#music that reminds me of my desk mat :)

[annakie]

Four Hours and Fifteen Minutes

I cannot put into words how normal today was until about 11:15 this morning.

Fry woke me up, mostly, around 6am.  I also needed to pee, so I got up, then went back to bed.  Fry kept being annoying, so I didn't really sleep that last hour, and eventually I sat up and browsed Reddit.  Fry started being EXTRA annoying, telling me every few seconds that I needed to get up and feed them, so I put on my headphones and played music, especially when Leela started joining in the chorus from the living room.  They don't get fed until after 7am, or they start expecting it earlier and earlier.

Later, as I was still sitting up browsing, Leela jumped up onto the bed.  She occasionally comes and visits in the bedroom since it's opened up after Patchy died in August, but rarely stays long.  She didn't stay long this time either, but for about five minutes she walked around me, and I petted her a bunch as she did.  She hopped back down and headed to her bed on my desk, between one monitor and my computer, a bed on a heated mat on fairly low heat.

Always in the back of my mind now, especially the last two months, is a reminder that I almost lost her in April, 2021.  Since then she's been on borrowed time, when the emergency vet brought her back around when one of her kidneys started failing and got infected.  She's only had one working one since, and her blood levels have started inching up in bad kidney-related ways.  So the last two months she's been on a pretty strict diet of low-phosphorous food.

Tomorrow, I reminded myself, she had a vet appointment to get those levels checked.  I was hoping for a good report, though she does still get her treats, and sometimes sneaks off to eat Fry and Pemily's not-low-phosphorous food. Still, she's been happy and energetic the last two months and I had very little to report.

Eventually I got up, fed the Outside cats (still working on making them inside cats), grabbed a small handful of their food, sprinkled some on the floor to make Fry hunt for it.  Opened the bedroom door.  He, Pemily and Leela ran in.  Fry ran to his hunting spot while I called Leela and Pemily to follow me back to the Office.

Leela got about six pieces of the junk food, Pemily got about twice that.  I grabbed Leela's water bowl and now-empty-except-for-crusties food bowl and Pemily's little water bowl, along with my Yeti mug.

Leela yelled for food as soon as she finished her few pieces of kibble.  I opened a new can of her food and spooned out over half of it into a clean food dish, filled the two small water bowls with cold, filtered water from the Brita, and walked back to the desk.

I set Pemily's water bowl down first, and Leela headed for it, before I called her back over to her own bowl of cool water and plate of food.  She ate, ravenously, and drank her cool water with gusto.  I headed back to the kitchen, filled my Yeti with ice, refilled the ice tray, poured water.

A little while later I made coffee and a bagel, Leela had almost finished her food and wanted the remainders smooshed so she could eat it better, I smooshed it.

A little while after that she was about done and calling for more food, loudly.  So I went back and put the rest of the food from the 3.3oz can in the dish, knowing she wouldn't quite finish it.  That's fine, Pemily or Fry could have it before I got Leela's dinner that evening.

I was right, she only ate about half of the remainders of the food.  Whatever.

At 10:30 I had a meeting.  I had to tell Leela to shush a time or two and apologize for her friendly talkative nature.  I also told my boss about the vet appointment the next morning.  He asked if everything was OK.  Yeah, I said, probably!  Just a check on her blood levels, since she only has one working kidney.  She's old, almost 18, but aside from that, she's doing great.  Hopefully we'll get a good report tomorrow!

I stopped Pemily from eating Leela's food as she snuggled in to the other bed on the desk, then the meeting started in earnest.  I was mostly just taking notes, which is easy but requires a lot of looking at the screen.

At about 11 Leela hopped off the desk and went to her bathroom spot, and relieved herself.  Then she had a good run around the house for about a minute, as is her way after her morning constitutional.  She was yelling as she ran, as is usual, but I had my mic muted so didn't have to shush her or apologize for her.  I don't mind it.  She's running and happy, which must mean, she's healthy.  Run all you want, itty bit.

At 11:15, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leela standing up on her hindquarters for an inordinately long time.  I looked over and she was falling backwards off the desk.  I didn't have a hope to catch her.  I expected her to leap back up in a few seconds.

But she didn't.

So after about fifteen seconds I got up and went behind the desk and looked, and she was laying on the floor, looking dazed.  She didn't look like she hit her head, more like she was splayed out.

I carefully checked her to see if she was hurt, but didn't seem so.  She was slowly moving herself. Still, I was concerned. I unmuted my mic and said I need to be out of the meeting for a bit, remuted, then took my headset off.

I picked her up and put her in the other cat bed so I could see her easily, Pemily had left at some point.  For about a minute she just laid there looking around slowly, then she got up and walked back to HER bed.

OK.  She's alert, she's walking.  Nothing seemed broken or hurt.  She just had an oopsie, she'd caught her claws on something, yanked her arm back too hard, lost balance and fell.  Clumsy, but it happens.  I'll keep an eye on her.

After being out for five or seven minutes, I put my headset back on and finished out the meeting.

For the next two hours I was checking her every ten or fifteen minutes.  She seemed a little slow, but mostly alert, and she didn't throw up or show other signs of trauma, so I let her be, and let her sleep.  I’d mention it tomorrow at the vet.

Leela was awake around one forty five.  She was alert and acting completely normal.  She ate a bite or two of food.  I was watching her, with one eye on my work screen, when her entire body tensed up, she pulled one arm to her body in a true claw-like manor, and was shaking a little.

No, something WAS wrong.  I tried comforting her for a second then grabbed my phone.  By the time I got my camera recording it was mostly over, but I caught some of it at the end.

She has a doctor's appointment in sixteen hours, I thought.  What is this?  Can I google it?  She went back to being normal within a minute of the incident.  I thought about the icy roads outside, if it would be safe to leave, or if it was an emergency now.

I tried, for about ten minutes, and of course none of it was good.  I realized I was being dumb.  I grabbed my phone and started pulling up my vet's number.

And then she did it again.  It was definitely some kind of seizure.  Now near freaking-out levels, I dialed, and it connected to my fucking headphones, and the next time too despite me trying to stop it.  The third time, now I was full on shaking as I held Leela through the end of whatever was happening to her, I tried to hold my panic in as I talked to the office.

They put me on hold to check to make sure they had the capacity or if I'd need to go to the emergency vet.  I quickly threw on clean clothes while waiting, forgoing a shower I probably really needed.

Bring her in, they said.  I'll be there in twenty minutes, I said.

The ice had, thankfully, mostly melted on the roads throughout the day.  I slid a few times, there was a lot of slush out there, but I told myself from the second I got her in the carrier and into the car, that I had to drive safe.

I did.  And I talked to Leela the whole way, wanting to hear her cry because that meant she wasn't seizing.

And I thought about December 28, 2016. Driving Cebu to the vet after I woke up and he'd been throwing up blood and barely responsive.  I thought about my dashcam recording of that morning that I found myself watching, listening to Cebu moan in pain and me begging him to hang on, knowing I was taking him to leave, more peacefully than now.

I thought about December 25th, 2016.  When I didn't take Jim to the vet soon enough and he died in the middle of the night, alone without me, and probably scared.

I thought about August 12th, 2022.  Worried, but not really giving thought to the fact that Patchy had gotten THAT bad.  Thinking they'd re-hydrate her, give her some anti-nausea meds and tell me to double her prednisone again, buy her a few more weeks or months.  Until Dr. N saw her blood levels.

I tried not to think about that, tried not to think that this could be Leela's last car ride.  That I could be leaving there without her.

I mean fuck, her KIDNEYS are supposed to kill her.  I've known that for almost two years!! What the fuck was THIS!?

I made it to the vet, with only a light amount of crying and icy road problems along the way.  Took her inside and she'd been vocal the whole time AND while waiting in the lobby, voicing her displeasure.  Got her into a room and she'd peed in the carrier.

I took her out and was starting to clean it up when Dr. N came in.  

I gave him the history of the day.  Of how ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NORMAL she was all morning.  The time of her first seizure.  I was sure I hadn't seen anything like it earlier in the morning or anytime yesterday.  I was with her like twelve to fourteen hours most days.  It's possible she could have had one overnight but... she was normal by Breakfast so I didn’t think so.

Yes, she ate a lot.  She pooped and RAN before the first one.

Okay, he said.  It could have been a lack of oxygen and too much stress from the running. While we were talking, she tried jumping off the table, but I caught her pre-jump and held her.

Let's do bloodwork.

He took her, took some blood, they cleaned her up of any pee and cleaned the carrier as well.

They brought her back in and it was awhile for the results, so I was just holding her, talking her, then she climbed down and was hanging out on my Kaidan hoodie crumpled in the corner of the bench.  I was absentmindedly petting her watching animal planet on the TV in the room... when she fell over onto me.  Seizing.

I stood up carefully and laid her flat and called for Dr. N.  A few seconds later he and the vet tech rushed in, put her on the exam table and held her through the seizure.

And when he was done, he looked up at me, still petting her as she recovered and told me the news.

Her bloodwork was very different this time than last time.  Her kidney levels looked fine.

But some other numbers (he said them but I don't remember) were off the chart.

She's got lymphoma.

FUCKING.  LYMPHOMA.

THE SAME.  FUCKING.  THING.  THAT.  KILLED.  PATCHY.

They aren't related.

It happened in the last two months, and we didn't do any further tests, but he was sure that at the levels she had, and you know the fucking SEIZURES, it must have spread to the Central Nervous System.

He said we could TRY anti-seizure meds and prednisone, the same medicine Patchy was on for the last thirteen and a half months of her life.  But this had ravaged Leela much faster than it had younger, healthier Patchy.

I could take her home and try over the weekend, he said.   It would be at least a weekend before we knew if it would help.

If it didn't help, she would be seizing all weekend.  She could die at any time from one of the seizures.  It would be uncomfortable and painful for her.  It would be difficult for me, especially if she didn't respond well.

It's possible it would buy her weeks of life, but literally one of the numbers she had was off the chart.  Normal bad was like fifteen thousand.  Hers were like two hundred thousand, he explained.  They ran the tests twice, that's why it took so long.

It was my decision, he said.  Give me a few minutes to think about it, I said.

He left.  I held Leela and cried and tried to decide.  She was worth the pain of trying to me.  Tomorrow is Friday, I could see how tomorrow went on the meds, and they were open half of Saturday so I could bring her in then, if things didn't go well---

she seized again.  In my arms.

Each one looked worse and lasted longer.

I called for the doctor but he was with another patient.  I just held her and rubbed her head through it, until she twisted so much she almost slipped out of my arms.

I put her back on the table, and kept her warm while waiting.  Dr. N came in and I told her she seized again, just minutes after the last one.  He looked at me, and we both knew.  We knew.  I nodded.

He gave me a few minutes to say goodbye.  I told her over and over again how much I love her, and that she was going to go see Jim again.  Tell him, and Target, Sampo, Cebu and Patchy how much I love and missed them.  

They took her to put the catheter in, I texted my boss and my family.

They brought her back in, already sleepy.

And then the medicine went in, and I petted her until her last breath.  She still had bits of food on her nose from breakfast.  

I thanked Dr. N.  Told him I wanted to full package individual cremation, gave Leela one last kiss on the head, and left.

It was like, four hours and fifteen minutes from "Leela fell off the desk" to goodbye.

I left the vet in a daze, feeling like I'd been punched in the face.

I came home, changed into clean pajamas, didn't look at her spot where she was supposed to be on the desk.  Grabbed my Yeti and a new box of Puff's Plus and went to the bedroom, where I laid for three hours, crying wondering how the fuck this happened.  Texted one person, then felt like a jerk for dumping on them.

Called my mom, telling her all of this made me feel better.  

Eventually got the courage to come out here and start typing this.  After I cleaned up her bathroom area, and swapped out her tiny cat bed for one of the bigger beds.  There's no reason why Fry and Pemily can't sleep there now.

I tried showing Fry he could go there now, but he left immediately.  Different reaction than them happily reclaiming the master bedroom the instant I left the door open when Patchy was gone.

I've wracked my brain for some kind of sign that I'd missed.

Patchy had slowly gotten sick, eating less and less and throwing up more and more when she got lymphoma.

Leela has been eating like a horse and only thrown up hairballs a few times.

Leela gained weight.

There was a sneezing thing Leela had done a few times lately but it didn't seem neurological.  I had videoed her doing it last week, once out of the like, three times she did it in the last two months.  I didn't ask about it today.  I could next time I go in, I guess.  Not that it matters now.  That’s the only thing I can think of, though.

I just... I can't wrap my head around how fast she went from "having a great morning!" to rapidly seizing five times in four hours.

I still worry that I should have given her a CHANCE.  It was four hours.  It's not impossible that she would have gotten through it and...

...and her blood numbers were way off the charts.  And she likely would have had many more seizures, and she could have died here at home and I could have done nothing to stop it but watch her suffer.

Fuck.

She deserved to leave peacefully, and not in pain.

She was old.  Two months and a week from eighteen.  Once she became mine, she had a mostly happy life, once Fry stopped bullying her.  

I very nearly lost her almost two years ago and every day since then has been bonus time.  I used to morbidly joke that the money I spent on saving her life back then would be divided by the number of days that she survived past that, and I paid that much for every day of her life had been worth that much.  The number is $7.71.  I'd so gladly give $7.71 every day for another almost two years with her.

She's with Jim now, I am telling myself.  In my little cottage in heaven.  Cuddled up with Jim for the first time in a long time.  They were friends.  Jim didn't really like other animals but he did tolerate or even love Leela.  They didn't cuddle often, but he let her when she wanted to sometimes.

So now I'm imagining her up with him, Cebu hanging out nearby.  Meeting Target and Sampo, checking in on the bedroom and seeing Patchy there.  Jim and Leela in a spot near where they know I'm going to be, just within arms reach, waiting.

I'll write a memorial post later, write down everything I want to remember about her.  Right now I just am in that place where I am trying to believe it's real while desperately hoping it's all a very bad dream.

[astrojoong]

Bad Timing (18+)

Pairing Han Jisung x Reader 

Genre Smut Fluff and some very mild Angst

Length 3.5k

Posted 05.07.2021

Masterlist

AN Ahhhh! its my first full fic! AND my first time ever writing smut! It’s a little rough but I tried my best. Let me know what you think!

Content Details Under The Cut 

Content sub!jisung, dom!reader, gn!reader (theres no pronouns used and while i refer to it as a dick it could also be read as a strap-on) (i am afab so it was written from that perspective but it totally could be read as a real penis), pegging/anal, aftercare, overstimulation, some degradation, praise, dacryphilia, unsafe sex (there is no mention of a condom it can be inferred but just in case)

Jisung moaned around your fingers as he made eye contact with you in the mirror. His pupils were blown out, and his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. You could tell he was barely cognizant of the connection for the first few seconds, too fucked out to have his brain work properly. 

