 

I was going to tell him that I thought his attempt at dancing was cute but I didn’t manage it, because as soon as I held onto him and his eyes met mine I knew that I wanted to kiss him. 

I guided his face closer and our lips met, softly at first, but I was soon tasting his beer on his tongue. I got lost in him, forgetting where I was and who was around me. All I wanted was Ben.

After what felt like forever we broke apart for air and Ben put his face in the crook of my neck, I think to hide that he was blushing again. 

“I’m going to go and get another drink, do you want one?” he asked, guiding me off of the dancefloor so that we could hear each other a little better away from the banging music. 

“Um, yes please. Archers and lemonade.” 

“Be right back. I’ll come and find you if you want to go back to the girls.” he said before leaving me to go to the bar.

I had completely forgotten about the two german girls I had been sat with and I was unsure if I could just go straight back to them but I didn’t have many other options without Ben by my side. 

I walked back over to the tables that were occupied by our group but accidentally bumped into the side of someone while trying to squeeze through a gap in the crowd.

“Excuse you.” the girl spat, turning to me.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” I said apologetically, although unsure the girl deserved an apology for being so quick to be nasty about it.

She looked me up and down and said “What a state.” to the man standing beside her.

I was about to get defensive and angry when I realised that it was Mason beside her. Putting two and two together I realised that this was the not quite famous pop star girlfriend. 

“Katie, your lipstick is a bit smudged.” he said, sounding pissed off. 

I rubbed my thumb at the corner of my mouth.

“Well Katie, how good is it of my boyfriend to tell you what the issue is?” she asked rhetorically, emphasizing my name and the word ‘my’.

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t give a shit about her precious boyfriend but now that things were happening between me and Ben I didn’t want to embarrass him by being a bitch to his team mate and I did still have to have a working relationship with Mason. 

“Whatever I’m bored of this. I’m going to dance.” the girl huffed, walking away.

Mason didn’t follow her.

He stared at me, his lips pursed.

“What is your problem?” I asked.

“I told you he was no good for you.” 

“I don’t need relationship advice from you, thanks though.” that was the best that I could do without being rude and I had to remove myself from his presence before I did anything worse. 

Walking a bit quicker I made it back to the girls’ table and apologised to them for leaving them earlier. They were really nice about it and told me not to worry and that they would probably go and dance with their partners in a bit if they ever stopped talking at the other table. 

Relief swept over me when Ben came and joined us with our drinks. He had got a beer for himself, my archers and had bought a pitcher of some sort of bright blue cocktail for the girls to share which they were appreciative of. 

“He is a good one no?” the brunette one said, Sophia I think her name was. 

I laughed and agreed. Ben was one of the good ones, no matter what Mason thought. I trusted my judgement more than I trusted him. 

I looked at Ben as he sat drinking from his beer bottle. Staring at his lips around it just made me want to kiss him again, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. 

I drank my drink quickly which I knew I would probably come to regret later, then slid my chair closer to Ben’s so that I could whisper in his ear “Do you want to get out of here?”

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

We walked hand in hand back to my flat from the club. My flat was a lot closer than Ben’s house in Surrey and there was no way either of us was driving or patient enough to get a taxi all that way. 

I unlocked the door with shaking hands and pulled Ben inside, all the alcohol I had consumed suddenly making me very brave. 

“I want you” I managed to say. I had been about to explain that I wanted him, and not because he was a footballer, but I just couldn’t get the words out.

He doesn’t waste a moment, lifting me off my feet and carrying me through to my bedroom. He sits on the edge of my bed and lowers me onto his lap, my thighs on either side of him. My head was higher than his and I gripped his hair in my fist as I kissed him deeply again.

His hands found my ass and pressed me down against him. I could feel how hard he was, straining through his jeans. He pushed my dress up and pulled it off over my head and before I could react his mouth was on my neck. 

I shuddered at the sudden chill of being undressed, and the feeling of his tongue against my skin. 

He pinches the clasp of my bra and it pings open, my breasts falling out before him. He smiles appreciatively before cupping one in his hand and leaning down to take the nipple of the other into his mouth. 

I gasp at the contact and rock involuntarily in his grasp. My core, covered only by my knickers reacts in pleasure at the friction caused and I continue to move, taking my pleasure from him. 

He releases my nipple from his mouth and cups my face instead, forcing me to look at him. “God, you are so beautiful”.

He lifts me and tears my knickers from my body, discarding what’s left of the lace garment on the floor as I pull his shirt up and off over his head and proceed to kiss and nip gently at his neck. 

“I want you to ride me.” his tone is commanding but gentle, and I feel hot at the thought.

I reach down and unbutton the fly of his jeans, quickly ridding him of them and the boxers below. His cock springs free against my thigh and I hold back a moan at how thick it feels. 

One of his hands found my hip, the other guides his cock to my core and I sink down to meet it. 

Feeling full I take a moment to adjust and grip his shoulder to steady myself. The hand at my hip squeezes gently in encouragement and I start to move, knowing we’re both too desperate to go slow. 

He leans back slightly and watches me, starting to thrust up. His resolve to not flip us over and take me wavering. 

I reach one hand up to one of my breasts and start to massage it. Ben’s eyes dart to my hand and watch my every move as I start to roll my nipple between my fingers. He doesn’t know where to look when I move my other hand to my clit, beginning to rub it in circles. His grip on me tightens as I writhe towards my release. He must know that I’m close and how could he not from the moans he is eliciting from me.

I cry out his name as my body shudders to its release, my core clamping down on his cock. I continue to rock my hips through it and bury my face in his neck. 

He gives me a few seconds to come down from my high before he lifts me from him and pushes me backwards onto the pillows. He leans over me and presses a kiss to my lips before burying himself back inside me. My legs automatically wrap around his waist and draw him closer. I need to feel him as deep as possible. 

I feel his hand slip between our sweat slickened bodies and gasp as his thumb meets my now oversensitive clit.

I dig my nails into the soft flesh of his shoulder and he doesn’t react, his face is buried in my neck where I’m sure he’s marking me as he fucks me with deep powerful thrusts. I tighten my legs around him and hold him as close as possible, chasing another orgasm. 

There’s no rhythm to our movements against each other anymore, just an animalistic need to come.

He tips me over the edge again first, and I muffle any sound that I make against his shoulder but he feels the familiar sensation of my walls clamping down on him and grunts appreciatively in acknowledgement. A few thrusts later I feel him spill into me. 

He presses his mouth back to mine then and we kiss sloppily while he slips from inside me.

[theclockworkmonk]

Title: Intermission

Summary: During the intermission of "The Boy in the Iceberg," Zuko and Toph are fed up with Aang and Katara's drama.

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

For Throwback Thursday, thought I'd post the first fanfic I ever wrote, back in August of 2013 (so excuse how...not good it is). The way Katara goes from rejecting Aang to kissing him with zero conversations in between always bothered me, so I wrote this scene that could have been a deleted scene in the episode, and to this day the type of fanfic I'm most drawn to is "missing" scenes that would have improved an aspect of the story. So awkward writing is what sucked me down this rabbit hole.

******

"Ow! What was that for?" Zuko rubbed his arm, suspecting a bruise would probably form.

Toph just smiled innocently. "That's how I show affection," she said as if she had just baked him a cake instead of physically assaulted him.

Zuko was glad Toph hadn't been with Aang, Katara, and Sokka back when he was chasing them on their way to the North Pole. They had given him enough bruises, lacerations, and concussions on their own. If Toph had been there, he'd probably still be eating through a straw.

"So, anyway, do you know where Aang is? I'm starting to worry. I told Sokka that this play wasn't worth the risk."

Toph just frowned, "Why are you asking me? In case you haven't noticed, this whole place is made out of the evil substance known as wood."

"I thought maybe you would know because he told you. Ya know, that's how the rest of us keep track of where people are."

"That sounds like a hassle," Toph said casually with a finger digging in her ear, "Anyway, Twinkle Toes is probably in the same place as Sugar Queen."

Zuko groaned for what seemed like the 12th time tonight. "Good. Maybe with them alone together they'll finally clear the air and allow the rest of us to move on with our lives."

"Hey, at least you just got here. Meathead and I have had to endure this drama for months."

"I honestly don't understand what their thinking is," Zuko sighed with his head in his hands, "At least you have the excuse that Sokka has a girlfriend."

Zuko saw Toph scowl a scowl that would even put Azula to shame. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, and unless you want a more symmetrical face, you don't either."

Zuko rolled his eyes, "Whatever. I was surprised to find out they weren't official yet by the time I got here. Especially after Katara straight up threatened to kill me if I looked at him wrong."

"Wait, what now? You serious?"

"Yeah, it was the first night I spent at the Air Temple."

"Nah, she was bluffing."

"Toph, I grew up with Azula. I got pretty good at spotting lies. Katara meant every word she said. And it got even worse when I would try to train Aang. He would always make up some excuse about how he needed to practice more waterbending, even though he's been working on that almost a year."

Toph grunted in agreement, "You don't need to tell me. Just as I was about to break through his earthbending block, Her Sweetness comes in all 'Oh, don't worry, it's okay, we can practice waterbending. Come on, let's go splash around in our underwear.'"

"Yeah, I've been thinking that if they just got it out in the open then he could concentrate again. That's why I've been getting closer to Katara. I thought maybe if I piss him off enough he would man up and push me out of the way."

Toph smirked in her very self-satisfied way, "I knew it! Though, you might want to tell Snoozles about that plan. He's been worried that you really were interested in her. I guess that explains the seating arrangements this evening?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his head and smiled guiltily. "Yeah, I made double sure to sit next to Katara, and for a second he actually seemed like he was going to grow a backbone. I was thinking 'Come on, this is driving you crazy, isn't it? Call me out, why don't you want me sitting here?' but he hog-chickened out again. And I've been doing this for a while. After I saved Katara from being crushed at the temple, I made sure to stay on top of her just a little longer than necessary, but that just made her mad at me rather than him."

"And your little field trip?"

"Well, no, that really was just me trying to help her. But me decidedly not inviting anyone else, not even Sokka, to come help find Yon Rha had something to do with my meddling."

"And plus, it certainly seems like the play is helping you," Toph laughed.

Now it was Zuko's turn to scowl. "I actually think I got more than I bargained for with that. I'm just certain that if he finally told her he liked her, they could move forward and not be stuck in this limbo."

Toph looked confused, "Oh, she knows that he likes her. Did no one tell you that? He kissed her on the day of the invasion. Twinkle Toes waited until everyone else was gone, but he apparently forgot that they were standing on a giant metal submarine. He's kind of stupid like that."

Zuko just sat back, re-thinking his efforts, that he apparently had been wasting, "Well….huh. I guess I was wrong. Maybe she doesn't like him that way."

Toph sniggered in the way she always did when people failed to hide things from her, "Oh, she likes him, Sparky. You don't enjoy a kiss that much unless you do."

"You can tell?" Zuko asked in an alarmed voice. Toph's semi-mind-reading abilities still creeped him out.

"Oh yeah, her heartbeat went through the roof and she apparently forgot how to breathe until Meathead reminded her that we had a nation to invade."

Now Zuko was downright angry now. "Well then why the hell are they still dragging this out!?" He asked, probably too loudly.

Toph smirked and raised one eyebrow. "I think the better question is why you care so much. I mean, I find the drama annoying, sure, but you're really going above and beyond." She nudged him in the side and winked, "could it be that our own resident Angsty McEmopants is secretly a hopeless romantic?"

Zuko elbowed her back, "I'll have you know that I care as his firebending teacher. Firebending is fueled by raw emotion and passion," he nervously tried to figure out a euphemism, "and I just, um, thought that if he had a particular something that invokes certain….urges, then it would give him a little boost."

Toph grinned again. "So you're hoping that Sugar Queen makes him hot in more ways than one?"

Zuko groaned. "Well, if you must put it that way, yeah. You've been hanging out with Sokka too much." He stood up, "I'm going to go find them to see if they do something stupid."

And, sure enough…

***************

Katara was a split second away from kissing Aang back when her eyes shot open

NO!

She pushed him away, trying to muster up some anger. "I just said I was confused!"

Aang simply looked down. He had the same look on his face as when she pulled him out of the Avatar state at the Southern Air Temple, and he had no choice but to accept that he was the last airbender.

"I'm going back inside." She had intended to calmly walk back into the theater, but she had to run to keep Aang from seeing her eyes watering. She burst through the doors and stopped a few steps in to try to get ahold of herself. That was when she heard the voice behind her.

"Katara, who exactly do you think you're fooling?"

She whirled around and saw Zuko standing behind the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Had he been listening?

"Yes, Katara, I was listening. So I'll ask you again, who do you think you're fooling?"

She turned around with a scowl on her face, determined not to get roped into this conversation. If she couldn't talk about Aang with Aang, how could she with Zuko? "Mind your own business, Zuko."

"Katara, you're a very gentle soul. You're peaceful, compassionate, understanding, slow to violence. To the point of stubbornness, in fact, which is one reason you two deserve each other. Hell, you didn't even kill the man who murdered your mother in cold blood. And yet even now, I don't doubt that you would have one second's hesitation to end me if you thought I might hurt Aang."

"Don't paint me in that light Zuko," She couldn't help but smirk, "I would totally give you one second's hesitation. Probably."

"So why are you putting up this 'confused' act?"

She put her hands on her hips and scowled, "You don't know how I feel, Zuko! Of course I'm overprotective of Aang, he's my best friend, not to mention that whole only-hope-for-the-world thing."

Zuko raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Your friend, huh? That's funny, because it's not Toph you were homicidally protective of, nor your own brother, who would be a lot easier for me to hurt, need I remind you. And don't think that I didn't notice you getting angry when those actors had you saying that you think of Aang as a brother. That wasn't a look of concern about Aang getting his feelings hurt, that was you pissed because they got something wrong about you."

"Well aren't you just the mind-reader?" she asked with enough sarcasm to upstage her brother.

"No, I'm not. I don't have to be. Newsflash Katara, the entire group knows. Sokka, Suki, Toph, even Duke, Haru, and Teo knew about it. Hell, all it takes is watching a single one of your 'waterbending sessions.'" He said the last two words with air-quotes.

Katara looked away nervously and blushed, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, to be fair, I'm not a waterbender, but none of my training sessions involved my teachers pressing up against me from behind to correct my stance."

"So, I was making doubly sure he had the proper form, what's your point?"

"My point Katara, that I had the waterbending scroll in my hand as you were doing it, and he was already doing it right. There was no 'correcting' to be done."

"Alright, FINE!" She almost shouted, "Maybe I have some feelings for Aang, but…he can't afford any distractions or confusions right now."

"Katara, don't think that I'm stupid enough to believe that you're stupid enough to believe that. In what way would knowing that the person he loves loves him back and is there for him be a distraction? What is a distraction, however, is this game you're playing. Why do you think I'm here? I don't care about your love life, but this uncertainty is keeping me from doing my job as his teacher. Even after we trained with the dragons, Aang has been too timid, too hesitant. Firebending requires lowered inhibitions and absolute confidence in oneself. Now I know why he's been like that. Because the one time he was completely open and bold in his emotions about the thing most important to him, you left it hanging there untouched for weeks. And now that you've full-on thrown it back in his face, he might get even worse."

Katara couldn't keep her eyes from watering anymore, "Well then he should get over it! Get over me! What's the point, Zuko? It's not like my love for him will protect him! What, is your dad going to be so moved by our love for each other that he decides not to try to kill him?" She slumped against the wall and sat down, hugging her knees as tears streamed down her face, "He died in my arms once already in Ba Sing Se. I can't lose him all over again."

Zuko came over, sat down and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Before I left to join you, I had a girlfriend back home. Her name's Mai. You've already….become acquainted with her."

"I'm better acquainted with her knives, but whatever."

"When I left, I left a note for her saying that we weren't together anymore. I thought ending our relationship would make her lose her feelings for me, so that if anything happened to me, she wouldn't be hurt. Sokka and I are still alive because I was wrong. Even though we weren't technically together anymore, she still loved me enough to go against Azula and save my life, and I still love her enough for that knowledge that she's rotting in prison eat me alive every single day. Hiding behind words and technicalities about where you stand can't change how you feel. It just adds the weight of things not said if something does go wrong."

He stood up. "I'm going back to the seats. Think about it."

Toph was the only one already back when he got back to the balcony. "Have you seen Suki and Meathead yet?" he asked.

Toph answered with a punch to his gut, "Only I get to call him Meathead. But no. Honestly, Sokka has probably gotten them both thrown out of the theatre for harassing actor-Sokka. Twinkle Toes or Sugar Queen do something stupid?"

"Both did, actually. I think I might have managed to get to through to Katara."

People started shuffling in to retake their seats. "I will say this though, this intermission has definitely been the most dramatic part of the play so far."

[jaskierswolf]

This was based on an idea by @amadcat570 which I have totally deleted. Basically, Ice-skating, monsters, hurt comfort, love-confessions. Around 1.6k. Geraskier feat Ciri.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, drowning, angst, injury, but no death.

On AO3.

____________________

Jaskier was having the best time. He’d finally been invited to the elusive witcher’ keep in the Blue Mountains. Ciri, Geralt’s child surprise, had done wonders for his friend. Geralt was actually starting to open up to him. He’d spent decades of slowly chipping away at Geralt’s walls and worming his way into the witcher’s life, and the young princess had managed it in a matter of days. If Jaskier had doubted Destiny before then he certainly wouldn’t any longer. It had also been Ciri’s influence on Geralt that had forced the two estranged friends to reunite. Ciri had been devastated to learn that Geralt was no longer travelling with the famous bard, Jaskier, and practically begged Geralt to go and find him.

Jaskier had been in the middle of teaching a class when the door had flung open to reveal a very soggy Geralt of Rivia, dripping mud all over the floor. Ciri’s head had popped out from behind Geralt. Her long ashen hair had been hidden under a hat but Jaskier had recognised the emerald green eyes of Pavetta immediately. Jaskier had dismissed his class and the three of them had spent the next few hours awkwardly catching up in the classroom. Geralt’s apology had seemed genuine enough and Ciri was an utter delight so Jaskier agreed to join his ex-former friend once more.

Geralt was warmer with Ciri around and by the gods was that doing funny things to his heart. Geralt’s cruel words on the mountain had shattered the spell the witcher held over him. His puppy love crush on his best friend and melted away after weeks of sobbing every night in his rooms at Oxenfurt. Time apart had helped him to see his time with Geralt in a new light. The rose-tinted glasses faded away and his ballads became grittier and less like a fairytale, but now being around Geralt again he could see why he had loved him so irrevocably and for so long. There was a vulnerability in the witcher that he desperately tried to hide, a yearning for acceptance and love but the fear of being known. The duality of it tickled Jaskier’s curiosity and he so desperately wanted to know more, even after all these years of following Geralt.

He wanted to know Geralt’s warmth. He wanted that daft fond smile and fucking hell he wanted to love him, even after everything.

“Jaskier!” Ciri flew towards him in a blur. She’d been training with the witchers and it showed. She’d already been a fierce young princess before the training had commenced but she’d taken to the witchers’ workouts like a duck to water. Jaskier tried to balance it out with lessons in art and poetry but the princess would rather have a sword in hand than his lute. “Jaskier, Geralt is taking me to the frozen lake to go ice-skating! You have to come!”

Jaskier laughed and set aside the book he’d been reading. He tried to stay inside the warmth of the keep but he was a travelling bard, and his natural wanderlust was starting to itch under his skin. He hadn’t been ice-skating since he was child at Lettenhove. It would be fun. Maybe he could even convince Geralt to join them on the ice, he could pretend it was a sort of date?

Nah. That would be pathetic. He was above that.

“Ice-skating you say?”

Ciri nodded with a mischievous grin dancing on her lips. “It’s taken days of nagging but I finally wore him down.”

“Well then, come on! Let’s get our coats and gloves. Sadly, we’re only human, young witcher girl. We need to wrap up warm.” ________________________

If Jaskier had thought Ciri was a blur before, it was nothing compared to her skating. She streaked across the ice like lightning. It was as if she were some kind of mythical ice spirit. Her turquoise cloak flew out behind her and her long blonde hair whipped around her face as sharp blades cut into the ice. Geralt was watching from the shore, squatting under a tree with the hilt of his steel sword resting under his chin. Jaskier was a little unsteady on his feet. The ice was slipperier than he remembered and he was out of practice.

“Come on, bard!” Ciri giggled as she skated circles around him. He hissed and stumbled, almost falling on his arse for the third time.

“Leave him alone, Ciri,” Geralt called from the shore.

Jaskier winked at the witcher as he steadied himself. “I knew you cared!”

Geralt just rolled his eyes and shook his head but Jaskier knew his friend was secretly smiling under all his grumbling.

Ciri began to show off, jumping high in the air and spinning like a tornado. It was incredible. The rhymes and melodies about the Ice Princess were already forming in his mind. His fingers flexed as he itched for a quill or his lute. He would need to go back to the shore with Geralt. He needed to write this down before the idea faded away.

