#him not wearing his coat/not having the photo on him during the week leading up to the kids' bday

[nenoname]

can't get over the fact that the first time ford was separated from the stan o war photo in over 30 years was when he thought he was going to lose stan forever

[somethingvicked]

True love of mine part 6

An Eddie Munson story

Stranger Things AU (no Upside-Down)

warnings: female reader, angst, flexible timeline.

The songs used in this chapter belongs to the bands that has written and released them! I take no credit for it, I'm just borrowing them.

Chapter 5

Now

Eddie

The next day Eddie called his team into the meeting room at the studio, waiting for them all to sit down.

“I’ve written a new song. It will be a single, not for an album. And I want us to film a video for it too – ready to release in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” his team all but cried but he just nodded.

“The video in itself will be simple, nothing extravagant like fire effects or expensive props or anything like that. Just me playing a guitar and singing, the rest of the band around me.”

“Well… I suppose that’s possible then,” Greg said. “I just didn’t know we had plans on releasing new music at this time – the next album isn’t planned for another six months.”

“That’s why it won’t be included on an album,” Eddie said. “It will a release on its own. One single, one song, one time only.”

Because this wasn’t for his fans, or for his producers to make money of. This was for Y/N.

Y/N

It had been more than three weeks since you wrote Eddie your letter and by now you had started to give up the hope that there would be a reply in some way. It had been slim to begin with but hope was a persistent thing in the human nature.

But deep down you know it was stupid. To hold on to a love from fifteen years ago.

If the gossip magazines were to be believed Eddie hadn’t had a steady girlfriend in years but why would he? He was a rockstar, he could probably pick and choose between barely legal hotties every night if he wanted to.

Don’t think about that.

That’s why you had the shock of your life when switching between the channels lead you to MTV and a photo of Eddie filled the screen.

"Eddie 'The Master' Munson has released a new single," the TV reporter said, smiling, "and it has already made minds spin, trying to figure out who the girl he's singing about could be? Let's listen to it and see what you think! You can text the number below if you have any suggestions!”

The video was in muted colors, Eddie sitting on a stage on a stool, guitar in hand. A band of musicians surrounded him, but they were all in the background, Eddie was the focus. Then the song started, him standing up, strumming on the guitar as the song’s tempo increased and he started to sing into the microphone.

If you're traveling down to the Hawk's country fair

The winds hit heavy on the borderline

Remember me to one who lives there

She's the one true love of mine

You gasped. Hawk's country fair...?

He had to mean Hawkins, right?! And the country fair… was that a reference to the fair you two had gone to, when he won you the cat ring?!

If you're going down to snowflakes storm

Rivers freeze and summer ends

Please see if she has a coat so warm

To keep her from the howlin' winds

Tears blurred in your eyes when you remembered how you were always so cold during the winters because you were too vain to wear the winter coats your mom bought for you, thinking they made you look fat. No one ever said teenagers were smart.

And how Eddie used to take off his denim vest and place it over you, never once complaining about being cold himself.

Will you see for me if her hair hangs long?

Rolls and flows all down her breast

Will you see for me if her hair's hanging long?

That's the way I remember her best

Eddie had loved your hair. You’d kept it long ever since you were little, knowing that your hair was one of your best features; thick and shiny.

Eddie loved to play with it, braid little elf's braids into it or buy viking jewelry to put into the braids.

The only time he complained about it was when you were naked. “It hangs past your breasts and shield you from me completely,” he had pouted, making you giggle.

After Eddie had left you had cut your hair off and kept it short for almost fifteen years. It was just last year you had finally had let it grow out out longer than a short bob.

I'm  wonderin' if she remembers me at all

Many times I've often prayed

In the darkness of my night

In the brightness of my day

Now tears were streaming down your eyes. So this was his way in replying. You hadn't put a return address on the letter, not even thinking there was a chance he'd want to reply to you, even if you had hoped that somehow he would reach out to you.

And he did. This way.

If you're travelin' down to the Hawk's country fair

The winds hit heavy on the borderline

Remember me to one who lives there

She's the one true love of mine

She's the one true love of mine

She's the one true love of mine

She's the one true love of mine

She's the one true love of mine

Then

Hawkins, 1981.

Y/N

You honestly didn’t know what to do. It had been almost a month since the fair and you and Eddie had kissed. You had thought that finally you would take the step to become more than friends.

But the Monday after when Eddie picked you up from school he had acted like nothing had happened.

You had wanted to ask him why but deep down you were too scared about the answer. That it hadn’t meant anything to him, that you had overstepped a boundary.

That hurt.

When it had been a week of Eddie acting like the fair had never even happened you had started to distance yourself. You couldn’t take it.

You loved Eddie Munson but if he still saw you as just a friend… well, of course he couldn’t help how he felt, but neither could you. And you could only control your own actions and you decided that for now it hurt too much to be even close to Eddie.

That’s how you started hang out with Jonathan Byers instead. He was one year younger than you, but he was a nice guy, a loner, with a reputation for being a loser but when you two started talking in history you found that only the loner part was true – and only because he didn’t fit in with most cliques in high school.

You told him about Eddie and Jonathan said that he was an idiot but that he was certain Eddie was in love with you, he was just uncertain on how to navigate it. You didn’t believe him but it was nice of him to say it.

Eddie stared at you two when you passed him in the corridors but you refused to meet his eyes. He had made his choice, he had no reason to be angry.

It ended with you leaving the cat ring he had won you on the porch of his trailer, not wanting any more reminders of that night.

That evening it was Halloween and you took Jonathan with you to the Hideout, knowing that Corroded Coffin would probably play but the free drinks made up for it.

Jonathan didn’t had a costume and neither did you, even if you had put on a dress, for once.

Indeed, Eddie was there and when he saw you with Jonathan you swore you could see him gulp but you looked away again, once more repeating to yourself that Eddie had made his choice. He couldn’t fault you for yours.

Then suddenly Eddie got up on the stage, all but dragging the rest of the guys with him even though they weren’t scheduled on for another hour.

“I want to sing a song tonight. A song I dedicate to the most wonderful girl in the world. A girl I lost due to my own idiocy. But I need to let her know how I feel at least.”

Then they started playing. You gasped. It wasn’t Corroded Coffin’s usual vibe, it was a power ballad by Bon Jovi.

It had been released just the week before you and Eddie had gone to the fair, and you had listened to it so many times that you had worn out the cassette tape already.

Eddie started, his voice lower and huskier than usual:

This Romeo is bleeding

But you can't see his blood

It's nothing but some feelings

That this old dog kicked up

It's been raining since you left me

Now I'm drowning in the flood

You see, I've always been a fighter

But without you, I give up

You couldn’t believe it. Did he do this just because he was jealous of you and Jonathan? No, you had known Eddie for many years; he wasn’t one to play games. But why had he acted that way with you then?

Jonathan leaned in and whispered into your ear. “Told you. He’s clearly head over heels in love with you. My guess is he just didn’t know what to do after that kiss.”

That was true. After the Ferris wheel you had seen how late it was and you had to rush back to your house before you were grounded. You and Eddie hadn’t talked about what the kiss meant.

Did he think that you… that it didn’t mean anything to you? Is that why he had been like this?

Eddie took a deep breath and then sang from the bottom of his lungs, an expression of near agony on his face.

I can't sing a love song

Like the way it's meant to be

Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore

But baby, that's just me

And I will love you, baby, always

And I'll be there forever and a day, always

I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine

'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme

And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind

And I'll love you, always

Tears now rose in your eyes. He did love you. This… it was the most sincere (and beautiful) love declaration you could ever hope for.

Now your pictures that you left behind Are just memories of a different life Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry One that made you have to say goodbye What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair To touch your lips, to hold you near When you say your prayers, try to understand I've made mistakes, I'm just a man

When he holds you close, when he pulls you near When he says the words you've been needing to hear I wish I was him With these words of mine To say to you 'til the end of time

That I will love you baby, always And I'll be there forever and a day, always

Eddie looked at you, standing beside Jonathan and you could have sworn that a tear ran down his cheek.

What? Did he think that you had… that you and Jonathan were a couple? Did he really think that you could get over him so quickly and just…?

If you told me to cry for you, I could

If you told me to die for you, I would

Take a look at my face

There's no price I won't pay

To say these words to you

You walked closer to the stage, you couldn’t help it. Eddie was like a magnet to you.

Jonathan just stood back by the bar, sipping his soda and smiling.

Eddie’s gaze met yours as you walked closer. It was like everyone else in the bar had disappeared and it was just the two of you.

Well, there ain't no luck

In these loaded dice

But baby, if you give me just one more try

We can pack up our old dreams

And our old lives

We'll find a place where the sun still shines

And I will love you, baby, always

And I'll be there forever and a day, always

Your lips trembled when you nodded. There was no question about it. There was no one else for you and never had been. And from what this told you – Eddie felt exactly the same.

You two just needed to learn how to communicate better.

I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine 'Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme I know when I die, you'll be on my mind And I'll love you, always

Always, always

Eddie finished, took his guitar off and jumped down from the stage. You didn’t waste any time, you ran straight into his arms.

“Eddie…” you all but sobbed. “Jonathan and I are just friends – I could never want anyone else but you. I just thought… I thought the kiss didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Oh, kitten,” Eddie cooed, stroking your hair, “it meant everything, it was the best goddamn thing in my life, except for meeting you. I just… I got so nervous when you didn’t call the next day and then on Monday you didn’t say anything about it…”

“Neither did you,” you giggled, shaking your head at how silly you both had been.

“No, I suppose I didn’t,” Eddie said. “But I’m here now. And I’m telling you – I want you to be mine. I want to be your boyfriend. Do you want me, kitten? Always, like I just sang?”

You nodded. “Always, Eddie. Forever and a day.”

He took out the cat ring you had given him back earlier. “This is a promise, kitten. Until we do the real deal.”

taglist: @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @mewchiili @melodymunson @ches-86 @jenniquinn @eddiemunsonfuxks @stolen-in-moonlight @alastorssimp @pandemoniusstuff

(let me know if you want to be on the taglist!)

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

[noel0999]

my story - pt 2 - russia

i was born in tula, russia. i don’t know much about the start of my life other than what is documented in the adoption papers.

Within the adoption papers, there are different accounts of what happened those first few years.

basically, at some point within the first year (so it seems, based on the wording on the paperwork), i was left with a male friend while my bio mom went to mosco. after an unknown amount of time the male friend brought me to a neighboring apartment where he said that he was meeting my bio mom in mosco and they would be back in a week or two.

after a few months of them not showing up, the neighbor called the gestapo. they came and took me.

this is where the story kind of gets confusing. the timing of things doesnt seem to add up to me.it seems like there is a skip in the timeline of the paperwork. after the gestapo took me, i end up in a hospital with kidney failure.

while i was in the hospital, there was a family (we will call them family A) i met that was there getting a check up on a little boy they were adopting.

this hospital was falling apart. the doctors and nurses looked like they worked in a butcher shop because of the blood smearing their white coats, that were covering the winter coats they had to wear because of the lack of heat.

in the mitts of this grimy place, i caught the eye of family A previously mentioned.

They were white americans, who had a child by birth at home in michigan.

They were adopting a boy younger than me, a little red head. they asked about me, about my story. The poor little orphan girl with no one.

they were given information to look into, and to my understanding started asking about adopting me as well.

after about 3 months in the hospital, i was sent to an orphanage. this is still all in tula, to my understanding.

i was about 3 at this point. which is where my confusion of the timeline comes in. how did i get to be 3? Where was i during this time?

I have ideas, which will come up later.

while in the orphanage, family A was working with people in russia to figure out how to adopt me. there were issues because the russian system needed to either make contact with my bio mom, or rule that there is no contact available, and no family available to take me. they started reaching out to different ares asking about bio mom.

After not being able to locate or contact any living relatives, they put me up to be adoptable.

Shortly after this happened, a woman came to the orphanage claiming to be my bio mom. the orphanage said she needed a birth certificate for proof and sent her away.

she never returned.

while at the orphanage i had a friend. his name is in the paperwork somewhere, he ended up being adopted to a family in italy i believe.

i also remember faint things. almost like images. its hard to recognize that is actually real and what my brain has conjured up over time. some of those memories include a bare room with only a little corner of limited toys. cold 'oatmeal' type food for most meals.

i can see a room with many beds, day clothes lay at the end of the bed, if you had any.

everything was dirty. outside was grey and bland. i can picture the "court yard" of dead plants and bushes. a train track runs along the right side of the building. a little path running through the "court yard" leading to a little bench.

i have always had a strange memory of an older man sitting on that bench. id go and say hello and talk with him.

family A was active in sending me photos of them, and asking to have messages from their emails translated to me in russian.

after about a year of back and forth, family A got the go ahead for the adoption.

they came to russia, under instruction to not speak to anyone as americans were not liked at the time.

family A made friends and accountancies during their year of emailing back and forth. when they came to adopt me, they took me to visit some of the people that helped facilitate the adoption.

i have photos of these people, but have no memory of who they are. they seem sweet. they seemed to care for me, and i them.

family A also took me to mosco, going to a fish market, and seeing a play.

ill find out years later, while reading a journal that was kept during this time by family A, that while walking around and interacting with strangers, family A thought i was behaving like a child prostitute. In paperwork later contributed, it states that i would walk up to men sexually and 'present' myself. whatever that means.

family A then continues the quest and bring me to the state of michigan.

(there will be typing and punctuation errors, fyi)

#trauma #abuse #lifestory #adoption #russia #sharing #divorce #blog #healing #depression #anxiety

[sunlightbabe]

PROMPTS: Damiano x Reader x Thomas // “Adaptable, I like that.” // Stars Fluff, no warnings

You had been planning this for weeks now. It was that time of year where you would be able to see the Orionids, a meteor shower visible across the world as Earth passed through the debris left behind by Halley’s Comet. Anyone looking up at a clear night sky would be able to glimpse a few shooting stars. The whole thing lasted about a week or two, but you always thought there was something special about seeing the start of it, about seeing that first glimmering comet shoot across the night sky.

You were just sappy like that

“Okay, who has a free hand?” you ask, pulling yet another blanket from the backseat of the car. You turn to see your two boys standing there- Damiano, dressed in a cozy looking sweater and jeans, two pillows tucked under each arm, and Thomas, wearing a hoodie and pajama pants, arms filled with blankets.

Well, they weren’t your boys yet. But tonight was supposed to fix that.

For months, the three of you had been dancing around each other. You had seen the way Damiano’s eyes would trail after you, no matter what was going on in the room, and you noticed how Thomas would let his touches linger, how it was never just a quick hug. But you had also seen the way they had snuggled on the couch during movie night, how they leaned a little too close together when sharing notes on their upcoming songs.

It had taken a bottle (or two) of wine and a sudden rush of courage on your part, but here you were. Here you all were, on a date to see just how the three of you fit together and whether or not this was the perfect puzzle you believed it to be.

“I can help,” Thomas says, giving his fingers a wiggle. You toss him the blanket and he nearly falls over under the shocking weight of it, but Damiano is there to support him, careful not to drop any of the pillows he’s carrying.

“I didn’t realize you had brought your whole living room with you,” Damiano teases. “Are you sure you didn’t forget a cushion or two?”

“I wanted us to be comfortable!” you defend, grabbing the cooler before shutting the door. “You’ll thank me, you’ll see.”

Damiano simply hums and Thomas struggles to look around the mound of blankets in his arms to get a proper look at you. “You’ll lead the way, right? I can barely see my feet and we know what happened the last time we let Damiano lead the way.”

Damiano snorts and adjusts the pillows in his arms “We made it on time, didn’t we? We just had a little detour- and a great one too, might I add. You and Vic found that sexy fur coat you both share, no? Where is my thank you, hmm?”

“It is a pretty sexy coat,” you can’t help but add. Thomas hides his face against the blankets but you know he’s smiling, and you know he’s blushing. “But I’ll lead the way, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

Finding the clearing isn’t all that hard- you’ve been here a few times and just the other night, you made sure you would be able to find your way here in the dark. It’s slow going as the boys walk carefully, not wanting to drop anything they’re holding, unable to see the ground before them and any roots or rocks that might threaten to trip them up. But eventually, you are able to herd them into the perfect spot to see the meteor shower.

The grass here is tall, almost knee high in spots, and the clearing is large enough that when you stand in the middle, you can barely see the surrounding trees. Taking a blanket form Thomas, you start to build your spot for the night- by the time you’re done, the pile of blankets and pillows are artfully laid across the ground. You wish you had a proper camera to take a photo, it looks that good.

Thomas, of course, wastes no time and immediately flops down onto the nest you have built them as Damiano takes the cooler from you and starts digging through it, looking for the bottle of wine you had packed.

With your hands on your hips, you gaze around the clearing. A gentle breeze makes the grass sway and the silver light form the moon up above gives it an otherworldly feel. Everything is quiet. Your eyes drift shut and you can hear the whispers of the leaves in the trees, the soft clink of Damiano going through the cooler, Thomas pushing and fluffing the pillows. It’s perfect.

“Oi,” Damiano calls out, and you open your eyes. He’s settled on the edge of the blanket, bottle of wine between his knees, fingers peeling at the thin foil. Thomas is perched behind him, his chin resting on Damiano’s shoulders, his eyes focused on you. “You didn’t forget the corkscrew, did you?”

You might have, actually. You were in such a rush to grab everything else, to make sure you looked cute enough for your date. With a hum, you reach into your pocket and pull out your keys, gesturing for Damiano to hand you the bottle with your other hand.

Damiano hands it over and you crouch down, unsure if this is even going to work. You dig your key into the cork and carefully, like a surgeon in the operating room, you are somehow able to chip and pry and wiggle it free with a soft yet gratifying pop.

The boys clap quietly and you give a dramatic little bow before handing the bottle over to them.

Thomas takes it and takes a sip, straight from the bottle, before passing it off to Damiano. “Adaptable, I like that,” he says with a crooked little smirk. You simply bat your eyelashes and crawl over to them as Damiano finishes his lengthy swig, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth.

You really do fit like a puzzle. You settle in the blankets, laying down on your back, as your boys move around you. Damiano wiggles into your side, his head pressed against yours, one arm loosely held across your stomach, the other holding the bottle of wine. Thomas settles a bit lower, using your chest as a pillow, his arm falling just below Damiano’s. You’re sandwiched between the two of them and the extra blankets you brought for warmth stay at the edge of the blanket nest.

The bottle of wine is passed between you three. Every now and then, Damiano holds the bottle for you and Thomas and he’s careful not to pour too much at once or to let it spill all over you. Thomas’s fingers brush against your stomach, every now and then tapping a rhythm that you think might be the new song he’s working on.

Your hand tangles in Thomas’s hair, loose and gentle, while the other presses against Damiano where he lays beside you, warm and firm.

“Are we.. supposed to make a wish?” Thomas asks, sounding sleepy already. You blink sluggishly- you’re not drunk, but the wine has left you feeling warm and pleased. Pliant. You can’t imagine being anywhere else, anywhere that isn’t stuck between Damiano and Thomas. Your rock and your anchor. Your boys.

... okay, maybe you are a little buzzed.

“I would say yes,” Damiano says, nodding his head, loose strands of his hair brushing against the side of your face. “That’s how it works. You see a shooting star, you make a wish.”

“But does it matter which one? What if there are many shooting stars. Do you make just one wish and hope one of them grants it, or do you make many?”

You hum softly and drag your nails against Thomas’s scalp. “I think... I think it’s just one wish. And if there are more shooting stars in the sky, that means it’s just more guaranteed to come true. Like... like they power each other up, you know?”

Damiano makes an inquisitive noise. Thomas turns his head to kiss your collarbone, just a ghost of lips and a soft breath against your skin. A shiver crawls down your spine and Damiano pulls you a little closer as if to protect you from the chill of the night, as if that was the reason for it.

In the crystal clear sky above you, dotted with far more stars than you would ever see in the city, you see it. A single comet darting across the night sky, a long and wispy tail trailing behind it.

“Did you see that?” Thomas exclaims, raising a hand to point up at where the asteroid just was. As he does, two more shoot across the sky, then another, then another. Damiano giggles in delight and you can’t help but stare above you, eyes wide and hopeful as soon enough, the sky is painted with them.

It’s beautiful. And it’s quiet, save for Thomas’s excited little gasps and Damiano’s soft chuckles against your ears.