“My poor, sweet baby.” you cooed into his ear, your arms wrapped around him, keeping his back pressed against your chest as you fucked up into him from your kneeling position. “Have I fucked you dumb?”

His eyes rolled back and he attempted to supply a response but between you mercilessly fucking up into him and your fingers pressing down on his tongue, all that was audible was a drool-filled groan. 

“You poor thing.” You whispered in faux sympathy, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “I guess this is what you get for misbehaving, hmm?”

It had all started a few hours earlier when Jisung had decided to pick the worst day for a surprise visit. 

You had been absolutely swamped with work for the past week and you were reaching your breaking point. Your nutrition, sleep schedule, and social life had all been sacrificed in order for you to meet deadlines. This was the end of the line in terms of your sanity and you cursed your past self for putting off the most stressful of the assignments until now when you were exhausted and irritable. 

It was midafternoon and you found yourself sitting at your desk, listening to music and working on, or at least, attempting to work on, said assignment when a hand on your shoulder jolted you back to reality. You paused the music and peered up at Jisung.

He met your eyes with one of his signature smiles. His cheeks squishing upwards until his eyes were partially obscured, showing off his adorable, slightly crooked teeth. He quickly wrapped his arms around you pressing a quick peck to your cheek.

If this were any other day, this would be where you reciprocate his love, pushing aside your work to hug him back and go on to spend time together, giving him the attention he thrives on. Even if you were this busy, you normally would take the time to at least cuddle with him for an hour or two, or maybe take a break to order some food together. However, you had warned Jisung at the beginning of this hell that you would be swamped with work for the foreseeable future. Something that he said he understood and would respect.

You were unresponsive to his affection and he gave you a confused and slightly hurt look. You didn't want to hurt his feelings, but he had agreed to give you space until you were finished. After which you would reward him with all the snuggling and attention he desired. However, you were feeling exhausted and were pretty annoyed that he decided to go back on his previous agreement. 

"Sungie, do I need to remind you that you agreed to give me time to finish my work?" Your tone was terser than you intended, but it thankfully didn't seem to affect the boy all that much.

“But baaaaaabe” he groaned, “you said you’d be done today!” 

You rubbed your face, some of your irritation dissipating as you understood where the problem arose.

“No Ji, I said if all goes well I hoped I’d be done today. But clearly, it hasn’t.” You gesture to the state of your desk. Your laptop sits among a sea of paper, writing utensils, and mugs and glasses of varied fullness. 

He pouts. "Well, it looks to me like you should take a break. Nobody produces their best work while worn out and sleep-deprived." He moved behind you, hands coming up to massage your shoulders in a soothing manner. "If you're not feeling well, it'll reflect in your work."

Deep down you knew he was right. He's always been your little happy pill with his innate ability to lift your spirits. It's one of the things you usually appreciate about him. Even so, your naturally stubborn instincts mixed with aggravation of not being finished with your work and the misunderstanding with Jisung was too much. His normally compelling points were no match.

You shrugged him off your shoulders and swiveled your chair around to face him."

"I don't have time for a break, I just need to power through, seriously." 

He fixed you with a look that said he clearly didn't believe that but didn't say anything after that.

You sighed and turned back to your desk.

"Anyway, I'm sorry that you came all the way here just for me to still be busy but you should probably head out. I doubt that I'll be done anytime soon, and I don't think you'll have much fun sitting there and watching me work."

You weren't the only stubborn one in the relationship. If Jisung came all the way here, he'd be damned if he didn't get some quality time out of it. Plus he sorta hoped he'd be able to wear you down enough to get you to take your much-needed break.

"Nah, I've been banished for far too long." You turned to face him just in time to see him flop down on your bed dramatically. You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile at your primadonna of a boyfriend's antics as you watched him find a comfortable spot to curl up on your bed.

"I miss you far too much to leave now, and besides, just being around you is enough for me."

You don't know if he meant to lie, but lie he did. Clearly just being in your presence was far from enough.

It had been several hours since he had arrived and all he had done was distract you. 

For one, he couldn't stop moving around, it was like he was too antsy. He was constantly shifting and readjusting, or, even worse, getting up to move around. He spent about half the time standing, half the time sitting (and when he was sitting he certainly wasn't sitting still), and the entire time sighing. In between his non-verbal pouting, he also mumbled his complaints under his breath, just quiet enough that you couldn't quite make them out, but you got the gist of what he was saying.

It took you a while to finally be able to ignore his antics, but you were finally on a roll. Inspiration and motivation had struck and you've made more progress in the past forty minutes than you have pretty much all day. So of course this is when the relative silence was finally broken.

"Babe, I think you should take a break, maybe eat some real food. We could order from that really good chicken place."

You stopped working. Disbelief at the audacity of his statement coursing through your veins. Looking back it may have been an overreaction but you were borderline furious with the boy now. You swiveled around to look at him.

"It's a shame we haven't ordered there in a while. Their chicken is so good and I've been craving it the past couple of days. Besides, I think a hot meal would really do you some good." He continued, oblivious to your reaction.

As you listened to his ramblings you controlled your expression and rose from the chair. 

"Y'know babe, I'm really happy you decided to take a break, you need it! And you get to spend time with me and give me all that love that you've been depriving me of." He was barely trying to conceal the smirk both in his voice and on his face at his assumed victory. He was almost proud that he had decided to wear you down.

You made your way over to him with a smile on your face.

"I think you're right Ji, I should take a break."

"See! I knew you would see reason eventually."

Your smile hardens as your hand darts out to wrap around his throat. His expression immediately shifts from smug to shocked to needy in the blink of an eye. His eyes widen and his lips part ever so slightly, his face softening as he stares at you with a look that's somewhere between dazed and wanting.

"I should take a break, and spend some quality time with you, so I can teach you a goddamn lesson." You continually tightened your grip as you spoke, watching his eyes flutter as he attempted to focus on you.

You lift the hand not around your boyfriend's throat and stuck two fingers between his parted lips to rest on his tongue. He suppressed a moan and almost immediately began to swirl his tongue around your digits.

"Lesson number one. Learning how to shut the fuck up."

Which is how you ended up here, your fingers still in his mouth, although he was long past the point of being able to do much other than moan and drool around them, rather than suck on them. The hand that wasn’t preoccupied was wrapped around his waist, keeping his back pressed to your chest. The both of you were kneeling in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom as you fucked up into him.

You watched in the mirror as he fell apart at your previous simulated sympathy. You knew he would react to you calling him baby. He always did. But you knew what would really get him.

“Just look at you princess-” 

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed even further at the pet name.

“Such a messy little slut for me.”

He moaned around your fingers.

The hand that had been on his waist crept up his torso before resuming its original place wrapped around his neck.

“My dirty,” you got closer to his ear “little,” your lips brushed against the shell of his ear “whore” you murmured before nipping his ear at the same time you tightened your grip on his neck.

It proved to be too much for the poor boy, as you knew it would, as he let out a high-pitched whine and teetered forward, landing on his hands. You followed him down, keeping your fingers in his mouth and continuing to fuck him. The hand that was around his neck found purchase on his hips, giving you more leverage.

Gazing into the mirror you saw just how gone he was. His pupils overtook the majority of his irises, his eyes were unfocused, his jaw was relaxed, allowing your fingers to part his lips and rest sloppily on his tongue. He had drool covering your hand and his lower face, wetting his lips and chin. His face twitched and he moaned with each slow but forceful thrust as he rocked forward onto your fingers.

You could tell he was starting to get close, he was having a hard time staying up. His arms threatening to give way and collapse.

“No cumming.”

His eyes flew up to meet yours in the reflection, desperate and pleading.

He was cute, sure, but you were not going to give in that quickly.

“No cumming until I give you permission, slut.”

You removed your fingers from his mouth, moving your hand to join the other on his hips, and straightening up, resting your weight back on your knees as you began to fuck him with renewed vigor.

This change in position allowed you access to his prostate, causing him to yelp and jolt as his arms collapsed. His cheek now smushed into the floor as he let out a continuous string of incoherent noises. If it weren’t for this position you'd’ve been able to see the tears that pricked his eyes.

As he mewled and shook, you decided you’d bestow a little mercy on the boy beneath you.

“If you beg, I’ll let you cum”

Immediately he let out a rapid-fire string of words that were mostly muffled by the floor. You caught a few broken pleas but the remainder was unintelligible.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t quite catch that. What were you trying to say?” the faux kindness in your tone was all but dripping from your words.

He lifted his head as much as he could to attempt to stutter out his attempt at begging.

“P-please pleasepleasepleaseplease I need to c-cum please” his voice broke with one particularly rough thrust “PLEASE, please, I’ll do a-anything, just let me cum .”

As he begged, a particularly nasty thought entered your head.

You sighed in resignation, concealing your true intent. “I guess that’ll do” you acquiesced.

Just as he starts to relax, finally having been given the go-ahead to enjoy himself, you remove yourself from him. This earns you a baffled whine and a devastated pout as Jisung looks back up at you in confusion.

You give him a playful smile. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum Ji, you know I can’t resist watching you.” 

He begins to get up, you place a hand on his sweat-slicked back to steady him and a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Plus my knees are killing me and I know yours can’t be much better off.” You explain as you stand. Jisung had already grabbed a towel and situated himself at the edge of the bed by the time you returned with the bottle of lube.

You applied more lube to yourself and Jisung who was clearly becoming impatient.

"Hurry up! I was so close!"

"I'm getting there princess, sheesh." 

"Then fucking prove it!"

You leaned over him, roughly pushing back in, and swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"That good enough for you baby?" you murmured into his mouth.

As you pulled back you quickly realized that he was not kidding and was, in fact, incredibly close. You reached down to grab his dick with your thankfully lube-covered hands. It barely took a few strokes, you had leaned down to kiss him and felt him tense beneath you.

"I-I-I, I'm, I'm c-c-cumming!" 

As you pulled back you realized that you were grateful for the switch in positions. Not only for your knees' sake but also because you adored watching Jisung fall apart in front of you. He was always gorgeous as he unraveled, head thrown back, eyebrows drawn together and his lips parted beautifully, coming together to create an absolutely sinful expression of pleasure. 

You watched him convulse, his release painting his abdomen and his wails turning to whimpers as you helped him through his orgasm. You loved the noises he made nearly as much as his faces. And tonight, you were feeling a bit greedy.

Staring down at him, you could see his face turn to confusion and pain as he noticed that your dick had not left him nor had it stopped moving and neither had your hand. 

He jerked and jolted with every thrust and his whimpers began to work back up to sobs. Pleasure turned to panic, his bewildered eyes meeting your smug face.

"Wh-why, ah, wh, please, please no, I c-can't, please, w-wait, n-n-no!" 

Tears filled his eyes as he squirmed, attempting to get away from your touch. You knew if he were truly not ok he would've safeworded out instantly, but you knew just how much he secretly enjoyed this.

"Awww, Sungie, isn't this what you wanted? I'm just trying to give you what you wanted and now you're being ungrateful?" faux hurt flooded your words. "How disappointing." You tsked and shook your head at him as he writhed, unable to truly comprehend or respond to you.

You watched as pleasure began to overtake the pain. His cries began to fill with a different sort of desperation as he bucked up into your hand. He was already an incredibly sensitive boy so you weren't surprised when soon after he suddenly tensed and threw his head back as he came again. The few spurts of cum he produced mixing with the sweat, cum, and lube his dick was already covered in as you continued to help him through his orgasm.

Honestly, he shouldn't have been all that surprised when you didn't stop for a second time.

This time he wasn't even able to form pleas, far too overwhelmed with the sensations. 

"Awwww, did baby think his punishment was over?" you cooed down at Jisung who was jolting and thrashing beneath you. "My silly baby. I think you owe me at least one more for your behaviour tonight hmm?"

He wailed in response, and you took that as affirmation. In his squirming, his hand darted out to hold your free one and you had to stop yourself from melting.

Just like the first time, the pleasure had returned to mix with the pain, and he was nearing his third and final orgasm of the night. You decided to make the final orgasm the most memorable. You had been focusing mostly on his dick while you lazily fucked him, but now, as he began to showcase the signs that he was close, you angled yourself up to nail his prostate.

His form was a study in desperation. You took in the sight before you: His head lolling, face covered in sweat, tears, and drool, lips panting, eyebrows drawn and eyes squeezed shut. His chest was heaving and it glistened with sweat. His abdomen was covered in lube, sweat, and cum. So was his dick, which was an angry red from the multiple orgasms, and you watched as it twitched in your hand, releasing a few pathetic spurts of semen.

You slow to a stop, releasing him and watching as he comes down from his high. You let him catch his breath before ever so slowly and gently pulling out. You hadn't realized that your hands were still connected until you had turned to go grab a towel and felt a sharp but weak yank on your hand.

Turning back, you saw Jisung staring back up at you. It's not difficult to know what he wants, so you return to your boy, putting off cleaning for a few extra seconds. Bringing up your intertwined fingers you kiss the back of his hand and smile down at him. 

"You did such a good job baby. I'm so proud." 

He blushes at the praise.

"Now... I have to ask. Did you learn your lesson?"

He rolls his eyes at you but nods.

You lean down, freeing your hand from his to gently cup his face and lightly brush your thumbs over his tear-stained cheeks before placing a delicate kiss on the apples of his cheeks. 

He softly giggles at the sensation and you peer down at him, a clear question in your gaze.

Jisung turns away, clearly bashful and you realize what must be embarrassing him.

"Babe... did you seriously lose your voice?"

He croaks out the most pitiful sound in the form of a nearly unrecognizable 'no'.

You titter as you lean down and kiss his forehead. 

"Aww, did I really fuck you that hard?"

He nods hurriedly before wrapping his arms around you and sticking his face into the crook of your neck.

"Hold on eager beaver, I gotta get you cleaned up before we cuddle."

After gently cleaning your boyfriend and supplying him with a glass of water, you grabbed clean boxers and a shirt for him. You got dressed in your own PJs before turning and helping him put on his boxers as you knew his legs were far too weak for him to easily get them on. 

After getting you both all ready for bed you pull back the duvet and lay down in the middle of the bed. Jisung smiles and quickly assumes his position atop you. You pull the covers up and one arm around him, securing him in place, the other coming up to stroke his hair as he contentedly rests his head on your chest.

Looking down at the boy you smile.

"I am so incredibly proud of you. You're my little happy pill, and I adore getting to be with you. My sweet princess"

He makes a little noise of protest and snuggles his face further into your chest in an attempt to conceal his blush. 