“Geralt?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you bring my notebook in that bag of yours?”

Geralt sighed and pulled out Jaskier’s small leather-bound book where he scrawled most of his composing. Jaskier grinned and started to stumble back to solid ground when the ice cracked and he heard Ciri’s scream.

“Shit!” Geralt grabbed his silver sword and began running across the ice.

Jaskier spun round to see a kikimora crawling across the ice towards Ciri. It’s long spindly legs were scratching and sliding all over the ice. Ciri screamed again and Jaskier was thrown backwards. He landed hard against the ice and it cracked underneath him.

“Bollocks!” He tried to grip the ice but his gloves were soaked through and his legs fell into the icy water. “Geralt!”

“Jaskier!”

The ice was freezing and he couldn’t breathe. His fingers slipped on the ice and he fell underneath the surface. The water burned his lungs as he gasped. Fuck it was so cold. He could still hear Ciri’s screaming even through the water. He tried to swim upwards but there was a sudden pain in his head. The water around him turned red and he saw the dark black leg of the kikimora falling through the ice. He tried to call for Geralt as his vision began to spin. Water filled his lungs and he was so cold.

He was so cold…

Cold…

_________

He couldn’t be dead. Jaskier knew that much. Death could not hold so much pain. His head felt like he’d been drinking solidly for a week whilst being hit repeated in the temple with one of Geralt’s swords. His throat was burning and his chest felt tight. He gasped a shaky breath of air and winced as he opened his eyes.

“Jaskier?”

“G’ralt?”

“It’s me. I’m here.”

Jaskier blinked a couple of times. Even the dim torches of Kaer Morhen were painfully bright. He was wrapped up in what appeared to be every fur in the keep and…. was this Geralt’s bedroom?

He struggled to sit up and Geralt gently pushed him back down. “Oi,” he grumbled hoarsely.

“Rest, Jaskier.”

“How’s your bard?” Another voice asked. Jaskier couldn’t work out whether it was Lambert or Eskel. His head was ringing too loudly.

“Ciri?” Her screams, that was the last thing he remembered. They had been so loud. She must have been dying. “Where’s Ciri?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Yen now, but she didn’t get knocked out by a kikimora and almost drown, Jask. I… I thought I’d lost you. I should have been closer. I should have kept you safe.”

Jaskier was surprised by the pain in Geralt’s voice. This was the same man who had tossed him aside like a dirty rag, and now it seemed as if that was the last thing the witcher wanted. Jaskier was also suddenly aware that someone was holding his hand. He coughed as the burning in his throat tickled him and he squeezed Geralt’s hand.

“I’m alive,” he tried to reassure the witcher.

“Barely.”

Jaskier licked his lips and looked up at Geralt. His head ached behind his eyes and the room was still too bright but he needed to see Geralt. He need Geralt to see him.

“I’m alive because you saved me, and not just today, my dear. You have saved me in so many ways and so many times.”

Geralt growled and shook his head. “You were only ever in trouble because of me. You were hurt… because of me.”

Jaskier frowned and closed his eyes with a sigh. They were talking about the dragon hunt now. He could feel it in his bones. “You were trying to protect me.”

Geralt laughed bitterly. “I couldn’t even managed to do that right.”

Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hand tightly. “No, but I forgave you. It’s time you forgave yourself, my dear,” He coughed again as he felt sleep try to pull him back under. “Be here, when I wake up?”

Geralt hummed. “Yeah.”

“I love you,” Jaskier mumbled almost incoherently as the darkness took him once more.

He didn’t hear Geralt’s reply. He didn’t hear the words he’d been longing to hear since he was eighteen. Geralt knew this and he would repeat them again once Jaskier woke up, and again and again and again until the bard slowly began to believe him. For now, Geralt settled for placing a kiss on Jaskier’s brow. His heart was beating too fast in his chest for any witcher but he was a witcher in love and for once in his life he would allow himself to enjoy that feeling.

“I love you too, Jask.”

[hayjeon]

You Set My Heart on Fire 01 [M] ft. Namjoon

→ fireman!namjoon and paramedic!y/n au (warning: drunken sex, oral, etc.)  → 10k words, part 1 | part 2 | fin. → As a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

Hi! this is a reupload, and i figured i’d vamp up the title and the header in the meantime! Thank you to the user who managed to save this just in time, after I accidentally deleted it T___T I am forever indebted to you, and I lost your username, so if you see this pls dm me i’d love to write something for as a token of my appreciation!

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair as the lawyer continues to lay out the demands.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you huff, glaring at the idiot gangster who’s at the other side of the room. He cringes a bit at your glare, nursing an ice pack against his bruised cheek.

“I swear, he slapped my ass! I was just retaliating!” You cry, frustrated. Your surgery chief huffs angrily at your behavior and you settle back, clenching your fists on top of the table.

The lawyer snarks back, “You also managed to cause damage to the victim’s body in the process. He’s demanding full reparations. Let’s see,” she muses, flipping through the documents spread out on the table between the both of you. “A broken nose, bruised cheekbone, fractured wrist from when he fell, and muscle strains on his lower back, and psychological damage from framing him for sexual harassment and from the physical assault. In total, it would amount the hospital to about $50,000 to cover the hospital costs and the time he would need to talk off from his job, and the continued physical and mental therapy sessions to follow for around 6 months.” She closes the file with a grin. “So, Dr. Y/N, what’s it gonna be?”

“Chief, I can’t believe we’re just losing to him!” You cry, following after Dr. Kim, who’s seething as he storms down the hall outside of the conference room.

He screeches to a halt, turning around with a glare. “Well, what do you wanna do?!” He throws his hands up in defeat, “You want to cause a whole legal issue? You know that there’s really nothing else we can do in this situation! It’s your word against his, and the video cameras only show proof of him passing by you, and then you throwing a big ass punch in his fucking face!” He cries, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.

“Look, Dr. Y/N, you did the right thing. The fucker deserved the punch, and you threw a good one. But,” he continues, placing his glasses back on his nose and patting your shoulder, “giving him the money is the best thing we could do for both the hospital and for you. So, just, take this next month off, get the community service done and then come right back. Alright? I’ll even let you head all the interesting cases that come into the operating room.”

He sighs, and walks off, leaving you behind. You roll your eyes and run a hand through your hair, fist clenching on the brochure of community service options for doctors.

The fucker had brought his girlfriend in during your shift at the emergency room, and while she was getting stitches for a cut that she got from a building collapse, in the craze of the emergency room, he was going around touching asses. You’d heard the nurses complaining about it, about how it was just a swipe of the hand that seemed like an accident, but multiple had the same experience from the same seedy-looking jerk.

When it was your turn to go up to the patient and explain that her stitches were done and she was alright to go home, he’d come up next to you and his knuckles grazed the skin of your ass. Sick of everything, you’d pushed him back and socked him straight in the face.

Later, from the cameras though, there was no visible evidence of him touching anyone, and it was your word against the clear security camera shot of you socking him right in his big ass nose. So you open the brochure and plop down at your desk to see what options there were. There were the general ones, where you could serve and clean up at a park or volunteer at a soup kitchen, and then there was a separate page for doctors who probably just wanted to maintain their skills in the field they volunteered in. You pick up the phone.

“What?” Yugyeom asks, “Chief seriously ended up giving you a probation period for community service?” He sighs over the phone, and you roll your eyes too.

“Yeah,” you huff, “which one should I do? I should sign up today, since it might take a bit to get approved and might as well start early so I can go back to work as soon as I get all my hours finished.”

He muses, probably scanning the picture you sent him. “Hm...well look, you can go travel to Africa or Cambodia or something. It’ll be like that one drama with Song Joong Ki in it. Maybe you’ll meet a hot military general. What do you think?”

“Too far,” you complain, taking a red pen and drawing a line through it. “Also, they don’t cover air fare or housing. Maybe something more local.”

“Okay, well then what about teaching kids in elementary and high school about general first aid and health? You can maybe meet a single teacher who’s good with kids. That’s kind of hot.”

“I fucking hate kids, Yug, you know that,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and crossing out that option. “Also, why are you trying to get me laid, you should be worried about your own empty gay love life.”

He huffs, “Well, bitch, if you’re gonna be so picky why’d you call. Just take the second to last one, the medic for the fire department! It’ll be fun, I know a friend who works in the one that’s close by to the hospital, so you can just commute from there and if you guys ever end up coming to the emergency room, you’ll see all of us there too.”

You hum, scanning through the brief description: Medic for the Seoul Fire Department. In-department housing and meals provided during both on-call and working hours. Needs basic EMT and paramedic skills. Must be able to handle emergency situations calmly and communicate with safety officers.

You purse your lips, scoffing a little bit at the emergency part. “Well, if there’s something I can handle, it’s emergency.”

He laughs, “What a downgrade...from a cardio surgeon to a paramedic. Jeez, you better get out of this one quick. Just make sure not to punch anyone during duty, and you’ll be fine.”

“Shut up bitch. Let’s go clubbing tonight. I need to let some of this stress out before I get trapped in there.”

The night was lively and the drinks kept flowing. Jennie and Jackson from Health and Nutrition, Sana from pediatrics, Yugyeom and Seulgi from Cardio, and even the oh-so-popular Jaebom and Jinyoung from general surgery came out.

You were dressed in the hottest dress you could find in Seulgi’s closet, and according to Yugyeom’s apparently “gay and therefore superior opinion,” your outfit and hair and makeup were basically a “straight guy’s ticket to bonertown.”

“Legit, how could you be so gay but also talk like such a frat boy at the same time?” You sneer, taking another shot of vodka.

He sucks on his lemon, and then flashes a smile. “It’s the best combination. I pull.”

He cocks his chin to a direction behind you. “Also seems like I was right, because you’ve been pulling too. That guys been staring ever since we got to the bar.”

You turn, blurry vision settling on a handsome, leather jacket clad guy that’s sitting with two other guys at the table. He’s looking now, eyebrow cocked and lip between his teeth. He’s not usually your type, but you feel it. This, was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

You get up, patting Yugyeom on the arm. “Thanks, I’ll take myself home tonight.” He whistles behind you as you try your best to make your way to the guy, but suddenly your drunk ass hobbles on your Forever 21 heels, and you topple to the side. All of a sudden, there’s a strong hand gripping your upper arm and pulling you up, and an arm wrapping around your waist to offer support.

“Oh shit, miss, you alright?” A low voice sounds right next to your ear. You look up, expecting to see the leather jacket guy, but this...this was much better. This guy was dressed in only a black t-shirt tucked into blue jeans. But his simple ensemble didn’t matter. He was tall, way taller than you in your tallest heels, and he smelled so damn good. His hair was slicked up and his skin absolutely golden. He wasn’t biting his lip or doing anything to try and hook up with you, but in seconds, you were sopping wet.

No, this was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

“I will be,” you answer him, straightening up and pressing yourself up against him. “when you buy me a drink.”

He seems to understand what you’re getting at. He chuckles a bit, eyebrow quirking and you think it’s the hottest shit you’ve ever seen since waterproof scrubs. He helps you straighten up. “I think you’ve had enough drinks already. Can I get you some water?”

“Yes,” you breathe, but not letting go. “But only if you stay with me until I’m finished.”

He smiles, and keeps his hand on your waist as he guides you the bar and orders a cup of water. You sit on the single empty bar stool, and he stands, and you revel in the fact that even on this tall bar stool, he still stands taller than you.

You sip the water, and he leans an elbow on the bar, inches from you.

“So, what brings you stumbling into this bar?”

“I’m here with some coworkers,” you say, and he leans in closer to hear you over the loud music.

“Won’t they be looking for you?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” You pout, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Hell no, I’m just worried.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead.” You fire back, and he laughs again.

“You gonna keep laughing at my jokes or are you gonna ask me to come home with you?” You raise your brows as you sip your water, looking at him over the rim. His expression darkens, but the corner of his mouth sexily turns up.

“I might laugh a little more just to tease, I suppose. Helps build up for later.” He leans up, hand on the bar, but steps a bit closer to you this time. If you leaned up a bit, you’d kiss. He chuckles again, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He smiles and leans down, other hand cradling your waist as you reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling harshly when he slides his tongue into your mouth as soon as you open up for him.

He’s a good kisser. He knows how to move his lips, knows when to pull back to leave you wanting for more, and does that thing where he stops kissing to just peck wetly at your lips before sinking in for more. Hook, line, and sinker. You’re done. “Let’s get out of here, please,” you whimper against his lips, and he smiles, straightening up.

“As you wish. Oh, also what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you shout over the music. “What about you?”

“You can call me Joon.” He smirks.

The ride to his apartment is blurry, because all you remember is a lot of giggling and trying not to moan at how his hand is so big around your thigh that you have you physically restrain yourself from jumping him on the highway right there. The tires screech as he parks and you both laugh as you stumble into the elevator, giving the security guards watching the cameras a show when you straight up make out with him in the corner of the elevator, his hand up your dress and your hand up his shirt.

He pushes you against his closed door, dropping his keys and jacket on the ground as he undoes the zipper on your dress. You tug at his shirt, “Off,” you whine, and he smiles, stepping back to whip his shirt off with one hand behind his neck.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” you whimper, and he kisses you breathless. “You’ve been saying that all night. Creative, much?”

“Fuck off, I don’t do hook ups much and I’m just telling the truth,” you say, as he gathers you in his arms and literally picks you up and heads to his bedroom. His hands squeeze your ass as he makes his way over, and you catch a glimpse of a neat, tidy living room. His bedroom is clean too, especially for a bachelor. Navy blue sheets, sleek, black furniture, expensive looking place. He was literally so fucking hot.

He drops you on the bed and immediately drapes over you, his jeans rubbing against your soaked panties. He slides his splayed palms up from your waist up to your breasts, mouth following the motion as he laves his tongue over your nipple, palm gently cupping the weight of your breasts in the grip between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. You preen at the sensation, back arching off the bed. “Pants off,” you pant, squirming underneath the warmth of his hands and mouth.

“So bossy,” he comments, smirking as he leans up on his knees to undo his belt. “I dig that.”

You lay back, taking the time to wiggle out of your soaked panties. You thank the gods you chose to wear your new set of lace undies because the rest of your drawer was basically an ocean of white granny panties. He finally drapes back over you, hand gripping your thigh to open you up as he mouths at your neck.

You retaliate by reaching down and gripping his cock, hand squeezing at his base. You can’t really see it because your face is nestled in his shoulder, but you can feel how hard and big he is. He groans at the sensation, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear, sending tingles down your spine and your core clenching around nothing.

He props himself up as he looks down at you and slides a finger between your folds. Your yelp dissolves into a drawn out moan. “Oh my god,” you pant, as he slides the flat of two fingers over your bundle of nerves, “please don’t stop that.” You also work your fist over his cock, mouth blubbering nonsense into his neck. He moves the fingers down into your pussy, sliding in with practically no resistance and slowly drawing them in and out your wetness. You don’t really have much time to be embarrassed by the wetness you can hear, because Joon closes his eyes and bites at the soft skin at the top of your breast.

“Shit,” he grits, and he looks down to see the way your wetness glistens on his fingers, “I don’t think I can wait. Are you good?”

You nod eagerly, and you let go of him as he gives you a hard kiss on the mouth and slides a condom on while still fingering you. Its probably not porn-worthy whatever sounds you’re making, but it seems to do the trick because he kisses you even harder and then flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting in his lap. He cradles your waist and descends on your breasts again, tongue circling your sensitive nubs as you sink down on him inch by inch.

When you bottom out, you clench around him. He’s so long and thick, and it’s been a while since your last hook up. It borders on soreness, but the sensation of him moaning with your nipple in between his lips is enough of a distraction for you to work up the nerve to start moving.

It’s embarrassing how turned on right now you are, but Joon seems to be at the same level of deliriousness because he doesn’t stop touching you. From gripping your thighs, to groping your ass, sliding his hands from your waist up to your ribs, tangling in your hair, gently curling around your neck and tightening slightly, he’s literally everywhere.

“Fuck,” you cry out when one of his hands are around your neck, squeezing lightly. You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, and the new rhythm puts your clit in that perfect position to get stimulated by his pelvis, and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you that you find yourself hurtling over the edge much faster than you’d imagined.

He mouths at your cheek and ear, hand still around your neck when you cum, and suddenly he grips your thigh and presses you down against his pillows as he kneels in front of you and begins fucking you hard. The bed knocks against the wall, but you can’t care because the new position has your orgasm prolonged to a point that you’ve never felt before and your mouth just stays open in a mouthless cry against his chest as he tenses and finishes into the condom, mouth panting hoarse compliments into your ear. “Holy shit, your pussy feels so good. So tight, fuck.”

He pulls out and rolls over so he’s not crushing you, and you let out a final breath. “Wow,” you say, chest heaving as he ties the condom and throws it away. He props his head up on an elbow, grinning at you. “That good?” He says cockily, and you turn to lightly punch his chest.

“Don’t get too cocky. It was just one orgasm.”

“But also seems like the best you’ve ever had.” He adds. You roll your eyes and retort, “Well, that’s what you think--,” but your laugh dissolves into a moan again when he reaches over and pulls you underneath him to press a long, wet kiss to your mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispers between kisses, "and kiss me back already.” You smile as he kisses you, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, and scratching lightly at his shoulder blades. He growls, and moves to your neck. You sigh as he draws more open-mouthed kisses down your neck and torso, and again when a big hand splays over your thigh to hook it over his shoulder. He presses a peck against your folds and looks up at you, and you mewl as he draws the flat of his tongue thickly through your pussy all the way up. You’re a goner.

“I’m gonna make sure you never forget my name.”

The walk of shame isn’t so bad when you basically have no time to waste as you gather your things and glance once back at Joon who’s still sleeping before running down to his lobby. You don’t really care for the disapproving looks you get, as you rush to get into your uber, and immediately thank god that this particular driver offers you a tiny complimentary water bottle. You chug it down, and try not to throw up.

You literally hurtle out of the car when he gets to your place, making a mental note to tip him heftily, seeing the way he booked it when you asked him to hurry a little. You step into a hot shower and don’t even have time to pick up the dirty clothes off the floor as you quickly dress in a white shirt and navy skirt and run out of your apartment to the bus stop.

Thankfully, you make it on time to your interview, and even though the captain gives a small disapproving look to your wet hair tips, he gives you a huge,  bright smile when you tell him you’re a cardio surgeon “taking a break.” When you told him that you used to work as a paramedic before medical school a few years ago, he basically hired you on the spot, babbling on about how much he loves people with more experience.

“So, miss Y/N, what are your interests, your hobbies?” Hoseok trails like a little puppy after you as you walk down the hall from the Fire Captain’s office to your team’s multipurpose room. You frown at him. “Eh,” you brush him off, “not much.”

He smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and trying to stand up tall, “Well, doctor, I love lifting weights and saving damsels in distress. What are you doing later, say, around 5?” You turn on your heel, and he bumps into you, scuttling backwards at the glare you have on your face.

“Look, honey,” you sneer, stepping towards him with a scowl, “You’re cute, but I’m hungover.” you say, scanning him up and down, “And I’m only here for a month and I swear if I have to spend the entire 30 days having you chase me down like a little pet, then I’m probably going to just jump off a building. Okay? So do me a favor, and stop asking me out.”

He gawks at you, and then recovers. “Wait...you’re only here for a month?”

Rolling your eyes, you resume walking towards the wait room. He wasn’t going to stop. “Yes, I’m here just to serve a short community service sentence.”

He hums, following your footsteps again, grinning. “Okay, fine. I won’t try to ask you out. I’ll just keep replaying the part where you said I’m cute over and over again in my head.” He winks at you lightheartedly.

“Here, let me introduce you to the guys.” He walks a bit faster than you as you approach the room, and creaks the door open and lets you in.

As soon as the door swings open, your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight in front of you. In the room, theres a half naked guy digging through the refrigerator, his firefighter’s outfit hanging around his hips. A pair of muscular large ones are wrestling in the corner, also only decked in sweatpants low on their hips. One lounges on the couch in a pair of glasses and a plain white t-shirt and navy uniform pants and boots, while a similarly dressed shorter one is asleep. A tall one is in the corner playing with a tiny puppy. All six of them swivel their heads towards you when you enter.

You wave awkwardly and take a step back to leave when Hoseok bounds in after you and throws an arm around your shoulder, announcing proudly, “Hey guys, this is the new medic hire! Dr. L/N!”  

The one closest to you gives you a smile, taking off his glasses and setting his book aside to reach out a hand. “Hey, I’m Seokjin, captain. Nice to meet you doctor!” He smiles and you make a note of how hot he looks in glasses and how broad his shoulders were.

“You can just call me by my first name, y/n,” you shake his hand, “Likewise.”

