#i somehow left all of my nice shoes that fit me at home apparently the only dressy shoes i have at my apartment are a pair of wedges that i

[pallases]

how is it only tuesday 😭😭

[angelicyoongie]

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”  

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.  

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

[itsmadamehydra]

My Savior || Wayne McCullough

A/N: Just some teenage girl trying to write the story inside her head, hope u like it.

Pairing: Wayne McCullough x oc

Warnings: rape, intention of rape, harassment, blood mention, bullying, language (a little strong)

.................

.................

I've always like to watch him by far, he just seems different from the rest (and oh boy, he is).

The first time I saw him I was in 7th grade. I was just one more girl of the many others that her tities just had started to show and my period started to visit me. I remember that day clearly, I was sitting at the hallway with my bestfriend at the time, eating infront of our lockers when I saw him.

"Am telling ya girl, the answer of number 5 was c." I said trying to reason with her about the science test answers "I told you that if u needed help to study, I could help ya." I smile at her and move my arm upward to touch her shoulder

"Yeah, yeah, I know...are you sure it was not D?" she said frowning her eyebrows once more. We stayed in silence for a sec before bursting into laughter and tears

Little by little our laughs started to fade, allowing ears to hear the background and aswell some loud voices, it sounded like an argument but by the hears of it a fight was going to start soon. "What you think is happening over there?" Cassie murmured, I stared at the end of the hallway where apparently was were the voices were coming from.

"I don't know..." my lips formed a thin line while I was thinking about what could have been happening in there, "You wanna, you know, go and see?" I looked back at my friend

"Freak yeah" she laughed grabbing my hand and running down the hallway to see the soon to be fight.

Once we got there, there was a mass of students surrounding what appeared to be the ones who where arguing. "Ugh, I can't see, I hate been so small." I said, "Hey, that smallness is beautiful and you know you can use that in your own benefit" Cassia said and winked at me.

"I mean, yeah but I can't-" my word stopped at the moment I heard a want sounded and I believe to be a punch in the face. "You saw that!?" Cassie said, "That was freaking awesome, please tell me you saw it!" "Um, nah Cassie, I cant see a crap" i said while trying to find a whole where to see through.

It was only a matter of seconds until more punches were heard. I started pushing people more frantically, I wanted to see what was happening. When I get pass a few amount of studens I almost slipped, looked sown to see what was it and it was stains of blood, only a few but still.

"Oh gosh, disgusting." When I look up only a few students are still in the cafeteria and a guy wearing a grey hoddie was just there, staring at the bloodie face of another guy. I stared back at the hoddie guy and noticed a little hammer in his hand, and the words just came out of my mouth without even noticing, "Why the hammer? Want to be a constructed or something?" He just stared at me and pass by me without saying a word and keeping a neutral face.

"Who the hell was that crazy ass weirdo?" I hear Cassie's voice behind me. "I don't know" I responded, "But I will know...one day."

"Ok,ok, am not going to get in between your little search thingi but am sure he is not good news." Cassie said, "You saw what he did, and he has a FREAKING hammer, y/n! Covered in blood y/n!" She grabbed my shoulders from behind, "I think we all understood the message, stay the fuck away from him, honey."

And I just smiled.

Months later I learned his name. Wayne, Wayne McCullough. Fits the ring if you ask me. Everyone was speaking about how violent, crazy and wierdo he was, about how he was going to show up at your house to beat the hell put of you.

I just observed him by far, well, I like to think that I noticed him. I noticed how he usually beats up those who are some assholes jerks that have only one brain cell as much. Noticed that he is not much of a talker and a shy boy. Noticed how he makes his lips thin when he gets lost in thoughts. How he closes his fist when he is about to do something. His strangely high pain tolerance. His pale skin and dark hair appeared to me to be very llamative and aswell his strength. He was and is skinny but somehow has a great strength, maybe do to the unincredible amounts of fights he gets in. Experience makes the master is what the say...right?

Years went by, we entered to highschool and the nervousness along with the fast beating, sweating and butterflies were still there every time i either tought about him or saw him walking around.

Cassie stayed with me for a while until she decided to join the group of nasty ass bitches with no brain cells who believed no one was better than them. While I...well, I stayed small for a big part I guess, always with good grades, teachers love me and try to be nice with every one I guess.

Everything was going great until Cassie along with some guys recorded me somehow while being drunk and them trying to overpass the boundaries, and let me tell ya.. that was just the start.

The had videos of me at the school bathroom, pictures of my underwear under my skirts and dresses, them trying to touch me. I had to learn to defend myself, stopped using skirts, dresses, shorts even do I loved wearing the. Replace my shoes with tennis and always had hair ties.

"Y/n, wake up! You're going to be late for school, don't think ama wait for you!" I mom yelled.

"Yes, mom! Dont worry, am up!" I run down the stairs with my backpack, went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went straight to the car.

"Oh for God sake, y/n" she said went she looked at me and noticed my new hair style.

"What? You don't like it? I just cut it a little." I satered at her innocently

"Your father is not gonna like it and you know it." She said and the stress lines appeared in her forehead, "You know this is his weekend and-"

She couldn't finish her sentence because I started taking, "Am not going to that dickheads house, mother." I said strainly, "Don't want to see his and face of that bitch he cheated you with..." i lowly said but loud enough to hear.

"I know, honey but you have to and besides you get to see your brother!" She patted my thigh, "Haven't seen him in a while right?" She said with a sad tone

"You should be the one seeing him...not me." I stared outside the window, there were just some trees and houses and garbage.

Mom and dad divorced a while back, he cheated on her. The house was a mess that day, screams and broken glass everywhere. Sammy was lucky, he was at grandma's but I was home...listening to every single word. That was also the first time a sneaked out and the first time I sort-of spoke to Wayne.

"What are you doing here?" I heard someone said behind me, I looked and it was fucking Wayne

"Just trying to have some quietness i guess..." I stared at my fingers and started playing with them because of my nervousness, "...What are you doing here?" I asked softly

And he stayed silent...the whole time after that. Either way, his company was nice and the side profile, ufff, amazing.

"Ok, we are here." I stared at the building for a sec before giving my mother a kiss in her cheek and entered to the building.

"Hey y/n! Nice ass!" That was the jerk of all jerks, Jonathan.

I turned around and stared at him, "Oh yeah?" He nodded, "Want to see me shop of your dick?" Changed my tone while saying that into a lower and more serious tone. He just stared at me with sealed lips and left.

I continued walking to my locker and I come to see tgat my freaking lock is broken, I search in all the spaces but nothing is missing.

"Come on! They had just changed me of locker!" I silently yelled. Started grabbing my books for the next few classes when I felt a hand in my shoulder, by instinct I grabbed the wrist, pushed the person against the locker and added pressure in the throat with my other arm.

"Hey y/n" Orlando smiled, "New move?" I chuckled and removed my arm, now, standing face to face I respond

"You know you shouldn't do that Orlando bunny." I laugh st the nickname I gave him a few time ago. Orlando was one of the few FEW people who talked to me, well, he talked to everyone but still.

"I know... I just forgot I guess man." He looked down, "Y/n...have your tities grown bigger?" His face looked confused.

I slapped his head and punched his shoulder, "Could you please stop looking and thinking 'bout tities when am around you?"

"I mean, yeah sure...and sorry about your lock." He points the locker, "Wayne thought it was still his but since-" I cut him off before he could continue

"Wayne?" I asked confused

"Yeah, Is tha-" i cut him off again

"Why did he tho?" I murmured staring at my lock in hand.

"It used to be his locker but oh well...he missed school for 3 weeks and yeah." He grabs his backpacks laces after explaining.

"Oh...ok, is he still here tho?" I looked at Orlando

"I guess..." he was about to say pther thing when the bell ring and we started to go toour classes, "See you later gorgeous!" He yells from the corner of the hallway.

I stayed there...just staring at my lock for a while, then order my things fast and left to class. What I didn't know was that someone was watching at me.

Three days later, i was walking back home and i heard s car going at full speed and nasty comments were started to be listend. I kept walking trying tk pretend they didn't exist when the car is suddenly over the sideway and infront of me.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME ASSHOLES!!" I yelled.

"But...you are bot dead right, bitch?" Jonathan said getting out of the car. There were five, 2 guys and 3 girls. "Don't prefer to suck my dick and be my slut, promise I'll pay a good amount." He said infront of me,

"She is already a slut baby." Veronica said

"I bet she has sleeped with half school, wouldn't surprise me if you haven been org*e or something." You know, comments are comments, you are the one who decide what hurt you and whats does not, but being Cassie the one who said that...broke my freaking heart.

I couldn't stand it anymore, wanted to leave the place so i came up with a plan very fast. I walked closer to Jonathan trying to be the most seductive I could, touched his chest, abs and got closer to his ear and said, "You are going to regret everything" Punched him with all my strenght in this genitiles, stomp on his feet, punched his nose and ran the faster I could out of there.

"You bitch!" I heard from far but i continued running, I couldn't stop, i was scared, didn't know what could happen if the get me. I could hear the car engines behind me, but i didn't stop.

I was close a bridge, ran underneath it, passed some houses but i could still hear the voices and car. My legs hurt, i needed to catch my breath, i could hear my heart beat, my body felt on fire. When I less expected am suddenly trapped, there were some abandoned buildings and warehouses but no way to get put of there. This was it, my end.

"Couldn't escape from me you nasty little bitch!?" I heard his voice, i was never one to pray but believe when i say i begged to God to save me. "You ain't going anywhere...bitch" he was behind me, I could sense it.

My hair was pulled, he pulls me by my hair to his car and i notice that it's just him and another guy. Am not getting out of here.

"We are going to have so much fun!" He licks my cheek and i try to kick him wherever.

"HELP!" I yelled, "SOMEBODY PLEASE, HELP!" my voice sounded horrific, like if i hadn't drank a single drop of water in ages, "please" y murmure my last pledge before he finally puts me over the capo of his car.

"No one's gonna help you, you slut." He says, the other guy was just watching and standing still, doing nothing.

I gave up, didn't even notice I was crying until I tasted the salt in my lips. I felt him over me, unbucking my pants and then...i didnt felt his weight anymore, instead, i heard a cry of pain, and then another cry, and another and another.

I lifted my head and there he was, grey hoddie and little hammer in hand...my savior. I smiled.

My smile just grew bigger and bigger every second I saw that boy swing that motherfucker hammer, every second that Jonathan's blood was spilled. I lool around in search pf the pther guy scared that he might try to grab but I get calm when i see him unconscious on the floor.

A few minuts later th cries stop and i look up, Jonathan was missing 3 teeths and face covered with blood, i think he could even have a brocken rib or something.

Am sitting on top of the car's capo when a feel a slight, fragile touch.

"You ok?" Wayne askes pulling a string of my hair behind my ear.

"...now I am." I smile to him and he returns a little small tiny one with a grin. I was about to say something else when he suddenly speaks

"Want to be my girlfriend or whatever?" He says looking exhausted, I chuckle

"Try a little harder and I might be." I say soflty with a small thin smile and he avoids my eyes but I still get to notice a small blush.

...................

Hey! So, yeah. This is my first ever published thing. Hope you enjoyed it and if you want a part two or to keep writing, am open to any suggestion! Am not very good with the warnings section so if you could help me with it, i would totally apreciate that!

Thank you for reading,

[laketaj24]

The Business II: Sorry Mama

A/N: Sorry, I promised this Monday! But here it is! It is a little lengthy, but I think it’s worth it. Taglist here. Reqs are open! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, a little pettiness -

Part I

Colson Baker Masterlist

Song Inspo: Sorry Mama, Phem and Machine Gun Kelly

His home made you feel as if your tiny loft apartment above the record store was a fuck up. You didn’t even have a front door in Colorado, and here you were being presented a room bigger than your entire apartment. You sat comfortably on the bed, trying to escape a reality that was smacking you in the face.  

“Interview at the radio station in the morning.” You had out your planner jotting down the long list of his upcoming events and practices. “Shit, he’s going to Cleveland next week.” Did you even have your license? Were you able to fly?

“Busy?” He knocked on the open bedroom door and then leaned his tall body against the door frame.

“Uhm, just making a schedule for the next few days.”

“Are you always awkward as hell?”

You scoffed. “Are you always abrasive?”

“Abrasive, no. Honest, generally yes. I’ve been trying to get you alone for two days.”

“I didn’t know.” You lied. His attempts were blatant; he’d bought you coffee every morning, granted you were his assistant, and he’d attempted conversations with you but him being your boss made it hard to define the lines in whatever you two were doing. “What are you trying to get me alone for?”

“To talk,” Colson walked into your room. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s pretty busy; you travel a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yep, all the time. Are you regretting it?”

“No,” you answered. “You?”

“Nah, I mean, you haven’t gotten me coffee or like done anything yet, but I think you’re cool.”

Your mouth dropped, and he burst into laughter. “Can I do anything for you today, Mr. Baker?”

“For me, no. I’m great. But you can come out of this room and go a few places.”

“My wardrobe is shitty. I’ve washed this outfit three times. And it’s not even mine.”

“It’s clear it’s mine,” he laughed again. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna pay you back.”

“No, the fuck you’re not, meet me downstairs. And you gotta wear your own shoes, you can’t fit mine. I’m like certain you don’t have big feet.”

He disappeared, leaving you in the bedroom by your lonesome. You had been sheltered the past three days, not talking to anyone but Kara, who had nothing good to say. And at this point, it didn’t matter. You just wanted her to stop calling you; she’d left you drunk with a bus full of men and said good luck.

The phone rang again and again; you answered, this time perching it on your shoulder. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Do I sound distraught to you?”

“You don’t have to be a smart ass! You quit your job. You haven’t come home. I was worried.”

“I’ve got a new job; I’m good. Thanks.”

“Being a whore?” She scoffed. “What’s the job?”

“None of your god damn business, you smart-ass arrogant bitch.” The call ended, and the eyes of Rook landed on you. “What?”

“You okay?”

“Oh, I’m better than fine.” You growled. Perhaps you shouldn’t take your anger out on him, but you did. “Can you move?”

“Certainly.” He smirked.

He moved out of the way, and you headed down the stairs; Colson awaited keys in hand and a smile on his face. “Assistant?”

“Colson.”

“Yeah?”

“Are we leaving?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for you and waited for you to go first. You lead the way staring at the array of vehicles in the driveway.

 The store didn’t have everything that you wanted, but you were impressed it offered more than what you expected.” You looked at the black dress, slinkily hanging from the manikin. The satin would hug your curves, but it wouldn’t put them out for everyone to see. You liked it. You touched the soft fabric and then picked it up.

“If you get that dress, you gotta wear it home.” He said from behind you.

“Why is that” You two had not addressed the elephant in the room. You’d rode this man for hours straight and would do it again if he looked at you a certain way. But he was now your boss; there were lines to not cross in business. This was an apparent line that should not be crossed.

“I want my clothes back.” He said with a crooked smile. “So you either wear that or go naked?” Colson shrugged and looked in the body-length mirror in front of him. “You can decide; I think U might win either way.”

“What’s the prize that you win?”

“I don’t know exactly; you've been quiet as hell ever since you got off  the tour bus.”

“I don’t remember how we met.” You admitted.

“You remember nothing?” He cocked a brow. Colson looked at you through the mirror; his face is stoic and unmoving. “You were that fucked up?”

“I’m not a good girl.” You answered. “I figured you knew that.”

“I don’t like good girls, so perfect.” He turned to face you and bit his lip. “You really remember nothing?”

“Is it worth remembering?” You teased.

“I’ll give you a refresher.” Colson pointed to the dress. “Put that on.”

“I’ll don’t think I want it anymore.” You brushed past him and looked up. “I’ll find something I like Colson, you just chill. Isn’t that what you told me you were here for? Just to chill.”

“You’re right; take your time.” Colson gave in quickly with a slight nod, and he moved to the men’s part of the store, not paying you any attention.

You were not a good girl; that made telling him no easy. So if you wanted to fuck him, you could fuck him. But, unfortunately, this was not the time; you barely remembered how this all started. Had it not been for the video footage, you’d be fucked. The feelings were all there, you blushed every time he cracked a smile, and yet you stood in a mental chamber confused about what to do.

You picked up a few items and headed into the changing rooms. They were huge, not like the department storerooms you were accustomed to; there was a mirror and a chair. You hung threw your clothes over the door and picked up the first dress. It was bright yellow, not really what an assistant should wear. You didn’t care. You slid it over your hips, jumping once to get over your ass, and then looked in the mirror. Yellow always looked good on you. You shook your head yes and smiled. Shit…, you were beautiful, hair pulled a messy ass bun and glasses on the tip of your noses, and you were the baddest bitch you’d ever seen in your eyes.

It was a yes for the yellow dress. You tossed it over the door creating a mental yes pile for yourself. It took you about ten minutes to try on every dress. Three yes and two no, it worked for you. Maybe he would find a normal store so you could have leggings; there was no way in hell you were wearing dresses the entire gig. You shimmied out of the last dress and tossed it over the door, and it disappeared, snatched down the moment it hit the door. Then you realized… no clothes were hanging there. Every piece you’d draped over was gone. You stood with your panties in bra with a dropped mouth. The awe was real; he got you. The sneaky man fucking left you helpless.

“Colson!”

“What’s up?” He asked innocently.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Oh, my clothes? They are in the car.”

“Oh my god! You asshole. Give me my clothes.” Your heart dropped as you heard his laughter, and then you joined him. “This is not how you fuck me again.”

“It is, however, how I get you to try this dress on for me.” He hung the black dress over the door. “Please?”

“Fine!”

“Thank you, Y/N. You are so difficult.”

“Mark my words, you sneaky little bastard.”

“Little?”

You snickered. “Big sneaky cocky bastard.”

“Better,” Colson said. “What words am I marking?”

“If you get this pussy… it won’t be today.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.” You took the dress from him and started to get dressed. He somehow guessed your size appropriately, and you didn’t even care; you were impressed. The dress felt as good as you imagined earlier. It fit you right, hitting a few inches above your knee, accentuated your ass, and making your breast pop. This was a club dress for sure, but here you were, walking out the dressing room with it. Colson awaited you in the front of the store, bags in his hand and a wicked smile on his face. “You like it?”

“Fucking love it.” He shook his head and pointed to the clerk. “She’s fine as fuck, right.”

The woman blushed and pulled her hair behind her ear. “It looks good on you!” She beamed.

“Don’t lie; she’s fine as hell.” He walked over to you, draping his long arm around your shoulders. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Road trip.” He took your hand in his and pushed the front door open to the store, and lead you out. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, I could eat too.” The edged sentence hit your pussy immediately, but he just kept walking to the car, ignoring the few people who recognized who he was and opened the door for you. They kept their distance, but the vultures were out and clicking their cameras.

Colson hopped into the car and pointed to your seatbelt. “Buckle up.”

“You're not worried about them?”

“Who?”

“The paparazzi”

“Oh, Nah, they got a job to do. Let them do it.” He shrugged.

“They’ll know about me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He merged into traffic and sighed. “They’ll know you’re my assistant tomorrow at the interview.”

“Right!” You exhaled. Small reality check, you swallowed and looked into the bag. “You have a busy tomorrow lined up, you know that?”

“I do; you do too.”

“Are you sure about having me as your assistant? I can go home; you don’t have to keep being nice to me because a groupie made it back to Cali with you.”

“Nah, you act like you don’t even like me.” He shot you a loo a sped the car up, “You got nothing to worry about, right?”

“That’s right.”

 He got food for the both of you, but he didn’t head back to his place. Instead, you were outside of the city driving up the hills of California; you’d always wanted to come here, so you took in the scenery while mentally going over the schedule again for tomorrow. Colson's hand rested on your thigh, the calloused pads of his fingers stroked playfully up and down your legs. You liked the feeling. It had been a while since you’d felt some guitarist hands on your body. Apparently, he played it more than you gave him credit. He gripped you occasionally and dug into your flesh. Sensual act for someone who had a new girl every three days.

“You’re from Colorado,” He asked as the car slowed at the top of the hill. The plateau gave a good view of the city that thrived a few miles over.

“No, I’m actually from Texas, but I left when I was twenty. My parents were hella strict.” You peeked into the bag of food and grabbed one of his fries.

“Colorado served you well.”

“I just moved there, I went to New York, got a really good job, lost it, and then moved to Colorado with my mom and her new husband. I hate it.”

“Well, good you don’t live there anymore.” Colson parked the car, let his seat back, and took the bag from you.

“You say th-,” Your phone rang. Your mother’s face flashed before you, and you rolled your eyes. “Give me a moment.”

Parents were needed; you knew this, but your mother had criticisms, and if you knew Kara, she’d called your mom to tell her about the last few days. No, you had not answered her calls, and you didn’t intend to deal with it now, but if you knew your mother correctly, she was two seconds from declaring you are missing.

“Hello.” You answered the Facetime call, and your mother did not look impressed, just worried.

“Y/N.” She shook her head. “Where are you? Did you quit your job? Haven’t you been home in days? Are you okay?’

“I am fine.” You shook your head. “I have a new job now, and I will be home soon. I promise.”

“With that, whatever the fuck he is?” She stared at you.

Colson leaned in the frame, “Performer. Hey Miss Y/L/N.”

“I am married now; that’s not my name.” She cut daggers into him. “Walk away from him; I would like to talk to you alone.”

You sighed, “Be back.” You stepped out of the car and walked a few steps from him. You hoped he wouldn’t hear your mom act a complete ass on the line, but she was about to be loud. “Mom.”

“Don’t fucking mom me,” She hissed. “Don’t do this,” She paused. “Come home, now. Tell that tug to give you a ride, and maybe they’ll hire you back at the gas station.”

“You really think your daughter is only worthy of a gas station?” Colson appeared behind you.

“Give me a second.”

“Hang up on her.” He shrugged. “Conversation was over before it started; she didn’t give you a chance to explain anything. She just assumed you were out whoring?” He raised his brow at you. “Conversation was done five seconds ago; hang up.”

“Tell that boy to stay out of this,” She added.

“Mom, I got a job as his assistant.”

“A whore?”

“Okay,” You tried to block her assumption ut. “I will call you back later.”

“Yeah, away from him.” She ended the call.

“You know how to make shit worst!” You stared at him.

“Or better. Fuck her, fuck that little ass gas station. Fuck her calling you a whore.” Colson took your hand and spun you around once; the move resembled dancing. You felt like you were floating; he twirled you back to your chest.

“I didn’t know you were this sweet.” You said, looking up at him.

“I have my moments.” He admitted. He swayed with you. “They’re not as rare as people think.” Colson sighed and lifted you from the ground easily. Your feet dangled as he walked you back to the car and placed you on the hood. “I think this is going to be good for you, so don’t worry about the shit that’s going on back home; this is a good thing.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep meaning that shit too.” He stood in front of you and lifted your chin. “You really don’t remember that fucking kiss.”

“Which one,” You smiled.

“This one,” Colson’s lips met yours, and your breath disappeared as did the need to breathe, and you didn’t instantly remember, but the butterflies were familiar. He cradled your head to give him more access; his tongue dipped into your mouth and met yours. You moaned, tasting him, and fought the urge to wrap your arms around him and moving this along faster.

You pushed him back a little and took a quick breath. “It was that good?”

“Um, that was better.” His face turned a shade of red. “Fuck.”

You two met again, this time with no intention of stopping. Colson’s long fingers moved up the line of your thighs, pulling the soft fabric with it; you raised your ass from the hood of the car and unbuckled his belt. “What’re you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

“Make you forget who you are,” He whispered.  

Were you going to fuck him on the hood of his car? Absolutely. You tugged at the seam of his boxers, tugging on the elastic, and he pulled them down enough for him to spring out from them. Eagerly you stroked him from hilt to tip, and he pushed you back on the hood of the car, fuck warming you up… you were wet enough. He gripped your thighs, pushing them open and running his fingers down the slit of your pussy before he slammed into you.

The sun had started to set, but if anyone wanted a show of you getting fucked they had it, legs open and back arched from the car. He suppressed a growl fucking you slowly. He took pleasure in watching your face contort each time his length went into you. “You’re perfect.”Colson’s tone dropped to a whisper, but that fucking whisper was enough. You wanted to sit up and ride the fuck out of him.

He hit deep, the curve of his cock hitting the right time you bucked against him, spasming, and he’d only been in yu a few minutes. “How many are you gonna give me today?” Colson asked.

“How many do you want?” You rested on your elbows and gave him a smile.

“Everything you fucking got.” He slid out of you and pulled you closer to him, kissing you before he turned you around and bent you over the car and slapped the round globes of your ass. Colson played for a second, slipping one finger into you and then another. You mewled, wiggling your ass against his war cock, coaxing him to slide into you. He played into it, rubbing the head of his cock across your entrance and then sliding back into you.

Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, and you were flushed, relishing his movements. He pushed into you, rounding his and pulling you back onto him. “Look at that pretty pussy.” He hovered over you. “How she’s fucking shaking for me; I think she remembers who daddy is… Let me see if I can make you.”

Was that a challenge? His hand traveled down your back to the line of your ass, and he pushed a finger into you while he continued to fuck you. His pace left you winded, but the feel of the pressure of him being in both had you elated. “Fu-,” You bit your tongue.

“Y/N.” He sung and then slammed into you once more. His finger curved, and you screamed. “Say it for me, call me daddy.”

“Daddy, don’t stop.” You all but sang, and Colson reacted accordingly, making his fingers move expertly to apply just enough pressure, and his cock hit just the right angle. Of course, you fell apart under him, but he didn’t stop, nor did you want him to. You could handle this if this is what he wanted from you.

The thought of him stopping hadn’t crossed his mind; he was too enchanted in watching your ass bounce on him and feeling the shockwaves of the orgasm flow through your pussy onto his cock.

 The evening passed seamlessly; you had worked up an appetite, so you ate, talking about tomorrow, and he drove back to the house. The house was quieter than usual, TVs could be heard, but everyone had separated. “Get some sleep.” He said, opening the front door for you. “we got a busy ass day tomorrow.”

“Will do, good-,” Colson’s lips met yours once more. “Night.”

“Night.” He took the bags from you. “See you tomorrow.”

Your mind raced as you walked up the steps to your room. This was going to be more difficult than you intended, fuck blurred lines--- you could barely see straight.

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12  @jeonsblackgf @fangirl199812 @thatonegrl-1 @isyoongi @honestsycrets @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @cartoonlover101 @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @bowwowzer37 @fandomfic-galore @mayaslifeinabox @hangovercurse  @szaplsdrop @heavenly1927 @mvrylee @canyoubuymetoast @littlelovebug98 @nightgirl250 @psychiccreationtaco @stupendoushairdocloudmuffin @aliendemigods @triplexdoublex @placeoffreedom @amorestevens @brightblaqkkheaven​ @pettyvxbes​ @pacmacs-macs @lostaurorax​

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse and manipulation, slice of life(ish), manga spoilers!!

A/N: Ok so this is just what I daydream about, and since ima tv addict, I’m involving some “Avatar: The Last Airbender” related things, but a little different. This is more of an introduction to our character but I hope you enjoy!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Summary: It’s Y/N’s first day at UA.....as a “former” villain

“Y/N L/N. She’s a new transfer student. Treat her with your respect and do your best to take care of her.” The tired teacher spoke.

“.......Hey. Please treat me well.” The intimidating girl said as she bowed in respect.

Now if you were to see Y/N on the streets as a stranger, you wouldn’t even think she would have this threatening aura. The class agreed. She’s gorgeous. From a far, you would think she’s a sweetheart, But the girl had a cold, calm stare in her E/C eyes. There was actually no way to describe it. It was just chilling to the bone.

Not only that, but it was clear you were a little rebel. Mainly because of the way you decided to change up your uniform. Your sleeves were torn off to make your button up top some sort of tight fitted turtle neck with a tie that was complimenting your busty figure. Especially since it was tightly tucked into your skirt, pressing against your torso instead of loosely sitting in there like the other girls. You also added a small dark brown belt to cover where your skirt and top meet. Your waist gave the perfect show of how curvaceous you truly were. Your thighs were deliciously thick and your ass must’ve been a perfect peach, considering it caused your skirt to seem a little too small for you. Instead of the typical shoes and knee high socks, you opted for thigh high dark brown leather boots that folded at the top to match your belt. No heel though, of course. Gotta keep it casual. You finished off your rebellious look with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves. Do you look like trouble? Yup. Do you look hot as hell though? You bet.

“You may be seated next to Katsuki Bakugou.” Your new teacher spoke. Before anybody else could give an indication of who this “Bakugou” boy was, an electric blonde spoke up.

“Be careful with that one pretty lady, he’s our resident hot head.” The boy spoke while the entire class giggled.

“Shut it dunce face.” Your eyes shifted from one blonde to another. This time with a spiky head of ash blonde hair and piercing red eyes. As you walk towards your new seat, you made eye contact with the spiky blonde, you saw the look on his face. Just like everyone else, a face of fear and shock, except this time the person didn’t know who you were.

Bakugou could definitely say upon first glance, you were definitely something fierce. It threw him off just how powerful your presence was. He quickly turned away as you took your seat.

As class began, everyone had their eyes on Y/N. Some admiring her beauty, others wary of her aura, and some too nervous to mention their newfound fear of her. In the middle of Mr. Aizawa’s boring lecture, a scratch at the door could be heard.

‘A scratch?’ Everyone thought. But Y/N knew exactly who it was.

When Mr. Aizawa went to open the door, in came what appears to be a wolf-dog. Mr. Aizawa seemed to casually accept it and just expected you to explain. He was too tired to deal with this crazy shit.

“Oh..there you are Rumor. Took you long enough to find this place.” The creature, also somehow intimidating, simply just huffed at the girl and layed down next to her seat in between her and Bakugou.

“L/N, please explain to the class why Rumor is here. They clearly seem to be confused.” Y/N looked around the room to see her new classmates staring at her and her furry friend.

“*sigh* he’s my animal companion.” You simply stated. Apparently it didn’t satisfy your peers because a freckled, green haired boy spoke up.

“Animal companion? Like a service dog?” The timid boy asked. You secretly rolled your eyes at the fact you’ll have to answer this question again. That is until Bakugou spoke.

“You damn nerd, if he was a service dog, she woulda said that now, don’t ‘cha think?” ‘Dunce face and a damn nerd huh? Wonder what new nickname this hedgehog will give me.’ Your little quip made you give the smallest smile with a quiet laugh to yourself

What you didnt realize was that during your little moment, Bakugou was watching you the entire time. He fought the blush that was threatening to rise and successfully won. ‘The hell?’ Bakugou thought. Since when did he blush?

“He’s right. Rumor isn’t my service dog, he’s my animal companion. And no, not my pet. He’s more like a close friend. My best friend if anything. He’s also not a dog either, he’s a changeling.” You explained hoping someone else knew what a changeling was. Thankfully, the “damn nerd” did.

“Changeling? I thought they were just a myth.” He said. “What the heck is a changeling, Deku?” You turned and saw it was a girl with a round face and pink cheeks. ‘Deku? How rude’ you thought to yourself.

“Changelings were rumored to be magical like beasts who could take the form of any animal they chose. Those forms could be as real as eagles and bears or as mythical as dragons and unicorns. They could also change the size of their form too. Am I right, L/N?” Deku asked you.

“You’re completely right, Deku.” The green haired boy blushed at his nickname on your tongue. “Rumor can be any creature I command. His wolf-dog form is his casual form though. It’s the form he took at birth I guess.”

“You guess?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, I guess. I didn’t have Rumor since he was born. I found him while I was on a walk in the forest. We just clicked, and he followed me home. That’s when I discovered his powers and what he was, and seeing that changelings were only rumored to have existed, I thought it would’ve been a fitting name. We’ve been together ever since, and not only does he work as a friend, he’s a fighter too. He’s like a partner to me which is exactly why principle Nezu allowed him to attend UA with me. I guess you could say he’s part of my...uhm..quirk” You thoroughly explained. You couldn’t help it. You loved talking about Rumor. He was your best friend and definitely one of a kind.

Rumor looked up at you and barked. You turned to pet him on the head and gave him a little smile. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the resident hot head, which once again caused him to fight back a blush. ‘The fuck is going on with me today?’ The blonde thought to himself. Finally satisfied with the answers, the class picked up where they left off and continued to learn about quirks which didn’t seem all that useful to you since....you don’t have one.

——————————————————————————

Later

“Remember, we will all be meeting at gym gamma tomorrow morning, so don’t bother coming to the classroom. Just meet up there with any comfortable gym wear.” Mr. Aizawa said at the end of the day.

“Yes sir!” The class all said. “L/N stay behind, I need to speak to you and Rumor.” The tired teacher said with a yawn.

“Yes sir.” You calmly replied.

As the class gathered their things to leave, some came up to speak to you. First it was Deku and the round faced girl.

“Welcome to UA L/N. My name is Izuku Midoriya!” Deku said.

“Oh my apologies. I thought I heard that your name was Deku.” You said so nonchalantly with your sweet voice.

“Well it’s just a nickname that started up with Kacchan.” The boy was now blushing in slight embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head.

“Kacchan? I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” You said.

“Oh right! My bad, Kacchan is Bakugou. It’s a name I gave him during our childhood.” He stated.

“Seems a little mean.” You chuckled

“Yeah but he’s always been like that.” The boy smiled with a small laugh.

“I think I can tell. He must be really nice to Deku and Dunce face.”

You both shared a laugh at your little sarcastic poke at the explosive blonde that the girl was feeling a little left out.

“Anyways, I’m Ochako Uraraka! I was really hoping I could talk to you more but Deku over here can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.” the girl slightly teased.

“Meh. No worries. We’re gonna be stuck together for the next few years. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” You so kindly spoke as you gathered your stuff.

“Totally! We can-“ Uraraka was cut off by a very handsome two toned boy with a scar. He definitely reminded you of some you knew. You watched as he came up to speak to Midoriya.

“Hey, Midoriya. Did you want to...” you tuned out his conversation. You simply just stared at him in awe. No doubt about it. He was definitely Dabi’s brother. But he was a whole lot more handsome.

The boy caught onto your staring and introduced himself.

“Hello L/N, my name is Shoto Todoroki. You may know me from my father, Endeavor, but I assure you, I’m nothing like him. In fact it’s safe to say I hate him.” He stated ever so calmly. ‘Wow. So blunt. And I guess hating Endeavor runs in the family’

“Hey it’s fine. I get it, daddy issues.” You nervously laughed but this seemed to strike an interest in Todoroki as he seem to have wanted to continue bashing both of your fathers until he was interrupted by Bakugou.

“You’re in my way Icy-hot.” ‘Jeez, another nickname?’ You thought.

“Then move to another side.” Todoroki quickly came back with.

This caused you to now openly give a quiet laugh, you could already tell what kind of relationship those two have. During your small laugh, Bakugou once again caught himself staring, except this time, he was caught. And it was by you.

You both made eye contact once again. As he stared into your E/C colored eyes, and you stared into his rubied gems, you both grew a slight blush on your cheeks and the 3 standing next to you both took notice.

“Hey..” you sweetly said.

“..........hey.” He replied and quickly looked away embarrassed. That peaceful little moment made your heart stir. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. If felt calming, loving, happy...and weird and confusing. Thankfully, Dunce face came up to flip the switch.

“Wow Kacchaaannn,” the electric blonde said wiggling his brows. “Never seen you blush like that. You got a little crush on the new gir-“

“SHUT UP SPARK PLUG!” Bakugou exclaimed as he quickly made his way out of the classroom.

“Hey why you gotta be so mean all the time man!” Dunce face cried out.

“I SAID SHUT UP” Bakugou screamed from down the hall. ‘Well he certainly is interesting.....and cute’

“Ah jeez, whatever,” the blonde sighed before you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Well hey there pretty lady,” he started “I’m Denki Kaminari and you are one gorgeous girl. And you definitely got a rockin’ bod-“ he was cut off by our scary teacher.

“That’s enough Kaminari, I need to speak to L/N. Now all of you, out.” He commanded.

They all took their leave thinking about how cool and kind you were. Oh how wrong they were. The little act you put up sure was convincible. Hell, the only thing you genuinely meant was that Todoroki and Bakugou were cute and the blush that came up whenever Bakugou stared at you. You still couldn’t explain it but you brushed it off.

When all were gone, you mentally took notes of their names and possible quirks.

Izuku Midoriya. Alias: Damn Nerd and Deku. Quirk: unknown.

Ochako Uraraka. Alias: unknown. Quirk: unknown.

Shoto Todoroki. Alias: Icy-hot. Quirk: possibly related to cold and heat

Denki Kaminari. Alias: Dunce Face and Spark Plug. Quirk: possibly related to electricity

Katsuki Bakugou. Alias: Kacchan. Quirk: unknown

“L/N.” Your teacher snapped you out of your quick thought and got you focused.

“You seemed to be very comfortable with telling them about Rumor.” Mr. Aizawa said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well he is my best friend. I could go on and on about Rumor for hours if people didn’t stop me. And you can’t lie, he is pretty interesting. Especially his fighting style. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you....Eraser Head?” You said with a sinister smile.

You were well aware that Aizawa knew Rumor’s capabilities very well. You were also aware he knew much about yours too. I mean, you both have fought each other before. And one of you almost didn’t make it out alive. Hint hint, it wasn’t you.

“You are to address me as Aizawa Sensei or Mr. Aizawa, Titania.” He sternly said.

“Ouch, the villain name? I thought the past was the past. There’s a good inside me, dont you remember? You were the one who said it after all. You were even the one who recommended an S-Class villain like me should join UA.” You snidely replied.

*flashback*

As you fought against the skilled pro, you could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the second. You used your air bending to push him back, crushing him into the wall, and keep him far away. Before you could send Rumor in to finish the job, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Kurogiri? What are you doing here?” You stopped fighting and quickly turned to your superior in a fearful and shaky manner. Although you were much stronger than him and could easily take him down, you knew better. Your mind had already been so manipulated into thinking you were the weakest villain in the league, when it reality, you were strong enough to take down Shigaraki in a snap...but you didn’t need to know that.

Eraser Head, too tired and beaten to even pick himself up off the ground watched the interaction from the distance.

“You were told to collect intel, not fight a pro.” The black fog stated.

“Well yes, but he tried to stop me an-“ he silenced you with a smack to the face. Kurogiri was a respectful man...in ways...but he was just following orders on how to treat Y/N.

“If he tried to stop you, you run away.” He said, matter of factly.

“But he-“ once again, he cut you off but this time with a louder voice.

“But nothing! You were to gather intel and report back to base. Not fight. If you got into trouble, you are to run away, and use your bending and Rumor as assistance.” He stated.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” You said with your head bowed down in dishonor.

Aizawa could already tell from afar how controlled you were. In past fights, he’s noticed how you were so quick to succumb to any villain in the league, and you were always so willing to go back to them no matter how many times you could’ve ran away on your own. It was like they had something you needed, or more so it was them that you needed. For survival, perhaps?

“Did you even gather the information we needed?” Kurogiri asked.

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. With a disappointing glare he reached for you, when you flinched at just the slighted movement, Aizawa knew something was wrong. Yes you were a villain, but it was clear you were also a manipulated child. So he acted quick, and attacked Kurogiri, knocking him out, and grabbed you. Before you both took off, you threw one of your earrings at kurorgiri’s unconscious body, knowing he’ll know what to do once he sees it. As he ran with you, he took notice of the animal behind him that followed you. When he finally landed on a cliff hanging over the city, he placed you down to sit on the grass and looked at you before speaking.

“I can see it. All of it. They’re controlling you aren’t they?” The pro-hero spoke.

“Excuse me? Nobody is controlling anybody! I choose to follow orders!” You yelled as Rumor came up to you.

“What is that thing?” Aizawa asked.

“He’s my friend and you won’t harm him!” You said while grabbing onto Rumor.

The pro took note of that word you used. Friend. Villains don’t have friends, they don’t have anybody but goons and partners in crime. Literally. You were definitely different compared to these other villains.

“I have no intentions on harming you or your friend.” The pro spoke.

“So what do you want with me.”

“....Simple. I want you to go to school, live in the dorm rooms, eat good food, train more to become better as a person and fighter, and make more friends. I see a good in you Titania, you deserve a good life. Not one controlled by villains where you do their bidding for what? Survival?” Aizawa said as he crossed his arms while looking at you.

You were in shock. He was able to figure you out. Well, he figured out why you were with the league. Survival. But it doesn’t matter, you were so brainwashed that you were convinced anyone outside the league wanted to kill you...at least that’s what the LOV told you.

“I don’t want to go to school, I want to go back home to the league.” You said while looking down and holding onto your furry friend.

“Home? UA could give you a better home.”