"I guess you kinda got your way anyway huh? I did end up taking a break to spend time with you."

You can feel him smile into your chest before turning his head to face you. 

"I'm sorry for acting like a brat earlier." His voice is hoarse and it almost hurts you to hear him. "I should've understood how stressed you were and not pushed it."

You sigh at his apology.

"No, Ji it's ok, I really shouldn't have taken out my stress on you and you were right, I did need the break. So I guess we both were kinda in the wrong."

He stares up at you with a face that was filled with adoration, a look you were positive was mirrored on your face. 

"I love you" He whispers.

"Ditto"

He lets out a petulant whine and you smile before giving in.

"I love you to the moon and back, baby."

He smiles and turns back to snuggle into your chest, already half asleep.

You smile contentedly, mind filled with adoration for the boy currently clinging to you like a koala, until sleep finally takes you too.

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter four // three days on drunken sin

summary: bucky decides to rifle through those boxes and finds the will to make the first move.

warnings: food/eating, nothing too bad this time!

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: how are we feeling about this week’s episode?? we’re getting closer to the start of tfatws with this chapter!! hope i don’t break your heart too much with the boxes :)

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

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The boxes taunted him for three days.

Three stacks of two boxes each cluttered his entranceway, each with that familiar scrawl of Steve’s God-awful handwriting.

‘BUCKY’

All caps, in black Sharpie, underlined three times just for good measure. Steve was always good at getting his message across.

He didn’t want to know what was in them, he told himself. But Steve was gone, and this was all he had left. These, that stupid notebook he still hadn’t found the will to write in, and the shield that was kicking around Sam’s apartment somewhere.

He wanted to toss them in his building’s dumpster, to push these aside like he did with everything else in his life. Out of sight, out of mind. That week, he didn’t tell his therapist about the boxes, or Sam’s unexpected visit, or his neighbor that he was now avoiding like the plague. Thankfully, she chalked his silence up to Steve and tried to fill in the conversational lulls with suggestions of amends and lists and he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Like always, sleep never came.

He knew the single night in his bed was a fluke, but he kept trying at least. He’d untuck his flat sheet from under hit mattress, fluff his pillow, and tuck himself in. Within five minutes, he was back on the hardwood floor of his living room, the lamplights illuminating his window and casting a perfect shadow on those stupid boxes. Finally, on the third night, he huffed a sigh and sat up, his arm whirring at the sudden movement. He wasn’t accomplishing anything letting them sit and gather dust.

Bucky reached under the cushions of his couch, fishing for the knife he had stashed away and got to work slicing through the clear packing tape securing each one.

The first five boxes were files. Mission reports, everything Steve could get his hands on about The Winter Soldier. The translations were rough, the descriptions weren’t as vivid as he remembered them now, and it wasn’t even close to everything. Why Steve kept them when Bucky was working to erase every trace of this from the universe, he would never understand. Steve was sentimental, even with the bad stuff. Bucky glanced over the files scattered across his entranceway, which maybe amounted to a year of his missions. If Zemo had looked in some suburb in upstate New York, he would have found everything he needed.

The dumpster behind his building was starting to feel more and more enticing.

The last box felt different. Significantly lighter and smaller, the items rolling and clanking as he dragged it towards him. He braced himself for more files, more reminders of what he had done as though they didn’t exist in his mind every second of the day.

The first thing he recognized was his mother’s handwriting. ‘Recipes’, scrawled so perfectly on a yellowing label.

The tin box was tinted with age, dented after so many years. He laughed and could remember it tucked away on the top shelf of the cabinet by the fridge, just out of Rebecca’s reach, even when she’d stand on her tiptoes in search of it. His Ma rarely fished it out, other than to let his little sister read over the ingredients with sticky hands as she helped stir pots and peel potatoes. She had them memorized by the time she was a teenager, having transcribed her own mother’s recipes onto these little cards. He was sure Rebecca did, too.

Next was the worn fabric of his Ma’s favorite apron. Yellow embroidered flowers scattered the crimped edge, strings falling loose. He recognized some of the stains, from spaghetti night and cake batter that she let dry on the cloth for too long.

Finally, a worn silver chain was buried at the bottom of the box.

JAMES B BARNES 32557038 T42 A

Of course, Steve with all his connections and know-it-all attitude and ‘I can do this all day’ would find some way to find his dog tags, probably tucked away in some ancient Hydra file. His flesh fingers ran over the indentation of his name, pressed into metal like millions of other boys had, off to fight a war that had nothing to do with them. Everything to lose, nothing to gain.

When he was most alone, settled into muddy trenches with wet socks and a stiff military jacket, he would recite those numbers out into the night sky. He’d map constellations over his head, wondering if it would be his last night and all there would be left of him would be those stupid discs of metal clanking around his neck and the letter tucked away in his jacket breast pocket, addressed to his mother.

His mother was long gone, he knew that. But to a fully conscious James Buchanan Barnes – not the Winter Soldier - he had only seen her a few years ago when he shipped off.

After a moment, he pulled the chain of his dog tags over his head, settling them under his shirt. His ears rung with the sound of footsteps in the hallway. The sound of dragging feet and the jangle of your keychain signaled your return from class.

His family was gone, Steve included. The only people he has left are halfway across the world, or off on some death-defying mission wearing metal bird wings. Except you, who still leaves bags of cookies on his front door mat, despite the silent treatment from his end. His maybe too friendly neighbor who poured over lists of albums for him to find taped to his door in barely legible handwriting when you should have been studying.

His mother’s recipe box was calling his name.

-

The knock on your door startled you from your nap. Well, if you can call dozing off at your desk using a law book as a makeshift pillow a nap. You stalled in your desk chair, eyes bleary as you squinted at your front door, then at the top corner of your computer.

2:36 AM

You nuzzled back into your book, content to chalk it up to your sleep deprived brain making things up.

The second knock was much more insistent and was certainly coming from your door. You rushed out of your chair, sock-clad feet dragging the blanket draped across your shoulders as you shuffled over, the knocking never ceasing. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, peering out your peephole into the dark hallway.

Bucky, with slumped shoulders and a bowed head, trying with all of his might to make himself as small as possible still took up so much of the doorway with his broad shoulders.

You should be mad at him.

You should go to bed, ignore him like he’d been ignoring you for the past few weeks. Like you hadn’t shared late nights and he hadn’t sat in your kitchen, licking your spoons clean or tucked into your couch just to watch you study, a new record playing gently. Your forehead pressed to the door, vile building in your throat as seething words collected on your tongue.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was muffled through the wooden door, feeling so close but sounding so far away. “We should work on you dragging your feet, doll.”

If you had taken another peek, you would have seen him pressing his forehead to the other side.

“You ignored me, Bucky.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, even through the door. “Some family stuff came up. But it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

It’s so stupid, letting yourself get so attached to the first guy to bat his eyelashes and read to you. It’s idiotic to want him to seep into your days and nights, to never leave like he had left you, after only knowing each other for a month.

It’s so foolish to open the door. But you do it anyways.

He swallows as he stands straight, and the widening of his eyes tells you that he wasn’t expecting you to give him a second chance.

“I, uh, here. Thought I’d finally return the favor.”” Bucky shoves forward a plate of cookies, misshapen and unevenly cooked. His eyes finally found yours. “My mom’s recipe.”

Family stuff, you remembered. The weight of the plate felt heavy in your hands, almost as heavy as his gaze on you as you lifted one of the lesser burnt cookies to your mouth and took a timid bite.

Bucky, you’ve come to learn, gives his love in silent acts of approval. He shines when you tell him his singing isn’t totally awful or that he makes a great sous chef, eyes crinkling when you approve of his music choice for the night or compliment the voices he picks when reading from his books. As he watched you, you felt that this cookie meant more to him then just flour and eggs.

He was reaching out, terrified of your rejection.

“You made these?”

“Alright, I’m not totally helpless.”

“They’re amazing, Bucky. Your mom should be proud.”

He returned your smile, knowing that she wouldn’t be. How could she, after all that his hands have done? Hands that should’ve been home, hoisting his sisters onto his shoulders. Hands that should have been helping set the table and at work so they had something to eat in the first place.

He looked so timid in your hallway, unsure of the next move. You rolled your eyes, moving to clear your doorway, despite his hesitation.

“Come on.” You spoke, like ushering in a stray cat with the promise of food and love.

He took the first step forward, shoulder to shoulder, head tilted down to catch your playful gaze with his serious one. Your mouth opened to make some sort of quip to ease the tension, but the words died in your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours for just a second.

His eyes closed as he drew in a single serene breath through his nose.

He was gone as quickly as he had come, moving further into your apartment and directly to your shelves of records, gloved fingers grazing over the sleeves in contemplation for his first choice of the night. As you finally collected yourself enough to close the door, you wondered how many people in the world had ever loved Bucky Barnes enough to give him a second chance.

taglist: @tisthedamninez @wcndamaxcmoff @freyagallileaevans @bibliophilewednesday @justtoreblogfics @teti-menchon0604 @l-adysansa @heart-eyes-horan @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @rexorangecouny @dilfvision @urafakebetch @comphersjost @am-tired-bois @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @euphoricaaaa @inadquacy @mackycat11 @withyoutilltheendofthismess @motherofallthesmallthings @victoriabaker112213 @macrillez @stvalentiness @nova10711 @tailsoflightning @okiegirl24 @qhbr2013 @beachbabe925 @weenersoldierr @venusinart @marvel-mistress @orthellqs @phasma-trash @beni-angie @infinitely-yellow @riverlethe1

[goldensstateofgrace]

- Love Along The Way-   Chapter I

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Asks/ Lmk what you thought | 

Series Summary:  Reader joins the band in writing songs for their third album (Youngblood) and love finds her along the way. 

Chapter Summary: Y/n is working in the studio when Calum walks in on her writing ‘Babylon’ and it goes from there. 

A/N:  SURPRISE BESTIES!!! IT’S HERE!! AHH i’m so happy with this chapter!! I hope you all love this series as much as i love writing it!! All I am asking is that you give me your patience between chapters because i am a slow writer and i’ve been going through a hard time mentally. 

Warnings: talk of cheating, mom reader, heartbreak, cancer ( not in detail), lmk if i missed anything! 

Word count: 6k

I hope you guys enjoy!! I worked very hard on this and I’m super proud of it!! 

Happy reading!! - G

You’d had these lyrics stuck in your head, replaying on a loop for a while now, but hadn’t had any time to actually get them down on paper. 

You weren’t going to lie, this last year has been a clusterfuck.  From Easton breaking up with you,  basically telling you he found someone else and that he wants nothing to do with you or Elijah, to not being able to write because you’ve been transitioning Elijah into preschool (he was not having it.) It was safe to say it had been a very rough year for you. 

When you did sit down and try to write, nothing would come to mind. All of your anger and heartbreak were there and ready to be used to make beautiful music others could relate to, but you just couldn’t come up with anything. Well, besides those lyrics, it was a longshot trying to come up with anything for that either. 

Maybe it was still too fresh, and maybe you were still heartbroken, but you just needed to do something besides sit in bed wallowing in your self pity. 

Of course, Elijah didn’t know what was happening. He just knew ‘daddy’ left and that he hasn’t been back. You didn’t have the guts or the courage to break his heart by telling him ‘daddy’ wasn’t coming back. He was three, he wouldn’t understand, but it also broke your heart all over again when he asked in his tiny curious voice ‘da-ddy?’ 

What were you supposed to say, “I'm sorry baby, but ‘daddy’ doesn’t love us anymore and he’s not coming back?” No, you weren’t going to do that to him. 

But as you sit there on the dark studio couch, the lyrics on the tip of your tongue, it's like you can’t get anything out. You have them right there in front of you, your black bass guitar sitting in your lap as you strum the bass line softly and hum along until you finally try and sing out the lyrics. 

“We said we’d both love harder than we knew we could go,” you sang softly into the empty room, thinking back to nights when you laid next to Easton, talking about how much you loved each other and how neither of you would ever stop because you loved each other more and more everyday. 

“But still knowing when to let go- no” you shake your head, not liking how that sounded.  “But still the hardest part is knowing when to let go” nodding, you scratch out your previous lyrics and replace them before you go back to picking at the cords, finding where you left off. 

You were so focused on the lyrics, mumbling to yourself and scratching out lyrics and replacing them you didn’t hear the studio door open. 

You were struggling on a particular verse, mumbling to yourself as you read off the lyrics written in what looks like chicken scratch in the notebook layed out in front of you. 

“You wanted to go higher, higher, higher, we-” but you stopped, stumped on what should come next. You sing what you already have out, trying to come up with anything but fall back into the couch cushions groaning when you don’t. 

“We burn too bright, now the fire’s gone, watch it all fall down” a voice sings out, startling you, and you let out a gasp. Looking up at the tall curly headed man standing at the door, your brows furrow. You were supposed to have this studio for two hours. He was dressed in a pair of basketball shorts, and a ‘The tonight show, Starring Jimmy Fallon’ gray shirt. A pair of Vans covered his feet and tattoos covered his arms. 

“Just thought I'd suggest something that came to mind,” the accented man voices, walking down the small step from the door and down where you are. You watch as he takes a seat on the small black loveseat against the wall across from yours. 

You close your eyes and sing the words in your head, strumming the bass as you do. “Thanks, that’s actually really helpful,” you tell him, writing it down. “How long were you standing there?” you ask him, looking over his dark curly hair and down to his brown eyes that look over you just as you are him. 

“Just a minute or two. Didn’t expect anyone to be in here, the band is supposed to have booked it for a few hours today.” 

You look down at your watch hearing his words and gasp at the time.You were almost twenty minutes late to pick up Elijah from preschool. 

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I lost track of time” you tell him, quickly placing the bass back on its stand in the corner next to the couch and packing your notebook and music sheets in your bag. 

“It’s ok, happens to the best of us,” his deep accented voice carries towards you as you see him shrug his shoulder out of the corner of your eye. “I’m Calum by the way,” he introduces himself, holding out his hands as you move to walk past him. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/n and also very late to -” you hesitate, not wanting to tell a stranger you just met about your son. “ To a dinner” you finish, shaking his hand before walking around him and to the door. 

Your hand is on the handle and pulling it open, before you hesitate, awkwardly turning over your shoulder to say, “It was nice to meet you, thank you for the lyrics,” you smile at him. 

He nods, sending you a friendly smile. “Any time”. 

You watch his eyes roam over you before you wave and head out, a smirk playing on your lips. 

Quickly, you make it to your car, driving 10 over the speed limit and making it to the preschool near your house in record time. You run up the sidewalk, signing Elijah out at the front desk before making your way down the hall to his classroom. 