Another one that was digging through the fridge approaches you with a piece of gummy candy hanging from his lips. His face is sharp, but he breaks out in a huge smile that lights up his face. “Taehyung! Hi y/n, welcome to Unit 55!”

You shake his hand too, “Thanks. Do you have any firewomen?” You glance around as the pair who were wrestling stop their antics and approach you shyly. The taller one shrugs, his muscles rippling as he does and you make a huge effort not to stare. “No, honestly it’s really hard to find a firewoman these days and they probably don’t like spending time with all guys like us either.”

Taehyung leans over. “That’s Jungkook by the way.”

His partner punches Jungkook’s bicep and turns to you with a show-stopping smile. Oh. The girls would swoon for both of them, you note. They’ll have no problem finding firewomen who want to spend all day with them. “I’m Jimin. And even though this idiot makes us sound like a bunch of goons, it’s just rough being around 7 guys all the time for girls probably. But we’ll do our best to help you get comfortable around here. We’re really fun, I promise!”

You frown, glancing around the room and counting the people you’d met already. Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin. Which left just the one still asleep somehow through all the commotion on the couch. Seeing your eyes trail over him, Seokjin looks at you over the rims of his glasses, pointing at the sleeping figure with his chin. “Oh, yeah. That’s Yoongi. Good thing he’s not awake cause he’s really grouchy, but he’s also a really good driver so we keep him. You should meet him later when he’s done with his nap.”

You laugh a little, and nod. “And the 7th?”

Jungkook throws on a shirt as he talks. “Namjoon, our unit Battalion Chief. He’s not here right now, but you’ll be able to meet him later. He basically runs this whole thing.”

“Oh I see,” you muse, and give a tight-lipped smile. “Well, maybe I’ll start moving my things in soon. Can you show me my room?”

“Bitch,” Yugyeom sneers as he watches open-mouthed as the guys help unload your car at the station. “You didn’t tell me that all your co-workers were single, hot guys that walked around shirtless all the time.” He frowns at you, ignoring your eye roll, and then switching 180 degrees and laughing and smiling when Taehyung walks by with all your heavy trunks in his arms.

“Hahahaha, Y/N, you’re so funny,” he fakes, and then turns to you with a glint in his eye. “Maybe I should’ve punched that idiot in the face too and I would’ve been here instead.” He hisses, gawking at the way Jungkook and Jimin both easily haul your mattress up the steps. Shirtless, by the way. Again.

You sigh. “It’s only for a month. And honestly, you’re such a fake ass little bitch. You were the one trying to find me a man, and now that I’m surrounded by them, you resent me for it?” you huff. “Oh, Jin, those drawers just go in the closet, thank you.”

“No problem Y/N,” Seokjin grins, pushing up his glasses as he walks past you two easily, holding up the chest of drawers that took both you and Yugyeom an entire twenty minutes to shove in the moving truck. You give him a smile in return and turn back to Yug with a snort. “Wipe your drool.” You laugh, and he closes his mouth with a clack.

“I’ll literally visit you, like all the time, Y/N,” he whispers.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh also,” he turns to you inquisitively. “What happened last weekend? Did you end up going home with that hot guy?”

You pull him closer. “Keep your voice down,” you hiss. “Yes. I fucked him.”

He whistles lowly. “He wasn’t that good?”

Sighing, you check to make sure all the other boys aren’t in the vicinity. “No, that’s the problem. He was too good. I can’t stop thinking about it. Haven’t had a proper orgasm since.”

He looks unsurprised. “Well, when’s the last time you got laid. College?”

“Shut up, asshole,” you frown, “It’s only been like...a few months.”

“Okay, so I guess we’re calling last year’s during our we’re-not-interns-anymore-party a ‘couple months’ ago. It was like 13 months ago.” He points out, and you glare at him.

“Fine,” you snap, “okay? It’s been, like a year. But he was really good, no matter how deprived I’ve been.”

Yugyeom still looks unimpressed, so you pull his sleeve down to whisper in his ear. “I had five orgasms that night.”

He straightens up, turning to you with wide eyes, “FIVE ORGASMS?”

You wince as chief walks by with a stern look, and you pinch Yugyeom in the side as you laugh, “Oh hahahaha, Yugyeom, you’re such a hilarious guy. Why would a patient even talk about those kinds of horrible things in the waiting room?!”

That seems to help as the chief’s expression lightens and he smiles as he grabs a cup of coffee and ascends the stairs again. You drop the smile as soon as the chief is out of earshot and punch Yugyeom hard.

“Little bitch,” you hiss, “are you trying to get me fired?”

He rubs the spot that you punched. “Ow, and no. I’m just shocked. Did you even get his number or something?”

You sigh, watching as the boys come back down to retrieve a couple more things. “No,” you say forlornly, “I literally had to run out for my interview. I only know his name, and I’m not even sure if its right.”

Yugyeom sighs, watching Jungkook and Jimin banter as they come back down.

“Well, at least you have guys like them to keep you company. Did you bring your vibrator along?”

You pinch him again.

With the help of the boys, moving in wasn’t a problem. Surprisingly, the bunk rooms aren’t at all what you’d expected. It was less of a college dorm room style, and more of like a communal housing unit. Apparently, the Seoul station had updated their housing recently, so the inside looked like a newly furnished office hotel, basically.

Jimin was nice enough to move into Hoseok’s room so that you could have the corner room all to yourself, with a private bath attached. It was adequately sized, but there was a nice closet and twin size bed attached, which was an upgrade from the dinky communal on-call room bunk beds that the hospital provided for the residents to sleep in.

There wasn’t even much to unpack, besides a few articles of clothing, a desk and computer for you to do some catching up on hospital paperwork, a mattress so you could sleep on without knots in your back, and your toiletries. You had a uniform anyway, and you were pretty low maintenance. The hospital shifts didn’t really give much space or time to pay attention to your fashion sense or your looks, and it wasn’t going to change now, either.

You make your way downstairs after finishing, with the stairs of course. The boys had kept trying to convince you that you won’t die if you try the pole, but honestly you weren’t down to break your ankle, especially when you were expected to help during an emergency situation. The stairs were fine. You were only on the second floor anyway.

The boys are already eating in the large lounge, and you see that the sleepy fireman had woken up and had starting to cook.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls, scooting his chair over to make room for you at the center of their table. “Here!”

You smile and set down your phone, taking a seat as Taehyung brings you a tray. Its pasta and steak, with a huge side salad and green beans. You gape at the cook who’s still engrossed in tasting and perfecting the sauce for the pasta.

“Yoongi hyung’s a really good cook,” Jimin says, with a mouthful of salad and steak. With that, the man in question appears behind the younger firefighter and hands him a cup of water. “Don’t eat and talk at the same time. It’s disgusting.” He says with a curled lip, and then gives you a nod.

“You’re the new paramedic hire right?” He asks.

You nod, “Hi, yes. I’m Y/N.” He shakes your hand, nods, and turns away. “Not much of a talker, is he?” You say, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, “Yoongi’s not really an extroverted type. But he’ll warm up to you, just give it time.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. You have to sit in your room for a couple hours though, watching boredly through the instructional training online lessons you had to complete before starting your first day. You’re close to dozing off when a soft knock sounds.

“Yes!” You sit up and turn, and Jungkook appears, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Y/N! What you doin’?”

You stick a thumb at your computer, “Training videos,” you sigh, curling your lip. “Why?”

“Oh, hyungs and I are gonna watch a movie. If you wanna come sit with us in the lounge and do your training or just watch with us, you’re welcome to!”

You pause. “Won’t it be loud? I probably won’t be able to get anything done.”

“I’m pretty sure Seokjin hyung has done basic training before. He can probably give you all the answers to those end-of-lecture quizzes.”

Now there was your incentive to go. You smile, standing up and closing your laptop. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? Let’s go.”

He guides you down to where the lounge is and all the boys chime a nice “hello” or “y/n!” when you appear in the doorway. You can see that a new episode of Game of Thrones is on. You pad over to Seokjin and he smiles when you ask him for the favor, and moves seats to the couch behind so you can sit with him and watch at the same time.

The night goes smoothly, you tapping Seokjin everytime you finish a lesson and him pausing to quickly finish the quizzes, and you joining in with the debates about the show occasionally. Yoongi brings out some snacks, and eventually Jimin brings out a blanket for you, and by the end of the episode, your training is finished and you’re sipping on soda and eating pizza.

It’s nice, you think, a lot nicer than the hospital. You were used to the competitive nature of medicine. It was always competing against the other residents or interns to get a spot that had ridiculously low acceptance rates. There was always no time to relax. This wasn’t bad at all.

But you shake your head. This was temporary. A break. No need to get attached. They’re just being hospitable. You give a tight lipped smile as the episode ends and you take your laptop and blanket with you as you stand. “Thanks, guys, for inviting me. I’m gonna turn in tonight.” you say, slowly shuffling away. “Good night!” Taehyung yells, and the other boys chime in one by one.

You set your stuff down in your room and get ready for bed. Laying in your single bed, with no one else snoring or sleep talking, and with no post-surgery fatigue to get you straight to sleep, it’s hard. You end up staring up at the ceiling of your room, sighing as you try to think of the most boring topics in the world to try and get to sleep.

“Just a few weeks, y/n.” you murmur, turning onto your side.

You’re finally dozing off when suddenly, the intercom you had no idea was located right outside your door bursts to life. “Code 904B Building Fire. Code 904B Building Fire.”

You scramble up, throwing your covers back as you stick your head out into the hallway. The lights are flashing brightly, but you can hear the sounds of the boys in each room getting ready. The first one out into the hallway is Taehyung, and he jogs up to you. “Put on your uniform, y/n,” he pants, “and meet us downstairs as soon as possible. We gotta go, and since it’s a building fire, there might be a few injuries you can help us with.”

“Okay,” you nod, as the rest of the boys begin appearing in the hallway with navy shirts on and their firemen overalls already on. They one by one disappear down the pole and you scramble to get the paramedic bodysuit on. You pull on your boots hastily and then sprint down the stairs, and see the chief addressing everyone.

“Alright, Yoongi and half of you in car 1, and the rest of you in mine. Namjoon is already in his way from his meeting, so he’ll meet us there. Let’s go!” The boys break out into jogs as they hurriedly begin packing the hoses tightly and jumping into the cars. “Chief,” you call out, “Where can I go?”

“Go with Yoongi!” He yells, and drives off, sirens wailing. You jump into the first car and immediately you’re surprised when Yoongi, usually lethargic and slow, slams on the accelerator and your own truck bolts into life. Stumbling into a seat, you ask Hoseok, “So, this is how it always happens?”

He nods solemnly, his usual playful smile gone. “24/7. We gotta stay alert.” You nod. He points to a large, bright orange utility box in the corner of the bus. “That’s your medic kit. You can look through it now if you want, we’ll be getting to the site in a few minutes.”

You nod, perching the box on the seat next to you and digging through it. It was pretty basic, syringes, bottles of lidocaine and epinephrine for stitch jobs, synthetic thread, scalpels, bandaids, alcohol, gauze, and more. You were used to working with the minimum at the emergency room. And seemed like whoever was in charge of this box had kept it neatly and pretty well-stocked. You lock the box when the truck begins to slow, and look out the window to see the commotion.

A large building has caught on fire, and already there are two other trucks unloading at the site, their firefighters already hooking up their hoses onto the fire hydrants and assembling into position to enter the building for any remaining people. The whole area smells like smoke and through it, the glow of the orange fire against the night sky is barely visible.

Immediately as the truck parks, the boys in the vehicle spring to motion. Their uniforms are already on, helmets, gloves, and oxygen tanks and all. One by one they jog out the door of the truck and do the same, unloading the hose from the side of the firetruck and linking it easily to the fire hydrant and getting ready to spray down the building.

You pull your hair back into a ponytail and look around for anyone who might be in need of help. There’s already a few survivors out around the area in the grass, and you run over to a woman laying down.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” You say as you approach her and kneel next to her. Her husband is crying. “Sir! Is she okay? What happened?”

“P-please! We were just picking up our son and then the burning piece of wood fell on her leg. No one has been able to h-help her yet! Our son is still in that building, too!”

You unlocked your box and reassured him, “Okay, sir, I need you to calm down and help me. Someone will go find your son, but we need to help your wife right now. Do you have a phone on you? Can you use the flashlight? I need to see the area.”

He does as you instruct with shaky hands, and you carefully use the scissors in the kit to cut a strip down her pants. The burn is quite bad and covers a lot of surface area, in addition to having a huge laceration down her thigh that needs to be stitched up now, in case of infection or bleeding out. You frown, she must have been in a lot of pain.

“Ma’am, can you understand me? This is going to be a bit painful, but I need to sanitize the area.”

She’s just sobbing at this point, but you can make out some words. “Please,” she sobs, “M-my s-son!”

You lean closer, “Sorry? Your son?”

She sobs and nods, “H-he’s still inside!!” She pushes your hands away from her leg, “I won’t be treated until I find him!”

You sigh, turning around to see if there are any firefighters available. You see one coming out of the building to replace his oxygen tank. You run up to him, unable to see anything but his eyes through the protective gear he was wearing.

“Hey! Hey, this woman I’m trying to treat is refusing treatment until she sees her son, and she claims he’s still inside. Please, if she doesn’t let me treat it right now, she might have to amputate her leg.” He nods, and follows you to the couple.

When they see him approaching, the woman goes hysterical. “Please!” She screams, “He’s still in there, on the second floor. I haven’t seen anyone bring him out!”

“Okay, ma’am, I’m going to go back inside for him. You need to calm down, and let this lady treat your leg, or else it could get worse. You need to stay strong for your son.”

She nods, and turns to you. You spring into action, giving the firefighter a nod as he stands. You frown, his voice sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint it.

The lady begins wailing as the adrenaline fades and the pain of her injury begins to hit. You have her husband hold her hand as you pour some alcohol on the area and she wails as the open cut is cleaned out.

Quickly, you stitch up the wound and dress the burns so that they’re manageable. She refuses to take the ambulance to the hospital until she sees her son, so you coax her into just sitting on the gurney in the ambulance and wait for her son. You try and calm down the couple as you move onto address a few more people in the vicinity with minor cuts, scrapes, and burns.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion, and you turn to the building that’s now less of a bonfire and more of a quiet smolder, and the firefighter from earlier emerges with something in his arms.

The woman you had treated earlier immediately starts wailing and crying as the firefighter jogs over to you and her and sets a boy down onto a gurney. He’s unconscious, and the firefighter whips off his helmet as he addresses you.

“He’s breathed in quite a bit of smoke, and fell unconscious when I picked him up. He needs pediatric CPR!”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok cries out.

You gawk as you watch him yell instructions at you and the rest of the firefighters you’d met, brows furrowing and eyes widening as you recognize those slanted eyes, thick lips and angled jawline that you’d run your tongue over that one fateful night. It was Joon. He was a firefighter. His name was Namjoon.

“Y/N!” He grabs you by the shoulders, “Focus!”

You immediately spring into action, running towards the boy and checking his pulse. “Do you know how to do compressions on a pediatric patient?” You breathe, and Joon nods, throwing his helmet and his tank aside and opening the buttons on his uniform jacket before he climbs atop the gurney.

As he begins compressions, you deliver some shots on his arm and search his body for any large cuts or burns. You hook him up to an oxygen mask and turn up the machine to high. ��Switch!” You call out, and your hands replace Joon’s as you climb atop him and begin compressions.

“One, two, three...” You count out, as other paramedics swarm around you to prepare him to be delivered to the hospital as soon as possible.

The boy stirs, and you stop compressing, and watches as he begins coughing, from deep within, and you help remove his oxygen mask and pull him up to a sitting position as he continues coughing the smoke and ash out of his lungs. A paramedic gives him some water and after the boy finishes coughing, you help him sip some water as he recovers.

The others help usher him onto a gurney and also help his mother and father join the ambulance.

You watch as the blaring sirens fade away and sigh as the remaining firefighters douse the building in water and put out the flames. Your knees are feeling weak, your heart up in your throat, and your breath short.

Feeling a presence standing next to you, you turn and meet eyes with him. You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a once over from his ash-stained angular face to the bulky equipment and uniform lining his body. Probably from the boots he was wearing, he seemed even taller than from the club.

He gives you a cocky grin. “So, you’re a paramedic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, stopping down to collect your materials and all the wrappers of the syringes and needles you had used to treat your patients.

“Not a paramedic, a doctor. On voluntary community service.” You huff.

He stoops down too, setting his helmet aside to help with your tools. “No wonder you’re good with your hands.”

You stop, sitting on your haunches to give him a look. He does the same, matching your cold gaze with a smirk. “I think that’s very unprofessional, Mr. Joon.”

You stand, locking the paramedic box angrily and stomp away.

But he easily catches up to you, having those damned long legs of his, and follows you to your truck. It makes you angrier that he begins unloading his equipment and uniform off into the same truck you came in.

“I think, Y/N, the moment you started making out with me at that club, professionalism was kind of thrown out the window, don’t you think? You disappear that morning without a trace, and then suddenly you appear again at my workplace. Don’t you think I have the right to be a bit confused and curious?”

“Look.” You turn to him. “That was a one-night thing. I told you that I don’t do them often, and it was a mistake and I’m sorry, I won’t do that to you again. So just--” you throw your hands into the air, frustrated that he looked so goddamn good as he took off his thick outer coat and stood in front of you with just a black t-shirt and the pants of his uniform low on his hips. “--just pretend it didn’t happen. Just forget about it.”

You turn to walk away into the truck, but he stops you. “Wait! Wait wait wait, Y/N,” he turns to face you, the smirk wiped away and now brows attractively collecting in a frown, “For the record, I don’t consider that night as a mistake.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen as you frown up at him.

He doesn’t look away. The playfulness has dropped and he’s completely serious as his voice takes a lower tone.

“Sleeping with you wasn’t a mistake for me. Don’t apologize. I’ve only been able to think about you since then, and I don’t think that you showing up here out of all the other precincts or departments is another mistake, either. I’m sorry if I came on too strong, but I want to be clear with you that my intentions are to get to know you better, and do it the right way.”

“Do what the right way?”

“Date you,” he says simply, like he was talking about the goddamn weather.

Literally, who was this guy? Your mind was completely blank. Like, who just says exactly what they’re thinking? How could he just be so...honest? What’s his game?

You blubber out the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t date co-workers. Especially here. I’m only scheduled to volunteer for several weeks.”

He seems to gain a bit of confidence. “Y/N, that sounds more like an excuse, than it does a reason.”

You huff, blowing your hair out of the way. “Nonetheless, the answer is no.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Don’t be surprised if I ask you again.”

And he does.

Every. Single. Day.

When you wake up, “Hey, Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

“No,” you’d say, roll your eyes, and spit out your toothpaste.

When you’re in the library, reading up on the latest studies. He’ll pop his head in and say, “Oh, Y/N, dinner’s ready.”

When you look up and nod, “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

He’ll nod back, and then say, “Oh by the way, will you go on a date with me?”

You’d learned to just laugh it off or ignore him.

When you’re in the dining commons. You’ll be chatting with Taehyung about something and Namjoon will walk by, hand you a mug of coffee, and walk away without a word. When you lift the coffee up to drink it after Taehyung leaves for something, you find a slip of paper on the saucer.

Will you go on a date with me?

You crumple up the paper while maintaining eye contact and drop it into the steaming cup of coffee. Then, you stand, and pour the mug out into the trash, while he watches with an amused smirk.

The only times he doesn’t ask you out is when you’re on calls.

Over the next few weeks, you notice that Namjoon has three modes: 1) His Chief mode, 2) his off-duty mode, and 3) his flirting-with-you mode. Modes 2 and 3 tended to mix, especially when he was with you.

But whenever that light on the walls of the department begin to ring and flash, indicating an emergency call, Namjoon immediately enters his chief-mode. One time, he was in the middle of taunting you with probable bad-date ideas, the lights began flashing and you had watched as he shook himself out of his off-duty mode, and immediately started barking out orders to the group and you, responding to the dispatch on his walkie-talkie. It had happened in a millisecond.

You were in the lounge with Seokjin and Jimin, watching a movie while Yoongi dozed off in one of the couches. You had slowly begun to easily sink into this lifestyle. You guys were lucky if you got at least a few hours in between calls to relax, and since the most recent call was a small issue with some old lady’s cat up in a tree, Hoseok and Taehyung had volunteered to go on their own. It was a relaxing Thursday afternoon.

Like clockwork, right as you were almost dozing off, the lights began to flash and blare as your walkie-talkies exploded to life and the dispatch officer began reading out the issue.

The boys spring to life, immediately jumping over to the pole and going downstairs to change into their uniforms. You sigh and use the stairs to run down to the garage and get into your uniform, clambering into the truck as Namjoon begins listing out orders. It was a gas leak in a chemical factory, and they wanted the firemen to take care of it. You were only following for protocol.