You don’t mean to say it- perhaps it’s the wine, perhaps it’s the magic of the shooting stars above you. Perhaps it’s the words that have been lingering on the tip of your tongue for months now.

“I love you.”

Thomas rests his head more firmly against you, fingers digging into your skin as he holds you close. Damiano turns his head and you can feel him kiss just beneath your ear, his nose brushing against your skin.

“We know,” he says, voice low, an audible smile on his lips. “Why do you think we’re here?”

“I hope you didn’t waste your meteor shower wish on that,” Thomas chimes in, nuzzling his face against your chest. “You could wish for anything, you know.”

And you do. And yet as you lay there, in the arms of both Damiano and Thomas, you can’t think of anything you would wish for. Not when you have everything you want right there in front of you.

TAG LIST: @maneskin-dimensione​

[mha-platonic-yanderes]

Settling In: Family Dinner

Inspired by @i-cant-sing

If there was any word to describe the past week, you would choose quiet.  A schedule was set for your time spent here and rarely it would deviate. Rei would wake you up to watch the sunrise with you and  you’d get ready for the day with her. The outfit she chooses always sits on the bed waiting for you while she does your hair. Mornings are spent in either the sun room or the library, with Rei always watching. Though, she leaves to cook. She always left you to cook. If nobody else was home, that means you’d be left alone. Fuyumi would come by for dinner some nights and take your afternoons. Enji wasn’t home during the day, but joined you all for dinner every night before you could retire to your new room. Even if the schedule is slightly smothering, it’s easy to keep up with.

There were no chores or responsibilities for you to do, unlike your old homes. It was relaxing—too relaxing. There was no stress, so you created some. Tonight, instead of Rei, Enji, and maybe Fuyumi, the other two Todoroki children were coming over. You don't know what to expect, so you stress over it.

Fuyumi warned you that they weren’t as accepting as she was, that they weren’t as involved with the family as she was. You don’t want to make a terrible first impression. You don’t want your new siblings to hate you.

Fuyumi comes home earlier than her siblings, coming immediately home from work. Meetings, she says, that’s why she couldn’t have come sooner. You remember that she’s a school teacher. It’s easy to imagine what those meetings are about. Though, she doesn’t give you time to daydream about her, as she’s asking you questions.

“So Y/N, you’ve been here a week? Have you been enjoying your time here?” Fuyumi does your hair, extremely careful not to hurt you. She’s taken this responsibility from Rei for today. Rei’s been busy at the store and in the kitchen all day, leaving you with Fuyumi. You don’t mind that; she’s nice.

“It’s quiet.” You don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but it’s the truth.

Fuyumi takes it well, “That’s good. Mom picked out some good books for you, did she?”

The library in the Todoroki estate may be massive, but most of those books Rei says are too mature for you. She’s regulated you to books below your reading level. They’re for children younger than you. But she doesn’t like to watch television and the laptop they’ve provided has only been gathering dust.

“If I’m honest, they’re a little boring.”

Fuyumi chuckles, “She’s a little out of touch from reality at times. I’ll grab you some books you’ll probably like better. I used to do a lot of reading when I was your age.”

“What’d you read?”

“Romance, mostly.” Fuyumi admits, “occasionally fantasy. I wasn’t trying to read anything too dark and neither should you.”

Too dark. Too mature. You wonder where that threshold is for them. You suspect it’s a lot higher than most people’s standards. You don’t dwell on this thought too much longer. Finding faults in your caretaker’s lifestyle isn’t the best way to stay in their good graces. 

“How was school this past year?” She rests both hands on your shoulders. She’s done with your hair, but she isn't letting you go. You could probably move her to get out, but there’s no need. Fuyumi is nice and interested in what you have to say. Why would you leave her?

“Alright.” You reply. Even if it isn’t the truth, you wouldn’t speak it, “Don’t know where I’m heading now, though. We’re too far from my old school.”

“Father mentioned Somei and Mom talked about homeschooling.” Fuyumi replies, “We’ll have to see which one concedes first.”

You can’t imagine Rei fighting Enji on anything, especially something as trivial as where to take you to school. Though, you’d prefer if she concedes. Homeschooling seems like a nightmare.

“Oh, alright.” You respond. There’s nothing else to say on the matter and you hope Fuyumi lets up soon because you don’t know what to talk about anymore. Almost like a savior, a knock is placed on your door. It isn’t as strong as Enji’s—Fuyumi and Rei don’t knock at all—so, you assume it’s one of the brothers.

Fuyumi calls out to the person on the other side for you, “Hold on!” She finally lets up to open the door. You fiddle with the edge of your dress. The tulle is a bit itchy, but the smooth, holographic hearts covering the entire dress provide a nice change of texture. 

You look up to see a tall, white haired guy. He’s broad, built like Enji as opposed to Rei. Though, the rest of his features seem to come from her. He stands in the doorway looking at you, then back at Fuyumi—who’s back to holding you on your shoulders again, causing you to continue to sit still in the vanity’s stool.

He takes another look at you and your fingers fiddle with the dress more. He’s unnerving and hasn’t said a thing he walked in. You start to speak, but he looks up at Fuyumi and asks, “What kind of quirk bullshit has justified this?”

That’s not what you expected. 

You think to object, no quirk stuff has happened here—at least, that you know of. Though, Fuyumi immediately comes to your defense, “Natsuo! You can’t just ask something like that! Have some respect.” 

“Do you really expect there isn’t an ulterior motive behind this.” Natsuo replies, “You know how he is with quirks.”

“He’s gotten better!”

“Prove it.”

“Uhhh, Natsuo, sir.” You break up the siblings' argument, “No quirk stuff has happened, really.”

He grabs a hold of your arm, looking at it thoroughly before heading to the next one. You don’t know what he’s looking for. Bruises? Burns? Scars? You have none of them from your time here. 

You wouldn’t have anything quirk related anyways—you’re quirkless.

“Is this the lie he’s told you to say?” Natsuo asks, “You aren’t going to be able to lie. I see through his bullshit.”

“Natsuo!”

You want this conversation to end. Natsuo’s and Fuyumi’s hands are both icy cold and you don’t like the attention. Plus their argument is painful to listen too, especially considering it’s about you.

“Natsuo, sir…” You say, “there’s no quirk… anything. Really! I don’t have a... quirk.”

He lets go of your arm and it drops to your side. He stands up again. Fuyumi lets your shoulders go, moving to your side.

“Hey, chin up kiddo!” Fuyumi replies, smiling her everbright smile, “there’s nothing wrong with that!”

You didn’t even realize you were staring at the ground, but your feet soon come into view through watery eyes. Fuyumi’s fingers wipe away the tear that slips through.

“Hey, sorry kid.” Natsuo’s hands are in the pocket of his jeans and his shoulders are raised, “I have the habit of assuming the worst.”

“It’s fine.” You reply, laughing through the soft tears, “I should be over it by now, anyways.”

“Let’s head out of here.” Fuyumi takes your hand, leading you out of your room, “Father should be bringing Sho home soon. He’ll just love you, he won't be able not to."

Despite the ominous nature of Fuyumi’s statement, you let yourself willingly be led to the living room. Besides, where else would you go, anyways?

___

Gratefully, the three of you leave your room. The room was getting tense between the sibling pair. You don’t want to be the reason they fight, do you? They always look so close in the photos on the wall—even if nobody looks happy in those photos.

Natsuo leads the way. He walks with his shoulders back and his head held high. He has confidence, something you’ve started to lack now that you’re around all these powerful quirk users. You feel the cool air radiating from in between him and Fuyumi. She walks right behind you. If you stopped, she’d crash right into her. 

But you don’t stop. You walk down the hallway and head towards the living room. There, two figures step in through the door. The first is the boy with half red hair, half white hair. The photos on the wall show him to be significantly younger and without the bright red scar covering one eye. He wears U.A.’s school uniform. One of the old children in your last home went there as well. The other person is Enji. He’s in his hero uniform still—flames and all.

Before anyone can say anything, Natsuo speaks up, “Father’s not using her. I already asked. She’s quirkless.”

He doesn’t say it in a negative way, but him bringing it up at all stings. You’re inadequate compared to them. They all scream of powerful quirks, but you don’t even have a quirk to begin with.

And now, you’re getting the suspicion that quirks are what this family truly cares about. Which leaves you in a terrible position—quirkless, surrounded by powerhouses.

“Alright.” Shoto deadpans, then slips his shoes and coat off. A cool wind blows in from outside, but it’s no different than standing between the cold Todoroki children.

Enji asks his sons, “Do you really think so low of me?”

“Yes.” Natsuo and Shoto reply instantly.

Luckily, Rei comes to your rescue, guiding you to a seat at the kitchen table. Whilst they talked, she set everyone’s plates wordlessly. She cooked this meal for everyone and you feel a slight pang of guilt, knowing that six mouths is a lot to cook for. You had smaller homes than that, which sometimes saw it too tiring to cook for their size. And Rei cooked a lot—much more than she’s cooked for the other meals you’ve had here. 

Your plate is filled. You can’t imagine that you’ll eat all of this, but you’ll eat as much as you can. You wouldn’t want to make Rei sad, now would you?

“Thank you Rei, for dinner.” You reply, before taking a bite. As you sigh in pleasure, Rei’s other children echo their thanks. The food is so good that you block out all sound in order to focus upon it.

“Y/N, are you there?” Fuyumi jokes from her seat beside you.

“Oh! Uh, yeah.” You exclaim, then ask, “Did you need something?”

“Father just asked how your day was.” Fuyumi replies.

You tell him, “It was good.” He sits at the head of the table, just like last time. You don’t sit next to him, Fuyumi does. You sit directly one seat to the left than the seat you’ve been sitting in. You don’t mind, especially because to the other side of you is the one brother you’ve barely heard speak: Shoto. 

He looks at you—he’s watching you. You can see him do it out of the corner of your eye. It’s unnerving to say the least. But you put your head down and continue eating, making sure to pay attention. Luckily, they don’t ask you too many questions. Most of the attention is on Shoto and Natsuo. They’ve returned home—the family all together, Rei calls it. You don’t ask about the other boy in the photos. He’s obviously not a part of the family anymore.

“May I be excused?” You ask as soon as you're finished eating, not keen to just sit there and listen to their conversations.

Enji doesn’t hold you back this time, giving you a silent nod. You take your plate to the kitchen and then head to your room, making sure not to bother them anymore. You don’t want to be seen as a bother anymore than you already are, do you?

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

*

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

*

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

*

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

*

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

[jalapeno-princess]

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was. 

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?” 

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so. 

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight. 

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state. 

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body. 

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even. 

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit. 

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands. 

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard. 

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.” 

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream. 

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports. 

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one. 

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable. 

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it. 

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water. 

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected. 

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex. 

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.” 

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you. 

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless. 

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock. 

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. 

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth. 

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.” 

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you. 

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake. 

“Mark!” 

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see. 

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix. 

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.” 

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it. 

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?” 

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks. 

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach. 

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?” 

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends. 

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.” 

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment. 

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?” 

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp. 

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one. 

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee. 

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling. 

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off. 

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved. 

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare. 

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming. 

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“ 

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?” 

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade. 

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore. 

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body. 

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you. 

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed. 

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs. 

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth. 

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.” 

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position. 

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired. 

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him. 

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?” 

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.” 

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself. 

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?” 

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page. 

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail. 

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.” 

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend. 

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“ 

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core. 

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

[exoticarmyofcrowns]

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie​ so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort.  “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

© exoticarmyofcrowns 2020

[hockeyisit]

Auston missing Amelia on the road 😩✨

Hi! So I asked from prompts awhile ago and then got really busy with school. I got this one finished and I loved writing it! I hope that this is what you were hoping for! Let me know if you have any feedback or if there are any other prompt requests. 

Word Count: 2,674

Unedited 

Opening up Snapchat I see that I have something from Auston and quickly tap it open. It’s a photo of him laying in bed shirtless hugging a pillow to his chest with a pout and tired eyes. No caption. I smile lightly before taking a screenshot. He was currently on a week-long road trip and we were only three days in. I missed him so much I didn't know how I was going to handle the rest of the week.

I double tapped so that I could respond and leaned against Felix as I took a picture of the two of us laying in bed. I captioned it Felix misses you, before hitting send. I watched as he opened it right away before a Facetime call came through.

“Hi babe,” he says once the call comes through. Felix picks his head up in search of Auston after hearing his voice.

“Aww Felix is looking for you,” I said flipping the camera to show him. Auston smiles gently through the phone as he hugs his pillow closer to him.

“I’m right here buddy,” he called through the phone. I smiled as Felix kept looking before giving up in defeat.

“Where’s your roomie?” I ask him. Auston tries to call me as much as he can when he's on the road but he doesn't really like to talk when other people are in the room. It was a feeling that I could deeply understand seeing as we were both pretty private people and he still made the time to call me so I never minded. It was pretty surprising to be getting a call from him so early in the morning though.

“He’s showering. I figured I would give you a call. I miss you,” he whined as he closed his eyes a blush appearing on his face. He then shoved his face into his pillow. I giggled as I rested my head on Felix's body, treating him like a pillow. He turned his head to me and gave me a look of annoyance but made no move to get up.

“I miss you too,” I said gently.

“I haven't done anything except stayed cooped up in this apartment with Felix besides our walks,” I continued as I looked around. He laughed lightly while he pulled away from his pillow with a big smile.

“What a smile,” I teased when I could finally see his whole face. He laughed again as a blush coated his face. I smiled feeling happy that I was able to make him look like that.

“What have you got planned today babe?” he asked. I heard the sound of a door open as Auston glanced away from the camera for a moment before returning his attention back.

“Steph texted me. Said she wants to meet at the dog park so that?” I said as I relaxed further into the comfortable bed. He gave me a small smile before sitting up in bed.

“Sounds fun,” he said as the camera started to become blurry due to his walking. Once he made it to the bathroom he shut the door and set his phone down on the counter.

“Are you stripping Aus?” I asked as I stared at the screen showing the ceiling. I heard him let out a light laugh as he picked up the camera.

“I gotta shower,” he said pointing to the shower that was out of frame.

“Wish I was there,” I pouted. A small frown came across his face before he replaced it with a sad smile.

“Me too baby,” he gently whispered brokenly. I felt my heartbreak at that. Auston very rarely called me baby. He mostly stuck to babe or my name and when it was something else it usually was a tell that something was going on. I had learned pretty early on in our relationship that baby was a keyword for I miss you. It was his way of expressing that he was feeling clingy, cared for, and missed me.

“I’ll be seeing you soon though and when you get home we can lock ourselves in here until you have to leave for hockey,” I said with a bright grin as I pulled myself into a sitting position.

“Deal,” he grinned holding his fist up. I held mine up and pretended to hit his against the phone.

“I should probably shower,” he hesitantly said. I gave him a small nod before waving.

“I love you, Aus. Have a good game tonight,” I said knowing that I wouldn't be able to talk to him more on the phone with how busy his schedule was going to be today. He gave me a small smile before bringing the phone closer. All I could see was his mouth and mustache.

“Bye baby. I love and miss you,” he said gently before puckering his lips at the camera. I laughed lightly before bringing my phone closer to my face.

----

“I just miss him so much,” I told Steph as the two of us sat on a bench at the dog park. She leaned toward me and put a hand over mine.

“I get it. Trust me I get it,” she laughed lightly. I laughed as well.

“I think he misses me,” I said with a small smile. She scoffed and picked up my hand and pointed to my ring.

“I’m sure your fiance misses you,” she teased. I blushed lightly while pulling my hand away. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket before pulling it out. I had received a snap from Auston. I quickly thumbed it open. It was a photo of him sitting on a couch with his legs spread a bit. The caption read, wish I was between your legs. I blushed tapping it quickly so Steph wouldn't see what it said.

“Oh my God! What??” she asked, tugging on my phone. I giggled while I tapped back to respond. We both posed and I snapped the photo before writing the caption, I’m with Steph!

“He’s been snapping me more on this road trip than he ever had before,” I admitted after a moment of silence.

“Like, we’ve always snapped, called, and texted but it wasn’t always a lot because he would be busy getting ready for the games or with someone. He’s private so he doesn't like to call when he's by people but this time it’s just been a lot more,” I trailed not knowing how to describe it. I loved Auston so much but when we first started dating and he would leave for a game he was very bad at communication. I always felt like I was missing him more. But this time I could tell that it was seriously affecting him. I knew that it did before but I was surprised by how much he was showing it.

“Maybe he’s just not afraid to show how much he misses you,” she said happily. I glanced around looking for Felix before glancing back at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s always been the one taking the lead in everything in your relationship. He’s been uncertain a lot during it. He said I love you first and you didn't say it right away. He proposed and you ran away. He asked you to move in. When he’s away how often do you call first or tell him you miss him?” she asked. I thought back for a moment and realized she was right. I never called or texted Auston first when he was away. It was mostly because I didn’t want to be a bother.

“Do you call Mitch a lot?” I asked, she laughed lightly before nodding her head.

“I call him all the time. Sometimes he doesn't answer because he’s busy but most of the time he'll answer for a minute or so and listen to whatever crazy thing I’ve come up with,” she answered while calling over for Zeus. I stood up and called for Felix.

----

Once I got home I unhooked Felix from his leash and he took off into the apartment. I pulled out my phone to see if I had any messages. I had a few from Steph telling me about some crazy thing she saw on her way home, one from Auston’s mom, and another snap from Auston. I clicked on Auston’s first to see it was a photo of his legs and it looked like he was laying on a hotel bed. Gathering all of my courage I close out of the app and pull up facetime. I click on Auston’s name and wait for it to connect. After a few rings, the call finally goes through.

“Hey baby,” he said. He was leaning up against the headboard wearing his Maple Leafs sweatshirt.

“Hi,” I said softly as I made my way towards the bedroom.

“What's up?” he asked, shuffling further down into the bed.

“I just got back from the dog park,” I said, setting my phone down on the bathroom counter.

“I thought I’d call you because I miss you,” I continued gently. A small smile lit up his face before he reached up to rub his eye. I pulled my sweatshirt off before turning the water on.

“I miss you too,” he said sweetly.

“Your mom texted me she said that you haven't texted her back about the dates,” I told him picking my phone back up.

“Sorry I forgot to text her back. I've been tired I can text her right now,” he grunted.

“It’s okay I can text her back. We were still thinking next weekend right?” I asked clicking her contact open. He nodded his head before speaking.

“Yeah next weekend,” he agreed.

“Are they staying at a hotel or ours?” I asked, setting my phone down after I finished texting Ema.

“Hotel,” he said, glancing at someone behind the camera before mumbling something to them.

“Okay,” I said, pulling my pants off.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting ready to shower,” I responded with a laugh. He groaned lightly before standing up from his bead and going to the bathroom. Once he had the door shut he leaned against the door.

“Show me,” he asked with a hint of lust. I smiled before re-angling the phone on the counter to show me in my bra and underwear. His eyes filled with want as he stared at me. He bit his upper look as he took me in.

“God I wish I was home,” he whined. I grinned before reaching into the shower to feel the water. Just perfect. I turned around to face my phone again and picked it up.

“Aus. I’m going to shower now,” I pouted sadly at him. He did the same.

“Noo don't go,” he whined, I giggled before taking off the rest of my clothes.

“Bye Aus. I love you,” I told him with a soft smile. He gave me one back before waving.

“Love you too baby.”

----

I sighed as the call went to voicemail. I guess I will just have to try again later. I pushed myself up from my bed and walked over to my clothes and pulling on a Leafs sweatshirt and some sweats before throwing myself back on my bed.

“Stop moping dude you look pathetic,” Mitch said, throwing a pillow at me. The pillow hit my back before falling off the bed to the floor.

“Shut up you whine about how much you miss Steph every five minutes,” I accused, wrapping my arms around my pillow and burying my face into it. Mitch laughed before turning to face me.

“Seriously what's up?” Mitch asked once the silence went on. I huffed before turning away from my pillow to face him.

“Just miss Amelia,” I told him honestly. I knew that Micthy wouldn't judge me. He understood the feeling as well as me.

“What's wrong with that?” Mitch asked locking his phone and setting it down next to him.

