#meanwhile my knee is like ‘hey remember when you broke me like ten years ago? I don’t think you to. swelling time.’ in what appears to be

[asimovsideburns]

[image description: a tweet from Tig Notaro (blue check) @/TigNotaro that says: Chronic pain is your body is screaming “im in pain” and you are like ok what’s wrong and your body’s like “that part is actually a secret”

The tweet is dated August 26, 2022. End image description.]

[roguerogerss]

Sorry is a Sorry Word

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Plot: Steve fucked up - bad. He doesn’t really know how, or if, he should say sorry, until Dustin gives him a pep talk.

W/C: 3.1k

A/N: Just now realising how long this is oops, sorry. My first Stranger Things fic! Finally. (watch this flop so hard lmao) Remember to like and reblog if you enjoy! It really helps me out. As always, requests are open and any and all feedback is appreciated <3

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"Dustin, Please, just leave me alone." She lay back on her bed, tears streaming down her face and hair amiss from where she'd run her fingers through it. "I'm fine, I just...give me some time."

"But, we tell eachother everything." Her little brother sounded so small and defeated that it almost broke her heart in two. She could hear him leaning his back against the door, the back of his head thumping dully against the wood a second later. "I feel like we're drifting apart. You don't talk to me anymore."

"Dustin-"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry." Dustin cleared the remnants of his upset from his throat, "We can talk later. I get that you need time."

And with that, he'd left. She could hear his muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor of the hallway, walking away from her bedroom and back to his own. She knew that she wanted to talk to him and vent about all of the happenings of the day, but she couldn't bring herself to let her walls down in front of anyone about her current situation just yet.

It was Steve. And it was bad.

They'd been together for a year and ten months. He'd been there for her through thick and thin. Whenever their mom went MIA, something that happened more often than not, during the days and weeks and months that Y/N was left to take care of her thirteen year old brother on her own with no notice whatsoever, Steve was there. And he'd take Dustin out to the cinema, give him free ice cream, play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends - even though Steve had no idea how to play Dungeons and Dragons. He'd sleep over, make her feel like she wasn't alone. It filled her with pride to see him taking Dustin under his wing, more like a dad than even an older brother.

When they lost Hopper, who'd become more of a parental figure than she and Dustin's mom was to her, he was standing by her side at the funeral, hand grasping her own smaller one with force and squeezing it every so often, just to remind her that he was there. He was there after the funeral, too, when they went to the cabin and went through Hopper's things. He was there when she found the birthday present that Hopper had bought for her, a necklace with, 'you're pretty cool, kid', engraved on it. Hopper's way of saying that he loved her. It came with a letter, one that she cried so hard while reading that she couldn't see the words on the page.

The point was, that Steve had been there through everything. And now that they'd had a huge argument over - of all things - Nancy Wheeler, she was unsure of whether or not she'd have Steve to lean on anymore.

It wasn't so much a stupid argument as it was a stupid mistake on Steve's end. He even admitted to himself that what he'd done was more than a dick move. Tina was having a party, a big one, for old time's sake. Y/N wasn't invited, having been socially considered as 'uncool' while in High School, while Steve was invited. He said that it wasn't a big deal, it didn't matter, he wouldn't go.

Except that it was a big deal, it did matter, and, well, he did go.

He'd gotten really drunk, so drunk, in fact, that he had no recollection of the night at all and managed to stumble to Y/N's front door at five in the morning.

He'd told her that he went to the party, that he was sorry. She'd been mad, but she was so tired that she said she'd deal with it in the morning and told Steve to sleep it off on the sofa. Before going to sleep, however, Steve had told Y/N that he 'thought he might've kissed Nancy' that night.

They'd argued about it the next day. She'd dropped him off at home, neither of them speaking at all in the car, and they'd screamed at eachother in Steve's living room. Little did either of them know, Steve hadn't actually kissed Nancy, he was just so drunk that he made himself believe that he had. And then, Y/N told Steve that they were done, and he'd said 'fine', and she'd left and cried in her car for an hour.

And now, she was here. Crying on her bed, little brother probably thinking that one of her friends had died or something.

She hated herself for blowing up and flying off the handle and literally breaking up with Steve. Steve, on the other hand, hated himself for even going to the party, hated himself for - possibly - kissing Nancy, hated himself for going to Y/N's front door and waking her up so early in the morning.

In the grand scheme of things, Steve Harrington had been an asshole. And he was all too aware of it.

It had been around half an hour since she got home when Dustin knocked on the door again. This time, she'd managed to calm down enough to allow him to come inside. She looked horrifying, hair messed up, tear stained face, cuddling a pillow and wearing one of Steve's shirts, but Dustin was her brother, he had no right to judge her.

The door swung open slowly, and Dustin was there, grinning and holding two pints of ice cream, spoons, and some movies. "Thought we could put a movie on and eat. And you can tell me about your problems and I promise I'll listen."

"Is the ice cream cookie dough?" Y/N asked, sniffling, and a watery smile crossed her face. Dustin laughed, happy to see his sister perking up at least a little bit, even if it was over ice cream, and turned the carton to reveal to her that it was, in fact, cookie dough.

"Only the best." He tossed one of the cartons and a spoon at her, and turned on the TV set that sat across from her bed. "Besides, I know it's the only one you'll eat when you're sad."

"You know me entirely too well." She hugged her knees to her chest and dug into her ice cream, relishing in the taste of it for a second, "Oh my God, I haven't had this in so long. And the Scoops cookie dough is so bad."

"Right? I know Steve thinks it's the best, but he is so wrong." Little did Dustin know, one mention of his name would make Y/N's meltdown begin all over again. Soon enough, she was crying hot tears into her ice cream, and she allowed Dustin to lay his head on her shoulder while she explained everything.

"Okay, I have to go somewhere." Dustin knew what he had to do, and Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he got swiftly up from her bed. "I'll be like, maybe half an hour. But you can eat my ice cream if it starts to melt."

"Dustin! Don't leave me!"

"Watch the movie!"

And then he was gone, and she was by herself, with only some ice cream and E.T. to keep her company.

Meanwhile, Dustin had found Steve at work. He was insanely hungover - although, the headache and sickness had gone away thanks to Robin and her Tylenol, but the tiredness still remained - and reminded Dustin faintly of a particular zombie in Day of the Dead when he walked into Family Video to find him leaning on the counter. The grim look on his face wasn't so much because of the hangover, though, it was more to do with the fact that he and his girlfriend of nearly two years had broken up half an hour ago, and he'd been forced to go to work.

"If you're here to talk to Steve, I wouldn't. He nearly punched me when I asked him if he wanted Tylenol. And I'm a girl." Robin stopped Dustin at the front door, a serious look on her face, but he shrugged her off.

"It's fine. He won't do anything. Besides, I know what this whole thing's about. That's why I'm here." He tried to walk off again, but Robin grabbed his upper arm, tugging him back and making him elaborate.

"Is it Y/N? I think there was a fight between them or something. He’s never looked this rough.” Robin looked concerned, and she was. She’d never seen Steve so upset before. “He was crying when he came in.” She added.

Dustin shrugged, “Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him. He’ll be fine tomorrow.” He decided not to give Robin any more information on the situation in case Y/N or Steve would've gotten mad at him for it.

"Henderson, hey." Steve said quietly when he noticed that Dustin had entered the store. He looked like he'd been crying, and Robin was definitely right when she said he’d never looked rougher. "If you're here to hang out-"

"I'm not here to hang out, Steve. We have to talk." Dustin crossed his arms sternly over his chest, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in the direction of the store room. Steve grumbled and complied, unlocking the door and ushering Dustin inside.

"You have to apologise."

"Apologise? Apologise for - what exactly are we talking about?" Steve rubbed a hand exhaustedly over his face, leaning against a sealed box of movies that he was supposed to have put away by now.

"You know what for, Steve. Y/N. You hurt her. Like, really badly. I don't think I've ever seen her so upset." Steve already wanted Dustin to stop, but he continued, really wanting him to get the message of just how hurt his sister was. "She cried in her room for half an hour before she even let me talk to her, and now she's at home by herself, probably crying some more because you went to a stupid party. I mean, seriously man, couldn't you just have stayed home? What was so important about it?"

Steve threw his head back and hid his face with his hands, wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He knew that he'd been a dick, he knew that he'd hurt her, but, Jesus, knowing the details made his heart flip in his chest and his stomach hurt. He hated seeing Y/N upset at the best of times, nevermind when it was his fault.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should've just left it. Jeez, Dustin, I'm such an asshole."

"Yes. An asshole, you are. And what was that other shit? About you kissing Nancy?"

"I didn't kiss Nancy, okay? My drunk mind just kinda...made me believe that I did. I called her today just to confirm." Steve swallowed, suddenly having the nausea of his hangover coming back to him.

"Does Y/N know that?" Dustin had his arms crossed, back against the wall, looking unimpressed as Steve shook his head. "Seriously man? Don't you think that the first thing you should've done after finding out that you didn't actually cheat on your girlfriend, was tell your girlfriend that you didn't actually cheat on her?"

"My head's all over the place, Henderson. Cut me some slack, okay?"

"You have to come say sorry, you know that, right?"

"I will. I will, I promise. I finish in an hour, why don't you go home, I'll buy some flowers, take a shower and get changed, and I'll come chap on your door like none of this even happened." Steve had suddenly perked up, gesturing with his arms and almost getting excited to initiate his plan.

"Yeah. Sure. But it better be good, Harrington. You better make her happy."

Steve didn't even have time to respond before Dustin was running off, getting on his bike, and cycling back home to his sister. He promised himself internally that he'd do all it took to make her happy.

Y/N had finished her ice cream and Dustin's had started to melt by the time he got home. She hadn't cried any more, had been too focussed on the movie, and Dustin was relieved to see her laughing at something on the screen when he entered her bedroom.

"Hey." She smiled. "Your ice cream's melting, you'd better eat it."

Dustin smiled and bellyflopped onto her bed, sending her into a fit of laughter. They both laughed so hard, in fact, that they barely heard the doorbell ring, and Dustin almost got up to go and get it.

He stopped himself though, not wanting Steve to call him an idiot or something along those lines. "You should go. I have to eat my ice cream before it melts." He said sheepishly, sitting back down from where he'd jumped up. Y/N rolled her eyes and threw the pillow that she was holding at Dustin's face.

"Alright, make your sad sister get the door because you have to eat ice cream." She stood up even as she spoke, knowing that Dustin wasn't going to budge. "Nice one, asshole."

Y/N had left her bedroom before Dustin could retaliate, bounding down the stairs and realising that, if anyone saw her the way that she looked now, they'd probably never respect her again. The doorbell went again, and she sighed quietly at the lack of patience from whoever was on the other side.

She - stupidly - didn't even bother to look out of the window that stood next to the door to check who it was before opening it, and nearly closed it again when she realised who was standing there.

"Hey, woah, don't close the door yet!" It was Steve, his eyes widened from the possibility that he'd come all the way to her house so that she could slam the door in his face, holding white lilies and a box of chocolates, which was - in Y/N's opinion - the cheesiest apology ever. "Just...listen? For like, a minute."

She slowly let her hand slide off of the door knob, watching as Steve relaxed a significant amount even from seeing her do that. "A minute." She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing her cheek. "You have a minute."

"Okay, uh, yeah, okay." Steve began his rambling. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone to that party, I know I shouldn't have gotten so drunk that I managed to convince myself that I kissed Nancy. Did I already say that I didn't actually kiss Nancy? I called her, and she said we didn't even speak. Bottom line is, I'm an asshole. I know that, and I hate myself for hurting you. Dustin told me how upset you were and I...I couldn't even comprehend the fact that I did that."

He paused, looking down at his feet and waiting for Y/N to say something. Something that didn't come, she simply stood, looking at and biting her fingernails, trying to figure out whether or not she should give in and forgive him or not, so he stopped waiting and spoke some more.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I love you so much. And I know that I fucked up, and I don't expect you to forgive me-"

"Steve." Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, expecting that she'd look upset or annoyed, but she was smiling and shaking her head. "Come here."

"Seriously?" He already wished he hadn't said what he did before he'd even finished speaking. Seriously? What kind of thing to say was that? "I mean, you know-"

She was already hugging him before he could finish speaking. She knew that he'd ramble on for hours if he could, but she also knew that she already forgave him and didn't need to listen to his rambling. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost you, really, I did." He sighed into her hair, realising that he was probably ruining the bouquet of flowers with the way that he was crushing them against her back.

"Well, you were an asshole. You had every right to think you'd lost me." Steve had always loved her subtle sassiness, it was a habit that she often fell into unknowingly, but it made him chuckle.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I was an asshole."