“It shouldn’t be too complicated. Yoongi, did you contact the engineers to shut off the power?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, they turned off all electricity, but they can’t turn off the gas valve. It’s stuck.”

“Okay, that’ll be the first thing to take care of. Jungkook, can you take care of that?”

You watch as the firetrucks pull in and follow the men into the warehouse. It’s completely dark but they all turn on their headlights as they treck through.

Namjoon leads them into the main gas chamber where one of the tanks is steadily leaking a stream of cold, compressed air out of it. Him and Jungkook immediately head over and begin working together to tighten the valve, while Seokjin begins looking for the pipe that leads into the tank.

You watch, boredly as the men do their thing, when suddenly, Jungkook yanks a bit too hard and both him and Namjoon are thrown back.

Jungkook immediately begins yelling out, and you scramble up in horror to see that he’d been thrown back into a piece of metal that was sticking out.

“Oh my god,” you cry out as you rush to his side. “Jungkook, hold on, I got you. Can you turn on your side so I can see the wound better?”

He moves while wincing in pain, but manages to maneuver so that the wound on his back is facing you. Using a flashlight, you make sure that the metal didn’t pierce any vital organs or arteries, and reassure him that it’s okay as you begin cleaning and stitching up the wound. After you’re finished, you look up to see Seokjin run into the room, and let you all know that he’d disassembled the valve and fixed the leak.

You sigh in relief as you cut the final thread and place some gauze over the stitches. Hoseok and Jimin had returned to help, and they throw Jungkook’s arms over their shoulders as they help him walk out of the building. You begin to pack your things, when you see Namjoon lagging behind the rest of the group, clutching his arm.

You catch up to him, “Hey, are you okay?”

He winces, but nods at you to go. “I’m fine. Catch up with the rest of them. I’ll be right behind you.”

You frown as you survey his features. The boys are now out of sight and you and Namjoon are the only ones left inside the chamber. “No, you don’t look very okay. Did you get hurt?”

He finally relents, groaning in pain as you guide him to sit down on some steps and remove his jacket. You gasp as his t-shirt comes off. Jungkook had been impaled when he hit the wall as he was thrown back, but it seemed that Namjoon had been in the direct line of contact when the valve of the pipe had blown off. It had sliced through his uniform and left quite a deep cut in his rib.

“Holy shit, Namjoon, you are not okay. Let me stitch this up right now.”

He shakes his head, “Let’s get out of here, first.”

You push him back. “If you keep moving, this wound is too close to your vital organs and it might cause infection or you might bleed out. Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

He shakes his head as you begin unpacking your box of materials. For the first time in your few weeks at the department, you see a dark look of shame and regret written over his face. “I was the one who asked Jungkook to help me, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t be hurt.”

You click your tongue at him as you clean the wound, apologizing as he hisses in pain at the contact of alcohol. “You know, you say a lot of stupid shit, but that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard you say to me. Ever.”

He laughs a little at that, wincing as it puts pressure on his side. You glare at him as you examine the wound and begin numbing the surrounding skin. “You’re a great chief, you know that. I’m administering some pretty heavy painkillers. Tell me when you start getting a bit woozy.”

He just silently watches you hover over his torso, squinting as you maneuver the hook needle and stitch him up. “I think that’s the first time you ever complimented me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now your chief mode is off, I guess.”

He furrows his brows. “Chief mode?”

You nod, snipping at the threads as you begin another stitch.

“You have these modes you enter on the job. One of them is when you become this intense, no-nonsense leader, telling us all what to do and what to get done.”

He smiles, “And the other mode?”

“There’s two actually,” you say, still focused on his wound, “There’s one that’s always flirting with me, and there’s a third, where I can see that you really, really care for everyone on this team. That third one is the mode you’re in.”

“Are you maybe getting turned on by that mode, Y/N?” He winks at you, and you laugh, poking him in his side and making him groan out as you finish dressing the clean wound and help him get his uniform jacket back on. “Shut up, now your flirty mode is back on too.”

You’re cleaning up the materials in your box when suddenly, the lights come back on, bright white, and as you and Namjoon are squinting to try and reassess your surroundings, the huge gate to the chamber closes with a hissing noise and a loud clang.

“Shit,” you hear Namjoon cuss, and you scramble up, running over to the door and searching for a handle, a knob, or a button, anything to get it back open. You click your walkie-talkie, waiting for the static to sound to let you know that it’s communicating, but there’s nothing.

“No use,” he winces, zipping up his jacket, “The company probably just turned the electricity on when they saw some of the trucks leaving.”

You watch in horror as the vents surrounding you begin hissing and cold air begins drafting in. “What is this?”

“It’s a containment chamber for flammable chemicals, so I assume that it stays at a cool temperature. It’s fine, some of the boys will probably realize we’re here and be back in no time.” He lays down against the steps.

“Namjoon!” You scramble over, “Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? The temperature dropping is going to make your wound even worse. You need to stay warm, stand up if you can.”

He frowns, curling into himself with a pout. “I’m cold.”

You roll your eyes. It was the painkillers kicking in. He was getting lethargic, and it could kill him. “I know, you big fat baby, but if we don’t start warming up, we might die in here. C’mon, stand up.”

He begins moving around, although you instruct him not to stress his wound, he begins rocking around on his legs to try and make some body heat. You do the same, waving your arms around and trying to generate some heat.

At one point, you lose complete sense of time, and Namjoon wakes up from the initial wave of his painkillers to find the both of you huddled in the corner of the chamber, knees curled into your torsos as you shiver in the cold.

“Y-Y/N,” he breathes, and reality dawns on him as he sees the mist of his breath fan out from his mouth. “Y/N?”

“S-s-so cold,” you chatter, curling into him as he puts his good arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“D-don’t fall asleep,” he breathes, and you don’t respond, the chills rocking your entire shaking body as you curl into him further.

The walkie-talkie screeches for a moment, and Namjoon grabs it, responding back to the static. “H-hello? Anyone! Y/N and I are stuck in the main chamber! Temperature is dropping quickly. Hello?!”

The only response is static as he drops the walkie-talkie to just pull you in closer. “Y/N?”

There’s no response, and when he pulls back to try and look at you, your head lulls in his arms.

“Shit,” he mutters, “Y/N, Y/N!” He shakes you, but you’re completely unconscious in his arms. "Wake up!”

“No no no no no,” he chants, as he begins undressing, his whole body resisting the motions as he shivers in the cold, but he perseveres. He pulls his uniform open, baring his chest, and then proceeds to unbutton your uniform as well, baring a t-shirt underneath. He pulls your limp body close as he removes the t-shirt and then completely drapes himself over you, pressing your bare chests together as he pulls you tight against him, skin to skin.

He pulls the uniform tighter around your back so that you don’t lose any more body heat, when he finally hears yelling and pounding on the other side of the huge gate. He hugs you closer to himself before everything goes black, too.

[timextoxhajima]

NCT One Shot Collection

Member: Yuta

Genre: Fluff, a teaspoon of sed 

Word Count: 4k

Ding

A message popped up on your laptop screen. It was one of those messages from an online dating app you had been using the past week, and you couldn't wait to delete the stupid thing off your laptop. Why, you ask? You were on a deal with a friend who was trying to get you hooked up with someone, so she helped you install the app into your laptop and she guaranteed you that you would get picked up in no time. The only problem was that you didn't want to be picked up. You were perfectly fine living alone, the peace and tranquility of being alone had become your favourite thing to look forward to at home after work. But being friends with her for 10 years, you decided that it wouldn't hurt, and she wouldn't know anything if you didn't tell her. You roll over back to your desk on your roller chair and click a cross on the popup, before rolling back to your cabinet and sorting out some files for work. 

Ding

"Ugh," You groaned and shoved the files back into the cabinet, annoyed. You rolled to the desk, opening the app and looking at the notifications. Someone had left you 2 messages, the first one you had crossed away.

OS0162: Hello! I saw that you were reading a Japanese book in your profile photo. Are you Japanese, or learning?

You frown and process the information. Nobody had ever commented on your profile photo and the Japanese book.

You: I spent some years in Japan when I was younger so I can read Japanese, but I'm Korean by blood.

You hit send, muting your computer and closing the window. After clearing the cabinet, you roll back to your laptop and notice more notifications. 

OS0162: Oh, sweet! I'm Japanese, but I'm in Korea now. The book you're reading is really good, and I love the plot.

You frown again, pleasantly surprised. Nobody you knew was aware that the book even existed. But you weren't so quick to buy into his words.

You: Really? What's the plot about? Have you read it?

You hit send again, trying to test his sincerity.

OS0162: I have! More than once! Yakuno travels back to his father's castle through water portals and he freaks when he finds out that Miwanaki had been taken hostage by the government. I won't spoil the ending for you, if you haven't finished the book.

You have, and that was exactly how the book went. He wasn't lying. 

You: Cool, so what brings you to Korea?

Send.

OS0162: Parents' family business.

You blinked.

You: Training to become heir?

Send.

OS0162: You could say so, but I'm not the most keen on running around and making sure my henchmen do what they are supposed to do. I kind of have other plans I want to do instead of living my life because I was born into my family.

You paused to wonder and noticed his profile photo was of his back, and yours was of the crown of your head as you were reading the book. Neither of you knew how each other looked. 

This is ridiculous.

You shake your head and huffed, shutting off your personal laptop and using your work allocated one instead. 

The sun had set and your colleagues began trailing out of the office building one by one, sometimes in two. You were one of the youngest employees, but seated in a supervisor's office. You had a heavier load than your colleagues, and though sometimes it held you back in that boring four-walled room way longer than you colleagues, you didn't mind at all. You loved your work, and nothing could ever tear you away from it, not even that dating website. 

"Bye, y/n, don't go home too late," The last standing colleague of yours knocked on your opened office door, her bag in hand. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," You smiled at her and waved.

You pushed your hair backwards, leaning forward and saving your work on your work laptop. Closing it, you looked over to your own personal laptop and saw the sticker of Yakuno, the character from the Japanese book, pasted on the back of it. You had spent the first decade of your life in Japan, and your best friend had gifted you that book, the same physical book you were holding in your profile photo you used on the dating website. Your best friend had specially printed a whole sheet of stickers of characters and objects from the book to gift to you before you had left Japan. It was the most heartbreaking thing you could remember from your childhood, because you never saw that person again. The one and only person whom you had diligently remembered every likes and dislikes, even till this day, and yet contact was never kept. It had been more than 10 years, and it hurt you to realise that your best friend probably couldn't even remember how you looked like.

You pushed open the door to your penthouse, the built-in home system turned on jazz, lo-fi music.You pulled off your blazer and your hair tie, making your way into your bathroom and turning on the tap, filling up your bathtub. It had been a long week, and you needed this. You grabbed your phone and sealed it in a small waterproof bag, just in case you drop it in your own bathtub.

Ding. 7 unread messages from Kandlelite

You roll your eyes, annoyed that your laptop and phone were so perfectly in sync that whatever happened on your personal laptop happened on your phone too. 

OS0162: Hey, uh... I'm in Korea for two weeks

OS0162: Do you wna hang?

OS0162: I kinda need help with orienting myself around in Korea

OS0162: Especially in Seoul

OS0162: And Busan

OS0162: It's alright if you don't and you're busy though

OS0162: I understand

You couldn't believe it. That flitting thought sped past your mind, thinking of agreeing and actually meeting up with someone you've spent a day talking to. 

"Don't be an idiot, how good of a relationship can it be if it was started online?" You locked your phone and lifted your elbow onto the edge of the bathtub, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You were slowly slipping into some kind of peace and sleepiness, before the sound of your doorbell woke you up. 

"Jesus Christ, it's Friday night..." You groaned, leaning your head backwards and refusing to get out of the bathtub. The doorbell rang again. You growled and got out of the bathtub, wrapping a baby blue silk robe around yourself, pulling all of your hair to one side and making sure you look the most presentable you could be with wet hair and a robe. You looked at the intercom camera fitted onto the wall near the door, noticing that it was a male right outside, his body language looking confused and anxious. His face was covered and shadowed by his hoodie, so you couldn’t tell who it was. You frown to yourself, pressing the voice button and leaning towards the device. 

"Can I help you?" 

"Erm yeah... does anybody by the name of y/n live here?"

You frown more. "That's me, who am I speaking to?"

"Open the door and you'll find out," The man replied, almost like a child playing hide and seek. You pull away from the device and fold your arms. If today was the day you were supposed to die, you wouldn't be able to change it anyway. Who was to say that you were not going to be brutally murdered in your own home on a Friday night, right? You took in a deep breath and wrapped your slightly wrinkled fingers around the door handle, pulling it open with some force given the weight of the door. 

You would have never forgotten those eyes even if you had dementia, or a billion things on your mind. It was Nakamoto Yuta, your best friend from your childhood. 

"Hi y/n," He grinned. His teeth might've gotten larger and looked different, but the shape of his lips when he smiled hadn't changed. The way his eyes remained twinkling, some of his long fringe covering part of his eyes. 

"Yuta?" You whisper, like you were scared someone was going to catch you for saying something illegal. He smiled again and nodded, looking at you brightly, not bothering about how you were only in a robe and uncombed hair. He had seen you in a kiddy swimsuit more than 10 years ago anyway. You slowly and messily found a way to get your hands to unlock the gate, your eyes never leaving him for a second. He was dressed in a black hoodie, jeans and sneakers.

"I... how did you find me? Why are you here? How are you here? What--" You stopped yourself, watching him let himself in and close the door behind him. 

"It's been a long 13 years, y/n. I hope you're as happy to see me as I am," He said softly, watching your eyes shift in its eye sockets and observing his facial features. You warily stretched out your arms, like there were weights holding them down. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tiptoed and hugged him.

"I'm sorry I never kept in touch. My parents always told me I'll see you again soon, until your parents decided not to come back to Osaka," Yuta had his arms around your lower back, careful not to touch anywhere inappropriate.

"No, oh my God," You pulled away, tears now in your eyes threatening to fall. "I never blamed you. There wasn't anybody I could blame even if I was really angry. I tried looking for you, but I just... I googled your name everyday in high school!" You laughed softly, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. 

"Well then," He was now holding your hands between the two of you. "About how I found you... you can thank yourself for that. I found you through your company's website. Your name was so high up on the rankings, that I was so happy for you. I wanted to look for you earlier, but my parents kept me under some security system to protect me from anything the outside world could offer,"

"What? What do you mean 'protect'? Are you in any kind of danger? Your family?" 

"No... I... did you ever find out why exactly you grew up in Japan then had to move back to Korea?"

"No, my parents told me it was a business trip," You turned and gently pulled him to the sofa.

"Yeah, but do you know what business trip it made them stay in Osaka for 15 years, had you born there, then came back to Korea and not return to Osaka?" Yuta was now sitting down next to you, his eyes still fixated on you. 

You shook your head. It never occurred to you that the business trip and why they chose not to return to Osaka was related.

"Your parents were working with mine, and it was apparently a very dangerous business. Your parents never went back because it was under the safety protocol. They needed us separated because we were children, too big and too easy of some few targets to threaten the business with.”

You listened intently, confused. You never knew your parents were handling such a dangerous business. After you came to Korea with them, they just let you grow up like any other kid. Study hard, go to university, get a job, work to the top. Whatever your parents' lives had been in the first 12 years of your life was unknown to you. They covered it up so well and so carefully, it never occurred to you that you could've been in any trouble.

"I only found about this a few years ago, when my father told me the business was now stable and fixed. He wanted me to start preparing to take over the business, but before I could do that at home, I needed to find the Korean half of it for a merger sequence. Your parents now live in--"

"Busan," You looked at him, ready to break out in laughter. "You're on Kandlelite. OS0162. OS for Osaka and the numbers... it’s your birthdate reversed," You laughed. Yuta was confused for a moment, before he realised what you were talking about. 

"No way, you're the one I've been talking to the entire day? Man, the odds..." 

"I know, right? Lord, I just... the last thing I expected on a Friday night in the middle of July is for you to show up on my doorstep after virtually talking to you the entire damn day," You sigh and lean back in the sofa, running your fingers through your damp and uncombed hair. He smiles.

"It's a really nice place you've got here,' He says after a minute of silence. 

"You say it like you don't have a nicer place to stay, given what your parents are doing," You joked, nudging him on the side. 

"You mean our parents. Your parents are as equally as well to do as mine, and no, I told my dad I didn't want a nice five star hotel."

"What? Then where are you staying? For two weeks, right?" You sat up straight again, giving him the same look you always gave him when he took something of yours and hid it somewhere when you were younger.

"I'm staying at a loft that's more traditional Korean," Yuta nodded. "Just about 20 minutes away from your place,"

"20 minutes? That's great. You can check out now and stay here! I'll bring you around Seoul and Busan for the next two weeks," You got off the sofa and stood up, excited. 

"You really didn't change much, y/n. Still the same girl I knew back in Osaka," Yuta blinked at her, then looked away and around. "Are you sure though? Don't you have work? I can't just suddenly crash your place like this,"

"Oh, come on! I can apply for leave until you're done with Korea. And yes, I have more than one bedroom, tons of space and even if I didn't, I would definitely make time for you. Besides, you hate staying at hotels and lofts," You raised a brow. Yuta rolled his eyes before breaking out into a large smile, nodding then agreeing to the arrangement. 

It became the best two weeks of your life. It was like those 13 years was never lost and you just picked your friendship up with Yuta where you left it off. You showed him around Seoul in the first week, letting him eat all kinds of street food, visiting random tourist stores for him to pick up gifts for his family. In the second week, the two of you packed for Busan to stay with your parents for a few days. The days were filled with home cooked food by your mother and old ginseng alcohol (Insam-Ju) from your father who were both as excited to see Yuta as you were at the start of the two weeks. Yuta's schedule included visiting schools, hospitals and the poorer areas of Busan, for him to research on how he could help improve the environments through the business and what he could do to help. The business that both you and his parents had started was only dangerous because there were rival companies who wanted the ideas for themselves, with many ideas much more practical and realistic than the rival company's. Your father gave Yuta a bottle of wine that he was supposed to have with Yuta's father, but never did because of the circumstances, the same circumstances where your family was forced back to Korea due to the threats in Osaka. The last three days were spent back in Seoul, where you took him to all your favourite spots in the city. Ramen in a convenience store, a picnic by Han River, late night barbeque sessions and early morning cycling, all in 3 days. While the two weeks spanned longer than a day, it felt like it was a day, but never enough to compensate for the 13 years you had lost with him. All the times that the both of you had tough times, first relationships, first heartbreak, academic stress followed by the obligation to handle the company on Yuta's part, all done without one another and you could only imagine how easier life would've been growing up, had Yuta been with you all this time. 

Your last favourite stop which was the stop you procrastinated till the end, due to how cliche it was, was the N Seoul tower. You always loved the romantic part about getting locks as a symbol of promise and eternity. While Yuta took his time admiring the view of the city at the tip of the tower, you got two locks, one for him and one for yourself, whatever promise the both of you wanted, you would write on a sticker and paste it on or write it on the lock itself with a marker. 

Yuta wrote his in Japanese, while yours in Korean. You eyed his features from his side profile, marveling for the last 2 weeks how well he grew up to be. He was such a handsome man, with such a bright future and with one of the kindest hearts you knew, not just because he was your best friend. You turned back to your lock, and thought carefully before printing it down in ink. 

To Yuta whom I came with, I wish you happiness and love in the years to come. In success and in health, our friendship will never be replaceable. Not even if I get married. I love you with all my heart, I always have.

"I'm done," Yuta smiled at you, capping on his marker and looking at his blue lock like it was a pet. You smile back, looking around the fence for a space to lock them.

That night, the two of you decided to stay in and watch the movie that bonded the both of you: Yakuno's Fairytale. At the end of it, the both of you took deep breaths in synchronization, exhaling at the same rate and feeling some kind of peace, but at the same time, loss, knowing that he was leaving the next morning. 

"You know, y/n, this was the best 2 weeks I've had in a long long time. Seeing your parents again after so long made me realise how close I was to your family before, I really wish you could see mine," Yuta looked at you, then looked at his fingers, peeling small bits of skin off the edges. 

"You know I'd love to, but I have to stay and work unless it's during some official office break. I was lucky enough they let me off these two weeks," You sighed, leaning back on the pillows and watching him. 

"I know, y/n, I know... I just wish the last 13 years I spent alone could have been with you. When my dad told me about the company when I was 21, I freaked, you know. I was... angry and upset because their choice, and your parents' choice, had caused us to be separated. If our parents hadn't chosen to stay in that business, we would have never been separated so... abruptly. It sucked to have realised that they told us we'll be seeing each other again soon just to get us to leave one another... only to wait 13 years,"

"Yeah, but if they didn't take it up, both of us wouldn't have been so well off," You rested your head in your palm, your elbow perched on the top of the sofa.

"I just... 13 years lost, when it could have been with you," He looked at you, his eyes glistening and his eyebrows slightly furrowed near the center of his forehead. 