“It’s just been hard to stop thinking about how much I miss her,” I whined reaching for my phone to see if she texted me. I always felt like I was asking her for so much but I so badly wanted to ask for more right now. I wanted her here with me I wanted her in my bed right now. I hate that there is nothing I can do about it.

“I miss Steph,” Mitch said. I nodded my head.

“I get what you mean is what I’m saying I wish she was here and I hate not having her here,” he continued.

“At least you already locked her up,” Mitch said after a moment of silence. I laughed before sitting up in my bed.

I pulled my phone back out before sending a text to Amelia, what are you wearing? She immediately texted back, lol wouldn’t you like to know you perv and then only your jersey and that blue lingerie you love. I laughed lightly before a huge grin took over my face.

----

I sat on the couch as I waited for Auston to get home. He was supposed to fly home after the game they had played tonight. I had missed him so much that I was going to stay up and wait for him to get home. I glanced at the clock reading the time ten-thirty. Felix was waiting by the door like he knew Auston would be coming home today.

The game had ended twenty minutes ago and I now had That 70s Show playing quietly in the background as I scrolled through Instagram. It was one of my favorite social media apps. I had a private account that I let all my friends follow. I scrolled through and came across a photo of some of the WAGs out at the bar for the game tonight. I had been invited but told the girls that I was busy and couldn't make it. Truthfully I was just getting so anxious to see Auston.

I turned towards the front door as I heard something crash and sighed as I took in the scene before me. Felix must have knocked over the coat rack we had in the corner of the room in his excitement of the door handle turning. He immediately started barking and jumping at Auston. He smiled down at Felix as he started petting him and pushing his way into the apartment.

“Baby I’m home,” he called as he set his keys down on the kitchen counter and his bag on the ground. He then reached down for the coat rack to pick it up.

“Fuck Felix. You broke it,” he sighed as he picked up the broken piece and set it on the counter as well. I shoved my blanket aside and quickly made my way over to him making a jump into his arms. He was quick to catch me after his moment of shock.

“Auston,” I whispered, kissing all over his face before pulling him into a romantic kiss. He relaxed into the kiss and tightened his arms around my waist. I tightened my arms around his neck starting to kiss him a bit rougher. As I tried to deepen the kiss he pulled his lips away. I whined gently reaching forward to try to keep kissing him.

“Your in my jersey,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against mine. I grinned before pulling out of his arms and spreading my arms out and giving a twirl to show off the jersey. I sent him a wink once I was facing him again and he grinned back widely.

“Yeah baby. I missed you,” I told him and then I reached down to the bottom of the jersey and slowly started to pull the jersey off to reveal my blue lingerie which happened to be his favorite. His eyes hungrily took me in.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said before pulling me into a rough kiss and leading me to the bedroom.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Even the Yelling

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, a little angst. 

A/N: This takes place three years after graduation, Bakugou went Pro. NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS, SORRY. 

Summary:  While on patrol, Katsuki runs into you – his ex-girlfriend.

The day was boring – not a single fucking peep, not even from a lowlife criminal. Bakugo grunted as he checked the time on his cellphone, ignoring the text message from dumbass Deku. He was getting irate with the lack of action he was seeing during his shift, so he said screw it and decided to have an early lunch. He walked a few blocks before coming into a ramen shop that was all too familiar. He stood there for a moment, frozen at the front door; it was the restaurant he used to take you to.

“Fuck.” He muttered, not remembering how he even ended up on this street. Staring at his reflection in glass, he noted that his hero costume had changed quite a bit - it felt more refined and less childish now that he was a Pro.  He did away with the flashier items, dialed it down because he decided his power and pure strength would be what was on display. He sensed it within himself, the last couple of months had made him more into a man and he hated to think it had been because you weren’t around. He was forced to grow up, forced to deal with his feelings.

It had been six months since the two of you broke things off, he needed to focus on his Pro Hero career – always pushing himself closer and closer to the number one spot. He had become so consumed with his career that he didn’t notice you slipping away. His self-doubts and esteem had gotten the best of him when he noticed how other people could make you laugh so easily. He hated seeing his friends and you bonding, texting and making plans to hang while he took more shifts at his agency. You had decided not to go Pro, instead settled for a hiring job at a competing agency right after graduating. The two of you had busy lives but it worked out so well, you leased an apartment together.  Living with you had been the greatest year of his life, waking up to you had been Bakugo’s delight – not that he would admit it, at least not then. He knew now, that had been the problem – he couldn’t admit his feelings, any of them.  

“Kacchan?”

His heart dropped at the sound of your voice, for a moment, he thought he had made it up in his head. How pathetic, he thought to himself until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked away from his reflection to see you standing there, wearing jeans and a dark blue winter coat.  

“Lion,” he blurted out, embarrassed that he even uttered the loving nickname out loud. He was relieved that you didn’t seem to mind, just smiled. Six months had gone by - it might not have seemed long or maybe it did, but staring at you, he noticed how different you looked. He hoped you could notice the difference in him too.  

“How are you?”

“I haven’t kicked the damn bucket yet,” he urged in that same explosive tone you had loved since UA.  

You laughed, pretending it didn’t hurt to see him or worse that your heart was pounding so fast. His costume had changed since you had last seen him, it suited him better – he looked like a real Pro Hero. He stood straight; his hair shorter with an under cut. It was easy to admit to yourself that Bakugou was looking good because he always did, even if he wasn’t aware of it, which was hilarious, knowing how modest he could be.  

“That’s good to hear, were you going in to eat?”

You looked at him and tried to not be reminded of how much it hurt when he broke things off – sure it was technically mutual, but it felt far from it. He had been so busy with being a Pro Hero and you had always been supportive, but then it all got flat. Somewhere along the lines, the two of you became roommates, not lovers.  

“Uh, yeah – you hungry? It’s on me,” he said, reaching to open the door. You thanked him, accidently brushing up against him as you walked into the shop – his body took up a lot of room and it felt electric when you touched him. He looked slightly red, ushering you in with a slew of curses under his breath. You ignored them with a smile because it was nice to know he hadn’t changed entirely.  

He muttered something about getting a seat, but he didn’t need to, you knew which table to get – the back corner one. It was the one the two of you took up every week, sometimes together, sometimes Kirishima and Mina would join.  

The two of you sat down and ordered lunch, trying to edge around the notion that you were with each other again – after six long months. Bakugo leaned back into his chair, trying to seem relaxed but you saw the anxiousness in his eyes. He stared intently as you drew off your coat and sighed deeply.

“You fixin’ to leave? I’m not holding you back, you know.”

“I know,” you snapped. Your ex’s eyes widen in delight and he laughed, a gruff, loud laugh that drew attention from the other patrons.  

“There’s my Lion,” he laughed again. “I’ve missed your dumbass getting all pissed off. Remember when you challenged Kirishima to a fucking duel?”

Rolling your eyes, you asked how things were. “I heard your number one at the agency, congratulations.”

“It means shit,” Bakugo grunted, pausing as your food was brought to the table. Neither of you said a word, just thanked the waitress before she walked away, and then it was radio silence. The ramen was hot, steam circling up to your nose as you felt his eyes on you. He was undressing you like he used to, carefully watching for turns in your mood, ready to fight at a drop of a hat.  

“I’m not trying to fight with you, Katsuki.”

“I ain’t tryin’ to fight either, it’s fucking pointless. This whole thing is pointless – what the hell were you doing so far from your part of the city?”

You looked at him with great disbelief and laughed. “You’re fixin’ for a fight, dumbass.”

He didn’t catch the bait, instead he sighed and scratched the back of his head. “No, I'm not,” he whispered, voice low and sincere. “I didn’t expect to see you today, it’s been a while, huh?”

Admittedly, you were a bit shocked – this whole set up screamed fighting, that’s how it was the last month of your relationship.  The two of you would pick fights with the other, ending the night with Bakugo on the couch or crashing with Kirishima – it was childish, and you saw now, that the two of you were past that.  

“I’ve been busy with work, I’m looking to move agencies,” you said.

“Going Pro now?”

“Hell no,” you laughed, leaning forward to eat. “Although Fatgum has been begging me to join his agency, he wants me to be a trainer.”

Bakugo nodded and pointed his chopsticks at you. “You’re wasting your quirk by pushin’ paper behind some shitty desk. You should take up his offer, you’re a good trainer.”

He was speaking from experience; back at UA and after graduation, you spent hours training with him. Your quirk allowed for you to momentary blind your opponent, it was a useful quirk, but you realized earlier on at UA that your passion was leaning towards training than leading. Bakugo loved when you used your quirk on him, he felt like it enhanced his senses and quirk.  That’s how your relationship started, he had demanded that you to trained with him and no sooner than later, the two of you had become decent friends. Then somewhere along the lines, he had confessed to you during a session – he was pissed off that you weren’t pushing yourself with your quirk.

“You’re gonna be a great hero! Don’t be a dumbass! FIGHT ME!”

“I’m not like you, Katsuki! I don’t have the fire inside me,” you yelled back, lifting the blindness from his sight. He dropped down from the air and landed with a large bang; his eyes were glowing with fury as he walked towards you. You stumbled back and threw an upward hand gesture to him, making him blind again.  

“I don’t need my sight! I CAN SEE PERFECTLY! You’re meant to be a damn hero!”

You knew he meant well, but you just didn’t have it in you. “I don’t want to be a hero; I want to help people become the heroes.”

Bakugo stopped in his tracks as you lifted your quirk. He didn’t look upset, just a little disappointment. Your heart raced as he stood silent, eyes fixated on you. Then he spoke and it wasn’t what you had expected.  

“I know I can’t make you be a hero if you don’t want to,” he said quietly, the undertone of his voice retrained and hoarse. “Yeah, it’s gonna piss me off that your wasting your quirk but I’ll respect your wishes. Just know I believe in you; I know my Lion can do it!”

“Your - your lion?”

He squinted and crossed his arms against his chest. “Are you deaf! I know you heard me!”

That was the closest to a confession Katsuki had ever given anyone, and after the session, the two of you had become a couple.

A couple of idiots, you realized as you looked across the table to an older version of the boy from that fighting session. The two of you were kids then, maybe still are – sometimes you felt older than you were and then there were other times that you longed for the days at UA.  

“Training would be far more interesting than recruiting...”

Bakugo grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. I guess you’ll be seeing Shitty Hair more often, huh.”

“Always an asshole, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes fell onto yours as you smiled and continued to eat – then a sinking feeling washed over him. It was a chance meeting – how many times had he run into in the last six months? None. Now today, here you were across from him, looking beautiful as ever and it pissed me off knowing you were existing without him. That was selfish – he didn’t mean that, all his feelings were jumbled up.  

He just missed you, he hadn’t realized it until he saw you. Yeah, his days were long, and he spent too much time at the agency. He still wanted to be the world’s number one hero but when the days were over, he came home to an empty feeling.  He even still had the photo from his birthday last year up in the living room.

You had thrown him a surprise 21st party and the old gang from UA were there. It was more fun than he cared to admit, but he was annoyed that Sero had gotten a photo of you and him cuddling on the couch after several drinks. He had gotten damn tipsy – his first time in fact and if he thought about it too hard, he could still feel the hangover from the next morning.  

“I’m different now.”

Katsuki’s voiced boomed in your ears so unexpectedly your chin was covered in ramen broth; he laughed and without thinking, reached over to clean your chin with his napkin. Frozen, you could only watch and feel the weight of the napkin on your skin until he pulled away and tossed the cloth on the table.  

“Anyway, I’m different – you should know that. I’ve - I’ve been tryin’ and it’s been a real pain in the ass!”

Your face relaxed and all you could do was smile at him – he looked and sounded sincere, and you knew it took a lot of strength for Bakugo to even talk about his feelings. So, you had to give him that.  

“I hope you didn’t change too much,” you teased, reaching your hand across the table to his but unsureness had you pulling away. He noticed right away, reaching to death grip your hand. His hand warmer than most. It was comforting as it always had been, and you felt guilt in that moment for not fighting for your relationship. Then again, the Bakugo sitting across from you was more mature than the one you said goodbye too six months ago.  

He held your hand tightly and leaned forward, his red eyes softening. “I-I know I’m an asshole and my hero career is important to me but – but I can’t let you go again.  I’ll be more present....”

Relief – that's what you felt after hearing those words from the man you loved since the two of you were teenagers. Yes, he was difficult at times, but no one knew him like you did. No one saw the person he was behind closed doors – he laughed a lot and was the biggest home body you knew. He was thoughtful and sometimes silly. There were days when he came home from the agency pissed the hell off, cursing and unable to settle down but that was his passion, and you were more than happy to him rant about his day.  It was when he stopped talking that things changed, he stopped coming to you with his problems and most importantly, his laughs.  

“I never wanted anything but to be your person, Katsuki,” you said giving his hand a squeeze. He relaxed under your touch, the two of you forgetting about the hot ramen in front of you.  “I can’t do this again if you stop talking to me, so, please, don’t stop talking.”

He grinned widely, squinting his eyes mischievously.  “Even my yellin’?”

You laughed then and rolled your eyes, god, he was such an asshole. “Yeah, dumbass, especially the yelling.”

[stayforya]

SPRING DAY | MIN YOONGI

member: min yoongi

genre: soulmate!au

words: 7.9k

summary: from the moment you said hello to the moment you teared apart, from winter to spring – you never stopped thinking about each other, not even a day.

a/n: every time I listen to spring day, I can imagine many scenarios and this is one of them. long time friends/lovers who keep meeting again because life doesn't seem to want them apart.

spring, 5 years ago

spring is one of the most beautiful seasons. after a long, cold and monochromatic winter, the flowers start to bloom, the trees become green again and the fresh air and bright sun breathes life into people’s faces. you were going through a good moment – finally started college, met new people, got into a whole new world. even though you weren’t very good at starting things over, the challenging feeling would always be worth it in the end and you were quite excited about the unknown this time. the idea of ​​how unexpected life is and how the little moments of today can become decisive in the future has given you a sense of "destined to be". the random person you partnered with for an assignment in the first few weeks of school was now your best partner, for instance. 

later that day, you finished everything you had to do. in the front courtyard of the university, the cherry blossoms were blooming and some petals even fell due to the strong wind that blew every now and then. it was a romantic setting, some couples were walking and hugging, some people (like you) were watching or reading books under the trees, and a few others seemed to be living a decisive moment on a beautiful day. a day like that didn't go well with breakups, but the couple sitting on the bench a few meters from where you were seemed to be going through a difficult time.

“just tell me right away. you’re letting me go because you found a better one, isn’t it?”, his voice was stable and calm, as if he wasn't sad. but his face showed something else, he barely looked at the woman beside him.

“where would I find someone better than you? listen, what I’m saying is that we are both going through a hard time”, she explained, gesturing a lot.

“we are not going through a hard time in this relationship. our issues come from college, job, these kind of stuff. but between us, isn’t it all fine?”

she remained silent, no longer looking at him but at her own hands on her legs. you felt weird for listening to that conversation while keeping your head hidden behind the book you were reading.

“my family and I have other plans for me now. I’m going abroad”, the woman said. that made the guy immediately look at her, probably looking for answers in her face, but all he could find were more questions.

“so why are you creating excuses? why didn’t you say it right away?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you! and I am hurting too”, she was actively defending herself as if she was being wrongly accused.

“are you? are you really? I am almost graduating and I have no steady job, but I would move heavens and earth to find anything that would make you feel safer with me. I was ready to give you whatever you needed.”

his words were so sincere she started to cry. you could see the tears falling down from her big eyes and his hands reaching hers. she didn’t let him touch her hand because she reached out for a hug, holding him closer not to keep him, but to say goodbye. you didn’t know if he still had hope, if he was still waiting for her to change her mind and stay with him.

“you can’t give me what I need, yoongi. I’m sorry”, she said looking into his small and sad eyes that didn’t shed a tear.

“will you come back?”, he asked.

she shook her head in denial, “I still don’t know. don’t wait for me, though, you’ll find someone better.”

he didn’t say anything else while she stood up and left. he also didn’t look her way again, maybe because it would make the moment even harder. by the way his face seemed unbothered, you knew he was the type that hurts inside. the type that wanted her to stay, even though he didn’t ask for it directly. you spent the rest of the day thinking about this couple, the reasons that made her go away. as a believer, you know everything happens for a reason and you were dying to know how that love story would lead to the other chapters of that couple’s life. it was just your common habit, to imagine what fate had prepared for people, how moments interconnected and how paths could cross again. you always think about it, always about others, never about you. 

didn't fate have something ready for you too?

winter, 5 years ago

rainy days were great... when you were home. to go out in the pouring rain could be very annoying, considering what the wet weather makes to your hair and how tricky it is to run under the rain. as if you didn't know that, you still left home late. you had this very important presentation about modern art at the fine art department, which was open to the public. thankfully, there would be many other presentations happening at the same time as yours and the rain could make people give up going. the auditorium was reasonably full when you arrived. there were fifteen minutes to go and your professor was already looking at her watch impatiently when she saw you walk through the doors.

“I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“I’m sorry, ms. lee. the rain didn’t help at all”, you sighed, putting your bag on the table. “is everything ready?”

“yes, we still have some time. here”, she handed you a bottle of water. she was a great professor. that presentation wasn't the easiest thing you had done in life (in fact, it was very challenging), but she believed you when she chose you after a classroom presentation. and when someone believes in you, you must also believe in yourself. 

during the remaining fifteen minutes, more people arrived and you went up the stairs to the auditorium stage. your heart was beating so hard that you could only hear the blood pumping. talking about modern art is a pleasure to you. from the historical to the visual – when the pictures appeared on the big screen behind you –, it was like immersing yourself in the painters' minds. all you wanted to do was to transmit some passion on to those who were watching the presentation, because that is exactly what you feel when you are studying the fascinating world of art.

and so you did. you didn’t have more than thirty minutes to say everything you wanted to say, but it went just like you rehearsed a hundred times at home. it was fascinating to see some unknown faces enjoying the historical and visual travel you tried to communicate through the images stamped on the big screen. after you, someone else would present too for the next thirty minutes, so you sat down to watch and breath again, feeling as if a heavy weight was taken off your back.

“what is the next presentation about?”, you whispered to your colleague. 

“it’s about the relationship between music and art”, he gave you the flyer of the event. you found your photo there, along with all the people who would be presenting that week, schedules and themes. you were too focused on that flyer, but when classical music reached your ears, your attention went directly to the stage.

the man on the stage was wearing all black clothes. the turtleneck shirt, the coat on top of it and the glasses made him look like a professor, but you knew that everyone who was presenting was still a student. he spoke smoothly, which perfectly matched what he was talking about and made the entire auditorium pay attention not to miss a word. somehow that spell was hitting you too. you had studied a lot what you needed to say, but the way he spoke seemed like he had already been born knowing everything. it was a relief that he took the stage after you and not before.

after all, everyone got up and started to leave the auditorium. the organizing team, however, remained there and so did you. the turtleneck guy (you decided to call him like that) was there, still talking to two people who went to ask him questions after the presentation. you were also finishing a brief conversation with a girl very interested in modern art.

ms. lee called you and you immediately answered. she wanted to thank everyone for the hard work, as she always did. you saw the turtleneck guy approaching the group too.

“it was great, everyone! we shall do it again”, the whole group smiled. “of course I need to thank the team from music department, thank you for joining us and bringing so much content to today’s meeting. mr. min, your professor must be very proud of you.”

it seemed like everyone knew who mr. min was, you were the last one to find out by looking at the same direction as ms. lee. the turtleneck guy was mr. min and it sounded even more sophisticated.

“thank you, ms. lee”, he formally thanked while a shy smile appeared on his lips. you wondered if you were overanalysing him, since you couldn’t lose any opportunity of looking at him, mainly because his face was somehow familiar. 

you didn’t know you’d do what you did next until you already had done. when everyone started to leave the auditorium, you followed mr. min-turtleneck for some reason.

“congratulations on your presentation”, he looked back to find out who was the owner of the voice. it was okay to say that, right? you and him were the ones who presented something, so it was perfectly okay to congratulate him.