She let go of him, finally, and stood back. He was wearing his light blue jeans, a black t-shirt and belt, with a blue jacket. It was an outfit that she'd seen him in before, quite a few times, but he never failed to look good in it anyway. His hair was slightly amiss, as though he'd gotten ready as quickly as he could - which was true, but she didn't know that for sure - but it still had his Steve 'the hair' Harrington charm.

"So, can I come in, or are you just gonna stand there and mock me?" He grinned and she stood to the side, allowing him to join her in the hallway. He went straight for the kitchen, taking out a vase and filling it up with water, then placing the flowers in it and leaving it on the kitchen counter.

"I didn't say you could-" She was trying to joke with him, but he didn't seem to care much, as he cut her off by dipping his head towards hers and kissing her passionately. He hated to admit it, probably something to do with the small part of his King Steve persona that he still carried around with him, but he'd missed her, and it had only been a few hours.

"Woah, easy tiger." Y/N laughed, pulling away when Steve's hands started to travel downwards. "We haven't even properly spoken yet."

"Yeah. Sorry." Steve said sheepishly. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled down at the floor. "Do you wanna talk?"

She shrugged. "Not particularly."

"So, really, it's okay for me to do this," He closed the gap between them again, beaming at her while he searched her face for any sign of disapproval and admired the little flecks of contrasting colours that danced in her eyes. And then he kissed her again, lips soft against her own, gentle - something that wasn't widely believed, Steve Harrington was actually one of the most gentle people that Y/N had ever met.

"Well, yeah." She grinned, breathless. "But I'm sort of in the middle of watching a movie, wanna join?"

And so they spent the rest of the day, wrapped in the blankets on Y/N's bed and Y/N wrapped in Steve's arms, watching movies that Dustin fished out from the cabinet under the TV that Y/N didn't even know that they had.

She had to say, Steve's apologies were often cheesy and terrible, but this one wasn’t so bad as it was enjoyable.

[san-station]

I hate that I don’t hate you • Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

(Angst & fluff)

WARNING: some swear words, mention of alcohol.

↝Word count: 2,7k 

Your feet drawn you to the only empty bench near the dock, your nostrils could smell the salty water of the sea as you heard the waves meeting the sand a few meters away from him. You were wearing a black hoodie, jeans and sneakers while you walked to the beach near your house to clear your mind, it was a difficult day for you to be alone, and not because you didn’t have friends to rely on, you just couldn’t stand being around people that day. 

Your phone vibrated inside the jean pocket and you looked at the bubble message that appeared on the screen. The edge of your mouth raised, showing a sad smile and you rested your back on the bench. What would have happened if…

A minute later, someone next to you cleared his throat taking you out of your own thoughts, your heart skipped a few beats. 

“Hey…”, Jisung spoke and sat next to you. You watched him carefully, filling your mind with Jisung’s body, with his blue hoodie and the chubby cheeks you used to kiss more than his lips. A lump appeared on your throat, incapable of responding or even swallow, you now had fisting hands to stop them from shaking and, in your stomach, a war was starting between butterflies and stomach acid. 

“H-hi…, thanks for coming”, you stutter and put your hands inside your hoodie. 

“I… I wasn’t sure, but Minho told me this could be good for us”, that name coming out of Jisung’s mouth boiled immediately the blood on your veins, but it faded quickly. Really? From the start we’re gonna mention him, eh…?

Jisung stared at you after no response and sighed, you tried to look up at Jisung’s face but you couldn’t find the courage to do so.

“How have you been?”, Jisung is the first to ask while his eyes were straight to the sea, you moved awkwardly on your place and stared at your sneakers.

“I’ve been better…”, you mumbled gaining Jisung’s stare. The latter sighed one more time and moved closer to you. Your back tensed and you could swear Jisung stopped getting closer because he could hear your heart beat from where he was. “I know neither of us wanted to contact the other first but…”

“But you did”, Jisung’s voice was tender, every time he talked, you felt shivers down your spine as you remembered the boy’s breath caressing your skin like old times when you laid down your shared bed; you used to rambled about things you already forgot because you were way too immersed in Jisung’s expressions that you would lose yourself wishing to wake up every morning to that face. You smiled sadly as your eyes met Jisungs.

“It’s gonna be fine, Binnie, we do this all the time, we fight over something stupid and then, we settle things out!”, you spoke through the phone as you fixed the belt on your dark jeans, you were wearing a red long sleeve shirt tucked inside your pants showing a little of your chest, red high heels and your hair was freshly wet. “No, no, I already told you we have plans, Binnie, we’re going to grab something to eat, I made the reservation a week ago”, you listened as the boy replied.  “Yeaaaah, no, he’s not here yet, he’s with Minho in some exhibition near college and they wanted to watch it for a while”. 

Changbin spoke one more time and you didn’t answer right back, you waited a minute and then, you responded.

“I’m sure he remembers, we talked about this yesterday…, also is our third anniversary dinner! It’s gonna be so romantic! A stupid fight won’t change anything...”, you were happy, you couldn’t believe Jisung had actually date you for three years before you almost grabbed each others throats in the first college semester. You loved him very much, you loved how talented he was, how kind and thoughtful he could be, moreover, you loved Jisung the way he was, it didn’t matter if you argued a lot, at the end of the day, you would love each other truly. 

“I gotta go, Binnie! It’s gonna be late and I have to call Sungie”, you hanged up and dialed your boyfriend’s number. 

One beep.

Two beeps.

Voice mail.

You frowned and tried again, but you received the same voice mail. You decided to call Minho, Jisung’s best friend. 

One beep.

Two beeps.

Voice mail. 

You swallowed hard and looked at the time, the reservation will expire in thirty minutes if you don’t hurry up, but you waited ten minutes before calling again. No response. You waited ten minutes more, twenty, thirty… you waited an hour without Jisung’s reply and your heart shrunken.

“He did forget it…”

You opened your social media and found stories on Minho’s profile, they were on a bar having some drinks after the exhibition, that’s when you confirmed you boyfriend had forgotten your anniversary. With tears falling down your cheeks, you changed into comfortable clothes and watched a movie for a short time.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated with a notification from Minho, saying if you could pick up Jisung because he was way too wasted to carry all the way back. You sighed and got up the couch, dressed one more time and got out the apartament you shared with Jisung.  

“Why did you want me here?”, Jisung asked scanning your features as you kept your thoughts to yourself.

“I wanted to see you and… I wanted to tell you something”, Jisung frowned but he got closer to you. Again, a not so awkward silence filled the periphery while you connected eyes one more time.

“I’m serious, Hyung! I think I was the worst person alive in my past life...”, a drunk Jisung said as Minho stared at him with a cocky smile. “It feels so good to be true, you must know how if you love Dahyun that much”, he then swallowed the whole beer in his hand and scrunched his nose due the bubbling liquid hitting his mouth aggressively. 

“Nah, I love her but I know I was some kind of wonderful king in my past life, the one that chopped bad guys heads, you know”, he answer and Jisung laughed too hard that he almost fell from his sit. He clapped his hands and sighed loudly.

"You know when you love someone that much that you just can’t say 'I love'? But you say 'I hate' cuz' it’s so fucking strong and ugh, I hate this”, Jisung said exasperated and closed his eyes, he sighed one more time and smiled dumbly,

Meanwhile, you had a weird feeling on yor chest while driving to the bar, you were anxious. Jisung had already neglected you in few occasions just to go out with his best friend, and sometimes, insecurities could turn you into a monster. You would lie if you weren’t jealous from time to time, that spicy feeling usually was healthy in relationships but when you started to feel ditched by your own boyfriend, you could see that coming. You started to feel like a third wheel when Minho was around when it should’ve been on the contrary. 

You arrived at the place, it was crowded. You parked outside, told the valet parking that you were there to pick up someone and entered the building. After walking among a lot of unknown people to reach out for your lover, you finally found him and his best friend on the corner of the bar, they were with their backs to you so they didn’t notice you coming. Jisung, on the other hand, was talking loudly as always.

“Hyung, I hate that every morning my pillow smells like her…”, Jisung said and you stopped dryly on you feet. “And when she laughs, that sound makes me go… it makes me go crazy”, the drunk boy moved his hands to his hair and laughed.

“I hate her smile… You know the mole on the right side of her face? I hate it so fucking much”, your eyes filled with salty tears as your lungs retained the air. Minho shook his head with a grin and asked the bartender for two more beer.

“Hyung, I hate when she hugs me at night and… her kisses, ugh… I… I can’t stand them…”, Jisung smiled to himself looking at the ceiling and maybe imaging his girlfriend's mouth over his, her hands touching him everywhere, her warmth body making him shiver. Jisung felt deeply in love with you the very first time he admitted that he was jealous of your beauty and intelligence. He hated you at the beginning because he loved the way you made him feel alive, they way he could be who he truly were without feeling judge by you. Yet, on the other hand, you felt your world falling apart, you eavesdropped everything that was coming out of Jisung’s mouth and started to shake, the love of your life had broke your heart right there. You couldn’t take it anymore and walked away from the best friends.

“I hate that she makes me feel so good, hyung… I love her so much it hurts and I hate fighting even when she’s not around. My mind is so uneased 'cause I don’t want to lose her and I fucked up all the time…”, Jisung yawned and Minho glared at him, he then took his phone and frowned by the message you had sent him.

“Apparently something came up and your lover girl can’t make it here, so I guess you have to pick a taxi, Hannie”, Jisung groaned but stood up quickly making him stumble and stepped outside with Minho’s help for a taxi. 

The first thing you did when you arrived at your place was grabbing your wardrobe and tossed it into your suitcase. You were sweating cold and tears streamed down your face non-stop. Your puffy and red eyes looked around the house while you collected your stuff inside the suitcase driven by disappointment and feeling miserably, sobbs resonated in every little space of your apartment but you didn’t care, you were alone. You felt alone.

Before you could take another step, your feet failed due the tremble and you fell on your knees, heart aching if it was being cut with the sharpest knife.   

The front door of the apartment opened letting Jisung’s eyes see his girlfriend desperately crying on the floor. The alcohol and his body faded immediately and he ran to catch you.

“Babe! What happened?!”, Jisung’s despaired voice made you fall back as you tried to stay away from his embrace.

“Don’t touch me”, you whispered with a husky voice. You stood up stumbling and headed to the bedroom. Jisung followed with a concerned face, his girlfriend never had said that to him and it felt wrong, it felt like something broke inside of him. When Jisung saw the suitcase, he panicked hardly.

“What the hell are you doing?!”, he screamed and you passed next to him, avoiding his gaze. “Y/N, what the fuck? Answer me!”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Han Jisung”, you walked to the living room and saved some baby pictures you had on the place. 

“Is… is this about our fight from this morning?! C’mon, babe, It was a stupid fight”, you didn’t speak and Jisung approached you carefully. “Baby, couples fight all the time...”

“We can’t do this anymore”, you spatted making Jisung step back.

“What do you mean?”, he was confused, he knew he fucked it up fighting over your breakfast in bed, that he didn’t appreciated the cute gesture his partner had had, he knew and he also was confused because you were obviously mad about something else. 

“I can’t be with someone that hates everything about me…”, Jisung freeze, you had heard the conversation with Minho and it was all a misunderstanding. 

“N-no! Y/N, it’s not like that, you-”, he tried to defend his words, yet, something inside of him told him you wouldn’t believe his words in that state.

“You’re making me do this, Jisung, you are the number one reason I have to leave....”, you closed your eyes to avoid more tears to appear, but it was useless, you felt like falling and nobody was there to catch you. 

“I did nothing to you!”, Jisung snapped. You were being over dramatic and he wanted to explain himself, you always did that, you always were the victim and it made him boiled. 

“I hate that everything has to be about you and you being a crybaby makes me feel so bad”, he spoke one more time, watching you putting on a sweater. You were now doing the silent vote, Jisung knew what was coming next and he could avoid the impulsive force inside. 

“You’re so selfish… You act like you’re always right but right now,” the boy motion between him and his lover, “right now you’re making me feel like the villain when I would never-”

“Han, stop it”, you used that card, you knew that when you called him for his last name, it would end the argument. Jisung didn’t like being called like that by his girlfriend, you both were aware of the situation and the followed words were the ultimate knock out.

“I… I hate you so much…” tears run down Jisung’s cheeks, he was holding himself in front of you, he was ready to beg over and over again when things cool down but he never got the opportunity.

“I know…”, you finally said and you both never spoke again in the rest of the year.  

“I…”, your eyes itched with the phantom sensation of tears, however, there they were, wanting to dance by your cheeks like ballet dancers to be appreciated by your ex's eyes. 

“Y/N…”, Jisung whispered with red crystal eyes, a small sob was heard by your ears and you turned to look at the boy with wide eyes. You didn’t plan to see him crying, it was just words and then you'll leave. You took a deep breath and calmed your annoying heart for a little. 

“I hate it…”, you mumbled. 

“What?”, Jisung frowned and backed away a little.