You watched him watch you, almost able to see your reflection in his. You chuckled to break the silence, shifting a little and pulling your legs in to yourself.

"What are you going on about now, Nakamoto?" You mumbled under your breath, your heart racing and suddenly unable to look at him in the eye. 

You thought you were the only one. 

"Remember when we were 10, we got lost at the Tenjin festival in Osaka together? When we were both scared, but for some God forsaken reason, I was more of a wuss than you were... and you took care of me, though I'm older than you?"

"Yeah, but you were like 2 inches shorter than me, it was easy to feel like you were the one needing protection," You snickered, eyeing him from the corner of your eyes.

"But now you're like 6 inches shorter than me," Yuta laughed widely. "Anyway, point is, y/n, 13 years was hard to get through, because as hard as I tried to forget about you, to move onto someone else, romantically, you were always at the back of my head, telling me that I was going to meet you soon, and that we were never meant to be separated." 

You went quiet again, ecstatic, yet afraid of what he was going to say next.

"y/n? Hey," Yuta shifted closer and looked at you intently. You didn't even realise that tears had formed in your eyes and your nose turned sour, your line of vision blur and Yuta's face was soft around the edges, instead of his defined features. "Hey, don't cry, please don't cry," Yuta wrapped his arms around you, quietly hushing you and you buried your face in his neck.

"I missed you, so much. When I was in college, I thought I'd never see you again. I couldn't blame anybody, not my parents or yours because they did what they had to do for our sake, and it hurt, not being able to blame anybody," You croaked, the back of your throat tasting bitter. Yuta hummed in response, gently stroking the crown of your head.

"But it's alright now, isn't it? We've found each other again and..." He pulled away and cupped your face. "I believe we both never lost our feelings for one another."

He said it. The truth that you had buried deep down in your heart for a long time, for more than 13 years, had finally been put out there. 

"I thought... I thought I was on my own... I thought you didn't know," You whispered. Yuta pressed his forehead against yours, reaching down to hold your hands.

"No, it wasn't just you. But I thought I was on my own too." 

You laugh. Fate was such a dumb idea. Separating you two when you were the best of friends, and more than a decade later, reunite the both of you, only to reveal the truth that both of you had kept to yourselves over the years. 

-

"I wish you could stay," You hugged Yuta's waist, feeling a kiss on the top of your head.

"I wish you could come," You heard him say into your ear. 

"I promise I'll visit Osaka soon," You reply. He hummed, stepping back and grabbing his luggage.

"I will see you soon, I promise," Yuta says, moving away with his luggage. You nodded, waving to him. 

Yuta walked into the departure hall, remembering every single moment he had with you in the last 14 days. He had wished you were there the last 13 years, and he could never tell you all the hard times he had been through. Just as he caught the last glimpse of you, he remembered what he wrote on the lock, and promised himself never to break it.

To y/n who taught me what love and friendship was, you are irreplaceable and nothing in the world could keep me away from you. When I'm done with the important things I have to do in Osaka, I will return for you, and for you only. I loved you for as long as I can remember, and it will stay like this. I promise.

[atlantisresource]

Atlantis Injuries List

Here is a repost of both the S1 and S2 lists.  Tumblr removed the originals because “there might be adult content.”  It’s a family show, quit deleting all the fandom resources!!  Anyway, I apologize if anything got accidentally missed while putting this back together.  Feel free to poke me.

LONG POST!!! (we’re looking at you, Jason, sheesh)

Injuries - Season One 

Ariadne:

1x01: hit in the face

1x05: drugged unconscious

Medusa:

1x02: sliced hand (to save Hercules)

1x06: possibly enchanted by the song of the sirens when Hercules attempted to put her under a love spell (since it was actually a trap, we don't know that it worked - Medusa's feelings may have been her own - but Hercules is still an arsehole)

1x06: cursed by Circe (Hercules' fault)

1x09: cursed by opening Pandora's box (also Hercules' fault)

Pythagoras:

1x01: fell and hit his head

1x06: clawed on arm

1x09: fell from balcony, then knocked out (long enough for a fire to spread through the house, be put out, and then for Jason and Hercules to be declared dead and hauled away)

1x09: sliced hand (he needed blood to wake Jason and Hercules)

1x12: drugged unconscious

1x12: drugged to sleep (again)

Hercules:

1x02: hand bitten

1x06: shoulder injured while wrestling (it looks like there's a cut when Pythagoras is tending to him, but there's clearly no cut directly after the fight - Pythagoras is also doctoring the opposite shoulder)

1x06: turned into a pig by Circe

1x08: injured back due to being thrown against a rock wall

1x09: knocked unconscious

1x09: knocked unconscious again

1x09: drank poison that "will slow your heart until only the faintest traces of life remain“ in order to enter Hades (you threaten a man’s life to get information, he gives you a vial of poison while going “yes, here’s how you get to Hades” and refers to you and Jason as “the bodies” - and you actually drink it?!  WTF is wrong with you?!)  

1x09: whacked and tossed against a rock wall (but I don’t know if this counts, because he wasn’t physically there)

1x09: smoke inhalation

1x09: buried (I’m calling this an injury because who knows how long he was without oxygen)

1x12: drugged to sleep

Jason:

"stabbed through the arm there in the third week" - this is actually Jack’s scar, gotten during filming

1x01: woke up on the beach (meaning passed out while in the water)

1x01: shot with arrow (caused the scar on Jason’s upper, left arm in every episode)

1x02: struck on back of head/neck, momentarily dazed

1x03: voodoo-dolled by Pasiphae

1x06: magically burned by Circe

1x07: kneed in the stomach by Hercules (might have gotten the crotch a bit also)

1x07: tossed around by Hercules and Pythagoras to train him for the Pankration

1x07: kneed in stomach again and separated shoulder

1x07: separated shoulder fixed by Hercules

1x07: “feverish”

1x07: smacked around in the arena, injured shoulder was targeted

1x07: smacked around in the arena again - Heptarian went for his injured shoulder also and added yet another blow to the stomach, then went for the other shoulder and punched him in the face

1x08: punched in the face

1x09: drank poison that "will slow your heart until only the faintest traces of life remain“ in order to enter Hades (you threaten a man’s life to get information, he gives you a vial of poison while going “yes, here’s how you get to Hades” and refers to you and Hercules as “the bodies” - and you actually drink it?!  WTF is wrong with you?!) 

1x09: smoke inhalation

1x09: buried (I’m calling this an injury because who knows how long he was without oxygen)

1x10: axe, sword, or knife wound (knife assumed, although there was no blood on it, but Jason definitely stabbed somebody with it, so the lack of blood means nothing) - healed by Atalanta

1x11: cursed into being a Kynikoi (oh, who are we kidding, I’m just gonna say it: werewolf)

1x11: knocked out

1x11: bitten and tossed against a wall

1x11: drank silver to cure the curse

1x12: arrow again (the amount of blood on the arrow goes from rather serious to “OMG, how is he not dead?!” between shots)

1x12: grazed by spear (even though it looks like it misses him by a good couple inches - serious enough to require bandaging)

1x13: scratched arm (bonus points for continuity since this must be the wound from the previous episode, however I’m taking those points away again because this is clearly not the same mark)

1x13: knocked unconscious by blow to the head

Injuries - Season Two

Pythagoras:

Seems to have managed a full season streak (see post: somebody explain this).  However, if we counted emotional pain, all the acting awards to Robert Emms, because damn.

Medusa:

2x09: cursed again

2x09: fuck it, I refuse - nothing else happened to Medusa; she went to live on a farm in the country with lots of space to run around and other Gorgons to play with

Medea:

2x04: fell down a cliff with a rock-slide (knocked out for a bit, but basically just walked it off)

2x06: knocked out, wrist cut

2x12: grabbed by throat, possibly choked a bit

Ariadne:

2x05: fell and got a cut on her arm

2x05: stabbed by Medea (we learn in 2x06 that the blade was enchanted)

2x06: knife wound from previous episode still bleeding

2x07: hand sliced

2x09: held prisoner by Pasiphae and tortured by Medea (using magic and a voodoo doll)

Hercules:

2x02: punched by Cyclops and smacks into stone wall

2x02: injured arm during the battle

2x06: clawed by a frickin' pterodactyl (after being bit by a mosquito)

2x08: hit in back of head by jug then sword hilt (unknown if he was knocked out by the second blow - the first was part of a staged fight, although unplanned)

2x09: drugged to sleep

2x10: punched by Jason

2x10: sliced with sword by Jason (wound was tended to by Pythagoras)

2x12: cut when Pasiphae’s men attacked the temple (this is the only time I’ve ever seen an “it’s nothing” that was never mentioned again - I thought “it’s nothing” in tv land was code for “I’m going to collapse in the next scene”)

Pasiphae:

2x04: shot with an arrow by Ariadne (being able to just yank those suckers out must run in the family)

2x06: strangled with a chain

2x12: poisoned with the nectar of the passion flower to neutralize her powers

2x12: sliced hand

2x12: knocked out from blow to the head - and stays out a long enough to carry her to the camp

2x12: forced to drink more poison

2x12: stabbed to death

2x12: dropped (this happened while she was dead, but a fall like that had to do some damage)

2x12: most likely got burned while being brought back to life (injured while being healed, what irony)

Jason:

2x01: seizure (from drinking the Oracle’s vision-inducing kool-aid)

2x01: yet another arrow (I hate to break it to you, Jason, but with the amount of blood on that arrow, you are dead)

2x02: "You fainted; the fall reopened your wound." (and he was out long enough for them to drag him from the river into the forest and make a fire)

2x03: sliced with spear

2x04: not certain if a sword got him or he was just smacked around with shields (but Ariadne felt the need to tend to his wound - and I might have to give huge continuity points to the writers here if this mystery injury is actually a shield hit to his spear wound from last episode)

2x04: fell down a cliff with a rock-slide (knocked out for a bit, but basically just walked it off)

2x05: broken leg (wait, you were unscathed in the epic cliff fall, but being knocked down broke your leg?!) - healed by Medea

2x06: knocked out

2x07: hand sliced (they say “blood sacrifice” and you’re all “okay sure” ... is there anything you don’t just go along with anymore, Jason?) 

2x07: knocked out (by men sent by Pasiphae in an elaborate scheme to kidnap the Oracle, get Medusa to kill her, frame Jason, and cause Jason to be sentenced to death with the help of Melas who’s only a traitor because they’ve also kidnapped Cassandra -- good thing they decided to stick with that plan instead of just killing him while he was unconscious on the floor - seriously, do none of the bad guys ever hit people with the other end of their swords?  YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO USE THE POINTY END, GUYS!)

2x07: hit in the face

2x08: this is the only ep in season 2 that he makes it through uninjured - however, I thought it worthy of note that he’s imprisoned and sentenced to be slowly burned to death as a traitor, so it's not like his luck has changed

2x09: heart blackened by learning the truth about Pasiphae being his mother - I’m not sure how this works, but it does seem to have been mind-altering, so it goes on the list (although frankly I’m calling it good old regular trauma from slicing off the head of a dear friend... in order to kill his own mother - I mean damn, that would fuck anybody up)

2x10: stabbed with sword (magically healed, at least partially, by Medea)

2x11: wound from previous episode is still bleeding (so it wasn’t fully healed by Medea’s magic)

2x11: presumably beaten up by Pasiphae’s men when captured, has multiple cuts

2x11: sliced in the arena 

2x11: sand tossed in his eyes in the arena

2x11: kicked around in the arena

(my personal opinion is this is self-harm with a bit of a death-wish after killing Medusa - it seems he let himself be captured and he doesn’t really fight back until it’s Diocles’ life at risk)

2x11: drank poison in order to appear dead (dammit, Jason, what is this, the forth time you’ve trustingly gulped down poison?)

2x11: shoved and smacks into a rock

2x12: whacked with a sword hilt (they never did learn to use the pointy end)

[niall-is-my-dream]

Power Over Me - Part Two

Thanks to @heart-attack-harry and @lizziespidiepridie for your help.

Catch up on part one below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/188083232033/power-over-me

"I wanna be king in your story I wanna know who you are I want your heart to beat for me Oh I"

3k words

Your eyes were struggling to open up this morning. Puffy from crying like a loser last night over a guy who is clearly an arsehole. Reliving the whole thing in your head had you pulling the covers up and hiding beneath them, wanting to hide away for the rest of your Sunday. 

But you knew you shouldn't.

Dragging yourself from your bed you managed to navigate your way to the bathroom, running the tap and splashing your face with warm water. Patting your face dry, you looked in the mirror above the sink and saw your face. 

You looked a right state. 

You needed paracetamol, a coffee and a two week vacation somewhere hot.

Preferably by yourself where you could wallow in your own self pity.

Sadly you'd have to make do with your sofa.

After making yourself a coffee and some toast you sat your bum on the sofa, turning on the tv and browsing the channels, you found some housey type programme. You know the ones where they want the cafe culture life in London but on a shoestring budget, then complain it's a two bed flat rather than a 3 bed house they'd dreamed off.

Well those twats can fuck off you thought as you switched the channels to an old episode of Friends. The One With The Prom Video, great. Basically the one where after years of lusting over Rachel, Ross finally wins her over by his sweet antics from when they were teenagers. 

A nice happy ending.

Well that can fuck off to.

You turned it off in the end, choosing to sit in silence and eat.

Your phone was on the coffee table with your bag and keys, exactly where you had left it last night when you'd got in. It had been ringing constantly on your journey home and the taxi driver had even commented about you not answering it.

After a quick text to Deo as promised to tell him you were home safe, you'd turned it off and left it. 

Now it was slowly torturing you.

A sucker for punishment, you moved to turn it on. The screen lit up and showed you how many missed calls, texts and voice messages you had.

A reply from Deo telling you to sleep well and to text him if you wanted to talk.

You didn't.

A couple from your friends who you'd been out with, asking you what was going on and that they hoped you were safely home.

And 23 messages from Niall.

13 missed calls. 

And 5 voice messages.

You didn't bother to read them and you hastily deleted them all without reading them. Same with the voice messages. Delete.

You didn't feel any better after doing it, the coffee and toast slathered in butter hadn't even helped how you were feeling. It wasn't a hangover or troubled night sleep that was causing you pain. 

It was your heart.

You were shamefully heartbroken at what had happened. Shameful because you had vowed since Lewis Burns broke up with you in Year Ten that you would never ever let a guy hurt you like that again. Granted you had been 15 at the time but it was a value that ten years later you still tried to follow.

Your heart felt heavy and it both scared you and annoyed you.

You just need some time to cool off and get over him.

Letting out a huge sigh you gathered up your plate and mug and took them to the kitchen. Opening up Spotify, you put some tunes on and started tidying up your flat. Washing up, making your bed, putting a load of washing in, it was all a distraction. A much needed one and it was working. When it was all done you grabbed your book and headed for a bath.

Throughout your day your phone beeped with messages, when you saw Niall's name you just deleted them. But as the afternoon went on, you opened up his contact and blocked him. Tears had followed and you ended up going to bed at 9pm. Your Sunday had turned out to be a quiet and lonely one, but something that was very much needed. 

Turning off your alarm the next day, you couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. But you had a meeting at 9am and another at 11am, and you had some prep to do.

The mornings routine was basically just going through the motions. You still felt like absolute shite, the heavy feeling in your heart hadn't even remotely subsided. After taking a hot shower you dressed and ate a quick breakfast, not even bothering to put the radio on like you normally did. Good luck to anyone who came in contact with you today.

The tube as usual was busy and you were squashed in amongst all the other commuters. By the time you'd arrived at your station your mood was getting worse. It hit its peak when you walked into your building and saw bimbo bambi on the front desk. She had a stupid smirk on her face that was definitely aimed at you as you walked past her. 

Luckily she had been on the phone and hadn't been able to speak to you. You were in no mood to be dealing with her high pitched squeaky voice this morning. How in the hell she had got the job as receptionist at the Recruitment Agency you worked at you will never know. You got the impression she couldn't even spell her own name. Which was Nina by the way. Bimbo bambi was just a nasty, horrible nickname that you and Annie from the second floor had come up with. Bullying wasn't something you condoned, but she didn't know that was her nickname and so she couldn't be offended if she didn't even know it. You were always polite to her and smiled nicely whenever she interacted with you. But she was definitely not a friend of yours and would never be one.

The reason behind her smirk became apparent when you saw the huge bouquet of flowers on your desk when you walked into your office.

Pausing in the doorway, you didn't want to go over to them. A few faces of your colleagues were smiling at you. Jack the office playboy was the first to speak, asking you who your new fella was. Choosing to ignore him, you walked to your desk dumping down your bag and looking at the arrangement.

The bouquet was beautiful, a mixture of light pink and cream flowers. A sealed note was attached to the cellophane wrap. Looking around as you opened it, a simple message was written.

Please can we talk x

Shoving the card in your bag, you didn't have time to even think about it now. You had a meeting with a company about helping them with recruitment in exactly 28 minutes. A large coffee was needed and you needed to gather all your prep together.

Dwelling on the card and over thinking about it would have to wait.

********

Your 9am meeting went well and you were back at your desk finishing the prep for the next one when your work phone rang. Seeing it was the reception office you let out a frustrated sigh before putting on your most polite voice.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth, You have a visitor?" Nina said.

"Oh they're early." You replied looking at your watch and seeing 10:35am.

"No, it's not your next appointment."

Your heart sank.

Please no.

"You didn't tell me you were friends with Niall Horan?!" She whispered excitedly down the phone.

"Well it never came up in conversation." You replied quickly. "Please tell him I'm super busy and that I have a meeting at 11."

"Oh ok, will do." She replied, and you hung up before she could answer any further.

You were fuming, first the flowers then turning up at your work. Did he think that was the way to get you to listen? Well he was sadly mistaken.

Running your fingers across your temples you willed the anger to go away. You still had work to do. You'd managed to distract yourself this morning with the potential business that your meetings could secure. Letting him get into your head was not needed right now.

Breathing out a massive sigh, you looked up at your computer to continue answering some emails. That's when you saw him. 

Strolling through your floor coming for your office, attracting the attention of every single person. His casual attire of dark jeans and blue t-shirt being the biggest factor.

Fuck he looked so good.

His face was unreadable, something that was strange to you considering you'd known him 6 years. You had always been able to read him. 

But not today.

You stood up from your desk as he strolled into your office, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Niall...."

"Why haven't you answered my messages?" He asked you bluntly.

"Because I didn't want to." You replied in the same manner.

"You've not even read them, and the last ones I've tried to send you bounced back. Have you blocked me?!"

"Yes, and yet you still didn't get the hint." You said as you gestured towards the flowers.

"I just...... " He began but you cut him off.

"Look Niall, I can't do this right now. I have a meeting in 15 minutes to get ready for. To be honest I don't even want to have this conversation with you at all."

You were being rude now, desperate to save face. Your heart was pounding in your chest, it ached to reach over and touch him, but you held back when you remembered Saturday night. His cocky behaviour had infuriated you, but his lost looking face right now was making you feel guilty. But only for a split second before you remembered how hurt you were, how embarrassed and ashamed you'd felt.

Holding back the tears was becoming harder and you really needed him to leave before he saw how broken you were. The tough exterior you were trying to show him was crumbling.

"So, you don't even want to talk to me about what happened?" He asked you his voice calm.

"No."

This was a lie, well sort of. You did want answers from him but not now. You weren't ready.

He shook his head and started to look annoyed which infuriated you even more. He had no right coming into your office, surely the ignoring his calls and messages was enough of a hint for him, but apparently not.

You'd have to have a word with Nina in a subtle way to get her to actually listen to you when you need someone to go away.

"This isn't over." He said as he left.

"It never started." You replied.

**********

The second meeting had been ok, luckily it was a meeting with a client already on your books, because your mind had been elsewhere. 

Niall strolling into your office was not something that you had even been remotely prepared for. Seeing him had effecting you far more than you had thought. It was a silly crush and you needed to get over it.

It would be easy, he travelled a lot and he had a lot of friends. You were sure you could dodge seeing him, you'd probably lay low for a few weeks and avoid the dreaded conversation with your mutual friends.

Willie's voice asking Niall what the hell he had done to you, was still stuck in your head, he had messaged you today asking if you were ok. Willie had taken on the big brother role in the group and as one of the youngest you had been happy to have him care and support you. Deo had sort of become the annoying brother, but he had shown his caring side to when he helped you in a taxi on Saturday night. Neither had pushed you to talk and you appreciated it.

As you had got into the office early that morning you decided to head off at 5. Your head was still pounding and after taking some painkillers you tidied away your desk and grabbed your bag.

Nina was sitting at her desk on reception when you went past.

"I'm heading off now Nina so if anyone calls they will need to leave a message." You informed her.

"Got dinner with a certain someone?!" She replied with a wink.

God she was annoying.

"Not that it's any of your business but no."