“oh, thank you. congratulations on yours, too”, it was kind of... nonchalant. or maybe you were expecting more, even though he didn't say more than this to anyone else during the last minutes. 

he kept walking and you stood in the hall, wondering if you should walk into another auditorium to attend a lecture or just go home. the rain hadn’t ceased, you could see through the big glass doors of the building, and your professor and colleagues had gone somewhere else, but you had already lost sight of them. you walked to the glass doors to watch the rain while you waited for it to stop. it wasn't like you had nothing to do, you just weren't in a hurry to get home.

your phone was ringing non-stop because of the messages, which you read and replied quickly. the ideal for that post-presentation night was to go out with your friends, eat something, have fun. however, everyone was busy or traveling, so you would have to deal with an evening alone watching netflix and eating chips (which wasn't too bad, honestly).

you felt a human presence next to you, but you were too absorbed in watching the rain to look at the person. only when you heard the sound of someone putting up an umbrella, you redirected your attention. about to step out of the building, there he was: mr. min. you swear you looked at him for only two seconds, but it was enough for him to notice and look back at you. you didn’t avoid eye contact, though, because it would be more awkward and, honestly, you didn’t know what to do when the whole hall was empty, leaving you and him alone.

“do you have an umbrella?”, he asked. the words ran out your mind for a moment.

“I don’t”, you answered. it would definitely be easier to say you did, so the conversation would be over and your mind would be at ease again, because your brain was working so hard you didn’t understand what was going on. was it because he was a very smart guy and you were scared to sound stupid?

“do you want to...”, he didn’t finish the sentence and you felt so much better to see he was feeling awkward to say that too. mr. min was pointing to his own umbrella with his head, which meant he was willing to help you get to the bus station or wherever you were going.

“it’s fine, I can wait.”

“it doesn’t seem like it will stop anytime soon...”

you looked at him for a while and shrugged, “fine”. you were proud of yourself, since you seemed calm and unconcerned by the way you responded . your brain rested a little now that the situation was under your control, but it didn't take long for you to feel tense again. he wouldn't borrow the umbrella, he would go with you under it, and the space seemed too small. “you can leave me at the bus stop”.

the whole one minute walk was silent. when you reached the bus stop, you were ready to say goodbye and thank him for the help. however, he didn’t leave, he put down the umbrella and stood there.

“it’s okay, you can go if you want to...”

he looked at you, confused, “go? where?”

you were as confused as him. “wait, will you wait for the bus too?”

“yes. why did you think I was here?”, his tone was calm, but you felt your face warming slowly as if you said something wrong. “wait, did I sound harsh?”, there was a bit of concern in his voice.

“no”, you giggled. 

“oh. I thought I made you blush because I sounded harsh.”

“huh? you didn’t- forget it”, you gave up and he smiled, not looking at you. you just stood there, waiting for the bus. it took about five minutes, but it felt like forever because you and mr. min were in complete silence. by the way, calling him ‘mr. min’ was starting to sound weird now that you saw a glimpse of his sense of humor.

when the bus arrived, he started to move and you noticed he was about to get on. he was closer to the door, so he got on first and sat on the chairs at the back. the bus was almost empty, just you, him and three people sat separately. where would you sit? would it be weird to sit far from him after getting to know him, or it would be better to sit next to him since you got to know him? it was pretty confusing and you had to think quickly. 

he was looking through the window when you sat by his side, unbothered by your presence. you were feeling stupid for sitting there and for the fact that your heart was beating faster than it should in this situation. why was that, though? maybe because of the mysterious vibe he had and how he started to show a glimpse of his personality when he joked about you blushing.

you knew breaking the silence was the only way to make it less awkward. “are you going home?”

“no, I’ll meet some friends”, he said, looking at the watch on his left arm. you never noticed watches a lot, for you they were just essencial items. but looking at his left arm, relatively close to yours, that silver watch was shining and his hands were so beautiful. you scolded yourself for paying attention to those details, after all, it would only lead you to have a crush on someone who had a high chance of never seeing you again. “you?”

“I’m heading home”, you felt his eyes indirectly looking at you. 

“you don’t seem very excited about it”, he said and you still felt his eyes on you. he was looking at your arms holding your bag, because you two were a little too close to look at each other’s faces.

“I am not, indeed. I’ll just buy food and watch a nice christmas movie”

“so, netflix and-”

“stop there, just netflix”, you interrupted him immediately because you didn't know if he would complete the sentence. he laughed after he understood what you were saying.

“I was just going to say netflix and eat”, discreetly, he raised his hands in surrender. “what are you planing to watch?”

you shrugged, “anything, from the grinch to a cliche rom-com.”

“it sounds fun, though”, he started to look at the window again.

“you don’t look like someone who watches the grinch or cliche rom-coms”, you said.

“it depends. I think everyone needs to watch movies like these once in a while.”

“and christmas time seems like the perfect time to watch them.”

“exactly”, he agreed. it didn't look like he was the serious person who was giving a lecture an hour ago, because of the way he managed to get from that to someone talking about fun movies with a stranger on the bus, and that said a lot about him. “oh, I gotta go”

the bus slowly stopped close to a busy street full of restaurants and people. he stood up and looked at you before the door opened.

“I’m yoongi, by the way”, he said.

“I’m y/n. nice to meet you”, you smiled without much excitement, a little disappointed because he was getting off the bus. 

summer, 4 years ago

it was finally summer time, the sun was bright and high in the sky. you felt it warming your skin and it felt good, because it was time to have fun. your friends called, wondering where were you. they were waiting for you at a restaurant, with some other friends of them and people you probably didn’t know yet. but to be honest, you were excited. it was summer, time to have fun and enjoy. plus, you were free for that day and the whole weekend too.

you entered through the front glass doors, thankful for the cold air conditioner that reduced the heat, because the day was really hot outdoors. your friend raised her hand, signaling where they were, and you walked to the table. there were ten people there, most of them you didn’t know but already had seen before.

you sat next to your other friend and she immediately asked if you wanted to eat something. you said yes, while she started to introduce you to everyone, but then your eyes met someone else’s. his eyebrows raised discreetly and you tilted your head to the left, trying to understand if you were really seeing what your eyes were witnessing. 

“we know each other”, he said when your friend said his name and yours, introducing both of you.

“really?”, she was surprised and glad at the same time. the way her eyes looked at yours said something, you immediately remembered: she said you and one of her friends definitely should meet, because you two would match well. was it him?

“yeah, we met before. it’s good to see you again”

“you too”, he said and then everyone started side conversations. he was sitting in front of you, which made him comfortable to talk a little bit more. “did you watch the grinch?”

“hm?”, you almost choked on what you were drinking, “you didn’t forget, right? actually I watched it and other two movies that night.”

“oh, it was a long night, then”, he took a sip of his drink.

“yep, it was”, you took a sip too.

when all of you left the restaurant, the sun was almost setting and the weather was much better. each would go their own way, some as a couple, others among friends and others alone. your two friends were accompanied by their boyfriends, but they still asked if you would like them to go home with you. you said you would be fine, you wanted to buy some stuff before going home, anyway. 

“didn’t you like him?”, one of them asked.

“who? yoongi?”

“yeah, he’s the guy I mentioned, the one that matches you well.”

you laughed, “no, forget it. but he’s nice.”

“well, you should give it a shot...”, she shrugged and smiled. yoongi said goodbye to his friends and walked up to you with his hands in his pockets. there were only you and him behind everyone else. 

“are you going to ride the bus?”

you looked at him quickly, “no, I’ll buy some stuff before.”

he nodded and didn’t say anything else, which forced you to speak again to keep the conversation going. you wanted to talk to him.

“and you?”

“I have nothing to do right now.”

“is this your way of offering to go with me?”

“excuse me?”, he looked at you and smiled. you noticed you were smiling too, because looking at his face made you smile for no reason. “if you want me to go, just ask.”

“I want you to come with me. what about it?”

“I will go with you, thanks”, he was acting so cool you laughed at his attitude.

walking around with yoongi wasn’t supposed to be that fun – at least you didn’t expect it to be. he helped you to find nice sneakers, laughing at the ones that didn’t fit your style at all. he went to the makeup store with you, giving an opinion on everything you tested (but his opinion wasn’t always valid because, when it comes to makeup, he said all of them looked good on you). 

“do you want to eat something?”, you asked, “you must be hungry.”

“nah, we have been walking for just four hours”, he exaggerated and made you laugh. you were walking just for one hour and a half, maybe.

“is that so boring to walk around with me that it feels like four hours?”, you pretended to be offended, but he hesitated for a second, as if reflecting on what he said before. “I’m just kidding”, you said.

“you really got me thinking for a second”, yoongi said and you two laughed for real. when you laugh with someone, it's like a connection is created between you. that's exactly what happened, and because of that connection, the two of you were closer, including physically. if at the beginning of the meeting you were a little far away, respecting the space, at that moment you could already feel your hand touching his when the bags you were holding hit the ones he was holding.

yoongi said he knew a nice place to stop by and eat, so you told him to take you there. it was a lovely cafe with a pleasant atmosphere, and he guided you to the second floor, where there were fewer people and more space to be at ease. he asked for the bag that was in your hand, added it to the bag that was in his and placed it near you.

“I’ve never been here, it’s nice”, you said.

“I come here mostly by myself, it's a quiet place to work. and the food here is great”, yoongi looked through the glass wall, through which you could see the street.

“and you work with music”, you guessed it from the lecture months ago.

“yes, I do”, he smiled slightly, but with satisfaction. you could tell he was looking even more cute at that moment under that light. “I like it very much, to be honest. but tell me about you too”

“what do I do? I am still studying art and now working with it. an internship”, you said.

“by the way you spoke at that lecture, I’m sure you’re doing amazing”, he said, but didn’t look directly at your face. the way yoongi was confident at some moments and shy at other ones made you smile every time.

the conversation was interrupted by the person bringing the orders. you thought you both would eat in silence, but none of you could stop talking. he asked more about you, and you answered, also asking about him. it was obvious how you two wanted to know each other in a short amount of time, as if at the end of the date you would part ways for a long time, like before.

you liked when he laughed at what you said, because it felt like winning an award. yoongi was deeply into that conversation, almost forgetting to eat the cake you two were sharing.

“if you don’t eat, I’ll do it”, you said.

“I’m full just by watching you eat”, he said and you giggled immediately, “was it too cringy?”, he laughed too.

“no, it wasn’t”, you knew your eyes said it all. you were having way too much fun.

yoongi told you stories about his work, his university years and his friends. you could say he was comfortable with you by the way he spoke easily, not holding back details. you enjoyed to listen to his intelectual side, the way he knew everything about music; but when he told you stories about his life, it was even more enjoyable. 

but he didn't just talk, because he wanted to know about you too. after only two or three questions from him, you were comfortable talking about your life and your plans. it wasn’t difficult to do that because he didn’t judge what you said or thought, he was interested. 

it is extremely difficult to put some feelings into words, but to shorten the story: the feeling was that you had found much more than a nice person, but a connection so strong that for a minute you could believe in soul mates. not soul mates who can’t live without each other, or who are incomplete on their own, or who knew each other from other lives, as people said. not like this. you felt like you connected more than through a good conversation, or physically, but in an even deeper way.

after eating and being much more closer than before, he walked to the bus stop with you. it was time to part ways and you were already missing the unexpected date you and him had. 

“let me give you my number”, he said, right away. you felt your heart skip a beat.

“here”, you handed him your phone. he called his number so your number could show up on his phone and he saved it.

“I had a great time today”, you said, not looking directly into his eyes.

“me too”, hands on the pockets. “wasn’t it unexpected? how we met today.”

“yeah, I had no idea we had mutual friends.”

“neither did I, even though my friends know a lot of people”, he smiled. “but it was a nice surprise to see you again.”

you finally looked at him. his eyes were affectionate, just like everything about him.

“then we should see each other again”, you said.

“then don’t go”, he joked, but he was also saying the truth. “you can call me, ok?”

“I’ll be waiting for your call, too”

“I’ll do it at the moment I ride the bus”, he said and you smiled. 

you got closer to him, your arms touching his. why wait? slowly, you touched his arms and placed yourself into them. you hugged him and he hugged you back, trying to hold on from not holding you closer and tighter. you felt his head touching yours. 

you and yoongi were so close that when you separated from the embrace, it was inevitable that the faces wouldn’t touch. then, without thinking too much, the two of you leaned in sync for a kiss. his gentle and warm lips touching yours, warming not only your face but your whole body. yoongi’s right hand stroked your hair and the side of your face, which made you forget everything else. he smiled when he noticed you liked the kiss. yes, you liked the kiss and you liked him. you liked to spend time with him. you could forget the bus, but it was almost arriving. your hand touched his neck and you left a last kiss on his pink small lips, noses touching.

autumn, 3 years ago

in one year together, a lot happened to you and yoongi. a lot of great things. you had dated before, but no one could ever compare to him. he was something else, he was special. he could be a very serious and focused guy when working, fun and affectionate when with you. was it possible not to love him? not to want to spend your whole life with him?

the way he holds you, kisses your cheeks with his pink lips, buries his face on your neck, caresses your hair. the way he tells you beautiful things, talks to you about his feelings, plays the piano while you’re around, watches the corniest movies with you and make fun of every cheesy line of it.

he doesn’t say he loves you all the time, because he shows it through every single thing he does for you and with you. but when he says it, he’s so sure, so intense, you could marry him right away. 

“you look tired”, he said, as tired as you after a long day of work.

“it’s because I am”, you smiled looking at him. you two were cuddling on the sofa. 

“do you want to eat?”

“no, I’m fine”, you touched his hair. “how about you?”

“as long as I’m with you I’m good”, he hid his face on your neck so his voice was barely audible.

you caressed his hands until he looked at you again, then leaning to a kiss. he loved when you kissed him first, he once said it (and never again, because he was shy to admit sometimes, but you knew it just by the way he smiled when your lips touched). he touched your arm, shoulder, neck, until his fingers were placed comfortably in your hair. he kissed you slowly and when your lips parted, still close enough, he looked at you and said “I love you”. he meant that. he always did. he meant it with his gentle touch, kisses, hugs, words, and even when he didn’t say anything but cared for you in so many ways. “please, just stay forever”, you whispered against his lips. he gave you a smooch. “between you and I, nothing will ever change”.

that moment lasted forever. it really felt eternal and you didn’t want to leave. you were in his apartment, which was almost half yours just by the amount of time you spent there. he gave you the password, said you could go there whenever you wanted, even if he wasn’t home. you did the same, gave your password to him, and that led you to a bunch of times he surprised you when you arrived home. wherever, to be you and him alone was the best thing in the world.

the bell rang and took you out of that moment. it was not eternal, after all. you hadn't ordered food, nobody was coming to visit. what could it be? you stayed there, sitting on the sofa, and yoongi got up to open the door, without even checking who was it through the screen next to the door. he didn't expect it to be who it was. he was too sure it was probably someone knocking on the wrong door, but it wasn't.

“jia?”, you couldn’t see who it was from where you were sitting, but he sounded very surprised.

“hey, long time no-”, she walked in and found you on the sofa, as confused as she was from that moment on, “oh, sorry.”

you got up quickly, as if you were a visitor and not the person who has been in that house almost every day in the last few months. “it’s okay”, you tried to smile.

“I’m jia”, she said.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you”

yoongi was still there, but you almost forgot. he was the central figure in the story, the person who knew you and knew jia, yet he was immobilized behind her. you could see him from where you were and he was uncomfortable, you knew it.

“sorry, y/n, this is jia. and jia, this is... y/n”, he said, pausing before he said your name. you thought he would say who jia was and who you were, but he didn’t. “I didn’t expect you to come here”, he said to her. 

“I thought you were by yourself, that’s why I came over. I arrived last week, but I lost your number... anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting”, she looked at you and you could say she wasn’t expecting you there. for some reason you felt like you were the person who was interrupting, because something about the way jia and yoongi communicated had some kind of familiarity from long before you.

“yeah, hm... the boxes are in the bedroom”, yoongi extended his arm towards the bedroom door. his bedroom. jia excused herself and opened the bedroom door, once again with such intimacy that it felt like she lived there for a long time. still standing there, you thought: maybe she really lived.

yoongi breathed out through his mouth, running a hand through his hair.

“won’t you help her?”, you said. it came out of your lips before you even think properly. he finally looked at you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to happen... like this.”

“was it supposed to happen, then?”, you asked, looking for your bag.

“yes, she was supposed to pick up her stuff a long time ago. I was almost sending it to charity... wait, are you going?”

you tried to look at the bedroom discreetly and saw jia there, “well, she’s right now sitting on your bed, I don’t think she’ll leave too soon.”

“hey”, he knew you were uncomfortable with the situation, “I’m sorry, it really was unexpected... jia is my ex girlfriend, as you may have noticed. we broke up a long time ago and now she’s just picking up her stuff.”

“yoongi”, jia showed up with a medium box and a backpack. yoongi, who was touching your arms, stopped instantly. you noticed, of course. “I couldn’t find my perfume anywhere”

“maybe you didn’t put it in the box or it’s just not here”, he said.

“yeah... that was a good one”, she looked at him and they were communicating through their eyes, a communication you were not part of and you would not understand. “hope you’re not keeping it, huh”, she joked and laughed.

you couldn’t see very well, but yoongi smiled for a second. what was happening there? were they just very friendly? you were there. his girlfriend. why were they acting as if you were just another friend standing there, or worse, as if you weren’t even there?

“I’ll open the door for you”, he walked her to the door and you stood there. you wanted to move, but somehow you were stuck.

“see you?”, she smiled at you.

you smiled back, “see you”, even though you didn’t really mean it. 

“oh, this is heavy...”, jia said.

“is your car downstairs?”, yoongi asked, opening the door.

“no, I took a cab here. I’ll just take the bus home now. it’s not that late, right?”

you showed up next to them, bag on your shoulder. yoongi looked at you and you felt like she was indirectly asking him to take her home. 

“I can... give you a ride, I guess”, he looked at her and then at you, wondering if you were okay with that. “it only takes ten minutes, I’ll come back”

“no problem, I’m also going home”, you said.

“won’t you wait? I thought you’d-”

“stay?”, you completed the sentence, “next time. bye”

you walked out. when you reached the sidewalk, you felt weaker and hated yourself for that. it was as if the feelings were hitting you because you knew, somehow, that would lead to something bad.

winter, 3 years ago

you wish everything could be different. the arrival of jia shook everything between you and yoongi, even when you tried so hard to keep it steady. she wasn’t a bad person exactly, but she surely wanted to start over from where they stopped and you felt like an intruder. days went by and things started to get harder. firstly she showed up out of nowhere to return his old coat that was still in her stuff. then, she started to send him messages, or set up a meeting with friends from the university days so he could go too. 

you never really told him you were annoyed by this. you just questioned him a couple times and he noticed how upset you were when jia made a new move. maybe the lack of communication set you two apart. day by day, you were drifting away from him and it was harder to come back to what you two were as a couple. you stopped going to his house, started to find excuses to not meet him, because you knew everything was different for you now. 

until the day he came to your house to spend time with you. you were different, you just couldn’t be with him like before, as if by staying far from him you could avoid the inevitable heartbreak. 

“what’s going on, y/n?”, for the first time ever you saw him extremely worried and upset. 

“nothing, I just... I’m just tired, yoongi”

“you don’t tell me what’s going on anymore, we don’t go out as often as we used to, you don’t even... you don’t even kiss me like you did before.”

tears started to fall from your eyes slowly, “did you ever ask? since your ex came back, did you ever ask why was I different?”

“why is jia a problem? what’s really going on?”

“see? I am telling you! everything changed from the day she put her feet on your apartment and it felt like she was just coming back to her place. she’s finding any excuse to meet you and you’re simply going. can’t you see? she doesn’t want to be friends with you, she wants you. I just don’t want to compete for a place in your heart.” 

you didn’t know how but it all came out as a flash flood. was he really naive about her intentions or did he like it? 

“y/n...”, he hugged you and you let him do it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“and I don’t want to be hurt. that’s why I can’t be the same anymore. I can’t be who I was because I feel like things changed.”

“please, I love you...”, he didn’t know what else to say but you could feel his heart beating fast.

“don’t say it...”, there in his arms, all your worries seemed to fade.

“there’s nothing going on between me and jia. it’s all past. please, don’t let it set us apart now.”

you walked away from the hug and looked at him. “is there something you wanna tell me?”, you knew him very well.

he sighed, sitting on the sofa. you sat by his side, still waiting. “I received my enlistment letter a while ago, before even meeting you that day. I can’t postpone it anymore, mainly now that I already achieved my academic goals. I really need to fulfill my duty, y/n.”