He’s playing blocks with two other kids who happen to be siblings, Avery and Jase, not even paying you any mind, too engrossed in building a tall tower just for it to fall down landing all over the play mat. 

“Elijah, mommy’s here,” his teacher, Miss. Rachel, calls him when she sees you in the doorway. You watch as his head quickly turns your way, a bright smile spreading across his chubby cheeks. 

“Mommy!” he squeals, standing to his feet and running to you. His small arms wrap around your thighs, his cheeks squished as he looks up at you with his bright smile. 

“Hi baby! Did you have fun today?” You smile, squatting down to his level and squeezing him to your chest as you place kisses all over his face. 

He nods against you, pulling back as he tells you all about how he painted you a picture but that you had to wait to see it because it had to dry overnight. 

“I can’t wait to see it, baby! We’ll have to hang it on the fridge” you tell him as you grab his bag off the hook, telling him to go help clean up the blocks and a few cars that were laying out when you see that the parents of Avery and Jase are also here. 

When he’s all done you pick him up, placing him on your hip as you walk out to the car, his head resting on your shoulder as his eyes fall heavy. You know he’ll fall asleep the minute you start driving. 

You load him into his car seat and buckle him in before heading down the street, taking a few left turns and passing tall, two story gated houses before you pull into your own gated driveway. You bought this house with Easton, but only you signed the mortgage, so it was easy for him to move out. No need to sign paperwork or go to court. You’re so thankful for that. 

You wanted a safe neighborhood for Elijah to grow up in, and this is it. You moved in when he was a newborn, you did have to sign an NDA because some celebrity lived in one of the houses across from you, but you'd never seen them so you didn’t know who it was.

As you expected, when you went to grab Elijah out of his car seat he was out like a light, his mouth open as he rested the side of his tanned forehead on the side of the padded car seat. 

Smiling softly at his sleeping form, you gently unbuckled him and rested him on your chest as you walked into your house and to the couch. You had a net that attached to one end of your couch that stopped about mid center of the cushions to stop him from rolling off. He doesn’t roll around in his sleep often, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. You place him behind it and lay his favorite blanket over him before you walk into the kitchen to start on dinner. 

--------

It’s been a week since you ran late in the studio and Calum walked in on you. For some odd reason, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You had barely even talked to the guy but yet he was stuck in your head. His lyrics were stuck, replaying in your mind. He had only stood there for a minute or two, but yet the lyrics he sang went so well with yours. 

You were back in the same studio today, placing the finishing touches on the lyrics before you recorded the demo for it and eventually sold it to an artist or band to make their own. 

You look up, your brows furrowing when you hear loud laughter out in the hall, but you brush it off and finish setting up your computer on the panel so you could record the demo when you were done with the lyrics. 

Standing, you make your way into the booth, setting up a stool and pulling the bass guitar and it’s stand into the booth as well. You didn’t hear the door open, or the four laughing men walk into the room until you go to step back into the studio where the panel is. 

Your brows furrow when your eyes meet Calum’s brown ones, his face showing shock before it turns into a bright smile as his cheeks scrunch up. It reminds you of Elijah’s. You know you weren’t late to pick him up or running over your studio time because you booked the studio until lunch; it was only 10:30am. 

“We really gotta stop meeting like this,” Calum jokes with you, his bright smile making something flutter in you. 

“But this time it’s not my fault,” you tell him, smiling and looking at the three other very tall men standing behind him. 

The tall blonde with blue eyes and curly hair that ends at his ears smiles at you, showing off his dimples, “I’m Luke, it’s nice to meet you.” he introduces. 

You smile politely. “It’s nice to meet you too, I'm Y/n.” 

“Oh we know,” the red head chuckles. His hair is clearly dyed, but it suits him. His smile is bright and contagious. “Cal over here couldn’t stop talking about you and how amazing of a songwriter you are. I’m Ashton,” he tells you, holding out his hand for you to shake. 

You quirked an eyebrow up in Calum’s direction. “Is that so,” you tease, watching as his cheeks tint a shade of pink while you shake Ashton’s hand. 

“Oh yeah,” the shorter blonde one speaks up. “He even looked you up, wanted to know if you were selling that song you were working on. I’m Michael, but you can call me Mikey.” 

“Well you’re in luck, I was just about to record the demo for it. But if you’re interested you can have a look at the finished lyrics,” you tell them, pulling out the pages of printed lyrics from your bag.

They all nod, sitting down on the couches. You hand Calum the papers, smiling down at him before you take a seat at the panel, watching as they all huddle around Calum to read the lyrics. 

A chorus of ‘holy shit’s’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ sound as they finally put the paper down and stare at you. 

“So, you like it?” you ask. 

“Do we like it?” Ashton asks incredulously, looking at the boys and shaking his head in a way that says he can’t believe you asked that. 

“Yeah, y/n. We like it.” Calum tells you. “We're working on our third album right now and I think it would be great to add it to the album,” he says, looking at the other guys as they nod along in agreement. 

“That’s great, we can sign all of the paperwork soon.” you say, excited you don’t have to record the demo now. It’s always the hardest part. “I wrote a bit of a bass line, but nothing else so do whatever with it.” 

“We actually have something to ask you,” Ashton says, nudging Cal in the arm. Cal glares at him with a look like ‘knock it off’. 

“We were talking after I played some of the other songs you’ve written.You’re an amazing songwriter and we wanted to know if you wanted to help us write our album?” he asks, a bit shyly you notice. 

You’ve never written with someone or a band, not because you didn’t want to, you’ve just never had the opportunity. The only reason you would even consider turning this down was Elijah; you couldn’t take this opportunity if it was going to keep you from him. 

You weren’t really keen on telling people you barely knew about your son, but if you wanted to work with them and still have enough time for Elijah they needed to know. 

“Look,” you sigh, watching their shoulders deflate a bit and their hopeful expressions drop a tad. “I would love to, but you need to know I have a 3 year old  son, and I can’t have this taking me away from him. I promised myself when I got pregnant that I would always choose him over anything. Even if it is my dream. So,” you prompt, “if we can work around me having time with him then I’m in.”  

They all assure you that they’d help you make time for him. Ashton really hit home with you when he tells you, “I totally understand you wanting to make time for him, I grew up with only my mom and my two little siblings. We’ll make sure you get time with him.” he smiles softly at you, a knowing but sad look in his eyes. 

You smiled at him softly, thanking him and the guys, “I grew up with only my mom too. It was hard, but she was the best mother and role model. She was the strongest woman I know.” 

“Was?” Calum asked softly. Looking at you with gentle but curious eyes. 

You nod, smiling sadly. “She passed away a year and a half after Elijah was born. Breast cancer. It was really hard.” The memories come rushing back, and tears well up in your eyes, but you push them down, not wanting to cry. 

You all talked for a while, working out when you were available and what times it would be good to meet at the studio. It was when you were all packing up that Ashton proposed a chill night. “We should all hang out and have a night where we get to know each other better, drink and just talk.” 

There was a chorus of agreements, but when you hadn’t said anything they all stared at you waiting for your answer. 

“That actually sounds like fun, I'll be there. Just let me know a time and place,” you tell them smiling. You haven’t had a night to yourself since before Easton left, so you were long overdue. 

Calum offered to host it at his house, before you all exchanged numbers and left for the day. You planned on picking up Elijah early and taking him out for ice cream. It was his favorite treat and it was pretty hot today, so you decided it was a good day to indulge. 

You were just pulling up outside of the preschool when your phone vibrated in the cup holder next to you. Pulling it out, you see the message notification reading ‘Calum Hood’ swiping it and unlocking your phone the text pulls up.  

That should work for you, Elijah has been going to sleep around that time and you should be able to get Jessie to come over and watch him for a few hours while you’re over there. His address sticks out to you, not because you thought you’ve heard of it before but because it was basically your address just a few numbers off. 

Maybe he’s why you had to sign the NDA. He most likely has had fans coming to his home and waiting around to even get a glimpse of him in the past and didn’t want this address to get out to the public. 

Quickly sending him back a text, you put your phone back in the cupholder and go in to grab Elijah. 

------

The next day you were up and finishing off the last ‘Mickey Mouse’ pancake for a late breakfast. You were surprised Elijah stayed asleep past 8am, it was currently almost 11am and you were just about to go check on him and tell him breakfast was ready when he came padding around the corner rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists. 

“Well good morning little man,” you smile down at him, placing blueberries on his ‘Mickey Mouse’ pancake for eyes, chocolate chips for the mouth and a blackberry as the nose all adhered with whipped cream. Elijah was allergic to strawberries, or otherwise you would have added those in somehow. 

You woke to a message from Calum, replying to your message from last night. It was only sent about forty minutes before you woke up, but you didn’t see it until you were in the middle of making breakfast. 

You typed out a reply with one hand while flipping a normal round pancake for you and sending it. 

 You couldn’t figure out why you were smiling. He was a very attractive man, nothing like the guys you’ve dated in the past. Maybe that’s why you’re attracted to him. He’s not like the other guys who have treated you badly in the past; he’s nice and caring and didn’t run the second you mentioned you had a son. 

When you and the guys had been talking yesterday in the studio he asked to see a photo of Elijah. He told you how adorable he was, and how he looked just like you. Calum seems to be such a genuine and down to earth guy and if you weren’t careful you would fall for him. And hard. 

Carefully, you cut Elijah’s pancake up in little bites for him to eat, and pour a small amount of syrup over his and yours. 

You watch as he uses his green plastic fork. He has his mouth wide open the whole time as he carefully brings it up to his mouth. 

You cheer and kiss his cheek happily when he looks up at you excited when he got it in his mouth without dropping it. 

“Look at you! You don’t even need mommy anymore, you're such a big boy!” you smile down at him, taking a bite of your own pancake. He laughs his small contagious laugh, picking up another piece of pancake. 

“Baby, I need to talk to you about something” you say to him, making him look up at you with his wide brown eyes, his fork just at the entrance of his mouth. 

“T-trouble?” he asks you over his chewing, still looking up at you. 

“No, baby,” you chuckle, wiping the corner of his mouth where there was a bit of syrup threatening to drip down on his pj’s. “You’re not in trouble.” 

“But I have a big job.’ you tell him, “ A band asked me to help them write music for their album, so it might not always be me picking you up from daycare, it might be Miss. Jessie sometimes, is that ok?” 

He nods excitedly. “Yeah! Mi-miss Jessie is nice to m-me!” he stutters a bit as he gets excited. 

“Okay, also, i have a friend and he invited us over to swim! Do you want to go swimming?” you ask him as you sip the last of your coffee before eating the last bit of your pancakes. 

“Yeah!” he shouts. He’s been taking swimming lessons since he was two, he knows what to do if he falls into the pool. He loves the water too, he's a little fish when it comes to the water. 

You both finish eating and while you rinse off the dishes and place them in the dishwasher Elijah runs into his room screaming excitedly about going swimming. You laugh, shaking your head at his antics before following after him when you’re done loading the dishwasher. 

You change his diaper into one of those swimming ones with cars on it, before pulling a pair of yellow swim shorts over the diaper.  When you have him changed, you pack his diaper bag with a change of clothes, an extra swim and regular diaper along with sunscreen and his yellow bucket hat. 

You double check you have everything before you put his sandals on and bring him into your room so you can change into your blue bikini. It had high rise bottoms and the cups actually covered all of your breasts. You throw on a white cover up before sliding your own sandals on and heading out. 

Since his house is literally one house down from yours and across the street, you decide to just walk over. 

The sun was beating down on you as you walked out of the front door and locked it behind you. You text Calum that you’re on your way over before putting your phone in the diaper bag and heading down your driveway. 

It only takes you a minute to walk down the sidewalk and cross the street to his house. Checking your phone to see if he messaged you back when you’re outside the black gate, he did, telling you the gate was open and just to come in. 

You push open the gate, closing it behind you once you’re on the other side. There’s a black range rover parked in front of the open garage where you heard what sounded like an air pump. 

Walking towards the garage and around the black SUV, you see Calum’s familiar dark curls  as he kneels on the concrete blowing up a small turtle pool floaty. 

“Hey,” you greet Calum as you place Elijah down on his feet and squat behind him, pulling up his yellow shorts from where they fell down on the walk over. 

Looking up, you’re greeted with that bright white smile you’ve seen a few times at the studio but never fails to warm your heart. 

“Hey, I'm glad you guys could come!” Calum greets you, plugging the hole on the floaty before he turns off the air pump. He stands up just to walk a few steps in front of you and kneel down to Elijah’s level. “It’s nice to meet you Elijah, I’m Calum,”  he introduces himself sweetly as he smiles down at your son. 

Elijah giggles, turning into you as hiding his face on your leg. “Don’t be shy, baby,” you chuckle, running your hand over the back of his dark hair. You smile up at Calum, his face showing nothing but happiness and  eyes  lit up with pure adoration. 

“Can you say hi? Say, ‘Hi Calum’” you whispered in Elijah's ear, chuckling when  he shook his head and held on tighter to you. 

 “The tickle monster is gonna get you,” you sing out, your hands unwinding from him and to his sides where you tickle him. Elijah lets out his high pitched laughter, giggling at  you to stop as he tries to squirm out of your hold. 

“Hi!” he squeals loudly and you stop tickling him. Elijah turns around to face Calum, smiling up at him as he says, “Hi, Ca- calum.” 

“Hi, buddy. Are you ready to go swimming?” 

Elijah shouts out a ‘Yes!’ throwing his hands in the air and singing the song he was singing this morning about going swimming. 

“Sw-imming swimm-ing i going swimming” he shouts, causing you and Cal to break out in laughter. 

----- 

Calum was amazing. 

He was so sweet and caring with Elijah. Playing the same game over and over for almost an hour just to hear Elijah’s loud laughter. 

Catching your three year old over and over when he learned it was okay to jump into the pool and dunking him when he caught him just to throw him a few feet away in the water. 

Elijah’s loud laugher reverberated around the backyard and the trees that were planted against the walls encasing the closed off area. You felt pure joy at hearing his laughter. You knew he was feeling down with everything that’s happened with Easton, and hearing his laughter reminded you just what you have to live for, what’s waiting for you on good days and bad. 

Elijah is your whole world, your little sunshine, and you couldn’t imagine life without him. 

Looking over at the pool where Elijah and Calum were splashing each other, big contagious smiles spread across their faces and laughter flowing from their chests, you can’t help but smile. Watching them warms your heart. 

You were sitting on a couch in the shade next to the pool, Duke in your lap sleeping peacefully until Ashton’s loud voice invaded the bubble you all had been wrapped up in for the last four hours. 