You looked up in shocked at his words. He wanted you to attend school at UA? You know that place. That’s the one place where the league has been so invested in ever since All Might joined the staff there. Suddenly, an idea came into thought. You knew exactly how you were gonna get into the league’s good graces and out of the cold shadow.

“UA?....That’s where you want me to go? How the hell am I supposed to get in there? I’m a known villain genius.” You sarcastically said.

“A villain hidden behind a full face mask. People don’t know your true identity, and did you ever think that maybe the league wants it that way?” He said

“Are you saying you know who I truly am?” You questioned him.

“No, but that doesn’t matter right now. If you want to go to UA, I can help you. I’m a teacher there and I can put in a good word for you. Sure it will take a lot of convincing but I’m willing to do it. Using UA as a reformatory program for you could be benefitting you in more ways than one. So if going to UA is what you really want, I’m more than happy to help you Titania.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your heart was so excited. You were finally going to get away from this horrible life of crime and killing. Away from the abuse and blood. Away from the league. But your brain was telling you to deny it all. You were safer with the league, everyone is out to get you, and you will die without the villains help. But a bark broke you out of thought.

You turned to your side to see what seems to be a smile on Rumor’s face. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out while giving you puppy dog eyes. It appears he knew what was going on and he seemed excited. For your best friend, the world. So you gave in...happily.

“Y/N.” You said while getting up off the ground.

“Huh?” The pro spoke.

“My name is Y/N L/N, and I’d be happy to join UA.” You said with a smile and tears of joy filling you eyes. Rumor happily barked at the pro as well.

“Well alright then,” the pro said sticking out his hand for you to shake, “Y/N L/N, welcome to UA.”

As you shook his hand your smile held a thousand words. Happiness, excitement, villainy, and sin. Sure you were going to benefit yourself, but you were also going to benefit the league.

*Present Time*

“I was hoping I’d get more respect from you considering I was the one who got you into UA,” Aizawa tiredly said while turning his head towards the ceiling and crossing his arms. “But I guess that mischief and attitude just comes with the deal.”

“Correct.” You simply said.

“So are you willing to tell them what your “quirk” is? You seemed so open about Rumor, I thought your powers would be the same.” Aizawa pressed on.

“Not sure yet. I only just met the students. They seem nice.” You said while looking at your now very interesting shoes.

“They’re a crazy bunch, but they’re incredible friends. They could be great friends to you too Y/N.” You looked back up at him with hope, but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place.

The teacher took noticed of this and continued. “Either way, they’ll have to see what you got tomorrow. In gym gamma we’ll be doing some sparring including our quirks, so you’ll have to show them all that you can do.” He said.

He saw how that made you nervous. Not because you were scared to speak about or show your abilities, but because you knew you would be hit with thousands of questions. Oh how annoyed you must be.

“Understood.” You said to him as if you were a soldier. He won’t get used to that. He’ll have to make sure you know it’s ok to speak to people as..well people, and not like everyone is your superior.

“Good,” he began to walk to his yellow sleeping bag to pick it up, “now head to the front of the school. I left an escort for you to help guide you to your dorm room. That person will also be a guide in all things UA for you so be nice. You’ll be stuck with them for awhile. That is all, you can go now.”

As you and Rumor made your way to the front, you had so many questions going on in your mind. Should you make new friends or keep them at a distance? Should you completely drop the league and join UA? Should you blow your cover and expose why your truly there? What to do, what to do.

When you made it to the front, you finally saw your escort, and you couldn’t help but give a little smirk.

“Hey..”

A/N: If y’all wanna see the clothes that inspired Y/N’s uniform, check this out!!!

A/N: Damn guys, I know I’ve only just started writing but this is kinda the story I imagine in my mind at night. So I thought it would be fun to give it to reality. So here’s my first FanFic😅 hopefully it doesn’t turn out too terrible, but I promise to work on my skills and improve. Also, if you need a reference to what Y/N’s uniform looks like, search up “Akame from Akame Ga Kill.” That’s the look that heavily inspired Y/N’s new uniform. And if you’re confused on what the boots look like, search up “Lucy Heartfilia thigh high boots,” bc those are the EXACT boots I imagine on Y/N except in a darker brunette color to match the belt. Once again, NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed pt. 1! And if this goes well, tell me if you’d like a pt. 2! I love to hear feedback! Thx <3

[onecanonlife]

the wind that remakes

It's been ten years since the princes of the Antarctic Empire vanished. But the king's still offering a hefty reward for their return, and Tommy thinks it's about time he and Tubbo tried for it. No matter what they have to do.

It's time to pull off the con of the century.

(fic masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

(chapter word count: 5,474)

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

Chapter One: let the valleys awake (let them rattle and shake)

It starts like this: Tommy and Tubbo are looking for someone they could feasibly pass off as one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire, because the reward is a shit load of money and Tommy wants a piece of it. But they’re not having any luck, right up until they pass by a busker on the street corner and something in Tommy’s head just clicks, just says, yes, that one, he’s the one.

And, well. Tommy is a Big Man whose instincts are never wrong, so he nudges Tubbo and points. Tubbo’s nose scrunches up, but Tommy doesn’t give him time to object before he’s marching over, already preparing his dialogue. And as he gets closer, he’s more and more certain that he’s right about this; the guy has the right hair color, the right face structure, and he’s a performer to boot, and taken all together, it smells like a successful scam just waiting to be implemented.

The guy doesn’t look up when he comes over, so instead of talking to him, Tommy pulls out the rumpled picture that they’ve been using all day, one of the photos of Prince Wilbur that’s been circulating around the Empire for years now, in hopes that someone will see him and bring him home. Fat chance of that ever happening, of course, and King Philza must be a sucker for thinking it, but it makes his and Tubbo’s jobs easier, so he’s hardly going to complain about it. He holds the picture up, comparing the face of the prince to that of the street performer, and actually, the resemblance is kind of uncanny.

“Tubbo, my friend,” he says, “I think we’ve got him.”

Tubbo makes a noncommittal noise, but that finally gets the performer to look up from his guitar.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks, and Tommy grins.

“Actually, we’re about to help you,” he says, and he sounds very grand and impressive, if he does say so himself. Which makes it all the more annoying when the guy looks him up and down like he’s worth the dirt on his shoes.

“Really,” he says, and his voice is dripping with so much sarcasm, Tommy’s surprised that it doesn’t manifest physically somehow.

“Yes, really,” he says. He refuses to be put off. This is the guy, he just knows it, the guy who’s going to make them so fucking rich that they’ll be able to swim in gold, or whatever it is rich people do with their money. “You’re one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire.”

The guy blinks. “Pretty sure I’m not,” he says.

“Pretty sure you are,” he returns. “See, look, we’ve got a photo of you and everything.” He shows the guy the photo, and the guy narrows his eyes. “Or at least, we’ve got a photo of Prince Wilbur, but it could be you, too. That’s a kid in this picture. No telling what he looks like now. Could look like you.”

“We’re inviting you in on our scam,” Tubbo puts in. “If you couldn’t tell. You interested?”

“Wait,” the guy says. “Wait. You’re telling me that you want to pretend that I’m a fucking prince so that you can get the reward money off the king? Something I’m sure no one has ever tried to do before. You don’t know me at all, and you don’t know if I can act worth a damn, you just think I look like the prince did when he was fourteen. But just to be clear, that’s what you’re proposing?”

He looks at Tubbo. Tubbo looks at him.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Tubbo says. “If it makes you feel better about it, we’re really, really good con artists.”

“You’re infants, is what you are,” the guy says. “How old are you, five?”

“We’re sixteen, fuck off,” Tommy snaps. “Look, do you want in or not? Pretty sure living in a cushy palace has got to be better than whatever you’ve got going on here.”

“Hm, let’s see, do I want to upend my entire life to try to trick a grieving father into thinking that I’m one of his long lost sons? Which, incidentally, is a plan that will probably not work and get us all thrown in prison for fraud,” the guy says.

“We’re going to try very hard not to get thrown into prison for fraud,” Tubbo is quick to say, but the guy doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Sure, let’s go,” the guy says. “Not like I’ve got much else to do. You two have names?”

“This is Tubbo,” Tommy says. “I’m Tommy.”

The guy raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, like Prince Tommy,” he says. “It’s a common name, so shut up about it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” the guy says. “I mean, my name’s Will, so.”

He can’t stop himself from laughing, because that’s just too good. “Are you serious?” he demands, smiling widely. “You’re joking, your name is actually Will?”

Will shrugs. “It’s what I’ve always gone by, ever since I was a teenager. I can’t really remember any of my childhood, so who knows, maybe I actually am a prince.” He smiles in a way that makes it clear how much of a joke he thinks that is, and he stands and reaches for his guitar case. There’s not much money in it, despite the fact that from what Tommy heard of his playing, he’s pretty damn good.

Tubbo snorts.

And Tommy claps their newfound friend on the back.

“Will,” he says, “I think this is the beginning of an excellent partnership.” He grins broadly, the type of grin that always has Tubbo rolling his eyes and asking where the fire is, which is unfair, frankly. It’s not always a fire. Just sometimes, because arson can be fun, actually, and some people deserve to have their stuff burned down.

Will, to his delight and Tubbo’s obvious consternation, grins the same kind of grin right back at him.

-----

It starts like this: it is indeed the beginning of an excellent partnership.

Will fits in with them like he was born to the role, and Tommy will never admit how fast he’s gotten attached to the guy, but he is kind of very attached. Because Will is smart and funny, with a sense of wit that can have both him and Tubbo in stitches, and it’s also nice to have an adult around, a bit. Not that he and Tubbo need one; they’ve gotten along just fine without for years. But people don’t shoot them as many suspicious looks when they’re with Will, and it turns out that he’s a brilliant actor, too, charismatic and smooth and confident, and he has people eating right out of his hand while Tommy and Tubbo sneak around and pick their pockets. It’s a wonderful arrangement, and within a week or two, Tommy can barely remember what life was like without him there.

The main issue is travel.

It’s a long way from where they started to the Capitol, and they can’t always afford to travel in the protected caravans, the ones with hired guards against the mobs that swarm over the land at night. And they can’t always afford an inn to stay in, either, and that means spending several harrowing lengths of time cowering in a makeshift shelter, listening to zombies and skeletons and spiders just outside and praying that none of them find their hiding spot, because they’re all scrappy in a fight but they don’t have any real weapons on them. They hadn’t planned for this, really; he and Tubbo have never left the big cities before, and apparently, Will hasn’t either.

“We need a bodyguard,” he declares one day.

“Where are we supposed to get one of those?” Tubbo asks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “But we need one. I’m sick of mobs.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Will says. He’s setting up a busking spot, trying to get them a little more cash. Somehow, it never seems to be enough. “But I agree with Tubbo. Even if we can find someone to go with us, there’s payment to think about.”

“We don’t need payment,” he protests. “We’ve got a prince! A long lost prince! We’re about to be the richest men in the world! That’s payment, innit?”

Will rolls his eyes. Tubbo does too. They’ve been doing that lately, ganging up on him, which is terrible and unfair.

“Somehow, I don’t think that a good bodyguard will accept that kind of payment,” Tubbo says. “It’d basically be an IOU, right? That’s a terrible business practice.”

He scowls. Tubbo is right, of course, but he’s got his heart set on a bodyguard now. Someone who’s good at fighting—good at fighting mobs, specifically, because Tommy is a very good fighter, thank you very much, it’s just that the people he’s used to fighting are other street kids. For, like, food. Not monsters. Not things that can kill you in one blow, if you’re unlucky.

And then, like fate and providence are shining down on him, his eyes alight on a poster across the street. The poster advertises arena fighting. In this city. Fights daily.

He grabs Tubbo’s arm.

“That,” he says, pointing, “is where we find a bodyguard.”

Tubbo follows his gaze. “Maybe,” he says doubtfully, “but we’ll still need to pay them. How are we supposed to convince someone to come along? I bet they get paid more for fighting than we could ever offer them.”

“Tubbo,” he says, “we’re the greatest con artists in the world. We can think of something.”

Tubbo stares at him. And then grins.

Behind them, Will starts to play.

-----

It starts like this: Will manages to busk enough money to get them three tickets into the arena.

It hurts just a bit, spending their legitimately-earned cash on something like this. But five minutes after stepping through the gates, into the crush of people and the roar of the crowds, the scent of sweat and blood mingling with concessions and stale perfume, Tommy thinks that this might be one of the best things he’s ever gotten to do in his life.

Their seats aren’t great, but they can see alright. The day’s matches start with small fry, and those fights are so boring that he almost starts yawning, because these people are just bashing each other with swords. There’s no finesse to it, no real skill, and he really hopes that there are fighters here better than this, because if there aren’t, this has been a wasted trip. But slowly and surely, the fights get better, more engaging, more of a real show, and his interest returns.

And then, when they’ve been there for hours and the sun is starting to creep toward the horizon, they bring out the big guns.

The announcer calls out someone with the moniker of ‘The Blade,’ and the crowd goes wild. They, evidently, know who this is, and that fact alone is enough to put Tommy on the edge of his seat, because surely, this is who they want? The headliner, the number one, the main attraction? If the spectators like them this much, they must be good.

They step out into the arena, dust clouds puffing where their feet fall, and the crowd gets impossibly louder. It’s hard to make out details from this distance, but Tommy can see pink hair, tied back into a braid, and some kind of mask covering the upper part of their face. It looks a bit like a skull, like this person is actually wearing an actual skull on their face, and that is either extremely overkill or extremely badass, and Tommy can’t quite decide which.

And then, there’s the massive netherite sword they’re holding. Their namesake, Tommy assumes. It’s probably the biggest sword he’s ever seen, and this person is holding it like it weighs nothing at all.

Their opponent comes out, and even though they’re also armed to the teeth, they don’t look nearly as natural as the Blade does. They hold their axe out in front of them as if to ward off blows rather than make them, and they’ve got their shield lifted too high. The Blade, meanwhile, spins their sword—and how strong must they be, to wield such a huge weapon so naturally?—in casual circles, appearing for all the world like this is no more strenuous than a walk in the park.

The announcer shouts. The fight commences.

The Blade fights like it’s as natural as breathing, and Tommy can’t look away. Their style is a mixture of sheer brutality and uncanny grace, and it’s difficult to watch, sometimes, difficult to keep track of exactly what they’re doing; one moment, it will look as if their opponent is holding their own, and then the next, they will have that sword at that opponent’s throat. Or through it, sometimes. The Blade doesn’t seem to have any compunctions about killing.

Tommy loses track of how many matches they fight. Six, maybe, or seven. But they win all of them handily, and by the time the events are all over and people begin to file out of the arena, he’s practically shaking with excitement.

Tubbo beats him to the punch.

“So, it’s them, right?” he says. “We’re gonna try to get them?”

Tommy nods rapidly, unable to contain himself.

“We have to,” he says. “That was fucking—I don’t know what the hell that was, but it was fantastic!”

He glances over at Will, only to find that he’s still staring out into the arena, eyes slightly glazed. Tommy furrows his brow, waiting for him to say something, but when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to, he speaks up.

“Will? You agree?” he asks, and Will blinks, shudders a bit.

“Right,” he says, “yeah, no, sorry, I’m good. Yeah, if we’re actually going to do this, we should aim for the best.”

He still seems a bit out of it, a bit dazed, but he turns his head to meet Tommy’s eyes and smiles, and Tommy tucks his concerns away with the mental equivalent of a shrug. If Will says he’s good, that’s good enough for him.

“Alright,” he says, standing, cracking his knuckles dramatically. Tubbo rolls his eyes at the display, but he ignores him. “Let’s go get ourselves a Blade.”

-----

It starts like this: the key to sneaking in someplace is to look as though you belong there. That’s easier said than done, of course, especially for two ragged teens and a slightly less ragged young adult. But Tommy’s had a long time to figure things like this out, and so has Tubbo, and Will hasn’t done this very often but he always takes to acting out new roles as if he was born to them, so Tommy’s not particularly worried. They find a door marked for employees and slip in, and from there it’s just a matter of finding their way.

He’s got a story prepared in case they get stopped, something about being sent with a message, but no one gives them a second glance. He keeps his head held high, his stride purposeful but not too confident, and simple as that, he appears to be just like everyone else, age and clothing notwithstanding.

“Do they have rooms down here, do you think?” Tubbo mutters. “The fighters?”

“Maybe,” he replies. “Even if they don’t, I bet the Blade is still here. The fight didn’t end that long ago.”

There are a lot of rooms under the arena, a lot of hallways, a lot of space, and it’s a bit mazelike, really. Dark, too; they’ve got redstone-powered lighting, but it’s fritzy, the bulbs flickering and dim. The walls and floors are hard, dank stone, the kind that echoes loudly with every noise, and Tommy can’t help but wince when the sound of their passage bounces off of every surface.

“There’s lots of swords in there,” Tubbo says, peering into one of the rooms they pass. “Isn’t that the Blade’s?”

Tommy stops walking, stepping up next to Tubbo. The room is full of weapons and armor of all kinds, but sure enough, there’s a large sword sitting alone on a table, still flecked with dried blood. It’s even larger up close; Tommy’s not sure he could lift it without using two hands, much less fight with it, though it pains him to admit as much. The Blade is just that strong, apparently, though why he’d leave his prized weapon sitting here in a room of other weapons, out in the open where anyone could mess with it, Tommy has no idea. Unless the sword isn’t actually his, but that doesn’t make much sense, does it?

“Tommy, Tubbo,” Will hisses, the sound sharp in the otherwise empty corridor, and Tommy looks over. Will is standing in front of an iron door a little ways down, a door with a barred window in it. He’s got his eyes fixed on whatever’s on the other side, his expression somewhere between shock and anger, and Tommy exchanges glances with Tubbo.

“What?” he asks, coming over.

“Have a look,” Will whispers, moving aside so that he and Tubbo can see.

He immediately understands what has Will upset.

“Oh gods,” Tubbo says. “They’re prisoners.”

There are cages in this room. Dozens of them, built with black iron, though only a few are occupied. Tommy recognizes most of the people in them, all people who fought in the arena earlier, the best fighters, the ones that gave a good showing, that were actually interesting to watch. They’re all in cages, most of them sitting or lying down, none of them moving all that much. It’s a stark contrast to before, when they were all movement, all aggression. Now, they seem—listless is the best word to describe it. Purposeless. Like all the fight’s been sucked right out of them.

A few of them are in chains, even inside their cages. The Blade is one of those, manacles wrapped around their wrists and ankles, and a collar around their neck. It’s sick, is what it is, like they’re some sort of animal.

“Shit,” Tubbo says. “I thought the hardest part was gonna be trying to convince them to come. Now we’ve got to do a prison break?”

“This isn’t right,” Will mutters. “This isn’t—they’re being forced to fight?”

“Only one way to find out,” Tommy says, and reaches out to push the door open. For a second, it doesn’t budge, and he wonders if it’s locked, because wouldn’t that just be perfect? But then, there is give, and it swings inward with a squeal of rusted hinges. Beside him, Tubbo steps back to look up and down the hallway, but no one appears to shout at them or kill them for trespassing, so Tommy squares his shoulders and strides into the room, trying to keep looking like he belongs.

It doesn’t matter much. Just like the employees they passed, none of the fighters—the prisoners—seem interested at all. So Tommy walks through the room unimpeded until he’s right next to the Blade’s cage. The Blade is sitting on the ground, leaning against the bars, head bowed. They don’t look up.

So Tommy clears his throat.

“Hello,” he says, and congratulates himself on an excellent beginning.

Slowly, the Blade’s head rises, and Tommy can see two things: one, that what he thought might have been a skull mask back in the arena is definitely an entire real skull, holy shit, and two, that the Blade is a young man, far younger than he would have thought him to be. Maybe even younger than Will, who estimates his own age to be around the ballpark of twenty-four or twenty-five.

“Hallo,” the Blade says after a moment. Tommy almost laughs out loud, because the word is said so awkwardly, and more than a bit bewildered, as if the Blade can’t fathom why someone would be talking to him. Which is a bit sad, actually, so Tommy’s going to choose to believe that he’s confused by the presence of a teenager and not by the fact that anyone is there at all. Because the second would just be downright depressing.

“You’re the Blade, right?” Tommy checks.

“That’s what they call me,” the Blade agrees. “And you are?”

“We want to hire you,” Tubbo jumps in. “Or at least, we did. We weren’t really expecting you to be locked up or anything. We might need a new plan. But we wanted you to come with us and be our bodyguard.”

It’s difficult to tell exactly what the Blade’s expression is doing, considering that most of the top half of his face is hidden by the animal skull—is it a pig? Tommy’s pretty sure that it’s a pig, or a boar, or maybe even a hoglin, considering its size—but his eyes are visible, and he glances between both of them slowly, skeptically. Tommy bristles.

“And just what do a couple of ragamuffins need a bodyguard for?” the Blade drawls. “You skip school too many times?” He pauses. “Who do children fight these days? Other children? I can fight you some orphans if you want, I guess. I’m pretty good at that.”

Tommy blinks, his mouth working silently for a second. He wants to be indignant at being addressed like a kid, like he’s not even worthy of consideration, but that is superseded by his sheer bewilderment at the way the Blade talks, like he’d just casually enjoy the chance to rough up some orphans. He looks at Tubbo, and sees the exact same question reflected in his best friend’s face: Just what kind of guy have we started talking to?

This isn’t like Will, where he could tell immediately that he would be right for the job and for their team overall. The smart thing to do would probably be to give up and look elsewhere for someone to hire. And yet, Tommy finds himself intrigued. This is a very strange man, obviously, and he’s never been able to resist poking at strange things.

“No, no orphans,” he says, muttering a quick, “What the fuck?” under his breath for good measure. “We just need protection on the road. From mobs and such. We will literally break you out of here if you come with us.”

The Blade tilts his head.

“You could try,” he says. “I can’t say I’m enthusiastic about the idea.”

“You can’t possibly want to stay in here,” Tubbo says incredulously. The Blade shrugs.

“No,” he agrees, “but there’s not much of anythin’ for me out there, either. Everything about this place sucks, but at least I get to fight people. I like doin’ that. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I got out.”

And that—forget earlier, that is so, so incredibly sad. In both the pathetic way and in the actual terrible way.

“There’ll be plenty of mobs to fight on the road,” he says, grasping at straws now. He’s got a few ideas for how they could successfully orchestrate a prison break, but in order for that to happen, the Blade needs to be willing to go. “Loads of ‘em. And besides, we’re bringing Prince Wilbur back to the king, and there’ll be a great big reward for it. You’ll be rich enough to do whatever you want after that.”

“Like fight orphans,” Tubbo adds helpfully.

“Yeah, like fighting orphans. So c’mon, what do you say?”

The Blade has gone very, very still.

“You’re doing what?” he says, his tone completely flat. A shiver runs down Tommy’s spine, because that is not a good tone. That is a tone that promises violence, that promises bloodshed, that promises death, and he’s not sure how he knows that, but he’s sure of it, sure as he knows his own name, that he has somehow just said something to make this man very, very dangerous.

“Uh, we’ve found Prince Wilbur?” he says. “And we’re bringing him back to the Capitol so we can get the reward money? And that’s why we need—”

“Prince Wilbur is dead. All of the princes of the Antarctic Empire are dead.”

The way he says it shocks Tommy into silence, and he doesn’t know why. It’s hardly an outrageous thing to say; it’s the general consensus of the common folk, after all, that King Philza is clinging to false hope, that he is a decent man but also one to be pitied, for refusing to accept the loss of his sons. Hell, Tommy himself has never believed in the myths, in the stories that go something like, so-and-so saw one of the princes by the train tracks or so-and-so saw them on a cart crossing the border or shit like that. The princes were kids when the invasion happened and the Empire itself was almost lost; there’s probably no way that they survived being taken by the enemy, the invaders that crept out of the End.

But the way the Blade says it—

He’s so certain. Like there is absolutely no doubt in his mind. The princes are dead, and there’s not even room for argument, not room for so much as a rumor to the contrary. Tommy agrees with him, but even he can’t claim that level of surety.

“Uh,” Tubbo says. “I mean, obviously it’s a scam. We’re scamming the king. We don’t actually have the prince. But we’d still like a bodyguard.”

“No,” the Blade says, in that same voice, low and monotone and terrifying. “You should leave. I’ll have no part in this.”

“Oh come on,” Tommy says, regaining his voice. He doesn’t know what to do with the Blade’s convictions, but he knows how to talk his way out of a denial. “Look, why don’t you—where’s Will? Will?”

Will’s not standing at the cage with them. Somehow, he’s only just noticing this. He turns, and Will is lurking back by the door to the room, keeping to the shadows, shifting uneasily. Which, fine, he can do what he wants, except for right now, because the more adamantly the Blade turns them down, the more Tommy wants him to come along.

“Will,” he calls, and his voice reverberates through the room. A couple of the other prisoners lift their heads. “Come talk to this guy! Tell him he should come with us!”

Will approaches slowly, strangely hesitantly, stepping up on the other side of Tubbo.

“We are in the market for a bodyguard,” he says quietly. “We thought you fit the bill.” He pauses. “We can’t guarantee that any of this will work, of course, but I’m an excellent actor, and these two are literal children, but they’re not bad.”

“Aw, thanks,” Tubbo says.

“Watch who you’re calling a fucking child,” Tommy says.

“What?” the Blade says. “You’re—Wilbur?”

“Will,” Will corrects, “but yes, we’re passing me off as Prince Wilbur.”

“Passing you off,” the Blade repeats. Slowly, he rises to his feet for the first time, and wow, he’s tall.

“Kind of the definition of a scam,” Tommy says.

“A scam,” the Blade repeats again. “This is a scam.”

“We just told you this,” he says. “Are you a bit slow or what?”

“No, just tryin’ to understand,” the Blade says. “You’re tellin’ me right now that this is definitely a scam. And you are not actually Prince Wilbur of the Antarctic Empire.”

“That is what we’re telling you, yes,” Will says, and Tommy is glad that he does, because he’s pretty sure he’s lost the thread of the conversation. The Blade is a strange, strange man, and frankly, he’s not making any sense at all anymore.

“Okay,” the Blade says. “I’m in. Bust me out.”

Tommy blinks. And then blinks again.

“What, really?”

“Yeah, you’ve convinced me,” the Blade says.

“Literally how,” Tubbo states, but Tommy punches him on the arm to get him to shut up, because they don’t need him to think about it, don’t need him second-guessing his decision.

“Alright!” he whoops. “One jail break, coming right up!”

“Right,” the Blade says. “Who are you again?”

He’s already leaving the room. But he hears Tubbo say, “I’m Tubbo, and that’s Tommy,” and he hears the Blade’s strangled, “Heh?” in return, and that’s a bit weird, but he doesn’t pay it much mind. They’ve inducted a strange man into their little band, but that doesn’t matter much, as long as he’s as good with his sword against mobs as he is against people.

-----

It starts like this: a massive netherite sword, left unattended, works amazingly for cutting through iron.

A massive, enchanted netherite sword also works amazingly for setting things on fire.

It’s a mess after that, a blur and a rush of adrenaline, but they cut up all of the other cages and chains to give the other prisoners a chance to get out, and then they’re running, and the place is on fire behind them because for a labyrinth under an arena, there’s a surprising amount of wood around here. And there are people shouting at them, and a few people that try to attack, but the Blade mows them down and laughs, and there’s blood and lots of it, too, but in the moment it doesn’t seem to matter so much.

He’s got Tubbo by his side. Will at his back. The Blade close at hand. And in a way he can’t quite describe, it feels very right.

-----

It starts like this: Tommy doesn’t know where he comes from.

He sort of vaguely remembers things, sometimes. He thinks he had a family, once. If he strains himself, he can recall fuzzy impressions: someone holding him, safe and warm. Someone’s laugh. Someone singing. An overwhelming sense of being secure, of being protected, of being loved.

But if he strains himself, sometimes he remembers other things, too. Darkness, terror, screams. Fear and disorientation, and a voice, clear as day: “Take your brothers and go!”

He’s turned that piece of dialogue over and over in his mind so many times. It’s all he has, the only hint he has to go on. It’s a male voice, clearly an adult. He likes to think that it’s his father. Though maybe he shouldn’t hope for that; he doesn’t remember what happened, but he’s sure it was dangerous, and if that person was his father, he might be dead. Probably is, in fact. There’s a reason why he ended up in an orphanage, after all.

Those are his first clear memories, at that orphanage. They estimated him at about five or six, and he’s pretty sure they were right, so he really should have at least a few memories from before. But he doesn’t, and the woman who looked after him the most told him that he probably went through what she called a trau-ma-tic event. Because trau-ma-tic events, she said, sounding out the syllables just like that to make sure he understood, could sometimes make you forget things. And sometimes the memories come back, but sometimes they don’t.

She was always kind to him. They all were, at that orphanage. And then that orphanage got shut down and he got shipped off and never saw any of them again, because kindness is no way to run a business. Kindness doesn’t get you many places.

It was orphanage after orphanage after that. They always looked for excuses to get rid of him. He was a problem child, the particular kind that always gets pegged before their mouths even open. He’s never understood it. Something about the look in his eyes, maybe. Not that it matters; he got put in the same orphanage as Tubbo at twelve, and they ran away together and didn’t look back.

No point in crying over dropped diamonds. No point in longing for something he can’t have. Can’t remember.

But sometimes, he lets himself wonder what his life would be like, if he’d gotten to keep that first family he’s certain that he had. He wonders what they were like. His maybe-father. The brothers that he thinks might have been his. He wonders, and he wonders if it’s possible to miss people that he never really knew.

But none of that matters in the long run, not really. Because he’s got his Tubbo, who’s better than any brother he could possibly ask for. And now he’s got Will, who’s funny and charming and just as irritating as he always suspected an older brother would be, and he’s got the Blade, who’s strange and sarcastic and so skilled that it’s scary, honestly, and they’re on their way to scam a king, and there’s nowhere to go but up from here.

He looks around him, at his friends and he thinks, Yeah. Yeah, this is good.

[matbarzyy]

To Love Is To Let Go [A.B.]

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How can the heart and mind find a balance when love and yearning are mixed up with distance and responsibilities?

A/N: I’m so excited for you guys to finally read this! Another conversation about Tito with @itrocksmysocks​ made us create this story and I ended up writing it, so I hope you’ll like it!

Word count: 12219

Warning: A tiny bit of smut

.

“If you don’t go get that man I swear!” Adeline’s friend, Maya, exclaimed as she gave her shoulder a push.

They were out to celebrate together in Montreal because a month had now passed since Adaline moved there for her internship assisting a book editor, and it had to be memorable.

“Okay okay! I’m doing it!” The brunette adjusted her skirt, fixed a strand of her hair, and took a deep breath. “I’m going,” she said more for herself than anyone else.

            The man across the bar had finally gotten up from the table he was at with his friends to order a drink, and that was the perfect opportunity for Adeline to go up to him. She might not get another chance during the night, so with an extra push from her friend, she found herself walking over to where he was.

“Hi,” she greeted him shyly, making him turn his attention to her. Her voice felt a little weak and looking straight into his blue eyes was more destabilizing than she thought it would be.

“Hi,” he replied as he waited, his tone suggesting she had to continue quickly if she didn’t want to lose his attention.

“I, uh,” Adeline struggled before getting a hold of herself again. She wasn’t a fifteen years old high school girl admitting her crush to a boy, she was a confident woman in a bar, and she was going to act like one. “I saw you sitting with your friends earlier and I figured now was a good time to come ask if I could get you a drink.” She let the sentence out without a hitch, and a little sense of pride filled her until his lack of reaction made her deflate. “Or not, it’s fine if not.”

“No, no,” he reassured her as a smile spread on his face. “I mean, yeah, you can get me a drink, if I can get your name,”

“Adeline,” she told him without hesitation.

“Adeline,” he repeated before nodding. “That’s pretty, I’m Anthony, but most of my friends call me Tito.”

            With the introductions over, Adeline leaned against the bar beside him and the bartender came over to them. One drink soon turned into two, the alcohol was going down fast to erase the nervousness, but their conversation was flowing surprisingly easily. Nevertheless, three drinks were all it took for Adeline and Maya to be reunited in the bathroom.

“So?” She grilled her for the details while Adeline pressed her palms over her cheeks, trying to get herself to cool down.

“I really like him,” she admitted to Maya and shushed out her excitement immediately after. “But he could still be a weirdo, he’s too nice to be true.”

“Honey, he’s not a weirdo, he’s a professional hockey player,” Maya chuckled as she revealed everything she knew. “Why do you think he’s so hot?”

“How do you know?” A frown settled on the brunette’s face as she pieced everything together.

“He’s a NHL player, how do you not know?” Her friend countered and reached up to remove a small piece of fluff from her hair.

“Oh my god,” Adeline breathed out. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It was sweet you didn’t know,” Maya shrugged. “Now go back out there and make him swoon.”

            When they returned, Anthony was sitting at a small table by himself, and she didn’t hesitate to join. Maya was friends with one of the bartenders there, so it wasn’t like she minded being left alone.

“I figured it’d be more comfortable,” he explained as she took a seat. “Especially if we keep on going at that pace,”

“You figured right,” Adeline, put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “My friend told me something interesting about you,”

“Should I start worrying?” He exhaled a nervous chuckle, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“You play hockey?” She looked into his eyes to gauge his reaction. Maybe the alcohol was hindering her perceptiveness, but if she was right it looked like the question made him sad.

“Ah,” Tito’s nervousness settled but a sense of disappointment replaced it. “I kinda suspected you knew already,”

“I had no clue until five minutes ago, figured it was only fair to tell you,” Adeline told him the truth because she knew instantly that the kind of attention he got from being a professional athlete wasn’t necessarily the kind of attention he wanted. “Was it better when I didn’t know?”

“Yes and no,” he replied honestly. “Yes, because it meant you just liked me and not for shitty reasons. No because I wasn’t going to hide it anyway, and you didn’t know for the past hour, so I feel like we’re good,”

“Good,” she smiled. “Feel like having another drink?”

            Tito wasn’t one to turn the offer down, and the two spilled things to each other that they would have never considered sharing with a stranger before. It was freeing to talk without boundaries, to be able to say anything on any subject and listen to someone else’s perspective of the world. Adeline thought he was interesting for someone so different. He was down to earth and witty, constantly making her laugh with the dumbest jokes, and maybe it was because she was drunk, but deep down she knew the butterflies and giddiness she felt weren’t from the alcohol.

“You’re so damn adorable,” Tito blurted out in the middle of one of her sentences, and silence fell onto their conversation.

            Adeline stared at him while a smile spread on her face, but the cuteness of the moment was cut off by both of them bursting out laughing for no apparent reason. It was a fit of uncontrolled giggles at first, followed by an outburst of deep laughs that they thought would never stop.

“We’re so fucking drunk,” Adeline managed to squeak out through shakes of her chest.

“Yeah, you might wanna let go of this,” Tito reached to gently push her drink a few inches away from her hand, but his inhibitions were low and he underestimated his strength, sending the glass sliding all the way to the edge of the table.

            Their eyes widened in shock when it stopped just before falling to the floor, and with that another fit of unstoppable laughter began.

            It was something neither of them ever experienced that strongly, that connection with a stranger that made them feel like they had known each other their own lives. In the middle of their busy, messy lives, they had found a bubble of happiness and oxygen within each other.

            It took several minutes for them to calm down, and when a relatively normal conversation resumed, Maya walked over to them to ask if she should leave on her own or wait for Adeline. Time had flown by and it was past one in the morning already.

“Five minutes?” The brunette barely looked away from Tito, and Maya took the hint.

“Well, before you go,” He waited until she had walked away to continue. “Can I ask for your number or do you have to be the one taking all the first steps?”

“You can have my number.”

.

            Getting into the uber with Maya was a blur, all that Adeline knew was that she was feeling like a kid on Christmas eve after her night with Tito. She wasn’t drunk enough that she couldn’t make a sentence or walk, but definitely drunk enough to zone out and say everything on her mind no matter how stupid or embarrassing.

“Oh my god, he’s already texting?” Maya took the phone from her inebriated friend’s hands after it buzzed multiple times. “Damn,” she looked over the few messages they had started to exchange.

            Adaline didn’t respond, only giggling drunkenly before getting her phone back and focusing on the screen to type another reply. Everything was a little bit blurry, especially in the moving car, but once it stopped in front of her building she sobered up a little.

“Drink some water before bed, yeah?” Her friend told her as she opened the door.

“Yep! Text when you’re home!” Adeline gave her friend a loud kiss on the cheek before getting out and somehow walking to the door without stumbling.

T: Fries would be sooooo good right now

            The text came just as she kicked her shoes off while the door fell shut behind her. She groaned out loud at the idea, heading to her bedroom with her phone in hand.

A: Don’t talk to me about food I’m starving now

T: Make food?

A: I can barely hold my phone

            Adeline struggled to take her clothes off and sighed in relief once she was finally naked.

T: What if I come over with fries?

A: Omg you would?

T: Address?

“Well shit,” she laughed to herself as she grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants, pairing them with a comfy t-shirt because she was too drunk and tired to put in an effort with sexy pajamas. She was pretty sure sex wasn’t an option for tonight anyway, they were both too drunk, it wouldn’t get anywhere.

            Adeline sat on her living room floor to stay awake as she waited, her head lolling from side to side as she scrolled through social media, laughing and snorting out loud in ways she’d never do sober. It only took ten minutes for Tito to text he was there, and she jumped back up with renewed energy at the idea of food.

“My savior!” She exclaimed as she opened the door for him and saw the paper bag in his hands.

“Shh, your neighbors!” Tito laughed at her, letting himself in and giving her the bag before following her to the living room.

“Fuck Tito,” Adeline took in the smell of the fries as she opened one of the boxes and handed it to him. “I owe you big time,”

“They’re just fries,” he sat on the carpet with her. “But I’d take some ketchup,”

“Oh, yeah!” She crawled over to the fridge that was easily accessible since she had an open kitchen. The apartment wasn’t huge, but since the kitchen and living room were merged the living space was big enough.

“Mph,” Tito groaned as he stuffed fries in his mouth. “Best decision ever,”

“And does this look like a good decision?” She said to catch his attention, a bottle of tequila in hand.

“It looks like a terrible decision and I’m so down for it.”

            Adeline sat on the floor with him, food, condiment, and bottle of tequila all within reach. She took the first gulp, big enough that it was worth more than a shot, and Tito followed her lead.

            The rest of the night was erased from both of their memories.

            When she woke up, Adeline felt her body ache in ways it rarely had before. She was still on the floor and there was a bad taste in her mouth as she opened her eyes. The paper bag that Tito brought over was on the floor along with two empty boxes that once held the fries. Tito himself was on the floor too, and his position looked more than uncomfortable, but his mouth was slightly parted, and his chest was rising and falling at a steady rhythm.

“Hey,” Adeline rasped out, nudging him with her foot. “You alive?” She asked as he stirred awake.

            An unconvinced grunt reached her in response, and Tito brought his hands up to rub his face.

“Time?” He groaned, counting on her to have her eyes open.

“Eleven,” she pushed herself up and grabbed the counter while a wave of nausea washed over her. “Advil?”

“Fuck yes,”

            Tito managed to get up too and downed two glasses of water with the pills Adeline handed him. They were both silent as they sat on the couch and took some time to really wake up. The apartment was on a low floor, and for the first time since she moved in, Adeline was glad for the lack of light that came from outside.

“I’m gonna make pancakes.” She eventually said, deciding breakfast was the only way her stomach would settle.

“Oh, so you’re going to beat me to every nice gesture?” Tito teased although he was glad he was about to eat. She gave him a look and he only smiled, leaning back more comfortably on the couch. “Jokes aside, this was the best night I’ve had in forever.”

“Me too,” Adeline hummed, already pouring milk into the rest of her ingredients and stirring. She cooked breakfast so often she could make pancakes with her eyes closed. “It was a lot more fun than any stupid party I’ve gone to lately,”

            The conversation shifted to small talk after that, something to keep themselves busy as they got lost in thoughts. There was some unspoken communication going on, they obviously had chemistry, but they had only known each other for one night and they were already being so domestic it was scary for both of them.

It was clear they could build something together if they gave it a try, but Tito didn’t live in Montreal, and why the hell was Adeline even thinking so far ahead already? She tried her best to focus on cooking to get all of the ideas out of her head and stacked the pancakes in plates before bringing them over to the table.

“I want to eat these every morning for the rest of my life,” Tito almost moaned when he took the first bite of his food.

            Adeline always kept maple syrup around, and this morning she even had some chocolate spread and strawberries left from this week’s grocery shopping. It made for an amazing breakfast.

“Thanks, I cook a lot,” she explained as she dug into her own food. “The cleaning up is the not fun part.”

“I hate dishes,” Tito nodded his agreement.

“A nice guest would offer to do them after I just cooked,” she pointed out to see what’d he’d say, and he put on his best angel face.