“wait...”, you were confused, “I thought you already completed your military service.”

“most people did... I wish I could have done it before, but I had to go through a shoulder surgery. I told you about the accident while working for the company that fired me after that. I was dealing legally for a long time to finally receive the benefits I didn't get from the company back then, and jia was helping me with this, since she’s a lawyer.”

“you should have told me.”

“yes. I should have told you since the start. I’m sorry for that... I didn’t want to worry you.”

“the only reason you postponed was the surgery?”

“no, at that time I got accept into the university and wasn’t able to stop studying for two years, because I was enjoying it so much ”, he was very sincere. “I love to study and work with music, but I know I also have to fulfill my duty now.”

to hear him say that again made it feel more real.

“when are you going?”

“next week”, he looked away while saying this.

you blinked twice, trying to understand if you heard correctly. some of it had been explained, but now a new problem has arisen. you knew, he had to serve for two years in the army. two long years. would you two be able to wait? you needed to think. the idea of seeing him just a couple times during the year, how would you deal with it?

he pulled you into a hug again and then whispered, “I’m sorry”, and you almost didn’t hear it. he hugged you so tight, you wanted to cry. cry because of everything, cry because of him, because of you, because of the love you were feeling.

“will we be able to do it?”, you looked at him, still into his arms. 

he touched your face and looked into your eyes. you knew his eyes very well and you could notice the sadness in them. “I don’t want to be apart”.

“neither do I.”

but how would you manage it? he didn’t know. none of you did. you only knew you wanted him – would that be enough for the two years ahead? so many questions. you shut all of them by kissing him like before, like you missed him already.

summer, 2 years ago

since you lost contact with yoongi, you were trying to move on day by day. breaking up wasn’t the only solution, but you and yoongi decided it was the best. you met him one day before he enlisted and had a great time together, as friends. 

you talked to him once in a while, when he sent a text or a picture, and it made your hear race because of the notification. you met your friends in common, even met jia on a store, which was surprisingly nice. but of course, even moving on, even finding things to do on your own, even not being in bad terms with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and wondering: did he think of you too? would you even meet him again?

you didn’t know, but he always thought of you. he thought about sending you a text or a picture when he had time to use his phone, but maybe it wasn’t the best option since you were living a life without him now. he was thinking of you while you were thinking of him. missing each other and wondering without answers. 

on a day off, he was walking by the same street you two hang out on that summer day, for the first time. he didn’t know you were there too, just like you didn’t know he was there, but for a second you thought you saw him.

winter, months ago

how could you watch the grinch and those cheesy rom-coms without thinking of him? you smiled, wanting to send him a picture of your tv. “hey, guess what I’m watching for the 2397473rd time?”, you almost typed. does he have time off on christmas or... has he been discharged already? no, maybe he’s busy, you thought.

he was home that night, by himself. drinking wine, eating and, yes, watching tv. searching for the grinch or any new rom-com to watch, even though he didn’t really enjoy those at first. but because of you and the memories you two created together, those kind of movies made him feel good, have a good laugh and think of you. 

spring, nowadays

life is better on spring – that’s what you always thought. just by walking and seeing the cherry blossoms painting the world in pink made you feel like a brand new person. you were feeling good, having a nice time, feeling the spring breeze on your hair. for the first time in a while, you weren’t overthinking anything, your mind was completely in that moment.

it was 4pm, you finished all your work for that day and it was time to go home, take a bath, maybe hang out with your friends later... you were open to other possibilities. when you approached the avenue, the pedestrian crossing traffic light turned red and you remained standing, holding the bag with both hands in front of your body. you were looking at nothing in particular, but when your eyes briefly passed over the faces of people across the avenue, a face caught your eye.

under the golden light of that time of day, yoongi was standing in front of you. many meters away, but still in front of you. you would walk to the side he was on, he would walk to the side where you were and your paths would cross in the middle of the avenue. maybe he would pretend he didn't see you, or maybe you would. but was it possible to pretend when it was written on your faces how surprised you were to see each other again?

the traffic light was now green for the pedestrians and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. you started walking and then lost sight of him. for a second you thought you would stop in the middle of the avenue, just to look for him, but you were still walking to the other side. 

when all the people walked by and you were reaching the sidewalk on the side he was on, you saw him. standing in the same place, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his cell phone and wallet. looking at you. a strong breeze made some flowers come off the tree and it looked like a movie scene, those beautiful ones. was it fate? was that moment meant to be?

you were finally by his side, on the sidewalk, and felt his gaze on you. you always thought that, if you saw him, your first impulse would be to hug him again, but no – something stopped you. 

“hey”, he said first.

“hi”, you answered. “nice to see you”

“I’m- hm, nice to see you too. how are you?”

“I’m fine, yeah”, you brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “and you? how’s life going?”

you knew he finished his service months ago because a friend in common posted a picture with him. 

“great, I got a new job after completing my service”, he was still talking when a very hurried person accidentally bumped on your shoulder. then yoongi touched your arm lightly, so that the two of you would move away from that busy area a little.

“this is great news! I’m happy that now you’ll be able to keep working with what you like the most.”

“yeah, right? well... I’d love to hear about you too. maybe we can see each other anytime?”

you just needed five seconds of courage and less pride. now or never, you thought.

“do you have time?”, you heard the words coming out of your mouth.

“now?”, you could see he was surprised, but not in a bad way. 

“yes. maybe”

“I do”, he said, “let’s go somewhere, then”

“I need to buy some stuff, if you don’t mind”

“no problem”, he said with a smile on his face. you knew it because you looked at him quickly, smiling too. you two were walking side by side, trying to avoid eye contact and craving for looking at each other at the same time. it would take just a few minutes for you two to start feeling comfortable again, after all this time. you knew it because it was like this since the first time you met him and, years later, it surely didn’t change.

it was a spring day again; you missed him and he missed you. but now you were face to face.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

And in the end, it wasn’t you

John Wick x reader (A/n- I said I was doing it, so I’m doing it.)

Masterlist

Warnings- Angst.

Lately, every time he saw her, all he could see was that night; flashes of her in that dress of ivory satin, the one which hugged her curves so perfectly, danced around his mind the way she’d danced in his arms past two am. John could see the woman he'd fallen for, the one who he’d found love in and who he’d married because he was convinced that they were made for each other. They had to be, someone like Y/n didn’t just come into your life by accident. There was purpose, in their love and in their life together. The purpose being a lifetime’s worth of forever. She was supposed to be the woman he loved until his final breath and he was supposed to father her children.

But there they were, calling it quits.

After so many years, through aches and pains, sickness and in health, where he was at his worst and she'd still given him her best, it was over. After he’d stuck by her through the storms and been the velvet in the rough, they had both decided that it was over. There’d been too many fights, roads had split into different paths and he and Y/n had slowly started growing into different leading lives that stopped involving each other. She was no longer the woman that could look past the blood he trailed through the front door and John had evolved into a man that could no longer tolerate a love that sought to change him faster than he could change himself. They’d morphed into different people, maybe they’d always been different people But, at least back then it was easy to hide, be what each other wanted, not just a safe place to land, but also a sunrise after the darkest night and a rain after a drought. 

“Where have you gone?” Was what John longed to ask. Where was the woman that found happiness in him, the woman that had given him an incomparable happiness? It was hard to believe that the one sitting downstairs, waiting for him to pack the rest of his things, was the same one he’d itched to marry. Could people really change that much? Had he really changed so much? 

“I hate you!” Was what she’d screamed on the night they’d decided that separation  was the only way forward, and had come not too long after he’d yelled his biggest regrets; her. They’d been things said with carelessness, when hurting seemed more favorable than healing. John hadn’t meant to say that he felt stuck in their marriage, and he was sure that Y/n didn’t mean it when she said she never loved him. But they’d said those things anyway, and the words had cut so deep that they’d been ripped apart.

But before that night, before those long months where oceans of distance seemed to exist between them, there was an unmatched union. There was nearly a decade’s worth of happiness and an insurmountable amount of love. The kind of love that people dreamed about, the kind that John would have protected with his life,  the kind that he’d remember long after he’d left the walls that he used to call home. 

Giving the bedroom one last glance as he broached the ajar door, John felt a familiar sting at his eyes, accompanied with a pull in his chest. Part of him was being ebbed away, carved out so it would stay in that house, with her. It was the part of him that they'd caught in pictures still mounted to the cool beige walls; the part of him that would always love her. That little slice of his soul, hopefully, would find its home in the part of Y/n that still loved him. As John pulled the door shut behind himself, hoisting the final duffle bag up on his shoulder, the thought roused the slightest smile. It was nice to think that even if their marriage had been reduced to packed bags and a couple of hefty lawyer fees, there was still something that would remain untouched and untarnished by the pressure of time; their memories. 

When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs, John found that Y/n was still stationed right where he left her, on the living room sectional. Except then, she was armed with a glass of red, the bottle discarded on the glass coffee table, while on her lap laid open something familiar; a book he’d made her, to fill with pictures their best moments, “I thought you’d already that boxed up, I know you said you wanted to move some of that stuff to the garage.”

“I was going to,” Y/n looked up at him, eyes rimmed red and with tear streaked cheeks, “But it didn’t feel right, it kind of felt like I was trying to forget.”

Furrowing his brows, John let the bag slide down his arm, falling onto the hardwood floor with a soft thump, “Weren’t you?” He inquired, with no malice or harshness, but with a softness that he hadn’t used with her in a while.

“No,” Y/n shook her head, “Do you want to sit for a while? Have a drink with me?” He could tell she was trying to seem nonchalant, but her tired eyes pleaded with him and John couldn’t resist anyway. After packing himself up, the last thing he wanted to do was go sit in the condo he’d bought, it was empty and lonely. 

“Sure, I’ll go get a glass.” As he left for the kitchen, John thought he caught a wistful smile on her part. He was the only person in the world that knew the house as well as she did. It was their home after all. Upon his return, Y/n scooted to give him a spot next to her, proceeding to fill his glass afterwards. “I remember this,” he mused, glancing at the picture, “New Years.”

“Our first one together, yeah,” Y/n’s finger ghosted the corner of the photograph, and John thought that if he closed his eyes, he could still taste the champagne on her tongue and see the breathless smile she’d worn when they broke their lengthy kiss. “That night was the first time you said……”

“That I loved you……I remember,” John smiled fondly. She’d thrown a party on the rooftop of her apartment building, they’d both had so much to drink. Yet, like the kiss, he remembered it perfectly; her laugh, the way she’d shivered when a chilly, winter breeze passed over the city and how she’d leaned into his embrace when he put an arm around her. The words, they’d come so readily, without him having to think of it, it was a random truth, something he’d been feeling for a while before then and saying it, even for the first time, was second nature. He loved her; the way she giggled at the most mundane occurrences, every little quirk and even the tiniest things that others never noticed. He loved the way she felt in his arms, the way his name sounded on her lips, the way she made him happier than he’d ever been.

Sitting there, on that familiar sofa, the one he used to lay on with Y/n curled against his chest while their favorite movies played, John combated their good memories like he would any other enemy. Of course, she’d made him happy, and he’d done the same for her, but he and Y/n were at a road’s end. “I wanted to say it first,” she broke his thoughts, still staring down that picture. He’d made her that book, as an anniversary present after their first year together, it was one of her most prized treasures. Above the jewelry and the expensive trips, she’d always loved that leather bound photo album the most.  

“What?” He probed meekly.

“I wanted to say it first,” Y/n repeated. “I’d been thinking about it for weeks before that night, but we’d only been together for a couple months, and I didn’t wanna scare you off.”

Taking a chance, John placed his palm on her knee, rubbing his thumb along the rough fabric of her jeans, “It doesn’t matter who said it first,” his words were soft and her eyes reflected the lost affection that he held in his, “What matters is everything that came after.”

Skipping a couple of pages, Y/n flipped to an achingly fond memory; the two of them, on the roof of the Continental, right after their wedding ceremony. She was wearing the same dress he’d been thinking off earlier, that simple ivory one with lace flowers sewn sparsely about the fine satin, that sported an adorable tea length skirt that opened out like something of a fairytale when John had spun her during their very first dance as husband and wife. “Like this,” he mused, scanning the page filled with other memories from that day. The moment they’d cut the cake and she’d kissed frosting off his cheek, when she’d tossed her bouquet of red and white roses to the small gathered crowd and then one from the end of the evening, when most of the guests had dispersed and they’d taken one final picture, shot from behind, with his suit coat draped over her shoulders and Y/n tucked into side as they looked out at the sky, She’d pulled him in that night and then every other that they’d spent together until their separation. 

“You’ll find that again,” Y/n sniffled, laying her hand over his, still stationed on her knee. The comfort that the gesture brought was the same soothing warmth that every other touch of hers had. At least that hadn’t changed. “And she’ll be…..she’ll be amazing, I hope…..” Blinking away tears, Y/n glanced away, “I hope you love her, and she loves you, as much as we loved each other in the beginning. And I hope it lasts forever.”

Was she really willing to let him go that easily? Because John knew that it wasn’t the same for him, and as selfish as it was, he knew that he was dreading the day when Y/n found someone to replace him. “Do you really mean that?” He gasped sharply, restraining the glassy sting in his eyes. 

Her lips quivered and all it took was the slightest flutter of her lashes for the first tears to break free. “No,” she broke down, breath catching loudly as Y/n still struggled to contain her sobs, “No, I don’t.” Reaching out, she laid a hand on his hollowed cheek, heaving, heavy breaths dominating her chest, “I’m so sorry.”

Leaning over, letting the book fall haplessly to the rug, John gathered Y/n’s shaking frame in a hug, finally crying with her. Her heart thumped erratically against his chest and her embrace was one he’d missed. “I’m sorry too,” he smoothed his hand over her hair and she burrowed into his neck. John’s lungs burned and he knew for certain that he’d never cried like that. Sure, there were quiet tears on the night they’d decided to separate, then a few sobs muffled with his fists after he’d signed the papers. But that evening, in the dim living room, the tears felt like acid raining down on his cheeks, his throat felt like it had been set ablaze and there weren’t any amount of deep breaths that he could take to remedy the tightness in his chest. 

They stayed like that for a while, tears drenching their clothes and when they finally pulled away, still caught in tangled arms, John suspected that his eyes and nose were just as red and as swollen as Y/n’s. Still, she was so beautiful, and because old habits die hard, he leaned in and she let him. Y/n let John get so close that he could smell the wine on her breath and almost feel the air parting her lips. 

One last kiss. 

It tasted just as he suspected the last one would, like unmatched and indescribable pain. No bullet, bruise or knife could inflict an ache so severe. And in an attempt to quell the hurt, John tried to go in for another, but that time, her arms deserted his broad frame. “We shouldn’t,” she admonished, scooting backwards on the sofa.

Desperate, John reached out, brushing some hair away from her face, “Why not?”

“Because,” she sighed heavily, slumping her shoulders, “Every time I see you, I miss you-"

"But I'm right here," he caressed the side of her face, knowing better than to be hopeful but throwing caution to the wind and doing it anyway, "It doesn't have to end like this."

"It does," her voice broke, and pulling away reluctantly, Y/n stood, taking a deep breath, "I know you might think you haven't, but you've changed, John. And I know when you look at me, you see that I've changed too. We're not the people we used to be. And I still love you, I do, but I'm in love with the man I met all those years ago, and you're still holding onto to the woman I used to be. And that's okay, cause somewhere, in the past, in our memories, they still have each other. But us, we can't do that. We can't expect to hold onto parts of each other that are gone, after we've grown into the people we are now. I know it doesn't make sense, and I hate it," her voice dropped to a sorrowful whisper, "But it won't be fair to either of us if we go on and forget the reason why we decided to split up in the first place."

As he stood letting the coffee table act as a barrier between them, John down casted his head, "You're right," he admitted even if it was eating away at him. Ready to say his final goodbye, John headed towards his bags, still sitting under the threshold of the room. "For what it's worth," he turned to her after he'd collected his things, a fresh set of tears gathering in his eyes, matching the moisture in Y/n's pretty orbs, "I still love you too." 

They lingered, eyes locked for a moment, before John turned to leave again, and during his walk to the front door, a pin could drop in the basement and one would hear it from upstairs. It was the eerie quiet before the storm, and as John pulled the front door shut behind himself, the rains came and even from outside, he could hear Y/n's gasped sobs echo around the house, complimenting the stifled ones he'd try to deny himself as he got in his car. 

********

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[wornoutmouse]

Illumi x black Y/N

JUST OCCURRED TO ME I NEVER UPDATED MY ILLUMI STORY ON HERE?!??!

It was the next day when Illumi came home and all night you had to force yourself to ignore the phone calls that came throughout the night. "Y/N I brought you breakfast." you could vaguely hear the monotone voice through your sleepy state. Sitting up you wipe your eyes and look around the room before finally taking in the food in front of you. You blink slowly as you take in the large egg in front of you.

It was about 2 feet tall and larger than your own head with speckled spots all around it. "Illumi what the hell is this?" Illumi blinked at you, "A boiled egg, I heard it is popular among you people." he replies, taking out a spoon and whacking the top of the egg at light speed. All at once, the egg was made up of cracks before they all fell lightly around the egg itself.

"You people? What does that mean" you glared at him, arms folded. Illumi looked at you blankly before closing his eyes and standing up, "Isn't it obvious? Americans." You looked at him for a while, questioning the life choices that lead up to this moment. "Are you going to eat this with me?" you asked poking the large food product with a fork provided by Illumi's brother from your last meal. Illumi shook his head, "No I ate two weeks ago I'm quite full."

At this point, you didn't have any desire to question it as you pierced your egg with your fork eating it. You were surprised at the abundance of taste it held without having any noticeable sauce or seasoning on it. "This is amazing!" you said digging in the egg savoring every bite. Illumi took out a notepad and scribbled something down. "What's that?" you ask, eyes lighting up as you finally made it to the yolk. "Notes my mother gave to me in order to make you accept this family as your own. Step 1: Take them, easy enough. Step 2: a way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Illumi looked up to you with what you could only guess to be pride.

"Did you just call me a man?" you asked blandly suddenly wanting to throw something at the skinwalker. "As far as I can see, you carry no masculine features but even if you did, my family has ways of making it work." Illumi says gesturing at the pins adorning his green vest. You internally shiver at the sight of them as you think back to the night you two met. "Why wouldn't you answer my calls?" Illumi asks, black eyes peering down at you as if they could swallow you whole. "Why did you call me while you were inside someone. Aren't I supposed to be your wife?" you questioned sarcastically licking your lips and setting the plate to the side.

You had only finished about 1/8 of the egg but you felt as if your stomach would implode on itself. You jump as you see a pale hand planted on the bed next to you. You gaze up at Illumi as he looks down at you, seemingly to take in all your features. "Would you prefer I were inside you?" You squeal jumping up and out of the bed falling onto the floor. "Where did that come from!?" you yelled pointing an accusing finger at Illumi as he walked around the bed towards you.

"Although I would prefer our lovemaking to be only when conceiving a child, I do not mind indulging in your fantasies." He says sliding a nail down the middle of his vest opening it up to reveal a green shirt underneath. "You stay right there slender man! Touch me and it's on sight!" you say wielding your fork as if it were a weapon. "Onsight? But I can see you just fine, are you perhaps blind?" You look at him with distaste as you stand up lazily throwing the fork in his direction. “You’re so weird.”

Illumi looked like a kicked puppy, “I don’t know what was strange, you chose to insinuate that you were jealous of me giving physical pleasure to another woman.” There was a knock on the door and a tall man with a mustache walked in. “What is it Gotoh?” Illumi asks, facing the man. Gotoh takes in your disheveled appearance and Illumi’s rare lack of that ugly ass jacket and smirks. “Look OG I don't know what you're thinking but that ain’t it.” you say rolling your eyes before walking into a closet to see what you could possibly wear.

Illumi looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “What is an Oh Gii? Is it a term of endearment?” You look at Illumi for a while before giving him a thumbs-up, “Yeah totally.” Gotoh pushed his glasses up doing his best to contain his amusement. “Your mother and father request a meeting with you and your fiance.” Illumi nods and Gotoh takes his exit.

You pull out an outfit that looks similar to what Illumi was wearing but instead of green it was red. “That'll work.” you mutter flinching as you feel arms wrap around your waist and you feel Illumi rest his head on your shoulder. “I am quite fond of you Oh Gee.”