“Hey, why wasn’t I invited?” he fake pouts as he stands in the doorway of the sliding glass doors. His hands rest on his hips as his eyes flicker around to all of you. 

“Thought you were with Kaykay,” Calum calls over to him, shrugging as he holds Elijah to his chest. That makes your heart flutter, seeing how tightly he holds him and how Elijah wraps his arms around Calums neck, a huge smile playing on his face. 

“Again,” Elijah giggled out. 

“Again? Ok,” Calum chuckled, throwing Elijah up in the air, his contagious laughter ringing out before he fell into the water below. You watch as Elijah swims to the surface,wiping his face of water and calling out ‘Again!’

Time flew by, because the last time you checked your phone was when you all sat down to have a bit of lunch around two, and it was now almost four thirty. 

Ashton made his way over to the long outdoor couch you were sitting on and took a seat in the spot next to you. 

“Is that Elijah?” he asks you softly, his eyes trained on Calum and Elijah who were spinning in the water before Calum launched your son in the air again as he let out a squeal of happiness. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “That’s E. He’s a handful.” 

Ashton smiles, letting out a deep chuckle, “I bet. He’s adorable, he looks just like you,” he tells you. 

“Thank you. When he was a baby he looked so much like my mom it was crazy.” you smile softly to yourself, remembering when you found old pictures of your mom and put one side by side with one of Elijah’s. They were practically identical. 

You were brought out of your thoughts when a small wet body climbed up in your lap and laid his head on your shoulder tiredly. “Are you tired, E?” you ask him softly, moving his wet hair - he needs a haircut - off his forehead before placing a light kiss upon it. 

He nods tiredly against you, his small hand lazily stroking the top of Duke’s head. The dog  had moved to  cuddle into the side of your thigh when Ashton sat down. 

Calum appeared in front of you, a towel wrapped around his hips as he smiled down at you softly, holding out a towel for you. “Thank you,” you tell him, taking the towel and wrapping it around Elijah to try and keep him warm and dry him off. 

“Should we just call Luke and Mikey and tell them to come over now? Since we're already here?” Ashton asks as Calum sits on the ‘L’ part of the couch next to your legs. “Did you drive here?” he asks you, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t see your car out there when I pulled in.” 

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “I live across the street.” 

Ashtons eyebrows raise in surprise before he lets out a chuckle, “wow, small world.” 

You nod, “if you guys want to call Luke and Mikey that’s okay with me, but the babysitter I have  for E can’t come until 7, she has a family thing.” you tell them, looking down at the small boy in your arms who has fallen asleep against your shoulder. 

“That’s fine. If you want you can go lay him down in my bed? So he can take a nap until your babysitter gets to your house,” Calum tells you softly. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “That would be good.” you tell him, smiling up at him gently. 

You all head inside, Elijah on your hip sleeping soundly against your shoulder as Calum leads you down the hall just off the kitchen and to the last door on the right. It was nothing like you’d picture his room to be. 

The  walls are white, and there’s a tv hanging on the gray accent wall in front of the bed. The bed is made with the white fluffy comforter folded where it meets the firm, white pillows at the top of the bed. The floor is clear, save a few cords to the tall lamp in the corner of the room and a charger. 

“Bathroom’s through there,” he tells you pointing to the open door next to the tv. 

“Thank you, Cal,” you tell him sincerely. Thankful for him offering to let E nap in his room. 

“Yeah, of course y/n. Make yourself at home,” he smiles before leaving you and walking back to the living room. 

You unwrap the towel from around Elijah, laying it out on the bed before placing your sleeping boy down gently. You change him into his regular diaper, causing him to whine and thrash around before you change him into a pair of navy blue cotton shorts and  a plain white shirt . He quiets down, falling back to sleep as you move him up to the pillows, forming a sort of wall around him with a pillow on both sides of his body before you gently place a kiss to his forehead. 

Picking up the diaper bag you walk into the bathroom, which is just as clean as the bedroom, to change yourself. 

You untie your bikini top and reach into the bag, only to find a swim diaper and the sunblock. You swore quietly, thinking back to when you packed the bag and realizing you didn’t pack a pair of extra clothes for yourself. 

Quickly you put your top and your white cover up back on, swearing at yourself in your head for forgetting clothes before walking out of the bathroom quietly so you didn’t wake Elijah up. 

You padded down the hallway and into the kitchen where Cal was sitting at the counter as Ashton rummaged through the fridge talking about a song he started writing. 

Calum looks up when you appear in the kitchen doorway, his eyes flickering over your body as his brows furrow, “You didn’t change?” he points out more than asks. 

You nod, biting your lip as your cheeks blush. “Uh, yeah. I forgot to pack any clothes for myself,” you tell him, smiling shyly, “But i’m ok in this,” you assure him. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, concerned. “I can watch Elijah while you go home to change-” he pauses, “or actually I think Mali might have left some clothes behind when she was here last.” he tells you, hopping off his stool and walking down the hall again. 

Mali? Is that his girlfriend? 

Your stomach fills with dread. Just when you thought you finally met someone that didn’t run at the mention of your son, he probably has a girlfriend. Just look at him, of course he has a girlfriend. 

“She’s always buying way too many new clothes while she’s here, she can’t fit them all back into her suitcase when she needs to leave,” he tells you chuckling as he holds out a pair of grey sweat pants and a green hoodie. 

You hesitate a second, not really wanting to wear his girlfriend's clothes. But the chill in his house is causing goosebumps to appear on your arms. “Thank you,” you say, taking them from his hands and walking back down the hall to change rooms and check on Elijah. 

----- 

“No,” Luke sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” you nod, your mood a stark difference from what it was an hour ago. “He came home one day and said ‘I found someone else, I don’t love you and I'm leaving’ he didn’t even mention Elijah. Just packed up all of his shit while I sat on the couch crying trying to wrap my head around what was happening.” 

“From the moment I found out I was pregnant it felt like he was on a different planet. We didn’t match anymore, we didn’t have that spark. If I'm being honest with myself that spark died out a long time ago, I just didn’t want to admit it. He was obviously not excited about the pregnancy- and I wasn't either at first, but when I heard E’s heartbeat for the first time-” you pause, “I can’t even describe it. It was like all my motherly instincts clicked in and I loved him more than I could ever have imagined,” you sigh, smiling at the memory of  the day you heard Elijah’s heartbeat. 

“I kept telling myself that Easton would come around once Elijah got here. It never really happened though. We were both in our twenties, he wanted to party, and drink and just have fun, and he did, and I stayed home with a screaming newborn while he was out living it up.” shrugging you looked up at all of them, smiling softly. 

When you came out from changing into the clothes Calum lent you, all the guys were in the kitchen talking. Luke brought Chinese and you all just sat around talking for hours. You learned a lot of eye opening things. Elijah went home about an hour after they all got there, Jessie coming over to grab him before going back over to your house.  

They formed their band when they were still in highschool, which was crazy to you. How they were still friends amazed you; you had lost contact with all your highschool friends when you moved to LA. 

Ashton was the oldest out of all of them. Mikey told the story of how he messaged Ashton on facebook messaged Ashton asking if he wanted to join the band. You laughed so hard at how the story was told, it was like one of those boards with all the strings connecting different things that all come to one big conclusion. They were all over the place. 

Then it was Mikey and Calum in the middle and Luke was the baby. They were all amazing, genuine guys and you couldn’t have been happier to call them your friends. 

You somehow had gotten on the topic of siblings at one point. Mikey doesn’t have any, but he was chessy when he said, “yeah but I have these guys as my brothers,” all the guys ahh’d and called him out on being cheesy but you could tell they were family. 

Ashton talked more about his sister and brother, telling you about how his dad walked out on him and then his mom met his stepdad and they had Lauren and Harry before he eventually walked out too. Your heart hurt for him, because you knew just how that felt. 

Luke has two brothers, Jack and Ben. You smiled and laughed as he told stories of his childhood and how he and all the guys got up too. 

You told them all about your brother, Jaxon. How he was back home in Nashville playing baseball and how he dreamed of going pro.  

Calum talked about his sister, how she visits every once and a while when she’s not in the studio or writing her own music. 

“Yeah, Mali lives in London so I don’t get to see her much. We talk at least twice a week just to catch up. She’s supposed to visit in a few months so you’ll get to meet her soon,” he smiles over at you. 

Mali is his sister? Well, that makes a whole lot of sense. 

“That’s great, I can’t wait to meet her!” you tell him, smiling over at him happily. 

You all talked for another hour or so, laughing and telling stories before you decided it was time to go. You said bye to everyone, hugging them and telling them you’d see them on friday when you and Alec met them at the studio after lunch. 

Calum politely walked you home just to be safe. 

“I had a great day, thank you for inviting us over. I know Elijah had a blast,” you tell him, smiling softly up at him. “You were so great with him, he’s normally pretty shy around new people.” 

“I did too, we’ll have to do it again.” he tells you. “He’s a great kid, he’s so adorable,” he tells you, smiling. 

“Definitely,” you nod up at him.

There was that awkward silence where you both just looked at each other, your eyes flicking between his as his eyes flicked over your face and fell to your plump lips. Your breath hitched as his eyes linger there before returning to your eyes. 

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he whispers, pulling you into a tight hug.

You relax in his arms, hugging him back as your face hides in his neck. “Goodnight, Cal” you whisper back lingering in the hug before he kisses the top of your head and lets go. 

“I’ll see you Friday,” he calls, descending the three steps of your  porch. 

“See you friday!” you call back before walking into your house. Your back pressing to the back of your front door as you let out a sigh, closing your eyes. 

“Oh my god! That was Calum Hood!,” you hear excitedly from your couch making your eyes pop wide open.

---

Taglist (striked out couldn’t be tagged - get added here -) @wontlastimokwiththat @doctcr-reid @harrystylesandharrypotter @vividstyles23 @thesadstoryofme @hufflepuffhaze @kuolonsyoja​ @lonelyheart5​ @kyleeisahotmess @wiiildflowerrr 

[renaerys]

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up. 

 "Albus!"

 The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

 Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

 "I am not an old wizard."

 "I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

 "I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

 "Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

 "She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation. 

 In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer. 

 "I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh. 

 "Not your type?"

 "No."

 "I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

 He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

 "See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

 The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after. 

 As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her. 

 Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar. 

 "It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet. 

 "Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

 Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

 "Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

 "It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling. 

 "That your mother would forget about you?"

 "I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

 Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again. 

 "Are you ever coming home?"

 "I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

 "I miss you." He whispered. 

 Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

 "That would blow your cover."

 "Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

 "I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

 It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

 He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

 "Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

 He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

 "Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

 "I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

 "Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

 "You too, Abs."

 "Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

 After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye. 

 *****

 "Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week." 

 With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense. 

 Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm. 

 "Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood. 

 "Um, working on inventory?"

 "How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

 "Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

 Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

 "Yeah, I'd love to."

 "Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

 "It'll be at least half an hour…." 

 Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

 "Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

 Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor. 

 "Are you joining us?" She called over. 

 "Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

 Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone. 

 Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

 "Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought. 

 "Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. " 

 Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again. 

 The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out. 

 "He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her. 

 In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right? 

 Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day. 

 Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment. 

 Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda. 

 "Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

 That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

 "And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

 The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish. 

 "Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench. 

 "Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips. 

 Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away. 

 For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush. 

 "Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda. 

 "Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again. 

 It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane. 

 Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

 "Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

 "Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show. 

 "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

 "Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow. 

 Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him. 

 "Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly. 

 It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more. 

 When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility. 

 "What's going on, Ivar?"

 "Something with work." 

 "Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

 He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

 "That's why you're going to Italy?"

 "Hmmm."

 "Will you be safe?"

 That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

 She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

 The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

 "Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him. 

 "Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

 "I promise. Not a word."

 "Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

 "That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

 "Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold. 

 She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it. 

 He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

 "I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle. 

 He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms. 

 With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. 

 "You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers. 

 "Maybe take the next flight?"

 "Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

 Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

 He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

 She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

 "Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment. 

 As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair. 

 "Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

 "I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

 "With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

 "Ivar…." She whined. 

 "You need more clothes, Kari."

 "Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

 He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

 "You're unbelievable."

 They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it. 

 "I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door. 

 "Okay. Be safe."

 "Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

 She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.  

 Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked. 

 "Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her. 

 The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

 *****

 Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening. 

 Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors. 

 Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball. 

 Now her mind scrambled as what to do next. 

 A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her. 

 "Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

 "Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer. 

 "Mind if I join you?"

 She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts. 

 Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening. 

 "What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading. 

 She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

 "Isn't that a movie?"

 She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

 He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

 "Nothing exciting. Yours?"

 "The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

 She winced. "I know the feeling."

 They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking. 

 The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

 "Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio. 

 Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive. 

 "What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work. 

 Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that. 

 "Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

 "Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

 "I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not. 

 "Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

 "Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

 Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

 Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself. 

 Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze. 

 "Did I fuck you?"

 What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

 Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

 Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut. 

 He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

 Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

 "Why? Because it's the truth?"

 "You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face. 

 Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.  

 His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

 "Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly. 

 "Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk. 

 "He's, um…"

 "A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

 "I was going to say intense."

 Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family." 

 Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

 Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer. 

 "Ivar and I share her."

 Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions. 

 "That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly. 

 "Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

 "Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today? 

 Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

 "I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

 "No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

 She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

 "You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

 "Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari. 

 Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him. 

 Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

 "What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.  

 "He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

 "What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

 "What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice. 

 "No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

 "So, what happened?"

 "Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

 He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

 "Oh good."

 "Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

 "He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. 

 "I'd recommend wearing one of those."

 She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?" 

 "What?"

 "Buy me stuff."

 "Does it bother you?"

 "I don't know."

 "If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

 She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

 "How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later. 

 He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

 "He's complex." She agreed. 

 "That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

 "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

 "Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

 Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her. 

 Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

 He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

 "No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

 "You really don't care about our money, do you?"

 "No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money? 

 He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

 "Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze. 

 He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

 "You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

 "Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

 She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

 "You keep telling yourself that."

 They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors. 

 "Mmmm…."

 "What?" She looked up at him. 

 He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

 "Gods, Hvitserk!"

 *****

 Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text. 

 Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

 A silly smile on her face, she replied. 

 Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

 After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

[bangteamhyuk]

Moving On

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Producer! Min Yoongi

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, contains heavy argument (One Shot)

Word count: 3,850k

Synopsis: You went back with Yoongi to your old apartment before moving on to the next. While cleaning, fixing, and rummaging all of the things inside, you two began to reminisce your life when you were still building your dreams together. Until he saw his old broken piano, then reality hits the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” you tried to catch your breath after rushing on to the stairs. Three floors were pretty tough for someone bringing cleaning tools, while hoping not to disappoint the person who was waiting for you for half an hour on the other end.