“I.. I hate this”, you repeated and got closer to the boy. “I hate that, after a year, I hate that I don’t hate you." 

Jisung was dumbfounded, he expected everything but those words coming from the girl he still loved. He reached for your cheeks and his breathing sped up so much he started to feel dizzy from all the oxygen getting to his brain.

“It doesn’t matter what you do, Sungie, to me, nothing’s gonna change the fact that I’m still in love with you”, your tears caressed your skin while Jisung’s thumbs cleaned them with such fragility, he hadn't touched that skin for a year and he needed to take care as much as he could from that moment.

“I still love you too, baby… all the things you heard me saying meant that I love you, I love you so much…”, Jisung started to say as he kissed your face slowly. You smiled and grabbed the boy’s shoulders for a moment. 

“Minho told me everything a few months ago…”, you excused yourself hiding a shy smile. 

“What took you so long then?!”, Jisung scoffed and groaned as he cleaned his own tears from his cheeks. He was smiling dumbly like he did before, he had you with him and he couldn’t be happier.

“I was ashamed of the way I reacted, I ruined everything, didn’t I?”, you lowered your head and sighed, but Jisung made you stare at him. 

“Don’t think about that too much, okay, babe?”

You looked at each others eyes with such intensity that the world stopped around them, the waves, the flying pigeons, the kids on the beach playing, everything fell silent and it was beautiful having the love of your life between your arms.

“Jisung… the thing that I love the most is that I love that I don’t hate you and I don’t think I ever will…”, you broke the silence between you two and so, Jisung murmured a thousands I love you’s smacking his lips over and over again against yours.

Masterlist

A/N: this is my first individual fic! I hope you like it~.

[faewhump]

Unseelie Pet: 9. Chapter

Alex attempts to flee and Malachi realises that he’s been too soft on his pet.

Previous Masterlist Next

Content warnings: mentions of torture, isolation, starvation, victim blaming and self-blaming, captor bonding, dehumanisation

Tagging:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @whumpsideblog @frnkieroismydaddy @slaintetowhump @thewhiteraven73 @galaxywhump

It was a lovely summer day out in the forest, pleasantly cool in the shadow of the tall trees, the ground covered with lush moss and herbs, and the sounds of birds filled the air. Meanwhile, Alex was running for his life.

He had already lost one of the slippers but didn’t dare to stop for it, he couldn’t afford any delay. The trees and plants all looked the same to him, he only had a vague idea of where he was and deeply hoped that he had chosen the right direction. He just had to make it to the edge of the forest, once he managed that he’d be safe… His lungs were burning, and his legs began to tire, but he pushed on; it couldn’t be far now, just a little bit further, just a little, he could make it…

Suddenly a gnarled root shot up from the ground, catching his foot and bringing him to fall. He landed hard on his front, only just able to catch himself on his arms. Preparing himself to jump up and continue running he lifted his head – and froze. Ahead, only about fifty yards away, there was Malachi, slowly walking towards him, his expression furious.

Alex gasped, fear flooding his body, and tried to crawl backwards as quickly as possible, eyes locked upon Malachi, who was inexorably coming closer. He’d never seen the Fae this angry before and was utterly terrified, he clearly had crossed the line behind which he would be tortured.

“How dare you!” Malachi snarled, and it was not only fury that contorted his face.

The Fae’s glamour, which had so far been perfectly immaculate, slipped and Alex saw behind it for the first time.  The black of Malachi’s pupils had spread out to fill his entire eyes, his elegant fingers had become long and spindly and ended in dangerous looking claws, and behind him loomed a blurred shadow of what presumably were large, moth-like wings.

“How dare you!” Malachi repeated, and with horror Alex saw numerous sharp teeth flashing behind his lips. He didn’t know what to say, there was nothing he could say to make this any better, and Malachi didn’t seem like he wanted an explanation anyways. Alex trembled in fear, he’d already known that Malachi would look monstrous, but his glamour had always been so perfect, if it was slipping now, that was a very bad sign.

“I cannot believe that you would betray me like this!” Malachi hissed. “I saved your life, took you in, gave you nothing but luxury, cared for you lovingly, even allowed you to go outside out of pure graciousness – and how do you thank me? You kick my inexhaustible kindness with your feet, you keep attempting to leave, you lie and deceive… isn’t that right, Kieran?”

Alex winced at the way he spat out the fake name he’d given him, knowing fully-well that that trick wouldn’t work anymore.

“Clearly, you don’t appreciate my kindness enough, you ungrateful little wretch. I thought you were smart enough to know better, but now I realise that I have been way too soft on you. You finally need to be brought in line properly.”

Alex was frozen in fear on the ground as Malachi loomed over him. He couldn’t run, couldn’t move away and was unable to evade the fingertip Malachi pressed against his forehead. Everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again he found himself in dark cell. His nice clothes had disappeared, and in place of the high-quality fabric he now wore rough-spun trousers and a thin shirt. He shivered, it was quite cold and there was nothing between him and the damp stone floor. The cell measured only a few steps in every direction and was barely tall enough for him to stand in. Shivering more intensely he wrapped his arms around his body, this place reminded him way too much of his time with Rían.

At first he was glad to be generally unhurt, but he knew that it would probably only be a matter of time now until that changed. Malachi had been so angry, it made Alex’s flesh crawl just to think of it. His escape attempt had failed. He had waited until he’d been presented with the perfect opportunity and had been so close… but Malachi had caught him. Malachi. Malachi, who had drugged him, captured him, kept him prisoner, humiliated him, hurt him and now locked him in a cell, just like Rían had done…

Furious Alex jumped up and charged towards the heavy door, banging his fists against it.

“Malachi!” he shouted. “Malachi, you bastard, let me out! You can’t keep me locked up like this, let me out!”

Nothing happened.

“Hey! Didn’t you want to ‘bring me in line’? What are you waiting for?” he challenged. “Come on, I know you want to torture me!”

Silence.

After a couple of minutes he tried it again. “Don’t you want to make me your good pet?”

Still, nothing.

“Well, you can wait for that until hell freezes over, you ugly monster!” Alex shouted. “I will never be your pet! I hate you!”

After his words died away it was still again, the only sounds that broke the silence were his accelerated breathing and the slow drip of water. There was nothing he could do, and so he simply sat down again and waited. He had no way to measure the time and soon was unsure about how long he’d been sitting there, the only points of reference were his growing thirst and hunger.

He most have dozed off eventually, because he suddenly found himself crumpled on the cold floor. Shivering he pulled himself up and moved around as much as the small cell would allow, trying to warm his stiff limbs. His stomach rumbled loudly, making him wish he hadn’t thrown out his breakfast this morning. Or had it been this morning? He had no idea how much time had passed.

“Malachi! Where are you?” he shouted and banged against the door again. “Let me out of here! Hey! Malachi? Anyone? Can anybody hear me?”

He pressed his ear against the door to listen for any sign from the outside, but again there was no reply. Frustrated he stepped back and looked around. There was nothing in the cell besides the rough stone that surrounded it, and the image made his skin crawl. It was just like ten years ago. Eventually, he curled up in one of the corners, back pressed protectively against the walls, and waited.

Time passed. It was eerily silent and lonely, and slowly Alex began to wonder whether there even was anything to wait for. He wasn’t brought any food nor drink, and soon found himself forced to lick the dripping water off the damp walls. It tasted horribly stale and mouldy, but at least it would keep him from dying of thirst. He called for help, shouted insults at Malachi and screamed for hours until his voice gave out and he was certain that there truly was no soul that would ever hear him.

He grew weaker and weaker with the lack of food and the constant cold, sitting slumped against the wall, and drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn’t know whether he’d been in this cells for days or weeks, and at some point not even if he’d ever been somewhere else. With each passing moment it became harder and harder to resist the past taking over, until he wasn’t sure whether he’d ever gotten away from Rían at all.

Maybe he still was in his cell from that time, and everything about his flight had been nothing but a dream. Maybe he had merely fantasised about running away and everything that came after. Maybe he’d just made up his job at the inn, his friends, the mission given to him by the Seelie Court, the Fae who caught him…

No. No. Alex shook his head. Malachi was real. He couldn’t have made him up, he was real and so was the rest. He had escaped, he wasn’t still with Rían. Malachi was real, he had saved his life, gave him food, a luxurious room and clothes, and took care of him… Alex couldn’t have made him up, he was too beautiful… and he always touched him so very gently, and his praise had been so nice.

Alex remembered being angry about it before, but he couldn’t make sense of that feeling anymore. Right now he’d give everything to hear Malachi praise him again. His voice was so beautiful too, and he’d talked to him so kindly… but now he was all alone. Lonely, cold and hungry. And it was all his fault. He had been nothing but disobedient, rude and ungrateful. Maybe Malachi had already moved on to find someone better and just locked him away to starve to death.

Alex whimpered, tears filling his eyes. He didn’t want to die.

“M-m-Malachi?” he croaked; his throat was so dry. “Malachi, please. Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry.”

Shakily he attempted to stand up but only managed to get on his knees, he felt so weak.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I tried to run, please I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “You – You were right, I didn’t appreciate your kindness enough, I was so stupid and I’m s-sorry. Please – please don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I promise, I’ll behave and be good, please Malachi, please –“ 

He continued to cry and beg, promising the Fae anything if only he didn’t let him die. There was no reply. Eventually his voice gave out, and he crumpled back to the floor, shivering, and fell into an uneasy sleep. 

He awoke to the sensation of being gently put down on something soft. There were strong arms around him, and when he opened his eyes he saw the embroidered baldachin above his bed. The arms pulled back and Alex whimpered, he’d been alone for so long, he couldn’t be left again. He clung to the person next to the bed, panicking. 

“Shhh pet, it’s alright,” Malachi soothed and sat down next to him, brushing a hand over his head. 

Alex immediately grabbed the opportunity to wrap his arms tightly around Malachi’s middle and began to babble apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please I’m so sorry, please don’t sent me there again, please don’t, please I’ll be good –“

“Shhh, calm down, my sweet.” Malachi petted his hair. “I am so glad that you finally understood what I’ve been trying to teach you. I never like having to punish my darlings, but you made me.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please don’t send me there again,” Alex whined, unable to stop the hot tears from escaping. 

“Hush, sweetheart, there’s no need to make such a fuss. You never were there; it was just an illusion.” 

Alex blinked and slowly lifted his head to look at Malachi. “It wasn’t real?”

Malachi smiled down at him. “No, it wasn’t.” He picked a leaf out of Alex’s hair. “See? You still are dirty from your escape attempt.”

Alex was confused, it had felt so real, but apparently it hadn’t been… He hid his face against Malachi’s overcoat again and held him tightly, even if it hadn’t been real, he didn’t want to let go. 

“It – it felt so real, though,” Alex sobbed. “I – I was so cold and hungry and alone and so – so scared – I – I thought I would die; I was so scared.”

Malachi held him while he cried, rubbing soothing circles into his back and shushing him gently from time to time. Eventually, he let go and forced Alex to look up at him. 

“Have you learned your lesson, pet?” he asked sternly. 

Alex nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, I did – I won’t lie to you again or try to run, I promise, I’ll be good now, just please, please don’t –“

“Shhh, it’s alright.” Malachi pulled him close again. “I am so, so glad – I would never do such a horrible thing to you by choice, and if you’ll truly be as good as you promised, then it won’t be necessary again.”

Relieved Alex sunk against Malachi, still unwilling to let him go, and continued to cry softly. Luckily, Malachi didn’t seem to mind the tears staining his clothing and held Alex close against him, pressing gentle kisses onto his head from time to time. 

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #1: Fish

To say I wasn’t expecting an attack would be an understatement.

I was in my van, driving my oldest daughter to soccer practice.  (Why yes, I am a soccer mom.  I’m big enough to admit it.)  Natalie was supposed to be putting on her shin guards, but instead she was playing the Nintendo 3DS Arista had brought, on the grounds that technically it was her 3DS.  I believe Arista’s was out of battery, although it was the kind of detail I try not to pay too much attention to.  Arista, of course, had whined about this for ten minutes straight.  “It’s not fair!  I brought that 3DS!  You said you’d let me play!  Mommm, Natalie won’t let me play!”  And so on. This was partially, though not fully, drowned out by the sound of Theo singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” loudly, enthusiastically, off-key and with half the words made up, for what may well have been the tenth time in a row.

“Mom!  Make Theo be quiet.  I can’t concentrate!”

“Just give me back the 3DS! You aren’t even supposed to be playing it!”

“—itsy bitsy spider, gob up the stop again, itsy bitsy spider went on the bo bo bot, so wong go the dwain and it quash the spider out—“

“That isn’t even how it goes, Theo.  It goes ‘Itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout—'“

“If you’re just gonna sing to Theo you can give me back the game.  Mommm, she isn’t even playing it and she won’t give it back!”