“Mmh, but a nice host would politely refuse that kind of offer,” he tried to serve his half ass excuse with a smile.

“Do you want more pancakes, or do you want to get kicked out?” Adeline gave him a murderous look in response, and Tito forgot to chew as he swallowed his next bite.

“Pancakes, definitely the pancakes. Promise I’ll do the dishes.”

.

            When the Sunday ended, Tito went home and Adeline spent hours in a bath trying to set her mind straight. She liked him a lot, there was no denying that, but would they ever be able to make anything work? He was an amazing person and they had a great night together, but it didn’t mean he’d let himself fall for her too, especially since he lived in New York most of the time.

            A sigh fell from her lips in the steam-filled bathroom, and she let her body slide down for her head to be submerged. The world turned silent and dark for a few seconds, it helped her empty her mind of all thoughts. When she pushed herself up with her feet and oxygen filled her lungs again, Adeline felt a little better.

            Little did she know that Tito was dealing with the same dilemma in his own shower. He had tried to work out to sweat the hangover off, but seeing that the twenty minutes of running only worsened his headache, he didn’t take it further than that. It wasn’t really the hangover that was bothering him, it was the feelings he was catching for a woman he had known for less than twenty-four hours.

            Was that what love at first sight was supposed to be like? Sure, it wasn’t exactly at first sight, Tito had only felt a connection with her the second she opened her mouth, not the second he saw her, but what even was the difference at this point? How could he even think of the word love? It was a crush at first sight at best.

            No matter what they told themselves, Tito and Adeline couldn’t stop thinking about each other. Their constant texting the following days didn’t help either. The conversation was never boring enough to die, and when one of them fell asleep they picked up where they left off as soon as they were up in the morning. Sometimes, Adeline found herself giggling out loud because he reminded her of something he just remembered they laughed about when drinking tequila on her living room floor.

            It was Wednesday when Adeline found herself in her bed wishing she could talk to him like they did a few nights prior. There weren’t many boundaries with Tito, they were obviously flirting and open about it, so she didn’t hesitate to tell him she missed seeing him. His name flashed on her screen a second later with a cute picture of his drunk face she didn’t remember taking Saturday night. He was smiling like an idiot, obviously still half laughing, and his blue eyes were sparkling with joy. Adeline hadn’t seen it, but she knew he had one of her too.

“Hello,” she said a little shyly when she saw her face on the screen. She looked like a bit of a mess.

“Hi beautiful,” Tito grinned from his bed, his short hair somehow messed up from the pillow.

“Shut up,” Adeline covered her face with her hand, but he only laughed on the other hand of the line.

“You know, it’s not fair if you get to see me and I don’t,” he reminded her to make her drop her hand. “I missed seeing you too.”

“Mmh, so when are we having a repeat of Saturday night?” She asked him because he had vaguely mentioned making plans during the day.

“Never,” he rolled his eyes. “That headache was killing me. We could do something else, maybe dinner?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Beauvillier?” Adeline teased, hiding the way her heart jumped in her chest.

“Yeah, how do you feel about it?” His smile was as big as hers when he replied, confident she’d say yes based on the look on her face.

“I feel like I’m free tomorrow night and I’d love to go out.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” Tito thought of a restaurant to bring her to immediately, and he made a mental note to call for a reservation in the morning.

“It’s a date.”

.

            Hugging Tito when he came to pick her up felt natural to Adeline. Butterflies erupted in her stomach the second he knocked, and her heart was ready to beat out of her chest when his arms closed around her.

“Hi you,” he kissed her cheek and she just about melted against him.

“Hi,” Adeline greeted him and let go before she made things awkward. “You look nice.” She complimented as she took notice of the navy shirt he was wearing. It matched the blouse she wore tucked in her tweed skirt. August wasn’t too cold in Montreal and she knew she’d be okay with tights.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “You look great too, I like your hair like that.” Tito had to stop himself from reaching up and touching it “Are you ready to go?”

            Adeline murmured a quick thanks and nodded while her cheeks burned. She wasn’t easily intimidated but something about the prospect of a date with Tito was making her nervous. What if they didn’t click now that they were sober and seeing each other in person?

“Hey, everything okay?” Tito asked once they were both sitting in his car and Adeline still hadn’t said a word.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…” She coughed a little to clear her throat and he finished the sentence for her.

“Nervous?”

“Kind of.”

“Me too,” he admitted and glanced at her for a second, keeping his main focus on the road. “That night was great, I just want everything to live up to those expectations now,”

“I feel the same,” Adeline told him, her nerves settling now that she knew he could relate. “But if we can get along when we’re drunk and stupid we can handle a first date, right?”

“Right, as long as you don’t make me sleep on your living room floor tonight, we’re good,” Tito joked, he could still feel the ache in his back.

“First of all, you passed out on said floor, I didn’t make you. Second, bold of you to assume you’re getting invited in again.” She laughed at him. Thoughts of how the night would end had filled her mind all day long despite all the work she had to get done, but none of the scenarios involved him sleeping at her place yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want it, but it was far too early for something like that. She didn’t want to risk ruining whatever was between them by rushing in.

“What if I bring fries?” He pushed his luck, but it was all playful, and Adeline shook her head again.

“Nice try, but you’re feeding me before we get home this time,”

“Mmh, I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” He rested his hand on her knee, and she moved a little closer to him until the end of the drive.

            Tito didn’t get invited in that night, and he was okay with it. He would have been okay with anything after the way she kissed him in front of her door. Maybe it was stupid, but he’d never gotten a kiss like that after a date that didn’t end up leading to something more too fast. There was something more between him and Adeline, and this was easily the best kiss of his life.

“Is that too soon?” She had hesitated, her hand on his cheeks and lips less than an inch away from his.

“No,” Tito replied, anything else he might have wanted to say cut off by her kiss. His body melted against hers, his hand pulling her waist closer as they moved their lips slowly, exchanging a passionate yet sweet kiss.

            He replayed the moment in his mind the whole ride home, grinning stupidly and humming along to songs on the radio with renewed cheerfulness. For a while he thought they’d keep kissing in front of her door forever, but noise from a door slamming upstairs reminded them they were still in a corridor. With a few nervous chuckles and one last kiss, Tito had left, and now nothing could ruin his good mood.

            That date was followed by another the next week, and another a few days later, until they were so attached to each other they spent every free second they had together. Tito sometimes showed up to her place in the morning with coffee and a bagel from her favorite café so that he could drive her to work. When it was time for her lunch break he’d pick her up and they’d eat out somewhere.

            Since it was the off season he didn’t have many obligations, and while Adeline insisted he didn’t have to drive her everywhere, Tito just really wanted to. He usually spent the morning in the gym to stay in shape, and he used the afternoon to see some friends and his family. Every other moment was reserved for Adeline only.

            Her internship kept her busy outside of working hours too, but she always managed to make him fit in her schedule and doubled her efforts on some nights to be free during others. It was tough but Adeline’s motivation had never been higher, there was so much happiness in her life that no task seemed too big to accomplish.

            Before meeting him, she’d spend all her free time outside or writing poems, which Tito often said she should still do without him. He didn’t want to take away from her personal space and habits, but she simply shook her head and shut him up with a kiss every time. She had never been more inspired than she was when he was around, and her poems gained in quality and length even with less time spent working on them. They weren’t the work of her brain, but of her heart.

“You got me flowers?” Adeline beamed one evening when he picked her up and she spotted the bouquet in the car.

“I should have hidden it in the back,” Tito sighed at the ruined surprise. “But yeah, I haven’t done that for you before. Do you like them?”

“I love pink gerberas,” she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

            The rest of the drive was quiet, and when they reached her apartment, Tito got to come inside with her for the first time since they were drunk together. Adeline placed the flowers in a vase at the center of her dinner table and smiled to herself. They matched her coasters; it was her favorite color when it came to flowers. It was only a lucky guess, but Tito really had a way to make her swoon with every little gesture.

“It’s not very big, but let me show you around properly this time,” Adeline had cleaned the previous day and made sure to make her bed in the morning so that she could show him.

            They spent the end of the day together, Adeline cooking for both of them and Tito doing dishes as she cooked to help out. It was nice and comfortable, but they were both more than happy when they could finally crash on the couch together.

“Wanna watch something?” She asked, cuddled against his chest. She could have stayed like that forever, just listening to his heartbeat, but she didn’t want him to get bored.

“Mmh, what are you thinking?” Tito rested a hand in the middle of her back, relaxing into her warmth and the soft comforting smell of her place.

“You pick,” Adeline turned the TV on, picked Netflix and handed him the remote so that he could scroll through what was available.

“TV show or movie?” He took note of the things she was currently watching as he scrolled down, and she shrugged against him.

“Movie?” She decided randomly. Her only thought was that she didn’t want him to leave after just one episode of a TV show.

            It was clear they were attracted to each other, but everything had been so perfect in their relationship so far that neither pushed for dates to end with more than a kiss. Adeline’s work was a lot to handle on some days, and she was exhausted on most nights, so Tito never felt like insisting he should come in, even just to spend the night cuddling. He knew he’d keep her up forever because they could rarely stop talking once they started.

            He picked a movie that looked half decent with her approval, oblivious to the fact that neither of them was planning on watching it anyway. Adeline only wanted to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms like that, and he couldn’t care less about anything in the world as long as he could feel her against him.

“You ever think of how crazy it is that we started getting along so well so fast?” She eventually whispered, wondering if he was one to talk during movies or if he liked watching them without interruption.

            The usual answer would have been without interruption, but Tito was much more interested in Adeline than in the movie that night.

“I do, yeah,” he rubbed motions with his thumb on her back. “And it just makes me glad I found you,”

“I feel good around you,” Adeline lifted her head so that she could look at him for a second, she was met with a soft smile, followed by an even softer kiss.

“Should we…” He panted as she kissed back with a little more purpose. “Should we maybe ditch the movie?” Her lips moved to his cheek and down his jaw, making him bite back a groan until she was leaving kisses on his neck and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Yes,” she didn’t hesitate in her answer, lifting herself off him.

            Tito got up after her and pulled her back to him for a passionate kiss, both of them stumbling as she tried to step back towards her bedroom. They chuckled against each other before parting long enough to make it there, and the heaviness of the moment settled on them when they finally sat on the bed.

            Adeline got a condom out of her bedside drawer and placed it on the bed so that they wouldn’t have to worry about it later, and as soon as that was done Tito’s lips were back on hers. Feeling him close to her helped her relax, so she followed his guiding hands until she was straddling him and sitting back on his thighs.

            There was no rush to their movements, they made out slowly and let their hands wander to begin exploring each other, over their clothes at first, and then slipping underneath the fabrics. Their shirts were first to go, and the sight of their bodies like that was enough for them both to need a moment to just breathe. When their lips joined and they found themselves chest to chest again, the desire and heat of the kiss grew stronger.

            Tito’s hands were on her waist, caressing softly before trailing up her back and finding the clasp of her bra. He murmured a question between kisses, and the breathy yes he got in response encouraged him to undo the clasp and remove the material from her body.

            His touches were gentle, pulling quiet gasps out of her as soon as he left her lips to kiss over her neck, looking for the tender spots that made her hips roll so close to his. Adeline’s hands were on his chest, discovering every muscle and the way they clenched when he moved to gently push her back on the mattress. She resisted the urge to hide herself from him, and Tito was nothing but loving as he found the spots that made her breathing hitch with the tips of his fingers.

            Her jeans were next to go, her underwear following a second after while she tugged at Tito’s clothes to get him to remove them too. She used the opportunity to get him on his back and kissed her way down his chest, earning a quiet moan that turned her on so much she almost moaned back just from the noise.

“Baby,” Tito breathed out when her lips pressed over the bulge in his boxers. “Not tonight, please,” his chest was rising and falling faster.

“Okay,” she listened and lifted her head to kiss his stomach again instead, but he could still see the silent question in her eyes.

“You’re going to kill me if you do this right now.” He explained as he reversed the position, adjusting her until she was comfortably resting on a pillow.

“That’s why it’s so fun,” Adeline grinned, and he laughed before their lips met again.

            The kiss was a little messier because of how hard it was for them to stop smiling, but everything intensified when Tito’s fingers found a spot high up on her inner thigh that made her whimper into his mouth.

“That okay?” He whispered close to her ear, kissing the spot just underneath it as she gasped her affirmation.

            He didn’t waste another second before slowly sliding two of his fingers against her and rubbing gentle circles over her clit. Adeline clutched his back in response, moaning softly and moving her hips up for more contact. She was overwhelmed by everything about him, from the light scratch of his beard against her skin when he nibbled at her jaw, the warmth of his almost-naked body close to hers, to the incredible feeling of his fingers rubbing against her perfectly.

            Tito held back moans that threatened to come out just from feeling her dripping for him. He kissed her deeply as he slowly slid his fingers further down and inside of her, his thumb replacing them over her clit. The noises she made into his mouth made him roll his hips against the mattress for some relief, and his chest swelled with pride every time he felt her body react to his touch.

            There had been so much anticipation between them, such a long build up and so many kisses that lingered as they both ached for more, that it didn’t take long for Adeline to feel herself get close to the edge. She clutched Tito’s back harder, holding onto him for dear life as she tried to keep her legs still to let him keep going.

            Her moans and gasps sped up when he let go of her lips and opted for kissing her neck instead to let her breathe, and it all encouraged him to pick up his pace, curling his fingers into her sweet spot until he could feel her body trembling. Adeline’s jaw dropped as she came, her legs closing over Tito’s hand, but it didn’t stop him from moving his fingers slowly to ride her through it.

            He was slow to pull his hand away when her body finally relaxed again, peppering kisses over her face. She wanted to bask in the feeling forever, but the second Tito pulled away from her to shuffle his boxers off, a new kind of hunger overtook her. She didn’t give him time to come back on top of her, pushing herself up and straddling him again instead.

            Tito made quick work of the condom before her lips could latch back onto his and they found themselves chest to chest with no barrier between them. Adeline’s legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed her ass to pull her to him. They stared into each other’s eyes, resting their foreheads together and sometimes letting their noses brush before Tito reached between their bodies and finally placed his tip at her entrance.

            He didn’t break eye contact for a second as he filled her slowly, tightening his grip around her until they were as close as they could get to each other. The kiss they shared let them swallow each other’s moans and groans as they began rocking together, barely pulling away from each other before making their bodies meet again.

            The temperature rose fast in the room, and a thin layer of sweat covered their skin as they clung to each other. Adeline had never felt this close to someone before, and she had to bury her face in his neck to escape the overwhelming intensity of her feelings when she looked into his eyes.

            Tito pulled her even closer at that, grinding against her and softly moaning every time she clenched around him. He was right on the edge, trying to hold back to get her to come one last time, but everything about her felt like heaven to him. His lips found her shoulder, leaving a few kisses there as he felt himself lose control, his thighs clenching hard while his teeth lightly dug into her skin.

            His pleasured groan got Adeline to fall apart right after him, her body tightening beautifully in his arms as the noises leaving her lips echoed his. They breathed heavily against each other, remaining still for a few minutes and just letting themselves enjoy the afterglow close together.

            Tito pulled away first, carefully letting her down on the bed and kissing her one last time before heading to her bathroom to dispose of the condom. She took a turn in there to clean up right after him, and as soon as she was back in bed, she cuddled close to his chest again.

“Was that okay?” He kissed the top of her head, and her chest shook with a chuckle.

“That wasn’t okay,” Adeline shuffled up so that they could be face to face. “It was amazing,”

“Yeah?” He beamed and she nodded, angling her head to ask for another kiss.

            Tito gave in easily, humming against her lips while she guided him onto his back and rested her forearms on his torso to look at him.

“I’m falling in love with you,” she breathed out without hesitation, looking straight into his eyes and watching them widen as soon as he processed the words.

“I’m falling in love with you too,” he managed to answer even with the breath knocked out of his lungs. “I’m falling so hard.”

.

            Their honeymoon phase lasted as long as Tito’s time in Montreal did.

She even met his parents one weekend, and a few of his friends through the weeks. It was all too perfect until his last week before having to get back to New York came along.

“What’s going to happen when you’re in New York?” Adeline addressed it as they walked in a park together on his last Monday in Montreal, her hand in his. It was late and a little cold, but the darkness was calm.

“I’m not sure,” Tito swallowed heavily, looking straight ahead because there was no good solution. “I just… I want whatever’s best for you,”

“You’re what’s best for me, I don’t want to lose you.” Her hand slipped from his as they stopped walking and turned to face each other.

            Adeline searched his eyes for an answer, but her fears kept growing with every passing moment. The feelings she had for Tito were unlike anything she ever experienced before, and she was terrified of seeing their relationship end. It was the last thing she could ever want, but he had to make the best decision for his career.

“Then I’m yours,” he reached out and grasped both of her hands in his, bringing them up to kiss her knuckles. “I know not everyone can handle long distance but… but we can’t know until we try, right?”

“Right,” she exhaled her relief and squeezed his hands tighter.

“And New York isn’t the other side of the world, we can see each other on weekends,” Tito continued, trying to work things out in his head and reassure her as well as he could.

“Weekends work,” Adeline nodded, biting back a wave of tears, but her eyes watered anyway.

“Baby, please don’t,” he cupped her face with both hands and ran his thumbs over her cheeks while she wrapped her arms around him. “I know work will make it hard for you to travel, but I’ll come up as often as I can, okay?”

“Yeah,” she hid her face into his chest and took a deep breath to calm down. Nothing soothed her better than being close to him.

“We’ll make it work. I promise.” He rocked her gently from side to side in his arms. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”

“I really- I didn’t think it was possible for me to fall in love like that.” Adeline kissed over his heart, making him tighten his arms around her.

“Me neither, and I know it won’t be easy every day, but it’s all going to be worth it, yeah?” Tito tilted her face up so that their noses brushed.

“Loving you makes it all worth it.” She whispered, closing her eyes and falling for him harder with every press of his lips against hers.

.

            The first month was easy.

They had just spent so much time together that it didn’t feel like the distance would ever be an issue, Tito came up to Montreal for three days, and despite all her work Adeline managed to visit one weekend too.

            Sweet attentions helped them push through too, Adeline sent him letters with handwritten poems in them, things he inspired and she thought were worth sharing. Tito sent her flowers and so many loving good morning texts that there was no way she’d ever wake up and start her day without feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

            Their time together was a little hectic, a mix of dates to spend quality time together and just staying in bed without letting go of each other unless it was for a few hours of sleep in between. The rhythm was tiring, no matter how close New York and Montreal were, travelling was exhausting. It meant waking up early to go to the airport and have enough time to get through security, and it also meant getting home late at the end of the trip with an early morning start right after.

            Still, they were in love and they made it work.

When Christmas came around they felt like they were pros at handling their relationship. Adeline took days off to come spend time in New York so that she could see more of Tito’s world and finally meet Mat, and he came back to Canada for Christmas with his family.

            They didn’t spend the holidays together per say, but they saw each other so often that it felt like they did anyway. Every important moment was spent together, Adeline came over to his house on Christmas morning to open gifts and have lunch with his parents, and Tito spent New Year’s Eve at a party her friends organized. They got to exchange a sickeningly sweet kiss just as the year started and whispered their promise to love each other forever.

            When hockey became a priority again and Tito had to leave, everything felt bittersweet. The moments they had together felt like they were stolen, something they had to work for because nothing fit in their lives unless they forced it to. There was never a weekend when they could both be free unless Adeline managed to figure out a way to get a break from work, and even when she had things to do, Tito still flew up to see her during the moments she had to spare over two days. His games were getting more important, and the team was already dealing with injuries, so he was having a hard time handling everything without letting anyone down.

            Their relationship was strong, but when March rolled around neither of them was truly happy.

“You’re exhausted,” Adeline pointed out something she had been noticing more and more every time he visited. Now, the dark circles under his eyes were visible even through the shitty quality of their call.

“I’m alright,” Tito lied again to stop her from worrying and gave her a weak smile. “You think you’ll be free next weekend?”

“There’s no way you’re travelling again next weekend,” she shook her head, refusing to ask him to put so much effort in again when he clearly needed the rest.

“Well can you come down?” He broke it down to what he thought was simple. If she could move, she’d come visit him. If she couldn’t, he’d come visit her.

“No, I’m stuck this month, I told you,” Adeline sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Her internship was getting closer to its end and the prospect of a job was real, so she was being drowned in extra work so that she could prove she deserved to stay. As much as she wanted to see Tito to be able to relax in his arms, she knew his training was even more intense than what she had to do.

“Then I’m coming to you,” he insisted again, so Adeline sharpened her tone.

“The hell you are.” She gave him the glare he had received many times before. It was the one that told him ‘I love you but you’re being an idiot,’ and if things were normal, Tito would have laughed and agreed with whatever she wanted.

“So you don’t want to see me now?” He got offended instead, unable to understand why she wouldn’t want him to come. He was doing everything he could to make things work, no matter what.

“Not in that state!” She shot back, feeling tears brimming in her eyes. She was calmer as she spoke her next words. “Tito please, just get some rest… I miss you like hell all the time, but this… it’s not worth it. I’d rather see you a little less and in better shape, okay? We can facetime every night this week or something to make up for it if you want,”

“It’s not the same as holding you,” Tito’s emotions settled too, as defeated as he felt, she was right.

“I know champ, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. Get some rest, okay?”

She made him promise he’d slow down, but Tito didn’t last long. He figured that if he trained extra hard by going to the gym earlier and spent more time on the ice then he’d deserve to spend his days off with her.

Everything was going in the opposite direction of what she asked, but he couldn’t let himself rest if it meant he wouldn’t see her.

“Wake the fuck up!” Anders slammed into him on the ice and sent him stumbling a few feet away. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Tito gritted his teeth, anger clear in his features.

            The captain muttered something under his breath as he skated away, hoping this would be enough to get him to concentrate until the end of the practice at least. It was the third time in a row he missed a pass to Mat, something that almost never happened. The two best friends had chemistry even on the ice, they worked well together, but Anthony was fucking everything up lately and the team wouldn’t take it for much longer.

“Alright,” Anders stood in front of him in the locker room once everyone else was gone and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,”

“Beau,” His captain gave him a look. “You’re a good player, but you haven’t played right in two weeks at practice. Thank fuck you’re still alright when we have games, but how long is that gonna last, uh?”

“I’m not going to let the team down.” Anthony promised, and the other man sighed.

“I know you don’t want to, so get your shit together. It’d be a waste to have you sitting on a bench during every game, especially because of some girl,” Anders made his point and watched him get offended, his voice rising as he spoke again.

“Adeline is-”

“I don’t care what Adeline is.” Anders snapped to cut him off. “Adeline is not here, and she’s not worth ruining a career over. If you don’t start showing some proper skills you won’t be playing next time there’s an important game. I need to know I can count on you to be part of the team.”

“You can count on me.” Tito’s jaw was clenched, he was angry, but now was not a good time to lash out. He knew the threat was real, and Anders was probably doing him a favor having this talk with him now rather than letting him get ripped apart by coaches.

“Then start by getting some sleep. You look like shit.” His captain concluded, dropping his arms by his side and walking out of the room, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts.

.

            Tito tried his best to fix himself over the next week. He got a smile from Anders when things finally went right at practice, and everyone on the team felt relief when they realized they were getting their player back. Everyone thought things were fine except Mat.

            He could see past the fake smiles; he could see the hurt in his friend’s eyes when he came to hang out with the team on Saturday nights instead of flying to Montreal to be with the woman he so desperately loved. It wasn’t healthy.

            Even when Mat tried to start a conversation he got shut out, Tito wasn’t sharing much with anyone anymore. He was the shell of the player and friend he used to be, so lost in his love for Adeline that he didn’t even realize he was forgetting parts of himself.

“Adeline?” Mat eventually ended up on the phone with her, half of his brain screaming this was the stupidest thing to do and the other half saying it was the only solution. He didn’t want to get in his best friend’s business, but he at least needed to know what was going on on her end.

“Yeah, what’s up Mat?” She took a break from the chapter of the novel she was editing and pushed her chair away from her desk.

“I’m just- I’m sorry I’m calling, I know it’s fucked, but Tito isn’t talking to me and I’m wondering if you’ve heard a lot from him the past few days?”

“Yeah, he’s always texting or calling. Did you guys have a fight or something?” Adeline frowned. Not talking to Mat wasn’t normal, ever since she met Tito she’d been hearing all about his best friend and how well they got along. She also would have expected Tito to mention it to her if something happened.

“No, I mean, yeah. Sort of. He’s been playing like shit at practice, so Anders tried to knock some sense into him, and not very kindly,” Mat explained with a sigh, which only made her worry more.

“Oh. What does that have to do with you?” She asked so that she could finally connect the dots, and the response she got was not what she had expected.

“Well Anders said something about how he shouldn’t let some girl fuck up a whole career, and, uh, it was a shitty thing to say, so I tried to put it more nicely, and he didn’t like it.”

“Right,” she looked down at her lap and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Was that how the team felt about her? Like she was some girl messing with one of their best players? And if so, wasn’t it her responsibility to make sure she didn’t interfere with his career?

“You’re not fucking up anything, it’s not what I meant,” he quickly caught himself. “But Tito’s just… he’s not himself lately. He’s pretending he’s okay but the travelling back and forth is seriously getting to him, he’s not sleeping, he’s just a mess. It’s bad for the team, and he’s my best friend, I’m worried about him,” Mat was quiet as he spoke the end of his sentence, and she was glad he couldn’t see her.

“I just… I’m not sure what I can do about that Mat,” Adeline felt the tears brimming in her eyes, because she knew.

There was only one way to fix this, and she had been avoiding it for weeks already. The day Tito left Montreal they promised each other they’d do anything to make things work, that they’d never stop trying, but was this promise more important than his health?

“Can you try to talk to him, please? Just make him rest for one weekend,” Mat brought her back to earth as he asked, as if that was all Anthony needed. It would be a start, but it was far from enough. He was already staying in New York most of the time, and it was barely helping.

“I keep telling him to stay home,” she reminded him while pressing her palms over her eyes.

“So he’s not listening to you either?” Mat’s heart deflated at that. He knew his best friend was stubborn, but he didn’t think he’d turn away every attempt you all made to get him to take care of himself.

“No… I’d come if I could, but work doesn’t really allow it right now. I’ll try to get him to stay in New York for the next two weeks, hopefully I’ll get somewhere by talking to him,” Adeline promised herself to make more efforts, to give it one more try in case that was all they needed to make things work again.

“Okay,” he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, hoping that by the end of those two weeks things would look a bit better.

“Are you thinking of anything else?” She prompted him after he turned quiet, and Mat sighed.

“No, you’re… you were really good for him at the start, you know?” He delved into the part he probably shouldn’t be saying out loud, but he needed her to understand how bad things were. “It made him so happy, and I know you guys are still happy together, but with the way things are right now, he’s messing himself up. Badly. It’s not your fault, I just hope you guys can find a balance that works for you both again.”

“I’ll figure it out, have a nice day Mat,” Adeline put an end to the conversation, and he rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed.

“Yeah, you too.”

.

            When Tito called her less than twenty minutes later, he couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to talk. Adeline declined his call after the second ring and told him she’d call later even though they had planned on talking to each other at that time. Her lack of texts and explanations made him overthink everything, so when Mat and a few other guys showed up to his place an hour later, he wasn’t in the mood to hang out anymore.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mat told him when he expressed his concern. “Just have a beer and chill out,”

“You can’t be sure she’s fine,” Tito argued as he grabbed the beer and took three long gulps.

“I talked to her for a bit today, so she’s fine. She’ll probably call you tomorrow, yeah?” Mat let the information slip because he figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Adeline was bound to tell him at some point anyway.

“You talked to her?” Tito frowned, the information not sitting well with him. Mat barely knew Adeline; they hadn’t gotten many chances to hang out because Tito always hogged her attention whenever she was around.

“Uh, yeah,” Mat was suddenly more than uncomfortable. He didn’t want to lie to his friend, but with the way he was reacting he felt like he would have been much better off keeping his mouth shut.

“And now she’s not picking up my calls.” Anthony grew suspicious, and the look on Mat’s face didn’t reassure him in the least. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

“I just told her I’m worried about you, you’re not yourself lately.” He admitted, feeling like being honest was the best option.

Tito didn’t lose his cool easily, but somehow this made him angry.

“Can’t you all stop with that? I’m fine.” He replied harshly, and Mat kept his mouth shut.

He thought for a second looking at the wall ahead of him and nodding. Mat was done fighting, he had offered his help, he was there to listen, but he wasn’t going to sit and let Anthony get mad at him when he was only trying to show he cared.

“Yeah, right.” Mat got up and headed out of the room, abandoning him to his thoughts.

            Tito sighed and checked his phone to distract himself, knowing he had to get out there and apologize in a minute or two. A text from Adeline caught his attention, and his mood lifted instantly.

I’ll be in New York tomorrow

            He almost screamed right there, but he bit his lip and contained his smile instead as he typed back.

For real?? What time am I picking you up?

            He had been feeling so off, he couldn’t wait to hold her. It had been too long since he got to see her and it was hard for him to hide his excitement.

I’ll just meet you at your place

��           The response Tito received made his heart deflate. Something was wrong. He always picked her up from the airport, he’d done it every single time, so why shouldn’t he do it tomorrow? Between his conversation with Mat and that, the uneasiness he had felt since the declined call only increased.

“You okay?” Brassard asked as he walked out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, I’m just not in the mood tonight,” he walked past everyone and went straight for his bedroom, closing the door and locking it so no one could come bother him.

            It wasn’t fair to shut his friends out like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore, he was in a constant state of numbness when he was in New York. Playing hockey helped, the games put him in the right mindset, but as soon as he stepped off the ice his world fell apart all over again.

            Adeline was the only thing keeping him together, but she was also the reason he was being torn apart. She had watched it happen too, she saw the way it started, his sudden disinterest for anything that wasn’t hockey or her, the sadness she caused and tried to fix so hard. She thought that with more time together their time apart would be easier, but nothing she did helped Tito work it out. Their relationship had been rushed, they fell in love and their feelings for each other became an obsession, one Anthony couldn’t manage anymore.

            He was only happy when she was with him, but even then parts of himself were missing.

            Mat and the other guys left soon after he disappeared, giving up for the night and deciding they’d try to spend time with him another day. Anthony was too stubborn, there was no point in them staying. He didn’t care about what was going on that night, he couldn’t think of anything except Adeline.

            Just one night of sleep, one day of work and she’d be in his arms.

            Tito was in his head and time flew by, so when he made it home the next night he was constantly checking his phone to know where she was. She texted when she landed, so he was waiting close to the door when he knew she was about to arrive.

            The front door was open before she was even out of the elevator.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Tito let her walk in and pulled her into a hug to take in the sweet scent of her perfume. His eyes fell shut as he finally felt his body relax. Adeline was the remedy to everything in his life, nothing felt better than having her close.

“Tito,” she pulled away a little as she spoke, trying to put some distance between them.

“Mmh?” He kept his hands on her waist, tugging her against him because he wasn’t ready to part from the hug just yet.

“Anthony, stop,” she pushed on his shoulders and took a step back. “I’m here because I need to talk to you.”

“What’s going on?” Tito frowned at the use of his full name. Deep down, he had known for days that something was coming, but now that he had to face it he didn’t feel prepared enough at all.

            A heaviness settled over the room, the usual playful and happy atmosphere of their reunions nowhere to be found.

“I don’t think we should be doing this anymore.” Adeline said, her hands linked together in front of her.

            The words hung in the air for several seconds. There was an apologetic look in her eyes as she waited for Tito to react, his expression going from shock, to panic, and to confusion all within a few seconds. He had expected her to want to talk, to ask for a break from things at worst.

This was something he had never considered.

“What?” He whispered, unable to form a word any louder than that.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re not happy like this,” she felt her heart break as he stammered to start a sentence. He looked exhausted, there were dark circles under his eyes, and now his features were twisted in pain.

“Adeline, don’t. You- you don’t know what you’re saying, I’m fine, and-” Tito struggled to say anything coherent, he spoke too fast, but he was scared that if he didn’t say anything she’d vanish.

“You’re not fine. You’re not in the right headspace to train because you’re always thinking of how to get away from New York, you’re not focusing on what should matter to you the most and you’re making yourself sick because you’re not sleeping,” Adeline shook her head, looking down to avoid crying. She couldn’t take the look in his eyes, they used to be so full of joy, but now the blue was dulled by tears that blurred his vision.

“I am sleeping,” he croaked weakly and reached for her.

“That’s not the point!” She stepped back to dodge his touch. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him on this for long, he held too much power over her, she’d cave in no time if she let him touch her. “This was never the point. You were right, not everyone can do long distance and we couldn’t know unless we tried. Now we know, it’s not working out.” She swallowed back her sob and took a shaky breath in to calm down.

“Adeline, please,” Tito shook his head, teardrops rolling down his cheeks already. “No, please,” he didn’t know what else to do but beg.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up. As hard as it was, he deserved at least that, but the broken look in his eyes made her fall apart.

“No! You’re the love of my life, I can’t just let you go,” he refused to go down without a fight, not when she was the only woman he had ever loved. He saw his entire life with her, they could have everything together, and he couldn’t let it go so easily.

“You have to. I’m asking you to.” Adeline wiped her thumbs underneath her eyes to catch her tears. She knew he’d respect her decision, no matter how much he hated it, because he always respected boundaries. She just had to tell him she didn’t want him anymore, and that was the hardest part, having to lie to protect him. “This isn’t healthy for you, and frankly, it’s not healthy for me either. I’m always on my phone, I can barely focus on work because I’m wondering when you’ll be free to call, I’m going to sleep so fucking late every time we call and I just… I just can’t keep doing this any longer knowing it’s hurting you.” She explained, and he used that time to settle his breathing.

“We can work through a rough patch,” his voice was a little raspy, but he pushed through. “I’ll… I’ll stay in New York for longer periods, and we can schedule calls so that it’s not as messy,” Tito brought up every solution he could think of, but she already knew they were pointless.

“You’re making this so hard,” Adeline sniffled quietly, glancing down at her feet again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind.”

“So that’s just… it?” He felt like he’d just received a punch to the stomach. Adeline looked up as he took a step back, shaking his head a little and looking completely lost.

“I guess,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

“I’m in love with you, isn’t that worth trying a little bit harder?” Tito couldn’t believe the feelings settling inside his chest. He was slowly processing every word she had said, and there were so many things wrong with this conversation. What happened to their promise?

“You think I haven’t tried hard enough? You think I haven’t tried my fucking hardest?” Adeline let the tears flow down her cheeks, and her chest shook with a sob, but she fought to keep her voice steady.

“Well you’re the one giving up now!” He clenched his jaw, sniffling loudly and tugging at his hair in despair. The hurt had kicked in, and he was angry now.

“Because you’re not okay! And I had to find out from your best friend because you keep lying to me and you’re not taking care of yourself!” She raised her voice to his level, and he scoffed, pacing around his living room.

“Mat doesn’t fucking know what I’m doing, if I’m saying I can handle it, then I can handle it!” Tito was sick of everyone around him telling him how to feel and what to do. Focus, train harder, take a break, sleep, travel, don’t travel, call me, don’t call me, spend time with friends, call your family. It was all too much, and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mat just asked me to check up on you, and he was right, you’re not fine, and I’m the reason you keep getting worse. I just can’t do this anymore,” Adeline’s voice softened to hide the way it cracked halfway through, but he caught it anyway.

“Fucking great.” He bit his cheek to stop himself from breaking down. Watching her like this, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, was destroying him. She felt the pain too, and he was causing it.

“You’re angry, and I get it,” Adeline took a deep breath in and dropped her hands by her sides, wondering when he’d snap. She was the one giving up, so she was ready to take it. “I’m so sorry, this isn’t how I pictured things going between us... I’ll just go… I’m really sorry.” She turned around, ready to walk out so that she could break down somewhere he wouldn’t see her.

            It was better if he was mad at her, his anger was much easier to handle than the look he first gave her.

“Adeline wait,” Tito crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped his hand around her arm before she could reach the door.

“What are you-” Adeline turned around to face him and he released her arm to hold her waist instead.

“Just one more.” He murmured with his lips so close to hers she could already feel how soft they were through a brush. “Please, just one last night,”

            He kissed her to stop her from replying, to stop her from thinking rationally, and to fucking beg her to give him this last thing. Adeline wasn’t strong enough to pull away. Instead, she melted into his touch and responded to the kiss with a passion fueled by her heart falling into pieces.

            Just one last time, she told herself as she kept on kissing him, blindly letting him walk back to his bedroom.

            They could taste the saltiness of their tears as they moved their lips together, tangled in each other with her straddling him and her legs around his waist, just like they had been the first night they were together like that. They didn’t exchange any words, kissing and hiding their faces whenever they had to so that they wouldn’t see the other breaking inside.

It was all too much and not enough, so when Tito kept her tight against his chest to lay in bed, Adeline didn’t fight him. She closed her eyes and bit back tears, pretending she wasn’t about to leave so that he would let himself fall asleep.

Tito was safe with her so close, his grip was tight, he wasn’t ever letting her go. It was what he told himself as he drifted off to sleep, telling himself they’d talk in the morning, that he’d find a way to convince her they could still fix things.

.

            Adeline felt like her heart was being torn apart when she crawled out of his arms in the early hours of the morning. She hadn’t slept for a second, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up. For a moment, she even thought she should stay. What if Tito was right? What if he could stay in New York for more time? They could schedule the calls like he said to make things easier.

The idea disappeared from her mind with every moment she spent looking at him, fast asleep in his bed when he used to always wake up whenever she moved. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was exhausted, and she was only making it worse. Leaving was the only way.

Adeline grabbed as much of her things as she could carry and got dressed in the living room as quietly as possible, but with how hard she was crying she was surprised none of her sobs had woken Tito up yet. A few of her things were still in his room, but it was nothing she desperately needed back, and if she woke him up she’d never be able to leave. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from going into his bedroom to look at him one more time.

He was so beautiful when he slept, so peaceful and relaxed. Adeline wished she could see him smile one more time, just to be able to admire the spark in his eyes whenever he did. She knew that if he woke up they’d only be filled with sadness and fear, all because of her, so she took a deep breath and scribbled one last thing on a post it note, placing it on her pillow before leaving his apartment silently.

.

            An hour later the sun was up, and Tito was shaking as he woke up. He sat up immediately to grab the cold bed sheets on her side of the bed. It all felt like a nightmare. The bedroom was silent apart from his heavy breathing, and he turned his light on before looking around for any sign she was still here.

            After they held each other so tightly during the night, the way they loved each other, how could she have left? Tears stung in his eyes as he took notice of everything in his room. Her clothes were gone from the floor, her notebook wasn’t on the nightstand, and he could see his closet cracked open with two empty shelves. Her shelves.

            Tito’s heart tightened in his chest as the reality of the situation hit him. His body was tense but he couldn’t move. His whole world was falling apart, he was completely lost, scrambling for something, anything he could hold onto.

He found it in a single blue post-it note on his pillow, her pretty cursive handwriting recognizable easily.

I’m sorry,

A

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Please reblog and let me know what you thought!! Writing is a lot of time and effort, I appreciate all comments, asks and reblogs more than you know <3

[taliaromanovaswife]

Exothermic

Summary: Meet the original character, plagued by amnesia after an accident. But what if a certain deadly assassin is the cure for that? 

Warnings: softly NSFW... like, it could be worse? Little swearing

The sound of her own, slow footsteps was her only companion on this evening's stroll through the sterile, clean corridors. Though barely audible, the noise was almost deafening to her and yet it did not manage to stop her mind from reeling. Nothing around her seemed familiar, starting with her room and ending with the smell of the hallways. There was absolutely nothing that managed to jog her memory so far, and it irked her. Apparently, she was a member of the greatest team of heroes that walked the Earth, but every time she looked into their faces, her brain could not connect the dots. And worst of all, every Avenger had told her that they were not allowed to help her; that her amnesia had to fade on its own terms and that telling her the truth could make it worse in the end. So, here she was. Eight weeks after an accident where she had been thrown through a window on the first floor, discharged from the hospital because her wounds were healing nicely, yet she still did not remember anything from her past. Nothing, except for her name, age and powers, but even that information was given to her.

Alexandra, twenty-five, defender and healer – whatever that was supposed to mean.

Pressing her palms against her temple, she scoffed and rolled her eyes at herself. Nothing happened, just like nothing had happened since the day she regained consciousness. She had no clue how her powers actually worked, but if she was a healer, then why was she unable to heal her own brain? “You're so stupid”, she cried out, banging the balls of her hands against her already aching head. “Why can't you work? I just want to know who the fuck I am?!”