Yoongi turned around and crouched down a bit to see if you are fine “It’s okay. I’m sure you have reasons” He took the broomstick from your hand and put it together with the big vacuum cleaner he was holding. He paused for a moment and smiled at the sight of a white but clear oval diamond ring you were wearing. Your engagement rings.

You quickly blushed and turned away, flustered at the sight of Yoongi smiling at you. “Bunch of Min residents. Still cracks me up” you chuckled at the stick figure faces of you and Yoongi looking mean as the welcome door mat.

“Yeah, you thought of that” he pulled out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“But you were the one who drew those faces, Yoongi Matisse” you remarked as you fixed your hair. He scoffed as he put on his hairband.

“Ready to clean our stuff?” he asked. You nodded.

Yoongi went inside first and opened the curtain from the window on the front, giving light inside the studio apartment that were filled with dusts and memories. You followed. You turned around to see cobwebs around the table occupied with pictures, knick-knacks from all the travel you two had been, and even crumpled grocery receipts hidden on the side.

“5 good years huh?” you spoke, brushing your finger on the table to see how much dirt occurred over the years.

“Uhuh, 5 good years, and now we’re ready to move out Y/N” he replied.

“Look if we put the couch on the center, our visitor might think we’re bunch of couch potatoes. First impression last babe” you reasoned, as you sat beside Yoongi on the bare wooden floor of the room.

He shook his head “Y/N, I’m just saying that we needed to be reminded that it’s okay to rest once we get home, that’s why I was thinking that the couch should be there. Besides are we really going to admit and entertain guess here?” he gave you one tough argument that was hard not to consider.

“Ok fine, but what if I’m feeling a little frisky and want to do it while we watch TV? And then a burglar came from the door, right?” you turn to look at him with conviction in your eyes then continued “All I’m trying to say is that, putting it on the center have its disadvantage. Would you want your dick to be seen by a stranger, worse to a voyeur burglar?” you raised your arms and pointed it with your open palms at a non-existent couch against the other side of the empty room.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth in disgust “I can’t believe hearing this poor argument just to convince me in putting…” he paused then sighed “Fine, let’s put the TV and couch on the right side and the dinner table at the center” he conceded.

“Happy girlfriend equals happy life” you smiled at your victory. Yoongi turned to you and smiled dryly. You chuckled.

“We’re going to build our dreams here…” he spoke softly while staring at the open window in the midst of vacant space between the two of you. You stared at him and lingered for a moment.

“Yes, we will” you smiled, as you turned to stare at the open window as well, filling the bareness of the room with all your hopes and dreams together, as you closed your eyes.

“Achoo!” you sneezed as you open your eyes again, while patting the dusted couch and pulling the cushion seats out. Yoongi was mopping the hardwood floor, while you on the other hand was preparing to vacuum the old couch. Suddenly you saw something, you didn’t expect.

“Ugh Yoongi!” you burst into laughter. “What?” Yoongi quickly went towards you on the old couch as you pulled out something hidden underneath the seat.

“Your dried out condom! Ugh, gross!” you exclaimed as he grinned showing you his gummy smile that you love so dearly “I told you to put them to the trash, every time! Ugh! Good thing I found it before we sell these…” your face turned sour as you held on its tip and quickly tossed it on to the trash bin. “You know what, I think we should hand them over to the cleaners first before selling them. It’s been unused for 2 years…”

“You know for 5 years since we planned to put furniture on our place, I just realized we had a really great time with that couch” he stressed the world ‘really’ which made you blushed immediately, and well a bit annoyed at the same time. “Not once did we had any visitor, not even that voyeur burglar you were talking about” he raised one of his eye brow and smirked.

You quickly pulled out the dusted pillow and threw at him. “What? I’m just saying it wouldn’t matter if we put it on the center or not.” he laughed.

“Okay, Nostradamus. Let’s get back to business. I have book signing to attend to later” you turned your back to continue cleaning the couch while you heard him chuckle once more and resumed to mop the floor.

“What’s this surprise?” you tried to reach out for something, while Yoongi was making sure you can’t see anything through the blindfold.

“Take another two steps to the front. Here. Great. Now! The big reveal!” he slowly opened the blindfold as he showed you his D-I-Y wooden desk situated beside the apartment’s lone window.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” You gasped. “You made these? Even the succulents on the desk?” you hurriedly went to your new work desk and examined everything over and underneath it. You opened one of the drawers and saw a 20-dollar cat design fountain pen you’ve been eyeing for weeks in the department store “Yoongi, thank you!” you held it to your chest.

“Well, I did the wood work but not the succulents. I just..” he scratched the back of his neck. “add that for a little touch, you know, something to ease your stress when writing stories”

You quickly ran up to him for a kiss. “Yoongi, thank you! I love it! I love you!” he grinned.

“Can you kiss me again? Maybe deepen it?” you obliged, but parted for a second. “But if my work space is on the window then… where is yours?” you asked.

He shrugs. “I can stay at our bed. I mean, I’m sure you don’t make much sound when your busy so it’s okay. I just needed a laptop and my guitar to make music” you smiled weakly. “It’s really okay babe, it’s a win-win situation. Look at this way, if you put my workspace near the window, I might include unnecessary noise from the outside. This is great!” he hugged you tight, assuring you that all is well.

“We’ll make our dreams happen in this apartment, you and I” he kissed your forehead, reminding you that you are not alone in this city trying to make it big one day. “I’m here for you always Y/N”

“I’ll always be here for you too Yoongi. We will definitely make it happen” you closed your eyes, and rest your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a while.

“How much do you think this desk would cost?” you tap the pen on your cheek.

“I deserve a $200 for this!” he pointed at the desk. “It took me a day to figure out how to assemble everything, and I had to scratch each side with a small sandpaper for an hour Y/N! An hour! Just so you wouldn’t get hurt over its sharp edges. So yes, I demand a $200 refund for this!” he raised his eyebrow to show you how much he protests at the thought of not being able to find a just compensation for his hard work.

“But Yoongi, it’s been used for over 3 years and unused for over 2, so expect it has some scratches around and the faint smell of old wood, so $100?” you examined the whole piece, while waiting for Yoongi to agree

He closed his eyes and shook his head “175!”

“150? Last price” you faced him.

“Fine. 150” he sighed, finally agreeing to the unjust price. You then wrote the price on the note pad.

Yoongi crouched down and rummaged through the piles of things on the floor, left untouched for 2 years and saw something familiar.

“Yoongi, what if we include the chair and then we can ask for $200 deal—” you stopped midway as you saw Yoongi pulled out his electric piano, all broken.

“Open the box babe!” you watched him open the huge ribbon and tore out the wrapper on the floor. You went to the table and refilled two glasses with cheap wine.

“Oh babe, you don’t have to” he gently pulled the brand new portable electric piano from the box.

“Happy 3rd anniversary!” you handed over his share of wine. As he pulled you down to where he sat, and you fell on his lap. “Oops, careful the wine might---”  He didn’t even let you finish when he kissed you hard just to show you how grateful he was for the gift.

“Mmm…” you chuckled as you parted from the kiss and turn to the piano. You brushed your fingertips at the piano keys and smile “The greatest song of all time will be made here, in this piano. I’m claiming it!”

He hugged you tight as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I definitely will. I love you so much!”

“You know, we can still have that fixed and sell it for…”

“No!” he exclaimed sternly. “I’ll keep it” he looked down; a bit embarrassed at his quick reaction.

You looked away, unsure what to say. You thought it was useless to keep something old and broken, but you guess it’s better that way. To let him keep a piece of you, the old you that he once knew.

“Congratulation’s Min Yoongi!” you popped the party pooper from the front door surprising Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the live steam? The song I produced didn’t won” he closed the door and tossed the key to table.

“Doesn’t matter, the real winner is at home now! Yay!” you blew the party horn from his side, playfully tickling his ears. He brushed it down and pulled himself away, clearly annoyed.

You followed him still “It was great! The KMA failed to recognize it this year, who knows the next song you produ--- ”

“I don’t care about next year, or the next, and the next after that! It’s been 3 years, Y/N. 3 years since we’ve moved here and where has it gotten us? Nowhere!” he snapped.

You opened your mouth but quickly withdrew as you knew that saying anything further might make him more upset. “Baby, I…” you pulled him for a hug and gently stroke his back. “I understand how frustrated you are…” he shook his head and gently stepped away.

“No, you don’t. It’s easy for you to say, having a stable office job while you write as a hobby. But I only know how to produce music, it’s the only job I know! You don’t get to know, because you don’t have to rely for an award to know how good or shitty your stories are!” he snapped in anger.

You bit your lips and tried to process the situation, hoping you’ll say something to make him feel okay “Yoongi, I’m sorry that I don’t get to know that, but you know that I didn’t have much choice, but if I could I wanted to write full-time and you know that… We needed something on our table and---”

“So, it’s my fault now? That doing pizza delivery as part-time is not enough?” he didn’t even let you finished.

“I’m not saying that!” you finally cried, as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hands in frustration.

“Well then, tell me what? Because I find it hard to convince myself that it is not what you meant” he gave a sarcastic chuckle.

“Yoongi, why are we doing this? I’m just trying to help. Didn’t you say we’re going to make our dreams come true in this city, in this place, together!?”

“Well, you’re not helping, and clearly it isn’t happening.” He looked away as he took the opened bottle of wine you left on the table and chugged on it.

You looked to the ceiling and let out a long sigh “You know, I tried. For 3 years…” you nodded to yourself as you stared at the ceiling for a moment then at Yoongi. “I’ve seen you struggled. I’ve seen you succeed. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. I saw you strive hard than anyone can in making songs, several of it! It was great, and I’m not just saying it because you’re my boyfriend but because I believe in you Yoongi. I believe in you, because I love you. I trust you no matter what, I trust that you’ll make it happen… Make US happen!” you paused.

“…But the way that’s been going lately? The way you pushed me aside, not wanting to talk things over. Having more arguments with you each day. Aren’t you tired? Instead of growing together, we’re just…growing apart!” you continued, shutting your eyes to the cold reality. You took a deep breath and pulled a glass from the kitchen sink and filled it water. You drank a glass full of it, hoping it’ll drown down the pain. He fell silent.

“You know what? Let’s…” you sighed at the thought “Break-up” you took your spare key and your bag hanging from the wall.

“Fine, leave!” he hit something aimlessly and heard a shriek of mismatched melody from the electric piano. You turned your back to see it, the electric piano you bought for him, broken and damaged. Like the way you and Yoongi are…

Silence.

You cleared your throat and began writing notes on your pad.

“When’s the wedding?” he turned to you while you sat a far from him.

“Next year, June 1st” you replied softly, resisting to look his way.

“Park Jimin’s a good guy…” he smiled weakly.

“He is.” You nodded. Then silence.

The only thing that broke the monotony of stillness between you and Yoongi within those four walls, was the sudden sound of a person knocking on the door from the other side. Yoongi slowly stood up, and went to the door to open and see who it was.

“Well, speak of the devil” he bit his lip and smiled at him. He wasn’t bitter or anything, in fact his smile was sincere after seeing what was in front of him, a genuine smile from you upon seeing the person you love, even if it was not him any longer.

He thought how bittersweet it was, to be someone looking through a window from the outside looking in, because he once knew what it feels like to be the source of your happiness. That smile he vividly recalls, even when he closed his eyes. Every outline, every mole, everything about you, he commits to memory even now that you’re gone.

“Are you ready for your book signing love?” Jimin chuckled.

“Did you get me food on the way?” you narrowed your prying eyes towards Jimin

He nodded “Cheeseburger with double patties, no onions but with extra pickles” he tilts his head to have you scoot over to his side.

You grinned, as you took your purse and ran towards Jimin. “See you tomorrow then? For the contract signing with Mrs. Song?” you turned your back to remind Yoongi.

Yoongi nods. “This apartment is already sold, so we just need our signatures to seal all deals”

“Mm, well, thanks. Congratulations by the way for winning KMA and MAMA for 2 consecutive years” you smiled.

“Well, the performer has a big participation to it too” he turned towards Jimin, as he shyly smiled and shook his head. “Hyung, really it’s the best music of all time!”

He raised his shoulder and looked at the dusted piano left on the floor “Not nearly, no…”

“Guess we’ll see each other around?” Jimin smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, see you” Yoongi smiled and watched you two leave.

Jimin helped you with your seatbelt as he pulled out something from the backseat.

“Iced Café Latte with grainy sugar for my beloved fiancé” he handed out

“How come you always knew the perfect time I want my coffee?” he shrugs.

“I’ve gotten some information” he winks at you and started the engine.

“Hyung, there you are. I’ve been looking for you” Jimin sat beside Yoongi under a cherry blossom outside their music studio office.

“It’s break time and it’s spring, when can I have my peace?” he turned away, looking annoyed.

“Well, I’ve been thinking if we can add more lyrics to this verse? And…” Yoongi’s phone suddenly rang to notify a text, as Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw his phone glow, displaying a photo of you that Yoongi took when you two were still together. “You know Y/N?”

“Yeah, why?” Yoongi tilt his head, clearly confused as to why Jimin knew who you are.

“But he’s my girlfriend, hyung!” he stood up, almost as if ready to fight.

“Well, um, this awkward” he squint his eyes, unbothered at Jimin’s reaction “I didn’t know really that you are…” he opened his mouth then withdrew, finding words how to explain the situation “I don’t know how to say this to you but, he’s my ex”

The two of them, chatted for a while, agreeing on things that annoys Jimin and the things you used to annoy Yoongi.

“Do you still love her?” Jimin turned to Yoongi, his face sullen, hoping that he would like to hear Yoongi’s answer from his query.

He breathed hard “You know kid, you’ll never stop loving a person even if they’re gone. Even if you were left by time, leaving you to oblivion, making you a faint memory from that person. You just don’t” he took his coffee from the vending machine that was sitting on his side and drank before he continued.

“But that doesn’t mean you want that person to be there for you forever. Knowing that she’s happy, well even more happy without me by his side, that’s more than enough. Isn’t that what love is supposed to be? Even when it doesn’t feel like romance, it changes into something, something that transcends beyond it. I can’t explain kid, but you’ll understand it someday” he turned to Jimin, hoping he didn’t touch a nerve that would make him angry.

“I really love her, hyung. My manager’s pretty upset about this whole relationship situation but I couldn’t care anymore. If they find out about us or not, I don’t care!  I’d rather admit the truth than deny and hurt her, she doesn’t deserve that. I just, I feel like she’s the one even when she’s moody and all” Jimin shyly confessed.