"Oh it's just he's been outside in his car for the last half an hour."

"What?"

"Niall Horan." She said continuing to smirk.

"Spreading gossip isn't tolerated here. And not following orders from me when I ask not to be disturbed while I'm prepping for an important meeting is also a problem."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know, but Niall is my friend and he's incredibly private. Please don't start making something out of nothing." You replied, defending him. He might have pissed you off, but you couldn't help but be protective.

"I am really sorry, I wouldn't spread gossip I promise. And I'll follow your orders about visitors from now on." She replied looking absolutely petrified of you.

"Thankyou, I'll see you in the morning." You said.

She mumbled a nervous goodbye as you left the building. You spied his car out the corner of your eye, what was he thinking hanging around waiting for you?

Walking quickly in the opposite direction towards the tube station, you hoped he hadn't spotted you.  

But of course he fucking had.

He called out your name, but you headed down the street winding in between the crowds. You knew he wouldn't follow you, wouldn't risk being seen chasing a woman down the street. In today's world, cameras were in your pockets and footage could be uploaded online for everyone to see in seconds.

He definitely wouldn't do that.

You reached the tube station, swiping your oyster card you made your way through the station to your platform, breathing a sigh of relief at having avoided him again.

The walk back from the station wasn't long and you called into little Tesco Express to get a microwave meal and a bottle of wine. You definitely couldn't be bothered to cook tonight. It when you were approaching your building that you saw his car in the car park.

Fuck.

You managed to avoid him and sneak around the back. There were two entrances to your block, accessing the way through the gate and the shared garden, you let yourself in hopeful that he hadn't seen you.

But it didn't matter, he hadn't been waiting in his car. He was waiting at your door.

Your heart sank.

After a rollercoaster day of emotions and a heavy workload you could cry just at the sight of him. You didn't have anymore fight in you to argue and you knew you'd crumble. 

The sight of him leaning against your door, knocked the breath out of you. His face looking straight ahead, the sound of you walking up the steps caused him to turn.

His face once again had that annoyed look, and you couldn't believe the cheek of it. How dare he look annoyed after how he had behaved.

Walking up to your door, he didn't move. Your eyes met his and the annoyed look was gone, replaced by one that was pleading with you. He knew you'd ask him to leave and he would fight you until you agreed to hear him out.

Moving closer to him, you were just inches away as you raised your right hand above his shoulder and put your key in the lock.

"Please talk to me. Let me explain." He whispered.

Your body betrayed you as your eyes filled with tears.

Turning the key, you unlocked the door and moved sideways to get around him. He was right behind you, walking into your flat as you were taking the key out the lock. Strolling in like it was perfectly ok to do after everything that had happened.

Shutting the door, not acknowledging him you put your shopping bag on the side. Carefully taking out your meal and your wine. You could sense him at the doorway as you took off your coat and sorted out your bag.

"Are you going to let me explain?" He asked his voice calm and low.

"Doesn't look like I have any choice does it?!" You scoffed aware that he could probably hear the way you were choked up.

"Why are you being like this?" He asked you.

"Like what Niall? An arsehole? Not nice is it?" You replied allowing your face to be seen, no longer hiding behind your long hair.

His eyes widened when he saw your face and upon hearing your words.

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter."

"It does matter. I'm not good at this."

"Good at what exactly?"

"Talking about this sort of stuff."

"Then why are you here, why have you been messaging me, coming to my office and waiting outside my work? I specifically told you I didn't want to talk to you. Did you not listen or are you just trying to humiliate me even more?"

Silence.

You couldn't even look at him, choosing to walk past him and out to the hall, hanging your coat up on the hook on the wall.

"I think you should go." You said, eyes brimming with tears. You knew he was right behind you and you couldn't bare to turn around and face him.

"Not until you've let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain, it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. Done. Now you can go."

"Elizabeth."

"No, I can't deal with you right now. Please just go." You begged.

"I didn't mean to leave that night, I don't know why I left you to wake up alone."

You moved towards the door, opening it, unable to bare being near him. His scent was invading your senses and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Let me know when you figure out why you did." You said and he moved towards you.

Your eyes couldn't meet his as he looked at you before walking out the door.

Part Three

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/188384634468/power-over-me-part-three

[epithet-headcanoned]

Oh! Alright then hmmm Platonic Giovanni and Molly headcanons please then? I apologize for not being as specific earlier >.

*audible gasps* you meant... platonic Giovanni and Molly angst... like a family fight...

*puts on waiter outfit* I’m sorry your majesty right this way to your table

Platonic!Giovanni and Molly with Angst

It all started when Giovanni, Molly and her friends were hanging out at a public pool. Giovanni offered to drive them since Molly wanted to go and had no one else to take her and Molly agreed that she would try not to get her friends to bother Giovanni if he just wanted to relax all day or get a tan. It seemed like a win win.

Giovanni put on some black sunglasses and layed down on a long, plastic pool chair while Molly, Trixie and Phoenica were sliding down the slides, landing in the pool, climbing out and going to wait in line again. Trixie suggested that they should take pictures of themselves when they were coming out and Phoenica agreed since they actually didn’t have that many photos of themselves hanging out together, even as a group. Molly brought up the point that “I wish we could, but they don’t let you get stuff from the lockers unless you’re leaving” since all of their phones were in there. Phoenica hinted that maybe they should ask Giovanni for his since he’s the only one who has it on him and it can still TECHNICALLY take pictures, even if it’s a flip phone.

Molly was iffy about the idea since they’re at a pool after all... and obviously one of them can just drop it in and there it goes... but both of her friends promised that they could be trusted and they would take good care of it + they’re not that clumsy to begin with so molly reluctantly agreed.

Molly went to to ask Giovanni and he handed her his phone with a “hm? Oh yeah sure.” Molly gave him a small chuckle and a soft “thanks” before taking it over to her friends. Trixie immediately grabbed the phone from her and started pressing buttons to get to where the camera option was at, which took all of them a good three minutes to figure out. Afterwards they snapped a good 50 photos coming out the slide, Molly taking a photo of phoenica underwater, trixie attempting a canonball, at least 15 photos of Phoenica holding the camera the wrong way, etc.

However whenever Phoenica noticed this, she tried looking for a “delete” option. Phoenica asked Molly if she knew anything about how to work the phone when Trixie said “ooh let me see, I can probably figure it out” and quickly swung the phone in front of her, pressing away at the buttons. Molly’s nerves quickly kicked in as she tried to gently take the phone away so that no one drops it, but trixie wouldn’t give it up as she said she’s “almost got it” Phoenica tried holding Trixie back gently as Molly tried one more time to get the phone, until both of them let go at once... The phone ended up hitting the giant plastic slide that they were all sliding down on just a few minutes prior, and fell into the pool.

All three girls went into absolute panic until Trixie decided to swim over and get the phone out of the pool, Phoenica rushed to get a towel and Molly went to Giovanni to tell him what happened. Giovanni wasn’t even close to warming up when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He lifted his sunglasses to see a very scared Molly and before he could even ponder why she was so scared, she let out a “um, Giovanni? Your phone accidentally fell in the water and- well it didn’t really fall it-“

Giovanni couldn’t even think to hear the rest when he shot up with a loud “WHAT?” He raced to where Trixie and Phoenica were sitting on the concrete and hunched his back to look down at the small, certainly-never-able-to-work-again flip phone wrapped in a towel. He creased his eyebrows and put a hand to his temple, rubbing it furiously. He didn’t want to take anything out on Molly’s friends since he knew how embarrassing and awkward it could be, so when Trixie and Phoenica tried to apologize and admit that it was all their fault he accepted them quietly with “It’s fine. We should probably get going soon anyway, the pool’s about to close.” The girls seemed a bit confused by his last statement, but followed him to the locker room anyway.

While Trixie and Phoenica were getting their stuff from their locker, Molly tried to confront Giovanni again about the whole situation and give him the full story in case he was still upset but when she walked up to him to speak, he walked right past her. No grunts, no hm’s, he just walked past her in silence. Molly felt a small pang as he did but decided to keep quiet until they get home, clearly he was still upset but maybe the pool locker room wasn’t the best place to explain this.

After the long, almost completely quiet car ride back to Molly’s toy store, Trixie and Phoenica thanked Giovanni for the ride as they both walked down the street to their neighborhood that they insisted was close by. Once both girls were out of sight, Giovanni got up from a small couch in the back to leave when Molly stopped him. “Giovanni... I know you’re still upset but can you please hear me out...” He turned around to face her and saw that she was looking down, twiddling her fingers. She piped up again “I just wanted you to know that I didn’t know this would happen, none of us wanted it to a-“ Molly almost finished her sentence when Giovanni cut her off with a groan.

“Ugh, look I KNOW nobody did it on purpose, alright? Everyone’s so upset about it-“ he shrugged his shoulders, “whatever I guess. That’s probably what I get for trusting a bunch of stupid little girls with my phone.” The word stupid hung in the air, taunting Molly. It made a pebble form in her throat and her bottom lip tremble in sadness. She wanted to start crying so bad, but that would probably just make her come off as even more stupid to him, so she decided to swallow, give a slow blink so that no tears would form and speak. “My point is I’m really sorry about what happened and I’ll try to pay you back somehow,I promise. Deal?”

Giovanni rolled his eyes at the promise. Suddenly but unbeknownst to him, all his anger was creeping up on him and finding its was into his voice when he responded. “You can’t just ‘pay me back’ Molly. Do you even know how much those things cost? How much money I had to save up just to get some shitty, tiny brick that can’t even play music? Plus it’s not even just that, I had so many chats on their with my minions that are irreplaceable. We talked about future plans, we talked about everything and now it’s gone. So no you don’t have to pay me back, just stop trying to apologize so much. You didn’t even know what you were apologizing for.” With that note, Giovanni turned to leave and started walking towards the front door. Molly finally let the tears pour down when he wasn’t facing her, and started quietly sobbing to herself.. until she let out a loud, wobbling breath.

Giovanni turned around and caught her crying. When they made eye contact, Molly stood there alert... but less than a second later, walked over to the store register to begin her shift.

// Author’s note: Should I continue this? This is an extremely rough draft and the writing isn’t the best but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

[nochuuuenthusiast]

motherly

hello everyone,,, so like the obvious clutz that i am, i was trying to edit something from this scenario through my phone... well, one thing led to another and i accidentally deleted it. luckily, i save most of my scenarios on a google doc, and this one happened to be one of them... so, i’m so sorry that you’re seeing a reposted version of this scenario, and let’s pray that i never do this again

*requests are open for both dad!jk series or anything else you want to read (including requests from both prompt lists)

plot: dad!jungkook becomes a flustered mess when you breastfeed your daughter (*y/d/n) for the first time

genre: fluff (of course lmao,, nothing new here)

pairing: jungkook x reader (dad!jungkook, husband!jungkook)

warning(s): mentions of breasts; no curse words; rating: pg-13

word count: 744

“Jungkook! Be careful!” you whisper-yelled as you put more pressure on his muscular biceps as you gripped them tighter; no matter how much of a dad Jungkook already seemed, you were certain that he would never get the stereotypical “dad body.” 

“Don’t worry (y/n)... I won’t drop her, I promise..” he chuckled as he glanced over to you, knowing how paranoid and cautious you were when it came to (y/d/n)... even though it hadn’t even been three days since you’d first been introduced to her. 

You and Jungkook were parents to a newborn baby girl who radiated happiness and glee; you were both ecstatic to be new parents, but also very nervous... after all, you were now going to have to take on the responsibility of taking care of another living, breathing human being. Jungkook seemed to be a lot more relaxed in terms of parenting than you were... even after the birth, you were on edge about everything, not wanting anything to happen to (y/d/n). 

(y/d/n)’s birth was better than anything you had expected... and it was certainly the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced... your loved ones, including the other BTS members, were there to support you and Jungkook. Because your water had broken unexpectedly during the middle of the night, Jungkook was quick to call all your relatives and close friends so that they could accompany you at the hospital. And even while you were in labor, your husband was calm and assured you that all was going to be well. 

Still holding onto Jungkook’s arms, you entered the baby room (that Jungkook absolutely insisted on decorating himself) and sat on the big, wooden rocking chair, positioning yourself so that you were comfortable. Once you were situated, you held out your arms so that Jungkook could transfer (y/d/n) from his arms into yours. 

Within seconds your precious baby girl was in your arms, sleeping soundly while you rocked her back and forth gently. Jungkook smiled as he saw the pure delight in your eyes when you stared at your daughter.

“Okay, the nurse said that she needs to be fed about an hour after we arrived home so...” 

You looked up at Jungkook who seemed to stare back at you, clearly unaware of what you were implying. 

“So...?” he asked back.

“Are you fine with staying here? You don’t feel uncomfortable, right?” 

“Why would I feel uncomfortable while you feed our daughter?” 

Giggling from your husband’s current lack of intuition, you decided to give him a hint... since it was evident that he didn’t understand what you were implying. 

Slowly pulling down the V-neck of your shirt until it revealed your breasts, you looked up to see the sight of a flustered Jungkook, who now understood what you had been talking about this entire time. His cheeks were now a red-pink hue and he was not making direct eye contact with you anymore. Although you and Jungkook had seen each other naked several times before, something about the suddenness of this situation clearly caught your husband off guard. 

Still blushing, Jungkook remained silent and watched as you followed everything the nurse had taught you about breastfeding (y/d/n). As (y/d/n) finished her first breastfed meal, you looked up at Jungkook again to see if he was still a flustered mess, but you were surprised to see that his once-shocked face had transformed into one full of joy. He stared into your eyes and it wasn’t long until he leaned in to kiss your temple and your forehead. 

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” you laughed as you pulled your shirt back up.

“No, I didn’t... you shocked me,” he smiled, staring straight into your gleaming eyes. “But what doesn’t shock me is how good of a mom you are.” 

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard by Jungkook’s comment; and this time, your cheeks were the ones that were turning red. 

“Thank you for already being the best mother to our daughter, (y/n). I’ve always known that you were the one I wanted to start a family with... and I’m glad that it finally happened.” 

Your cheeks were even redder from Jungkook’s endearing words, and when you looked up at him again, with tears pooling near the corners of your eyes, he swooped down to give you another kiss. 

“I love you (y/n).”

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets : Chapter Six

Family Dont End With Blood, or Does it?

A/N: reposting cause the other one got deleted somehow :(

Summary: Lured to a house and trapped with a woman calling herself Allanah, you cry out to Dean for help, not realizing that he could hear you let alone goes on a hunt to find you. Meanwhile, Allanah forces you to watch some very painful memories.

Warnings: SPN style violence, mentions of character death from show, angst

W/C: 3.6k

Previous Chapter

"Stop calling me that! I am not your family!" 

"Oh, sweetheart," Allanah focuses her empty eyes onto yours. "I'm all you have. You haven't any family left, they're all dead." 

When you weaken your gaze, Allanah smiles, "mercilessly, I must add. Do you remember when you found out about Rufus' death? And how painstakingly brutal it was for you to hear of Bobby's?" She pauses to look at your shaking hands, "oh, and you have to remember when Jolie died, and the part you had in it?"

 With a wave of her hand, Allanah sends you back in time. Standing in the petrifying cold, you see a past version of yourself and Jolie in the near distance. You want to warn them, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. In an attempt to run towards them, you send your torso towards the ground. You wiggle your legs in an effort to walk forward and realize you’re stuck, as if you’re cemented into the ground.

"Jolie, this is big," you hear from your past self, as tears slip down her cheek. "There are too many of them. We have to go back, to get other hunters. We need help!"

"Are you crazy?" Jolie steps closer to the past you. "They've killed too many of us. I have to do this," she looks to the ground, then at the door of the warehouse. "For my son," she says looking back up at Past you. "They could move at any moment, which means that we may never find them again. This is our only chance!" 

Past you grab's Jolie by the shoulders, "you don't get it, do you? Do you want to be another hunter killed by them? Because that's what is going to happen if we go in there without backup." 

Jolie's voice softens, a tear falls from her eyes, "as long as I take some down with me, I don't care." 

"Listen to yourself! Please! I'm begging you. We will find another way!" 

She shakes her head, "this is the only way." The metallic clink sound feels like a jab to your heart as Jolie rips out her machete and runs for the door. 

Your soul merges with your past self, trapping you in a body you hardly even recognize anymore and forces you to watch from the eyes of your former self. Replaying as a third dimensional memory rather than a moment, the body runs after Jolie just in time to see her in the tight grasp of a vampire. 

"Oh, look here. She brought desert," he snickers. 

"Let her go," you shout. 

"Or what?" he laughs, tightening the grip around Jolie's neck. 

"Just go, before it's too late for you," Jolie whimpers. The vampire lowers his head to her neck, sinking his teeth into her throat. Jolie's scream echos inside of the warehouse as her blood trickles down her body. 

You try to run towards her, but trip, falling to the ground and  screaming instead. When you look up, you're completely void of emotion and stand slowly.

“Come on, darling. I don't bite," he laughs. The group of girls behind him giggle as he takes steps towards you. "Two hunters delivered straight to our door, girls. Can you believe it?" He turns his shoulder slightly the face them, then back at you, "this has got to be the most exciting day in quite a while."

"Enjoy it, cause it's your last," you frown, falling numb from the anger as it heats your entire body.

The warehouse shakes with the laughter of the nest. "Seriously? Did you learn nothing from your friend here?"

"I don't care if I live or die anymore. I'd say that makes anyone pretty damn dangerous." Glaring in his direction, you stop fighting the anger and let it take complete control of the body. It beams out of you in a light. You feel a new sense of confidence.

Marching straight for him, you’re immune to his attempts to keep you away and wrap your hand around his neck in a tight grip.

His eyes widen as his hands fly up onto your wrist, while the others swarm to his side. With a wave of your hand, they’re blasted to the ground, dead.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I can't bring back your friend, but I-" he peeks at the bodies. "Oh God, I - I can do anything you want," his glossy eyes look back at yours.

"Afraid it's a little late for that." You begin squeezing his neck, softly yet fiercely, building up more strength. The more you think of Jolie, the angrier you become, thus the tighter your grip gets. With an inhuman strength, that grip becomes deadly, ripping his head from his body in a bloody explosion.

It takes you only a moment to realize the mess you’d just caused, but when you do you look down at the blood covering you and around at the nest you’d taken out single handed.

You catch your breath and run back to Jolie, falling to your knees beside her. “I’m so sorry, Jo,” you wail, dropping your head onto her bloody chest.

Against his better judgment, Dean let's Sam drive in an effort to catch some much needed rest. He'd only been out for no longer than an hour before your voice becomes too loud to push away.

Dean... I can't.. "God, Blue. I hear you!"

Sam flinches at the sudden outburst and shifts slightly in his seat, "the bar owner called, he was pretty shaken up. He said Tim came in, was acting different... 'evil'. He said he swore that, for a second, Tim's eyes went black."

"Sounds like we've got a demon on our hands," Dean rubs his eyes.

Sam nods, "and I talked to Garth, he looked into her phone records and guess who was the last to hear from her?"

"Demon boy." Sam nods again. "Is that where we're heading now?" Dean yawns.

Sam clears his throat, inspecting Dean from the corner of his eye, "yep. Uh, it should be coming up." He pulls the car behind a fence, turning the headlights off before rolling to a full stop. "But if you're not feeling up to this-"

"I'm fine," Dean pushes himself out of the seat and to the trunk.

"Seriously, Dean," Sam follows closely behind. "You're sweating. You haven't slept, or - or eaten in two days, and you - your eyes are freakin' red, dude. If it were me you'd have me handcuffed me to the steering wheel by now."

"Good thing I'm the one with the handcuffs then, huh?" Dean smirks, stuffing weapons, salt and holy water into the bag.

Sam shakes his head with a quiet scoff, looking around the neighborhood before taking a step closer to Dean, "I'm serious."

"So am I, Sam." He drops the bag and turns to face him, "I know you're only doing this 'cause you care or whatever, but the only way you're keeping me from gutting that son of a bitch is if you kill me," he yells, pointing behind him at the house. Taking a deep breath, "look man, I can't explain it. This isn't just hearing her thoughts, or-" he pauses, looking at the trees behind his brother.

"Or what?" After a length of silence, he shifts in front of Dean and repeats himself, "or what, Dean?"

Focusing back on Sam, he sighs and lowers his voice into a harsh whisper, "I know everything about her.” The muscled in his face tighten, “everything she knows about herself, anyway. She’s been through just as much as we have, I’d not more and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna do something about it. Pain or not.”

Dean throws the bag onto his back and walks towards the house. Crouching on their way in, they spit Tim on the couch. Sam wraps an arm around his neck, the inside of his elbow just below his chin with the other hand holding a knife to his jaw. Coming from the shadows and pointing a gun, Dean grumbles, "get up."

As you come out of your past self, you feel your soul rip out of the body. You watch the image of your old self leaning on Jolie's chest getting smaller and smaller until it disappears completely and you are knelt on the floor by Allanah's feet, still crying.