She rounded another corner, walking past half a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows when she stopped dead in her tracks. Something in the corner of her eye had caught her attention, something she was unsure had been there before. Nevertheless, it was something that spoke to her and for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of familiarity warming up her insides.

Taking a chance, the tall blonde tried the door handle, happy to find it unlocked. After light brown eyes had scanned the area to make sure that she was alone, tentative feet slipped through a small gap, still wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her now. She had been walking these halls since she was brought home, but had never noticed a piano up here, or anywhere for that matter. Not even downstairs in the bar. ‘Too expensive’, the man who introduced himself as Tony Stark had said when she had asked. ‘The last one got destroyed by Ultron’, a muscular, tall, blond guy had added before receiving death glares from the rest of the group. Alexandra had no idea who Ultron was. How could she, if she was still unable to put the pieces of her own past back together? And what about her present? Did she even go by her full first name or did she prefer it was shortened to Alex? Or even Lexi? Did she like being an Avenger? How strong was her power, how strong was she? She did not know and they did not tell her. But she felt drawn to the piano, as if it was calling out for her and that feeling eased some of her frustration.

Carefully lifting the fall board and locking it in an upright position, shaky fingers pressed down a combination of keys that her brain did not remember, but her muscles certainly did. Muscle memory, she sighed. How could she remember this but not even the bare minimum of her life? Her most important muscle was not working the way it should. Slender hands pulled the matching black piano bench out from under the instrument and she sat down, her fingers gliding over the keys like second nature as her feet hit the pedals.

Suddenly, her mind flashed to a different time. A different piano was in front of her and perfectly manicured short, red-painted fingernails produced a tune she could not hear. But if Alexandra had to guess, she was reliving a tiny bit of her memory. Maybe, hopefully, this was the pivotal ingredient that she had been missing.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to work the way they knew how to, her vision not providing much help anyway. And as the melody filled the air and cautious fingertips became more confident of their skill, so did her feet. Alexandra was no expert in how muscle memory actually worked, but she could not explain what was happening right now any other way. Her mind drew blank on the names of the songs that she brought to life, and yet, somehow her brain knew what belonged together and when she transitioned to a new melody. So she kept playing, kept her eyes shut tight and let her emotions rage freely like a wildfire.

Alexandra was so lost in her creations, she did not register the other person entering the room, nor did she feel their presence. Her upper body leaned into the music, swayed with every crescendo and diminuendo. The music consumed her entire system, every nerve ending was accommodating to her trance as the cells in her brain sprang into action. Still, her fingers danced over black and white keys in the most beautiful pattern she had ever heard.

Natasha Romanoff was utterly captivated by the sight before her eyes, as mesmerizing and enthralling as ever. From the moment she had stepped into the room, she stood still and quiet, simply listening to the melody with a sad smile on her face. There was something magical about the way that Alexandra commanded the keys under the pads of her fingers and she was glad she had suggested buying a piano for the younger woman. It was minutes later that she slipped her ballet shoes on and tied the ribbons around her ankles, green eyes never leaving the figure behind the piano. Even as she pulled her red hair into a neat bun – years of practice making the need for a mirror unnecessary – her gaze was fixed on the musician, waiting. The assassin had noticed the slight change in the other hero's posture, the deeper breaths and the parted lips. She knew what was coming, long before Alexandra herself had figured it out.

Words formed in her head. If one were to ask her, Alexandra would say she did not know where they came from, her brain not remembering the song. But her heart did, even if it did not understand the meaning just yet. “Dancing around in the rain again.”, she sang, finding the lyrics to the accords she played. Her voice was soft and quiet, trembling with insecurity at first. 'Cause you said that I was my only friend. Playing with the flowers that I picked myself. Because I know they won't come from anybody else. Wrap myself up to warm my hands. From the biting ice that you made them stand.”

As her favorite voice filled the room, velvety and clear, Natasha began to stretch her tired muscles. Last week's mission had been tough on all of them, and the ache from multiple hits and countless falls still lingered in her bones. It could have been worse, but it also could have gone a lot smoother and with less injuries. Still, there was no pain that could stop her from being here, from dancing to Alexandra’s song. Not her bruised ribs and most definitely not her bandaged wrist – just a sprain, she told everybody.

Tears began to form behind her closed eyes. How could she remember songs but not her life? What kind of sick and twisted condition was this retrograde amnesia and why would it not let go of her? And while her fingers moved across the keys without any mistakes, and her feet operated the pedals below them, the first tears spilled down her cheeks. She just wanted to remember. “I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.”

Natasha's heart broke for the person, as it did every day since the accident. She had thought that the first few days had been the hardest, when no doctor was giving a clear statement whether or not she would wake from the coma. Then, when Alexandra did wake up but did not know who she was, did not recognize her, the agent's entire world fell apart. Adjustments had been made before the young Avenger had been released from the hospital, hushed conversations that would make everybody feel left out had become the norm around the blonde hero. But every look into Alexandra's sad eyes chipped away at the – usually put-together – assassin. Natasha shook those thoughts from her head as she carefully pushed herself onto her tip toes and raised her arms above her head, extending her index finger and pinkie into perfect position. Out of everything she had been trained in on her way to become one of the deadliest assassins in Russian history, ballet had always been her favorite and to this day, she still used dancing as a stress reliever.

Brown, teary eyes fluttered open and the music abruptly stopped. Her fingers halted over the keys, her mouth remained agape as she stared at the woman who was introduced to her as Natasha Romanoff. She thought she was alone, but there stood the beautiful Russian, dressed in tight black leggings, a matching form-fitting black bodice and a white silken skirt. “I’m-“ She pulled her fingers in, forming fists that slowly clenched and unclenched with every passing second, her heart rate speeding up to the same rhythm. Nervously chewing on her own bottom lip, she stared at her own hands and then back at the other woman. “Was I not supposed to be in here?”, she asked anxiously, Natasha’s intense green eyes seemingly staring right into her soul.

“Please don’t be scared”, the assassin replied. “This is your home, you can be in every room you want to be in, use everything you want or need.” Graciously lowering herself back onto her entire feet and resting her hands on her hips, the redhead tried reassuring her. “You should feel at home here.”

The words were mumbled, but Alexandra still caught it and scoffed. “And yet, everybody stops talking when I walk into a room”, the woman shot back, smoothing her palms over the long, honey-blonde braid and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy being me right now, whoever I am. But you did not deserve this.” Everybody around here had been nothing but amazing towards her, despite her condition. Sure, their conversations stopped or changed, but that did not mean that she was not included in whatever topic followed after. “I can go, if you want to-“

“Please don’t”, Nat said in a haste, stopping herself before she could say the name that lingered on the tip of her tongue. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that Alexandra’s memory was yet to come back. “Would you play for me?”, she asked quietly, her lips curling into a smile. “Your song was very beautiful and I would like to dance to it.”

The blonde eyed the assassin apprehensively. Was this a regular occasion? Did she used to sing for other people? “Damn it, you stupid brain”, she cursed under her breath, eliciting a light chuckle from Natasha. Thinking about the request for a moment, she finally agreed. “Only if I am allowed to watch you dance.”

“Always”, the redhead smiled, her body protesting slightly as she pushed herself into the releve pose. She steadied herself before finding Alexandra's eyes. “Ready when you are.”

As if nothing had stopped her in the first place, expert finger tips roamed over the keys, picking up where they had left off. Once again, the melody resonated in the air, but this time, Alexandra only had eyes for the gorgeous woman dancing for her. Every part of Natasha’s body appeared to be in sync with her music and somehow the blonde knew that this was not the first time she had twirled to this particular song. “Dancing around in the dark again. But I'm happier now than I ever was then. Feel my heart as it is ablaze. Making room for another in these better days. Days, days.” Forcefully pressing the keys into the instrument as the music became louder and more spirited, brown eyes followed Natasha’s every motion doing the same. She did not notice the two figures standing on the other side of the glass, staring and smiling at her.

Wanda sighed in content, listening to the sound of Alexandra's beautiful voice. She and Natasha always begged the young hero to sing for them, or at least play one of her favorite compositions for them. It helped with the stress after a long day of work. It eased their minds and both women knew that the same applied to Alexandra. “Do you think this will help her?”, the witch asked aloud, her Sokovian accent less prominent now that she was spending most of her time around Americans. Cocking her head to the left but never averting her eyes, she added, “Natasha could use a sliver of good news.”

Arms crossed over his chest, Steve observed as one of his oldest friends danced. He let out a long breath. “I really hope so. I don't know how long Nat can keep going like this. It's ripping her apart.” The super soldier truly admired the redhead for still walking tall. He was not sure he could do the same. “If this doesn't work, then I don't know what could, besides telling Alex the truth. And the doctor's strictly recommended not to do that. But-”

“But at this rate, our most deadliest and finest assassin is no use on missions”, Wanda finished his sentence with a soft nod while watching the Black Widow dance with an elegance unmatched by anything she had ever seen.

“I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.” Alexandra's vocal cords vibrated deep within her throat as her voice reverberated with every word she sang. Louder and louder. The keys molded to her every tap and she had to focus on keeping her eyes open. She never let Natasha out of sight, but as the song went on, it was harder and harder not to give in to the music and let her feelings take over. “Oh, watch me exo, o, o, o. Watch me exo burn this. I deserve it, ohh. I deserved this. I deserve it, oh! I deserve this, woah!”

The Russian's feet hit the parquet floor in a faster pattern now, her body spiraling with every pirouette. The position of her hands was immaculate, the satin skirt wafted with every turn and yet, every time she spun around, her eyes locked on Alexandra's. Watching the other woman play with such intensity, like nothing had changed in the past weeks, made her want to cry. But Natasha swallowed her emotions and danced until the blonde stopped playing. She came to a stop, her breathing ragged and the pain from her bruised ribs jabbing into her sides. Still, Nat regretted nothing.

Neither of them said a word or dared to move. The last notes had long since faded away, but they still felt connected through the music. An invisible bond both held onto, fearing that breaking the silence would involuntarily end this moment of peace.

It was Alexandra who moved first, carefully closing the fall board and rising to her feet. “This was nice, we should do this again.” The comment came with a smile. She had not felt this free in weeks and even though her memories did not return – she had hoped they would – the blonde felt a lot better. “Thank you for the dance, Natalia”, she said out of a habit she did not understand. Hearing the sentence, but specifically that name, falling from her own lips caused a chain reaction. She froze on the spot and went stiff as her brain was flooded with millions of memories from her past. Missions and fighting. Loki, Ultron. Iron Man, Thor, Captain America. The Hulk. Clint and Wanda, her brother Pietro. Vision. Her healing a gash on Natasha's temple. Natasha. Everything came back to her, and all at once. And as her brain completed the puzzle, everything began to make sense again. The last image she saw showed Natasha – her Natalia – in a simple white dress and with white flowers in her red, wavy hair as she was waiting for her on the grass behind the Avenger's compound. And then finally, she remembered her full name. Alexandra Romanoff.

Natasha gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. She had waited so long to hear her wife say her name again. No one ever called her Natalia, no one but Alexandra. “Sasha”, she whispered her lover's nickname, eyes filling with tears. With hesitant steps, she closed the gap between them. Soft hands cradled the blonde's face the second she was close enough. “I've missed you so much.” Her lips brushed against a tear-stained cheek, tasting the salt on the tip of her tongue. “Thank you, for coming back to me.”

Gently taking a bandaged hand in her left, Alexandra carefully lowered their limbs. Her wife appeared tough on the outside and would never admit to anyone how much pain she truly was in. But brown eyes saw right through the facade. It had been those very same eyes that had torn down Natasha's walls, stone for stone, when they had started dating all those years ago. A mellow light radiated from her, encasing both women in the warmest, white gleam. Her powers searched for every single one of Nat’s injuries, healing them one after the other. “I will always come back to you, моя любовь. Always”, she promised.

Just as she leaned in for a kiss, Natasha saw the two people outside of the room move slightly – of course her trained senses had picked up on their presence earlier, but she had chosen to ignore them. “FRIDAY? Please close the blinds”, she asked the Artificial Intelligence in her sweetest voice. A swoosh sounded through the room as the shades dropped from the ceiling almost all the way down to the floor, effectively blocking every curious onlooker. “Now we are alone.” Her voice was husky now, even lower than the usual rasp that was just so distinctively hers. “You didn't notice?”

Alexandra shook her head. “I was watching you.” Pale cheeks blushed a dark shade of red when their lips were mere millimeters apart, their foreheads touching. She chuckled. “Even when my brain was all chaotic and weird, I could not stop looking at you.” Nudging her partner's nose with her own, she inhaled Natasha's perfume. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”

The motion was barely visible as the red-haired woman shook her head. “It doesn't matter”, she whispered softly, stroking a few loose curls out of Alexandra's face and behind her ear. “What matters is that you remember now.” Finally pressing her lips against her wife's, she was immediately engulfed by the familiar warmth and love she had for the other woman. God, how much she had missed her.

Pale hands rested on either side of a slender hip, thumbs stroking the bone over the soft material of the dancer's outfit. The cutest little moans escaped her throat. This was what coming home felt like. Natasha was home. One of her hands slid lower, fingers fanning out over a firm bottom cheek as she smiled into the kiss. Tears of happiness ran down her cheeks.

“Don't cry, Милый”, Natasha whispered, wiping her lover's tears away with a gentle brush of her knuckles. “Please, don't cry.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, the blonde reconnected their lips. A dire need to be as close as possible to her wife was all she experienced in this moment. “Happy tears”, Alexandra assured between kisses, pulling the assassin even closer into her body. She relished in these moments, remembering how the redhead never let her guard down around anybody but her. It made every moment of intimacy even more special. “I love you.”

Her wife's breathless confession caused her heart to pound even faster in her chest. “I love you, too.” Strong hands moved to her lover's behind, cupping a cheek in each of them to hoist her up. She felt legs wrap around her waist as a squeal left Alexandra's mouth, followed by the most precious giggles. Natasha had to crane her neck now, due to the change in height, but it had always been one of her favorite things to do. “I love you so much.” A couple of quick steps later, a slim back collided with the wall behind the piano.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues danced to an unsung melody. Their hearts beat in sync, wanton lust overtaking both women. It took all of her willpower, but when she felt full lips suck on her neck, Alexandra let out a frustrated groan. She knew she had to put a stop to this for now. “I think we have a more suitable... room for this, Natalia”, she moaned, her voice dripping with desire. “Our room.”

Natasha hated to admit it, but her wife had a point. Their reconnecting deserved more than a quickie in the newly appointed music room. She pressed their lips together in one last heated kiss before carefully lowering the blonde back onto her feet. Both inhaled deeply to regain some composure and smoothed over their clothes. “Ready?”, she asked, reaching out her hand for Alexandra to take, her other one holding her sneakers and sweater that she had picked off the floor.

Fingers intertwined, they exited the room with mischievous grins tugging on their lips as they walked past Wanda and Steve who were engaged in a conversation in the middle of the hallway. But the couple did not pay any attention to them anyway, too absorbed in each other's presence. Throughout the entire way to their room, neither spoke a word. Yet, the silence was not uncomfortable.

“Everything is still as I remember it”, Alexandra spoke when she entered their suite and took a look around. “Even my slippers are still where I kicked them off before we had to rush into the mission.” Her leather jacket – a birthday gift from a time when they were engaged – was still draped over one of the chairs. She smiled lovingly at Natasha when she noticed another detail. “I see you've been sleeping in my shirts.” She was not mad about this; she could never be mad about this. Because if the roles had been reversed, the blonde would have done the exact same thing.

Natasha blushed lightly, shutting the door behind them and locking it with a twist. “They kept me sane”, she explained. “Some of them still smelled like you.” And if they did not, she always imagined her wife's unique scent on them. Coming up behind the blonde, the dancer looped her arms around a slim waist. “You are what keeps me grounded, but you were not with me. So this was the next best thing.” The truth was, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. She tightened her embrace. Delicate fingers moved a honey-blonde braid out of the way before soft lips began to caress the back of a creamy neck.

Turning in her wife's arms and instantly missing the touch against her skin, Alexandra nuzzled her nose against her lover's cheek. Her fingers found their way to the hair tie, pulling lightly so red curls could fall onto almost bare shoulders. “I missed the feeling of your hair between my fingers”, she breathed, burying her hands in silken tresses as she claimed crimson lips in a fierce kiss.

The air was full of sexual tension as both women tugged and tore at each other's close until either of them was left in only their underwear. Natasha unhooked her own bra first, knowing how much her partner enjoyed the view. When the garment landed on the floor, nimble fingers fiddled with the clasp of the necklace that held her wife's wedding ring until she finally slid it back onto its rightful place. She smiled brightly. “Much better.” Wasting no more time, the red-haired woman unceremoniously undid Alexandra's bra before moving on to the matching pair of panties. “I missed all of you”, she husked seductively in her wife's ear before nibbling on the shell of it. “Every. Single. Inch.” And as her hands were busy getting reacquainted with the blonde's naked skin, she maneuvered them towards their bed.

Alex could not stop the moans as they spilled past her lips between kisses. She tried dipping her hand into her wife's underwear but remained unsuccessful before she was pushed onto the mattress. As brown eyes opened, the irises shone with a passionate hunger. “Come here”, she beckoned, ogling her lover while Natasha stripped herself of the last article of clothing. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. “Natalia”, she groaned, growing impatient.

Knowing that teasing was not an option right now, and that it would ultimately cause both of them to suffer, the assassin climbed into the bed. Dainty hands wandered upwards, over pale ankles and satiny legs. Skipping her wife's sex on purpose and provoking a growl when Alexandra noticed what she was doing, the redhead did neither budge nor stop until she was once again face to face with the love of her life. “Hi”, she breathed against kiss-swollen lips as the pads of her fingers playfully fondled her wife's round breasts. Skillfully tweaking rosy buds into pebbled peaks, Natasha licked the blonde's full bottom lip, asking to be granted access.

Her mouth parted on its own accord, as did her legs to welcome the warm body on top of her between them. She let her hands rove over the smooth skin of Nat's back while the assassin played her body like an instrument. When wet lips encased one of her nipples, Alexandra arched even further into the touch, her own caresses never stopping.

Natasha hissed as she kissed a path from one boob to the other, certain that her lover's fingernails left crescent shaped marks on her right shoulder blade and neck. Her wife's nickname followed the next gasp, “Sasha.” Grinding her body into the one beneath her own, her slick center was mere inches away from Alexandra's. “Promise to never leave me again”, she pleaded, her voice barely audible against full lips.

“Not willingly”, the blonde assured her and wrapped her arms around her wife, holding her close. She could not even begin to imagine how hard the last weeks must have been on the other woman. “Never willingly, my love.” With a gentle nudge – in a moment of Natasha's inattentiveness – she flipped them so that she was now on top. “My promise to you will always stand, my beautiful Natalia. I will always love you and I will always come back to you”, she said, reciting parts of her wedding vow as she kissed along a creamy neck and toyed with hardened pearls. “If you're lost, I will find you.” Natasha's body bowed below her when she let her fingers dance over her ribs. “I will forever be yours.” When she looked up, she found Natasha's watchful gaze staring right back at her. “And you will forever be mine.”

Sneaking her left hand between them as Alexandra's traveled past her stomach, both women moaned vociferously when delicate fingers flicked each other's clits the way only they knew how. The Black Widow relished in the fact that the blonde had ruined her for anybody else and that she had returned the favor with pleasure. “Let go for me, Sasha”, she whined just as two of her lover's fingers slowly entered her. Mimicking Alexandra's action, the redhead eagerly swallowed her wife's whimpers.

The blonde's orgasm was approaching quickly and she could feel the walls around her digits tightening as well. Rubbing her thumb over her wife's engorged, needy bundle of nerves, she quaked when the assassin did the same. “I'm close”, she warned, her voice merely above a whisper as she pressed her forehead against Natasha's.

“Me too.” She loved their slow dance of passion and lust. There was no moment that she got to spend with her wife that she did not cherish. But tonight weighed a lot more as both women felt like they were coming home after being gone for weeks. “Come with me”, Natasha groaned, capturing full lips with her own seconds before she tumbled over the edge and Alexandra followed suit right after.

As both came down from their climax, the blonde felt the light strokes of fingertips as they pushed loose strands of honey-blonde hair out of her face. A satisfied smile spread across her lips. Her body revelled in the afterglow, tingled all over with bliss and adoration for the other woman. Lifting her head, she got momentarily lost in her lover's green eyes. “I am so in love with you, Natalia.”

“You will never know how much I love you, Sasha.” 

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

36. Angel

prompt used - Lifting the other one up | fluff | mentions of f*cking | to @drarry-is-my-therapy because she's an angel and it's her birthday. Happy Birthday love.

The drowning sun reflected over the stagnant waters, making it glow in red and yellow, the soft breeze humming in their ears as they Walked barefoot with their shoes in their hands intensely conversing about the movie they had watched a week ago. It was in a faint hesitation harry spoke up to the silver boy glowing in golden.

" think we should try to recreate that scene where he picks the girl up in the air, for fun "

" oh yes, golden boy, as if it's that easy "

" it seemed easy" harry shrugged.

Draco contemplated for a moment, he would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't wanted to try it out but it seemed far too risky

" it wasn't "

And yet somehow harry with his amazing pursuing skills had convinced draco to recreate that specific dance scene from dirty dancing.

" I can't believe you're making me do this " draco shook his head as his rubbed his palms together as if he was getting ready.

" just run alright, I'll catch you. Just trust me " harry motioned his hands in a gesture to indicate draco to run towards him

" that's the problem, I trust you too much " and with that Draco ran forward towards Harry and just when it came for harry to catch him, he stepped aside, making him fall on face over the beach sand.

" what the fuck was that for?" Draco looked up from the ground at harry

" I'm sorry, I just got scared. It suddenly seemed scary, I'm sorry , fuck I should've said something-"

" damn right you should've said something " draco groaned, half wet from falling over the sand and his hair covered in sand itself.

" I'm sorry, I really am " harry nervously said as draco flipped so he was facing harry

" you bloody idiot " draco grimaced

" sorry " harry pressed his lips in a thin line and offered his hand for draco to take, which obviously in his pride he didn't take and swatted Harry's hand away.

"fuck " and just in the moment harry immediately grabbed onto draco's waist and helped him stand

" are you alright ?" Harry asked concerned

" I think- I sprained my ankle you dimwit " draco grimaced in pain

" let's get you to hospital" and with that harry grabbed all his thing's and apparated them to a muggle hospital nearby.

" well, whatever happened, the sprain is a bit more severe, not that it's a fracture but it will take a few days to recover. So try not to walk too much and apply these ointments " the doctor with spectacles said

Draco shot harry a threatening glare before thanking the doctor and leaving with harry.

" I said I'm sorry " harry rolled his eyes at Draco, taking away the bag of ointments from him and his jacket too, leaving draco to carry nothing

" that doesn't change this sprain harry " draco rolled his eyes. Just as they stepped outside the doors of the clinic, draco winced.

" maybe we shouldn't apparate. I wouldn't want you to have any splinching " harry suggested

" I can't walk " draco responded.

" well, there's not much option-"

" carry me " draco smuggly said as if he was waiting to say this for a long time

" what?" Harry questioned, somewhat shocked at such a proposal

" yes carry me. It will compensate for you causing this injury and we'll go home too. It's not that far anyway " draco frowned trying to explain harry how it wasn't such a bad idea.

" I- well it only makes sense though " harry pouted looking at the road ahead, thinking about how far he'd had to go.

" you've not more options. Give me a piggy back ride. I'm sure the flirtatious doctor would appreciate it "

" one,he wasn't flirting with me and second you're very demanding "

" you wanna fight me ?" Draco raised his eyebrows in a threatening way

Harry chuckled " Darling, I think you'd definitely lose. Now hop on" he kneeled onto the ground for draco to cling his arms and legs around him.

" don't drop me " draco said as he finally put his arms around Harry's neck. In a Swift move, harry put his arms under draco's thighs and got up.

" wow, you weigh too much. Draco I think you're getting fat " harry teased as he hopped draco a little to get a good grip then finally started walking

" I have not " draco hit Harry's head Playfully, adjusting his face in Harry's neck, breathing into it

" are you sure, because I think otherwise"

" please I work out. Have you seen yourself ?"

" you mean being fit and having a good physique, thank you very much "

As much as draco wanted to deny that, he didn't because God knows why he had Always adored Harry's body. Well adore is a bit too smooth of a word for saying he had always found himself staring at harry if he ever got a chance. It was so finely carved with all the curves and abs at the right places, the toned muscles, the slightly broad shoulders with perfectly not too much toned arms and a perfect arse. Draco every once in a while allowed himself to gawk like an owl at harry, but never would he ever admit that harry was considerably hot, especially whenever harry wore draco's sweater.

" whatever " draco rolled his eyes hoping he had not blushed.

They talked on their way over, giggling about things, making jokes about each other, discussing celebrity crushes. Harry felt odd with draco breathing on his neck. He had never felt this way before, the way draco's giggles in his ears sounded so soft and his breathing down his neck causing shivers and the smile he'd feel over his neck caused a fluttering effect in his stomach, like butterflies and the way draco just seemed to talk today was so different that harry wondered how had he never admired his voice before, of his hands, or his fingers or his laughter, everything about him but whatever it was, harry enjoyed feeling it. It was new and Harry was a sucker for new things.

Just as they reached draco's flat, harry first helped him get waters, then taking him to his bedroom while harry fetched the ointments he left at the kitchen table top. When harry returned to his room, he only found draco standing with his sprained leg spread out, without a shirt. He did work out, and it seemed pretty hot..

" what ?" Draco asked when he saw harry simply staring at him

"you're fat " Harry lied blushing, keeping the ointments on the bed

" well, thank you harry for thinking I'm hot " Draco smirked, putting on a new shirt. Harry allowed himself to stare at his soft chest, the left part of his chest covered with a phoenix tattoo, the v line disappearing under his pants and his abs glowing softly in the dim room light and the way draco was putting on a shirt, Harry only wondered why ?

But before could notice harry practically lusting over him, he had moved his eyes to the opposite side of the room, much to draco's disappointment.

" well, I'd come back later?" Harry asked

Draco thought for a moment before nodding " you're going to be at that get together at Ron's place, right " harry nodded " right, so pick me up. I don't think I'd be able to drive or apparate till then "

Harry nodded again before telling him when would be come to pick him up and finally going home with such eruptions of feelings he had once felt for Ginny, but something completely different. Harry didn't think much about it.

Over the next few days as harry spent picking up draco and helping him with regular things, he found it hard to resist himself from feeling things for him. Even if so he wanted to ignore them, he'd just find draco fondly looking at him and harry would blush like a flower and simply turn away, inappropriate thoughts rushing into his mind. The truth as harry spent thinking about in night was that, harry might've always liked draco in some way but right now, the way he felt just made him want to do things he could only possibly think of. But having learnt about heartbreak ages ago, he found himself Afraid of such feelings. He promised himself that he wouldn't fall for anyone who was just, ordinary but then again, draco wasn't ordinary.

The night finally came for the get together at Ron's place before he left for a 6 month mission to southern Europe and would not return until it's done. Despite the fact that it was a normal get together, everyone invited for forced not to dress too casual nor too formal, something harry never quite understood. Voila, comes the fashion king into his mind, draco. He had irrevocably amazing fashion sense and nobody could deny that so he picked up a few shirts, pants and jeans and drove to draco's place an hour early.

" you're early " Draco frowned as he opened the door wider for harry to come in

" fashion advice " and without a doubt draco understood what he meant..

They moved into the living room, draco settling down on the couch with harry standing in front of him with a bunch of clothes.

" what the hell not too casual and not too formal Is supposed to mean ?" Harry rolled his eyes as he dropped everything onto the chair.

" well technically it means the event is special but with close people. I have dibs on how maybe he's going to propose Hermione "

" you know what, I thought soo too " harry gossiped

" anyways, I think you should go with a nice pants and a button down shirt " draco suggested

" that's what I'm standing in " harry said with a as a matter of factedly face

" well- that's right. Show me what you got " draco ordered and one by one harry started showing him everything he could bring only for all of it to be rejected by him.

" well, we've run out of clothes " harry said as he looked down at the pile of shirts and pants on the other chair.

" that is true- you know what. I have a shirt for you, I bought it sometime ago but it's a bit lose and you can just pair it up with any of the black pants "

" what are you waiting for then. Show me " harry excitedly said

" well a fractured man can only walk so fast "

" you don't have a fracture "

" but I can take the advantage of saying that " Draco's voice echoed as he walked down the hallway into his bedroom, fetched the shirt and came back.

" I've got to admit you're quite dramatic. I'm pretty sure the sprain is fine by now. It doesn't even have a swelling " harry said as he took the shirt from draco's hands

" what do you know " draco narrowed his eyes at harry before settling down in the couch before harry.

Harry placed the blood red shirt over his chest, frowning at how good it looked

" didn't know you liked red now ?"

" rare occasions. Wear it. I've got to get ready too "

And with that Draco departed into his room to get ready. Harry had just began to put on his shirt when draco walked into the living room asking for something.

" oh " Draco's Throat echoed as he saw harry shirtless

" what ?"

" I didn't know you were- well undressed " draco blushed

" not like you haven't seen me this way before" Harry shrugged putting on the shirt.

Why, god, why, draco's inner voice screamed in lust.

" anyway- which one is better ?" Draco asked still blushing

" both are good draco. You've got a nice dressing sense "

" don't flatter me. I can't wear both, choose one " draco asked again. Harry scanned both the shirts.

" the light blue satin shirt. Makes your skin- eyes look good " harry Blushed.

Draco wondered what the fuck was harry blushing for when he was the one complimented with one of the finest compliments.

" I did not know that " draco said lowly

" well now you do " harry smiled. Draco nodded before walking away, the glimpse of harry rolling his sleeves invading his senses.

After about half an hour, they both were fully dressed and ready to go.

" you look good " harry complimented

" so do you " draco smiled in returned

" shall we ?" Harry as he pointed the door.

When Draco finally nodded, they both departed to Ron's place, realising the get together was at the roof top.

Half-way through the party, harry sensed Draco was probably right and was still finding it hard to not see Draco from all the way across the room. There was no men finer in the entire room other than him and harry hated it as much as he loved it. It was excruciating to find someone so attractive who was your best friend who you had no chance with but the desire to want him was longingly growing inside his chest.. he was so desirable across the entire room, bunched about with a few people, laughing and smiling over something harry couldn't possibly decipher. His thoughts ran in his head like an endless loop until the boy in Harry's desirable dreams saw him and paused his ongoing conversation and made his way towards harry. Caught in the act he tried to busy himself with the bottom of his shirt until the other man cleared his throat.

" oh, didn't see you there draco "

" right, so you were looking at ..."

" pansy. She looks good in that dress "

" Pansy isn't even here harry " draco chuckled, blocking Harry's line of sight.

" oh"

Draco genuinely smiled at harry knowing exactly that he wasn't the only boy caught in the loop of desiring the other.

" so you want to pretend that you weren't looking at me for half the party, not to mention with an admirable gaze " draco smirked crossing his arms in front of him

" that would be nice " harry frowned lightly

" well then I have to pretend that I wasn't checking you out back at the flat almost as admirably as you were " Draco smugly said as he shifted besides harry, standing against the railing..

" as long as we're pretending then I think I'll pretend I didn't check you out a couple of days ago when you were changing " harry replies smiling, almost liking this pretend game.

" okay then, I'll pretend that I haven't checked you out everytime you're shirtless, or everytime you wear one of my sweater or when you ruffle your hair " draco smirked. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, slightly amused

" then I'll pretend that I didn't enjoy carrying you on mu back a few days ago because I got to be close with you " harry smirked

" then I'll pretend that I don't like being this close to you " draco said as he stepped forward..

" then I'll pretend that I don't have these fluttering feelings for you which seems to invade all my senses "

" I'll pretend that I haven't liked you for almost forever "

" then I'll pretend that I don't want to take you home right now "

" I'll pretend I didn't agree "

______________________________

" I knew you bought that shirt for me " harry lazily smiled as he softly grazed draco's naked arms spread over his chest covered on blankets

" don't flatter yourself potter " draco rolled his eyes as he snuggled further into harry

" fine I won't but doesn't stop me from teasing you about how you let me fuck almost 5 times last night alone " harry grinned cheekily as if it was proud achievement

" If you do it again, you are going to regret it " Draco softly threatened

" well you did let me, not once, not twice, not thrice, not fou- what's the word- four times , five times-"

" you're an asshole " draco rolled his eyes

" well I'd like to be your asshole, if you want me to be ?" Harry asked, worried if he had ruined the conversation by bringing this up.

" if you don't shut up and let me sleep, I won't let you be my asshole but if you do, I'd let you be so much more " draco yawned, tired from all the activities from last night.

Harry chuckled at the lightness of the tone before kissing the top of draco's forehead.

" sweet dreams angel "

And draco hummed, falling fast asleep again in Harry's arm..

Unedited

Day 35 - every inch of you | Day 37- you're my home, draco

[erin-bo-berin]

A Game of Chess

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request to write a fic that involved Spencer’s childhood friend Ethan that appeared in season 2′s episode Jones. To the anon who requested this, I’m so sorry it took so long to write, but I seemed to have trouble getting this fic perfect. But finally, I tweaked it and molded it into a story I’m proud of and really like how it turned out. Shoutout to the wonderful @multifandommandy​ for helping me with the inspiration for the unsub in this fic. With her suggestion of using the real Axeman of New Orleans from the 1900′s, the unsub in this fic was born. I hope you guys enjoy this fic. Enjoy some sassy, jealous Spencer. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 6,907

New Orleans. 

Home of jazz, amazing food and beautiful sights.

Unfortunately, it was also the home of a current and active serial killer.

You and the rest of the Behavioral Analysis team had been called in for a serial killer running rampant in New Orleans, which meant that left little time to actually enjoy the sights.

“Remind me before we leave to take you to this jazz club I think you’d like,” your friend and coworker, Spencer nudged you with a smile.

“If we have a moment to breathe,” you groaned, taking a peek at the murder board that had already been set up by the local detectives.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make time for my favorite agent.”

He gave you a slight smile and a sly wink as he headed in the opposite direction of you to get started on some geographical profiles.

You felt a flush creep up from your neck all the way to your cheeks. It was no lie that you fancied the intelligent Dr. Reid and some days, you thought he actually reciprocated your feelings.

It felt like the two of you had been circling one another constantly for months, either pretending the feelings didn’t exist or shamelessly flirting with one another. At this point, you weren’t sure anything would ever happen between you two.

That still didn’t stop how flustered he could make you. Such as how he had just done.

It was something special to have his undivided attention. That was a recurring thing for you though. You always seemed to receive a more special kind of attention from him than the rest of your friends—aka the rest of the BAU team.

You were heading towards the table in front of the murder board to set down your things when JJ quite literally appeared out of nowhere by your side.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wink,” she smirked knowingly, settling down in a seat at the head of the table.

“Don’t start,” you retorted, cutting your eyes towards her in a warning glance.

“I’m just saying,” she smirked, opening the file and flipping through it before she spoke her next words.

“It’s just a matter of time before the other shoe drops.”

Whatever that meant.

•

You hooligans think you can catch me, but you can’t. You won’t. I’m much more cunning than you think.

You’ve found victims one, two and three. What about four, five and six? Seven? Maybe they exist, maybe they will exist soon. That’s for me to know and you to find out. If I wanted to, I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

“Well, that’s not chilling at all,” you muttered.

A letter had been sent to the NOLA police department, apparently from the killer himself. He was taunting them and your team, that much you knew.

“Definitely a narcissist,” Rossi said, relaying your thoughts, “He thinks he’s untouchable.”

“Not to mention he actually took a line from the infamous Axeman of New Orleans case,” Spencer pointed out.

Everyone blinked at him, clueless.

“The Axeman was a serial killer from May 1918 to October 1919 here in New Orleans. He was never caught, but he typically murdered couples with an axe; axes that belonged to the victims. It’s similar to our current unsub although he’s killing women with an axe. That’s actually kind of similar to the Axeman because he did actually slay a few single victims, some being female and-”

Spencer paused, noticing the entire team staring at him, once again.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Just a bit,” you nodded, holding back a grin.

Once the boy got started on something, it was hard to get him to stop. Or not talk 100 mph.

“Is this guy a genius or something? I didn’t even know about that serial killer,” the local detective, named Valadez, whispered to you as Spencer started back up and more to the point.

“You get used to it, trust me,” you grinned.

“The Axeman actually sent a few letters of his own,” Spencer said, looking at the copy of the letter, examining it, “He quite literally copied one sentence word for word.”

“Which one would that be?” Tara asked.

“I could slay a thousand of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death,” Spencer read.

“That’s the copied line?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer answered distractedly, still studying the writing, “From the Axeman’s letter on March 13th, 1919.”

“So is this just a copycat?” Matt asked.

“I don’t think so,” Spencer answered, “Although the similarities shouldn’t be ignored. He kills women with axes and then sends a letter that has a line that’s verbatim for what the Axeman said.”

“So maybe he’s getting his inspiration from this Axeman guy?” JJ questioned.

“It’s possible,” Spencer nodded.

Spencer was totally in the zone, looking at the writing, tongue poked out of the side of his mouth.

“At most, he has an ego that needs to be stroked,” you said, “There will definitely be more victims.”

“Victim three, Raquel Clayton was discovered outside a jazz club,” Detective Valadez said, studying the murder board.

Spencer’s head jerked up.

“Did you say jazz club?”

“Yeah, does that mean something to you?” Luke asked, curious.

“The Axeman also mentioned in said letter he would spare anyone that was listening to jazz music on a specific night. That night the entire town had dance halls filled with people listening to jazz music. Either his motive is somehow related to this or this guy is just fascinated by the Axeman case. What jazz club was it?”

You were glancing over the detective’s shoulder, reading the file. The name struck you as one you’d just heard earlier in the day. With a smirk, you looked at Spencer.

“Up for a trip to your favorite jazz club?”

•

“It doesn’t surprise me that I managed to actually bring you here, but under the fact of work circumstances,” Spencer grumbled.

“Hey, we’re here aren’t we? We can enjoy a little music while we ask around and see if anyone has seen anything.”

The club was darkly lit, but was filled with soothing sounds of jazz music. You could see why Spencer liked it here.

“The music is pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed.

You stood for a few moments more taking in the pleasant sights and sounds around you before sighing.

“Guess we better get to work, huh?”

Spencer nodded.

“You start with the bartender and workers around there, I’ll start at the back. I’ll meet up with you later,” Spencer said.

You nodded and headed off to start your first rounds of questioning.

-

An hour later you met a disheartened Spencer. He’d had no more luck than you had. No one had seen anyone suspicious, no one had seen anything, there wasn’t even the first hint of who a suspect was.

This guy seemed to be as invisible as the real Axeman.

“Maybe Jazz was just a coincidence?” Spencer asked.

“You know as well as I do, that there’s no such thing as coincidences in our line of work,” you commented.

He was about to say something when a voice interrupted him.

“Reid, is that you?!”

You and Spencer turned to see a tall man, roughly the same age as Spencer with dark hair and dark eyes. His long beard would’ve been unruly on anyone else, but on this man it seemed to fit him perfectly.

“Ethan?” Spencer’s face lit up, as he hugged the guy.

“It’s been quite a long time since I’ve seen you. What’s it been? 13 years?”

“About,” Spencer nodded, “I didn’t know you were still here in New Orleans.”

“I just got back after some traveling. You can take the boy out of New Orleans but you can’t take New Orleans out of the boy.”

You watched the exchange back and forth, smiling politely.

“Are you gonna introduce me, Spencer?” you asked.

“Well, does Reid here have a girlfriend? Cause if so, he sure does have mighty fine taste,” the man said.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckled, “I’m his partner.”

You held out your hand.

“Supervisory Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. But you can just call me Y/N.”

He smiled, shaking your hand.

“Reid, you didn’t tell me the FBI had such beautiful girls like Y/N here. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have dropped out of the FBI so long ago.”

You smiled bashfully as you dropped your hand from his.

“Y/N this is an old friend from Las Vegas, Ethan. We grew up together.”

With a sidelong glance at Spencer you could see him jaw clenching and unclenching. Something he did when he was annoyed. That intrigued you. What was annoying him?

“So you were in the FBI?” you asked, curious.

“Nah. After the first day of training, I dropped out. Left it to this guy here,” Ethan nodded to Spencer, “I knew Reid would be the better agent anyway.”

“What made you drop out?”

You winced, realizing your tactlessness. 

“Sorry if that was too personal of a question,” you apologized.

“No need to apologize,” he held his hands up, “With a pretty agent like you, I’d spill all my secrets.”

A slight blush grazed your cheeks and you smiled brightly up at him. It was nice to hear such compliments. It was something you weren’t used to.

“I figured out I wasn’t up for being in the FBI. Much more of a musician, I guess you’d say.”