Yoongi nods “Jimin, you should know several things so you could avoid argument with Y/N. First, of all never underestimate her love for coffee. Never.” He straightened his palm to emphasize his statement.

“She loves coffee first thing in the morning, do not talk to her without her having a coffee yet, under any circumstance. Well, unless you don’t want a great day ahead of you, you could, but I do not recommend it all. Speaking of coffee, she would want one after having a stressful day or any stressful situation she was in. But this is important, take note, she likes sweet coffee and bitter ones on the morning.”

Jimin listened to him attentively as Yoongi continued “If she writes story, she’ll want you to read it from start to end. Do it and be honest, she hates mediocre comments so you have to be tedious about reading it. She loves it when you ask, so that’s a tip. If you fail to read everything, you can ask her. Oh, but be careful about your questions, because she’ll know when you didn’t read it all and she’ll be really upset”

Yoongi chuckled upon remembering how you love to eat unlimited BBQs “She also loves meat, like seriously a lot! So treat her to BBQs every often or else she’ll get moody for a month. She’s a heavy drinker too, so ready your liver and try to keep up with her. And lastly, never end the day without telling her how you truly feel, she’ll appreciate it, whatever it is that’s on your mind tell her. I can see the way she looks at you in that picture” he peered through Jimin’s phone on the side which was glowing due to several notifications “because that was how she used to look at me too. I bet she’ll understand you. She now loves you Jimin.”

It was already night time when Yoongi finished cleaning the room and putting everything that you two wanted to sell inside a big box. Yoongi looks at the broken piano and stared at it for a moment “I guess the greatest song of all time were never made” he stood up, picked it up and took it with him, as walked towards the door way.

He looked at the empty room, one last time “This place still smells like us, let’s not forget this scent wherever we are” he spoke softly to himself and turned the lights off.

He closed the door and saw the doormat again.

“Bunch of Min residents” you drew on the doormat. He chuckled “That’s pretty witty, wait let me add a little touch” he took the marker from you and drew your faces which made you two laughed even harder.

“This is a masterpiece! We need everyone to see this!” you quickly went to the door and put it on the entryway.

Yoongi smiled as he watched you from the couch and sighed at the thought of wanting to be with you forever. He just knew from that moment on you were the one.

He rolled the mat from the floor and tossed it to the nearest trash bin.

He knew it was too late for regrets, but at the same time he knew it was for the better. Whatever happened in the past brought you two to where you are all supposed to be now: Happy, contented but apart.

All the memories, your hopes and dreams that you two shared together, are now gone. Cleaned to make room for another one.

He looked at the door and smiled weakly “Ijen, Annyeong (Goodbye now)” and left.

Let’s move Goodbye to this place, that we grew attached to Let’s move Now to a higher place While taking the last box out of the empty room I looked back for a moment Times we cried and laughed Goodbye now

Moving On- BTS

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for getting here. Hope you’ll also like the spin-off series for this: Seesaw (Teaser)

[gingersnappe-9]

Quisiera: Growing Pains (2)

Javier Peña / F!Reader; Post Narcos

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1.9K words

Summary: You have a lot on your mind. You never expected Javi to be one of them. But that's nothing a good soak can't fix, right?

Warnings: mention of loss of parent & degenerative diseases, minor depictions of sexual thoughts, minor profanity

A/N: because I'm a major dork, and no one asked, I created the floor plan for the reader's house and my friend @followwhereshegoes designed it in Sims for me. The photos are at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Your hair blew in the wind as you drove your work-beaten Ford F-250 home. Papers from a long day of checking up on animals and livestock fluttered beneath your now empty thermos for coffee. Your head bobbed with the familiar bumps and turns of the road as you drove home. The ride wasn’t unlike it had been any other day, but as you pulled into your driveway and peaked to the left and you knew he would be there. You had known for a few weeks now that Javi had been back. On a courtesy visit for Don Jesús -- Javi’s dad -- he had mentioned his son might be returning to Texas soon. That had to have been roughly two, maybe three months ago?

You never thought you would see him again. The kid who always thought he knew best. The one who was so sure of himself and that the world was his oyster. You weren’t surprised that he didn’t recognize you though. That was Javi you grew up with. This Javier was different. It was plain to see that he carried a weight with him. Knowing the things he knew, holding on to whatever he’d done in the back of his mind now and forever. He wasn’t the bright and shiny version of Javi you once knew, but he was still as golden as ever.

As you hopped out of the car and twirled the keys on your finger, you were beyond satisfied at your decision to postpone your reunion with Javi. Crossing the threshold of your house you recalled how panicked he looked. The quick flashes of “oh shit” in his eyes before he masked his uncertainty with precision and a charming smile. To others, he played it off fine, but you knew Javi before he was Agent Peña. You’d practically grown up with him so you were privy to those subtle tells.

Javi’s abuelos moved to be closer to their son and his family. His grandparents and your parents met in English class after they moved to America and the families stayed close ever since. Javi’s family was from Mexico, and yours came from Colombia. Each of your tíos and tías helped watch and raise you and your primos. While most of your blood relatives were still in Colombia, you loved your found family here in the States. All of the birthdays spent in one another’s backyards with copious amounts of candy that came pouring out of piñatas. Big Christmas gatherings with mountains of food like ponche, pozole verde, and dulcitos like your favorite manjar blanco. Above all, you remember the laughter.

You laughed so much as a child. Someone could look at you in such a way and you would have burst out into a fit of giggles and happy squeals. It was a bittersweet thing to recall. Things were just… different now. You grew up. Life changed, you certainly had.

This was the home your parents had built not too long after they came to America. You still felt like a little kid playing house sometimes. Being the sole occupant felt strange after the years you spent growing up with the place bursting with laughter, people, and above all love. But life changed. Your mother had died of a heart attack the year before you finished vet school. Ten years back, your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia and it was left to you to make the hard decision of placing him in a nursing home. You couldn’t care for him with the hours you worked at the clinic, and you didn’t think your heart could bear seeing the man you admired slowly fade away. It made you feel awful to admit, but there was only so much a heart could take. It could’ve been different if you still had your mamá, but it was just you.

Your body hitched a bit as you bent over to pull the dirt caked boots off your feet. Growing up is fun, they said. They never mentioned anything about rapid onset aches and pains once you passed thirty. You loved being a vet, you loved taking care of horses and all manner of livestock; being there for the folks who relied on you, but man alive was it taxing on the body.

As you padded your way into the study just to the left of the front door, you dropped the excess paperwork and lunch pale on your desk; your boots onto the old mat so as to not spread anymore dirt in the house. Trying your best to properly file away your paperwork, billing receipts and lists of future visits, you found your mind wandering back to Javier.

The wonderful way his bone structure had sharpened with age. Yeah he was a good looking teenage boy -- a bit on the thin side, but strong in body and mind -- but this version of Javi was a stud. His skin was naturally tanner than some, but it was even more bronzed by the sun from his time down in Colombia. A man with strong looking hands that wrapped the circumference of the tumbler glass filled with neat whiskey meanwhile yours could only manage to get around halfway. You were extremely annoyed at how he could pull off a damn mustache without looking like a creep. Finding that you were spending far too much time thinking about Javier Peña rather than getting your ass ready for bed, you set off on your nightly routine.

Pushing yourself up and out of the desk chair was more tiresome than you would have liked to admit, but not impossible. You then opened the door that led into your bedroom. It still felt a bit weird to call it your bedroom after all this time.

You had redecorated the place to your tastes. The main bedroom now had a beautiful four post bed with pleated gossamer drapes around the posts. The warm wood bureau and doors matched the deep trim of the window sills and frames throughout the house. You removed your everyday jewelry and placed them in the little wooden dishes you had bought in Colombia the last time you visited. You had just turned twenty two then, and didn’t care to remember how old you were now. Admiring the fine artistry of the delicately carved lines and lacquered scenery of a village always brought back fine memories, summers spent in a home away from home. Peeling off your work clothes proved a bit more challenging now that your muscles and bones had started to stiffen from the wear of the workday. You walked into your bathroom as naked as the day you were born, a small perk of having moved into the main bedroom since it had an ensuite bathroom.

After the long day, a shower just didn’t seem like it was going to cut it. You pivoted to the left and began to draw a steaming hot bath. A few drops of essential oil were splashed into the piping hot water. Your abuelita did always say, “Medicina cuando la necesita, pero los remedios naturales siempre son los mejores.”

Medicine when you need it, but natural remedies are always best.

Once the tub was filled as high as it could go and still accommodate your body, the taps were shut off, and you slipped into the warm bliss. The water worked its magic while you turned on a small radio that sat on the windowsill. It was tuned in to some station based in Mexico that always played música rancheras. You were a self-proclaimed “old soul” and loved your parents' generational music. It was a not-so-guilty-pleasure for you. Even when you were younger, some of the other kids made fun of you for not liking the more modern music. But your mom always reassured you it was because you were un romántico. A romantic.

The soulful melodies and elegant guitar echoed through the steam from the bath as your aches and pains were softly pulled from your bones. The sky outside the window was a dusty pink muddled with orange. The heat from the bath was wonderful. Your mind wandered ever farther as you sunk deeper into relaxation. Tonight was one of those evenings you imagined someone else in the tub with you, it was one of the reasons you’d thrown in a couple extra bucks when you redid the bathroom. You imagined leaning against their chest, them running their hands up and down the inner part of your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted their touch the most.

Big and strong hands. Ones that weren’t afraid to leave an imprint, a reminder of their presence. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of them gently pressing and squeezing into your thighs, chest, and hips. The fantasy completed itself when you put a face to this mystery man.

Warm brown eyes, a well-defined jaw, somewhat pouty lips that practically begged you to kiss them with a fucking mustache of all things. You imagined the sound of his voice right next to your ear, whispering dirty things while he continued to paw at your body with confidence. The fresh recall of your most recent conversation made the day dream seem all the more real. It was intimate, enticing. You hadn't had any real boyfriend in a while and with the luscious way the water lapped over your skin, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together unconsciously as his conjured words echoed in your mind.

You feel so soft, Armorsita. Do you like when I touch you here, baby? Oh, you do. I can tell. Mi dama. Tell me. Tell me how much you like it, how much you love being mine. Let me have you, all of you. Let me show you just how much I love touching you right…

Your mind snapped back when your head slipped from its perch on the back of the tub. The room felt steamier than it had before even as the water temperature had dipped to lukewarm.

Was I really just fantasizing about Javier Peña of all people?

It was official then. You needed to get into bed and sleep off whatever delusions these were and come back to reality.

Fully washed and dried, you finished your routine by lathering yourself in your favorite lavender body lotion. Your body felt much better without the thin layer of Texas dust smothering your skin. Something different, however, clouded your mind, or rather, someone. It was a bit alarming how easily Javier permeated your idle thoughts. The encounter suddenly became very clear.

Why did you say goodnight as sultry as you did? Was that even sultry? Why do I keep thinking about it being “sultry”?

Your mind recalled the brief moment your lips touched his cheek. It wasn’t unlike any other time you kissed a friend goodbye. You’d been doing it forever. It was how you said goodbye. You knew that, and so did he. So why did it carve out its own special place in your mind? Why were the sensations so clear and vidid? Why did you so badly want to do it again and again without pause?

Of course your mind would fixate on the person who had just recently come back into your life. It was only natural. Humans are designed to notice differences. It’s a survival technique. To pay attention to possible threats. And you had yet to make up your mind if you considered this version of Javier Peña a friend or foe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @betti-book @mcueveryday @athalien

[flowesona]

The Midnight Channel [1/2]

Yandere ??? x reader

Inspired by Persona 4 (2008)

“Have you heard about the midnight channel?” (Y/N) dragged her attention away from the rain drumming on the window of her classroom to see her friend leaning over to talk to her. 

“What?”

“If you look at the TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” Jungkook rested his chin on his hand as he spoke wistfully.

“Come on. Don’t tell me you believe in that nonsense? Sounds like someone made it up when they were bored.” (Y/N) snorted, but ceased her laughter when he didn’t seem to waver. 

“You’re kidding me?” Now, their friend Taehyung, who’s been quietly eating his lunch and enjoying their company joined the conversation to take (Y/N)’s side.

It was ridiculous to say the least. Jungkook was a reasonably intelligent guy. There was no way he could think all that soulmate hokey-pokey was legitimate, right? 

“Well, I know a friend who tried it, and he said it worked. We should try it tonight!”

“Yeah, right.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his lunch now forgotten as he dragged his chair closer to (Y/N)’s to help defend her side of the argument.

“Who do you think you’ll see?” (Y/N) humoured, only for Jungkook to shake his head somberly.

“Not saying. But we have to try it, I trust Namjoon to tell the truth-”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Her friend was cut off by a sudden voice. A young man was standing next to her desk, rocking on his heels. Lunch was coming to a close and people were starting to reenter the classroom and take their seats, yet this pupil was drawn to stand by her desk instead.

“Hey…” She felt guilty for not remembering his name, letting her voice trail away.

“I heard that you’re single. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?” The boy had such a giddy smile on his face it unsettled her to no end. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you well enough.” (Y/N) tried to reject him as politely as she could, but he seemed adamant. 

“Just give me a chance? Please? I know I’m not the best looking guy around, what with that idol back in town, but I promise I will treat you like a superstar!” The raising of his voice was starting to draw attention to the duo, people even peeking in from the corridor to get a peek at the drama going down. 

(Y/N) felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Sure, this boy seemed nice enough, but there was something about his smile that was so forced it hurt to look at.

“Leave me alone, I said-”

“Mr Kang, I don’t believe this is your classroom. Get out.” Before the situation could escalate any further, the student was grabbed by the scruff of his collar and pushed towards the door without the chance to say another word. The onlookers dismissed themselves, their chatter filling the halls.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

If having to deal with one clueless boy was bad enough, (Y/N) found herself being plagued by another before the day was through. Whilst Jimin had an undeniably kind heart and his softly spoken words were often what she leant on when times were tough, she wasn’t in the mood for company.

“You’re sure that you don’t want to come to my place? You know my mom’s an amazing cook, and I rented that new movie just in time for-”

“I’d rather just go home, Jimin. It’s been a tough day. Maybe another time.” (Y/N) gave her friend a reassuring smile before leaving, droplets of rain making her shiver lightly and clutch her parka over her body just a bit tighter.

Even so Jimin trailed after her, hoping to change her mind by gently pushing his umbrella into her hands so she wouldn’t get as soaked as she first expected and whilst the heartfelt gesture was appreciated, she was exhausted and not ready to deal with another person snapping at her heels.

After two minutes she stopped to talk, turning briefly to address the student, whose gaze resembled that of a kicked puppy more than anything.