You have to close your eyes and take deep breaths in order to keep in the laughter threatening to exit your lips.

Much to Illumi’s outward displeasure yet obvious pleasure, you and him were wearing the same thing. Although his vest was tightly hugging your chest and the pants were getting ready to bust from your ass. You two walked down the corridor in silence as you took in the navy blue walls that adorned the hallways. “I mean, knowing what you people do I wasn't expecting to see any loving family photos but how do ya’ll not get depressed with all this nothingness.” Illumi gazes forward but pulls out a small parchment. “I prefer to carry family memories.”

Illumi holds out a small photo to you. You look at it and it appears to be a child Illumi with his father in the woods. Ordinarily, this would be a sweet and endearing photo if not for the fact that Illumi was covered in blood splatter. “This was my first kill.” You quickly handed back the photo and chuckled awkwardly. “How cute a child murderer.” Illumi nodded, “Grandma thought so too.”

You silently prayed that someone, anyone would come to get you from this nightmare.

Illumi opens the double doors and allows you to walk in first. The room was much more lively than the halls but still managed to not look out of place. The room was a deep orange with golds everywhere from the linen to very abstract paintings placed in gold frames.

Sitting on a large pillow was Illumi’s mother and if they had your way, your mother-in-law. Illumi’s father of course sat next to her, broad-chested and overall intimidating. “I bet his dick is small.” you mutter trying to ignore how fast Illumi turned his head to gaze at you.  “Illumi my son, come, come, sit!’ The woman cried, throwing her arms in the air in a welcoming manner. Illumi sat down.

You continued to stand because there was no obvious pillow for you to sit on. “Umm.” you scratched the back of your head before walking close to Illumi to sit. “No need for you to sit my dear, you will be leaving soon anyway.” you raised your eyebrow at that and couldn’t help but feel a chill go down your back. “W-What does that mean sir?” you ask. To your left, a small man in a lab coat walked from behind a door holding a clipboard. “We are ready sir.” he says not looking at you the entire time

“Y/N can you please go with him.” Illumi orders not even giving room for objection. You put your hand on your hip slapping away the hand the little man offered to you. “Like hell, I’m just going with Dr. Frankenstein over here without having any information!” Illumi sighed, having the audacity to look embarrassed. “You chose yourself a feisty one, my son.” Silva chuckled looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you thoroughly uncomfortable.”Illumi!” you warned, tapping your foot on the carpet. “More like obnoxious.” you could hear Kikyo mutter but you were too pressed with Illumi to care.

“It is understandable Illumi, I’m sure she would be more comfortable with her husband present during the examination.” You tapped your foot faster, getting anxious at the words 'examination.'

After a long pause, Illumi get’s up and follows you into the next room. This room was ordinarily dull. The floor was hardwood but the walls seemed to be adorned with expensive fabrics. “Miss if you will, can you roll up your shirt so I can draw blood.” You jerk your head at Illumi who simply looked blankly at you.

Seeing no other choice you roll up your sleeve but before the doctor could put the needle within you, you freaked out and stopped him before holding your hand out to Illumi. Illumi looked at your hand before recognition set in his eyes. He leaned forward and gave you a high-five. “My brother Killua taught me that.” You put a tight smile on your face before reaching over and grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Illumi’s head satisfied as it hits him square in the jaw.

“No dumbass, hold my hand.” you responded. Illumi opened his mouth to say something but decided against it before taking your hand into his. Illumi’s hands were unsurprisingly cold considering how pale he was. The fingers were thin, long, and too delicate to belong to someone that takes lives for a living. You couldn’t quite help but laugh at how your skin tones concentrated so drastically, it was almost comical.

Before you knew it the blood work was done but you still didn’t let go of Illumi’s hand fearing what was to come next. “Please take off your clothes.” You Look at the doctor for a second before slowly sliding out of the chair and bolting for the door. Before you could make it you feel the neck of your vest being jerked back. “Don’t make this difficult please.” Illumi sighed.

“Hey you're not the one being asked to strip in a strange place.” Illumi shook his head, “Would you like it if I striped you instead of the doctor?” You smacked him on the back of his head, “No with your weird-ass!”

In the end, you kicked Illumi outside and found yourself propped up in a chair as the doctor took swabs in your cooter much to your discomfort. Illumi comes back in by the time you finally put your pants on and you follow him and the doctor back to the original room.

“How did it go doctor?” Silva asks and as you come closer you notice a large pillow sat out for you. “I’ll have you know my findings are quite peculiar. This woman seems to be a second nen ability within her but it’s dormant. This only happens with twins when one consumes the other.” You knew this fact, your momma always joked about how you were so hungry as a child that you ate your sister. “And what else.” Kikyo said, opening a hand fan impatient. “Is the girl barren and therefore of no use to us?!”

“Oh you won’t have to worry about Illumi’s ability to produce children, this woman is extremely fertile. In fact, I’m sure all it would take would be one time. There is also a high chance they could produce a white-haired offspring.” Your eyes widened, Kids? What the hell are they talking about, it’s been 3 days do you not get a got damn orientation? Silva held his chin in thought, “Though I do not doubt Killua’s loyalty, it’s always good to have a backup.”

You stood up and headed out the door as fast as you could, fists clenched. “Back up my ass, I ain’t having no brat with any of you people!” You walk down the hall, having no intention in mind highly doubting that you could make it to any exit without this damned family allowing you to. “Who the hell are you?” You hear a voice down the hall coming from a small boy with white hair. ‘This must be Killua.” You thought as you continued to walk past him, “A bad bitch who doesn't need no weird-ass fish-eyed man.”

Before you take another step, you hear a loud sound coming towards you, “Get out of the way!” Killua said, pushing you against the wall. There is a loud crack then footsteps, “Hello Killua.”  You heard Illumi’s monotone voice say as he comes to be in front of you. Reaching above your head, Illumi picks out one of his pins from the wall behind you. “The hell was that Illumi!’ both you and Killua yell out, pointing an accusatory finger at the man in question.

“I see you’ve met my bride.” Illumi continues ignoring the situation. “It was good to see you again, finally tired of your ‘friend’?” Killua scoffed, “No, I’m here because dad called me.” he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets and walking away, “Hey!” you look up at Killua who had his hand raised in a wave, “Sorry for your loss.”

Illumi crowds you back into your shared room with more force than necessary. “Hey watch it!” you snap shaking your shoulder out of his grip. “You embarrassed me in front of my mother.” He replied blandly. You roll your eyes, “Well sorry for you pretty boy, but I have bigger fish to fry.” Illumi looked around the room slowly, “I swear to god if you say-” “What fish?” You groan plopping on the bed burying your face into the sheets.

In your own world, you ignore the feeling of the bed sink, but you do not ignore the crotched pressed into your ass. “What in the hell do you think your doing nigga?!’ you say not in the mood whatsoever. “What is a ni-” you swing your hand behind you and attempt to slap Illumi in the face only for him to grab it and press it into the sheets above you. You begin to feel uneasy, “What are you doing fish eyes!?” You attempt to lift your hips but he secured them with his own. “Considering the results, I say that now is a perfect time to start consummating.

[alwaysmychoices]

Contamination

Here is my Chapter 10 rewrite. I hope I did it justice.

Synopsis: When Charlie makes a chilling discovery about Senator Farrugia’s illness, lives are put at risk...

Chapter 16 of the “With and Without” series

Previous Series: “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 4.7k

Rating: T (language)

That morning, the sun was bright. The world was good, and Charlie was happy.

Ethan woke her with a kiss and an offer of coffee, but she refused and bought a steaming cup from the coffee shop a block from the hospital. Before her shift began, she cozied up in Kyra’s hospital room, and together, they laughed like they didn’t fear it would be the last time.

“So, what did you get up to last night?” Kyra asked, eyeing Charlie’s latte with envy, “And if you tell me you watched Netflix from your bed, you need a better life.”

“I actually didn’t go home last night,” Charlie admitted cheekily, and to her delight, Kyra reacted with scandalized enthusiasm.

“You’re kidding?” Kyra leaned closer, eager for every little detail, “You have to tell me everything.”

Charlie would have – even who it was with – but she didn’t get the opportunity. Her gossip stood no chance against Bryce’s authority.

“It’s time,” he announced, knocking on the door belatedly with a solemn stare. He was smiling, but it was more resolved than happy. He was ready for surgery, not goodbye.

Charlie promised herself not to cry, so she hid her flash of concern in the act of straightening her white coat. Her eyes were sad as she took Kyra in, but she refused to say a word. Kyra was ready, and Charlie didn’t feel right adding any crack in her armor. She loved her friend enough to take a deep breath, smile, and hug her good luck.

“Give me all the sordid details tonight,” Kyra demanded.

“Every single one,” Charlie affirmed, “Even the parts you don’t want to know.”

This made Kyra laugh, and that was enough for Charlie to feel compelled to keep her promise.

As Charlie walked out of the hospital room, she came to Bryce’s side, and in all seriousness, she said, “Take care of her, Lahela.”

“If I mess up, the only person that will hate me more than you would be me,” Bryce gave a single, concerned glance in Kyra’s direction. It was the only one he allowed himself for the day, and once it was over, he assumed his bravado by adding, “Besides, look at me. I don’t even know how to make a mistake.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, but she felt safer with Kyra in his care. She wished them both a bit of final good luck and a goodbye, and then she walked out.

And as she walked away, despite everything, she felt light – like everything would be okay, like this story had a happy ending.

It was the last time she would feel that way for a long time.

Charlie started her shift with rounds and scheduled her patients so that she could squeeze in time to check on Kyra’s surgery from the observation room. She wasn’t even thinking of Senator Farrugia when Danny approached her.

There wasn’t much to think about. After Charlie discovered his lead poisoning, her most difficult patient was finally off the agenda. Instead of bothering the diagnostics team with questions or observations, he stayed in his hospital room, making calls, taking interviews, and answering emails. He was so busy trying to monopolize the publicity that his difficulty manifested in his refusal to follow his treatment plan if it didn’t suit his schedule for the day. Listening to him work made Charlie’s stomach churn. Every day he stayed in Edenbrook was another day that he exposed a new, corrupt facet to his personality. More than once, Charlie and Ethan stood outside his door, wondering if stealing him from Mass Kenmore was worth it.

“Charlie?” Danny approached her, a test result in his hand, “I have the results from Senator Farrugia’s paint samples. You marked them as urgent.”

Charlie briefly abandoned her charts to accept the results, but when she read them, her face twisted with confusion.

“Are you sure these are the right results?” Charlie asked distractedly, reading the paper over and over again as if it would change the contents.

“I double-checked,” Danny affirmed, wearing a matching look of bewilderment, “They’re right… I don’t know how, but those paint samples tested negative.”

That wasn’t the answer Charlie wanted, but she trusted Danny too much to doubt him.

If it wasn’t the paint, what could be poisoning Senator Farrugia?

Charlie thanked Danny. With a heavy sigh, she collected her charts and walked to the diagnostic’s office for further research.

So much for her break…

Charlie didn’t know where to start, so when she logged on to the computer, she ran a general search for the senator. She flagged anything about trips or notable habits, looking for any clue of contamination. Most of this information had already been studied during their preliminary search, but at that time, they weren’t looking for lead. Even under the new lens, she was able to throw out most of the news stories.

The further she went, the less clear it became.

Senator Farrugia lived in a new, high-end condo in D.C. The area had no reported lead problem, and the building was too new for lead paint or lead pipes. She had already called up all of his regular haunts in the capital, and none had any helpful information. His life in Massachusetts was limited to his office, his home, and the farmer’s market he frequented for publicity. None were insightful.

She searched the internet until Farrugia’s name had the title Mayor preceding it.

 Charlie stumbled on a story from a decade earlier, when 3 died from lead pipes poisoning the water supply. She made a note to test his pipes in his home, and she clicked on the article for more information.

That was when she saw the photo of 13-year-old Jonathan Perry. The young boy was smiling for his school picture, all braces and excitement. He was the youngest victim of the lead poisoning, and there was something eerily similar about his pale skin and thin features. And the name…

Perry.

Like Travis.

On a hunch, Charlie googled Jonathan Perry. There wasn’t much to find – his old social media page, which was full of messages of condolences after his death, a news story about his middle school soccer team’s victory at state, and an obituary. She clicked on the sparse obituary. In lieu of flowers, the family requested donations for the local children’s hospital. They also used the same school photo as the newspaper article used.

Charlie skimmed the article, making an effort to remain doubtful.

But she knew.

She knew before she even read the last sentence.

“Jonathan Perry is survived by his parents – Deborah and Samuel Perry – and an older brother, Travis.”

Charlie’s blood ran cold, and she read the sentence again.

The second the thought – the horrible, terrible suspicion – crept in, Charlie jumped up and rushed to the senator’s room.

Charlie spent years reliving these moments. All in all, it was ten minutes at most, but they were replayed so many times that each second was accounted for. Charlie found every “what if” until they each tortured her.

What if she hadn’t rushed in? What if she had waited? What if she called Ethan and asked him what to do?

What if she just let Senator Farrugia die?

Would her friends still be alive?

Would she still be haunted?

But on that day, at that moment, she had none of those thoughts.

She just needed to get to Travis before something terrible happened.

Outside of Senator Farrugia’s hospital room, she found Bobby Gunderson, the security guard, talking with Raf about his upcoming move to Brazil. They were happy. They wouldn’t be once she spoke to them.

“Have you seen the senator’s assistant? Travis?” Charlie interrupted their conversation frantically. She looked between them both for a reply, though Bobby was really the only one who knew Travis. He had been assigned to Senator Farrugia off and on for the last week, and his dislike for the senator was matched by his disinterest in Travis. He never laughed at Bobby’s jokes, and Bobby took that as a sign of flawed character.

Bobby, understandably, was the one to answer Charlie. He looked startled by her, and she began to wonder if her anxiety was visible.

How could it not be?

She was on her way to confront an attempted murderer. She wasn’t prepared for this. She was terrified of being too late but also facing him at all.

“He’s inside with the senator,” Bobby replied, hoping that he would get an explanation in return. She didn’t immediately offer one.

“The weasel-looking guy? He was acting weird,” Raf chimed in, equally concerned by Charlie’s strange demeanor. He knew her well enough to know that he had never seen her like this.

He’s inside.

Charlie’s heart rate accelerated. The blissful morning turned sour, and every passing second felt more serious, the consequences direr. The stakes were higher now. Charlie felt young and inexperienced as she tried to do all the right things.

Nothing prepared her for this. She suspected a man of poisoning her patient. This was a man she had known for weeks, one that she had commiserated with over long nights working on Farrugia’s case. He seemed friendly and helpful. Now, he was dangerous. And he was on the other side of the door, potentially close to another murder attempt.

The moment she heard that Travis was inside, she started walking to the door. Panic clouded her vision until all she saw was Travis and the senator and that door. Turning to Bobby, she said, “Bobby, we need to call the police for a suspected poisoning and attempted murder of a public official.”

Bobby’s face dropped, and wordlessly, he joined her as they barreled for Senator Farrugia’s door. He radioed the call in immediately.

As Charlie twisted the handle, she didn’t notice Raf walk in with them. For a long time, she wondered if she would have stopped him if she would have noticed, but she likely wouldn’t have. And even if she had told him to stay away, he wouldn’t have listened.

The hospital room was calm and quiet, save for Ed Farrugia’s typing on his keyboard. Danny was at the end of the bed, perusing Ed’s chart and making notes in the top corner. Travis was closer to the senator, standing right next to Ed’s bed as he fished through a backpack Charlie had never seen before.

Once the door opened, Charlie’s anxious energy flooded the room, and all three looked to the group in surprise. Everyone was looking at them, but Travis’s eyes stayed on Charlie.

“Dr. Greene?” Danny asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“What’s going on?” Farrugia echoed, pausing his typing.

Charlie didn’t look to either of them because she never dropped Travis’s stare. She watched realization dawn on him, and his brown eyes filled with understanding. He almost seemed to revel in it, like he wanted to stop hiding. Like a curtain falling to reveal the light, cruelty was exposed, and it made Charlie shiver.

At that moment, she had no doubts about Travis.

She knew he was guilty, and she knew he was dangerous.

“Mr. Perry, we would like to speak to you. If you come with us, we can resolve this quickly,” Bobby’s voice was authoritative now. It was a little intimidating, even. Travis didn’t flinch.

“Dr. Greene, are you sure?” he was still looking at Charlie.

She felt disgusted by his attention. He made the question seem intimate, like they were in on some big secret. Never had her name sounded so vile.

“Officer Gunderson asked you to step away from the senator, Travis,” Charlie was firm and her gaze resolved. Travis’s face hardened.

“Why?” Ed asked incredulously. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, and he certainly didn’t like the tension in the room. He had a virtual interview in fifteen minutes, and he didn’t need the distraction.

Travis knew that he had been discovered, so with unreserved harshness, he turned to his long-time boss and answered, “Probably because I’ve been poisoning you.”

As angry as he looked, Travis seemed relieved with his admission. Ed gasped and instinctively jolted away from his aide as he mumbled a weak, “W… what?”

Bobby moved towards Travis just as Ed decided to get away from him. While the senator scrambled out of his bed and hurried towards the door, Bobby held out his hand, expecting to apprehend the young man as he said, “Alright, come with me…”

Travis didn’t even look at Bobby. All he saw was Farrugia running for the door.

In a wild panic, Travis reached inside of his bag to retrieve a black canister, and he brandished it as a weapon, pointing it to each and every person in the room as he demanded, “STOP!”

Everyone obeyed.

They had never seen a canister like that, but the way Travis held it commanded fear and trepidation. It appeared sinister, even from across the room.

Travis looked at them all but mainly Ed as he screamed, “Stand back! I mean it!”

Farrugia, who had almost escaped before Travis’s threat, took one cautious step in the direction of his aide. He didn’t come too close because he wanted the option to run. With his hands up in a pleading gesture, Farrugia urged Travis, “Travis… think about what you’re doing. Please…”

“Think about what I’m doing?” Travis repeated with disbelief, “What do you think I’ve been doing for all these years? From the moment we met, I’ve only been thinking of this.”

Travis waved the canister in Ed’s direction, eyes growing hard as his finger curled around the trigger.

“Travis!” Charlie interrupted, startling him just enough that his grip on the trigger lessened.

She couldn’t hear her thoughts for her heartbeat. She hardly remembered how to speak, let alone what to say. Her eyes kept drifting back to the canister, which was still dangerously aimed in her direction. She felt it watch her, like it was preparing for something horrid.

She felt everyone watch her.

And as Travis granted her his attention, the pressure prickled at her skin.

“This won’t bring your brother back,” Charlie said gently.

“You think I don’t know that?” Travis scoffed, “I will never get my brother back. I’ve lived with that since I was fifteen, and that knowledge destroyed my family. It destroyed my parents, and it destroyed me.”

His finger was back on the trigger, his hand shaking with the concentration needed to keep from pulling it. One slip and they would all find out what made Travis so confident in his weapon.

“Travis, let’s talk about this,” Charlie begged, refusing to look at the canister and instead looking for some sliver of humanity left in her opponent. If she could just find the right words, she could end this.

She could save everyone in this room.

She truly believed she could. Charlie believed in the world. She believed that tragedy and pain had an end. She believed that happy endings could be found if you worked hard enough.

She believed she would walk out of that room traumatized but otherwise unscathed.

She was wrong.

“No,” Travis refused, almost laughing at her, “There’s nothing to talk about. If I leave this room, I’m going to jail, which will be the end of it. And Dr. Greene, you don’t know the details of this story, but I’ll tell you how it ends. Ed Farrugia doesn’t survive.”

Travis surveyed the hospital room. He eyed Farrugia, who was just waiting to be out of his line of sight so he could run. Then, he looked to the four bystanders who had wandered into his plan.

“It’s unfortunate that four others will have to die as well,” Travis mused.

“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Charlie was shaking. Something was breaking inside of her. Maybe it was hope that they could leave this room, or perhaps it was faith in all that was good in the world. She begged for his humanity, but it felt too distant. “Please, you don’t want to hurt us. You don’t even know us. Travis, we have nothing to do with this. And you know you’ll regret it. Please.”

Travis offered a sympathetic shake of the head, “Charlie, you didn’t have to do this. You could have let him die. You know who he is. You know what he does. You know that his policies kill people. Don’t you see that you’re complicit? Not just in what I’m doing but in what he does!” Travis frowned in disgust, “You could have stayed quiet!”