“Oh, you play?”

“Sax, piano, a little guitar.”

“Impressive,” you grinned.

“So, Reid. You doing better now? No more addiction?”

“Addiction?”

You furrowed your brows, looking at Spencer quizzically.

“It’s nothing,” Spencer mumbled.

“Last time I saw him he was pretty messed up,” Ethan said, demonstrating a shaking hand, “What was it you were on again?”

“Dilaudid,” Spencer answered, lips pressed in a thin line.

“What?”

You had joined the team only eight years ago, in your early twenties, just shy of Spencer’s thirtieth birthday. He’d already been with the BAU for eight years himself by that time. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about his past and apparently, this was one of them.

“Y/N is a newer member to the team,” Spencer said, suddenly seeming more relaxed, “She only joined a couple of years ago.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been in the BAU again man?” Ethan asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Fifteen years.”

“Damn. That’s impressive. I could never. Guess that’s why I ended up here,” he motioned with his glass, indicating this certain jazz club.

Spencer’s phone rang, but he ignored it.

“Speaking of,” Ethan turned to you, “How would you like to hear some great music sometime? I could get you front row seats. Maybe even play a request or two just for you.”

He winked at you, increasing your flush. It’d been a long while since you’d had a guy hit on you, hence your constant flushing. You were flattered and you were seriously thinking about taking up his offer.

Spencer’s cell started in again. Once again, it went ignored.

“If I get a chance, I’d love to come hear you play.”

He was about to say something when the cell rang again. For a second you actually thought it was Spencer’s phone again, until you felt the vibration against your thigh from your own phone.

“One second, excuse me,” you apologized, taking your phone out of your pocket.

You had a missed call, followed by a new text.

New body found. Meet us at crime scene ASAP.

It was from Emily.

“I’m awfully sorry to break up this reunion, boys,” you said, “But we gotta go. The job calls.”

“No problem. See you around dude,” Ethan said, patting Spencer on the back.

“Anytime you want to take up my offer, just drop by. I’ll hook you up.”

This was said to you.

He raised his tumbler in your direction with a flirty grin as he backed away.

When you turned to follow Spencer out, you realized he’d already left.

•

You and Spencer arrived at the crime scene ten minutes later.

“What took you guys so long?” Emily asked.

“Sorry, my phone was off and Y/L/N didn’t tell me you needed us.”

You shot Spencer a look.

What the hell was he talking about? You certainly had. Especially after he’d ignored his own ringing phone twice.

“It’s fine, you’re here now,” Emily said.

“Another body was dumped. Female, approximately 25-30, seems to be wounded from an ax,” Detective Valadez said.

“Man, he really did a number on this poor woman,” you mumbled, shaking your head, “She must’ve really pissed him off.”

The victim was so wounded and bloodied, it was difficult to identify much else about her.

“I know what that’s like,” Spencer mumbled.

You glanced at him again, your questioning glance being plainly ignored.

What was up with him?

“Split up. Witnesses said they had just seen her get off of the bus down the street. We need to know how she ended up here,” Emily said, “Y/N, Spence. I want you to start at the bus stop and see if you can retrace her steps.”

So that’s how you and Spencer ended up at the bus stop, him mumbling to himself and you exasperated at his silent treatment.

“How are we going to figure anything out when you won’t even talk to me?”

He continued to ignore you, walking up and down the sidewalk, thinking.

“If you’re mad can you just please tell me why?”

“I don’t know. You might be too busy flirting with some passerby,” he grumbled.

You were even more confused. 

“What are you talking about?”

Back to ignoring you again.

“I think we’ve figured out about as much as we can from here, let’s go,” Spencer said, taking off.

He left you behind feeling even more confused than to begin with.

•

The only bright spot of the next few days was that there was a break in the case.

Thanks to Spencer’s excellent geographical profiling skills, he’d managed to narrow down the unsub’s hunting ground.

The icing on the cake?

In the dead middle of his hunting ground was a jazz club. The same jazz club you’d been to with Spencer the day before, the one where Ethan frequently played at.

Two more victims had been murdered, something that made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You’d been too late to help them, but now, you could get justice for the poor women who had met their untimely end. 

To attempt to catch him, the team came up with the idea of sending an undercover in and staking out the place in an attempt to lure him out.

You were going to be the one that would be sent in. In fact, you yourself volunteered to. You wanted to arrest this guy and throw him in handcuffs. It’s what the bastard deserved after his heinous crimes.

Even though Spencer had hardly talked to you for the last few days, he still flat out refused. He kept trying to talk you out of it and convince Emily to send someone else in. But you’d already made up your mind. 

“You’re not going in there, Y/N,” he protested.

“Yes. I am.”

Your voice had a steely edge. He wasn’t going to change your mind.

“Do you know how dangerous it is?!” he’d thrown back at you.

“Gee, no. I never thought about it,” your sarcastic tone was harsher than you intended, but it felt good.

If he was going to be mad at you for whatever reason, then so be it. But you had every right to be just as angry at him for giving you the cold shoulder.

“This is serious, Y/N.”

“You know what, Spencer? You have some nerve acting like you care about me all of a sudden. You have no right to order me around like you’re my father. Especially since you’ve been passive aggressive with me all damn week.”

With that, the plan was set.

And you went in.

•

“Remember, Y/N,” came Emily’s voice in your invisible earpiece, “If you encounter our unsub, we have to catch him in the act. It’s very likely he will attack you and try to hurt you, you know that right?”

You trailed a finger around the lip of your tumbler, looking around the mostly empty bar before answering.

“I’m aware. I’ll be alright.”

“Okay. Just act like a normal young woman out having a night out. We know he’s picked up all his victims here.”

“Got it.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Agent Y/LN,” you heard.

You turned around, seeing Ethan stroll up to you, a sly grin on his face.

“Well hello there,” you grinned, leaning against the bar, “And please, call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said trying out the name, “Might I say you look outstanding tonight.”

You smiled down at the deep teal ruched dress you had donned for the evening. It was a simple dress with thin spaghetti straps and a deep plunging neckline, showing off more of your breasts than you ever had at work. It fit on your body perfectly, hugging your curves and highlighting them. A pair of strappy, gold, stilettos were the only accessory you’d paired with it.

“Thank you. I’ve been anxious to hear you play.”

“Where’s Reid? Did he not come with you?” Ethan asked.

“Oh, he’s around,” you replied coyly.

Just outside, down the street sat Luke, Rossi, Emily and Spencer in an undercover van, watching the entire thing on their monitors.

The styrofoam cup in Spencer’s hand crumpled from his grip on it as he watched the scene unfold before him. Thankfully, he’d already finished his coffee earlier.

Rossi glanced at the cup then to Luke, with a raised brow.

“You okay there Reid?” Luke asked, knowingly.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out. 

“Right,” Rossi drawled, clearly not convinced.

“Isn’t that your childhood friend?” Emily asked.

Yup,” Spencer said and nothing else.

“I saved you a seat at the front, just like I said I would,” Ethan said.

Spencer’s blood boiled when he saw Y/N’s hand on Ethan’s arm. She was doing that thing she did when she flirted: that cute half smile and a peek up through her lashes. 

He’d seen it before many times. It was just one of the many things he’d noticed about her before.

“I’ll personally escort you.”

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the stage. They were briefly off camera for a moment and Spencer couldn’t help but feel the jealousy tugging at him. He wouldn’t even be in this position if—well it wasn’t important right now.

They appeared back on camera, near the stage. He sat her at one of the tables at the front.

“I’ll try hard not to mess up. It’s a bit nerve wracking when you have such a beautiful girl in the audience to cheer you on.”

Spencer fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

Y/N actually giggled in response.

“Reid, you’re seconds away from snapping that pencil in half,” Rossi said.

He peered down, not even realizing he’d picked up a pencil to worry in his hands.

“Anything you’d like to share?” asked Rossi.

Spencer looked at the three expectant faces staring back at him and grimaced.

“Not particularly,” he grumbled.

“Reid’s just mad that his friend is making moves on his girl,” Luke stated, nonchalantly.

“She’s not my girl,” Spencer replied.

“Dude, come on. We all know that you like her and just refuse to make a move.”

Spencer glanced at Rossi and Emily who seemed in agreement to Luke’s statement. A glance at the monitors showed that nothing exciting was happening anyway, so there was no way to avoid this conversation with his teammates.

“It’s like a game of chess,” Rossi said, steepling his fingers together.

“What is?” Spencer asked.

“You and Y/N,” he replied, “But it’s like you’re both stuck in a stalemate waiting for the other to make a move.”

He had no reply to that. What was there to say? Rossi was right and it was all his own damn fault.

“Take this as a lesson, kid,” Rossi advised.

“A lesson how?”

“Let this be your motivation.”

-

Ethan had left you since he was up next.

You sat at the table, sipping on your drink when you heard an unfamiliar voice to your right.

“Looks like you’re awfully lonely tonight.”

You turned to see an average looking man dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He seemed out of place in such a casual outfit. That didn’t qualify him as the unsub though.

“Maybe I like to be alone?”

That stopped the guy in his tracks. He quite literally backpedaled and left you alone again. You heard a muffled snort in your earpiece.

“You sure know how to tell ‘em,” Luke scoffed.

“Yeah, well, if our unsub is picking up women with lines that bad, we’re in even more trouble than we realized,” you muttered.

You knew from the profile that this unsub was full of himself and egocentric. He would have to be smooth enough to actually lure a woman back with him. 

“We’ll keep watching,” Emily said.

You sat alone in peace as Ethan played. He was rather good and you had to say you were impressed. 

Your drink eventually disappeared and when you caught Ethan’s eye, you held up your glass just slightly, nodding towards the bar so he knew you were getting a refill. You stood, heading towards the bar, deciding you’d just go for a simple water. You were on the job, after all.

“I’ll take a water, please,” you told the bartender.

He was young, maybe early 30’s with dark hair. He seemed put together, even for a bartender. His outfit was neat and mess free and not a hair was out of place.

“For a beauty like you, you should have a drink, it’s on the house. It’s my specialty.”

He leaned forward to you, giving you a sly wink, as he reached for a glass without even hearing your answer.

“No, that’s okay, really.”

“Oh come on. One drink won’t hurt. I make the best drinks in the city,” he said.

Something in your mind was trying to piece together, but you couldn’t get it to completely form. Shaking it off, you reluctantly relented.

“Okay, I’ll take one then.”

He mixed the drink, poured it in the glass and slid it towards you.

“Now tell me that isn’t the best drink you’ve ever had.”

You took a sip. It was too strong for your taste but you smiled anyway.

“It’s very good,” you lied.

“So, have you heard about these weird ax murders happening around here?” he questioned, wiping the bar.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Scary stuff.”

“It’s amazing these deadbeat feds can’t seem to catch him,” he shook his head, as if it were a real tragedy.

Neurons in your mind were sparking and there was something about him that was setting you on edge.

“What did you say your name was, again?” you smiled, flirtatiously.

“I didn’t.”

His grin was icy. 

Red flags were going up. If he wasn’t your unsub, then this guy surely wasn’t someone to mess with.

“Oh my bad,” you giggled, playing the part of a flirty, young woman, just there for some fun.

“Anyway, all I gotta say is, is that this guy is really proving a point.”

“How so?” you asked.

“You just gotta give the ax to some people,” he replied, slamming his palm down on the bar top, making you jump, “You know what I mean?”

You nodded, seeming interested, but goosebumps were forming on your skin. It was too much to be a coincidence that this guy wasn’t the unsub and he sure had the ego to match the profile.

“Oh excuse me,” you said, reaching for your phone in your purse, pretending like you were getting a phone call, “It’s my boss. She can’t leave me alone even on a night out.”

You smiled apologetically and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello? Yeah, just a minute, I can’t hear you.” 

You covered your other ear as if you were trying to hear as you headed towards one of the side doors. 

Once you were out of the building, you pulled your phone away, hitting the speed dial for Emily.

“Prentiss.”

“Emily, it’s me. Did you hear any of-”

Before you could finish your question, you felt a hand over your mouth and you were jerked backwards. You kicked and screamed in tandem as your phone hit the pavement and you were dragged back into the darkened alley.

-

“Y/N? Y/N?!” Spencer yelled, panicked eyes looking at the others.

“Everyone move. Now. We believe the suspect has a federal agent,” Emily barked into her walkie talkie.

“Cover the parameter. We have no idea which direction he could’ve taken her,” Luke added over the radio.

Spencer was out of the door before anyone could stop him.

“REID! REID!”

He heard Rossi yell out after him, but he didn’t stop running.

If that son of a bitch dared to hurt a hair on Y/N’s head, he was going to leave here tonight in a body bag instead of handcuffs.

Spencer would make damn sure he’d see to it.

•

Your back hit the brick wall, the nearby streetlight hitting something metal just right that it gleamed for a split second. 

Your heart stopped when you saw the blade of a hatchet in the bartender’s hands.

“I knew the feds had been around here snooping for me,” he sneered.

“How?” 

You tried to act cool. This was part of your job, to be in dangerous situations. But truth be told, you were terrified.

“Your little boyfriend Ethan mentioned seeing you and your partner here the other day asking around about me. Little did he know he was really doing me a favor by letting me in on that little piece of gossip.”

Ethan. He had just gotten back from a tour of the world. He was innocent in all this, yet somehow he still ended up mixed up in it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you scowled, wriggling against his grasp.

He held you tight with one arm across your neck and shoulders, his arm almost to the point of choking you. You had to stall, had to do something. Where was Emily and the team?

“Where were you that day anyway? I never saw you here.”

“That’s because it was my day off. Lucky break huh?” he snorted, “Besides, I was in search of victim number five.”

Lillie Newton. She was victim number five. She had a name, she wasn’t just a number. 

Anger boiled within you. Pure hatred for someone as evil as this man that stood before you.

“Why? Why do it? Were you just trying to be another copycat?”

“You know, one of the things said about the Axeman of New Orleans was that his crimes were mostly ethnically motivated. He killed mainly Italian-Americans or Italian immigrants. For some reason, he must’ve hated them. I found it...inspiring. Of course, I have nothing against the Italians. Unless they’re women, that is.”

“Oh so that’s it? You hate women? Talk about typical psychopath 101,” you spat.

A sharp sting came across your cheek as he slapped you, hard. Hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Listen here, bitch. I’d watch my mouth if I were you, because this baby?” he lifted up his machete for you to see, “This can do a lot of damage. I can’t wait to strike it into you and chop you up so your FBI friends won’t even be able to recognize you.”

You swallowed hard. Your brain was scrambling for a way to escape. You were just about ready to kick him in the groin when he was suddenly yanked away from you, his hard grip leaving your body.

You blinked quickly, not understanding what had just happened until you saw Spencer a few feet away, punching the guy. It wasn’t just one punch either. Two, then three came. You bounded into action then.

“Spencer! Spencer, stop!” 

You tried pulling him away as the rest of your team came running into the alleyway. He managed to get one more hit in before you successfully pulled him away and Luke had pulled the unsub up, slapping cuffs on him faster than you realized he even could.

Spencer grabbed you and pulled you close, holding you tight. His head went into the crook of your neck as he clung to you, all of his apparent fear and worry being transmitted from him to you through the hug. No matter what tiff you both may have been in the middle of, he still cared about you.

“I was so scared something happened to you,” he mumbled.

He pulled back, looking over you, assessing you to see if you had any injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

His finger brushed your cheek lightly and you winced.

“Did he hit you?!”

“Slapped me, but I’m okay. It’s just a little sore,” you told him.

“You might have a nasty bruise there in a few days.”

“Least it’s just a bruise, huh?” you smiled a tiny bit.

“Yeah.”

He was gazing directly at you as if no one else were around, as if there wasn’t a bustle of activity around you. In that moment, it was just the two of you.

“Spence.”

You both turned to see Emily, motioning for him, needing his help.

Spencer let go of your arms, stepping back a bit.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 

With a nod, you watched him head in Emily’s direction. It had been a long day. A long week actually. But the murderer had been caught and there would be justice for the poor families who had lost their daughters.

That wasn’t all though.

Something had seemed to shift between you and Spencer. Sort of like a chess piece in it’s hesitant movement to another square.

•

By the time you’d handed over the unsub to the local precinct so he could be their problem, it was well past midnight.

Everyone had been way too exhausted to even think of boarding the jet tonight, so it was mutually decided that they’d spend one more night in New Orleans and head home tomorrow. Everyone had gone their separate ways once back at the hotel.

You headed to your room, managing to score an ice pack for your sore cheek. Unfortunately, after all the excitement, there was no time to talk to Spencer and he’d left the precinct before you had anyway. You made a mental note to check in on him tomorrow and maybe even see if things were okay between you two.

You��d changed out of the dress and into more comfortable clothes—sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were sitting at the small table in your room, icing your cheek and pretty much about to fall asleep when there was a knock at your door. Sitting the ice pack down, you walked to the door, opening it. You were surprised to see Spencer standing on the other side.

Before you had the chance to say anything, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

After your brief initial shock, your lips moved with his so fluidly it seemed natural, like you did this every day.

Minutes may have passed, or it might just have been seconds as you kissed him back, your hands naturally finding a spot to rest against his chest.

You were so stunned when he pulled away, that it took a moment for you to realize he had said something.

“Huh?” you asked, still dazed.

“I asked if I could come in,” he repeated.

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. Your head was still reeling from the kiss as you turned around and saw him sit down on your bed, his hands running through his hair.

“Come here,” he whispered.

You walked over to him, standing in front of where he sat.

“I’m so sorry,” he began.

Your confusion deepened. Was he sorry about the kiss? About you getting hurt? About being mad?

He said nothing else as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him and holding you tight.

“When I saw the unsub had you…” he mumbled into your neck, trailing off as his voice cracked.

You pulled out of his embrace to look at him. You now stood in between his legs, even closer than you had been before, your body mere inches from his.

“I was so afraid I might never see you again. Suddenly, me being angry at you was the least important thing in the world.”

“Why were you mad? If I did something I’m so sorry, I-”

“Shh, no,” he mumbled, his finger covering your lips gently to silence you, “It was my own fault, I’m so sorry.”

You waited silently, seeing if he was going to elaborate. His eyes closed, his expression looking pained and even a bit embarrassed.

“I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” you questioned, your brows furrowed, not understanding.

“Of Ethan flirting with you,” he sighed, “And you flirting back.”

“I,” you paused, your mind racing, not being able to piece everything together quick enough, “I was just being nice to him, then just playing the part earlier. Why would you be jealous?”

He gave a half laugh, almost a humorless one.

“Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N,” he whispered, his gaze finally meeting yours.

His hand cupped the side of your face, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. You didn’t move from his touch nor did you make a move to push his hands away. 

“And seeing you with someone else made me see red. Just the thought of you being someone else’s and not mine because I’d been too scared and stubborn, locked in this chess game, if you will, with you, not making a move. I was afraid I had been too late and I was mad at myself.”

“I’m not interested in Ethan. I only have eyes for you,” your eyes slid to his lips, unable to stop yourself.

You were still thinking of the way his lips had felt against yours. The softness of them, the passion in the kiss, the way his hands had cupped your face and held on firmly like he himself was afraid the moment was just a fluke.

“It’s always been that way.”

Your voice was barely a whisper now as your eyes slid closed and your lips found his again.

This time, the kiss was more heated. Your feelings for one another had finally been laid on the table, igniting a need to act on them.

Your hand tangled in his curls as you kissed him back fervently, suddenly feeling like you couldn’t get enough of him. You had spent years not knowing what kissing him would be like and now it felt like you were simply making up for lost time.

You smiled gently against his lips when he moaned into the kiss. Apparently, he was just as eager for your touch against him, as you were for his against you.

His hands reached for the hem of your top, pulling away to pull it up and over your head. His tongue moved out and over his lips slowly, his eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. Your own hands pulled at his loosened tie, dropping it once it left his body. 

Spencer’s mouth met your neck, leaving soft kisses down it as your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. The simple task seemed so much harder as you were distracted by the feel of his lips on your skin.

In one fell swoop, he’d picked you up and turned, tossing you in quite a gentle manner against the mattress of your hotel bed. His hand ran over your exposed stomach, his kisses moving lower. You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched him, unable to control the growing desire forming between your legs.

You were so caught up in the sensation, it didn’t even register what he had been doing until you felt the slight tug of your waistband being pulled downwards. His fingers gripped the material and pushed it down over your raised hips until it was completely off.

You wasted no time in ridding him of his own pants as well.

Left in only your undergarments, you and Spencer laid practically skin to skin, taking a moment just to enjoy one another. He kissed you again, his slight scruff tickling your face, while his hands roamed your body.

You, also, took your sweet time exploring the new found territory of his bare skin underneath your hands. They ran over his back, his chest, his arms, his sides before finding their way back to his face, your lips moving in a fluid dance with his own.

He reached behind you, unhooking your bra, pulling the straps down until the item had completely left your body. You were almost positive he held back a groan as he took in your naked top half. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Your legs inadvertently clenched at his cursing. It wasn’t often he did it, but something told you that in bed it was a good possibility that he could be a completely different person.

His hands cupped each breast, his lips kissing your throat as he massaged them. His fingertips briefly moved over your peaked nipples, making you moan softly. 

Spencer wasted no time though, his touch quickly retreated downwards to the only item left on your body. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and pulled them off, leaving you completely exposed and turned on beneath him.

Maybe it was a mixture of how close you came to death tonight and your feelings for him, but you didn’t want this moment to end. You wanted to hang on to it forever. That’s why you took your time, hands pushing off his underwear, your eyes meeting his.

It was like he could read your thoughts. Being as close as you two had been previous to this, it wasn’t surprising, but knowing you so well in this instance was just on a whole other level of mind blowing. He nodded, wanting to enjoy this for as long as he could too.

His hand covered yours, interlocking your fingers together as he pushed into you. The new feeling of him inside you was overwhelming but really good.

Your hands stayed laced together as he kissed you and moved within you. Your body met his rhythm and soon instead of two, your bodies moved as one.

Breaking the kiss, your head fell back against the pillow as you moaned. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he felt so incredible. His teeth bared into his bottom lip as he gazed down at you, his desire written plainly on his face.

“Spencer,” you whimpered, pulling your legs up his sides, allowing him a deeper access.

His movements quickened as your pleasure heightened, fulfilling the need for more. You couldn’t help but smile, even as you moaned, at the curl that fell over his brow, moving with each thrust.

“God, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his forehead falling against yours, eyes closing, “Fuck.”

You briefly registered the other noises in the room besides both of your moans: the bed creaking and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Spence,” you mumbled, whimpering as he hit a sensitive spot, “You're gonna wake up the entire team.”

“Let them hear,” he grunted, “Let them know who you belong to.”

“Whatever you want,” you mumbled, pulling him towards you once again.

Your fingers dug into his back as your high built deep within you. He moaned against your lips, his hands gripping your sides as you both moved frantically, desperate to reach complete ecstasy.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you moaned, your noises suddenly higher in pitch and volume, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He kissed you as you came apart, the fire in your veins shooting through you as quick as lightning. Luckily, his kiss muffled most of your loud moan. 

He buried his face in your neck as he soon followed, his own moans filling your ears, much to your delight.

Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you panted, starting to come down from the high. His body was slick against yours as he finally turned his face to yours, kissing you once again.

The cool air of the hotel room hit your sweaty skin, cooling it gently, but your insides still felt red hot, both in reaction to the sex and the fact that it was Spencer, the fact that he was as crazy about you as you were him.

The fact that both of you no longer played this complicated game you’d inadvertently been involved in for so long.

It was only after he’d stilled, his body still flush against your skin that he smiled one of his heart stopping grins, before finally speaking.

“Checkmate.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @simp-for-dr-reid @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @xshakesqueerx​ @queenofmischief​ @mattgraygubler​ @graceluvsyouu​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @alexisparmentier

[ais-for-alex]

Come Dance With Me:

So I don’t remember if I actually posted this one on tumblr or not (I couldn’t seem to find it but tbh I also didn’t look to hard) anyway this is a fluffy little fic I wrote awhile ago about the cubs dancing to country music and it’s one of my favorites so I’m gonna share it again. As always characters belong to @lumosinlove 🥰

***

Finn shivered as he tried fitting the key into his front door, somehow the cold winter air had seemed to seep into his bones while he was out running errands. His fingers fumbled with the key numb from the biting air, he knew he should have worn gloves before he left that morning but he couldn’t be bothered to actually find a pair. When he finally slotted the key in and stepped into the apartment, warmth washed over him making him sigh in relief.

“Honeys I’m home!” he called out to Leo and Logan as he slipped out of his jacket and kicked off his sneakers.

“In here,” Leo’s voice called out from the kitchen. Finn felt a smile creep onto his face, as he padded farther into the apartment. Heading towards the kitchen he could smell the delicious aroma of Leo’s cooking and hear soft music issuing from their speakers. Finn paused leaning against the kitchen doorframe a bubble of warmth bloomed in his chest as he watched Leo sway to the rhythm while stirring a pot on the stove, listening to the soft sound of him humming to the music.

Suddenly Leo glanced over his shoulder and spotted Finn watching him, he grinned before flicking the burner to low and setting his spoon aside then turned and opened his arms in a warm invitation.

Finn couldn’t help but let himself be drawn into Leos warmth his long arms wrapping around him.

“Welcome back baby,” Leo said softly pressing a kiss into his red curls, there was a deeper twang in his voice than usual, it made Finns insides squirm. “Have fun at the DMV?” he asked jokingly.

Finn shuddered lightly and pulled away from Leo a grimace on his face as he leaned back against the counter, “I swear to god I was in that line for three hours just for the lady to hand me a form to sign, at this point I am fully convinced that place is literal hell.”

Leo rolled his eyes and chuckled before turning back to the stove.

“Watcha making?” Finn asked leaning over to peer into the pot the smell making his mouth water.

“Mmm, potato soup. I know, probably not the healthiest choice but it’s freezing outside and I felt like comfort food.”

“Hey, no complaints from me it looks amazing Nutty,” Leo smirked at that and sprinkled cheese into the pot.

“Where’s Lo?” Finn asked jumping up to fully sit on the counter he reached over and snagged piece of bacon from where Leo had left them to cool.

“Hey!” Leo said swatting at his hand, “those are for the soup.”

Finn simply grinned and munched happily on the crispy piece.

“Lo said he’s spending the night at Dumo’s. Apparently Katie got sent home from school sick and wouldn’t stop crying until he came over.”

“I guess it’s just you and me tonight then,” Finn said, watching as Leo covered the pot to let it simmer.

He turned to Finn with a soft look in his baby blue eyes before walking forward and slotting himself between Finns open thighs running his hands up them appreciatively.

“I guess so,” Leo leaned forward and caught Finns Lips in a kiss so sweet he felt like he would melt into a puddle right on the counter. Finn could feel the smile on Leo’s mouth as he slid his fingers into silky blond hair pulling him in closer, his legs wrapping around Leo’s waist.

Suddenly Leo pulled away with a gasp of surprise, leaving Finn to chase his lips, “Ah! I love this song!” Leo said happily as the music shifted to the opening notes of something new. He leaned forward again and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Finns mouth and whispered, “Come dance with me baby?”

Finn nodded grinning and slid down from the counter, “of course I will peanut butter.”

Leo led Finn out into the open center of the kitchen and wrapped an arm around his waist pulling him in close until they were nearly pressed together, his other hand holding Finns as they began to sway together moving in circles to the music. With a sigh Finn closed his eyes and pressed his face into Leo’s neck letting him lead him around their kitchen, he could feel the gentle vibrations as Leo began softly humming to the song.

Suddenly Leo’s voice deep with the twang of his southern accent was crooning in his ear the lyrics of a love song, “There's a difference between ‘miss ya’ and ‘I miss your face’ And there's a difference in ‘what's going on?’ and ‘baby, how was your day?’ Yeah, there's a hell of a difference in saying three words or kinda just meaning two, there's a difference in ‘love ya’ and ‘I love you’ And I wanna be the difference, yeah I do.”

Finn was filled with so much love for this man he felt like his heart would burst, he simply basked in the warmth of Leos palm on his lower back pressing him close, and the feeling of his strong heartbeat against his cheek.

***

Logan was completely content to be tucked under Finns arm as they laughed with the crowd, cheering as James got thrown from the mechanical bull. The flashing lights nearly blinding and the music so loud if felt like it was vibrating his bones.

The team was high with adrenaline from their win against Dallas Logan could feel it buzzing through his veins along with the alcohol from his rum and coke. Everything felt warm and happy and when Finn threw his head back laughing Logan couldn’t help but press his lips to the exposed column of his throat, loving the way he could feel him swallow each sip of his drink.

Somehow despite his height Leo had disappeared into the crowd not long after the team had arrived loud and raucous in celebration. Logan glanced around searching for his tall frame but all he could see was a flood of cowboy hats and denim.

“I’ma get a new drink!” Finn yelled over the music, he held up his glass that was now only filled with ice for emphasis.

Logan nodded and let Finns arm fall from his shoulders, he instead snagged his hand and let Finn lead him through the crowd in the direction of the bar.

“What can I get y’all?” the bartender asked.

“Dark and Stormy for me, want anything Lo?”

Glancing down into his half full glass he shook his head, “Nah, I’m good.”

Finn turned back to relay the info to the bartender, while Logan let his gaze wander over the crowd once again.

“Hey, have you seen Nut at all tonight?” he asked Finn.

“Hmm, he said he was going to the bathroom back when we first got here. Haven’t seen him since,” Finn replied taking his cocktail from the bartender. However, Logan didn’t hear him because his eyes had locked on to a tall figure.

“Lo?” Finn asked following his gaze then letting out a gasp at the sight. Leo had fallen into formation with a massive group of people all following the same steps to the music booming through the bar. Somewhere along the way Leo had acquired a cowboy hat that had blue turquoise stones on it, the smile on his face was wide and bright and made like he was laughing, the flashing lights turned his pale skin blue and pink. Logan watched transfixed as he danced thumbs tucked into his pockets not missing a step.

Suddenly Leos eyes found him standing at the bar with Finn watching and his smile turned sultry as he rolled his body to the beat seemingly putting on a show for his boys. Once the song ended Logan lost sight of Leo in the crowd once more. That is until he felt strong arms wrap around him the heat of Leos body pressed flush against his back.

“Did you like watching me, Tremz?” Leo whispered against the shell of his ear making Logan shiver in his arms, the twang of his accent more prominent than normal.

“Nice hat, Nutter Butter,” Finn said with a smirk leaning forward to catch Leo’s lips in a kiss over Logan’s shoulder. Logan could feel Leo still swaying to the beat of the music his body moving with him almost involuntarily.

“Thanks baby,” he said with a grin when Finn finally pulled away. The music had shifted to something slow and Logan could feel his body relaxing further into Leos arms letting him move him with the rhythm. “Come dance with me, Lo?” he asked leaning down to press a soft kiss behind his ear.

“Oui,” he said sighing at the feel of his lips, “yeah, let’s go.”

Finn grinned watching as they made their way onto the dancefloor amongst the other swaying couples.

Leo chuckled when rather than taking his hand Logan simply wrapped both his arms around Leo’s waist letting the taller man lead them around the floor in circles. Logan sighed and buried his face against Leo’s chest. The two seemed to get lost in the movements, lost in the warmth of each other’s arms, in the lights, in the music until Leo cupped a hand against Logan’s jaw tilting his face upwards to look at him.

Logan’s breath caught at the sight of Leos eyes darker in the dim lighting only the flashing blue and pink casting them in color.

“Don't matter where we've been. No, there ain't no better view. Then you in my arms with my eyes on you. With my eyes on you.” The lyrics fell from his lip only a moment before Leo pressed them against Logan’s.

***

Leo could hear the music pouring from their apartment before he even reached the door, the floor seemed to be vibrating with the bass and in all honesty, he had no idea how someone hadn’t complained about it yet. Slipping through the door Leo kicked off his shoes and plopped the grocery bags he was carrying down on the counter, leaving them to search for the source of the loud music.

The moment he stepped into the living room Leo nearly choked on his laugh at the sight of Finn and Logan. As the music continued to spill from the speakers Logan was passionately lip-syncing into the handle of a broom while Finn was rocking air guitar a dust rag clutched in one hand, he watched as they jammed out to the loud music his face pulling into a bright grin. Somehow neither of them noticed as he slipped into the room that is until he turned the music down just a bit.

“Nutty!” Finn shouted throwing his arms open wide and wrapping him in a tight hug.

Leo kissed his cheek, “what are you guys doing,” he asked amused.

“Well, we were trying to clean,” Logan said gesturing widely with his broom, “but apparently you’ve been holding out on us. Why is your country music so catchy? And why can’t I stop listening to it?”

Leo cackled at his words, “it’s all part of my nefarious plan.”

“What nefarious plan?” Finn asked incredulously.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know,” Leo smirked.

“Plan or not,” Logan said turning the dial to turn the music back up, “this music slaps! Come dance with us Nutty!” Logan shouted with a grin holding his hands out for Leo to take.

Leo rolled his eyes but smiled and took his hand pulling Logan into a spin, Leo could Feel Finns hands on his hips as they moved to the beat. The three of them moved together limbs tangling as they stumbled around their apartment spinning and twisting to the booming music. They laughed at how absurd they must look but basked in how perfect the moment was anyway.

Leo pulled each of them in for a kiss letting his love pour into each of them through his smile and his lips. As the next song on the playlist began reverberating through their home Leo threw his head back and let the words fall from his lips, “If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, just let it be. If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be. Baby, just let it be.”

Leo had every intention of simply letting life be, and if he spent the rest of it just dancing with the men currently pressed on either side of him he was pretty sure that would be as close to perfect as life would ever get.

Read on AO3

[nam-nam-joon]

comptine d'un autre été, l'après-midi

or: yoongi's song

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Genre: meet-cute, slow born, fluff

Wordcount: 13.7k

Summary: when your favourite study spot is suddenly unavailable, a fit of annoyance and the tinkling of piano keys lead you to discover an entirely new space. and along with it, someone to keep company.

The library's secretary looked down her nose at you, standing half a step below the desk.

Her voice was notably cooler as she spoke again.

"The section you would like to access is closed for cleaning for the entire week from today on. We apologize for any inconveniences, but there's nothing to be done about it. You will have to go and study elsewhere, I'm afraid."

The old crone leaned back in her chair, her beady eyes fixated on the screen of her computer once more. The chain on her glasses jingled softly.

You turned away from her, staring into the rows of bookshelves accusingly while the fingers around a stack of papers holding it up to your chest tapped furiously.

No studying in the library today.

Great.

There was no other place as good to study in as that particular nook you'd found while one day idling between the rows; nowhere else could you focus so well, so thoroughly. Hours could pass while you were engrossed in the material, and the prospect of being robbed of that, today of all days - and furthermore, for the whole week?

The sun falling through the narrow, high windows suddenly didn't seem as bright and cheery anymore.

Briefly you debated just sitting at one of the long tables in the main area, with everyone else - but quickly scrapped that thought. There were more people than usual there, courtesy of the partial blockage no doubt, and you knew it just wouldn't work out.

Still steaming, you turned a corner and pushed through the first set of doors you could find, really needing some air after this monumental setback.

The fresh breeze hit your face. It slipped through your jacket and caused a shiver to run down your entire form.

Blinking against the light you tried to orientate yourself.

A few steps forward on the stones surrounding this entrance, green with moss here and there, didn't bring the expected clarity concerning your surroundings that you'd hoped for; but instead you realized this was simply a part of campus you apparently had never seen before.

The curiosity about this new, uncharted area grew into the hollow left by the frustration. If you wouldn't be able to study in your favourite spot, you could at least roam the area here and see what mysteries might be hidden.

There was a lot of grass between the occasional tree, on a long hill softly sloping down into the residential area across a street down below. Then there were the campus buildings with their windows. Most had their blinds drawn, and only those on the higher floors were cracked open to let some air in.

It was so quiet.

Somewhere almost out of hearing range was a tingling sound, like windchimes.

You took a deep breath.

There was nowhere specific to go.

Already the stress about meeting your deadlines, the library closing down, it began to lose its edge.

The tinkling came wafting over with the breeze again and you turned your face towards it, feet beginning to move before you'd fully settled on what to do, where to go next.

The stones forming the path around the building were barely visible under the encroaching greenery. They cushioned your steps and softened the ground. A corner lay ahead, and after turning you were presented with more green space between two buildings, eventually ending in a wall that was most likely part of the ancient university campus, overgrown with ivy but still standing strong against time.

The tinkling had shifted from vaguely sounding like windchimes to definitely piano tunes, but it was still nice.

About three quarters to the wall stood an old picnic table under a maple tree.

The surface was a bit uneven, the table was made out of wood and students and time alike had both carved into the soft material.

The seat was slightly damp as well - you remembered the few drops this morning on your way to your lecture - but with your jacket placed over the seat it was a nice spot.

Great, even, as soon as the sun peeked through the clouds again, bringing warmth into the still air of the secluded spot.

Whoever was playing piano was probably close by, you thought after working on the sheets you'd brought for a bit.

The tunes perfectly fit into the overall mood resting in this place, underlining the tranquil state lasting over it.

It was like you had stepped into a pocket universe, with the general buzz of campus being left behind.

The chiming of a bell tower roused you from your work pace. Not having fully arrived in the real world yet you reached for your phone to check the time after counting the rings of the bell - was it really 5pm already?

Apparently it was, and you hurried to collect everything and stuff it into your bag.

Shouldering it, you brushed off your jacket and looked over the place to make sure you hadn't left anything behind once more before it really was time to leave if you still wanted to catch your usual train home.

The music was silent as you took your leave, and you wondered for how long it had been like that already.

Pushing through the doors back into the library was like waking from a pleasant dream. Even though it was the library, and as such calmer than the rest of campus, there was still the usual ruckus. A myriad of voices whispering and creating the white noise backdrop for shoes squeaking, chairs dragging over the floor, doors closing and the occasional shout.

The big communal university spaces were almost too loud to bear and you squinted your eyes at the air saturated with sounds.

Once the entrance hall gave you free and you were hurrying towards the public transport stations it was better again, but there was still a lot more technical sounds digging into your ear drums. You resolved to plugging your headphones in and were able to breathe a little easier while on your commute home, even without music playing.

The next day was free, no lectures to attend, but you still returned to get some more work done.

For a while you were afraid you wouldn't be able to find the picnic table under the maple tree again; that it had all been a wonderful, too good to be true, dream - but your nook in the library was still closed off and there was the door you'd gone through yesterday.

The table was still there, as was the tree, and today the wood was fully dry and birds were chirping in the ivy on the wall.

With a drink in hand and happiness upon finding the wonderful small place again in your heart you sat down to work again, and even though it was tedious and required a lot of forced attention, it somehow felt a little better doing it out here.

Every once in a while you had to make a break and go for a toilet run, refilling your water bottle or simply eating a snack you'd brought.

Between yesterday and today you hadn't seen anyone else out here, and so had little qualms about leaving your stuff unattended. Safe your phone and wallet, of course.

The sun, blinking through the clouds now and then, slowly wandered over the sky.

It must have been early afternoon when you lifted your head after a particularly nasty paragraph and heard the piano play again.

A smile spread on your face as you stretched your arms and allowed yourself a break, sat back and just listened to the notes.

Whoever was playing was good.

Not that you were an expert, but your ears liked it and that was what primarily counted.

Occasionally there was a break in the flowing tune, when whoever was playing went back and redid a couple notes, sometimes once, sometimes needing two attempts, until they were satisfied and continued.

You smiled and let your thoughts wander, momentarily forgetting about your work.

The week of not having access to your library nook went by much faster than anticipated.

On the following monday you stood in the foyer, waiting for a friend, when the small sign "Library fully open again!" caught your eye.

You stared at it for a moment longer, suddenly remembering that you had only found the almost magical table away from the craze of reality solely because there had been cleaning business at work cutting you off your old favourite spot.

You were still mentally trying to puzzle everything out when Jin came floundering around the corner, steps wide and an easy smile spreading on his face at your sight.

"-to one~!"

"What?" You looked up, and the expression on the other's face fell a bit.

"Aha! So you weren't listening at all, after all."

"Sorry. Bit caught up in my thoughts. Was there something you wanted to say?"

"Will you be telling me your secret how you worked through the entire material to that first book we're reading, already? Like… That was inhumanely fast. I know you're good, but honestly. Tell me your secrets." He poked a finger into the soft area between ribcage and belt, and you swerved to the side and away from him to escape it.

"A brilliant work ethic and iron self-discipline!" You chirped and Jin rolled his eyes with an overly dramatic sigh. He hooked an arm around your shoulder and dragged you into his side.

"If the Prof is threatening to let me fail this course, will you tell me then?"

"Kim Seokjin you better not be deliberately slacking off."