“I’m sing it, Natwee!  I’m sing it my way!”

“Yeah, well your way is wrong, cause you’re a baby.”

“ITSY BITSY NATWEE, CAN’T SING THE SPIDER SONG, CAUSE THEO IS SING IT LA DA DOO DOO LA LA—“

“Come on! Let me play!”

With all this going on, I had no hope of getting back enough of my own concentration to change lanes, so I had been stuck behind a car carrier lugging SUVs for the past ten minutes.  I hated being behind large trucks; they block my view of the rest of the road.  And here I was with nothing in the CD player but Gary’s smooth jazz, when plainly I needed death metal to drown this out.  I’d have given my pinky finger to be able to put on the radio, but radio and I did not get along.

As if to underscore this, a sudden burst of static cut through the horn solo.  I frowned, wondering if I’d gotten mixed up and this was the radio after all.

“Hey, cool!” Arista said, having apparently found something worthy of distracting her from her quest to recover the 3DS.  “My mood ring is red.  Mom, what’s it mean when your mood ring goes red?”

I went cold, and glanced at my own left hand on the steering wheel.  The stone in my ring, normally opal, had turned obsidian black.

I glanced back up to see the top SUV on the car carrier starting to slide.

“Aspída!” I shouted, having no time to do anything more complex than that.  Then I spun the wheel and swerved wildly onto the right shoulder, scraping the jersey wall, as the SUV slid off the carrier’s ramp and came careening down at us.

Distantly I was aware of my kids screaming, but all my attention was on surviving this. The SUV slammed into the shield I had just cast and bounced into traffic, making the car shudder. The small truck that had been behind me struck the SUV, sending it spinning across the road. Meanwhile I’d slammed hard on my brakes, coming to a full stop about twenty feet away from where the SUV ending up crashing into the jersey wall ahead of me. The small truck pulled over, in front of the SUV. The car carrier continued blithely on into the distance.

At least they hadn’t all fallen. That would have been a lot harder to deal with. I could have done it, but I would not have liked to explain it to the kids.

“Mom! Mom! What was that? What happened?” Natalie screamed.  Theo was crying hysterically, and Arista was gasping, hyperventilating.

I turned around in my seat. “Arista! Inhaler, now! Natalie, help her grab it!” I wanted to unbuckle, to go take Theo into my arms and calm him, to grab Arista’s inhaler and give it to her, but I didn’t dare. My ring was still black; Arista and Natalie’s rings were still both red.

The guy who’d been driving the small truck was coming toward me, walking along the shoulder, and he looked furious. Of course, from any reasonable human being’s perspective, I’d had nothing to do with the SUV that had fallen off the car carrier and smashed into his car, but with my ring black I didn’t dare assume he was a reasonable human being. I’d read enough about road rage incidents in the paper; I had to assume he had a gun.

I threw the car into reverse and drove backward as quickly as I dared, which was a lot slower than the cars zipping past me on the highway were going, but a lot faster than one dude walking on the shoulder. He began running toward me. “Katev̱odó̱no̱,” I whispered, shoved the gearshift into drive, and pulled out onto the highway, lurching from 0 to 60 in three seconds and slamming myself and my children back against our seats. The car behind me laid on the horn – I’d cut it off. “Sorry,” I said, more to myself than to the driver who obviously couldn’t hear me, but now I was back up to full highway speed, weaving in and out of traffic so that neither the guy I’d just cut off nor the driver of the small truck could catch up with me.

I pulled off the highway at the first exit that came up, watching as my ring dulled to a grayish opalescent color. We weren’t safe, but we weren’t in deadly danger either.

Arista’s breathing was normal again. Theo was still crying. “Mom, where are we going?” Natalie asked. “Don’t I have to get to practice?”

“You’re skipping practice today, Nally.” She used to call herself that. She couldn’t get the middle syllable of her own name, so she was Nally. Nowadays she usually rolls her eyes when I call her that, but this time, she didn’t. I could see her face in my rear view mirror; she was pale and shaken.

“Because we just had an accident?”

“We didn’t have an accident,” Arista said. “We almost had an accident.”

“Right,” I said. “We’re going home, and we’re going to eat ice cream and we’re going to relax.”

“Ice cream?” Theo asked, his sobs becoming weaker and less pronounced.

“Yep! Who wants an ice cream soda, who wants a milkshake and who wants a sundae?”

Kids are sometimes very easy to bribe. Though I suspected that Natalie was letting herself be bribed rather than challenging me. She knew something weird had just happened, but she didn’t want to ask me what, or perhaps didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Another old terror raised its head. What if she was like me? What if all of them were? What if they could use magic?

I shook my head to banish the thought. No one had found us. No one had sent either of them an invitation to school. Natalie was 12, Arista was 10… they were old enough that they could have gotten invitations by now. I’d gotten mine when I was 9, though my parents hadn’t been persuaded to send me to a boarding school until I was 13.

I’d wanted to go. I’d begged for it. I’d wanted to learn magic so, so badly.

I couldn’t even remember how that had felt, now.

 ***

When we got home, I put the girls in charge of getting the ice cream, the Coke, the sundae fixings, the milk and the blender out, and Theo in charge of washing his hands, going to the bathroom, changing his clothes and washing up. He’d been potty trained for nearly a year, but I’d nearly peed myself during the almost-accident; I could hardly hold it against a little boy that he’d wet his pants. Theo was obviously very embarrassed by it, though, so I didn’t acknowledge that he’d done so, just gave him the opportunity to wash himself up and change to save face.

I went straight downstairs to my fish tanks in the basement.

The filters didn’t hum. The tank lights weren’t on. The room smelled like ozone and smoke. At least one of the surge suppressors that ran my tank filters and lights was blackened. And every single fish in all four of my tanks was floating on top of their water, dead.

The opal on my ring was still dark grey.

In Homeric Greek – the language I cast spells in, though this wasn’t a spell – I said softly, “Brave heroes, I commend your souls to the Elysian Fields. The gods will honor you.” I didn’t actually think the ancient Greeks had believed fish would go to the Elysian Fields, but then, I also didn’t actually believe in the Elysian Fields, or the later Christian version, Heaven. If humans had souls – and they might, I’d seen Jason so many times I found it hard to believe that all of him could literally be gone, forever – then fish could as well, maybe. These fish hadn’t exactly volunteered to die to save my family, but they’d been feeder goldfish, destined for the belly of a pet predator or an agonizing, choking death due to high ammonia levels and lack of oxygen from the overcrowding in the feeder tanks. I’d given them a better, longer life than they could otherwise have hoped for.

Whatever had killed them, I hoped it had been fast. It looked like some kind of electrical short, maybe. A month ago one of those had taken out all the fish in tank four; I’d replaced the filter, and the surge protector, and the GFCI outlet the surge protector was plugged into, but when magic is targeting you, all of the sane and reasonable precautions you can take may end up coming to nothing. The fish had died because I’d bound them to my family and enchanted them to take on our bad luck. Most of the time, that meant fish died one by one over a period of months, as all of the normal bad luck that might occur to a family just failed to happen – my kids never got scraped knees, our cars never broke down, Gary made it through every round of layoffs at his company, none of us ever got sick.

When the fish started dying fairly rapidly last month, starting with the electrical short, the stone in my ring had been purple – not white opal, not the gray it was right now, not the black it had turned on the highway. I’d put more fish into service and it had faded to white. The fish had been doing reasonably well; I’d thought the danger was over.

But today all of them were dead. And I didn’t dare go out and get more; whatever malevolent spell had targeted me and my family would work a lot more effectively outside the shields I had around the house. Petco would ship me fancy fish, but not feeders. Which meant firstly that it would cost a lot more money to put more fish into service, secondly that I wouldn’t be able to leave the house again until tomorrow when the fish arrived (and what would I do about the girls going to school? They couldn’t leave either, and I couldn’t explain to them or to Gary why not.) And thirdly, that the girls, and Gary, would see the change, think I was taking Gary’s advice about getting nicer fish who could actually serve as pets, and they’d be horribly disappointed when the fish died.

Maybe I could have two layers of fish, I thought. Pet fish upstairs and feeders down here. Order neon tetras and a tank for overnight delivery, set them up, go out and buy more feeders as soon as I had the neons in service.

The thought flickered through my mind that I could buy feeder mice instead. Mammals are stronger and have more life force, and more resistance to malevolent magic. Feeder mice were in the same position as feeder goldfish – they were destined to die. I’d just be giving them a good life before it happened.

But my children would get attached to the mice. Would give them names. Would cry when they died.

I closed my eyes. I needed more power to protect the family than I had at the moment. I’d given up so much of it for my anonymity and my family’s safety, back before I’d even met Gary, when the only family I’d had to protect were my parents.

To get it back, to protect them now, I’d have to break some old compacts. But those old compacts weren’t working well enough anyway, obviously, if someone was targeting me.

“Moommm! We’re ready!” Arista yelled down the stairs.

“I’m coming,” I said, and headed up. I’d deal with the magic later. Right now, I’d promised my kids ice cream, to distract them from near-death and any weirdness they’d observed, and as both a magus and a mother, I’d learned to keep my promises.

***

This is a piece from a WIP “Not Even Past”, about a former child mage student who had to save the world with her group of friends, all of whom died except her. She left the world of magic behind and became a soccer mom. But now the world of magic is coming back for her.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Lost Boy (Chapter 4: The Past)

Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.

Prologue

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Tag list: @delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping, @mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath, @mirrorslover,@opatrickr, @justkimberley, @burning-hot-pan, @green-lemonboys, @anotherangelfromspace, @thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle, @thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash

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

David Bowie’s “Changes” was playing loudly from the speakers. The Red Rooster wasn’t quite as crowded since it was a weekday, just a couple of adults examining the instruments and a few kids browsing through the stuff or playing with the instruments.

Bobbing his head along to the music, T.J. flipped through the records nonchalantly. On the opposite side of the rack, Andi was prattling on and on about Art Club and all her ideas to contribute. T.J. had to smile at her enthusiasm – the girl had a way of easing his tension.

Cyrus was right about her – she was a sweet one.

“So, how’s adjusting to Shadyside life?” she randomly asked. “Have you fully embraced our little town?”

T.J. hummed. “A small town has pros and cons.”

“What’s a pro?”

“Everyone knows everyone so we’ve had a new visitor almost everyday, welcoming us to the neighborhood and bringing food. Mom has taken a break from cooking.”

“That sounds nice! And a con?”

T.J. made a face. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Andi laughed, shaking her head. “You get used to it. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

She didn’t realize it but it was the opening T.J. needed. “So…you’ve probably grown up with almost everyone at Grant, then?”

“Pretty much.”

“So…who else do you hang out with? Aside from Libby and Walker.”

Libby and Walker were Andi’s art club friends – she introduced them to T.J. a few days ago. Libby was deaf but, like Andi, she could make headbands, jewelry, and clothing out of anything she could get her hands on. Meanwhile, Walker was a happy-go-lucky painter and caricaturist.

The three of them together were a walking art machine. So, it made T.J. wonder where Buffy and Cyrus fell in before the latter passed away.

“Jonah Beck and I hang out sometimes,” she casually stated.

T.J. knew him – he was in his English class. He was a pretty dude, but not really T.J.’s type.

“And…” she trailed off, her earlier beaming smile turning sad.

“And?” T.J. prodded, hoping he wasn’t being too annoying.

Andi cleared her throat. “And there’s my best friend Buffy.” She didn’t mention Cyrus, at all. “But we haven’t really hung out in a while. She’s been busy pursuing other things and so have I.”

“Oh, okay.” T.J. racked his brains for something else to say. “Oh yeah, tomorrow is basketball tryouts. Honestly, I’m kinda nervous.”

Andi flashed him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Uh… do you want to come and watch? For moral support? I could use it.”

Sure, he could always ask Amber but he needed Andi there. It was important.

Without missing a beat, Andi nodded. “Sure! I’ll be there!”

“Great! Thanks, Andi. That means a lot.”

“Anytime!” She looked down and grinned. Pulling out a Cyndi Lauper record, she covered her face with it. “Do I look like a girl who just wants to have fun?”

T.J. laughed. “Totally.”

…….

T.J. felt him before he heard him.

“Hey, Sixth Sense.”

Chuckling as he looked up from his homework. “I think you’re running out of nicknames, Ghost Boy.”

Cyrus beamed from where he sat, perched on T.J.’s desk, as always. Thus, the latter had chosen to do his homework on his bed, instead.

“So, how was your day?” the ghost asked.

“Pretty good. I hung out with your friend Andi after school. She’s fun.”

“Told ya!”

He answered the last question on his History homework before shutting his notebook and textbook and moving them to the side. He locked gazes with Cyrus.

“Where do you go when you’re not here?” T.J. asked, curiously.

“Oh. Just around.”

A simple and straightforward answer. But, it still left a lot of questions.