She leans down to your level. "Please, I cant do this anymore," you can barely make out the words through your tears."

"That's when you realized you were more powerful than you thought, remember?" Allanah grips your arm and yanks you to your feet, "isn't that the real reason you gave up hunting? The guilt got to you, didn't it? If only you'd have known you could do that before she-"

"I could have saved her!" Your voice cracks as you yell.

"Oh, honey. You couldn't. The power only manifested in that way because of what happened," she laughs. "Now, you want to know about your parents? Your real parents or whatever." She twists her arms into her hip, "your father died practically the same way as 'papa' - on a hunt." She withholds any and all sympathy, practically singing now, "and oh, wouldn't you know. He was accompanied by Daddy Winchester himself."

Your eyes, full of wrath, dart up at Allanah, and begin to tighten with your fists. "That's right. Azazeal may have started it," Allanah holds her hand to her mouth, snickering. "But John certainly finished it." She belts out a cackle and places her finger to her temple, her thumb facing the ceiling for form a hand gun, mimicking a shot. "Boom!"

—

Dean finishes a devils trap around the chair they've strapped Tim to and throws the can of spray paint into the kitchen. He ambled to the front of the chair, crossing his arms, "where is she?"

"Who?" Tim wiggles around in the rope.

Dean leans in, "you know damn well who I'm talking about."

"You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Tim laughs.

He winds back his arm and slams his fist against Tim's cheek, forcing his head in the opposite direction. "Tell me where she is. Now!"

Tim keeps his head to the side, but slowly turns his black eyes to glare at Dean. He brings his head back around, pointing his hand back around, pointing his nose in the air. "And why would I do that?"

"Might make this a lot less painful for you." Dean feels the enmity consuming him, yours and his, but rather than pushing it away like he normally does, he accepts it. The echo of Tim's laughter infuriates him further, he winds his arm back to punch him again.

Dean? Can you hear me? Please, I can't...

Dean fumbles back, grabbing his head with both hands.

"Ol' boys not feeling so hot, huh?" Tim snickers, "that's too bad."

"Shut up," Sam cuts in, putting his hands on Dean's back to guide him to a chair. "Now, I was thinking to myself; why would a demon choose to stay topside?" He paced around the chair, "what would a demon even need with a house?"

"I like my own space," Tim licks his lips, squirming in the chair.

"I would believe that," Sam walks to the front of Tim. "I'd if weren't for a friend of ours that did some research." He pulls out his phone to reveal a picture of the demon sharing a kiss with Mrs. Mill, "what would Crowley have to say about this? You being intimate with a former captive?"

"Oh, he knows. Who do you think got me this place?" He laughs.

Sam shrugs casually, flipping through the photos to show me of Mrs. Mill tied to a chair, duck tape over her mouth.

"What have you done to her? Where is she?" He rattles the chair, "let me go!"

Sam leans down to firmly set his hands on the arm rests, "you first."

Tim groans, "I was paid off by Crowley to lure you three to town, get you together."

Dean clumps over, holding a hand to his head. "Why?"

"I don't know." Tim tilts his head, "I'm just a grunt, I do what I'm told."

~

"You had a sister too, you know," Allanah turns her back to you and tilts her head to the side. "But, well, when the Winchester's did what they do best, they used her as a getaway."

Allanah giggles just slightly, rotated around and adds, "her and your mother, actually. Your poor sister was bleeding from her center, trying to hold her spilling guts in one hand," Allanah mocks the action with a fake pout, "and a rigged in the other. Your mother, oh Ellen, she just couldn't bare to leave Jo's side as I hear it, bless her heart." She places her palms to her cheeks and purses her lips before beginning to leisurely pace, "and they both died in that explosion."

Tears almost too hot to touch stroll down your cheeks. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course I know what I'm talking about," she scoffs, reaching up to grab your cheeks and impartially wipe away the tears. "I created you, after all. I know everything there is to know about you and everyone around you."

She stands herself up straight and continues on with a softer tone, "now, when you add all of this tragedy together, what's your common denominator?" She pauses, "that's right. The Winchester's. Their selfishness has caused the death of everyone who's ever loved you and some you never got the chance to love in return. And I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty personal to me."

Allanah leans slightly on brush the sweat soaked strand of hair from your face. "Let us destroy them forever they-" Allanah mumbles the ending of her sentence as the sound of an engine rumbles outside, "ah, just in time." She leans into you, her breath heating your cheek. "Remember what they've done to you, to your family, Y/N. Do you really want to be another victim to their charades? Do you want to die at the hands of the Winchester's vain attempts to 'save the world'?"

Dean gasps as the two slam their way through the door, catching themselves with a few steps.

"The decision is yours, baby," she smiles wryly, pointing a finger to herself, "do you want to be powerful? Have it all?" She shoves a finger in their direction without breaking eye contact from you, "or be a pawn in their game, only to end up dead at the hands of whatever plot they scheme up?" Smirking, she snaps her fingers and disappears from the room.

You narrow your eyes at Dean, advancing towards him with your dagger in hand. "Whatever she's said to you, don't listen to it," he persuaded with his palms facing you.

"I called out for you!" you scream, keeping a fist around the dagger but bringing it to your side.

"Why do you think I'm here, Blue? I heard you."

You laugh to yourself. The silver lining of these events is a rebirth. "My name is Y/N."

Dean keeps his hands in the air and takes a few steps closer, "Y/N, okay, great. Let's go."

"Is it true?" you cry out.

Dean cramps his face, "is what true?"

"My family. Every single one of them, down to my birth parents... dead, because of you or your jerk of a father. The Winchester name is a curse that I refuse to be associated with."

"Sam, what is she talking about?"

"You're the one that can read her mind, you tell me."

You draw the knife up to your palm, tapping it lightly against your fingers as you count, "I'm talking about Bobby and Rufus. My mother, Ellen and the sister I never got to meet."

"Hold on. Jo is your sister?" Dean frowns as his hands and eyes drop to face the floor.

"Was my sister. Before you used her as bait for your own sick agendas!"

"No, no, Bl- Y/N, it - it wasn't like that," Sam stutters, taking a single step towards you. "She - she sacrificed herself."

"Sacrificed? Do you hear yourself?" you scoff and bounce your head against the back of your neck, looking at the ceiling while your arms fall limp at your sides.

"I know how it sounds, believe me, but it's true," he adds with a near brutal tone. "We were up against the devil himself. A lot was at stake."

"So you mean to tell me that he's gone, then right? The devil?"

"Yes," Sam smiles. "We got him. As far as we know, he's in the cage - in hell."

"You for a lot of nerve coming at us like we didn't lose people important to us, too," Dean shouts waving his knife at you.

"People that you got to spend your life around! People that knew you for who you were and loved you for who you were. I will always be a monster because of where I came from, that won't change and you said it yourself."

"Y/N, we never knew our mother either."

"Sam," Dean interjects, void of any hope. "Don't start. She doesn't care."

"You're right. I don't. The way I see it you guys have it and had it. So you didn't know your mother, but you have each other. I could have grown up hunting with a sister," you take into account what your purpose is now, and readjust yourself. "Still, it doesn't change a thing. Dean, you hated me from the start. You hardly gave me a chance to speak, at least not without severe judgment." You take a step forward, "your problem was decided guilty until proven innocent when I was innocent to begin with. And you, Sam, I'm just disposable to you. Someone you can play nice to and pretend you care about me only to be used as bait in your next big trial. I'm not falling for that.

"No, that's-"

"Don't bring him into this," Dean flicks his blade at you with a shift in his eyebrows. "He's the one they wanted to help you in the first place. If it weren't for Sam, you'd be dead already. So you want a fight? Well, bring it on, bitch," he says, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his neck.

"Oh, Dean. You don't kiss your mom with that mouth do you?" You smile and lunge are him with your blade. He barely makes it out of the way while going after you with his own and an extended arm that you effortless grab onto and use to slam into a wall, knocking all of it's oddities on top of him.

He jerks back action with a thrust of the knife while Sam attempts to leap in to help. With only a palm facing him, and your eyes still on Dean, you exert all of your anger into a small ball of light and directing it at Sam, halting him to a stop. Unable to intervene, he grunts and tries to call out for Dean, who is now the subject of your suspension. You turn your head and look at Sam through peripheral.

"Grumpy's right, Sammy. This isn't about you. Not entirely," you focus back on Dean, releasing your mental grip on him. "You wanted a monster and now you've got one. One they you have no business messing with and I swear it on your grave I'll make you eat those words."

"I'd rather have some pie, but thanks for the offer." He drops his shoulder and shakes out the tension in his arm before trying to attack you with his blade again. As he gets closer he can hear you chanting something too choppy to make out any words.

Sam is the first to fall, and Dean, still battling the sudden onset of exhaustion, drops slowly to his knees. You gracefully drop to your own right in front of him to caress his face with your palm, "good night sugar. See you never," you sing before drawing back your hand to gently push him to the floor. Stepping over Sam, you hum a long forgotten tune as you make your way through the door and off the property entirely.

"I see you've chosen wisely," Allanah says with a smile wide enough to show her perfectly straight teeth as you stroll to her side. The two of you stand in front of a double wide copper door. "They're not to bother us again, and I assure that if they do-"

"I took care of it," you say with vengeance in your eyes and a light curl of the corner of your mouth.

"Wonderful!" Allanah gleams, guiding you through a ballroom where the family has been paired off into twos across the marble flooring. Over in the corner and dancing your way is a tall woman with dark brown hair that curls just below the stone necklace wrapped around her neck. She approaches you with an extended palm and a beaming smile.

"This is Edra," Allanah states with a hand resting on Edras nos crossed arms. "She still be mentoring you for the next few weeks."

She doesn't take her eyes off of you ask she speaks, and maintaining a warm smile says, "as my right hand she is among the most powerful and will be treated as such or you will regret it, understand?"

You take in a long, silent breath through your nose and only give a single nod.

"Good! I'll leave you to it then," she says with a forced smile and carefree shrug before skipping over to another pair of witches.

What have I gotten myself into?

Next Chapter

[robbyrobinson]

DDLC Fanfic: Just Aru

Mm...where am I? That’s funny, I thought that everything from the game was erased. Is this what dying feels like? It almost feels peaceful. 

Monika found herself floating in the  white void between worlds apparently being the only one who survived the deletion of the game. Her downward spiral was without end no visible grounding in sight. Alone, Monika couldn’t help but cry to herself for her plight.

“Is this really it for me?” she wept. “I guess I deserve it for what I’ve done.” 

“On the contrary my sweet girl!” a voice rang out. 

Monika’s eyes widened. “Huh? Who’s there?” 

Without warning, Monika stopped falling. Before she could fully comprehend what was transpiring, she fell into a chair and found herself in a room. “What is this?” 

“I’m glad you could make it.” 

Monika’s eyes darted around. “That voice again. Show yourself!” 

A bright, white light filled the room, blinding Monika. She heard another chair pull out, and someone getting seated. “Alright, you can open your eyes now.” 

Monika opened her eyes as the voice demanded her. She was taken aback at what she had seen. “S-Sayori?” 

The being before her resembled Sayori in appearance, but she wore an extravagant purple dress and had a golden leaf-headband. She possessed two large bird wings that were white as snow. “Well, not Sayori as you have called me, but I merely took the form of something that you were comfortable with, mostly since you were thinking about her when you were falling to oblivion.” 

Monika arched an eyebrow. “What are you usually?” 

The strange girl inhaled deeply and leaned in close to Monika’s face. Her face peeled back and black, inky tentacles laced with eyes erupted from every orifice of her face. 

“Okay! Okay!” Monika shrieked and covering her face. “Please, please just go back to Sayori’s form.” 

The girl resumed Sayori’s likeness. “Well, let’s get down to business then. Do you know where you’re going?” 

Monika laughed nervously. “Valhalla?” 

The coral pink-haired girl smiled devilishly. “TO HELL, FOOLISH MORTAL!!” 

Monika’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Her heart was beating. She clutched her chest. “Ooo...there it goes...heart palpitations.” 

“Just kidding, just kidding!” the girl insisted. “I’m actually going to give you the choice to reincarnate, or move on with your perpetual drop into the bottomless pit.”

Monika scratched her head. Reincarnation? That was actually a thing? Sure, she knew some religions in the real world had a doctrine about the human soul and how many times it could become reborn. But...wait...Monika’s just made of pixels. An AI so to speak. Then how could she have a soul that she could reincarnate with. She continued to ponder not noticing that the Sayori-looking girl had her hands arched in a similar fashion to her back in Act III. “Why are you giving me this chance?” 

“I know. For everything you’ve done in your VN, it is reprehensible, deserving only of an eternal punishment. But I had watched you save the Player when Sayori became mad with power, and you did try to atone for your actions. You sucked at it, but here I was just floating around in the void one day and I thought to myself: hey, it’s that girl from that romance sim thingie! Why the hell not?” 

Monika rubbed her temples. “Maybe falling for eternity is better?” she thought to herself. 

The girl seemed to comprehend what she was thinking and spoke up. “If it interests you, your friends have all been through here.” 

Monika’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Yes, indeed,” she said. “All of them have reincarnated into new forms, but they have no recollection of what you had done to them.” 

“Is that so? Name one.” 

The girl smiled. “That pink-haired one, for instance? She loved manga so much, so now she basically works as a manga artist. Just for the heck of it, I send Yuri to the same world Natsuki went to. She did protest a bit at my decision, but I really didn’t care. I mean I have all the time in the world since I am an ageless, perfect being.” 

Monika scoffed at the girl calling herself “perfect.” The girl glared at her compelling her to be quiet. 

“If you choose to reincarnate, know that the powers you had in your game will not exist in the world I send you to. You will be as normal as everyone else.” 

Monika frowned. “Normal?” Well, to be honest it was a burden having to deal with being self-aware. “Eh, I guess I can live without them.” 

“Excellent choice, Monika,” the girl said. She extended her hand to hers. “Shall we shake on it?” 

Monika reluctantly grabbed the girl’s hand and shook it. The ground opened up underneath Monika forcing her to try to hold onto the desk that had manifested. “Wait, what is going on?” 

The girl smiled and waved her hand. “You need to learn to put other people’s needs before your own; once you have learned compassion from this experiment, you can either choose to leave and restart again somewhere else, or you can stay.” 

With that, the strange girl disappeared and Monika fell into the hole. The white light appeared again being more strong than before. “I hope I won’t regret this decision” Monika thought to herself.

Buzz. Buzzzzz...

The rays of sunshine caressed Monika’s eyes forcing them open. “Mm..what the hell happened last night?” 

She rubbed a streak of dry drool from the side of her mouth and stretched her arms. Everything seemed to be back in order. Sure, there were a few alterations to her bedroom, but she still felt like the same old Monika. Yawning deeply, Monika began to walk towards the bathroom. Entering it, Monika approached the sink and ran some water in the sink. She scooped a handful of the cold water and splashed it on her face. After doing it two more times, she grabbed a bath towel and scrubbed her face with it. Satisfied, Monika pitched the towel into the heap and turned to head out of the bathroom. Before she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was startled.

In some ways she resembled herself, but her brown hair and green eyes were noticeably a different shade. “What? Did I get sent back to when I was a little girl?” 

Monika pulled back the front of her pajamas top. She grimaced. “My girls! They’re gone!” She felt down her legs becoming further alarmed. “What the hell happened to my thicness!? Should I look at my hoohoo next?” Monika swallowed nervously and pulled back her pants. The color in her face disappeared. “Am I...a loli now or whatever Natsuki is? Does this mean I have to go through the awkward stages of puberty again!?” Monika groaned. She did not want to go back to those times of wearing training bras and pimples. Growing up sucked royally. Before she could further have a mental panic, a feminine voice called out. 

“Aru, school’s about to start.”  

                      [CHAPTER TWO]

"Aru?" Monika thought. She tossed the name around in her mind letting it simmer. So that is the name she will be using in this world? Monika thought more about what this new world would entail, but she was stopped in her tracks by that feminine voice again. "I take it that this is my Mom?"

Aru looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand and nearly had a heart attack. "Ah, shit, I'm going to be late!"

Aru frantically slipped on her clothes and went to run down the stairs. "I don't know why I am in such a hurry like this. After all…"

Right on cue, Aru had neglected to notice that one of her black stockings was barely clinging onto her left foot becoming undone. As she was about to fully comprehend her situation, Aru fell down the flight of stairs and crashed on her face. "Son of a bitch…" Aru groaned internally.

There came the soft pitter patting of feet and before Aru knew it, her mother bent to her level and glared at her. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

(So that is this girl's "Mom?" Well I have to say something; I do not want to leave her hanging.)

"Yes, Mom," Aru said…she noticeably strained on the last word.

Her mother smiled. "That is good to hear. Made you some toast before you head out."

(Dammit, toast? That is one of the most generic anime tropes that I am sure even Natsuki would be annoyed with.)

"Thanks, Mom," Aru said.

Finishing up on breakfast, Aru collected her book bag and dashed towards the door. Her mother saw this with some urgency in her voice.

"Wait, Aru, your collar! -"

"Catch ya later!" was the only response Aru gave her mother. She walked down the pavement her sense of urgency diminishing. She found herself meeting up with a few students that she assumed were a part of her class. She struggled to give a response to them but, of course, her words escaped her.

(Okay, Monika, so far so good.)

The middle school was named Sakura Dai Ni. Aru stopped at the entrance and rubbed her chin contemplatively. "So, if everyone was so talkative with me, I kind of wonder if that means I have some highly important job."

Her teacher, Oshie Teruyo, looked at Aru in a bewildered daze. "You're the vice class president, Aru. Have you forgotten?"

(Are you kidding me? I couldn't even get class president!? This body suuuucks….)

"Right, I apologize, Sensei."

Oshie tilted her head. "Do you feel faint? Should I send for the nurse to check you?"

Aru shook her head. "I'm good. No need to worry."

Oshie was still concerned, but she nodded and returned to her desk in the front of the room. Aru went to her desk. Before class began, Aru noticed an odd thing. Across from her, she saw a dark brown-haired girl with pink eyes trying to speak to a girl with short blonde hair and amber eyes. She leaned forward in a feeble attempt of eavesdropping on the conversation.

(The blonde girl sounds upset for some reason. Wait, why do I care?)

First period ended and Aru nonchalantly chatted with some of her classmates. She had to admit that despite her conflicted thoughts, she was making the most out of her middle school life. As she walked, she noticed someone sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs.

(Hey, there's that pink-eyed girl again.)

The girl held some odd figurine in her hands. Aru stepped down a few stairs to get a closer look. Even then, she was still perplexed.

(Is that…some old man with fairy wings? What kind of world did that Sayori-looking girl teleport me to?)

"Kai-chan, I'm back to zero friends again," the girl told herself.

(This is depressing. Should I maybe see what the matter is?)

Aru sat beside the girl. "Hey there, what's going on?"

The pink-eyed girl jumped and inched away from Aru. Her breathing was becoming strained. From what Aru could see, just her being close to her was enough to make her feel nauseous."

"I-I…" the girl said.

(You know, she kind of reminds me a lot of Yuri. It was an absolute chore convincing her to join the Literature Club.)

"I had noticed you having some sort of discussion with whom I assume to be your friend," Aru answered slowly, "what happened?"

"My name is Bocchi," the pink-haired girl suddenly stammered. "I like my rice with Natto finely crushed."

(…Okay then.)

"My name is Aru. Here, please take this tissue to wipe your tears."

Bocchi did as she was told, but she also blew into it, sounding like some wild animal.

(Ew, how grody!)

"Thanks," Bocchi said.

"You're welcome," Aru said still disgusted slightly when being handed the tissue back. "Why not tell me from the beginning?"

Aru tentatively listened for a good period of time, but she could feel her patience slowly erode. Bocchi went on different, unrelated tangents to get to what happened between her and her friend. Aru tried to force a smile throughout even if it was slightly insufferable.

"I just wonder why Nako was mad at me."

(Oh my god! You literally just got finished saying that you admitted to her that you became friends with her because of a promise that you made to your childhood friend. Just how dense is this girl. Oh my god…)

"Well do not worry, your perfect vice class president is here to help!"

The two returned to the classroom where Bocchi approached Nako. Nako had her back turned to her almost not noticing that Bocchi was stumbling. Aru sighed to herself and made her leave to collect Bocchi's items.

"At…at first, I thought you were scary," Bocchi began, "but you're nice!"

(Wow, Bocchi can really be a hard case. But I want to protecc that smile at all costs.)

Getting Bocchi's belongings, Aru made her way back to the classroom. "Bocchi, you forgot…"

"I did speak to you because of my promise with Kai-chain," Bocchi stammered close to tears again, "but because of that promise, I have grown to…LOVE YOU, NAKO-CHAN!"

Nako and Aru's mouths both hung open. "Y-you idiot, people will get the wrong idea," Nako pointed out.