"I wasn't!" He pouted, steering you into the right hallway. "Not before, anyways. But if there's a cool new drug like Why-Phy that you're taking to get done sooner, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course. It's either Why-Phy or blue crystal meth, Jinnie, you know me too well."

The brunet laughed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Three weeks since the library had reopened and you still had yet to return to the comfortable little chair next to the table with its small reading light.

You'd been lucky with the weather.

So far it had only rained or been too windy to sit outside longer on days you were too busy to get work done next to the lectures, or had to go early because of your job on the side.

Looking up through the leaves on the tree, blinking against the sun, you hoped it would continue to stay like this.

It felt so nice to be here, so private.

The windows leading into the yard were never not covered with blinds, at least the ones in the part of the building you were looking at frequently whenever your eyes needed a break.

The most noise was the wind in the tree or the ivy; occasionally students would sit on the other side of the wall and have a chat but that was about it.

That, and the piano music.

By now you were fairly certain it came from a room on the first floor, somewhere above the place you were sitting at, but there was no way to look into any of the rooms there.

As you turned and squinted up to them once more, not really seeing them but more wondering what might lay beyond the glass, something moving caught your eye.

Had it been an animal?

You blinked to clear your vision, but by then whatever had caused the disturbance had disappeared.

Maybe someone had looked down?

The uncomfortable feeling hadn't taken root fully before you shooed it away; surely it had been something else, a reflection of a passing bird, probably. And even if someone had looked out and seen you sitting here, so what? It wasn't illegal.

You ended your self-assigned break and went back to the material, but the thought of someone watching you, intruding on the privacy you'd enjoyed here, didn't fully leave your mind.

After finishing up early for the day you decided to go try and see if there was a way into the building you'd sat in front of so often now, and if, maybe, you'd be able to find the room the music was coming from every other day.

By the time you had bested the maze of hallways and never before used by you doors leading into other unknown parts of the campus, it was late already.

You tried some of the doors that you thought were on the right floor, but all of them were locked and there was no music coming from anywhere, either.

Disappointed, you went home.

It was the weekend afterwards, but on the next monday you were back, now finding your way to the remote, barely used building a little easier already. There was a nice long break before your next lecture and you were curious to explore more.

You held the door open after passing through as someone approached from the inside, and then went on. Silence lasted on the hallways here.

A window going out from the staircase showed the familiar corner, with the last bit of the library barely visible behind it, and you felt satisfied knowing this was where you'd wanted to go.

On the first floor you paused to catch your breath.

The lights were on overhead, but no other person was in sight.

The doors were locked as well, much like they had been on friday.

You had almost given up hope when a knob turned in your palm and you almost fell into the room behind it as the door gave away.

Dust danced in the spare light that fell through the windows.

Sheets of paper littered the floor. A few tables were pushed to the walls, there was an old cupboard missing its two front doors. More paper and empty binders were stacked in the exposed compartments.

What dominated the room though was the grand piano in its middle.

The shiny black surface beckoned to be touched by your fingertips, and you couldn't hold back from running them over the sleek paint.

It seemed old, if the slightly rusted wheels at the bottom of the pillars it was standing on were anything to go by, but it looked very well kept.

The cover lowered over the keys opened without sound. Black and white keys shared the space underneath it.

It felt wrong to push them, entice sound when you knew there were usually much more skilled hands at work here, and so you gently put the cover back and let your gaze explore the room more.

A big sheet covered a mixpult along one of the walls, several electric keyboards were stacked on the floor beside it.

The walls were a faded yellow which must've been nice once but now looked stale.

There was more paper around the piano, discarded sheet music, printed and self-written, you noticed with surprise as you bent down to inspect it.

Maybe a handful were pinned to the wall closest to the piano, exclusively hand written and, by the looks of it, self-composed.

Whoever was working their magic here so often really had a passion, it seemed, and it made you wonder why they weren't busy doing this over in the faculty for music.

Then again, you mused while stepping up to the window, this place was incredible in getting creative juices flowing. You'd experienced it yourself with work, could only guess at how it must be for someone so musically inclined.

Your picnic table under the maple tree was maybe three steps to the right underneath the window, in direct line of sight from where you stood.

It felt almost weird, knowing that if whoever was practicing here so often had even only once stood up and walked towards the window to look outside had most likely seen you sitting under the tree.

A moment longer you hung after your thoughts.

Then you blinked and remembered that you were probably not welcome here, with the expensive piano and the private compositions, and quickly and silently left the room again, making sure to close the door behind you.

You didn’t go back again in the afternoon, but as you sat down two days later, the tinkling of the keys was drifting down to your spot once more. Smiling about their company, you focused on your work.

It seemed like good things wouldn't last.

The professors heaped enormous amounts of extra essays, excerpts and transcriptions upon each of your heads, and caught between balancing your work and study life, along with having to prep multiple presentations, you were left yearning for the calm spot beneath the tree.

Namjoon had managed to get you to admit where you'd been vanishing off to over the past weeks; after loudly proclaiming that even though the library had been squeaky clean for weeks now he had yet to see you return to your spot.

"Well maybe I found a better spot!" You defended your absence, over lunch in the cafeteria.

"Aha!" Jin yelled, making everyone in a five meter radius around him flinch. "So you have been hiding! I knew it."

"It's just a tiny spot under a tree, outside the old Uni's wall. Stumbled upon it by accident, but a total good find."

“I see.” Namjoon was too intelligent to not notice you didn’t really want to talk about this and soon after dropped the topic.

Rain ran down the windows in streams and you sighed at its presence.

Like this there was no way to get out to the table, and even if it would have cleared up instantly - the wood would need at least several hours in direct sunshine to dry.

Seemed like the last of your luck had run out.

With the lighting from inside the hallways the world outside was hardly recognizable.

You loved the library, and especially the little nook, but there was just something about that table and the tree out among the downpour that was a lot more appealing now than your old favourite spot.

Sitting down anywhere else seemed impossible. Especially, you dimly thought to yourself, especially because the music would be missing.

It was ten times better than listening to your own stuff, because you didn't have to choose what to hear and couldn't simply skip tracks. A little like radio; you could just hear what was given to you, but unlike radio there were no ads.

You found yourself on ground level of the deserted building, hand on the railing and foot on the first step of the stairs before you realized - you could just sit down somewhere close to the room, listen if someone was playing today and do your work there.

Fuelled by this revelation you took the steps two at once and arrived in the hallway a little out of breath, with your heart pounding not only from the exercise.

There it was. The music.

Inexplicably content about the recent developments you picked a clean enough looking spot on the floor, opened your bag and pulled out your notes.

It wasn't as nice as sitting outside, you came to see. Natural light was a lot better to read and work alongside texts with, and the artificial kind provided here could simply not compete.

Still, with the musical undertones, you were able to cross at least some of the workload off before you allowed yourself to sit back against the wall, ignore the stupid pages in front of you and simply listen to what was being played.

It had shifted in the last days. Had it been pieces vaguely familiar to you at the start had the melodies become more and more unrecognizable over time, and now you sat a few steps from the door, eyes closed and listening, thoughts drifting further from the sheets surrounding you by the minute.

The melody was low, subdued but still driving. It sounded like something that would play at the start of a movie, a car ride maybe, with the glowing lights of a city pouring through the windows but no sound audible but this song.

It felt like the car was on its way somewhere, somewhere important, and the people inside the car knew of the importance of this destiny but were too overwhelmed to talk about it.

Maybe the scene would end at the sea, the viewer expecting to hear the ocean's waves crash against the cliff, the gulls crying overhead, but the song would continue playing.

Softly, the tune changed, and you furrowed your brows.

The melody gradually lightened until the great weight was fully lifted from it and the scene with the car and the lights and the muted ocean seemed entirely unfitting. This was more like spring, breathing in the warming air, seeing the sun again after months, that kind of stuff.

You were still drifting, trying to think of what else it reminded you of when the silence became more pronounced. Whoever it was had stopped playing, and you opened your eyes, falling from the small clouds of dreaming back into the shabby hallway.

Steps rang out behind the door, a window closed and you stared at your bag and the spread out work in horror. There was no time to pack it all up.

The door clicked open.

A pair of dark eyes stared into yours, the look of surprise at so unexpectedly seeing the other on both your faces.

Black hair reached over eyebrows, barely visible through a split in the strands.

A hand clutched what looked like a set of keys, the sleeve of the dark hoodie almost slipping over it.

He was first to break the moment of pure surprise. Clearing his throat he stepped out of the room fully, pulled the door shut behind him.

By then you'd managed to look down on the orderly mess you'd made and back up.

"I really like your music." You attempted a smile. The guy, likely not much older than you, pressed his lips into a line.

"Thanks."

It sounded softer than his expression had led you to believe. His eyes flitted over the floor for a bit before he spoke again, not having moved much more than a step. "You really shouldn't be sitting around here, I don't know when it got cleaned last."

"Ah." You twirled your pen. "Well…"

The dark haired stranger sniffed and buried his hands in his pants’ pockets, squaring his shoulders in a way that made him look incredibly uncomfortable.

"Did I interrupt something? Do you need me to move or-" You trailed off.

"No! No, no." He was quick to interrupt, one hand stretched out to halt your beginning frenzy of packing up. "No, it's alright, you weren't- doing… anything." He coughed and rubbed his neck with the free hand. "You… You usually sit outside, under the tree, right?"

You met his gaze, saw his eyes glinting once before he looked away, scuffing a used Vans sneaker on the floor.

"-Yeah, that's true. Couldn't really, today…" Gesturing towards the rain-streaked window, the other followed your line of sight and huffed.

"Yeah, weather's been shit all day. The library's probably chock full, too." He trailed off, and you observed with interest how he seemed to build himself up to the next thing to say.

"I've been… seeing you. Not wanting to sound like… a creep or so, I just- I noticed you sat outside quite often."

You smiled, and his shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Yeah! I wandered around after the library was closed for cleaning the other day, and came across this place. It's amazing. So quiet and basically nobody around… and the background music is great, too."

He looked down on his shoes at your words but you could see how one corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"This was by the way a major factor for coming here today. It's just- Quiet, void of any people? Very few distractions? Plus free music? There's just no other place where I can get all that."

He rolled his eyes but the smile on his lips broadened. When he moved his head you could see the tips of his ears peeking through his hair, both a healthy shade of red.

"Min Yoongi." He held out his hand after studying you for a moment. "Resident ambience dealer, apparently."

Grinning, you took his larger palm, feeling the bones in his thin fingers as you told him your own name. "-Resident study freak and avid listener to Min Yoongi's compositions."

He grumbled at that. "You listen to piano a lot?"

"Not really. Only when I come here."

This time his eyes stayed on you for longer, and he leaned his back against the opposite wall while slowly easing closer to the ground.

"Then how did you know it was my own stuff I was playing?"

You tugged some papers closer by their corners, beginning to shepherd them together.

"I was in there some time ago, when you weren't there. Wanted to know where the music was coming from, took me ages to even find a way into this place. Your room is really messy, you know that?"

His face was halfway turned away again but at the humour in your voice he looked back, pout on his features.

"I never meant for anyone else to see in the first place! You don't get to complain!" He huffed, glancing at where you were chuckling across from him at his indignant outcry.

"Okay okay, I promise I won't go back inside. But that what you played last today, that was really good. Is that one of yours, too?"

He bit on his bottom lip and nodded, fingers rubbing over the fabric of his pants stretching over his knees.

“What’s your major? Music?”

“Something in that direction, yeah.” Then, after a pause in which he seemed to realize it would be the polite thing to do, he asked: “You?”

The rain continued to run down the glass as you spoke, telling the other about your plans with studying, and the hopes you had. He listened intently and only rose his voice after it was obvious you had ended, and it created a nice back and forth. Thunder clapped outside, growling and forcing him to speak up a little more.

You sighed.

"Guess I better head back if I still wanna make it home today." You swept the last of the sheets together and put them into their binder, shoving the concoction unceremoniously back into your bag.

You brushed a bit of dust off your pants and quietly pulled a face as you peeled a long hair with cobwebs off your pants.

When you met Yoongi's eyes he looked off to the side, softly shrugging. "Told you…"

"Are you heading back, too?" Now it was him looking up at you, hands linked over his knees.

"Yeah?"

You held out your hand, and after mustering it for a moment, he took it.

Either he had a lot of self-control over his body or he wasn't weighting much; either way you pulled him up and then he was towering over you once more.

"You have a car?" You asked him on the way down, looking up from the keys in his hand.

"Hm? Oh. Oh yeah. Just- It’s a hand me-down from my brother."

He cleared his throat.

"Aren't you afraid someone's gonna steal your stuff?"

He turned his head towards you, his eyebrows creasing the skin between them.

"Because you don't lock the room?" You elaborated. Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the steps down.

"Not really. As far as I know it's only us knowing of these rooms even being here, and most of them are locked, so…"

"But you keep copies of your songs, right? Photos or some app to write it down with?" He looked at you like you had just proposed to assassinate the Dean.

"No?" He held the door open for you and then you were out in the main part of campus again.

Part of you had wondered if Yoongi would just straight up disappear as soon as you crossed the threshold, but it appeared he was very much real as he fell into step alongside you.

"Then what if someone does get in? And steals them? Or you forget to close the window and rain gets in and ruins the sheets?"

He shrugged, and the way he seemed to care so little frustrated you.

"But it's such great music!"

He shrugged again but looked on his shoes while doing so.

For a moment you were quiet, staring straight ahead while the thoughts were racing behind your forehead.

"-"

"No."

"I haven't said anything!"

He glared at you from the corner of his eyes. "But you were going to. Whatever it is, no. If anything happens to my music, that's my business, okay? Don't worry about it."

His resolute tone halted every attempt at clapping back in its core, and the few minutes it took until you were out in the entrance hall that was swimming with how many students came in and went you spent in silence.

Yoongi half turned towards you when you were already beaming up at him. "I'll hear you around?"

"-Fuck me." He covered his face with a hand and you laughed at his exasperated groan at your joke.

"Bye Yoongi!"

"Honestly, get lost..."

You were on your way to the table again, binder under your arm. Rounding the corner and you would have almost slipped on the moss growing over the path; you stared back and silently cursed while being glad you didn't actually fall.

The surface of the desk was wet when you reached it.

"It's been like, an entire day, why are you not dry." You said lowly, feeling the top down. Definitely too wet for anything paper related.

"You're late."

You looked up at the drawl, only needing a moment until your eyes fixed on the mop of hair peeking out of the window.

"Oh, yeah?" You looked down on the table, not really knowing what else to say. "Well... your ass is late, too."

"The fuck."

The confusion on Yoongi's face was a delight to see. A moment longer you stayed rooted to the spot next to the table, then his voice came again.

"You wanna come up here now or what. That desk won't dry up until tomorrow. If you're lucky."

Squinting up you shielded your eyes against the glare of the bright clouds overhead.

"You won't mind?"

Yoongi seemed to momentarily contemplate it, looking straight ahead. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, you can either get your ass wet sitting outside, or get it dirty sitting in the hallway, but if you enjoy my music really that much it'll be a total experience sitting in the same room while i play. Your choice."

He vanished from the open window and closed it, only leaving a crack open.

Your fingers tapped on the binder.

Five minutes later you knocked on the blank door, waiting patiently in your spot until steps sounded out and Yoongi opened.

He was sporting the same dark hoodie today, fidgeting with the sleeves of it.

"May I come in?" You inquired, and he wordlessly stepped aside.

Together with Yoongi's help you pulled one of the overturned tables right way up, found a suitable chair and then wiped the surfaces off. There was a small sink in the adjacent storage room, with running water and all, and eventually your new desk was in a condition you deemed okay.

You sat down on your chair and Yoongi, who'd been brooding over his sheet music since you'd shooed him off to clean everything by your standards, looked back down on the floor. He perched on the run down piano stool, elbows on his knees, and peered on the papers strewn across the ground.

Occasionally he'd bend down to pick one up but you had too much to do to really watch him for longer.

At one point he turned and you allowed yourself a moment of rest. He pushed the hoodie up his arms, almost to his elbows, before his fingers placed themselves on the keys and he started to play.

He had been right. It was something entirely else to sit in the same room with him while he played.

Like this the music drowned out any other sound that may have sailed in from outside; whether it be the call of bird or bell.

It was nice.

Your thoughts calmed down until they ran smooth, circling around topics once or twice before moving on.

The world existed only in this room, the music filled your ears and the shabby lighting overhead concealed the darkening sky outside.

At one point Yoongi stood in front of your table, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie once more. His knuckles pushed at his skin. The edge of one sleeve was beginning to fray.

Mildly irritated, you looked up and met his eyes.

"What?"

"Uh isn't this the time you usually leave?"

You held contact a moment longer before looking down on your watch and tsking disapprovingly. Yoongi's shoulders twitched up.

"Shit, it is."

Ripped out of the peaceful mood you began to collect pages and close books, mentally going through the timetable and if you’d still make the train. "Are you heading out, too?"

He nodded and, growing braver again, stacked a few materials while you shoved everything in your bag. "Thanks." You hurried.

It'd be a bit tight, time-wise, but Yoongi's long legs effortlessly kept pace with your quick steps.

"How'd you know this was my time to leave, anyways?" You narrowed your eyes at him, not hiding the smile on your lips. "Have you been stalking me?"

Yoongi opened and closed his mouth without saying anything once or twice before he looked ahead and said "It was the time you left, last time." His shoulders were still drawn up as he peeked at you from the side. "I'd never-"

"I was kidding." You took half a step to the side and bumped your elbow into the general area of his arm. His hand reflexively came up and clutched the spot.

“I'm a creature of habit. If I miss this train I'll have to wait forever until the next one comes and that's always a huge pain."

He nodded, and shortly after, bid you farewell before you parted behind the front doors.

It had rained the entire weekend long and you didn't bother to go outside to the table, instead turning left before the library even came into view and headed straight for Yoongi's hideaway.

He didn't open when you knocked and you found the room empty after peeking inside.

He came in half an hour after you, in a dark blue hoodie this time, and looked a bit startled at seeing you there.

"Hi!" You smiled at him, over the backrest of the chair. "I hope you don't mind, it rained again and I-"

He shrugged and shuffled past you, heavily slumping down in front of the piano.

He didn't say anything and his melodies today were slow and deep.

Before you could turn to leave after the clock had well advanced, his back straightened and, anticipating him speaking up, you paused; jacket already on and bag in hand.

"Thanks for not asking me what's wrong."

He was talking to the piano, but you still smiled a bit.

"Of course."

"I don't know, if, I said it already but, you're very- welcome to come here if, you know, the weather…"

You looked down on your shoes. Only after it didn't seem like he was going to finish his sentence did you raise your voice.

"I don't think you did, but I really appreciate it. Thank you. Will you stay a little longer today?"

His gaze fled your face for his piano again after you raised your head.

"Yeah."

"Take it easy, Yoongi."

"Whatever."

You smiled at him even though you didn't know if he'd see, and then headed out.

You'd gotten ahead of homework and so could ease a little during your work sessions in Yoongi's piano room now, and during one of those easier days decided to finally ask the question that had been bouncing around your head for a while now.

"How'd you get the piano tuned? And isn't it really old?"

He didn't look up from his sheet, brows still furrowed at something he'd probably written down a few days ago and now wasn't satisfied with anymore.

"I watched a few Youtube tutorials."

You put your chin in one of your hands and grinned, but Yoongi broke eye-contact quickly after glancing your way.

"You did it yourself?"

"Yeah? Wasn't. Wasn't that hard."

Your grin widened and his glare intensified at its presence. "Min Yoongi. Musical Genius."

"Shut up."

His ears coloured red and gave him away, and you'd have loved to go over and give him a quick hug.

You didn't know how many other people got to appreciate him, but if his hideout here was anything to go by it weren't many. Probably.

He was adorable.

Even when the sun was shining outside and it had been dry for several days you wouldn't go to the little desk, favouring the clear sound of Yoongi playing and his occasional comment, mumbled to himself. It was far too cold now, anyways. Winter was fast advancing as November went on.

He had a way to be in the same space with you while not demanding any of your attention - which made it incredibly pleasant to have him around.

If you weren’t spending time together in amicable silence he was surprisingly easy to talk to. Most of his answers were short, or mumbled sounds, and yet you never got the impression he was fed-up or annoyed. He asked things too, occasionally; and though objectively you hadn’t known him that long, it still felt weird to remember there had been a time without him in your life.

Once, after you'd struggled with a particularly boring part of a required text that your brain just wouldn't process at all, he'd quietly asked if you could come over and take a look at something he'd been working on.

You stared at him, the skin between your eyebrows creased.

"Yoongi I don't know anything about music. Do you really-"

"Please?"

"...Fine."

You were standing next to him already, preparing to sit, when he parted his lips and looked up at you.

"Could you… sit with your back to the keys? It's just, I…"

It wasn't his fault, you were frustrated by the text; but you couldn't help the forced exhale of air that left your nose.

Yoongi's shoulders twitched. You hesitated, wanted to say something, didn’t find the words and then made an effort to move as calmly and quietly as possible to not upset him further.

"Sorry. Long day.” You said in a low voice, feeling strangely raw. “Play, if you… if you want?"

You could see him looking at you, through the corners of your eyes, and part of the tension left his form again at your words, underlying tone asking for forgiveness.

"S'alright." He breathed, just before clearing his throat and placing his hands on the keys.

As he played, the tight knit ball of jumbled thoughts behind your forehead stopped growing.

The longer you listened, the more tension left your brain; the cramped thoughts and need-to-do’s losing their alarming vibrant colours.

You felt yourself calm down.

He broke off playing and coughed nervously.

"So that- was version one. This is version two."

And he began to play again, the same piece, though slightly different, and this time you reminded yourself to pay more attention and really listen.

After he'd finished, the frustration over your text had thinned out and you were fully focused on the task at hand.

"So?" He asked, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"Can you play the first one again? Just for comparison?"

He nodded and went back to it.

"I think I like the first one better.” You decided. “The second one… implies something darker lurking beneath, and, I guess if that's what you intended it's executed well but the rest sounds lighter and so-"

He huffed out a laugh and dropped his head, hands sandwiched between his thighs.

"Hm? Not good? What I said?"

"No, no," He hurried to reassure, eyes gleaming under his fringe. "No, it's… I was hoping you'd say that, I guess. Gives me a reason to scratch this part. Didn't even like it much, I just felt- Yeah. Thanks."

At the almost-grin spreading on his lips you had to smile as well.

Had your shoulders touched during the entire time you'd sat here?

He broke the eye-contact first, looking back towards the keys once before meeting your gaze again.

"Rough day hm?"

"Yeah." You looked ahead, not really seeing the wall there. "Yeah, you could say that…"

Another sigh and then you were feeling the exhaustion more and more.

It was a spur of the moment thing, really, and you asked before you could hold yourself back.

"Are you okay with touches?"

"Ha? What do you-"

"Can I put my head on your shoulder?"

"Oh. Uh-"

"It's- It's fine if you don't want that," You hurried to backpedal, already mentally chiding yourself. "I'll be o-"

"No, it's, uh, you, ah, you can! Put your head on… yeah. I don't mind."

His voice got quieter and quieter until he was mumbling the last sentence.

His shoulder, although cushioned by his hoodie, was bonier than you'd thought. But it was nice, to rest for a moment, and you closed your eyes, exhaling slowly.

Yoongi's breathing had his shoulders rising and falling, and unconsciously, you adapted your rhythm to his, until you were breathing in synch.

"Thank you." You mumbled, adjusting your head and feeling your forehead brush his hood.

"Don't worry about it." This up close his voice was even deeper, and the low tone soothed the rawness your ears had suffered under for the past days in crowded lecture halls and hallways.

Ever so softly his cheek came to rest against the top of your head as he gave into the shy touch.

"Do you sing, Yoongi?"

You still had your eyes closed, listening to Yoongi's breathing and the sound his clothes made when they rubbed against themselves, against his skin.

"Sometimes." He answered after a pause. "More rap than… singing lullabies."

"I bet you sound good doing either."

He snorted, which pretty clearly gave away how little he thought of your compliment.

A moment long neither of you spoke.

Then he let out a heavy sigh.

"Why exactly do you think that?"

Your left arm was slightly pushed forward as he moved his left arm, from where the backs of your forearms were pressed against each other.

"You have a very nice voice, deep, and steady, and- It has that ring to it, you know, the same undertone. Some people speak and you can't really make out the tone or… colour… of their speech, but your voice doesn't jump around. You could probably read a phone book and make it sound nice."

"Okay that just ruined everything you said before."

"Oh fuck off! You asked!" There was a laugh in your voice as you lifted your head to look at him exasperatedly. He blinked, looking a bit sleepy, as if he had rested his eyes a little, too.

At your expression he hollowed out his cheeks.

"Jeez, don't behead me. I'll take it, okay? Happy now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

You pursed your lips and waited, until Yoongi would break eye-contact, but he didn’t surrender as quickly. He blinked and kept looking, and everything in you wanted to put your head back down, back on his shoulder, and stay like that a little longer, talk a bit more.

But this small break had gone for a bit too long already and you knew you should get back to work. That text sadly wouldn't read itself.

An unfamiliar touch on your arm held you back.

"Can you stay a bit longer?"

Half standing above him already he had to tilt his head so he could look at you.

"I really should-" You began, and then sighed, admitting that you really didn't want to move to yourself, and sat back down. "...Screw that text."

Yoongi's shoulder bumped yours, almost like an invitation, and you gave in without much thought.

You felt the bones shift as Yoongi lifted his hands and began to press single keys, filling the silence of the room with tunes.

"That text got you all worked up, hm." He spoke again after a while.

You frowned at nothing.

"It's just so dull. The professor said it serves as an example of what not to write, so it's basically just- we're just supposed to read it and mark all the mistakes, to avoid doing the same mistakes, but honestly… I know how and what I have to write, I shouldn't- Ugh. See? It's annoying me again already."

You huffed, leaning a bit more on Yoongi.

His cheek found your hair again and he chuckled.

"What's that idiot done wrong in his writing then?"

You weren't so sure afterwards, if he really had wanted to know or if this was just Yoongi's way of getting you to review the material differently, but you supposed it had worked out.

It was a lot easier to read and complain aloud while he sat next to you and listened to you rant, even though the finer nuances were surely lost on him since he wasn't studying the same thing.

On your way back to your flat you held your left arm with your right until you saw yourself in a reflection and noticed it.

Sitting next to Yoongi like that had only further proved how comforting his presence was, and now, without anything like that to be repeated in the foreseeable future, the missing touch felt a lot worse than where you had been before.

Technically you'd see him again tomorrow, or the very least Thursday.

But who was to say he'd ask you to sit with him again?

You ran into him during lunch the next week after not making it back to his room before that.

He was looking off to the side, in the direction of the lousy holiday decorations that had popped up in the major community spaces - You needed a moment to recognize him as the same guy who was playing piano while you studied. His bare arms, sticking out of a black shirt that hung from his shoulders, were almost shocking. That, and the surroundings clashing so harshly with what you were used to see him surrounded by.

“Hey, Yoongi!” You called out after the realization had sunk in, and turned with the tray in your hand.

His shoulders jerked up, but as his searching gaze connected with yours he relaxed.

“Hi.” He rubbed over his neck. “What are you…” His eyes fell on the food you were balancing in your hands. “Right. Lunch.”

“Are you headed somewhere?” You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Yoongi shook his head slowly, hands clenching around his hoodie he carried in them.

“Wanna sit with my friends and me? They’re just over there, next to the pillar.”

“Uh-”

“They’re all really friendly and don’t bite, I promise.”

“...Fine.” He sighed and trudged after you as you turned.

Whenever he agreed to do something you had proposed to him he made it out to seem like it was a decision that had taken him weeks to arrive to, or if it was something incredibly heavyweight he couldn’t just agree to, but whenever you offered him to go back on saying yes, or reminding him he could opt out any moment, he was always vehement to defend his point. It almost looked like he did things purely out of spite even when you’d meant well to second-guess his willingness to cooperate.

It was the same today, as he followed you through the rows, and then pulled out a chair next to yours as you put the tray down.

“Friends, this is Yoongi. He plays piano.”

“My most defining feature, apparently.” He grumbled in response and sat down, not after shimmying into his hoodie.

“Oh hey Yoongles!” Jin perked up, the burrito in his hands falling apart. “You two know each other?!”

“That does surprise me, I agree.” Hoseok added, stealing bits of the filling of Jin’s food that fell to the plate below. The quirky guy had one day invited himself into your circle of friends and nobody had had a heart to kick him out, but apparently he did know other people on campus save your group.

“You know him?” You retorted, pulling out your water bottle before starting on the food.

“Some people socialize, my dear friend.” Jin said, swatting at Hoseok’s hand.

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t aware Yoongi did that.”

“Ouch?” The black haired guy next to you said and got a round of laughs back.

“Sorry.” You apologized. He stole the small package of chips from your tray and opened it.

“I mean, it’s kind of true, I suppose.” He relented.

“Did you write down what the Prof wrote on the blackboard last Monday?” Jin had given up on his burrito and was furiously wiping at his hands while a happy Hoseok gleefully dug into the scattered remains. Jimin next to him made grabby hands and the plate got pushed over so he’d reach it too. Jin pursed his lips.

“Yeah. You need them or what?” Yoongi dropped a chip in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Jin turned his head and a more up-beat expression settled on his features. “Pretty please!”

Yoongi groaned.

Around half an hour later the cafeteria filled up as more and more students took their break, and soon enough your group rose to make room for the people who actually needed the space to sit down.

“You going to practice today?” You asked Yoongi as your group made its way towards the exit. He nodded absentmindedly.

“Oh, can I come?” Hobi suddenly appeared by Yoongi’s other side, apparently having overheard the conversation.

Yoongi glared.

“And have you leave prints on all my shit? No thank you.”

“Excuse you these sneakers are brand new! Not a single speck of du- Hey!”

To your utter delight Yoongi had stepped on the brilliant white of Hobi’s new shoe and left a dusty brown mark.

The sputtering outcry got the attention of Namjoon and Jin who’d been walking ahead, and after placating words and a glare from Yoongi you all parted ways, Hobi notably not tagging along with you.

“That was mean.” You told him, still laughing over Hoseok’s exasperation.

Yoongi shrugged, hands in his pockets, but you saw the smile on his lips just before he angled his face in a way that didn’t allow you to observe his features any longer.

The days until the short christmas break were counting down.

One weekend you spent baking with Jimin and Rose, and were left with so many cookies you put a good amount in a box, wrapped it in newspaper and brought it with you to give to Yoongi as an early present.

You could pinpoint the exact moment he saw the gift sitting on his chair after he had come in, because he stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?” He asked, and you looked up from the transcribing exercise.

“What what?”

“That.” He pointed, as if a motion detection sensor would go off if he took only a step closer.

You clasped your hands under your chin and looked from the chair to Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the elf that came in and dropped this off?”

His eyebrows drew together and he glared at you.

“I have a feeling I’m looking at this ‘elf’ right now.” He crossed his arms. You shrugged.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll find someone else to give it to.” That cute first-semester from Jimin’s Survey of Linguistics and Languages class maybe, Jungkook.

“No.” Yoongi grumbled, and you mentally scratched having to rehome the box of cookies. Although, come to think of it, there were probably enough cookies left at home to pack another box. Maybe you’d ask Jimin if he could ask Jungkook if he’d like some.

He sat after picking the present up, hesitantly, and weighted it in his hands.

“What’s in it?” He turned to you.

You lifted an eyebrow. “Wait until the evening of the 24th and find out. Or abandon all social norms and just tear into it now, I wouldn’t judge.”

“Like fuck you would.” He huffed and then looked from the patched up paper to you. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and then decided against it, only placing the gift on top of the piano, in a spot where it wouldn’t be in the way.

You got up earlier than usual, wanting to get a bit of shopping done before leaving for your parent’s home for the holidays.

Yoongi’s head jerked up, and the pencil he’d twirled in his fingers clattered to the ground.

“Is it five already?” He asked, hands reaching for his phone.

“Nah,” You slung your scarf around your neck. “I’ll run some errands.”

“Oh okay.”

To your surprise, Yoongi started grabbing his things as well.

You paused.

“Yoongi, what…?”

His gift under his arm, the other froze.

“Huh? Didn’t you ask if I could drive you today?”

You blinked.

Dim, very dim was the memory, of having asked him, a week ago. You hadn’t decided to do the shopping today, back then.

“You- You don’t have to. Sorry, I forgot, my bad-” You bit in your lip. “You, uh, you stay, and… Compose a while longer. I’ll be fine.”

In the silence between you, you could hear the wind whistling around the corners of the building.

It was dark outside already.

Yoongi was still looking at you, and though you’d come to understand his expressions a bit, this one was undecipherable.

“So you… Don’t want me to drive you?”

He looked weird, the newspaper wrapped box under his arm, his jacket slung over the other. Ready to go, at your convenience.

It twisted your heart a little.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t remember you saying yes, and my shopping-”

“I could still drive you. It’s faster than the train?” His eyebrows twitched upwards in the middle, just a tiny bit.

“-Okay.” You agreed, and his posture relaxed at last.

His car smelled new, even though everything in it was carrying marks of the years it had been used.

You stayed silent, unsure how to proceed, and as the lights of downtown illuminated the inside of his car, you turned your head to look at him.

“Would you like to come do the shopping with me?”

The car rolled to a stop at the next red light, and in the low light, Yoongi’s eyes glinted as he looked over.

“If you want me to?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.”

"I bought an iPad."

"You what?" You looked up from your work, across the room and met his eyes over the piano. He was glaring.

"You heard me."

"I did. Why though?"

January was almost over by now, but it would take a while longer until the sun would win back her intensity, and not let the daylight fade this early in the afternoon. Though, clouds littered the sky today, which was probably the main cause why the lights overhead reflected in the glass already at this hour.

Yoongi looked down on the keys, his hands rubbing over his thighs.

"You won't stop nagging me about losing the sheets or forgetting the tunes, so I thought… I could record some of the songs. Scan the sheets. That kinda stuff."

You smiled, unashamed and wide, and Yoongi's glare intensified.

"You're gonna come have a look or what."

He sounded a little pressed and without any more words you left your desk and crossed the room.

He shuffled aside so you could fit yourself next to him.

The tablet wasn't the latest model - which would have really surprised you, otherwise - but there was something like a microphone plugged into the lightning port and clipped to the edge.

"Is that a mic?" You leaned forward, having had half the mind to sit on your hands to not accidentally touch anything and ignite Yoongi's wrath.

"Yes." He grumbled, still a bit more fidgety than usual. "Cost almost as much as the damn thing so I hope you're happy."

The grin stole into the wonder and awe that had captured your expression before.

"I am. Very. Recorded anything yet?"

You'd arrived a bit later today, courtesy to an extended lunch with Namjoon and Jin.

Yoongi's eyes glinted when he looked from the keys to you.

"And have you chewing my ear off for not letting you be there? Fuck no. Was gonna wait until you got here. -Shut! It."

You bit your lip to keep the cooing at bay, opting to gently nudge his shoulder with yours instead.

"I appreciate it. Wanna play now?"

The nervosity was back, the way he bounced his leg so uncharacteristically agitated  for him. He was more like a pond usually, calm and undisturbed.

"Keep quiet alright?"

You nodded.

He sighed and rubbed his hands one last time. Then he extended one, woke the screen and unlocked the tablet. The recording program was already open.

He clicked the red button and instantly a flat line appeared, only beginning to curve up and down as he shifted and began to play.

Keeping your breathing flat was probably unnecessary and yet you couldn't help it.

Yoongi's hands danced over the keys, pushing down and lifting in such rapid succession you could hardly keep up with. It was mesmerizing to observe, but not only that.

With his eyes closed and his head angled he gave himself to the music completely, feeling every note.

There was a small pulling in your chest, from the area around your heart, at his sight.

It must feel good to be able to zone out this much doing something you loved and were good at.

Only after he'd repeated the chorus did you notice what he was playing - the melody that had initially drawn you in and led you to the table outside.

Your heart in your chest grew with every beat, until it felt like it pressed against your ribcage from the inside.

Yoongi slowed down, the notes came a little wider apart, and then he let the last chord ring out. Fingertips still resting on the keys, you looked between them, waiting if he'd play another song.

When he slid them down on his pants it became clear he didn't intend to.

Silence enveloped you.

"That's my favourite song. That one. I only found you because of it."

Your eyes went back to his face and caught him already looking. His eyebrows drew together.

He tapped the little square and the program stopped recording.

"Now you ruined the first ever song I played for the record, idiot."

You scoffed.

"I only spoke up after it was all done, you can easily cut that out, genius."

He huffed and you rolled your eyes.

"Not everything has to be perfect first try. Thought someone like you would know that."

He just shook his head, still frowning.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'll keep quiet now." Thinking he was honestly upset, you apologized, hoping it'd sooth his temper.

But it didn't seem to be the right call as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders rolling forward.

"Just… Nevermind."

"Do you want me to get out of your hair?"

Your butt had already lifted from the chair when his reply came, mumbled through his hands.

"No."

You sat back down.

Dark eyes glinted at you through his fingers, then he combed through his hair and pushed it back from his face.

It was the first time you could really see his eyebrows well, and the expanse of his forehead.

You'd known he had one, of course, but seeing it was something else.

He woke the tablet again and started a new recording.

You smiled.

You didn’t get any work done that afternoon, but then again listening to a fraction of the repertoire that Yoongi had to offer was phenomenal compensation.

Still he looked a bit rueful, standing next to your desk while you packed your stuff, the iPad with its closed cover and Mic securely stored in the small bag over his shoulder.

“Sorry I… Kept you from your studying.”

You looked up while zipping your pencil case shut.

“It’s okay. Think I needed that, anyways. A break from all those words. It’s me who should thank you, really.”

He wrinkled his nose and kicked at a speck of dust, following you out the room once you were done.

“Still. Can I… Do you want a ride home? I know you missed the bus you usually take.”

“You’d do that?”

“It’s the least, really…”

A smile spread on your face. “Who am I to say no to such a gracious offer, why yes, thank you Yoongi.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” He grumbled, pushing ahead with a frown on his features.

"Play for me, Min, please." You sat next to him on the stool, hands underneath your thighs and gaze swimming from exhaustion.

Yoongi's shoulder softly bumped into yours as he repositioned himself.

"You okay."

"Yeah. Just. Please play."

"Alright." He looked at the keys, fingers caressing them but not pressing down hard enough to evoke the notes. "Anything in particular?"

"Can you play my favourite piece?"

His eyes stayed on yours and you grew almost uncomfortable by their scrutiny.

And then he blinked and turned back towards the keys, rolling his wrists once and setting his fingers down.

"As you wish."

As he played you watched his fingers move, trying to lean away whenever he came near you to avoid bumping into his arm. His skin looked healthier now, now that the temperatures were rising again and there were no angry, painful red cracks lining the back of his hands anymore.

It was like his body had its own gravitational field, drawing you in.

When he ended, your side was leaned against his, your heavy head teetering on the edge just before dropping to his shoulder.

The arm he wrapped around you would have come as a surprise, eliciting at least a twitch out of you, had you been a little more coherent.

As it was, your body sighed and curled into his, head tucked into his shoulder, while his hand pulled you closer by your side.

"Long day."

It wasn't a question, but you understood the offer he was making.

"Yeah." You sighed, the hoodie-clad shoulder pleasantly soft under your cheek. "Finals will kick my ass. Didn't want to do an all-nighter ever again but got peer-pressured into it anyways… Sucks."

Yoongi hummed, playing this and that note with the free hand.

"Didn't peg you for someone giving into that kind of thing."

You grumbled.

The impending doom of the next test hung low over your head, and still you couldn’t peel away from your spot next to Yoongi, wedged on the chair, with his arm around you. Didn’t want to. Felt like maybe if you’d made an attempt to get up, he might even have pulled you down again.

"Want me to drive you home?" He mumbled, an indefinite amount of time later.

"You're really nice today. Or is that just me being tired."

He chuckled, and you felt his cheek come to rest against your head.

"Don't tell anyone, okay."

"Okay."

You adjusted in your spot and snaked both of your arms around his torso.

He didn't flinch.

It was quiet for a moment.

"Hm?"

He hummed.

"What?" You lifted your head. He glanced at you from the corners of his eyes.

"Didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"If you want me to drive you home."

He jostled your shoulder.

You debated it for a moment.

"Alright. Yeah, okay.”

You put a hand to his shoulder that quickly morphed from a gentle pat into holding on for support as your quick standing up led to some instability in your legs.

He looked up at you.

"Okay then. Let's go." You repeated.

It was like the world was wrapped in cotton.

It was silent in the car. The radio didn't look broken, but Yoongi slapped your hand away as you wanted to poke it and see if you could turn it on.