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been living together for pretty much two weeks now. You can drop the whole mysterious act.”

“Maybe I wanna keep on being mysterious,” Cyrus replied, looking smug.

T.J. opened his mouth to answer but a knock on his door interrupted.

“It’s open!” he called out.

The door cracked a smidge and Amber poked her pretty blonde head in. 

“Are you talking to someone in here?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

T.J. flashed a look at where Cyrus was before meeting his sister’s eyes.

She turned pale. “Oh.”

Even though he had already explained to her that Cyrus was a good ghost and had no intention of hurting her, she still wasn’t fond of the idea of there being a ghost in their house, at all. She rarely ever went to T.J.’s room because of this.

“Well… uh… Mom will probably be home soon and if she hears you talking to yourself, she’ll think you’ve gone nuts.”

T.J. hummed. “Pretty sure we’re past that.”

“T.J.,” Amber seethed. “She thought you were doing drugs when she saw you talking to yourself last year!”

“And I told her I’m clean now.”

“You never did drugs to begin with!”

T.J. spared a look in Cyrus’ direction just to see his eyes wide in rapt attention.

Great. He was definitely going to get questions now. Maybe he could distract him. The boy was easily distracted by one thing or another. He was probably the type who never held grudges when he was alive.

“Look, the walls here are not paper thin like the apartment,” T.J. explained. “So, there’s no way she’ll hear. And her room is on the other side of the house. I’ll be fine. And I’m careful.”

Amber still didn’t look convinced but nonetheless, she nodded. Taking one last nervous look around the room, she swallowed.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back to my room. And… make sure it doesn’t follow me?”

Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “Tell her I have no intention of doing so. I’m a gentleman.”

T.J.’s lips twitched. “He won’t follow you. Don’t worry.”

Amber nodded again before quickly pulling her head back and closing the door.

“Your sister is very… paranoid,” Cyrus stated.

T.J. sighed. “She doesn’t have the best experience with ghosts.”

Cyrus nodded, sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

He was about to say “no” but paused, considering the idea.

No one else knew about the story – only him and Amber. He knew she still had nightmares about it. That memory would even make its way into his dreams and he would wake up sweating with his heart thumping so hard that it hurt. Always – for a brief moment – he would be back in that room in their apartment in San Francisco.

Cyrus was suddenly gone from the desk.

“I was raised by four psychologists,” his voice spoke right next to T.J. 

The blonde almost jumped ten feet into the air. “Dude! You’ve got to stop doing that! Just walk towards me!”

Cyrus laughed. “Sorry! I haven’t considered that you might be startled by that. I’m just so used to doing it and no one really reacting. But, I’ll try to stop, I promise.”

T.J. huffed. “You better. What if I get a heart attack and drop dead right here? I’ll haunt you forever.”

“We’ll be ghost buddies, then! Together for all eternity!”

T.J.’s cheeks burned and his heart skipped a beat. That was not the answer he expected. 

Cyrus’ laugh diminished to a soft smile. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, it might make you feel better. And, like I said, I was raised by four psychologists. Well, three psychologists and a life coach, but same deal. So, I’m a pretty good listener. I’m here if you need me.”

It was kind of funny how Cyrus could go from extremely comical to touchingly sweet, all in a span of ten seconds.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.” T.J. scraped his nails against one jean-covered knee. “It’s just not the most pleasant memory. And only Amber and I really know about it. Mom…she doesn’t know everything that happened. She doesn’t know about my abilities, at all, and…”

“That’s why she thought you were doing drugs?”

T.J. let out a chuckle devoid of humor. “I should have been more vigilant.” He let out a deep breath. “Anyway… what happened… well… Remember when I told you I started seeing my grandma’s ghost when I was 6?”

Cyrus nodded.

“Well, she wasn’t the only ghost in our apartment.”

The image of a little girl, her hair in pigtails and wearing a long pink dress, floated in his mind.

“Her name was Emily. She was around 6 when she died. Probably why she latched on to me because we were the same age. I didn’t mind playing with her and all. And she was kinda fun.” He chuckled. “Mom thought I had an imaginary friend.”

He was silent for a moment, recalling every moment with Emily. Meeting her. Agreeing to be her friend. Playing with her. Being happy that he had a secret friend that no one else knew about.

“Amber is only a year older than me, so it’s normal for us to get into fights. We fought a lot when we were kids. And, Emily… she didn’t like that. She was really protective of me.”

“O-Oh…” Cyrus’ voice was shaky but he was paying close attention.

T.J. let out another breath.

“Well, one day, Amber and I were fighting. I don’t even remember what the fight was about but she was really mad. And when Amber was mad, she got physical. She pushed me and tried to pull all my hair out. After mom broke up the fight, she put us in different rooms. I was in the living room and Amber was in our bedroom.”

He swallowed as he tried to steady his shaking hands.

“I was watching T.V. when I heard Amber scream. At first, I thought she just saw a bug or something and I didn’t really bother to check for a while. Then… she called for me.”

“T.J.! T.J.! Help me!”

“I ran into the room and I saw her... dangling out the window. She said she fell but… I saw Emily next to the window, just watching her and...smiling”

“What did you do?!”

“She was mean to you!”

“She’s my sister! Amber!”

“I tried to pull her up but I was only 6. I thought she was going to fall.”

“Oh my god…” Cyrus whispered, looking horrified.

T.J. bit his lip.

“T.J.! Help me! Help me! T.J.!”

“Luckily, mom came back from the laundry room and saw us. She pulled Amber in. She wouldn’t stop crying. And Emily was angry that it didn’t go the way she wanted. That was the first time I saw her like that. So… sinister and malevolent.”

“So… you told Amber about Emily?” Cyrus asked.

“Not at first. I wanted to keep it to myself. But, she kept asking me who I was talking to, wouldn’t stop annoying me. She even threatened to throw my basketball out the window. So, I finally did. She didn’t believe me at first, called me a liar and everything. But, then, Emily started playing pranks on her. She would take Amber’s toys and move them. She would pull on Amber’s hair. Once she…” He swallowed. “She dunked her head under the water while Amber was taking a bath.”

“Oh my god,” Cyrus repeated.

“After the bathtub incident, Amber finally believed me. She refused to sleep in our room. It came to the point where she would cry and throw tantrums until Mom finally swapped rooms with us. And I was mad at Emily. Yelled at her until I cried. So…ever since, I was afraid of her and every ghost I saw. I pretended I didn’t see them and I started ignoring Emily and my grandma.”

His Nana wasn’t happy, he often caught her looking sad when he would ignore her. She had tried talking to him but he would leave the room or stick headphones in his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen.

“I only started helping ghosts when I turned 8,” T.J. continued. “My grandma…once I finally decided to start talking to her again… she told me it was an inherited ability. She had it and her mom and grandfather had it. It skips a generation now and then so mom didn’t inherit it. Neither did Amber. But…I did. Lucky me, I guess? And then… Nana disappeared. She had moved on. Her unfinished business was to tell me the truth. I just never gave her the chance until then.”

Meanwhile, the ghost girl, Emily… she was devastated that she had lost her only friend. She had tried to apologize but T.J. never really forgave her, especially when Amber started getting nightmares.

She never blamed him for what happened. But, T.J. did. That was why he resolved to protect his sister as much as he could.

Letting out a staggered breath, he tried holding back tears. “Sorry… that was a lot to dump on you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “But… you’re right… it kind of made me feel better.” He smiled, lightly. “Thanks.”

Cyrus returned the smile. “You’re welcome,” he replied.

Silence fell over them.

T.J. drummed his fingers against his knee. Amber didn’t want to be reminded of what happened so they pretended it never did. He thought he was over it. Maybe he truly wasn’t. 

But, the heaviness in his chest had lifted a little. It felt good talking about it, a release he never knew he needed.

Cyrus’ hands were clasped together on his lap, biting his lip. He seemed to be contemplating something.

“Um…I just walk around town, visiting places I used to frequent. Sometimes, I go see my parents. They moved somewhere else but they’re still in town. I guess the house, this house and the other one, reminded them too much of me. I’m their only son, you see. So...my loss must have been too much for them.”

T.J. stared.

Cyrus shrugged. “You asked me earlier where I go when I’m not here. I figured since you shared something with me, I could share something with you. So, I guess we’re both a little less mysterious now. Too bad, I was going to look out the window and look distant.”

Laughter exploded out of T.J.’s mouth – a genuine laugh, this time. He felt lighter, somehow. Maybe Cyrus wasn’t a ghost. Maybe he was a magician or a wizard or something. 

How did he manage to relieve T.J. of his burden for the last eight or so years of his life with just a few words?

Cyrus flashed him a weirded out look, his fuzzy eyebrows scrunched.

He looked like a cute puppy.

Clearing his throat, T.J. scooted a few inches away from Cyrus.

“So, I have a plan for your friends.”

The sudden change in subject appeared to confuse the ghost but he went along with it.

“I’m listening.”

“So, tomorrow is basketball tryouts, right? Well, turns out both the boys and girls teams are doing it together. And Buffy told me she was trying out. So, I asked Andi to come and watch. They are likely to run into each other and since they don’t know that I know the other, I’m bound to try and ‘introduce’ them, only for them to tell me they already know each other and then they’ll start talking again.”

Cyrus looked impressed. “Your plan is so simple yet it could actually work.”

T.J. beamed. “Right? I’m a genius!”

The other boy chuckled. “Thank you, T.J. You didn’t have to do this for me and yet you are. I’ll forever be in your debt.”

Feeling his cheeks redden, T.J. just waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s no big deal. This is nothing compared to what I’ve done for other ghosts. You just want your friends to get along again.”

“Yeah. They’re just… really important to me. And I don’t want to move on without them getting along again.”

Cyrus’ demeanor deflated a little. T.J. noticed that it happened often when they spoke about his friends. But, if they are Cyrus’ unfinished business, then there was no avoiding talking about it.

He really loved his friends. And based on Andi’s sadness when something seemed to remind her of Cyrus, it appeared that they must have loved him a lot, too.

And, then, T.J. wondered what it was like when Cyrus was alive. After getting to know him, T.J. knew that he was the type of person who didn’t deserve to die. He deserved to live and spread love and joy everywhere he went.

What if T.J.’s family had moved just a year earlier? What if he had met Cyrus and became his friend? What if he could have somehow helped prevent him from dying?

The last thought was a little far-fetched. He didn’t even know how Cyrus died. He wouldn’t tell T.J.

There were just some things in this world that could not be controlled, no matter how much you want to.

Still, T.J. couldn’t help but wonder.

“Do you ever think about…” he began.

He met Cyrus’ questioning eyes.

“You know…” he continued. He coughed a little and cleared his throat. “If you were alive, right now, do you think… we could have been friends, too?”

“Of course!” Cyrus beamed. “No doubt about it! I mean…” He chewed on his bottom lip, looking shy all of a sudden. “We’re friends now, right?”

Sparkling brown eyes peeked worriedly at him from under long lashes.

T.J.’s heart suddenly picked up pace as his throat went dry and his palms got all sweaty.

“Yeah… We’re friends,” he managed, his lips twitching.

Cyrus breathed in relief.

Getting to his feet, T.J. stretched. “So… do you wanna watch a movie or something? I have Netflix.”

“Don’t you have to finish your homework?”

He walked over to his desk where he left his laptop. “I can do it later.”

“T.J.” Cyrus’ tone was scolding.

“Cyrus,” T.J. retorted, teasingly.

The ghost boy looked torn, chewing on his lip as he looked from T.J.’s abandoned books and notebooks on the bed to the laptop and then back to the stuff on the bed.

“I promise to do it tonight. I’ll even let you check my answers, if you want.”

That seemed to set Cyrus’ mind. “Okay.”

Grinning that he got his way, T.J. picked up his laptop and went back to his bed. He settled against the headboard, pushing books, notebooks, and pens aside. He patted the space next to him and Cyrus disappeared and reappeared next to him (he was prepared this time so he didn’t even flinch).

He opened up Netflix and scrolled through the choices. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything is fine. You pick.”

T.J. was in the mood for seeing animated and fun so he chose “Big Hero 6”. For the hour and a half or so, they were silent as they concentrated on the movie. Cyrus did cry a bit loudly at the beginning during the school fire scene (T.J. had wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his shoulder until the scene passed), but otherwise, neither of them spoke a word.

It was nice.

Back in San Francisco, T.J. never got to have a movie night with his friends. If you could even call them friends, that is. They were just people he hung out with at school but never really had a deep friendship with. He mostly stuck with Amber (to his sister’s chagrin) or spent his free time by himself. A few ghosts have tried to befriend him but, usually, they had ulterior motives.

After dinner, he fulfilled his promise to Cyrus by sitting at his desk and doing his homework.

The ghost entertained himself by playing with T.J.’s little plastic basketball, attempting to shoot at the net on the door from various angles. 