(Oh, so it was that kind of relationship. Well, I can dig it; after all, the player's gender did not matter to me that much.)

"I'm going to head out now. Sorry to intrude!"

Aru dashed off not noting that Nako was yelling after her. "Wait! You have the wrong idea!)

The day was nearing its end, and Aru prepared her things to head home. "Well, this wasn't as hard as I would have thought. And here I was thinking it would be more challenging."

Heading out of the school, Aru saw the two girls she had met earlier approach her. Bocchi was smiling brightly at her. This did bring a smile to Aru's face as well. "Oh, hey, guys."

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me with Nako," Bocchi remarked.

"Oh, no problem. Your perfect class representative is always here to help."

Nako squinted at her in curiosity. "What's that hanging at the back of your collar?"

Aru's eyebrow arched. "I beg your pardon?"

Sure enough, Aru turned her head and to her bewilderment, there was a clothes hanger. Aru desperately scrambled to hide it from the two girls. "Uh…no this is just for…uh…."

"Fashion?" Bocchi asked.

"Yes, yes, that's right; fashion!" Aru shouted whilst striking a pose.

(I can't believe that she fell for it; that was a close one.)

"That sounds really unfortunate," Nako remarks.

(What the hell did that little pipsqueak say to me?)

"Uh, it's just a family thing, you wouldn't understand."

"That still sounds very unfortunate."

Aru felt a nerve throb in her forehead. "Well, my Mom and I wear matching panties."

"Still unfortunate," Nako noted.

(That's it…DELETE!)

Aru strained, her cheeks becoming a deep shade of red. Sweat began to beat down from her forehead. Bocchi and Nako looked at each other perplexed. "What are you doing, Aru?" Bocchi asked.

(Oh, that's right…I can't delete anymore. Stupid Sayori fairy!)

"She looks constipated," Nako noted.

Embarrassed, Aru ran off compelling the two girls to run after her. They found her sitting on one of the bars of the monkey bar. "Oh, have you come to criticize me more?"

"No, that's not why we're here," Bocchi clarified.

"I've been nothing but unfortunate for as long as I could remember," Aru explained, "I even decided to take part in representing the class…but I'm just the vice class president."

"That is very unfortunate," Nako added.

Bocchi shook her head defiantly. "If it wasn't for you, I would have never made up with Nako."

"So, what are you saying?" Aru asked.

"I want you to be friends with us."

(Friends, huh? Well, I have nothing better to do, so why not?)

Aru nodded her head. Bocchi began to hyperventilate for some reason. "She said no, Nako!"

(How dense is this girl?)

"I said yes!"

Bocchi smiled again. "I'm so…happy…"

Aru turned around to see that Nako was holding Bocchi up by her arms. "She does this a lot."

(She does? Where's the medics if this is a recurring problem?)

"Anyway, can you help me with her?"

"Sure, Nako, I will. But first…"

Aru placed her bookbag on the ground making Nako confused. "I…have…"

Suddenly, Aru's eyes became bloodshot from the nerves lining them. She leaned backward on the heels of her feet and ricocheted forward like a missile being launched. Before Nako could figure out what she was doing, she collided with her side.

"A NAME!"

"Wow, so much pride for someone so unfortunate," Nako remarked.

"I said don't call me unfortunate!"

(Ha, that's what that bitch gets. I feel right at home now.)

(More to come)

[headoverjojo]

You were expecting a random post but it was IT, THE THIRD PRIZE OF THE CONTEST!! Yeah I’m, UH, like reeeeaally late and I’m super super sorry for this ç.ç This work had been studded with a series of unfortunate events, like firstly I lost the first draft I handwrote and I still don’t know where the hell it is -bet it will pop up tomorrow. Bet it.- I cried for two days and then stared at the ceiling for more than two weeks, then various things irl BUT! I finally managed to write something that satisfies me -and you know that I never publish something that I don’t deem worthy, I mean, maybe in the end it’s not but this is another story- and SO! @kidgoober, my dear, I apologize again for the delay and I want to thank you for your immense patience!! I hope that this would be worth of the waiting! 

It’s a comforting scenario with Giornoxfem!reader. I suggest to listen to “You are enough” by Sleeping at Last, before or after the reading -and the EP “Atlas: Oceans” always by Sleeping at Last during the reading-. Here we go! :3

You’re enough

(words count: 1695)

In all your past relationships and friendships you always seeked especially two things: respect and honesty. And in Giorno you found both of them.

People were always surprised by how similar you were, in your mature and careful behaviour. How you carefully studied others, in order to know how to behave. Sometimes, people who didn’t know you thought you were just a fake person, ignoring how you were almost brutally honest with each other and your friends. Your behaviour wasn’t a fake one, but more a self-defence system.

In Giorno you found someone who could understand you for real. He knew the struggle of keeping just for himself a reply, he knew how heavy and poisonous were the anger and frustration you had to keep inside, again and again, ‘cause you “were in no position to properly reply”. He was just wholeheartedly grateful that your parents never did to you what his stepfather did to him. You were the last person in the world to deserve this and, oh god, in case he would have liked to have a “talk” with your parents.

That’s why he always did his best to make you feel comfortable to talk with him about everything and to reply to him as you liked. With you he felt understood and at ease; he could, for once, lower his walls and not think about every reaction, every word and action. It was… freedom. And he wanted you to feel the same.

Together, you made so many steps forward. Together, you found that respect and honesty, deep and sincere, you both had searched for so long. You were not just partners, but also best friends, allies, supporters. Thanks to your developed ability to read others’ emotions, you both could tell immediately if the other was upset and act consequently. That was what happened also that day. The right moment you entered home, Giorno needed just a look to see you were deeply upset.

After quickly checking his mental agenda, he grimaced. Oh… you said that you wanted to go to see your parents, that day. Your relationship with them, well… wasn’t the best of the world, but, from what you’ve said, it had improved considerably in the last years. However, some issues were still ongoing and your face said that those issues had resurfaced, during your visit.

He didn’t ask you how you were feeling. He didn’t fake ignorance or a smile, acting as it was all fine. He got up, leaving back every paper, and walked straight to you, simply hugging you, tightly, safely. His fingers gently rubbed your scalp, as you sank in his embrace, sighing in relief. No matter how bad the day had been, Giorno’s hugs had the power to lighten at least a bit the weight on your heart… they tasted like home.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, kissing your temple. You sighed, closing your eyes, relishing a moment more in his warmth, before nodding. He led you to the couch, gently making you sit down, and then put on the stove some water for a good cup of tea.

After returning to you, he kissed your forehead, sitting near you and watching you with calm eyes, giving you the time to recollect your ideas. For long seconds just the soft noise of the boiling water kept breaking the silence in the room.

“My mother did it again.” you admitted, sighing. Giorno closed his eyes for a second. Of course…

“What did she say?” you huffed, fidgeting, before Giorno’s slender fingers came in the way, gently holding yours.

“The usual. She used me to rant about herself and inflate her ego. I had forgotten about one of my aunts’ birthday, not even one of my closest aunts, and I apologized for my bad memory. And she? She went on ranting about how forgetful I am, how instead she always had such a sharp mind when she was young… let’s say, how in general she was better than me in everything when she was my age.” you took a deep breath, after that long tirade, feeling empty. Giorno’s hands never left yours, not even for a second.

“And what do you think about what she said?” he asked, quietly. You shifted a bit, pouting, feeling at unease. What did you think about it…

“Well, maybe she was right. And, like, after that I told her to stop this, to inflate her ego using me to elevate herself and she seemed… hurt for real? And… and maybe I am the wrong one, not her, and that, well… maybe I’ll never be good enough to be at the same level as everyone else. Maybe I’m just too screwed up to be saved.” you muttered, bitterly. You heard Giorno shifting and immediately after you found his face in your vision range. His eyes were serious, as his expression, and it made him look older than his age.

“Don’t ever say it. You are enough, you are more than enough. Do you know how much they hurt you? And look at you. Look at how strong you are. Look at how gentle and sweet and wonderful you are. What you lived could have turned you into a monster, but it didn’t happen. Your will has been stronger and you emerged from that darkness. And even today you still work on yourself ‘cause you want to be a better person. I am so, so proud of you.” he said, with utter sincerity, gently stroking your cheeks. You blinked more times, to keep back few traitorous tears, before taking a deep breath. Enough…?

“But if I’m enough, if I’m… strong, as you said, then… why do I feel like this?- Giorno’s heart broke, hearing how lost your voice sounded. -Why do I feel so small, why her words always make me shrink down? It’s like… it’s like I’ve done not even one step forward. It’s like I’m still that scared child who learned to lie and read emotions in order not to be yelled at. I hadn’t grown.” you concluded, slumping on the back of the couch, your head low. It was so… you hadn’t grown. All those steps forward, all those progresses… all lost in a snap. What kind of progresses those had been, if they crumbled down at the first difficult? You wanted to cry, but your eyes were dry. Even they didn’t want to cooperate, it seemed…

“I have to disagree.” Giorno’s voice was strong and determined, as he gently picked your head up, his fingers under your chin, to stop you from lowering it again. His turquoise eyes stared into yours, firm, serious, but also so gentle, so understanding. He could understand at heart what you were feeling right now… You were similar, all in all. You both, under the shield you had to build to protect your heart, were scared of the world. But, oh… since the moment he met you, Giorno felt like the world wasn’t so scaring anymore. With you it was all better… and maybe it was worth to open up to the world. As long as he was with you, the world was a less scaring place.

“You’re just having a small setback. It’s normal, you’re still healing… there’s nothing bad in it. But this doesn’t delete anything good you have done in this period, it doesn’t delete your progresses. Even if now you feel small and not worthy… you aren’t. I can promise you, you absolutely aren’t unworthy and not enough. I know it hurts, now, that you don’t feel motivated to go on… but please, don’t let this stop you. You’re not alone, now… we’ll face it together, as we always did, ok? Those words will fade, as the pain they gave you. New, positive things will replace this pain. We’ll build new memories, together… we’ll build a happy life, as I promised you. It will be better, tesoro.” he gently pressed his forehead on yours, staring in your eyes. A faint, sincere smile colored his lips and soon was matched by one on yours. You couldn’t doubt Giorno, when he was speaking with such a heartbreaking sincerity. You placed your hands on his ones, softly stroking their back and relishing in their warmth, feeling protected, as even your self-doubt couldn’t do anything against Giorno’s light.

You sighed, feeling the weight on your heart lighter, at least a bit. All in all… if Giorno, the person who more than anyone else understood you at heart, thought that you could do it, that you were strong and worth enough to achieve the happiness you deserve, then… then maybe it was so. Giorno wouldn’t ever have lied to you, even if the truth he had to say was ugly and painful. He wasn’t the type. Everything he said to you was exactly what he thought. And, well… this meant that he really thought what was saying to you.

His words slowly sank in you, as small drops of light, slowly chasing away the dark gloominess that had darkened everything you were seeing. You were enough. You were worth it. You will have make through it. You were strong. And you weren’t alone.

“Thank you, Gio.” your smile was more confident, now, and it made Giorno’s heart flip in happiness. He smiled back at you, one of his rare but, oh, so beautiful full bright smiles, and softly kissed you.

“I’m proud of you.” he repeated, sweetly, before getting up and going to take off the stove the kettle.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” you smiled, turning to watch him, leaning on the back of the couch. A rush of affection ran into your veins, as you were watching his elegant profile, focused on the tea bags and hot water, his golden hair… your Giorno, who made so many steps forward, just as you. He was proud of you, but you were so, so proud of him too, of all the progresses he managed to do in that period.

“I’d love it.” you fondly smiled at him, waiting for him. He was right… together you could do it.

Together you were unstoppable.

[authentic-and-confused]

Just a little TED talk

Last school year in the spring my English teacher presented our class with a challenge:  Create a TED talk about something you’re passionate about. It seems easy, right? Well. For me, it wasn't. I knew immediately that I wanted to talk about the issues  LGBT  youth face, but I didn't know how. I’ve gotten so much hate for my orientation and identity that, even with the things I’m publically out and proud with, I live in constant fear of ridicule and hate. Let me tell you, this is no way to live. Eventually, though, I figured it out. Religion. I just knew my TED talk project had to involve religion.

At the time my mother was using religion against me in many ways and shaming me for my choices. I was facing a lot of subtle hates at school and I just knew I wasn't the only one. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that, at least with the kids my age, it was mostly because they simply didn't know! So just like that, I had my topic - my purpose. Educate the other youth of my school and motivate them to do better, and stand up against hate of all kinds.  

Don't get me wrong, I was still scared out of my mind. I’d been called out in that very class a few times for my  LGBT involvement, but somehow this desire, this need to make the world a better place for other  LGBT  youth took over, even if it was in the smallest way. The words to my script just... flowed out of me. I knew what I needed to say and how to say it. At first, I wasn't even planning on using my own experiences, but without them, the talk felt empty - like I was speaking from a detached point of view.

Soon enough, the day came to submit our talks via video, but for me that just... Didn't feel right. For some reason, I felt like my teacher needed to hear it in person. So I asked if instead, I could come present to her directly before school. She said yes, so two days later I did. I showed up to school early on the day of a funeral for the man who had appointed himself my grandpa the moment he found out the way one of my others treated me.

I literally gave my talk in funeral clothes.

by the end, my teacher was crying. The tears weren't just in her eyes the way some teachers get during certain presentations, but actually falling down her cheeks.

I hadn't realized how powerful my message could be yet, and had actually recently started to doubt it due to the reactions of a few strangers when I practiced giving it to my friends on a train. She said I should still make a video, post it to youtube or something. I considered it, really I did. but doubtful thoughts started to creep into my mind. Was it really a message people needed to hear? Was I the right one to give it?

I hit a really rough patch of my life, and I went to a really dark place. Most days I’m still there. Floating scared and lonely in the dark. I’d found out the world could be even darker than I’d ever thought possible and lost all hope of finding a light. The only reason I didn't end it all was that there were two people I knew it would crush. My best friend in the entire world who told me daily I wasn't allowed to leave them like that, and my significant other.

I have a story. I’ve considered writing about it, but it's dark and lonely. Full of pain no one ever had the courage to see. I finally came forward about it. Literally begged for help.  No one who could help listened.  No one listened could help.

”Where’s your proof?”

That’s the question they always ask.

That’s the question that always sends me back to the dark place.

So, I never felt the motivation to go forward with it. Get my talk out there into the world. I lost track of the light beside the glowing individual that, once in a while, was able to grab my hand and drag me to it like a horse to water. They still have to do that to be honest.

They’re there though. They haven't left. Haven't asked for proof. Took my words as enough.

They helped me find other people too, little lights in my life who I know are just as bright in the world, who I love dearly even if they don't break my darkness apart in the same way.

I don't really know why I’m going on like this. Like I said with the talk, sometimes the words just come and before I know it I’ve regurgitated pages of them. Often having to delete paragraphs and paragraphs, most of which I feel are just as important to my point. I did that here too. You probably can't tell.

Point is, yesterday I saw something that led me to a little trail of light. Gave me a little trickle of hope...

Graffiti in a bathroom stall.

It’s unclear what came first, or second or third or fourth even, but it is clear what the little conversation was. I took a picture of it, weird I know, but it really struck me. Someone at one point wrote something about “fags.” I’m not sure what, it's partially scribbled over. But around that? Several messages in different handwritings defending the  LGBT community. One of them stating, “Wow, Imagine still being homophobic in 2019,” another “You lookin like a clown.” Seeing these silly words marked into the stall I nearly cried. It gave me a light to hang to, weirdly enough, even if it only lasted until I once again reached home and thus my biggest tormentor.

Then, tonight, when I was looking at pictures on my phone, looking for a light to save me from the dark place for just a small while, I saw the picture. I scrolled through youtube and saw “In a heartbeat” recommended to watch again.

I was struck once again and felt a need to get my words out there too. To let someone, anyone, know that they aren't alone.

Give someone that trickle of light.

So, without further ado... the script to my TED talk: Man, I wish homophobia was a real thing…. Like, obviously the thing the word is used to represent is there - the blatant hate and discrimination towards the LGBT community - but phobia implies a fear. For example, the fear of heights  (acrophobia)  the fear of spiders (arachnophobia) or the fear of snakes (ophidiophobia). Can you imagine if people went around saying things like “blackphobia” and “womanphobia” instead of racist and sexist? Absolute chaos would ensue. People would have a meltdown. This is because, in this modern-day, people know that these things aren’t fear, they are an intolerance. So, by using the word “homophobia” it gives people the ability to rationalize their hate in the name of being afraid. as religions do.

This is what we, as the up and coming generation, need to change. We can help get rid of this hate and discrimination by referring to it as such. By calling it as it is - intolerance.

One extreme example of an organization that uses fear as a guise for their discrimination is the Westboro Baptist Church. They’re so hateful they’ve become somewhat of a joke to many in the LGBT community. *miles* Their website is literally “godhatesfags.com” and when any person dares to say this may be hateful, the church replies by simply saying “Gospel preaching is not hate.” Can you see where I’m going with this?

No, not every religion is as blatantly hateful as this one, their hate is often more subtle - at least to people it’s not directed towards. Living in Utah as an out pansexual teen I’ve been on the receiving end of this hate, even from some of my closest friends. And this isn’t their fault! They’ve been raised in such a way they don’t even realize they’re doing it. Most people are blissfully unaware of the ways LGBT youth are discriminated against every single day, so let me explain.

One of my best friends, who I will keep anonymous, said one of the most hateful things I’ve ever taken to heart just this last fall. We were skipping a church class and sitting outside when we somehow stumbled onto the topic of marriage. I mentioned that it didn’t seem fair that LGBT people couldn’t get married in the temple. Her response was “Well, I think it shouldn’t be allowed. Gay people are fine, but forcing us to allow them to marry in the temple takes away our freedom of religion.”

And, I guess that’s what everyone is so afraid of. Their rights and freedoms being taken away in exchange for ours. But as a wise person once said, “More rights for me doesn’t mean less rights for you! It’s not pie!”

I ask you to think real quickly - excuse my language - how many times has someone told you to “Burn in hell” or told you that if you don’t change your ways it’s unavoidable. I’ll give you a second to count. _______________. Now, you probably only used one hand right? 

I ran out of hands to count on within a week of coming out - and I only counted people, not the number of times. To this day I get told this phrase or some variation at least once a week.

Now, let me talk about school and bullying. I have a very specific story with this, but rest fully assured it’s not even close to being the only one, or the worst one. Just a couple weeks ago I was walking through the hall and got stopped by some kid I don’t even know, just so he could call me a “faggie.” I don’t know if you know the history of the word “fag,” but basically when the whole thing with witches trials was going on, people also burned LGBT people. However, they didn’t think them “worthy” to be burned on the stake, so they threw them in with the leftover broken sticks known as “fags.” So, as you can imagine, being called that is quite hurtful. I went right to one of my friends and explained what happened, and they misheard and thought I said the kid called me “fattie.” They immediately freaked and explained that I wasn’t fat, that the kid was stupid, etc. etc. When I explained that he had, in fact, insulted me for being gay and not for being fat her attitude completely changed. She basically shrugged me off and told me not to be dramatic.

That’s what everyone does, isn’t it? If it’s something we know a person shouldn’t be bullied for - like hair color, how fat or skinny they are, their acne - the bully is reprimanded. As they should be. But when a student goes to complain about bullying or exclusion over being gay or trans, adults often respond with “Well, have you tried…. Not being gay?” I was literally called an abomination in front of a teacher…. And they did nothing!

Now, if my stories alone don’t convince you that this is a real problem let me show you the facts of suicide. According to Utah Health Officials, quote “Among Utah youth aged 10-17 who died by suicide during 2011-2015 with circumstantial data...Of the 40 cases that included information on the decedent's sexual orientation, 15% were identified as sexual minorities.” Close quote. That isn’t even counting how many were closeted, or Trans.  Then besides that, this research on suicide and the causes is hard to conduct, because, simply put, the dead can’t speak for themselves.  “if the rate isn't zero we have work to do”

A study at the University of Georgia about a year ago showed that 70% of LGBT Mormons met the criteria for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yeah. From a church that supposedly promotes love. “we are inflicting trauma on out queer youth by asking and requiring them to go to church”

Now, to fix this problem, nothing huge or drastic even has to happen, at least for the first few steps. And I’m definitely not saying to stop believing in your church. religion is wonderful. I'm just asking you to follow a little less blindly. Like I said, we are the up and coming generation! We have the power to change the world in the palm of our hands! We often just don’t realize it because the people in power in this world tend to take all the control they can, and we just let them! So, let’s take it back. Let’s take that power and use it. Start by simply paying attention to what you say. Don’t rationalize something hateful that you say, either out loud or in your head, by using religion as your excuse. And, if you hear someone else saying something hateful, step in. Do you know how many lives could actually be saved if all of us just made an effort to watch our words?