"Nu-uh. No touchy." His eyes never strayed from the street.

"Next one left." You informed him, pouting.

"I know." He said.

Your hand was on the handle even before his shabby car rolled to a stop in front of your place.

It was unusually warm for the month, and you’d rolled the window on the passenger side down to breathe in the mellow spring breeze.

Now outside, you leaned your arms through it.

A grin spread on your face.

"Say, isn't it weird that you know where I live and I still haven't gotten your number?"

A rare, gummy smile appeared on his face, slowly.

"Please?" You jutted out your bottom lip.

"...Fine." He reached into the back, patting his jacket down.

He pulled his phone out of one of the pockets, handing it to you after unlocking it.

"'Musical Genius #1 Fan’?" He read out the contact name you’d given yourself. He glared at you.

You shrugged.

"If you don't like it, change it, genius."

He snorted and gripped the steering wheel tighter with his left hand.

The world was beginning to get very fuzzy beyond a two step radius around you, and you took that as a sign you should definitely head into your room now.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“Always.” He smiled again, his usual, small one.

You patted the hood of his car twice after leaning back.

Texting Yoongi was almost alarmingly normal.

Despite the fantastical circumstances of meeting him, you found he was very much engaged in normal life on campus, too. Occasionally.

He wasn’t much for the polite small talk to start a day, rather than just sending a text saying ‘There’s a lizard by the parking lot and ppl r clogging the way, will be late’ first thing.

You hadn’t believed him when he’d said he wasn’t much into memes, but send him a couple vine compilations anyways.

By now he was fully fluent in both them and most current memes floating around, further adding to you not really believing he hadn’t had a speck of an idea before.

The definite end of the semester came into view, but it meant every final was crammed into the space between then and now, which resulted in more studying and less listening to Yoongi playing. 

You were brushing teeth one evening when your phone’s screen lit up with an incoming video call from him.

Placing it on a slightly elevated spot inside the small cabinet above the sink, you accepted it.

“...Oh wow look at that, who is that raccoon?”

Your reply telling him to fuck off came warbled by the white foam spilling over your chin. He smiled, wide and easy.

“Wanted to ask what you were up to this evening but I guess I don’t have to anymore, huh.”

You cleared your mouth and dabbed a towel around it afterwards.

“Not really. I’m super tired, so I think I’ll just go to bed, honestly. Did you want to do something? In that case I’m sorry, but no.”

He rolled around, and only then did you see he was in bed, with the covers drawn up already and all.

“Uhh, no… Just wanted to check in. But now that you mention it… How about some music to help you relax?”

You took him from his spot on the shelf and flicked the light off before moving into your bedroom.

“I think I have enough music here, thanks…” Distracted by the device, you almost forgot to take your refilled water bottle. When you looked at the screen next, you could see Yoongi with his arms on his keyboard, phone propped up in a way that allowed you to look down the length of the keys. He was pouting.

“Not even a personalized little concert?”

You sat back on your bed and smiled at the screen.

“Okay. Just this once. And only because it’s you.”

“Yes!” He punched the air and grinned down at the camera. Lying on your side with the screen being the only thing illuminating the room, you watched and listened to him play, allowing yourself to breathe slowly and let go of the troubles that were plaguing you during the day.

You were almost gone, eyelids heavy and grasp on your phone slipping, when Yoongi picked his own device up.

“Sleep well.” He mumbled.

You hummed in response, eyes shut.

It was the last day of school before the semester ended. Technically it had ended already; The clock on the wall read something around two in the evening, and in any other case you’d be furious as to why you were still stuck here. As it was, you were sat next to Yoongi once more, in front of the piano, one last time before the break.

The window was wide open, letting in the chirps of birds and rustling of leaves.

"I'm not so good. With words." He looked up after a moment, the tips of this pointer and middle finger gently running up and down a crack between the keys.

The world outside was sunny and looked much warmer than it was, but in here, out of direct sunshine, it was still cool. Yoongi’s body next to yours was the only source of immediate warmth in the almost clammy air.

"I can speak better through the music. I think that's why… I think that's why you say my songs are expressive." His voice died down, but his eyes, glued to yours, won in intensity.

Even this close up you couldn’t tell where his iris ended and his pupil began. "Sometimes I wish I could be better with words. At least a little bit."

He looked down, where your hand lay on your thigh, with the fingers curled in and under the palm, to prevent from reaching out and touching the piano while he was playing it. Touching the piano or him.

With bated breath you watched him move, slip his hand from the keys, to then, lightly, as if you'd break at the slightest of pressure, cover yours.

Not taking your eyes off the palms, you turned your own around until you could slip your fingers between his.

You heard him swallow thickly when you squeezed your conjoined hands. Were acutely aware of how his thigh felt pressed against yours, him next to you.

Your eyes met again, but not for long. He looked away again, oddly reminding you of the first times you’d seen each other; him unable to look at your for longer than a second.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip before his teeth got a hold of it and he stared down on the piano. When you readjusted in your spot his fingers flexed and squeezed your palm, as if to prevent you from letting go. You saw his jaw ticking as he continued to avoid your eyes, the way his eyebrows furrowed, a tell-tale sign for the inner turmoil.

“Sometimes you don’t have to say much, you know. Sometimes… Sometimes I think I understand you just like that.”

“Oh yeah?” It would’ve sounded condescending if you hadn’t been able to filter out the self-deprecating downtilt of his words by now.

He glanced up at you before shuffling in his spot, twisting as best as he managed to be able to look at you without getting up. His knee dug into the dent in your leg just above your own, but you ignored the slight discomfort.

He lifted your joined hands briefly, letting them fall on his own thigh before his whole body calmed down and his eyes finally steadied on yours.

“Tell me, then. What am I trying to say?”

You let your eyes rise from his, into the mussed hair, to the one strand that was still sticking up from where he’d exasperated ran his hand against the growth earlier.

His eyebrows were still furrowed minimally, and only under your watchful gaze did he stop chewing on the inside of his cheek.

For several minutes you looked him over, observed the uneven rise and fall of his chest, in that old black shirt - it span over his chest now, its fit almost snug when it had been loose before. He’d really filled it out.

Eventually you sandwiched his hand between the both of yours, looking down on his fingers between yours.

“I have no idea.”

It was the truth. No matter how hard you looked, no matter how many clues you believed to see, it was impossible to tell just where his mind had taken him this time.

He swallowed and looked down, nodding once.

“Right. A-”

“If-” You interrupted him, looking up through your lashes. His shoulders were still rising along with his breathing, but now you had his undivided attention. “-you’re going to say something mean now, against you or me, don’t. Please.”

He bit on his lip and ducked his head to the side, obviously displeased.

“See?” He leaned back, balling his free hand into a fist. “You can do it after all! Somehow you got into my head. Don’t do that.”

“So?” You ignored the interruption, tone having shifted in the slightest. “Tell me. What...?

Two heavy breaths in which he kept squinting at you, attempted to speak up and then averted his gaze again.

When his eyes came back down from the ceiling his hold on your hand tightened.

“A hug.”

You were sure, if you hadn’t been holding his hand, he would’ve backed off as soon as the words had left his lips. But he couldn’t and so he stayed in the same spot, leaned back as far as he could, blinking and looking at you like you would start smacking him any moment.

“Please.” He added, and it had been almost too quiet to hear.

With only a nod as an answer, he relaxed a little, but the tension wouldn’t leave his shoulders.

“Here?” You asked, and he nodded, eyes flitting around. His left leg started jiggling, but before the nervosity could take more hold on him you disentangled your hands and opened your arms. He hesitated a moment longer but you didn’t rush him, waited, let him take his time. Let him come to you.

And he did.

With slow, careful hands that touched the lower part of your ribs cautiously before they slid around to your back, one upwards between your shoulder blades, the other down to the small of your back.

It was like someone that had been starved of water being allowed near a clean river - someone that had been deprived for so long that the madness of thirst had subsided into tired resignation already. When faced with the thing he’d been hungering for most, he didn’t run in blindly and submerged himself at once.

It was more like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to, was able to touch you sat next to him, that you let him close his arms around you.

His chin bumped into your collarbone as you lifted your own arms a little to lay them over his shoulders and hug him back, and he whispered a small “Sorry” before his head nestled into place next to yours.

He had to bend down and you stretched up a bit, and for the first moment you felt how uncomfortable he seemed with everything.

With a single, long sigh, he relaxed.

Gave into the hug, completely, and without holding back anymore.

Every breath he took you felt, were made aware how he drew his breath in several steps, as if he didn’t possess the strength to do it at once.

There was no more room between you but you felt his hold tighten, drawing you in closer.

This wasn’t a quick hello-or-goodbye hug, and it wasn’t a bear-hug, either. It was something entirely new and yet you felt incredibly safe.

There was no clock anywhere in sight and you closed your eyes.

Minutes passed. Eventually the desperateness fled his system, and then you were just holding the other.

At half past four, the bell rang again.

The sound drifted over the campus and reached you just as you entered the deserted lot, where only Yoongi’s shabby car still stood, under the trees, half hidden by bushes.

His thumb slid over the back of your hand as he lightly tugged on your connection.

“Can I come visit your place?” You asked, once you’d sat down. He’d been to your tiny flat a few times now, but had never asked if you would like to see his.

“Are you sure?” He turned the key and glanced at you before backing out of the spot.

“Of course! I want to see the musical genius’ living space. Pretty please.”

“Don’t remind me of that dumb nickname…” He groaned, and you laughed, turning the radio up and the window down.

Warm air came rushing in, and together with the upbeat song currently playing, it felt a lot like a scene from a movie.

For the first time in weeks you felt fully free. Able to smile at the wind touching your face, knowing Yoongi was there with you.

You sat on his couch together, scrolling your phones aimlessly after thoroughly inspecting his space.

The pizza he ordered in the evening was fluffy and sated your hunger, and afterwards you were too tired to move much.

“I think… I’ll just stay here.” You gesticulated around the room, stretching and placing your legs across his lap.

He wiped his hands clean of the last grease and tugged on your shins.

“Here? You sure? I can always-”

He pressed a hand against his mouth and burped. Afterwards he groaned and fell back against the backrest.

“No, you’ll have to stay. There’s no way I’m leaving this flat again today.”

You grinned and made grabby hands for the pack of cherry gummies.

Your head was buzzing with how late it was, and how tired you’d become.

With teeth brushed, the sweet taste of cherries was long gone, but in the dark of the room, it wasn’t unwelcome.

Yoongi was lying just a little away from you, head half buried in one of his many pillows.

“Is this weird?” He asked. You heard his palm slipping over the mattress, before his fingertips touched your arm and he momentarily pulled back.

Until you put your hand out, and he curled his pinky around yours.

“Hm?”

You asked.

“I mean this… We… We’re not…” He trailed off, his other hand covering yours as he rolled over. In the darkness you could only make out his eyes by the reflection of what little light there still was, in them. “Other people our age have been partying since noon, and we…”

“Is that bad?” You asked, turning on your side to fully face him.

“No, don’t think so.”

“Do you want it, any other way?”

He shook his head.

“I just wonder… Jin asked me if we were dating the other day. I didn’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel like we are, but I also… don’t feel like we’re not doing that. It. Something. I mean we’re not doing that, either, which I never thought about, and-”

He huffed. “It feels weird, to lie here, with you, and not do anything. But I’m glad. About it. In a way.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Then that’s enough for us. Isn’t it?”

He hummed, and slowly leaned his forehead against your joined hands.

Your phone binged with an incoming message from Yoongi.

It was two weeks into the break, and after staying over at his place, you hadn’t heard or seen too much of him.

His message read 'I uploaded it.', and a link to Spotify.

You clicked on it.

A playlist opened, and you bit on your lip at the name - He'd titled it 'Your Playlist'.

While you cleaned out your notes and organized your room, you listened.

It was a mix of his self-composed piano pieces, acoustic, or electric, with mixed other instruments and occasionally his voice.

The melodies came easy and wound their way in your ears, and it brought a smile to your face at the warmth you felt at their sound.

The last one was titled “My Favourite”.

You watched as the song’s covers changed, and sat back on your rug.

What unfolded in front of your ears was different than the rest - it was a blend of sounds, playing to support your favourite song of his, but a remix version. The beat slowly wound up higher, coming faster, until it dropped - to your voice, filtered and a little tuned, to fit the short space.

‘My favourite’, you heard yourself say, and then the whisper of Yoongi’s voice answered, ‘Just for you’, and you bit down on your lip.

He sung and rapped more, and you needed at least five listens before you’d caught it all.

‘Can I come over?’ You texted him, burning with energy and the deeply rooted wish to see him.

‘ofc’ came his answer, and you were out of the door.

Not much later, halfway across town, you hugged your arms around him as tight as you could, smiling so wide it had your cheeks hurting, and yet not able to keep the tears escaping your eyes.

“I love you, too.” You mumbled into his shoulder, feeling him tense a little.

“I’m so glad you understood.” He whispered, and leaned his head against yours. “I’m so glad you understand. Me. I’m so glad you. Found me.”

notes: for alex, who i send an ask wondering if she might know how to title a story i was writing and if she'd ever heard of this weirdly specific song i could not name? and then told me i should check out this song (the title of this fic) - which ended up being the very one i'd been searching for for four days. thank you.

[goddesswritings]

home with you - Stiles Stilinksi | everything i wanted

Title: home with you – Part One

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Summary: Lydia Martin has a cousin. She’s Y/n. She moved in with Lydia and her mother two years ago after tragedy struck in her life. She met Stiles and Scott, and the two boys basically saved her. She developed a crush on Stiles through this, despite him having a crush on her beautiful cousin. People start going missing in Beacon Hills, and Y/n is forced to face her feelings and her ability to save the people she loves.

Word Count: 6.8k

Notes: Finding a title that fit this story was a bit of a task, but I think ‘home with you’ by FKA twigs is pretty fitting in a way for the feelings I have for this story.

This story is based on season 6A of Teen Wolf. It took me three years to finally finish Teen Wolf and season 6A was definitely a favorite of mine. The character development of everyone was just wow. So here we have a Stiles and Reader fic, because this idea hit me. Enjoy. More Stiles fics to come!

Masterlist

********

“Lydia, don’t say that.” You said to your cousin as she picked at her nails.

“What, I thought Stiles would have moved on by now. It’s been what, 4 years?” She popped her gum as she lounged back on her bed. “Aiden and I have been together for a while now, he does know I’m not breaking up with him, right?”

“I’m sure he does, Lyds. Just don’t antagonize him. He can’t help who he likes.” You would much rather not be talking about Stiles’ crush on your cousin with her, but she brought it up when Aiden mentioned that he thought Stiles was still into her.

You sighed and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. This whole thing was not fun to talk about. You hated the way she treated Stiles, yet he still loved her. Two years ago, you moved in with Lydia and her mom after your parents were killed in a freak accident. You and Lydia had always gotten along, but she was definitely not the nicest person. But she’s been getting better.

“Oh I know, why don’t I set him up with someone? That will help him move on, right?” She raised her eyebrows as she grabbed her phone from the table. She started browsing it.

Your heart perked up, hoping she would realize you were the perfect person to set him up with. But she ignored you.

“Stella is a good choice. Wait no, she’s into James. Oh maybe Ellie, oh she’s perfect! Her hair is identical to mine.”

“Except for the fact that Ellie plays for the other team.” You mumbled.

“Wait, she does? I never knew that.”

“Yeah, at that party at Derek’s last year, she was all over that chick from Econ. Hailey I think.”

Lydia sighed and put her phone down. “Well then I don’t know what to do. He needs to move on, like now. I can’t have him stuck on me like this. We’re seniors and I don’t want him following Aiden and I around in school.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved from her bed. “I will talk to him, Lydia. You don’t have to worry.”

Her eyes lit up, “Perfect Y/n! Now I’m meeting Aiden for a late-night talk. Can you cover for me, with my mom?”

“Of course.” You left her room and headed down the hall to yours. It was nice that Natalie Martin took you in, but sometimes Lydia took advantage of you.

A message came through your phone. It was Scott.

Stiles and I have a kid at the station. He’s terrified and we have no clue who his parents are, we need you and Lydia.

Of course she was already gone.

I can help, but Lydia just left with Aiden. I’m the best you got.

Scott and Stiles became good friends with you when you moved to Beacon Hills. Almost immediately you fell for the quirky boy who had way too much energy. He was funny and sweet to you. When you moved, you’d fallen into a depression but somehow him and Scott got you out of it. Especially since they vowed to find out what happened to your parents.

With the help of Sheriff Stilinski, you did find out what happened to your parents. Not that you wanted to remember it right now.

Stiles will be there in 5.

Okay!

You rushed around your room, pulling off the sweatpants you had been wearing and pulling on some jeans. You got one leg in and lost your balance and fell to the ground. Chuckling, you pulled the pants on and searched for shoes to wear. Finally you had finished dressing when you saw Roscoe pull into the driveway. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you were off. Natalie was nowhere to be found, so you didn’t have to convince her to let you go.

Stiles smiled when you hopped into the jeep. “Well hello, little Martin.” He stated with his signature smile.

“I’m the same age as Lydia and you know this.” You quipped as you clicked the seatbelt in.

“Of course, I know this. I’m just joking with you. I only say it because you’re shorter than me and Scott.” He patted your thigh. “We love you regardless.”

Shaking your head, Stiles backed out of the driveway and headed towards the station.

“Damn, I wish I had a growth spurt.” You mumble making Stiles laugh.

“No Y/n, you’re perfect the way you are. Trust me. You don’t need to be taller or anything like that.”

The words warmed your heart. This is why you had a massive crush on him. He was the sweetest man alive.

“Well that was as sweet as pie, Stiles. Now tell me what to expect with this kid?”

Stiles was now in detective mode. You loved how passionate he was about all of this. He had amazing skills that made him valuable to Scott’s pack, despite being human. You on the other hand, felt very useless to the pack. Your cousin was a Banshee, Scott was a werewolf, Malia was a Coyote, and well Stiles was gifted with his detective skills as well as being smart as hell. You were just a human with no special skills to help them. You always did your best when these things happened, but you just weren’t all that useful to them.

“Liam and Hayden found this kid in a car alone. He was mumbling about needing to find his parents, but my dad has no record of them or the kid. We are all simply confused. He was also mumbling about these men who came out of nowhere on horses and stole his parents.” Stiles explained as he stopped at a red light.

“Interesting. What does your dad think?” You asked when you watched the light turn green.

“He thinks he just ran away from home and found an abandoned car to hot wire.” Stiles was not happy with that answer.

“How old is the kid?”

“12 apparently.”

“Okay, what twelve-year-old can hotwire a car? Who’s the car belong to?” Everything was not adding up.

“The car wasn’t registered to anyone. It had no plates. But the windshield was smashed off. The kid said the men on horses shot the car.”

“That doesn’t sound like a runaway kid to me.”

“Same. Scott is not sure what he thinks.”

You put your hand on Stiles’. “What do you think happened?”

He sighed. “I think it was supernatural of course. I’m not sure what, but I feel it in my bones that he didn’t just run away from home. They don’t even have record of this kid.”

“Well then we will find out what it is, won’t we?”

“You want to help?”

“Of course I do, Stiles. You’re my best friend and I believe you when you have a feeling about these things.” Also your feelings for him, made you believe him even more.

The two of you pulled into the station and he led you from the car. Sheriff Stilinski was in his office with Scott and a kid who looked scared and confused.

“I just want to find my parents.” He cried as Sheriff Stilinski looked on in helplessness.

“How do we find his parents if he’s not even in the database?” He asked Scott in a whisper.

Scott looked pensive before a thought hit him. “Well I could use my claws?”

You shook your head. “Scott no, that’s a horrible idea. That will hurt him!”

The kid spoke up. “I will do anything. I just want to find my parents.” You all exchanged looks, unsure of how to precede. Did Scott really want to use his claws on this kid to get answers?

“It’s going to hurt. Are you sure?” He asked him.

“I am. I need to know where my parents are.” He whined, tears clouding his eyes.

“Okay, we have to do this.” Scott looked to Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles, and I.

Stiles’ dad sighed and shut the door, locking it. Then he lowered all the curtains to his office. You stepped back, knowing it would hurt him. Stiles stepped up beside you and took your hand in his. You turned and buried your head into his chest as Scott buried his claws into the neck of this kid. He screamed in agony as Scott delved into his memories. Stiles wrapped his arms around you, blocking out some of the sound.

It all stopped, and Scott fell away from the boy. Stiles loosened his grip and you turned to see a highly confused Scott. The kid was passed out now.

“What did you see?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing. There are no memories of his parents at all. Just him. His name is Alex.” He mumbled, walking away from him.

“How is there no memories of his parents?” Sheriff Stilinski was so confused.

“That’s what I want to know.” You were all left in a state of confusion. Sheriff talked about how he would be keeping Alex at the station until they could locate his parents. Stiles, Scott, and you exited the station.

“We should go look at his house. You did see his house, right?” Stiles said as you three stopped by the jeep.

“I did. I know where it’s at.” Scott stated.

“Then why don’t we go check it out?” He suggested with hope in his eyes.

“Tomorrow we will go. It’s getting late and we have school in the morning.” Scott told him.

“Okay, that’s fine. Let me know if you remember anything else?”

Scott smiled and put on his motorcycle helmet. “Will do. Good luck!” He told him before riding off.

You were confused. “Good luck with what?” You asked as Stiles led you to the car. You hopped in.

“Oh it’s nothing. Can we, uh, go somewhere to talk?” He was suddenly nervous.

“Sure. I’m positive Lydia isn’t home yet and well I didn’t see her mom, so she’s also probably on a date.”

“Good, let’s go.” He started up the jeep and drove off without another word. He was silent as you both drove along with quiet streets of Beacon Hills. Your mind went to what Lydia asked you to do, and your chest tightened with nerves.

Stiles parked the jeep on the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve. He shut the car off.

“So I actually needed to talk to you about something.” You said knowing you had to do it now or never.

“Sure, go ahead. I have something to say too.” He said with his cute little smile.

You smiled back but felt like bolting from the jeep. You couldn’t believe Lydia was making you do this. “So I was talking to Lydia and she mentioned that she still thinks you have a crush on her. Do you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” He answered while watching you closely.

“Okay, she said her, and Aiden were talking, and she didn’t like that you still crushed on her. She was rambling on about how she didn’t want you to spend Senior year following her around, especially now that you and Malia are over.”

“That’s good because I have a crush on someone else.”

You barely registered what he said as you continued on. “And I know it sounds mean when she says this. I even told her she couldn’t say that because you are so sweet and don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Of course.”

“I’m so sorry Stiles, I didn’t want to be the one to say it. But she wants to set you up with someone else, and I said it was a horrible idea because I hate when people set you up with others.”

“Mmm hmmm.” He mumbled as he watched you ramble. He loved when you got like this. You were just so dang cute when you rambled without really understanding what the other person was saying.

“Because I think we should be able to choose who we date on our own without being set up.” You stopped when you realized something he’d said. “Wait, did you say you have a crush on someone else?”

Stiles started laughing. “I was wondering when you would catch that. Yes I did, and yes I do have a crush on someone else. Someone who’s beautiful and loyal and just downright adorable all the time. Someone I should have seen ages ago.”

Inside, your heart ached. “Who is she?”

He shook his head. “Well I think you know her, she’s in all my classes.”

Your brain went into overdrive, thinking about all the girls you and Stiles shared class with. There was only a handful that were in all your classes. “Melanie?”

Once again he was laughing. “No. Y/n, it’s you.”

The world stopped. You looked up at the dark-haired boy in front of you. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he watched you with curiosity.

You point to him. “You like me?” Then you pointed at yourself.

“I do. Ever since the Chimera stuff, as well as me and Malia drifting apart. I realized I had the perfect girl in front of me. Who is more perfect than she realized.”

“But I’m not Lydia. At all.”

“I don’t want you to be Lydia. My crush on Lydia was infatuation for someone I thought I knew. But she’s been pretty keen on ignoring me for years, despite us now being in the same friend group. After the Nogitsune, I started thinking about why I liked her and realized all my reasons for liking her, didn’t make sense. I think I just wanted her because I couldn’t have her. Does that make sense?”

“It does. But you really like me?”

“I do, a lot.”

Smiling, you leaned forward and kissed him. “I like you too, Stiles. A lot. I have since I moved here.”

He smiled and pulled you into another kiss. Stiles was happy he finally admitted his feelings to you. He’d known you had some sort of feelings for him but because of Lydia, you never said a thing. He knew he was truly over Lydia.

“Then will you let me take you on a date?” Stiles asked with hope in his beautiful amber colored eyes.

“Yes, oh my god, I would love that!” You wrapped your arms around his lean body, and he reciprocated the movement. His arms pulled you close as you leaned over the console of his car, where he kept his police scanner.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. His lips were hot against yours. You leaned into the kiss until the console got to be too much. Stiles pulled away and motioned to the back of the car. You nodded before hopping over the console with Stiles hot on your heels.

His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you close once again. His lips found yours in another searing kiss. You’d wanted this for so long, that you simply melted into his kiss. Stiles licked your lips to get you to open up, and you did. His tongue was quick to find yours. Your mouths meshed together in the most perfect way.

Stiles’ hands wondered your body over your clothes, increasing your excitement. The way your bodies fit together, was truly a magical feeling. The kisses had your head swimming while he caressed you in the sweetest way.

You took a hold of the situation and rolled the two of you, until you were on top of Stiles. Your lips left his and started sucking on his neck. Stiles moaned when you found the spot on his neck that had his body feeling alive. He pushed up against you, allowing you to feel the forming bulge in his jeans.

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss and this time, your hands were the ones exploring his body. You felt every muscle in his body as your hands trailed it like he’d done with you. Stiles’ hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place so he could still have some sort of control over you. But you had your own plans up your sleeve, and you pressed yourself into the bulge that was pushing up into you.

“Oh shit.” He moaned as you did that. He was not expecting that at all. “My dirty girl is taking control, huh?” He groaned as you rubbed yourself on him. Your pussy was soaked at this point and the friction of you rubbing against him, was sending you on a trip.

“I am.” You whispered as you ground down again.

“Fuck, you’re making it hard to take this slow.” Stiles’ grip had tightened on your waist. He was trying to stop you from grinding yourself down on him again.

“What if I don’t want to go slow?” You’d pulled away to study his face. You counted the moles on his face, dying to kiss him again, so you pushed forward to do just that.

He lightly pulled away. “As much as I love that, I would hate myself if we did that. I want to do this right. I want to take you out and show you the world.”

You bit your lip as you thrust your hips down again. A steady pressure was building in your core, and you were so ready for it to burst.

“Y/n, gosh you’re so fucking sexy.” He let go of his inhibitions and pulled your lips back to his. His hands were now exploring your body again, while yours wrapped around the back of his neck. He pushed himself up against your needy core, causing the sexiest moans to fall from your mouth.

“Please Stiles, I need you.” You moaned when one of his hands grabbed a breast and palmed it.

His lips were hot against your skin. “I need you too, shit.” His head fell back as your core connected with his hard cock. He was so ready to release it and plunge into your needy little pussy.

“Then have me, Stiles, I don’t want to wait. I have wanted this for so long and I want this now.” Despite everything, you wanted to feel him, and you wanted him to fuck you right here and now.

“Yes, I would love that.” He flipped you over, so you were beneath him. Then he leaned over the seats to grab a condom from the glove compartment. He pulled you into another erotic kiss when a cellphone went off. Your cellphone.

“Awe fuck.” You mumbled as you leaned over the seats to grab your phone. It was Natalie.

“Hello.” You asked into the phone.

“Where are you, Y/n. Lydia said you were in your room but you’re not. It’s nearly 12:30.” She kept her voice level as she asked. She was never too strict with you. Not after what happened with your parents.

You mouthed that it was Natalie to Stiles.

“Scott and Stiles needed me for some research for school. We lost track of time.” You said quickly as Stiles frowned.

“Okay, well you need to come home. You have school in the morning.” She stated, not sounding mad.

“I will be right there. Thank you Aunt Natalie.” You hung up the phone.

Stiles dropped the condom in defeat. “No sex, huh?”

“I’m sorry Stiles. I think we really lost track of time.” You kissed his cheek and jumped back into the passenger seat. Stiles followed behind and started the car.

“Well it’s probably for the best. I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to take my time with you. You just distracted me with your charms.” His eyes traveled the length of your body. Your face heated up when he did this.

“Alright, I agree. We did move a little fast. I just lost myself when I was kissing you.”

“I know the feeling. Now, let’s get you home. I don’t need Natalie on my case for keeping her niece out all hours of the night.”

“That ship has sailed. But she likes you anyway. Especially after what you and Scott did for me when I moved here.” You smiled in his direction.

He smiled back and put a hand on your thigh as he drove through Beacon Hills towards the house you lived in with the Martin’s. He didn’t move his hand at all, not until he pulled into the driveway.

“I had fun, Stiles. I can’t believe you like me.” Never in the world would you have expected the night to turn out this way.

“Well believe it, babe. I’m all yours. Now I will see you at school tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss you sweetly. Not letting this kiss grow out of control.  

“Yes, I will see you tomorrow.” You left the jeep and waved bye to him. He stayed in the driveway until you were safely in the house. You stood at the door and watched him leave. A huge smile was planted on your face as you did this.

“Damn, what has you so smiley?” A voice cut through your thoughts. Shutting the door, you found Lydia sitting on the couch watching you.

“I had fun with Scott and Stiles.” You stated, trying to not let her know you had just been making out with Stiles Stilinski in the back of his jeep.

“Sure, that’s totally why you’re smiling. I know you better than that. Who’s the lucky guy?” She stood from the couch and crossed the room to stop in front of you.

“Guy? There’s no guy.” You mumbled, looking away from her.

“Y/n sweetie. Your neck is red like some guy was just sucking on it. Cut the bullshit and tell me who it is. I think I have an idea. But please, do spill.” She smirked as she watched you.

“Uh, it was a friend.” Why couldn’t you just say who it was? It was not like she’d be upset.

She shook her head. “It was Stiles wasn’t it?”

“Um, maybe.”

“It was. He was the one who just dropped you off. Besides, I know you’ve had a crush on him.”

Wait, she knew? “How?”

“Y/n, we’ve been close since birth. I saw all the signs. Why do you think I told you to talk to Stiles tonight?”

“You said you wanted to set him up with someone.”

She laughed. “You, I wanted to set him up with you. I knew if I just nudged you towards him, you would admit your feelings for him. I’m happy he feels the same way.”

“Me too. So you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be? I wanted him to move on from me and you know I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Lydia. I really do like him. I never expected him to like me back though.” Not in the least. Not when your cousin was Lydia.

“How could he not? You’re beautiful Y/n.”

“Because he’s liked you forever.”

“Well it looks like he’s over it. Okay, time for bed. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” You nodded and the two of you went off to your rooms. A huge smile stayed on your face as you drifted to sleep.

**

You drove with Lydia to school, but you woke up to a ridiculously cute text from Stiles. It was still very unreal that he likes you the way he does. But you knew it was real. The proof was the hickey you had to cover when you woke up. Part of you wanted to leave it there, so people knew, but that was stupid to do.

I hope you slept well, my sweet girl. I was sorta up late when a theory hit me. I did some research; you know how it goes. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face at school. See you soon, gorgeous.

The text had you smiling the whole morning, which freaked Lydia out a little. You texted Stiles back, telling him you couldn’t wait to see him at school. Now that you had expressed your feelings, all you wanted, was to be in his presence.

You pulled up at school and spotted Roscoe in the parking lot, with Stiles leaning against it, with Scott not too far from him. Liam was there too, while Malia had just pulled up to school. Trying to hold in the excitement, you and Lydia joined the group.

Stiles didn’t even hesitate before taking your hand in his. Your group of friends eyed you curiously, but the two of you didn’t really notice at all.

“What’s going on with them?” Scott questioned as he watched the way you both looked at each other.

Lydia chuckled. “Somebody came home extremely late, after being out with Stiles last night. It’s safe to say, the two of them admitted their feelings to each other.” She told them.

“Finally!” Scott shouted, throwing a fist into the air. “It was becoming way too much to keep Stiles’ feelings from Y/n.”

Malia rolled her eyes and smacked Scott on the shoulder. “Knock it off. Stiles was just being Stiles. I knew he would do it eventually.”

You looked to your friends. “You knew he liked me?”

They all nodded, even Liam.

“Shit, he even showed me his feelings for you when we were dating. Stiles isn’t particularly good at hiding his feelings.” Malia stated, wrapping an arm around Scott. The two of them were becoming particularly close since Scott and Kira officially ended things a few months back.

“We also knew Y/n had a crush on Stiles. I mean, I’ve known since it started.” Scott laughed as your face heated up.

“I can’t say I knew about it until Scott told me recently.” Malia admitted.

Liam laughed. “I’ve known since I met you all.”

“Well that’s my cue to go find Aiden. He said he was here early to study.” Lydia waved goodbye before leaving the group.

The fact that all your friends knew that you and Stiles had something for each other but said nothing, was frustrating. “Now that I know my friends have been keeping things from me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” You said, trying to look serious.

They knew you better than that. “You love us, Y/n. Don’t lie.”

“Perhaps. But I am a little mad at you.”

Stiles chuckled. “No you’re not. You can never stay mad at them for long. They just wanted us to figure it out on our own.” Stiles stated while kissing your cheek.

“I know.” With that, the bell went off and you all headed into the school to go to first period, making plans to meet for lunch in the quad.

*

Lunch rolled around and the group met up in the quad like they said they would. Scott, Malia, Lydia, Aiden, Stiles, and you all sat around the tables. Lydia was particularly invested in Aiden as always.

Stiles was talking about going over to Alex’s house on his break, because the investigator in him couldn’t wait to get more evidence. Luckily, Scott convinced him to wait until after school, where he would be able to go. You were grateful because it would be safer to have Scott with you both.

They were going around taking pictures for the yearbook when they stopped at your table. You all huddled in for the picture. Stiles wrapped an arm around you and held you close as the picture was snapped. Everyone was happy to get a picture of the friend group.

Stiles was practically bouncing off the walls when school ended. You followed him and Scott to Roscoe, you jumped into the back and were all headed to Alex’s house. The closer you got, the more a deep feeling of dread built up in you. Something was up and you kind of didn’t want to know but you had to. Alex needed help.

The jeep pulled up in front of a dark blue house, the same one that Scott had seen when he delved into Alex’s memories. The three of you exited the jeep and headed up to the house. There was something up with it.

Scott led you and Stiles into the home and immediately the three of you were massively confused. It looked like a completely abandoned house. There was hardly any furniture, but the minimal furniture that was there, was dusty as hell.

“Are we sure this is the place you saw?” Stiles asked as he looked around the home.

“Yes, this is the right place.” Scott said as he touched a dining table that had a lone plate setting.

You were silent as you wandered the house. The three of you wandered up the stairs where you found Alex’s room. It was fully furnished, and looked clean and lived in, unlike the rest of the house.

“Oh what the hell is this?” Stiles sighed as we looked at the room.

“This doesn’t make sense. How the hell is the rest of the house empty, but his room is not?”

Scott was silent as he looked at Alex’s belongings. “I’m not sure. This is weird. Let’s see if we can find anything else.” He started to leave the room.

You were looking at the bulletin board when you noticed something odd. There was a picture of Alex, but he was alone, but it was clear there were other people that were supposed to be in the picture with him.

“Stiles, look at this.” He stepped up beside you and took the picture from you.

“Huh, that’s weird. It’s like the others in this picture were completely erased from it.”

“Right, this is not any normal disappearance. Especially since we don’t even know Alex’s parents names.” You flipped the photo, to see if he’d written anything on it, but it was blank.

Stiles stopped short. “Did you hear that?” He muttered as he looked towards the hallway.

Hearing nothing, you shook your head.

He was focused on the door though. “I heard a horse.”

Clearly, he wasn’t joking. You knew when Stiles was joking and right now he was completely silent.

“A horse? Stiles, we’re in a house. There can’t be a horse inside it.”

“Yeah well I hear one and it’s getting louder. Stay here.” He said as he headed for the door. The dread you felt earlier was back and more intense. You looked at the ground and spotted something peculiar. A dirty white bandana laid on the ground. Reaching for it, you saw a flash of a vision. It was some sort of creature on a horse, pointing a gun. You jerked from your thoughts when you heard Scott in the hallway. You rushed to the door.

“Are you okay, Stiles? What happened?” Scott asked as you saw Stiles on the ground. He looked absolutely terrified.

“I saw this ghost rider on a horse. He was coming at me. He was about to shoot me.” He rambled, clearly terrified by the ordeal. Your stomach dropped.

“Stiles, was the ghost rider wearing a handkerchief?” You questioned as Stiles finally pulled himself from the floor.

“No, he didn’t have one on. Why?”

“Because I just found this in Alex’s bedroom.” Holding up the dirty piece of fabric, the two guys studied it. Stiles grabbed it and examined it.

“Shit, let’s see if there is anything else in there.” Scott was quick to go back to the bedroom but stopped when he opened the door. There was no furniture in the room anymore.

“What the hell.” You mumbled, grabbing Stiles’ hand. For the moment, you forgot the vision you had when you touched the fabric Stiles was holding.

The guys were silent as they looked into the room. “We need to get out of here. We need to check on Alex.” All three of you left the house to head to the station. Stiles had handed you the handkerchief again and you studied it while he drove the three of you to the station.

Entering the building, something was very wrong. The cell where Alex had locked himself was empty. No one in the station had any recollection of the boy either. It was like he vanished into thin air, just like the furniture from his room.

“He was taken by the ghost riders.” Stiles said to you and Scott. You had headed back to Beacon Hills High for the Lacrosse scrimmage. Stiles and Scott were late, but coach didn’t really seem to notice.

“Hey, why are you wearing my jersey?” Stiles asked a random kid when he walked by in Stiles’ 24 jersey.

“Coach gave it to me at practice yesterday.” He said with a shrug before walking off.

“Huh, what the hell. Why would coach do that? Did he forget to tell me something?”

Scott shrugged. “Not sure man. Let’s head in to change for the scrimmage.” Scott left you and Stiles for the school. Stiles was looking after the guy who wore his jersey.

“Are you okay, Stiles?” You asked, jerking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, this is just weird.” You agreed and followed him into the school.

“Hey, I forgot some of my homework in my locker. I need to go grab that. I will meet you in a few.” You told Stiles as you both entered the school. His hand was locked in yours. He was on edge and you could feel it just by the way he held your hand. “Hey Stiles, take a deep breath. You’re going to give yourself a panic attack.” You whispered while putting a hand on his cheek.

He looked to you. “I’m okay.” He assured, kissing you before telling you to get your homework.

You nodded and walked away, feeling like something bad was about to happen. The vision popped back into your head as you walked towards your locker. Why and how did you get a vision? That shouldn’t be possible. At all.

Rummaging through your locker, you looked through your belongings to find the book you need for your homework. You stopped short when you felt someone behind you. You glanced back and saw no one at all. Shaking off the feeling, you found the book you needed and slipped it into your bag.

As you were headed back to Stiles, you saw him looking extremely distraught. You rushed back to him and took his hand in yours.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered making him look down at you.

“They don’t remember me.” He said with a frown.

“Who doesn’t remember you?”

“Your Aunt. Liam, Hayden, and Mason. My dad.” None of them remember me.” His voice was low. You felt the panic building.

“Shit, what’s happening?”

Stiles looked behind him. “They are here.” He gripped your hand tighter and pulled you out of the school.

“Who’s here?” You stopped when you heard the distinct sound of horses.

“The ghost riders. They are back.” He raced around. You could hear them, but you didn’t see them and that scared you.

“Where are they. I can hear them?” You jumped when you heard it from your left. Stiles led you away from them.

“You hear them?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” The two of you ran to his jeep and jumped in. He tried to start it, looking up every other second. When the jeep wouldn’t start. He gave up.

“Y/n listen to me. They are going to take me. This is what they do. They take people and make everyone forget they ever existed. I need you to help me. I need you to remember me.” He said, the panic increasing.

“What, no they can’t take you!”

“They are. Listen baby. I love you; I need you to remember me and help them find me. You have to do this for me.” He was now holding your hands in his.

“Please no, you can’t go. I just got you. I need you.” You whined, feeling tears dripping from your eyes. The sounds of the horses were loud, and you knew you were completely surrounded by them.

“I know, baby. I don’t want this. I need you to stay strong.” He wiped away some of the tears that streamed from your eyes.

“Don’t leave me Stiles. I love you. Please.” He was now crying too.

“I’m sorry baby. I don’t have a choice.” He grabbed your head and pulled you into one last passionate kiss before the door flung open and he was pulled from the jeep. “Remember me, Y/n!” Those were the last words you heard from Stiles before he was completely gone.