It was adorable, really. And, kind of distracting.

“Need help with that?” T.J. asked, amused as the plastic ball bounced off the edge for the tenth time.

“No, I got this,” Cyrus replied, stubbornly. “You finish your homework.”

T.J. chuckled. “Yes, mom.”

The ghost childishly stuck his tongue out at him before returning to his little game.

T.J. turned his attention back on his homework.

The rest of the night was peaceful.

It was nice.

…………

T.J. was among ten other boys trying out for the boys’ basketball team. 

As he warmed up with a few dribbles, he kept his gaze on the girls gathered on the opposite side of the gym, trying to spot a familiar head of curls.

“T.J.!”

His head spun around at the call. 

Andi and Libby were standing by the bleachers, waving at him, both sporting matching grins. T.J. waved back and watched as the two girls made their way up to find seats. He went back to dribbling, still keeping his eye out for Buffy.

He didn’t have to wait long. The doors to the locker room opened and out she came, head held high with confidence. Beside her was a brunette boy, talking as he nudged her shoulder. Laughing, she nudged back at him.

T.J. watched fascinated as the two appeared to banter back and forth before they split – the boy heading towards the boys’ side and Buffy for the girls’.

The blonde looked up at the bleachers again to see if Andi had noticed Buffy. The pixie-haired girl was distractedly conversing with Libby.

Good. He could make this work, somehow. He just had to figure out how to get them to talk to each other.

A whistle blew and he pulled his attention away from the two girls. The coaches were calling everyone over.

It was showtime.

[jungshookz]

I don’t really know if you take requests or not, but I think I have a cute idea I’d like to share! Maybe like, new puppy owner Y/N and pet shop employee Taehyung!

→ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

→ genre: petshopemployee!au, the cuTEST GOLDEN RETRIEVER PUPPY evER and it belongs to you now!!, an extra biG serving of fluff, u and tae r so shy it’s adorable

→ wordcount: 3.2k

(gif isn’t mine!)

what the hell are you doing here

out of all the places you could be on a sunday morning (aka in your nice warm bed) you are at… a pet store???

okay

here’s the backstory

you’ve been feeling pretty lonely lately (your ex broke up with you a month ago and it’s been diffiCuLT to say the least)

he said something about how you were holding him back and the spark is gone because you’re so busy with school and your job and blah blah blah all you remember is throwing your drink on him and storming out of the restaurant

it’s fine

he was a dick anyway!! you deserve better

but you’re not used to being.,,. alone

the apartment is just so quiet

you’re trying to get used to sleeping in the middle of your queen-sized bed again but somehow you always shift over to the right side of the bed because that’s your side

it’s been your side for the past four years

things are just different now

and sure you have your friends and stuff to hang out with (namjoon asked if you wanted to go out yesterday night with him and the rest of the boys but you turned him down because you were too busy throwing your own pity party) but it’s just not the same u kno

so that’s why you’re here now

at a pet shop

because you feel like getting a pet will help with the whole being lonely thing!! and also you’ve always wanted a pet so this will be great (when you were younger you had a goldfish one day you came home from school and kevin was on the floor because he juMPED OUT OF HIS TANK RIP kevin)  

you kind of have an idea of what kind of pet you want

you definitely want something small

something low-maintenance since you’ll be busy at school

maybe like a hermit crab or something

a hamster? the constant running on the wheel would probably drive you insane

maybe a bird? but what if it flies out the window

a goldfish would bring back the painful memories of kevin so that’s going to be a HARd pass

and then

you see it

the gates of heaven

a pUPPY PIT

A WHOLE PIT OF PUPPIES

GO L DEN RETRIEVER PUPP IE S

you gasp and immediately turn away from the lovebird you were just looking at and the lovebird squawks like fuCK me i guESS

“oh my god” you whine quietly when all the puppies start running up to you as you stand in front of the pit

they’re all yipping and barking and getting up on their hind legs to try to get closer to you

sO CUTE

“hi! are you thinking about taking one of these guys home with you today?”

you turn around to-

oh

oh my

your eyes flicker down to the employee’s name tag

‘taehyung’

you look back up at him

he might be cuter than the puppies

he smiles at you and tilts his head

oH he is DEFInitely cuter than the puppies

“oh! uh…”

girl

you can barely take care of yourself how the hell r u going to take care of a puppy

just tell taehyung no and ask him about pets that are easy to take care of

oH BUT LOOK AT THEIR WIDDLE PAWS AND THE CUTE LITTLE SNOOT ARE U KIDDING ME

and if you don’t take one of them home whO WILL

oh my god y/n

think this through

you don’t have space for a puppy

but you can MAKE space

puppies are expensive

but you can MAKE monEY

puppies need a lot of love and attention and affection and-

buT YOU HAVE A LOT OF LOVE AND ATTENTION AND AFFECTION TO GIVE

y/n no

y/n yes

y/n no

y/n yES

y/N N-

“yes! yes i am” you clear your throat before reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

oh man

it’s like you don’t even know how to interact with boys anymore

it’s okaY just go with the flow it’s not a big deal

everything’s chill

super cool

don’t be weird

please don’t be weird

“oh, that’s great!!!” he gasps and claps his hand together “are you a first time puppy owner?”

you nod excitedly and look down at the puppies yipping for your attention

“well, we should probably hook you up with the basics before you get the puppy part, hm? follow me!”

wha

wait what

waIT BUT THE PUPPIES

taehyung notices your hesitation and he raises a brow “this’ll only take like ten minutes, miss. fifteen minutes tops. c’mon!” he gestures for you to follow him before pulling out a cart by the counter

“so, what made you decide to get a puppy, if you don’t mind me asking?” taehyung starts picking up things here and there for you as the two of you wheel your way down the aisles

“well, i’ve always wanted a dog and now that i’m-“ oOF okay you’re not going to tell this cute stranger about your failed relationship

let’s not go there

maybe some other time!! “uh… now that i…. have a bigger apartment i decided i could fill up some space with a puppy!” you shrug and pluck a little mustard yellow harness from the shelf

you heard that harnesses are better because leashes can choke ur doggo and you don’t want to choke your doggo

plus a tiny harness on a tiny puppy cOMe on

“oH..,.,. my god,.,.” your heart basically stops in your chest when you spot the cutest pair of yellow rainboots with a matching raincoat

…yeah you’re getting those too

you don’t even care if you spenD like $1000 here (okay you’d care just a liTtle bit because u don’t even spend that much on urself)

meanwhile taehyung’s talking to you about how often you should take the dog out and how much to feed it and how much exercise it needs and how you need to put down puppy pee pads and you need to puppy-proof your house there’s just a loT of p’s flying around right now

yes you appreciate him for doing his job throughly but you can barely focus on what he’s saying because you’re picking out a bed and a little blankie and pillow and toyS and a food bowl and a water bowl and-

“whichever pup you end up choosing is going to be very lucky” taehyung chuckles as you duMP a whole load of treats into the cart and you look down at everything you’ve picked out before flashing him a sheepish smile

“think i’m getting a bit ahead of myself?”

“you probably don’t need-“ he pauses and looks down at the cart “-three full sized bags of carob-chip dog cookies? or four different pairs of rain boots??”

“oH but look how cuTE-“

usually taehyung would be aLL for the customer going crazy because that means he gets more commission but u seem really nice and just really excited and he doesn’t want u wasting your money on things you don’t need

the puppy itself is going to cost a good chunk of money so there’s that

“i think we’re all good to go!” tae sighs as he puts the last of your family-sized food bags back onto the shelf

he turns and grins at you “how about i bring all this stuff over to the front counter and i meet you by the puppy pit?”

fINALLY

FINALLY THE PUPPY PIT

you nod excitedly and ziP off towards the puppy pit and almost immediately the barking intensifies at your presence

you drop to your knees in front of the gate and stick your hand through the gaps between the bars and giggle when the pups start licking at your fingers (probably because u were touching dog cookies earlier because they looked like humaN cookies and you were about to treat urself to one but tae stopped you before you inhaled it)

“okay, which one of you wants to come home with me!!!!!” you squeal excitedly when tae finally comes around and unlocks the gate for you and you drop to your butt

you coo when a majority of the puppies start clambering over each other to get to you

you really are in heaven

this was a greAT way to spend your sunday morning

good job sad and lonely y/n!!!!!! (oof)

“oOH i can’t decide i wanna take them all home” you sigh and lean back against your palms and tae can’t help but laugh before taking a seat across from you

“yeah, it’s definitely going to be a difficult decision. i remember when i was choosing my dog it took me like three whole hours to finally say ‘okay, i’m choosing thiS one’”

“oh, you have a dog?”

“mhm! a pomeranian. his name is yeontan, but i call him tannie. he was supEr duper tiny when…” you don’t mean to be rude and space out while taehyung’s telling you about his dog but like,..,,. he’s just.,.,. so beautiful.,,

his soft, dark brown hair

his jawline and his cheekbones and his strong eyebrows and his sparkling eyes and his boxy grin and woW god really spent time on him because he is so,.,.., so handsome.,.,.,

maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself

just because you’re lonely doesn’t mean you should go and juMP on the first guy that’s nice to you

maybe tae’s not actually thAt handsome and it’s just your sadness and desperation making you thiNK he’s handsome (no this is a complete lie even if you weren’t sad and desperate and lonely you would know that tae is very vERY attractive)

and what makes you think tae might be interested in you??? he’s literally only being nice because that’s his joB

you deflate a little bit at your own pessimistic thoughts and bring your attention back to the pups

taehyung is fully aware of the fact that he’s blabbering

but he can’t help it

he blabbers when he’s nervous!!!!! and right now he is vERy nervous because there is a very pretty girl sitting across from him and he hasn’t made a move on someone in so long so he’s reaLLy really out of the groove of things

is he talking too much about yeontan???? is he not talking enouGH about yeontan?? should he have let you keep those 4 pairs of rain boots and 3 bags of treats??? he doesn’t know!!!!! aHHHHH!!!!!!!!

also he doesn’t want there to be any awkward silence if he stopped talking so that’s why he’s keeping his mouth running and running and running and ruNNing-

“hey, buddy~ do you wanna come home with me?” you coo and lift up the puppy that’s calmly stuck by your side the entire time

he pokes his lil tongue out and you grin “what do you say?”

he yips and leans in to lick your nose

you feel an insTANT connection

you turn the puppy around so that he’s facing tae

and tae can’t help but laugh at the sight of you just holding the puppy like that

his legs are just dangling in midair but his tail is still wagging a mile a minute

“i think this might be my guy” you coo and let him back down onto his feet and he hops up onto your lap

you scratch behind his ear and he barks

“have you thought about potential names yet?”

you purse your lips and look down at the nameless puppy

“not yet… maybe you can help me come up with one?”

you didn’t know how hard it was to choose a name for something

it took you like three seconds to name kevin

but you and tae have been sitting here for almost forty minutes trying to come up with something

but also it’s not just up to you you think its important that the doG reacts to the name too

tae has multiple tabs open on his phone and he’s just reading names out to you

“baxter?”

you look down at the pup and it blinks back up at you

“jax?”

no reaction

“ace?”

nope

“scooter?”

nuh-uh

“sparky?”

still nothing

“rusty”

the pup growls at that one because rusty??? how inSULTING

“teddy”

nope

“cooper”

stiLL nothing

“duke”

nah

“how about milo?” you interrupt tae and keep your eyes trained on the pup

you want to thank the lords above when it barks and twirls around in a circle before sitting on his butt

“milo!” he barks again and sticks his tongue out “milo~” you coo and lift him up so that you can smoosh a kiss on his cheek

and if that’s not the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life taehyung doesn’t know whAT IS

“thank you for everything, by the way. you’ve been really helpful.” you tuck your credit card back into your wallet (it’s a good thing you didn’t end up getting those extra rain boots because ouCh the total was not a pretty number)

and then u realise

you haven’t even introduced yourself to tae

“oh! i’m y/n, by the way. probably should’ve started with that.” you chuckle sheepishly

taehyung smiles to himself as he sneaks an extra dog cookie into your bag

is he going to make his move

,.,., yes he is

“i’m taehyung,” he grins and you feel your heart flutter

hoO

your heart hasn’t fluttered like that in a long time

“-but you can call me later.” you can’t help but snort and taehyung grins as he rings up the last of your things

you can’t help but feel a sense of relief knowing that tae has taken an interest in you as well

“you’re lucky you’re cute” you mutter and tae looks up at you and raises a brow

“did you just call me cute?”