“I couldn’t do that,” Charlie managed, fear gripping her so tight that even small words were shaky and uncontrolled.

She had lost control of herself. She had lost him, too.

Travis shrugged, “I hope your conscience is enough for you, then.”

Everyone knew they were in a final hour, that whatever was coming was so close that it breathed down their neck.

That was why Bobby stepped forward.

“Dr. Greene is right,” Bobby asserted, “Come with me before anyone gets hurt.”

And this was what Charlie lived a thousand times over – until she recounted the sound of Bobby’s step on the linoleum towards Travis and the inhale of Rafael to her side as he held his breath. It was never any less painful to experience the moment before it all unraveled. At best, it was numb. Today though, it was blisteringly agonizing.

Bobby reached for Travis, but his grip wasn’t strong enough. Travis pulled free, and without a thought or a word, he pulled the trigger on the canister. An aerosol gas released in a puff in Bobby’s face. There was a horrible, aching strangling sound as Bobby fell to his knees. He coughed violently, choking on the gas and his own breath. He gargled and thrashed in pain until he was on his back.

Charlie moved towards Bobby, but Danny made it there first. Instinctively, he pressed his fingers to Danny’s artery in his neck. An oily sheen covered Bobby and spread to Danny’s hands.

“Charlie, he’s going into cardiac arrest!” Danny yelled, already beginning the chest compressions.

They didn’t have time, and they didn’t have the equipment. Charlie belatedly realized that she was screaming into the hall for equipment, but she never finished the sentence. She was running to Bobby when she came face to face with Travis, who wielded the canister in her direction. She froze, the words dying on her lips.

“At least I’m not the only one with blood on my hands,” Travis sneered, and he began to pull the trigger.

In the split second before the gas was released, Charlie couldn’t move. There wasn’t time to run, not that she really thought to. Her vision was clouded with tears, but she could see the barrel pointed at her. And for it was worth, she accepted her fate.

She didn’t want to die, but she knew she would.

And for her last thought, she wished she had told Ethan that she loved him.

It wasn’t her last thought, though.

“Ahh!” Charlie cried as she was shoved to the side. She fell to the floor in an uncoordinated heap, and she looked up just in time to see Raf tackle Travis to the ground. They landed with a heavy thud, and Raf scrambled for the canister.

What followed was blind panic.

Gas filled the room as they fought for the canister. It spilled out of their grasp, and spinning in the middle of the room, it coated everyone but Charlie with a layer of oil. Charlie coughed as it infiltrated her lungs, burning and stabbing as it went.

Danny frantically tried to resuscitate Bobby as Raf fought to subdue Travis. Charlie, coughing through the mist, caught Farrugia sprint out of the room and heard Travis scream in response. The scream was guttural and garbled, and it was the worst noise she had ever heard.

Clambering to sit up, Charlie looked around the chaos and tried to find the place to help, but she couldn’t. She was startled still, watching as everything fell apart.

“What was that?” Raf demanded, slamming Travis against the wall.

“I don’t know!” Travis pulled free, only to vomit into the trashcan. Raf raged until he was consumed with a cough.

Danny’s efforts to save Bobby grew weak as both Bobby’s situation grew worse and Danny’s strength gave out. Danny pulled his hands away, examining them, and he breathlessly expressed his horror, “My… my hands are covered… I’m-I’m covered.”

Charlie shielded her eyes from the sight, tears streaming down her face as she hid from the terror and distress of her dear friend.

Her gaze landed on the door, and she knew what she had to do. Crawling on the linoleum, Charlie’s back was to the plight, but she felt it every second. It consumed her. It cemented her and demanded everything until she could give nothing. She couldn’t feel it now. She engrossed herself with her mission and shoved her trauma and her pain and her fear and her guilt out of her mind.

Charlie reached the door just as Ethan could be seen in the window. He walked towards the room with the innocence of a man who didn’t yet know that the world was ending.

Charlie wanted to run to him. She wanted him to save her.

But instead, she slammed the door closed.

Ethan’s confusion settled into surprise and concern, and with each step, he felt it mount. By the time he reached the door, he was terrified. He watched Charlie’s face – stained red from tears and eyes bloodshot. She shook, and he saw her ragged breath as she struggled against a burning cough.

And he pulled on the door handle, but she was holding it shut.

His Charlie.

His Charlie is not okay.

He pulled on the door harder, demanding to be let inside. He had no reasonable thought, only a visceral instinct to protect her and save her from whatever horrors were inside.

“What is going on?” Ethan pulled even harder, but she focused all of her strength in holding that damn door shut, “Let me in, Charlie!”

“Shut down the wing,” Charlie ignored the pain in his eyes. She ignored the way he stared. She ignored that he loved her, and she pretended she didn’t love him to spare herself.

If she opened the gates now, she didn’t know what would come out, and she didn’t know if she could do what needed to be done.

“Charlotte!” he jiggled the handle desperately, banging his hand on the wooden door like it might give way if he tried hard enough.

“Travis has tried to kill the senator with an unknown gas. We have no idea what it is, but Farrugia escaped,” Charlie felt empty as she tried to stay calm. Calm meant ignoring everything, yet she cried. She hesitated, and she almost cracked. She almost fell into the pit and lost herself in the sorrow as she said, “Bobby went into cardiac arrest after getting a blast of it to his face. Danny and Raf have been sprayed with it, and I breathed it in.”

Ethan stopped jiggling the handle, his hand slack.

He didn’t want to understand.

He wanted to break the fucking door down.

“We can’t risk it getting out of this room,” Charlie hadn’t lessened her grip on the door handle. She wasn’t sure if she could. She was bonded to her station. It was all she could do to maintain control.

It was all she could do to try and save someone.

Because the someone didn’t get to be her, or Bobby, or Danny, or Raf.

But it could be Ethan. It could be anyone on this hall.

She had blood on her hands, but it stained less if she could help someone else.

Ethan’s world slipped through his fingers, but he watched her instead. Everything – nor rather nothing… it was gone.

And he ached. He burned. He suffered.

He couldn’t remember kissing her in bed this morning and slipping her out of his apartment before his dad woke. He couldn’t remember making dinner with her or wandering Boston with Charlie on his arm and Jenner on a leash.

He only saw her now. Crying. Sick. And pushing him away.

“You’re right,” Ethan whispered breathlessly and helplessly.

He was broken, and she couldn’t look.

A sob was building in her chest – a body-wracking, heartbreaking, life-changing sob. She swallowed it and fought the air to keep breathing.

In the room, Danny and Travis were vomiting. Raf comforted Danny and glared at Travis. Bobby, perfectly still, was alone now.

Charlie found an air vent, and in it, she found her next distraction. With her back still turned to Ethan, she pointed to the vent and said, “Raf, I need your help to seal that!”

She opened every cupboard until she found plastic and tape, and Raf found a pair of scissors for her to cut it to size. Raf offered her a boost, and he lifted her up to tape it off. Once he let her down, she came face to face with him, and to her surprise, she wanted to scream at him.

She couldn’t believe how fucking irresponsible he had been! What the fuck did he think he was doing endangering himself like that? Why did he have to save her? Why?

But Danny was wheezing, and Charlie didn’t yell at Raf.

Charlie fell to Danny’s side as he leaned back against the hospital bed. His face was ashen white, and every breath was labored and pained. He tried to speak, but the effort was too hard. He only managed to say, “I… I don’t feel…” He paused, and his head fell back.

“It’s okay, Danny,” she whispered and took his pulse. It was weak and slow.

A lump formed in Charlie’s throat, and she squeezed Danny’s hand as she repeated, “It’s okay, Danny.” He weekly squeezed her back.

Charlie had to look away. When she eyed Bobby, she was on the edge of collapse. She felt everything and nothing, and one felt dangerously close to consuming her. Yet, hesitantly, she crawled in his direction.

Before she even touched him, she knew she wouldn’t find a pulse.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t heartbroken when it wasn’t there.

Raf followed her, and after a diligent attempt to find Bobby’s pulse, he grimaced.

They sat in silence, too many words to say to even begin speaking. The finality and grief were palpable.

They hadn’t saved Bobby, and they never would.

Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, holding her breath until the world might make sense again. It never did, and she exhaled in defeat.

Her limbs felt heavy, like a thousand atrocities now sat on them.

She was convinced that the world would never seem the same.

And she wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She couldn’t yet. Maybe not ever.

“Did you get much on you?” Raf asked finally, his eyes still on Bobby.

“Not much,” Charlie answered. She didn’t ask about Raf because she knew he was covered. He was relieved she didn’t mention it.

Charlie looked back to the window, where Ethan was on the phone. Behind him, she could see patients and employees evacuate, and she tentatively met his gaze. Face twisted with sorrow, Charlie nodded solemnly in Bobby’s direction.

Ethan understood, and it knocked the wind of out him.

Bobby was a good man. A colleague and a friend.

And he had been exposed to the same thing Charlie had.

His rookie. His Charlie. No.

Ethan pulled the phone away from his ear, and approaching the glass, he announced that the CDC was on their way.

“You’ll be okay, Charlie,” he promised, and trying not to panic, he affirmed, “All three of you. You’ll be alright.”

He said it because it had to be true.

It had to be.

He couldn’t lose Charlie, not like this. She couldn’t leave him when he’d just found her. This kind of thing doesn’t happen. And it doesn’t happen to her. It doesn’t!

And it won’t. And it won’t hurt her!

Anyone else but her.

He didn’t care if it was the senator. He was sad if it was a colleague. He was pained if it was a friend.

But it wasn’t her.

He didn’t know how to breathe. He didn’t know how to talk. He knew how to work, and he knew he needed to save her. That had to be enough.

His darling, wonderful Charlie.

He told her that she would be alright because it had to be true.

But Charlie didn’t believe him.

note: I probably should have spent more time working on this chapter, but it came out in one emotional sitting so I decided to share it.

tag list: 

@honeyandsunfl0wers​ @jens-diamondchoices​ @desmaranj​ @octobereighth​ @flyawayboo​ @fanficnewbie​ @togetherwearerapture​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @noboundariesplease​ @paulfwesley​ @x-kyne-x​ @caroldxnvxrs​ @paisleylovergirl​

@chasingrobbie​ @soft-for-drake​ @choicesyouplayandmore​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @playchoicesheaux​ @senseofduties​ @queencarb​ @save-the-sky​ @openheart12​ @omg-its-vixen​ @odetomars​ @rookieoh​ @drakewalker04​ @mysecretlifeofdaydreams​ @delaytheinevitable​

@hopefulmoonobject​ @malvolari-take-my-soul​ @nomadics-stuff​ @the-pale-goddess​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @trappedinfandoms​ @heauxplesslydevoted​ @lilyvalentine​ @mvalentine​ @elwetritsche75​ @jessirosebud​ @lion-ess24​ @calibuckley​ @canknot​ @wonderwithrobin​ @jooous​ @eramsey28​ @binny1985​ @canigetanawwjunk​ @padfoot15​ @ermidc @beastlyinstrument​ @shanzay44​ @dulceghernandez​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @lucy-268​ @kaavyaethanramsey​

@nerdydinosaursweets​ @blossomanarchy​ @openheartthot​ @thegreentwin @akshara16​ @aestheticartsx​ @maurine07​ @mysticaurathings​ @stateofgracious @rookie-ramsey​ @endless-courtesan​ @parkerattano​

[tirkdi]

Will you continue your stupid-amazing hospital alarkling au?

Let it never be said that just because I’ve let an ask sit for years means it won’t be fulfilled. Chapter 1 is here, this is chapter 2, and it’s still half crack, so let’s not take any of it too seriously, shall we?

*

Alina had just finished buttoning up her white coat when she saw Dr. Morozova striding down the hallway, his long legs devouring the linoleum at a distressing pace.

“How was your weekend?” she asked as she fell into step beside him, her own legs doing double time to keep up. He held out a stack of folders and she instinctively reached out to take them.

“My weekend was good,” she continued, having known from the beginning that she was going to have to do the conversational heavy lifting. “A friend of mine had a birthday party and my schedule actually allowed me to attend, which was a pleasant – what are these?” The files she held were all for surgeries that they’d done over the past couple months: nothing new, nothing to prepare.

They turned a sharp corner past pediatrics before her mentor replied. “We’re presenting at a conference this week.”

“We? Presenting? This week?” Alina couldn’t manage to put all her thoughts into a question and he closed his eyes briefly in disappointment.

“We’ll be giving a presentation at the annual surgical conference. I’ve already made the arrangements. Put together the PowerPoint this evening and I’ll review it in the morning.”

“PowerPoint?”

“Keynote is fine if you prefer.”

“Oh, great. Yeah. That was my question.”

She let him walk towards the office before propping the files between her hip and the wall to allow her to fish out her phone, scrolling through her list of contacts. Who might she know that makes presentations? She didn’t have a huge repertoire of people to choose from, so it really came down to probably not a costume designer, probably yes a lawyer.

do you know how to make a power point? Alina tapped out.

o m g starkov, Zoya texted back.

could you help me make one this evening? it’s important.

do you have ANY idea what I bill at?  

I’ll provide pizza and wine, Alina offered.

and ice cream, Zoya countered.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!! Alina exhaled and shifted the files back into her arms. Zoya’s reply was a painting nails emoji followed by a hair flip emoji followed by a middle finger.

Perfect. She could get this done tonight.

*

Zoya tapped on Alina’s laptop for a minute while Alina perched nervously beside her. “You have PowerPoint installed, so that’s a good start,” the lawyer muttered. Her hair was pulled behind her ears so that her hair fell in black curls down her back, and her makeup looked as flawless as it must have first thing in the morning. Not to mention the diamonds in her ears – whatever Zoya was having, Alina wanted it.

“When is the pizza coming?” Zoya asked.

“Half an hour. Wine in the meantime?”

Zoya snorted, a you-have-to-ask response that Alina had become familiar with during their time as roommates in college. She returned with a glass of Zoya’s favorite pinot and saw that the screen of her computer was an empty white page.

“Alright,” Zoya began. “Let’s get an outline down, then we can go back and fill in what you’ll actually be saying.”

They had an outline by the time the pizza arrived. Zoya took a slice and pulled up the first slide. “You have some kind of visual you want on this?”

Alina rummaged through the file, pulled out a photo. “This is a pretty good demonstration of the issue we ran into in the surgery–”

She was interrupted by Zoya gagging to the far side of the screen. Once she had recovered, she took a long drink from her wine glass and cut a glance back to Alina, who smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I sometimes forget what it looks like to people who aren’t surgeons.”

Zoya took another drink of wine, set it down, and looked at her friend. “You owe me so much more than pizza and wine for this.”

“That’s the spirit,” Alina replied.

*

Alina forgot the hospital doors were automatic and nearly fell through them the next morning. She caught herself before she fell – barely – and when she looked up Dr. Morozova was standing there, watching her impassively.

Of course. Of course he would be there.

“The presentation looks good.”

Alina rubbed her face. She and a grumbling Zoya had worked on it until the early hours of the morning – she’d sent it to him not so many hours ago, in fact. “Oh. Great.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at seven.”

“Um. Tomorrow?”

He didn’t acknowledge her response. “It’s just one night, so no need to pack too much.”

“Overnight?”

He glanced at her. “It’s a couple hours from here. I’ve booked us rooms. Be ready tomorrow at seven.”

Alina watched him walk off, looked down at the floor. The linoleum didn’t seem to be any help. A two hour drive with her supervisor, an overnight stay at a conference, and a presentation? You can do this, Starkov. “Cool,” she said, once he’d walked off. “Cool, cool, cool. Cool.”

*

At exactly seven o’clock the next morning an impossibly nice car pulled up outside of Alina’s apartment building. She didn’t know anything about cars, but it was black, had tinted windows, and looked like it was worth more than her student debt — which was saying something.

A few moments later, the window closest to her rolled down revealing Dr. Morozova, one eyebrow raised. “Are you planning on getting in?”

“Uh.” Alina looked down at her hands, wondered if she should be wearing gloves if she was going to touch the car. But she also didn’t want to keep him waiting … Just play it cool. “Yeah,” she said. Smooth, Starkov.

The door handle didn’t disintegrate under her touch and she put her bag between her feet as she settled into the passenger side. No sooner had her seatbelt clicked than he began to drive, the ride butter-smooth beneath her. Oh, this is why people spend a crazy amount of money on cars. He shifted gears and she looked out at the tinted scenery as he lead them towards the highway.

He hadn’t said anything since she got in the car. “So,” she said, cringing even as the words left her mouth, “you go to this conference often?” At least she hadn’t asked him if he drove his own car often.

“Annually.”

Another couple minutes passed in silence. She was going to have to do all the prompting, as usual, but being alone with him in a car for two hours meant that maybe she could get to know him a little better. She cast a glance his way but his eyes were on the road ahead. “Do you have any family?” she asked.

“Everyone has a family.”

She stifled a sigh. “Siblings?”

“One.”

“Brother? Sister? Older? Younger?” He didn’t confirm any of those. “Non-binary twin?”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the road. He signaled, switched lanes. “Sister. Younger.”

Alina looked at him, trying to imagine what his features would look like on a woman. She would probably be the most stunning woman in the world. Either that or scary as hell. “Are you close?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“Would you like me to ask about your family?”

The blow, whether or not it was intended as such, landed hard. Alina looked out the window at the scenery, fighting the lump in her throat.

The silence turned out to be a blessing, though; with the car’s smooth handling, Alina fell asleep quickly.

“We’re here.” She jerked awake, rubbing saliva off of her face, wondering if Dr. Morozova had seen her drooling. “I checked us in remotely; your room key should have been sent to your phone. I’m room 416 and you’re 485.”

He opened the trunk and pulled out a small suitcase. Black, obviously. Alina shouldered her own overnight bag. “Go put your stuff down,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”

*

There were a lot more people at the conference than Alina had anticipated. It was possible that there were no surgeries happening anywhere across the United States and several other countries right now, because everyone who would have been performing them was in this room. It would have felt crowded in any case, but in this case in particular the attendees were all surgeons —  the egos pressing together were almost suffocating.

Or maybe it was the fact that she was standing in front of all these people as Dr. Morozova gave the presentation she’d put together that made her so uncomfortable. All these people could see her. At least she didn’t have to speak.

“And this last surgery was performed by my intern, Dr. Starkov. I’ll let her explain.”

He handed her the microphone and the tiny clicker to change the slide, and Alina straight up panicked. Her palms started to sweat. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

I will not scream. I will not scream. I will not scream.

The audience was looking at her — patient, expectant. They believed she had something important to share. All because of the surgeon everyone here was listening to — because he believed she had something important to share.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to begin to explain the procedure. Once she started, she found she had a lot to say.

Once she started, she did great.

*

Twenty minutes into the happy hour, Dr. Morozova materialized at her side. “I’m going back to my room.”

“As keynote speakers tend to do when there are literal crowds of people wanting their time.” When he’d made his way over, he’d pulled a bubble of people with him, several of whom did not look like they were hoping to spend their time with him discussing surgery. “Too tired of having room keys thrown at you?”

The look he cut her reminded her of a particular type of incision that required a lot of stitches. “Nothing good happens in a room full of drunk surgeons. I advise you not to stay too long, either.”

A drink and a half later, Alina was starting to suspect he was right. “You’re Dr. Morozova’s resident?” a petite woman in heavy glasses was asking her. “Wow.”

“Lucky you,” the man next to her added.

“He’s been an incredible teacher,” Alina agreed.

“Among other things, I’m guessing.” The woman raised her eyebrows at Alina.

Alina’s mind blanked out. “What?”

“I mean … ” She looked at the man next to her who gave an encouraging nod. “All that anatomy, the long nights on call …” Her look was unmistakably suggestive and Alina finally got it.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Nope. That is not a thing that is happening.” She put down her drink. “I actually think I’m going to go now.”

“Makes sense.” The woman winked at her. “Have fun.”

“I am not sleeping with my attending.”

The man and woman looked at each other and shrugged. “If not you, I wonder who he’s with now?”

“Who he’s — he’s not —” Alina left the thought unfinished. Dr. Morozova’s sex life had never crossed her mind; sure, he was absurdly good looking, but he was her mentor. And for whatever reason, she didn’t picture him coming to a conference to sleep around.