“Please no!” You yelled as he disappeared from existence. The tears flowed heavier down your cheeks as the weight of the situation hit you. Stiles was gone and you weren’t sure if he would come back.

Everything hurt. Your heart ached in your chest as you cried for Stiles. It was unreal that he had been taken from you. The two of you only just realized how much you liked each other and now he was gone. The biggest fear was that you would forget him. You didn’t want that.

Holding your hands to your chest, you cried for the boy you now knew you loved. He’d been a huge reason why you were still alive after losing your parents. He pulled you from the dark depression that threatened to claim you.

The two of you had danced around your feelings for way too long, but now it had been ripped out from under you.

“Stiles please, come back! I need you.” You mumbled as the tears never ceased falling.

You glanced in the backseat to see a jacket. Stiles’ jacket. You grabbed it and as you touched it, another vision popped into your head. It was Stiles, being thrown off the horse by one of the ghost riders. The vision was so quick that you couldn’t see where he was at. But it gave you a small sense of hope that you could see him again.

The tears still fell as you grappled with the weight of the heartbreak you felt. It was like losing your parents all over again. The world felt incomplete and you weren’t sure what to do.

The fear of forgetting Stiles, made you stay right in his car. Curled up in the back seats as you mourned his disappearance and prayed he would return to you.

At some point, you managed to drift to sleep but you were plagued by nightmares of the ghost riders, taking the ones you loved. Taking Stiles from you over and over again. It was about 3 am when you were awakened with a start.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, that scared you. You noticed you were in Stiles’ car alone. The disorientation from sleep, made you forget where Stiles was. But the weight of the loss hit you like a freight train.

The ringing was coming from outside the car. You pulled yourself up and jumped the seats to get out. The ringing was loud outside the door. A flash of gold caught your eye.

Bending down, you studied the gold object. It was an old-style pocket watch. You reached down to grab it. The ringing stopped once you held the strange object.

Opening the watch, you noted that the time was stopped at 8:43. The time Stiles had been cruelly ripped from the jeep by the invisible ghost riders.

You closed the watch and turned it over. There were initials on the back. ‘GD’.

“I think that belongs to me.” A voice startled you. You turned to find an unfamiliar man behind you.

“Who are you? What are you doing here so late?” You asked, taking a step back from him.

“I’m a teacher here, and I lost track of time because well it looks like I dropped my watch out here.” There was something unsettling about him. “I’m Mr. Douglas, one of the new teachers here.” He added.

“Okay.” You watched him closely.

“Can I have my watch back?” He eyed the gold piece in your hands.

“Oh yes, here.” You handed him the watch, hoping he would leave you alone.

“Thank you, darling.” He placed the watch in his pocket. “What are you doing out here so late anyway? Alone I might add.”

“I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Your heart constricted when you said that.

“Where is he?” A sick smirk entered his face. “I don’t see him around here, Y/n.”

Chills went through your body. You had never met this guy, so how the hell did he know your name.

“Uh, I have to go.” You quickly hopped back into the jeep and locked the doors. Mr. Douglas stood outside and watched you. The keys were still in the ignition, so you turned them and hoped the jeep would start. It did.

As quickly as you could, you raced away from the school in Stiles’ jeep Roscoe.

PART TWO >>

[corner-stories]

little thief

Calem. Serena. Chespin.

Swords. Ale. Medieval Times.

2882 words.

(ao3.)

For once in his life, Calem — Squire to the esteemed Sir Wikstrom and a potential Knight-to-be — could not do his job.

In his right hand was a dagger, an ornate tool that was far too beautiful to be wielded by a bastard like him. His fingers were grasped around it so tightly that the wire-wrapped handle was pushing deep lines into his skin.

In his left hand was the creature who had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle. It was barely a foot tall and had a brown body, its head was green and what appeared to be its ears looked rather spiky. Calem held it by the scruff of its neck while a blissful smile remained on its face, apparently unaware of what was going on around it. The cooks and servants called it a Chespin — in their eyes it was a vile little parasite that had snuck in from nature to feast on the Castle’s supply of cheese and grapes and oats. Once the head Chef caught the little vermin, he handed it to Sir Wikstrom’s Squire and told him to get rid of it like a good Knight-to-be would.

So there Calem stood, holding his Master’s dagger to the throat of a creature that was happily staring at him with the beadiest eyes he had ever seen.

Calem’s hand was shaking. His usual stoic facial expression was turning into a look of fear. His heart was beating fast like a warrior’s would before a battle. His breathing was exceedingly rough and uneven.

Moments passed and Calem came to a conclusion that would lead to the best outcome for him and the Chespin.

He sighed and put the dagger in the sheath on his belt. He then held the Chespin properly, letting it lean against his shoulder like it was a newborn babe. With a sigh, he walked out of one of the castle’s many many spare rooms and went into the hallway. As Calem weaved through the other servants and workers of Shabboneau Castle, the Chespin was wagging its tail in utter excitement.

As they walked, Calem asked the little thing if it had any idea on what was going on, as if he was speaking to a human and not the pester that had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle.

…

…

…

Calem took Chespin to the castle gardens, where it could at least roam free amongst the flora and fauna and perhaps play with the other creatures who lived there. As nice as the place was, King AZ seldom spent time outdoors, much preferring the company of his Court or a pitcher full of wine.

Calem grabbed an apple from one of the trees and gave it to Chespin. Knowing that the fruits were not deemed fresh enough for those of Royal blood, he was sure that neither him nor Chespin would face punishment for such an act.

“This should tide you through the day,” Calem said as he held the apple to Chespin’s mouth. The creature eyed the fruit curiously, giving it a few cautionary sniffs before taking a nibble. After tasting the morsel, Chespin grinned and looked at the apple in its paws, happily chewing on it like an emperor would to a lavish feast.

Calem grinned. “Probably tastes a lot better than table scraps.”

As Chespin ate, the young Squire took the creature to the farthest end of the castle gardens. There he set the little thing down. Once on the ground, Chespin dropped the core from its paws and looked up at Calem with curiosity in its inky black eyes.

Calem gave Chespin a polite nod, then began to walk away. He only took about two steps before hearing the creature prodding after him. He was quick to turn around and hold his hand out.

“No, you can’t come back with me. My Master would never allow it. Now shoo!”

Chespin seemed saddened, as if its entire world had shattered right then and there. Calem could not ignore the way Chespin looked at him, but knowing his orders he guessed that it would be the safer thing for both of them if they went their separate ways.

So firmly, Calem turned around once more and walked back towards Shabboneau Castle, doing his best not to think of the rather adorable creature that had somehow grown fond of him.

…

…

…

With a Tourney coming up, Calem was hard at work helping his Master get prepared. Being one of Kalos’s most esteemed knights, Sir Wikstrom prided himself on his prowess as a warrior. He needed to be in fighting shape to compete with the region’s much younger Knights, so five days a week he gave Calem a blunted longsword and ordered him to fight back, asking that the Squire never go easy on him.

In terms of swordsmanship, Calem still had a long way to go. He was much better than he was a year ago, when Sir Wikstrom decided to have a mere stable boy act as his Squire. Back then he swung the sword like it was a stick and he was a child playing make-believe, causing Sir Wikstrom to immediately leave him lying on his rear end in the midst of the castle courtyard. He would usually follow this up by saying Calem was better at sword sharpening than fighting.

But after months of practice, Calem was able to last longer in the one-on-one sparring duel against this master. Of course, Sir Wikstrom was able to win nine times out of ten, but Calem was capable of getting some clever strikes and thrusts in here and there.

As a result of the increased training schedule, Calem’s every muscle began to ache. Morning and night he felt the strain of his days in his arms and legs. He felt it even in the midst of the simplest tasks, such as shining shoes or fetching water and wine for his master.

Two days before the tourney Calem was in the castle courtyard. Despite his pain, he felt himself willing to power through it for the sake of some extra sword practice. With a blunted two-handed sword in his grasp, he unleashed his wrath upon a sparring dummy. Said target was propped upright and tarnished from years of practice, as much more qualified and skilled warriors had honed their craft on it. The strikes the mere Squire was giving out would probably do a fraction of the damage already done.

Although Calem preferred thrusts in the midst of sword fights, he was adamant that he practice his strikes and cuts as well. Even if thrusts were more effective to exploit the gaps in an opponent's armour, Calem did not want to neglect that area of combat. Knighthood may have been a mere dream to bastards like him, but he could at least try to aspire to the ranks of the highborns.

Calem was not alone when he practiced. Sitting on a stack of wooden crates was Serena — King AZ’s Royal Cup Bearer and yet another orphaned Kalosian bastard employed at Shabboneau Castle.

Unlike Serena, Calem had not grown up in a Lumiose children’s home before getting sold to the Castle. Instead he roamed the rocky streets of Ambrette Town in his youth after the loss of his parents — his unwed mother had worked in a tavern and died of an illness when he was young; he never knew his father, but it was fair to say that the man was one of the hundreds of soldiers who died in one of the Kalos-Galar conflicts. At this point there had been so many scuffles that it was hard to know which exact battle the man had perished in.

Calem came to the Castle when he was caught stealing bread from a merchant’s stand, having been given to the authorities and sent to work as Shabboneau’s Royal Stable Boy as punishment. Hopefully now he had atoned for his dreadfully benign sin of stealing a single bun, his Master certainly thought so before promoting him to Squire.

Serena was roughly his age — fifteen and somewhat gawky despite her youth. Her hair was the colour of honey and was often braided to be kept clean. When she was not enabling King AZ’s wine habit, she was exploring the gardens or spending time with Calem. He wasn’t sure if it was because she actually enjoyed his company (if so, then he would seriously begin to mistrust her judgement) or if because bastards and orphans often stuck together.

As Calem practiced his strikes on the dummy, Serena seemed keen on keeping her eyes on him. She had a cup of ale in one hand and in the other a palm-sized pie filled with onions and parsnips and mushrooms and turnips, which was one of the more luxurious foods that servants were permitted to eat. She took a sip of her drink, then asked Calem:

“Where is your Master now?”

Calem hit the head of the dummy, letting out a gravely grunt as his sword made contact. “He is bathing,” he answered without looking away.

Serena grinned cheekily. “And he didn’t need you to wipe his bum?”

Calem stopped swinging for a second to give her an unamused glare. Sometimes her wry humour took a bit of getting used to. “Evidently so,” he replied in the driest tone he could muster.

“What’s our esteemed King doing now?” he then asked, going back to hitting the dummy. “I thought he would need his Royal Cup Bearer at all hours of the day.”

“Our Majesty is sleeping off a Royal Headache,” Serena claimed. She rolled her eyes, then took a bite of her pie. “Sometimes I think I do my job too well.”

As Calem continued to strike the dummy, Serena held out her cup of ale towards him. With a nod, he retracted his weapon and took the drink in his hand. “Thank you,” he said, then took a hearty pull from the vessel.

The bitter taste of the cloudy ale came to him as a welcome relief. Even after trying some of the finer wines that Kalos had to offer (as it was a perk of Squirehood), Calem always felt more at home with a frothy mug in his hand.

Serena noticed Calem’s evident fondness for the brew and smirked. “At this rate you’ll be Sir Calem: Knight of Amber Ale and Form-Fitting Hose.”

Humoured, Calem gave her a sly look as he glanced down towards his legwear. Like many other Squires and Knights and Soldiers, he donned a slim pair of hose to allow for better movement during his daily routine. On occasion he would overhear the female servants expressing their appreciation for such garments. Seemingly in the vein of that, Serena saw it fit to express her own thoughts regarding Calem’s choice in clothing — only her comments were a lot more playful and friendly but mostly sassy.

“I better be,” Calem replied with a comical air of boldness. “I’m sure the fair maidens of Kalos will appreciate the view.”

The two shared a laugh, then Calem handed her the cup of ale back and returned to his training. He was sure that had the dummy been a living person they would most definitely be dead by now. Either that or severely injured to the most hellish extent.

For a moment the two just remained as they were — Calem furthering his attempt at Knighthood and Serena lounging without a care in the world. They may have been not feasting until dawn or being entertained by court jesters, but even the lowborns had ways of enjoying their spare time.

After a few moments passed and Serena was close to finishing off her meal, she glanced down and noticed something peculiar on the ground of the castle courtyard. She swallowed her final mouthful of buttery pie crust and let out a hum.

“Look over there.”

Calem’s sword collided with the head of the dummy with a mighty force — with his hand still on the grip and the blade still touching the target, he glanced down to see what had Serena’s undertunic in a twist.

Hiding behind an empty wooden wine barrel was Chespin. Its ears were perked up and its eyes showed off an air of curiosity. It stared at the pair of bastards, then looked to Calem in particular.

“Friend of yours?” Serena asked.

“In a way,” the Squire replied. He lowered his sword and handed it to her, then knelt down towards Chespin to look the green and brown creature in the eye. “Hello there, are you lost again?”

Seeing as Chespin was not capable of human speech, it simply walked towards Calem with a clumsy waddle and pressed itself against his shin, wrapping its arms around the limb in an adorable attempt at a hug.

Confused, Calem blinked. “Uh… I’m afraid I’ve run out of apples, Little Imp.”

The grin upon Serena’s face was bright like the sun. “Awww…” she cooed. “It likes you.”

Calem nodded, his bewilderment persisting. “Yes, I can see that.” He knelt down and picked Chespin up, holding the creature with as much care as he did before. He looked the little one in the eye and tickled its stomach like how a mother would to her beloved child. “You’re a real clingy one, aren’t you?”

Serena hopped off the stack of crates and set her cup down. She approached the two and began petting Chespin’s head. “I think it just  wants a friend,” she said. “Is the little thief that was running through the kitchens?”

Calem nodded. “Indeed — I released him in the gardens and thought he’d be on his way, I suppose I was wrong.”

Serena scratched behind Chespin’s ears, something that the creature seemed to appreciate. “That doesn’t seem like a bad thing, maybe he wants to be a Knight like you.”

Despite the look of contentedness tugging at his face, Calem felt a pang of worry at the bottom of his stomach. “I’m not sure if Sir Wikstrom would let it be, there are no laws allowing Squires to have creatures with them.”

“But are there any laws stopping Squires from having them?” Serena brought up, playfully smirking at her friend.

For a second Calem began to think — in his head he ran through the various laws of Squirehood that the Knights of Kalos had created in the days of yore. Most of them pertained to public drunkenness and the importance of keeping a Kalosian Knight neatly groomed, but none of them applied to the current situation at hand.

Calem glanced to Chespin, who was currently snuggling its face into the crook of his elbow, smearing green grass stains all over his favourite gambeson. Despite the hesitancy, he gave the little one a grin and lifted the creature high above his head, its tiny feet excitedly swishing through the air.

“I suppose a few days together wouldn’t hurt.”

When Calem brought Chespin down again, he let the creature climb on his shoulder, where it was very glad to be. It settled itself on the top of his head, looking down at its new friend with absolute joy. “I suppose even Squires need Squires sometimes,” he decided, knowing full well that he had made the right choice.

For a few seconds, the pair of bastards beamed at the new creature in their presence… only for the moment to be ruined by Chespin tugging on Calem’s hair.

The Squire’s eyes widened as the creature’s claws grasped onto his dark black locks. “Oh… oh Yvetal, please don’t do that,” he tried, reaching up to get Chespin off his head.

Serena was quick to help, swiftly stepping over and taking Chespin by the scruff of its neck “Whoa, slow down there, most humans don’t like that.”

Once the matter was dealt with and Chespin had let go of Calem’s hair, the Squire sat down on the stack of crates, his newfound friend snuggling onto his lap.

Humoured and exasperated, Calem let out a sigh and then smiled. “We’ve got a few boundaries to discuss, don’t we?”

Serena laughed as Chespin and Calem got to know each other more. Moments passed, then she looked to her left hand, noticing that she had still been holding the Squire’s blunted longsword during all this time. Curiously,  she lifted up the weapon and felt its weight in her arms. It was lighter than she expected, or maybe her body was simply harder where a Lady’s would be soft. Perhaps her years of labouring in the Castle had amounted to something after all.

Grasping the longsword in both hands — one by the crossguard and the other by the pommel, just like Calem had taught her — the weapon immediately became more maneuverable. She raised the mighty sword upwards just like Calem did, positioning her feet apart in preparation to throw out a strike.

From where he was sitting on the crates, Calem watched in intrigue and amusement. “You like that sword, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Serena said with a confident grin. It was as if merely holding the weapon imbued with the power of Yvetal and Xerneas’s forces combined.

With a tight grip on the handle, Serena brought her sword down and struck the head of her dummy with all of her strength.

[writing-reading-inspiring]

Best Friend’s Brother (Tom Holland X Reader)

Summary: (y/n) never wanted to hurt her best friend, but sometimes life has different plans. She just wished they could have different consequences. 

A/N: This “one-shot” is very long. When I say that, I mean that it’s over 5500 words. The reason I put quotation marks around one-shot is because I’m considering doing a part two if you guys want. 

Warnings: yelling, curse words, guilt, alluded to sex, derogatory terms, angst, a little bit of fluff

I felt my heart break with every word coming out of Harry’s mouth. I had betrayed him. I knew the consequences of my actions, and yet I still went through with them. What kind of friend does that? I can feel tears rolling down my face as my chest gets heavy with guilt. Yet, somehow, even with all of the trouble it caused, I still don’t regret going to that pub.

Two years ago, I made the decision to finish my schooling at the University of London. It was a big choice, but I knew it would ultimately be the best one for my career. So, I packed up my belongings and moved into an apartment off campus.

My new roommates, Celeste and Esma, and I clicked right away. I knew from the moment I met them that I had made the right choice. 

It was early December when they invited me to go to a local pub with them, the Blackfriar. 

I’m not personally a drinker, but it was an opportunity to spend more time with them before I had to go back home for the holidays. With this in mind, how could I refuse the offer?

Everything was fine up until the point Celeste started talking to the handsome stranger besides her. Esma followed her lead and started to talk to the young man seated to her left, leaving me to nurse my water with lemon pathetically.

It wasn’t too long until the two left with the men. I honestly didn’t mind too much until a curly haired man sat besides me. 

He was very obviously intoxicated and was trying (but failing) to get me to come home with him.

He used cheesy pick up lines along with the generous offer to buy me a drink to try and persuade me, but I mostly just ignored his advances. After about 10 minutes of him flirting, I had decided to just pay off my tab and go home. 

“Listen, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I’m really not interested.”

The man nodded at this, “That’s okay, it’s cool. I should probably call a taxi anyway.”

“Okay,” I chuckled at his slurred speech, “You go and call you and your friends a taxi.”

I thought that was the end of our conversation until he gave me a perplexed expression.

“My friends left with a group of girls about an hour ago.”

“Wait, so they left you by yourself, drunk, at a pub.”

“You make it sound so bad,” he told me while holding his head up with his hand. 

I sighed as I contemplated my options. I could either let him find his own way home, or help him to make sure nothing happened while he’s not in the right state of mind. Ugh, why can’t I just be an asshole?

“Okay, excuse me!” I called over the bartender to settle both of our tabs.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking care of the tabs before we get you home.”

He gave me a lazy smirk before saying, “I knew you’d want to go home with me.”

I laughed at him, “Wow there cowboy, I’m just making sure you get home without being murder. Nothing else is happening.”

The bartender, who was running my card, looked up at me. “You’re actually just taking him home?”

“Yeah, his friends left and I don’t feel like having a guilty conscience tonight.”

He gave me an impressed look, “Good for you.”

After everything was settled, I called the two of us a taxi after getting the man’s address. 

“You know I don’t even know your name.”

I looked down at the man resting his head on my shoulder as the taxi driver made his way through the streets of London.

“I know, I never gave you my name just like you never gave me yours.”

“I’m Harry, love. Now what’s your excuse?”

“I’m (y/n).”

“(y/n). It’s a pretty name for an even prettier girl.”

“Alright Romeo, let’s just focus on getting you home.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for the remainder of the trip, finally ending up in front of an apartment building. 

We got out of the taxi after paying the driver. I barely managed to pull Harry out of the taxi because he had gone almost limp at this point from fatigue.

“Come on, Harry. I can’t fully support your body. I need you to help me out here. At least tell me your apartment number.”

“It’s 312,” He mumbled while pressing his face into my neck.

We stumbled up to his apartment, me fully supporting him at this point.

He fumbled with the keys he pulled out from his pocket, unable to get the key to fully turn in the lock.

I sighed, “Give me the keys. I got it.”

After Harry passed me the keys, I was able to easily unlock the door, dragging him in behind me. We made our way through the apartment and into what I assumed was the master bedroom. 

I plopped Harry onto the bed, leaning over to fully cover him with the blanket.

Just as I was pulling back a set of arms wrapped around my waist.

“Don’t leave. I won't try anything, I just want to cuddle.”

Harry dragged me into the bed and held on to me tightly. I tried to wiggle my way out of his strong embrace but I was unable to. 

“Harry, come on man. I need to go. Please let me go. Harry? Harry?”

I looked down and saw him fast asleep, half on top of me. Guess I wasn’t going anywhere.

The morning pulled around and Harry woke up to an empty bed and a killer headache.

He groggily got out of bed, changing from the clothes he had on last night into a pair of sweats and a white shirt to be more comfortable. He began to make his way to the bathroom when he heard banging coming from the kitchen.

He quickly made his way to the area where the sound was coming from and found me cooking.

I could feel his questioning gaze on me and turned around.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Surprised your up. Would have thought the hangover would keep you down for a bit more.”

I could tell I was thoroughly confusing Harry and I couldn’t help but smirk to myself and the puzzled look on his face.

“Um … yeah, the hangover sucks, but I’ve had worse. I’m sorry, but who are you?”

I couldn’t help but mess with him in this situation. I mean come on, the dude doesn’t remember me and he held me hostage for the night. The least I could do was have some fun.

“What do you mean? You don’t remember me? How could you not remember the person who you told ‘I love you’ to? How could you not remember the person you proposed to last night?” I held up my left hand, showing him the ring that I got from my mother last Christmas that only fits on my ring finger. 

Harry looked mortified with this information and I couldn’t help but feel proud of myself.

“Listen, I’m sure you're great and all, but I was drunk out of my mind last night. Please don’t take any offense, but I don’t know who you are.” He looked me up and down briefly before a smirk began to pull at his lips. “I’m sure we can figure something out though. How about I take you to breakfast and we figure out where to go from here. I’m sure the drunk me proposed to you for a reason. I’m more than happy to find out why.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at him which made the smirk on his face disappear.

“Easy there tiger, I was playing with you. We met at the pub and you were wasted, and started to flirt with me. After I rejected you, you told me how your friends had left and you should be going home. I felt bad for you and decided to take you here so nothing bad happened. I was planning on leaving after putting you in bed, but apparently someone’s a cuddly drunk. You fell asleep on top of me and I couldn’t leave.”

Harry went bright red at the retelling of last night. He dragged his hand down his face and quickly got a glass of water.

“Please tell me that’s a lie.”

I shook my head in response, laughing when I heard him mumble how he would have preferred the first story.

“Honestly, it’s all cool man. I would probably take some medicine for that hangover though. I’m sure your head’s still pounding.”

He nodded before going to the medicine cabinet and grabbing some Tylenol. He swallowed two of the pills before looking back at me.

“I’m really sorry about last night. Let me buy you breakfast.”

I gave him a pointed look.

He put his hand up in defense, “I just want to apologize and the best way to do that is with food.”

I thought about it for a moment before agreeing. I mean, he wasn’t wrong.

That was the start of a beautiful friendship. That drunken idiot became my best friend. The friendship has brought me nothing but joy and acceptance. Well, until now that is. There was one problem with this friendship. It also brought me the love of my life.

I continued to listen to Harry yelling at me, Harrison and Tuwaine trying to get him to calm down. 

I couldn’t talk back, I couldn’t say anything. My throat was closing as I continued to cry. I knew this would happen. I knew from the moment I met him that I was in trouble.

“Are you excited for the cookout?”

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Harry barging into my room. 

“When did you get here?”

He didn’t answer my question as he took off his shoes and flung himself besides me. He proceeded to take my book from my hand and toss it onto my dresser. Harry made himself comfortable and turned on my TV, settling on continuing Criminal Minds. 

Once he was settled he finally looked at me. 

“You done? Great. Now that I have your attention, when did you get here?”

“That’s not important. Are you excited for the cookout? You never answered.”

I rolled my eyes at him before giving him a small smile, “Yes, Harry. I’m very excited for the cookout. I get to meet your twin and the rest of the family.”

He beamed back at me, “I’m glad you're excited. They can’t wait to meet you. My brothers low key think we’re dating and my parents think we would be cute together just from what they heard. I can’t wait to get them off our backs finally.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know Harry, I don’t think meeting them will help. It might just get worse. Everyone I meet loves me. I’m just a people person I guess.”

Harry sat up and proceeded to hit me with a pillow.

“Hey, this is my room. Calm down mister.”

“Stop being a div. Hopefully they’ll see that we’re good friends and will only be good friends. That is unless you want to try to be something more. I mean you already got the ring and everything.”

I glared at him while he laughed. After a few seconds I joined in, never being able to contain myself when he’s laughing. 

Even though he makes comments like these, we both know we’ll only ever be friends. That’s all we want to be. This isn’t me just assuming either, we’ve had actual deep conversations about what we feel for the other and we both agree that we don’t romantically love the other. 

“So listen -”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

Harry gave me an annoyed look before continuing, “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. There’s something I kind of haven’t told you. My brother’s Spiderman. Well, he’s the actor that plays Spiderman, cause you know Spiderman isn’t actually real.”

I gave a dramatic gasp. “Spiderman isn’t real. My whole life has been a lie,” I laughed.

When I looked back at Harry I could tell he was genuinely worried about the information he just gave me.

“Harry, I know.”

He sat back up quickly, “What?”

“I come from a family that watches marvel movies. I figured out he was your brother once I knew your last name.”

He looked down, “Oh.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at his behavior. It took a minute before it all clicked.

“Harry, you’re my best friend,” I took his hand while I spoke. “You got that title on your own. I considered you a friend before I even made the connection and the discovery didn’t change anything. I’m not friends with you because of your brother. I would never use you like that. Believe it or not, I actually like hanging out with you. I know it surprises me too sometimes.”

I gave me a smile while he nudged me. I smiled back, happy that I reassured him of our friendship.

“Anyways, I’m excited for you to meet my family. I think you’ll get along well with them.”

Harry couldn’t be more right about that. 

From the moment I stepped into his parents house, I was greeted with ‘hello’s and ‘it’s nice to finally meet you’s. 

I met Harry’s mother first. She was by the front hall when we arrived and instantly started to talk to me. Harry looked offended when she brushed right past him to see me and I couldn’t help but give him a smug look. 

After proper introductions, she took me to the living room where I met his father and little brother, Paddy. 

Harry and I were a tad bit early, so I helped his mother set out some food while Harry helped his father grill. 

It wasn’t long till Harry’s brother, Sam, arrived with his girlfriend. I was ecstatic to meet the twin I had heard so much about.

“Hi, I’m (y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

“So you’re the (y/n) I’ve heard about. I got to tell you, the whole proposal thing, absolutely amazing.”

I laughed at his allusion to the first proper conversation Harry and I had. 

We carried the conversation outside to meet with the rest of the family. Harry eventually joined in when Sam started to poke fun at him.

It was about an hour before a blue-eyed man came through the back door.

“Harrison,” Sam greeted.

“Hey, bro. Oh, who’s this?”

I smiled at the man before getting up to properly meet him.

“Hi, I’m (y/n), Harry’s friend. I’m guessing you’re Harrison?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that’s me.”

Before I could say more, Nikki and Dom came and welcomed the man, asking about their oldest son.

“Tom should be coming out soon. He had to put the cake into the fridge.”

As if on cue, Tom walked into the background. I was taken back for a minute by seeing him in person, but quickly recovered once Harry and his other two brothers came forward.

“You’re back! How was filming in Atlanta?” Paddy asked while hugging his brother.

“Pretty good,” Tom laughed while moving on to hug Sam.

The family fully greeted one another and kept asking Tom questions about his most recent film. Tom was so immersed in his family's conversation that he didn’t even notice me until Harry wrapped his arm over my shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Tom,” he smiled and held out his hand.

“(y/n). I’m Harry’s friend,” I replied while shaking his hand.

When our hands met, tingles ran up my arm and down my spine. I could tell Tom felt the same thing by the way his eyes met mine. I knew exactly what we were both feeling once I looked into his chocolate eyes. We quickly pulled away from one another and continued the previous conversation before Tom changed the subject to me. We both didn’t want to acknowledge what we felt, or at least I didn’t.

The rest of the night went by calmly. I mostly stayed by Harry’s side as he caught up with his friends and family. I was brought into the conversations as well, so I wasn’t bored or being ignored. It was quite lovely up until I began to help put leftover food away.

Tom decided to help as well, which was fine until we ended up in the kitchen alone with each other.

“So you’re Harry’s girlfriend?”

I quickly turned around from the steak I was packing up. “What? No, we’re just friends.”

“So you’re single?” He turned around to face me while asking.

“I am. Why are you so interested,” I laughed, trying to cover up the sound of my beating heart. 

He shook his head back at me, turning back around. “No reason. Just wanted to know more about you. Harry and you seem close, so I wanted to see why he’s so enamored with you. I see why now.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that grazed my lips. “I don’t think Harry would ever use the word enamored when trying to describe how he feels about me.”

“He didn’t, I did. Thought it was fitting,” he told me while looking over his shoulder.

I quickly turned back to the counter to cover up my blush. 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you see it, Harry walked in with another plate of steaks. 

“Hey, (y/n). I got more beef for you to pack away. Wanted to see how well you can handle your meat.”

I gave him a disgusted look, “I’m going to beat the shit out of you one day, I swear. Give me the dead cow.”

Harry began to laugh at me and I could hear Tom trying to stifle his laughs from behind me.

“Oh, so you think it’s funny too, Tom. Okay, I see how it is. It’s fine. I’ll get you both back. Watch, I’m vengeful enough to do it when you’re least expecting it. I’ll wait years just to get the moment perfect. We’ll see if you both are laughing then.”

This just made the two of them laugh even harder, causing me to join in. 

“I trusted you, (y/n). I trusted you with everything. I told you things I’ve never told anyone before and you still decide to betray me like this? I thought you were my friend.”

I held the blanket closer to me, thinking that it could somehow help me deflect his words. I deserved it though. I did betray him. I betrayed him in the worst way possible.

I was spending the night at the apartment that Harry shares with Tom, Harrison, and Tuwaine. 

Harry slept soundly besides me as I tried to fall asleep. No matter what position I got into or what supposedly soothing sound I listened to, I couldn’t fall asleep. 

I eventually gave up around 3:47 and settled on just trying to pass the time until I was tired. 

I made my way down to the kitchen, mind set on the cookies I helped bake earlier. 

I was startled to see the light in the kitchen was already on. I thought I was the only one up.

I made my way to the entrance, stopping when I saw Tom looking back at me with half a cookie in his mouth.

I softly smiled at him, “Hey. what are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I laughed at him while rubbing my eyes, “I couldn’t sleep and I wanted some of the cookies that you’re currency eating. Funny how you wait until the dead of night to eat them. Is that because I told you you couldn’t have any when you refused to help make them?” I teased him while slowly walking closer to him.

He smiled back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, love. I’m just eating some cookies I found in my home.”

I grabbed the other half of the cookie from his hand and took a bite.

“They’re pretty good, not to brag.”

“You’re so humble too.”

“I know, I’m amazing. Not to brag.”

We both quietly laughed, trying not to wake up the others. 

“So, you avoided my question. Why are you awake still?”

Tom looked down, “I don’t know. Guess I just have a lot on my mind.”

I slowly brought my hand to his chin, turning his head to look at me. “Is everything okay?”

Tom grabbed my hand from his chin, interlocking out fingers while he looked me in the eye.

His eyes changed their focus to my lips, slowly leaning in before looking back into my eyes for permission.

I knew it was wrong, but I gave a small nod, sealing my own downfall.

Our lips connected in a passion filled kiss. Nothing was rushed but I could still feel our need for each other by the way we pushed our bodies as close as possible, not wanting to be apart in any way. We acted on the feelings that had been held in for a year. A year of building tension was finally being released and we both wanted to savor every moment of it.

I pulled away from the kiss, Tom trying to follow my lips once I did.

“This isn’t going to end well, Tom.”

He sighed before pulling me in for a hug. “I know, but honestly, I don’t care.”

I pulled back, only to kiss him again. 

The screams coming from Harry drowned out the sound of the front door opening and the sound of footsteps rushing into his room.

“What the hell is going on here? You’re making her cry, mate.” Tom said while rushing in. 

Harry whipped around, glaring at his brother. If looks could kill, Tom would be six feet in the ground.

“Oh, so you want to come in here and be her knight in shining armor, huh? If you were really that noble then you wouldn’t be fucking my best friend behind my back.”

Tom’s eyes widened at Harry’s words, shifting his eyes to me.

“No! Don’t look at her. You really thought you could hide this from me?”

Harrison and Tuwaine backed out of the room, knowing that they shouldn’t be present during the conversation that was about to happen. 

“Look it’s not like that - “

“Not like that? Are you kidding me? I saw the bloody video,” Harry cut him off.

I had just arrived at Harry’s apartment when I got a text from him.

‘Hey, got caught up in the shoot. Won’t be home for another hour.’

Well that was just great. I still made my way to the door, knowing that one of the other boys will answer.

A few seconds after I knocked, the door opened to reveal Tom in just some gray sweatpants.

“Hello, miss, how may I help you today?” Tom smirked at me.

“Hello, young man. Is your mom home?” Tom’s smirk fell at this, but was quickly put back on.

“Actually it’s just me. Lonely and bored, looking for something or someone to do.”

After he said this he quickly met me on the door mat, smashing our lips together and grabbing my ass at the same time. 

“Would you be interested in helping me?” He asked once he pulled away, smirking at my dazed expression.

“Well, if you’re really in need as much as you say you are. The only right thing to do would be to help.”

He smiled back at me before kissing me again, this time bringing his hands to my thighs for me to jump into. 

He carried me inside and pressed me into the now closed door, never breaking the kiss once. 

His lips moved to my neck as I moved my hands to his hair, slightly tugging on it to pull him away.

“Are you really alone?”

“Yep, Haz and Tuwaine won’t be back for at least an hour. Is Harry going to be here soon?”

My smile grew at his words, “He just texted me that he won’t be here for another hour.”

“Well, then that gives us more than enough time doesn’t it.”

His lips returned to my neck again as he walked us to his bedroom.

By the time Harry came home, I was already put back together and looked as if nothing happened. 

“Hey (y/n), sorry to keep you waiting. I know you get upset when I’m not around.”

I laughed at Harry, “You wish, Holland. Though next time, you may want to be more careful. I mean having me wait alone for an hour in your room wasn’t smart. Expectantly when you don’t have a password on your computer.”

His eyes widened at my words before he grabbed his laptop from his bed and put it in a drawer.

I laughed even harder at this, “Calm down, I’m just messing with you. Now I have a frightening idea what’s on your computer though.”

Harry calmed down before flopping on his bed next to me, “Wait, you waited alone? Why didn’t you just hang out with Tom before I got home? I know he’s here.”

“Oh, I didn’t want to bother Tom. I figured his jet lag is pretty bad.”

“I heard my name,” Tom said while coming into the room.

His hair was combed and he had gotten dressed in some jeans and a shirt.

“Just because we were talking about you doesn’t mean you have to get involved.”

We all laughed at Harry’s joke. 

“Well, okay then. I get when I’m not wanted. Lucky for me, I need to go to the store. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Oh, can you get more chocolate chips? (y/n)’s going to make some more cookies.”

“I am?” I asked Harry.

He turned his head to me while getting up, “Yes, you are. I’m going to grab some chips. Oh, can you get more of those too?” 

Tom let out a chuckle as Harry left the room, not even waiting for an answer.

He turned his attention back to me.

“I’ll be back soon, darling. I love you,” he said while leaning down to kiss me.

“I love you too.”

He kissed me again, this time making it a bit longer. 

I laughed as he pulled away only to plant more kisses on the corners of my mouth.

“You need to go, Tom.”

“Okay, okay. Just one more,” he said pecking my lips once again.

Tom had just stood up straight again when Harry walked back into the room with some Doritos. 

“I thought you were leaving?”

“I am, just wanted to ask (y/n) if she wanted something.”

Tom left with that, leaving Harry to jump back into bed with me and put on the Purge.

About thirty minutes in, Harry began to talk to me, “I would leave the country if something like this was happening.”

“Same, or at least get a security camera and a hidden room.”

Harry suddenly sat up and grabbed his phone from the side table. “That reminds me, I actually installed some cameras.”

“Really? Why would you do that? Last time I checked, the purge takes place in America.”

Harry laughed at my joke while shaking his head. “I don’t want anything bad happening. There’s crazy people in all countries, (y/n). I set up cameras in the backyard and the front entrance. Wait, I can actually go back to earlier today when you arrived. Hold on a minute.”

Harry began to rewind the footage he pulled up from an app on his phone. I quickly understood what would happen if he saw that footage.

“Harry, you don’t need to do that. Let’s just watch the movie,” I said as I tried to take his phone.

“No, no, I almost got it. Here! See, Tom’s opening the door.”

I tried to grab his phone again, “Okay, well we saw it. Now can we please go back to the movie, I want to see what happens.”

Harry looked at me confused, “You’ve seen this movie (y/n).” His attention returned to the phone, “Hey, why didn’t you hang out with Tom when he’s the one who opened the door? I know he likes to hang out with you. He always asks if you’re coming over.”

Suddenly Harry’s face changed. I could see his emotions change from confused, to shocked, to upset, to angry. The cat was out of the bag. 

“Harry, let me explain -”

Harry quickly stood up and made his way away from me. 

“You’re sleeping with Tom?” He cut me off.

“It really isn’t what -”

“Are you really about to tell me that it isn’t what it looks like? I saw the fucking video (y/n). So, what is it then? Huh, what am I not getting?”

I tried to answer, but my throat was closing.

“That’s what I thought.”

At this moment, Harrison and Tuwaine came running into the room, worried about the shouting.

“Mate, what’s going on -” Harrison tried to ask.

“What’s going on is that (y/n) is a lying whore. A snake who only uses people for their own gain.”

The two roommates were taken back by the statement, not used to Harry talking about me this way.

It was at this that the dam holding back my tears broke, causing a flood of emotions to overtake me. 

Harry looked at me in disgust, “You don’t get to cry. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

From there the one sided argument continued. 

“What video, Harry?” Tom asked.

“I installed cameras in the front entrance. I saw your little greeting.”

Tom’s eyes widened, “Harry, it really isn’t what you’re thinking. We aren’t just hooking up behind your back. I love her.”

My voice came back with Tom, “And I love him, Harry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was worried about how you would react. I didn’t want you to find out this way. You’re my best friend, Harry. Even when you said those horrible things about me, which I am pissed about by the way, you’re still my best friend. 

Harry took in a deep breath, “I’m sorry about what I said. I know that was over the top, but that doesn’t change the fact that you knew how I felt about introducing you to Tom. You knew I was scared of something like this happening and yet you still went behind my back and did it.”

“I know and I am so sorry about what happened. But, I can’t help the way I feel, Harry. I love both of you too much for my own good. I knew that telling you would ruin one of those relationships and I couldn’t do that. It was selfish, I know, but that didn’t stop me.”

Harry sighed, seeming to be already regretting what he was about to say. “You were right, (y/n). This kind of news is going to ruin one of your relationships. I’m sorry, but I can’t stand you two being together if I’m still going to be friends with you. You know I was worried about you using me to get to Tom. Hell, even when that was settled, I was worried that you would want to be with Tom more than you wanted to be with me. I’m always going to be insecure about you and him, (y/n). I already have to deal with this, I don’t want it to double. I want what’s best for you, even if that isn’t me. I’m happy for you if you want to be with Tom, but I can’t be your friend if you are. I know that it’s selfish and I know it’s a dick move, but I can’t deal with it all. I’m sorry.”

I stood up from his bed, walking over to him to give him a hug. I made eye contact with Tom from over Harry’s shoulder. He gave me a small smile as I pulled away. He knew what I was about to do, and he accepted it. Tears began to pool in my eyes again.

“You’re my best friend, Harry. You’re one of the first people that made me feel like I made the right decision by moving here. I can’t lose you.”

“You know what that means, right?”

I gave Tom one last look, “I know.”

Harry smiled back at me and pulled me in for another hug. “I promise things will be okay. Just give it a week and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

Tom walked out of the room at this. 

I wanted to believe Harry’s words, but I knew better. Nothing would ever be the same. I can't just turn off my feelings for Tom because I didn’t want to lose my best friend. But that’s the thing. I would have lost either way.