“i was talking to milo” you joke and tae raises his hands in defense

a moment of silence goes by

“hey, maybe milo and yeontan can meet each other one day or something…?” he clears his throat and punches a couple buttons on the computer

he’s not actually doing anything he’s just pretending like he’s doing something so that he can keep talking to u

“what do you think, milo?” you look down at milo and he blinks up at you “you wanna meet yeontan?” his mouth opens and he starts panting “what day is good for you, hm?”

milo barks before his hind leg is scratching behind his ear

ah

classy

“is this sunday good for you? milo and i can meet you here, or… we could meet at the dog park, or…”

“or maybe i can take you out for breakfast first? there’s a really nice café downtown that allows dogs in there too… and, um, and then we could go to the dog park? we don’t have to, if you don’t want to, we can just go straight to the dog park if-“

“i would love to go for breakfast.” you smile shyly and your stomach does a flip-flop

taehyung sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth before nodding and reaching for the printer as your receipt starts printing out

you’re a bit preoccupied fawning over your new puppy so tae quickly scribbles his number down on the back of your receipt

he steps out from behind the counter so that he can help you carry your things to the car

“so, this is for you,” tae hands you the receipt and you take it from him “like i said before, you should probably puppy-proof your place if you haven’t done so yet. milo’s at the age where everything is something to chew on, so if you have a pair of expensive shoes or something you might wanna put them away-“ milo barks and starts walking slowly around you and tae

tae looks down at him and takes a step closer to you because he doesn’t want to accidentally steP on your puppy “um, yeah, so, electrical cords, laundry, especially dirty socks-“

milo starts walking again and his little paws pit-pat against the floor

“uh-huh,” you furrow your brows and look down at milo and he stops walking and promptly sits and looks up at you “sorry, what were you saying?”

“training treats are good, but don’t give him too many treats because…”  

and now that you’re distracted again

milo makes his move

he’s a lil man with a lil plan

milo barks and starts running circles around you and tae

“milo-!”

you feel his leash starting to tighten around your ankles and the next thing you know you’re pressed riGHT up against tae

you stumble a little and let out a squeak of surprise

your hands shoot up to rest against tae’s chest to keep yourself balanced and tae instinctively reaches out to grab onto your hips

the two of you lock gazes and a beat of silence goes by before you’re both breaking out into nervous giggles

almost immediately your entire face flushes bright red

you certainly weren’t expecting this

“here, hand me his leash-“ taehyung takes it from you and bends down a little and starts unwinding the leash from around your guys’ legs

you want to diE (in a good way??) because tae still has one hand on your waist to keep you steady

then he’s scoOping milo up into his arms and turning him around so that he can look him in the eye “i can tell you’re going to be a bit of a troublemaker…”

milo barks and licks tae’s nose and tae grins before plopping him back onto the ground and handing you back the leash

“so…” tae shuts your trunk after helping you put everything in “i’ll see you sunday?” 

you nod and offer him a smile before deciding to just dO iT 

you are young and life is short and taehyung is cuTE 

tae’s eyes widen when you plant a kiss on his cheek and a big fat grin immediately appears on his face 

“i’ll see you su-“ you’re cut off when milo suddenly pops his head out from the passenger seat and barks 

tae scoffs playfully “yeah, i’ll see you sunday too, milo” 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

masterlist

[fallenesspoetry]

As Hot As You Can Go (full text)

AO3 FFN FICBOOK (RUS)

Rating: Explicit/NC-17

Pairing: Donald Ressler/Jessie Brooks (OFC)

Warnings: Nudity, Swearing.

Summary: Donald Ressler doesn’t expect someone to take care of him.

"Who's there?" Donald asked as someone knocked in his door outside.

It was a sheer luck he decided to check if the door was locked otherwise he wouldn't have even heard the tap. His doorbell was dead, and, frankly speaking, he had no desire or time to fix it. He wasn't expecting anyone to come over, anyway.

Even if someone was interested in stopping by, it wasn't the best time to visit—Donald had been recovering from a nasty shot in the leg for almost two weeks and he wasn't in the mood of welcoming any late night guests.

The cane and painkillers were his best pals, because the slightest movement echoed with excruciating pain.

In spite of his condition, Donald insisted on coming back to work, agreeing to the desk duty. His job had been everything for him, whatever grunt and dangerous it sometimes might have been.

He heard a muffled voice outside.

"It's me, Jessie."

It was his colleague, Jessie Brooks.

Quietly cursing, Donald hung his black coat back on the rack. He also put his car keys and the badge which said Special Agent Donald Ressler in the drawer underneath the rack, and hurried to open the door. It took him a minute longer than usual.

"Hey, Don, sorry to drop by like this," Jessie blurted as if someone was after her.

Agent Brooks had been recently transferred from New York to Washington, and at first Donald saw her as a younger sister who needed to be looked after.

At the office she was a disaster: always late with the reports, almost as stressed as the suspect when it came down to the interrogation, and nearly dozed at briefings.

Donald tried hard to look for an explanation, but since Jessie was great in the field and had had his back so many times he'd lost count, he helped her with the paperwork. Unexpectedly for them both, but mostly for Ressler, they became best friends. They covered each other if needed, and hang out till dawn in bars.

At first it seemed odd for Donald his partner wasn't eager to go home (he thought Jessie was seeing someone). It turned out she'd rather spend time with him scolding at their boss, drinking and talking than coming back to an empty apartment.

It was out of question for them both to fool around to blow some steam off since they could get their asses in a big trouble. Not mentioning the overall morning after awkwardness.

Three weeks ago the blacksite they operated from was under siege, resulted in the worst nightmare of any operative: a clash in a closed area, outnumbered, communications jammed. Somehow the terrorists had learned about the blacksite's location, infiltrated it and took its personnel hostage.

Jessie was late at work on that day, but managed to sneak in unnoticed. She disabled the jammers, and slipped out to come back with the cavalry later. But Donald hadn't been that lucky: he caught a bullet in his leg, trying not to give up the warehouse with explosives.

However, when it was over, Jessie was back to her usual absent-minded self, and Don tried his best to help her.

That's what friends do, right?

Now Jessie, a short, strongly built woman, nervously tugged the zipper of her rain-soaked leather jacket. When Donald first met her he thought she looked, at best, eighteen. She was almost the same age as him, though. Few years younger, give or take.

A couple of curly dark-brown strands broke out of her red cap. She had a shy look on her almost childish, round face. There was a pair of bags from the supermarket.

"I thought, you know, you're here, all alone… Damn, it's not what I meant," she stammered, her cheeks blushing.

Donald didn't get where it was all coming from given the countless times they would talk about occasional one-night stands or cracked dirty jokes.

It was the first time they met like this, since Don had never been at Jessie's. They both preferred not to mix their private life and work.

And, to be honest, Donald didn't think of himself as a charmer. Of course, there were some lucky nights here and there, with no names or calls after, but that was it.

"Yeah, of course," he curved his lips in a sly smile. "Come on in already."

The bags looked heavy, but in his condition…

"I wish I could—"

"Nah, I'm cool," Jessie interrupted him, sounding less tense. She lift the bags and sauntered inside.

Donald locked the door, his eyes kept on Jessie's back. It was kinda unexpected that someone had actually bothered to check on him... Unlike those "friends" at Quantico who hadn't even called over these years.

Meanwhile, Jessie hung her leather jacket and a cap on the rack, and took off her sneakers. She was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a plaid shirt, almost matching his own home outfit, except the shirt. That seemed odd, since she must be just from work. You couldn't walk into the office like that unless you were going undercover.

"I thought you're free at ten," Donald wondered as they walked to the kitchen, passing a small living room where the faded wall paint asked to be refreshed, and it'd be nice to replace a sofa, too.

There was a neat pile of The Washington Post on the table. A just opened bottle of Heineken loomed lonely on the scratched surface.

"I left earlier. You should see Cooper's face when I told him that," Jessie giggled. "He couldn't forbid me to use my overtime, so here I am. Oh, and if he asks, I had some "family matters", alright? My nephew or what-not… What's so funny?" she broke off, seeing Ressler slyly crinkling his eyes and grinning widely.

"'Family matters', huh? You prefer what, 'sweetie' or 'honey'?"

"Shut up or I'll feed you this carrot. And not in the mouth."

Jessie washed her hands, dried them with the towel and started going through the groceries, putting them either on table or in the fridge.

Suddenly a very strange thought, given their relationship with Jessie, appeared in Donald's mind.

What if every evening could be like that?

Hadn't he wanted at times to leave the job, sell the apartment, empty all the savings and buy some nice house far away from here? Somewhere near the lake or river. To have a life, a family of his own, and a kid or two.

He forced his thoughts back to the present.

"Don't get me wrong, but how do you expect me to eat all that?" Donald sighed, pretending to sound annoyed. He placed himself comfortably in the chair, putting his cane away.

"Who knows, Don, maybe 'honey' will stay here till morning."

Their looks met.

Donald couldn't read anything in her hazel eyes, resembling now spilled amber ink.

Couldn't one just screw all these rules and do what they want?

On one hand, he didn't want to ruin their friendship with a short moment of weakness. On the other hand…

Actually, if she brought this thing up, could that mean she also wanted it?

…Or maybe, it was just another joke.

"So, how you want it?" Jessie asked, looking him straight in the eye, her voice calm and crisp.

"Want what?"

He completely lost the direction this conversation was going to.

"The steak, Ressler. Rare, medium-rare, medium, well done?"

Jessie grinned and took a massive cut of beef from the fridge, and laid it on the chopping board. A moment later she opened the exact drawer where he kept the knives.

"I guess, medium is okay… Listen, you need a hand or something?"

Jessie put away the knife she was sharpening and opened the cupboard. She took a few plates, two glasses, two forks and two butter knives.

"Here," Jessie gave him a dish towel, and went back on to cutting the meat. Finished, she soaked it with oil, seasoned it with salt, pepper and also added a few other spices he had no slightest idea of.

Donald didn't remember having anything else than salt and pepper.

Jessie noticed his confused look.

"These are mine. I wasn't sure you had something."

"You don't live in here, right?” Donald joked, drying the dishes, as he watched Jessie seasoning already peeled potatoes in salt and flour.

"Sorry, what?" Jessie asked, turning the stove on, and leaving the potatoes to roast.

"I said, you look like you've lived here forever."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

She licked a drop of the barbecue sauce from her finger.

"It's just I remembered something," Donald said, trying to ignore a totally inappropriate thought crossing his mind. He blamed the painkillers for it.

"Ah, I see. Who knows Don, who knows…"

Jessie resisted an urge to laugh, seeing how Donald's features changed: his green eyes widened, and it seemed that even his bright ginger hair had lost a shade or two.

She chuckled. "For the record, you did nothing inappropriate." The look on his face told her he didn't believe it, so she added, "Relax, Don, we were off the minute we got into your bed."

She put the steaks in the pan, and leaned to do a raincheck on the potatoes.

Donald was staring at her back, thinking. She seemed different. Not her straightforward, arrogant, sharp-tongued self.

She was… cozy. It's a weird comparison, but that's the closest one he could find to express what he felt right now.

"Stop staring at me like that, Ressler."

She kept grilling the steaks, flipping them.

"I'm not staring, I'm watching. Just in case."

"Just in case?" Jessie wondered, serving the hot steaks on the plate and covering them with foil. Next, she turned the potatoes off.

Turning her face to Donald, she caught a sliding dish towel from her shoulder, and tucked a loose curly strand behind her ear.

Something had changed in her as she approached him.

Her T-shirt clung to her body and her tight jeans embraced the curves of her hips. She came so close her knees were touching his.

At this moment Donald deeply regretted that first of all, Jessie was his friend, and only then—a very attractive woman.

"Maybe, that night I couldn't help but…" Jessie whispered into his ear. She almost breathed the words out, her voice low and deep.

He knew that voice—she occasionally used it over the phone when they needed to smoke the guy out.

Jessie took a long pause. Her uneven breath tickled his ear. Her body was in a very dangerous proximity to his.

"…grab a beer from your fridge."

Damn it!

He got played like some fucking teenager.

You won't get away with it.

"I found your bra in the morning."

Jessie froze, baffled, like a typical straight-A college girl, caught off guard with a question she had no answer to.

Donald struggled to hide a winning smile, watching her.

She hadn't noticed him grinning, her thoughts back to that particular night at Ressler's place.

Both of them were so hammered, that even if something did happen, it wouldn't really matter. She hoped it hadn't. She really liked her job.

And then it came down to her. 

The smile Donald had right now on his face would make Cheshire cat green with envy.

"Ressler! You sly ginger ass!"

Donald acted on instinct: he ducked from the blow and clenched her wrist, pulling Jessie closer.

Her wrist was still damp from water. She had firm, strong hands, but one wouldn't tell that at once. Donald had seen quite often the marks her punches left. No, he wouldn't want to piss her off.

Well, this steak is definitely a turn-on.

This thought had almost made him laugh.

Or was it something else?

At this job you couldn't even remember when it was the last time someone took care of you. The FBI had been everything for him—his wife and his mistress.

And there was that night. Donald's rational self preferred to think nothing happened, but the irrational—wished it woud.