But … did he? Were they right?

“I’m going to make this an early night,” Alina said.

“Well, ‘suture’ self,” the man replied as she walked away. He and the woman beside him both laughed hilariously.

The fourth floor hallway was quiet, and she was starting to feel a little more like herself. She passed room 416, and then she stopped. She couldn’t help herself; she walked backwards a few feet to the door and knocked.

He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t answer. He must be out with one of those surgeons she’d seen him with earlier, or maybe out with a few of them. Alina was almost relieved; if he wasn’t here, if he was seeing people, then she didn’t have to make herself think about —

The door opened. “Can I help you?” Dr. Morozova asked.

Alina’s blush was fast and furious. She hoped he would assume it was from the alcohol. “Um. No. Nope!” she said. “I was just … checking?”

“Checking?”

“To see if you needed anything. Make sure you’re good to go. I was going to get some coffee.”

He leaned in closer to her and her heart sped up. What the heck? Why would it do that? It must be left over adrenaline from the speech, Alina told herself, well-aware that that was not how adrenaline worked.

“I don’t need coffee.”

“Great! Me neither.” What was happening? “Okie dokie, see you tomorrow.”

He squinted at her. “Are you alright?”

“You betcha.” She did little finger guns. This maybe she could blame on the alcohol, because even she wasn’t usually that bad. “See you later.”

She walked back to her room, and by the time she made it all the way down the hall, she’d pulled it together. She was his resident, that was it. She’d focus on learning everything from him that she could.

*

After a day of attending presentations, poster sessions, and eating terrible conference-center food, Alina was once again seated in the passenger seat beside her instructor, this time heading home. She was determined to not make it awkward.

“Why do you go to this conference every year?” she asked. “Just to speak?”

“Speaking is one reason.” He changed lanes. “I also come to learn.”

“You learned something at this conference?”

“I always do.” He glanced at her disbelief. “The day you stop learning is the day you die.”

“I don’t … ” Alina paused. “I mean, I haven’t been a doctor for as long as you have, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true.”

“Perhaps not.”

They passed a couple towns before he spoke again. “Have you thought about who you’d like to work with next year?”

The intern program at this hospital was two years long, and each year was with a different mentor. It shocked her to realize she was over halfway through her time with Dr. Morozova. She found she desperately didn’t want it to end, and his expertise was only half of the reason.

Oh, yipes. Where had that thought come from?

She coughed to stall for time. “Ummmm … I was thinking of maybe going for more of a specialty next year. Oral surgery?”

He gave a hum that was as smooth as the road beneath the car. “You could try it. I don’t think you’d like it.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t.”

The thought of him thinking them similar enough that their likes would overlap was interrupted by panic at what she at first feared was a medical emergency. It took her a few minutes to realize the weird way her heart was beating wasn’t anything like that.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

*

The week after the conference had been a busy one at the hospital, and Alina had managed to avoid Dr. Morozova without making it obvious she was doing so. At least, she hoped it hadn’t been obvious.

There was a lot she needed to work out for herself – why did thinking of him increase the temperature of her internal organs? And, maybe more importantly: what could she do about it?

If she was interested in Dr. Morozova in any sort of romantic way — which she totally, totally, was not, because a) that would be a terrible idea and b) getting involved with a higher-ranking surgeon, let alone one who was managing her, was highly-unethical-if-not-strictly-prohibited — she would run into problem c): the odds that he would be interested in her as well.

A face like his would have plenty of people to choose from, if he ever left the hospital. Probably even if he didn’t.

Whatever. She couldn’t put off talking to him any longer. She exhaled and knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

He was bent over papers at his desk and she got to observe him as he read. The planes of his face, the set of his shoulders —

“Well?”

In her observation she had failed to notice he was looking up at her. Very cool, Alina. So cool. “Oh, um, I … had a question for you.” He kept looking at her in a way that made her want to cringe and somehow now also made her want to start taking her clothes off. She shut down that animal part of her brain and soldiered on.

She cleared her throat. “I have a shift next Tuesday, and my usual backup isn’t available. I’ve been having a hard time finding anyone who could take over if I’m in a surgery and something happens so I was wondering … if you could be … if I could put you down to be the one they call. Just backup.”

He stared at her hard for a few seconds, then slumped back in his chair. “Fine,” he said. “Make me your fill-in.”

Alina barely managed to not squeal her “thank you.” She was halfway to the door when he called after her. “Take that folder before you go.”

The folder was sitting on a shelf just at her chest level. “Study those tonight. Surgery tomorrow,” her mentor said.

She opened it and found a thick stack of case notes. She looked back at him and smiled. “They just happened to be sitting here?”

“I had a feeling you might come around,” he replied, making her wonder just how much of what was going on in her head he was able to see. She could have sworn there was something in his expression that she’d never seen before, though she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“Nice to see you again, Alina.”

[pixiealtaira]

Snippet One

These are fics I need motivation on...so you get snippets

Glee and Criminal minds crossover

Spencer had only managed to set their base photos out and lay a bit of basic info onto the table in front of the first board before a small knock sounded outside the door.

“Excuse me,” a soft voiced asked from the doorway. “Officer Phillips told me I could find the people who came in from the FBI back here? Do you know if they are here yet?”

Spencer turned towards the soft voice and was surprised at who was actually standing in the doorway. First, despite the high voice, which Spencer had first assumed belonged to either a young lady or a much younger person the person in the doorway was a guy, a guy in his mid-teen at least.  The grey coat and the purple scarf weren’t exactly highly masculine cut, but Spencer, contrary to popular belief, knew enough to know that both were rather high end designer items.  The young man looked exactly that though, young…and nervous. He was fingering the strap of his bag and rocking on his heels.  

“Yes,” Spencer answered, with a sigh. “This is where we are set up.”

The boy raised his eyebrows at Spencer. “You’re an FBI agent?”

Spencer raised his right back. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

The boy chuckled.  He looped the bag off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor.  Then he looked around for a coat stand before he started to remove his grey coat.  Spencer gasped at the boy and blurted out “What the hell happened to you?”

The boy looked down and sighed.   His grey sweater and white skinny jeans were more red and blue than their original colors. The boy took his coat to the coat stand and carefully hung it up as he started to talk. “Slushies six and seven.  It’s been a long day.  This is actually outfit five.  FIVE! I will never be able to get the red out of this sweater either, since I had to sit through a whole class before even being allowed enough time to try to do anything about it!  At least the teacher let me wash my face, but look at my hair! I’ll be lucky if it hasn’t stained. I really hate Mr. Lurch, and yes, that really is his last name.  It’s not like ten minutes lost from AP World History would make it so I flunk. I am absolutely certain I hold the highest grade in there.  Of course, most shouldn’t even be in an AP class, so that doesn’t say much.  And even though I’m like the only one who knows what the man is talking about, ever, he only calls on me when he has exhausted all other options. ” Spencer smiled a little as the boy spoke.   His hands were in motion the whole time and he had a gracefulness about his movements that Spencer enjoyed watching. Spencer pulled a chair over from the other table and set it to the side of the one he’d been sitting in while pouting.  The boy kept speaking as Spencer worked.  

“So my mood was not the best anyway. I was completely infuriated when I started to head home after I was informed by the principal, who watched these last two slushy attacks happen, that I could not stay at school because the representatives from Lady Margret’s were expected at any moment and I was simply no longer dressed as a good representative from McKinley and I needed to remove myself, taking the half day of absences, from the school grounds at once. Before lunch mind you, before lunch.”

The boy was ranting now; Spencer recognized the hand on the hips and quick speech.  However Spencer also figured the boy needed the outlet, so let him continue.

“Granted, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to leading around any of the members of Lady Margret’s student council, because last year one of the girls who visited in our Science class was just plain rude, and that is saying something considering I go to McKinley and nearly everyone there is awful.  But still it was somewhat of an honor escorting that student council around, supposedly, so it would have been nice to actually have been able to do so.  I almost suspect Miss Rachel Berry to have orchestrated this last round of slushies, because now she gets to be the escort and she’d been complaining about not getting the privilege for a week and half… but I have been telling myself since slushies six and seven that there is no way she would stoop so low, and besides, it was Azimio and Rick the Stick and I don’t think she dares even speak to either for fear they’d get her first.  Of course, I also suspect the honor was originally granted because I am one of the few who can actually afford to miss a few classes without my grades reflecting a missed class and not because anyone actually wanted me to talk to anyone from any other school.  Rachel, in all her glory, is involved in a ridiculous amount of clubs and can’t miss too many more class hours, really.”  The boy paused for a moment and looked around, noting the table on the far side of the room had piles of papers and such on it and the end of the table the chairs were at had boxes that were opened lined up.  “Can I set my bag here or will that be an issue later?”

Spencer smiled. He was pleased the boy had thought and asked before acting.  “If we keep things to this end it will be fine. It’d be better if you sat on the chair I pulled over.  The one across from me is not very sturdy sounding.”

“Thank you.”  The boy’s smile was exquisite. The boy walked back to the doorway and picked up his bag, continuing talking as he did so. “Anyway... just as I was leaving the parking lot, Chip called.  So all in all, it actually turned out …well, rather perfect.”

“Perfect?”  Spencer asked.  He settled himself back into the chair he’d been pouting in earlier.

“Yes,” The boy said, “because even though no one wants to meet real life FBI agents looking like this in the long run it was a good thing, because frankly, I didn’t want to end up having to sneak in or skip school, or something else like that---things that were  likely to get me grounded, just to see you guys.”

“Grounded?” Spencer asked.

“Yes.  The Sheriff? He hates me, honestly hates me.” The boy looked Spencer up and down, had they been anywhere else Spencer would have accused the young man of checking him out. “He probably won’t like you, either.  Sorry. Are you sure you are a FBI agent?  And if you are, why are you dressed like that?  That look does absolutely nothing for you.  We could do so much better.”

Spencer sighed.

“SSA Dr. Spencer Reid.”  Spencer stood and offered his hand.  The boy’s hands were even slightly stained red.  “How did you even know we were coming?”

“Kurt Hummel.  It is a pleasure to meet you, don’t get me wrong.  It’s just; you dress more like ‘absentminded college professor’ and not like what I’ve always thought FBI agents would look like.  And, I was not thinking ‘men in black’, as hot as that would be in real life.   More like regular suits…maybe nice ties…or maybe even less formal jeans you can move fast in and Henley shirts, kind of a rugged look.  That is not to say you look like a college professor, still too young for that, but you kind of dress like one.  Although, you almost carry the look, it’s almost like…”

Kurt trailed his sentence as he looked over Spencer once again and Spencer was pretty sure the boy was picturing him in clothing he imagined more suitable for an FBI agent. He could see when a thought of why he might dress the way he did and the realization of a reason for Spencer’s clothing choices took hold of the boys mind.  Spencer suspected he had the right idea as well.

“Yeah.”  Spencer said.  

“Anyway, I knew you guys were coming because of your SUVs.  Where ever they were fetched from so does not get any merit awards for their mechanic work. It was very nearly shameful.  Chip, he worked at my dad’s garage during the summers when he was still in high school.  It was nice; he was one of the good guys.  Didn’t care that the boss’s weird son was there all the time working alongside his dad.  My dad makes sure anyone who spends time working for him knows their stuff.  So Chip knew just from the sound that those SUVs made as they rolled into the parking lot here that they needed help if they were to be safe for anything other than just the very basic use for very short distances.  He called Dad and Dad told him to bring them over.  However, it was just after closing and most Dad’s regular employees had already gone home.  So Dad called me in and I came out to work with him. I haven’t worked full hours recently, so I could work without worry about overtime or anything. And I can always use the money.  Don’t worry, I’ve been certified since Dad could legally get me certified. While we were working the Sheriff sat there chattering about why they were calling you guys in and I told him that I knew of something that connected all the deaths.  The sheriff got asked to leave the shop due to the language he used as he told me you guys would never want to listen to me. Oh my stars, I thought for a few moments the Sheriff was going to just shoot my dad right then and there for daring to tell him to leave, but Dad just stood there looking at him and the sheriff finally made another slur and left the building.  Dad says the shop is supposed to be one of my safe places, at least while I’m working there. Then Chip said that they were sending FBI agents who looked at things other than just fingerprints and stuff like that, so he’d get me into to talk to you as soon as he could because maybe knowing something that linked them all would mean something.”

“You say you know something that links all the deaths?”  Spencer asked.

“All eight.”  Kurt said. “I even went back and double checked last night.”

Spencer looked around for some paper and a pen, until he gave up and fetched paper and pen from his own satchel.  “I’m going to have to get some writing utensils and paper in here, this is ridiculous.” He muttered, not quietly enough though, since the boy heard and smiled.

“Nice bag.” The young man, Kurt, said. “Good designer, rather old though.  It’s held up well, that is the nice thing about good quality work, it holds up to wear well. Abuse well, too, if the material is right.”

“Take a seat.”  Spencer said, pointing to the chair he’d set out for the boy. “Five outfits? Is that normal?”

“Nah, not even for most the others who get slushied at my school.  Honestly it’s even a bit much for me.  I always pack a spare or two, outfit wise.  A change or two a day is normal, more than three is rare. High School is…there is a hierarchy, you know, and if you don’t fit in, sometimes it’s not a nice place to be.”

Spencer nodded.  “Tossed in dumpsters and checked into lockers.” He said.

“Swirlies and slushies and shoving to the extent that you face plant. Exactly.”  Kurt sat down and pulled his bag up onto the table.  As he did, Spencer noticed a wince and wondered.  “Outfit one was a loss even before school started, they served spaghetti for lunch yesterday and the dumpsters aren’t emptied until just before lunch tomorrow.  Of course, even without the dumpster toss this morning I would have had to change…slushy one was grape and huge.  Plus even before I managed to get to my locker to drop my bag off and extract a new outfit, I ended up slammed in to Locker 279.  Luckily, I had a minor setback at home before I left and traded my good under t-shirt for one of the cheap ones my dad buys me and I had removed my good coat before the dumpster toss.  Locker 279 met with some sort of trauma earlier this year and needs replacing.  Like, the school year, not calendar year. Do you know first aid?  I patched the slice across my back best I could and wrapped it in the remains of the cheap t-shirt, but it’s not feeling quite right.” Kurt scrunched his shoulders and rolled them before pulling his bag onto the table and starting to empty it. Spencer smiled again as the boy continued talking while looking through the notebooks, books, and folders he removed and pulling out papers here and there.

“Anyway, patched and redressed I almost made it to my first class except Puck’s trying to get his rep back up and was going to slushie Jacob the Creep…that is Jacob ben Israel and he is very much one of those makes the skin crawl creepy people-I try not to think about just where that boy might have hidden cameras lurking about in that school because my dad says I have to go to school and I cannot be homeschooled and if I think long about Jacob the Creep and his cameras I just start to freak out and so I just try very hard not to think about it …” The boy across from Spencer shuddered and grimaced before looking back down to the papers he was collecting from inside his pile of belongings. “Anyway, one of the Hockey Players pushed Puck and it got me.   Puck punched the hockey player so I guess he sees me as a …friend maybe… which can only be a good thing. Puck’s in Glee club with me, and I think maybe the fact we’ve helped him out a bit with some of his issues this past little bit…we as in my dad mostly and me a little…has made him a bit less eager to make my life completely miserable. I was worried about that since I hadn’t really had a conversation with him for well over a week and the last one wasn’t exactly a good conversation and was well, rather weird.  Totally thought I’d weirded him out so bad he’d never speak to me again. Outfit two down.  Outfit three made it through first and second hour, but met its demise with slushies three and four right outside of the choir room.  Glee club isn’t even going on really since we lost regionals and can’t compete in any other competitions until next school year and apparently that is what glee is about...instead of working starting now so we don’t lose next year… but we still have that hour scheduled for class so we still go and well, it’s become the most dangerous class to go to since we lost regionals, not that it was safe before.  Apparently that is what makes us all targets, except half of us were targeted just as much, if not more, before we started up in Glee club, so really it’s just a handy excuse. Outfit four made it through glee, but not two steps past leaving the door of the choir room…slushie five and Karofsky.  Only he has it down to the locker check and then slushie in face combo. I’ll have bruises from that, too.  And outfit five never even made it into fourth hour.”

“Slushies?  Like crushed ice drinks?” Spencer asked.

“Yes.  They are horrid.  The syrup stings your eyes and they are sticky and yet slimy and cold.  There is a machine for them IN the school.  It is ridiculous.”

“Thank God my high school didn’t have those.  So, are your dumpsters the kind with the huge hard plastic lids or the metal lids?”

Kurt shivered.  “Plastic, thank goodness.  I’ve only had the lid shut on me twice though, both last year when I was a freshman.”

“I preferred those over the metal lidded ones, I think.  The ones by the lunchroom at my school were plastic lidded, but smooth and hard to climb out of, but if you could get to the top they were easier to open.   You’re pretty much tall enough that you probably can push the lid up without too much problem.   I had to walk by the dumpsters at the side of the school where the offices were and they had metal lids. I was tossed in those pretty much every day, and they shut the lid every time - Not so bad on my clothing as the ones by the lunchroom, but the first day no one found me until Mickey the Janitor came out to toss some papers from the main office and finally fished me out, four and half hours after I’d been tossed in.  I was too little to manage to get the lid to open even with the grooved sides that I could use to climb out. After that first day, every day ten minutes after second hour started, Mickey would fish me out of the dumpsters so I could get to my class. I think Mickey must have explained it to the teacher, as well, because even though I was ten minutes late every day I was never marked tardy.”

Spencer looked at Kurt, who looked back at him with an odd expression.  Spencer raised an eyebrow.  

“Sorry,” Kurt said, looking down and straightening the pile of papers he’d pulled from his various books and folders.   The Kurt looked up again and met Spencer’s eyes.  “It’s just…you get it.  You’d understand it all, wouldn’t you?”

Spencer smiled. “Probably.  I started high school right before I turned ten and graduated when I was 12.”

“Some sort of super genius, then.  I should have guessed, I suppose. I bet the other kids hated you more than kids hate me.  Was it bad all the way through high school?”

Spencer nodded.  “Most of it. I was severely bullied my last year, until about mid December when I joined the basketball team and they won every single game for the rest of the season.”

“You played?”  Kurt asked. Kurt was watching Spencer as he stuffed books and folders back into his bag.  

Spencer tilted his head back and laughed. “No…just, no.  I didn’t even go through a growth spurt of any type until I was like thirteen or fourteen.  Late bloomer. I took over coaching.  Basketball is fundamentally mathematics and physics.  Angles and statistics. On your team,  if you know who can make what shots consistently and you put your players in place and you teach them how to make the math work for them…you win.  The team had lost all four games they had played, their star player had just been expelled for selling drugs, so when I brought them my plan, and the coach figured they had nothing left to lose, they put it to use.  And they started winning every time they put my plans into play.  The other thing I did was break down other teams shooting strategies, so we knew who and what to watch out for and how to foil the other teams’ plans.  Most the bad bullying stopped after that.”

“Nice.  I wish it would have worked for me.  I joined the football team. Heck, I was the reason they won the only game they won this past year.  Made no difference in the bullying, at all.  In some cases it made it worse. Technically, I even won the Cheerios, that’s our cheerleading team, their national title. They probably could have won without me though….maybe. The coach signed me on solely for my singing voice.   Nearly fifteen minutes of Celine Dion in French and that was only one of the six fifteen minute routines she made me learn perfectly.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t just sing.  The coach made sure I could do anything she asked the other cheerleaders to do, as well….while singing. Everything, that lady is insane.   Didn’t stop the bullying.  The bullies were more careful about when they bullied, and I dealt with a whole lot more of being shoved and pushed and that kind bullying instead of the slushies…but that was because Coach Sylvester would have killed them if they messed the uniform up too badly.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” Spencer said.

Kurt shrugged. “C’est la vie, I guess. It’s what you get by being different, by being an outcast. You always hear it gets better. Did it get better?”  Kurt asked.

Spencer cocked his head to the side and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Most of the time I think so, but I still have issues.”

Kurt looked him up and down again and nodded.

“Well, I’ve always known I can’t expect miracles and that there will always be problems.  But I rather hoped they would be less if I moved away from here.”  He said with a sigh. He looked up at Spencer. “The murdered guys... those guys weren’t, you know.  Outcasts.”  

“What do you mean?”  Spencer asked.