It was super easy with Jessie. She was a great listener and would always find a joke to lighten the mood. However, when you gave her a headstart, she'd talk you to death.

For a moment Donald felt sorry for all those times she had to listen to him bragging about this or that girl he'd got laid.

Suddenly, his left hand acted on its own, sliding a few inches down Jessie's waist.

Totally shocked by his own audacity, Donald yanked it away and loosened his grip.

But Jessie wasn't rushing to step back.

Donald couldn't even say a word, when the dish towel slightly swatted him.

"Sit down and eat."

Her calm and a bit tired voice gave him hope she wasn't angry.

Jessie turned her back from him, grabbing beer from the fridge.

Sure, she must be thinking what a jerk he was.

Or worse.

Things were complicated, because Donald was in charge of the taskforce. And that meant he was her boss. They would always laugh at Jessie, who ignored any kind of subordination. It constantly got her into a lot of trouble. On top of that, her rank was lower than Donald's, and she had been also granted only level two clearance, while Don had level four. Jessie had to wait for half a year to take an exam to upgrade her rank.

Donald, on the other hand, did his best to keep both of them out of trouble.

He and Jessie were very different: she could spark with anger faster than one could lit a match, but she cooled off fast; Don was cold-blooded and reasonable, not letting his emotions to stand in his way.

"Jess, listen..."

Jessie silently cut the roasted potatoes in half, adding a small piece of butter inside, and put them on his plate.

A card player couldn't do a better poker face she was having right now.

Of course, she was ignoring him.

Who wouldn't?

"Jessie..." Donald was almost pleading.

Not uttering a word, Jessie opened the beer, pouring first a glass for him, then for herself.

"Let's blame it on painkillers," she said, her voice flat.

Donald wanted to apologize, yet all the excuses seemed so dumb and lousy...

"Just eat already. Or I'll change my mind."

How come he had never noticed what a radiating smile she had?

*

"…and he choked on his joint when you told him that."

Donald laughed almost to tears. It was one of their night shifts—they were surveilling some junkie whose drug dealer was a subject of their murder investigation.

Jessie, chuckling, opened another beer. Pouring Donald a glass, she suddenly frowned her face.

"You had your meds today?"

"I think I did. Or not. Not sure, really. Actually, it's on you."

"We can always refresh your memory," Jessie pointed at the dish towel behind her back on the chair. "When?"

"In the afternoon, I guess."

"Ressler!"

Donald noticed that the strange mix of anger and worry made her face even more attractive.

"No, it's okay, really. For the first time in days."

He wasn't lying, because for the past few hours the leg indeed didn't hurt at all. And he completely forgot about taking his meds throughout the day.

Jessie's gaze faded a bit. She looked anxious. And sad.

"You okay?" Donald wished he could stand up quickly and hug her. "Thank you," he gently squeezed her hand.

If this gesture confused her somehow, she hadn't shown it.

"No big deal. I don't have anyone to cook for anyway."

Jessie sounded cheerful, but one could hear a trace of longing in her voice.

Don knew that feeling too well. He hadn't gotten to say a word to comfort her, as the phone rang somewhere in the hall.

"It's mine," Jessie blurted, rising herself from the seat. A moment later, she disappeared in the hall.

Don, pouring himself another glass, was thinking what a great evening it had been. It was actually the first time he ate something home-cooked, because usually he picked some Chinese to save time.

His apartment wasn't spacious, so one could hear everything, even if one talked quietly. However, quiet was not Jessie's style. She swore loud and dirty, like a sailor on the ship.

Don didn't care about swearing as he would do the same once or twice. In the end, everyone blew their steam off any way they could, right?

"…No, I fucking can't!"

Jessie came back looking like she could choke anyone who's going to ask her if she's okay. Donald had no intention to see it come true, so he refilled her glass and prepared to listen.

"You wouldn't believe it!"

"Try me."

"Apparently some jerk decided it's a good idea to cook meth in the building I'm fucking living. Of course, a moron he is, this idiot screwed up." She gulped her beer. "The police asked everyone to crash someplace else for the night."

Not thinking twice, Donald suggested, "You can stay here."

Jessie studied him for a moment with her eyes. They grew few shades darker, now resembling a strongly brewed coffee.

"You won't hit on me, right?"

"You want me to?" Donald raised his brow. "I can take the couch," he added.

Well, he couldn't blame her for the remark—she had her reasons. It made him upset somehow. He couldn't get why, though.

"And kill me the next morning? First, your leg, then your back." Jessie took the last bite of the steak. "The couch is okay, thanks."

Don went to look for the quilt and a spare pillow. When he came back, Jessie was doing dishes.

"Go and rest, now," she scolded him like a mother.

He put away his cane, took a dish towel and leaned against the table.

She gave him another angry look.

"I'm not a kid, Jess..."

He didn't finish because in an instant sharp, unbearable pain pierced his leg. It was as if someone tied a knot with his muscles and nerves, tying it tighter and tighter, twisting and pulling, the pain resonating all over his body.

"Fuck!"

He would have fallen but for Jessie's instant reaction. She caught him in a field nurse manner, placing his hand across her shoulder, embracing his waist with her other.

As Donald was taller than her, he occasionally buried his face in her hair, smelling the scent of spices she used cooking.

"Can you walk?"

Don shook his head. He wished he could have cut his leg, if only it would stop aching.

"No offense, but my shoulders getting numb. Where are the pills?"

"My pocket." But as Jessie's hand reached the side pocket, he added, "No, at the back. You have to—"

"I got it," Jessie hissed, trying not to think that he actually had quite an ass. She sometimes checked it out when he, acting bossy, ran here and there in the office. More than she cared to admit it became the reason of misspelled words and missing chunks in her reports.

Muttering, Jessie slid her hand into Donald's back pocket. "And here I thought this couldn't get any more awkward."

"You say like you've never seen my… Ouch!"

Boy, that hurts. Why would she pinch him?.. Yeah. Right. The bra joke.

"Keep quiet, Ressler... It's empty."

Don wanted to joke but another round of pain got the best of him. Burying his face again in Jessie's hair, he groaned through his clenched teeth.

Jessie gently stroked his back, embracing him tighter. A lot of thoughts were drumming in her mind now.

What could possibly ease his pain? An abrupt change of sensation?

Okay. Let's assume it could work. But what exactly?

Suddenly she got an idea. The most crazy and worst idea ever, but if it could help…

"Try to lean against the table with your back."

He didn't really believe it would make any difference.

"Don, just trust me, okay?"

And he did as she asked.

"Close your eyes," Jessie's surreal voice coated him in warmth.

His mind, exhausted from the pain, didn't even bother to pose a question 'what for'.

In less than a second Donald felt her small, slightly wet, warm lips pressed against his own.

It indeed felt much better.

Unexpectedly for himself Donald answered her gentle and unsure kiss with aggressive persistence. His hands slid under her T-shirt. She shuddered, but hadn't broke the kiss.

But he did.

"You sure?" Donald asked, his voice resembling an aroused cat in heat purring.

"Yes," Jessie breathed out, kissing him again, this time much harder, running her fingers through his hair, tugging on it.

She wanted to learn each inch of his lips by heart, as those were changing their mood—gentle at first, yet demanding, and then—as hungry as her own.

Donald's hands possessively slid under her T-shirt again. Jessie, taking the hint, freed herself from both shirt and the tee. A moment later her bra joined the rest on the floor.

Kissing Donald again, she pressed her body against his.

Don, gently breaking the kiss, ran his fingers over her breasts. When he lightly grazed her nipples, unsure of how she wanted it, rough or gentle, Jessie, catching her breath, wondered, what for to have such experienced hands if not using them with proper pressure?

Grinning at this remark, Donald complied. His touches got harder. Jessie groaned. She kissed him again, this time impatiently, digging her nails into his cheekbones.

Donald got his finger wet with saliva and caressed her hardened nipples, watching her body grow more and more supple. She melted into his lightest touch, breathing out something incoherent.

He slid his right hand down to her jeans.

Out of sudden, her thighs slammed his hand shut like a trap.

Well, this was unexpected.

"I need this hand, Jessie," he purred almost in a cat-like manner, kissing her in the neck.

Jessie, still not sure how she felt about what was happening, tried to ignore how quickly his soothing voice turned her on.

It turned out Donald wasn't to give up that easily: the things he was doing with his lips on her neck made her feel like a horny college girl. Her thighs had treacherously opened.

At some point he had hungrily sucked on her neck, almost biting it.

"Jeez, Don, it's not a steak."

Ressler softly nibbled her neck with small, light kisses. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging her body against his. He wasn't overly fit or too lean, just somewhere in between.

"Feeling… better?" Jessie wondered, catching her breath again.

It should have been one fucking kiss!

"I'm not sure," Donald grinned. Now he reminded her of a well-fed ginger cat, content and sly. "It's much better than the pills."

"Don't get too comfortable. It's a one-time offer."

"Don't you like it?" Donald reached to the fly of Jessie's jeans, pretending to be hurt by her words. Unzipping it, he stripped them down a little.

"No, not even—"

The words got lost a halfway through her throat, when Jessie felt his left hand roaming her breasts, this time grazing them harder than before. His right hand slid down beneath her jeans and he pushed aside her underwear with his finger.

Her jeans didn't actually prevented her from getting high on his touches. Yet without them it would be a thousand times better. With this thought in mind, Jessie hastily pushed them down along with the underwear.

"You still don't like it?" Donald wondered, his voice suave and lower then before.

Not giving a damn he could lose his balance, he licked Jessie's hardened nipple with the tip of his tongue, simultaneously caressing her damp, warm flesh with his fingers. He wasn't in a hurry to slip them inside, taking pleasure in driving her crazy.

"R-ressler… we... will… fall..." Jessie was almost growling, aggressively tugging on his hair, breathing unsteadily.

When his fingers caressed her clit, her bizarre, dirty whisper turned into a pleading moan.

His touches were knowing and precise.

He rubbed. Circled. Stoked. Pressed.

Rough. Light. Rough. Light. Up-and-down. Less rough. Lighter. Almost weightless. A bit harder. Harder. Rougher. Slow. Slower. Almost idle. Quick. Quicker.

And then he would start over again.

Jessie's body shuddered, and he knew her release was close.

Unfortunately, given his condition, multitasking was difficult: it became harder to keep his balance and caress Jessie, so her orgasm had to be delayed till better times.

The tip of his tongue toyed with her nipples one last time, and he leaned back against the table.

"I know it, I'm not an idiot," Donald whispered huskily, struggling to keep his balance.

"I highly d—" Jessie didn't finish, because he pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss turned out to be a lot more intense than he expected to. Jessie answered him, digging her fingers fiercely into his jaw. Her tongue delved into his mouth.

"We… can't… keep it… like this," Jessie said, panting, like she had just run a marathon.

But for his leg he was guaranteed to have fucked her right here fifteen minutes ago. And thinking about it had turned her on even more.

Where the fuck those damn painkillers are?

"Something's on your mind?" Donald asked, keeping himself cool as if they were discussing another ongoing case.

Jessie was looking unthinkably hot at this moment: her dark curls, coiled in a snake-like manner, fell loosely on her shoulders; red cheeks resembled two ripe apples, skin reddened from his touches.

Acting like she hadn't heard his question, Jessie turned, kicking her piled clothes aside with her foot. She left the room, not even bothering the neighbors might see her naked shape in the window.

Five minutes passed. Though it felt like forever.

Donald carefully stretched his numb back.

"I'm still here, Jess."

Nothing.

"Listen, I get it if you're on your own. But at least let me watch."

What was she thinking, leaving him all hard up like this? To put it mildly, it's at least not fair. Well, she must be feeling not that great too, given the fact he...

And then it occured to him: she must be looking for his painkillers.

"Shut up, Ressler, if you don't want to be up like that all night," Jessie hissed angrily from the bathroom, going through his meds in the drawer.

What a fucking mess!

Jeez, one could jack up half a block with these. Well, it was the same way at her place. Stress relievers, antidepressants… You name it.

"I'm up anyway."

"Yeah, I can see that," Jessie smirked, coming back in the kitchen.

She gave him one snow-white pill and a glass of water.

"Thanks."

The minutes had never dragged for so long.

Don was devouring Jessie with his eyes, contemplating.

What for to look for something far and unreachable, if everything you ever needed was right by your side?

"Better?" she asked, her crisp voice filled with sincere worry and something else he couldn't make yet.

Donald nodded.

Jessie hadn't gotten a chance to say something else. In an instant she found herself sitting on the dinner table.

"I hate to be a buzzkill..." Donald approached her. His hands stroke her thighs, and those spread at his touch.

Jessie grabbed him by his belt and pulled him closer to her. Rapidly undoing it, she hastily unzipped his fly.

"Woah, easy there. I'm gonna need it."

"Shut up already and fuck, Ressler."