“Go home, Jimin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She plugged her earphones into her ears and let herself finally breathe as she heard his footsteps slowly fading, the light rain tapping against her umbrella in a soothing manner to 

Distract her from the embarrassing scene from earlier in the day. She became so caught up in her music she ended up colliding into someone’s chest. 

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spat at her. His blonde hair was becoming matted with rain and his clothes were barely protected by the heavy leather jacket as the downpour became heavier by the minute.

“I’m sorry. Here, do you need my umbrella?” 

The boy grimaced before reaching out to take it. Before he turned away, (Y/N) heard a quiet ‘thank you’ from under his breath as she took off in the opposite direction to get home before she became fully drenched.

Unbeknownst to her in her panic, the boy was staring after her, fingers clenched so tightly around the flimsy plastic handle that it was starting to hurt.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Rumours were quick to spread in the usually sleepy town. With its only claim to fame being the birthplace of a famous idol, people clung to whatever excitement they could find, and (Y/N) had already had several people texting her to ask about the dramatic event and offer words of comfort.

As she desperately tried to cheer herself up with a cup of cocoa and the warmth of her blanket, (Y/N) was still restless. She glanced over at the TV in her room, a big enough flat screen she’d weedled her mother into buying with her only child privileges. 

“If you look into your TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” 

She let out a chuckle at the thought. Yet, she couldn’t help glancing out the window to see the rain pelting down, nor checking her alarm clock to see it was three minutes to midnight.

There was no harm in giving it a try, right? After all, she could shove it in Jungkook’s face when she could conclusively say it was a stupid legend.

Suddenly, as she was caught up in her thoughts not even realising that she’d been staring into the screen in her daydream, the TV crackled to life. Through the heavy static she could see a figure. 

As shadowy as it was, she could somewhat make out Taehyun’s figure, seeing as his visage had all but plagued her for the day. (Y/N) shook her head, trying to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating but the image was gone as soon as she opened her eyes, leaving her kneeling in front of a blank TV screen.

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

(Y/N) felt completely disgraced the next day. She could hear people whispering all around her about what had happened yesterday, how she’d rejected someone in such a cold manner. The story had flown around the school overnight, much to her dismay.

“Taehyun hasn’t turned up at school today. Do you think he’s heartbroken?” (Y/N) overheard a couple of her classmates gossiping.

“Poor guy. He just wanted a chance but she’s humiliated him in front of everyone.” One of the other girls replied. (Y/N) stood up abruptly, letting her chair fall onto the floor with a loud clang.

The noise drew everyone’s attention to her, but she just walked out trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

“(Y/N)!” She heard someone calling her name but it was white noise.

It wasn’t until there was a hand on her shoulder to stop her in her place that she snapped out of her hysteria.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Through her slightly blurry vision she could make out Jimin, his face crumpled with concern.

“I-I-I’m fine!” She choked out.

“Is it that guy who was bothering you yesterday? We can just bunk off school today and you don’t have to see him. How does that sound? Let’s-”

“Leave me alone Jimin.” (Y/N) finally said with a heavy sigh. He was sweet, and she could tell he cared, but she just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“You don’t mean that, right?” Her friend was shocked at her abruptness, when she would normally find a much sweeter way to reject him.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, turning to walk away and her herself in the library only to have her hand snatched back.

“Whatever is wrong, you know you have me, right? If you want me to fight that Taehyun boy to the death I’ll do it to make you happy.” Jimin was almost pathetic in how he was pleading for her company. “Just let me help you.”

(Y/N) just slapped his hand away.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” She snapped, leaving the rejected boy to wallow in pity as she stormed off. Once again all eyes were on her, and regret was starting to build up, but she brushed it off in her pursuit of some serenity in the library.

The library, whilst still crammed full of students studying for their exams, provided some solice. The kind eyed library assistant had led her to a corner amongst the history books, and whilst he opened his mouth to say something - presumbaly to suggest a book, or offer her a drink - he closed it again upon seeing her stormy expression, and left her in peace.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Feeling more isolated and hated than before, (Y/N) spent the evening in bed with a book Jungkook had lent her, trying to immerse herself in the fictional world rather than facing the real one. However, the rain pattering against her window reminded her of last night. Was seeing Taehyun on there a trick of the eye? Was he really her soulmate? Or was there something more to it?

With her restless mind she was still awake as the clock crept towards midnight and, unable to quell her mind and knelt in front of her cold black television screen.

Once again, it flickered to life. But this time, rather than just showing a silhouette, there was something happening.

It was Taehyun, and he was crawling away from some other shadowy figure, obscured by the strong static.

“No… you’re not… I  love…” Through the muffled sound she could hear his voice, crying out as if he was witnessing a monstrosity. Her hand almost wanted to reach out to touch him, but she was frozen in place, only able to watch. She saw a flash of his face, terrified beyond all else, before the image cut out entirely.

She leant forward again, trying to see if it would come back, but the TV stayed black.  Switching it on only showed a late night horror movie, not the scene that she’d seen before. 

Was Jungkook’s friend right about the Midnight Channel showing your soulmate? Was she mistaken to reject the eager boy? And more importantly, what was happening to him? Was he in trouble?

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Maybe it was the caffeine from doubling the espresso in her usual coffee, but (Y/N) knew from the moment she stepped out the door that something was wrong.

The fog was so thick that (Y/N) could barely see ten metres in front of her. Still she persisted, hoping that by being early she could get an extra hour of studying in before someone would bother her. There was the occasional passerby - one of the school librarians hurrying past with a heavy book bag weighing down his back, a shopkeeper with their keys in hand to open up in time, and a leather-wearing stranger on a noisy motorbike. Even with these small reminders that civilization was alive and well amidst the weather, there was still an eerie atmosphere.

And (Y/N) was right to be afraid. The fog’s density was not enough to hide the secret waiting for (Y/N) as she turned the corner. When her eyes landed on the sight she staggered back, the urge to puke stronger rising up.

There was a corpse dangling from the telephone line.

Everything seemed to blur together, from her screaming for help to one of the passersby calling the authorities in the place of the shell shocked (Y/N), to someone finally pulling her away and covering her eyes.

Her mind was static as she felt someone comforting her, pressing her face to their hard chest. The regular heartbeat helped soothe her breathing, and the scent of cologne enveloped her sense to numb the pain. 

She didn’t question the comfort for a second, relishing the warmth and protection from the sight that was sure to haunt her for the rest of her life. The sight of her former admirer, a sweet innocent student, hanging from the telephone pole.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). Don’t look. You’re safe.”

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re telling me prior to yesterday you had no contact with Mr Kang at all?” For what felt like the hundredth time that day, (Y/N) shook her head.

“Well, as soon as you sign your statement you’ll be free to leave. Take care.” The detective didn’t offer her any consolation as (Y/N) attempted a signature with her shaky hands.

She was so ready to collapse into her bed, but there was still something tugging at her.

“Do you know about the midnight channel?” She spoke up, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Is this related to the case at hand, Miss (L/N)?” The detective had a sour grimace, his forehead creased with the stress at hand, and (Y/N) felt slightly worried about poking the bear.

She shook off the feeling.

“I’m not sure. But thank you, I’ll go now.”

It couldn’t be just a coincidence. There was some connection, and (Y/N) wanted to seek the truth even if the police force could not.

Stepping outside, she felt a weight on her chest as heavy as the fog. Somewhere in the sleepy town was a murderer. They were perfectly blended in, you could see that much. Life was going on, people briefly discussing the murder under hushed breath before discussing the more conventional gossip aloud.

Even with some unknown guilt burdening her mind, (Y/N) could slip into life again as she found her friends waiting outside for her, Jungkook giving her a warm hug and Taehyung offering her a bottle of water seeing how wearing the morning had been. 

Even as she walked home with her friends, there was still something amiss in their sleepy town. And the trouble lay closer than she could possibly imagine.

Part 2/2 coming 11/09/20

[enigma-im]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Rating: Teen Relationship: Space Orc x F!Human Warnings: angst, avoidance, emotional constipation, repression, fluff, space orc

Word Count: 3812

insecurities are like another person in a relationship, whispering in the other’s ears till something happens.

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

Soulmates are something to rejoice over. Which is understandable, it's the person who is perfect for you. How could anything go wrong? It's your other half, your partner in crime, your true paring. Everyone believed it was a simple affair, you meet and then happily ever after. It was the basics until we found out there was life outside of earth, then things got a bit more complicated. New cultures to take into account along with physiology.

Things aren't as straight forward after that.

When I was a kid I use to fantasize about my soulmate. Would they be tall, short, fat, skinny? What kind of music do they like, and will they also eat their sandwiches without the crust? I adored the idea of having a new best friend to hang with. As I got older the idea never really left, morphing more into adult-type thinking. It isn't till I could translate my mark did I begin to have doubts.

It was an off chance that I happened to see the language my soulmate spoke, a weird situation really. I was fumbling about online and I saw it, just a new article that had a picture of the written language. It as scraggly and difficult to read, like a doctor's handwriting. With further research, I found exactly what species my mate was likely to be.

Orc.

I was excited at the time, I figured it out. My mate was to be an Orc, large creature with mostly human parts. To better prepare I did some more digging, looking up anything I could that wasn't video game lore. It was all so new and surprising. I had a direction now, an image to apply to my fantasies.

Since then I have studied extensively on Orc culture. Learning the ins and outs of how they live, socialize, idolize, and talk. It was all so engaging and rich in lore. It felt like I was getting to know my mate already.

The more I researched I soon had an inching doubt. It started off small, basic insecurities. As I read about their courting did I really give it some thought.

Orcs value strength in their culture. A strong mate is heavily sought after. If a soulmate wasn't of great value then they are known to cast them aside. The idea puts lead in my stomach. I'm not strong, or large like their women. I'm tall but I fit more in the string bean category more than anything. I could never be what a typical orc would want.

As I spiraled in these thoughts one thing became clear. I will not be putting myself through that humiliation. I can't stand the thought of being viewed so lowly by someone who is supposed to be my perfect match. To be laughed at by them or be a dirty secret will kill me inside. I can't be an embarrassment, I refuse.

Thereafter I ignored my mark, keeping occupied in school and work. A little while later it became easy to avoid thoughts about him. It was like I never had a soulmate.

It wasn’t as freeing as I thought it would be.

After college I jump into my career, climbing the corporate ladder quickly. It's easy enough when you are married to your work. That even the thought of free time brings anxiety and stress. After a few years, I am exactly where I want to be. Traveling the world meeting new important people.

I have been everywhere and met every type of person. Orcs being one of those types of people. When I first saw one the excitement peaked its head, only for a moment. Then anxiety took over. What if it's him? The orc said his first words to me and the sigh of relief and disappointment was alarming. A few more introduction after that and the rising emotions settled. It was back to normal after that. Pretending that 'special' someone didn't exist.

Years passed and nothing happened. I didn't meet him or even get a trail. My soul felt numb, everything felt numb. It's hardly noticeable after so long, just a hole I've dealt with. I tried dating to fill the void but no one wants to date outside their partner. Anyone who does has lost their loved one already, wanting to also fill the void. Once they find out mine is still out there they break off quickly. So I focus on my career, it's all I have.

In my early 30s, I'm working in Germany. A lovely place but I always preferred the isles of Scotland, specifically Skye. At the embassy passing around some documents, I bump shoulders with an imposing figure. He is quite tall and buff, the poster child of orcs if I've ever seen one. He twists around, apologizing for the shoulder check.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there. Shouldn't have had my focus too far in the clouds while walking a crowded room," he smiles curtly.

I stare blank face at him, all primary functions failing. I can hear- feel- my heart beating against my chest. Everything is cold, my fingers numb but tingly. My vision tunnels and my brain just screams one thing. Run.

Rudely I turn and quickly walk away, giving no further reaction or words to my mat- to the stranger. I don't have a direction as I make it out the nearest door. I close it swiftly behind me, leaning against it. Sliding down to the floor I ball up. Pressing my knees to my chest and begin crying. Years of repression and closeting emotions are now boiling over. The sadness I ignored, convincing myself that they do not exist, is all on the surface.

I hiccup, stubbornly wiping away tears on the floor of a bathroom. All I can think is,

Fuck.

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

I have to say I've gotten good at not only avoiding emotions but people too. A week and a half of only catching glimpses of the orc. Which is a lot of glimpses, he is out and about often. It helps I'm stuck in my office for the time, only leaving for lunch. Still, he is always around when I'm out.

After I can pretend I've forgotten about him does he show up in my office. Knocking on my door a little after lunch. Too focused on work I don't hear him come in. I look up from my desk and choke.

"Hello again," he smiles," I have a folder for you, Reggie asked if I could bring it by."

"uh," I stare. My fingers grip the pen roughly, my fist almost shaking with the tension. The only thought running through my head now is, 'don't say anything'. If I talk then he will know. Then he will reject me. Then I can't go on pretending.

"You alright," he flicks the folder against his chest," didn't mean to startle you or anything. I know orcs can be kind of intimidating." I almost snort at the irony of that statement. Very intimidating indeed.

Instead of answering I hold out my hand for the folder, my other still white gripping the pen. He quickly crosses the room, handing me the folder before walking back to the door. With a curt wave, he is gone.

Once the door clicks into place I take in a greedy breath, slamming my head into my crossed arms. I groan, mumbling into my fist. My brain is muddled and my heart conflicted. I yearn to follow him but I also crave to leave back to the states. But one thought is resting quietly in the back of my head.

He looks good in those pants.

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

This idiot is now making it damn hard to avoid him. It's like he has made it his mission to get me to talk. Intercepting my way to my office in the mornings, meeting me at lunch, or delivering things to my office. He is determined, I'll give him that.

I'm almost running out of excuses. It's hard to make excuses without talking. I'm almost convinced he thinks I'm mute. Which would have been a grand way out if it wasn't for my coworkers plotting against me. As I talk with them they try to bring him into the conversation, promptly shutting me up.

I learn at some point his name is Garson. When I first heard I actually blushed, like a school girl! It was just his name and he didn't even say it. I will never understand the inner workings of soulmates but Garson always makes my controlled emotions run rapid.

As I sit in my office, absentmindedly writing my door opens. I don't look up, lost in thought for the hundredth time today.

"Hey," that deep -sexy- voice says. I sigh, shoulders slumping. I glance ahead, annoyed, and flustered. Garson waves shyly, holding up another folder. At this point, he has become my special delivery man. "From Vanya," he sets the file down," she asked I bring it on account of her bum leg. I told her it would be a bad idea to play soccer with her teens." his tense chuckle makes my heart throb. I want to ease his anxiety, but I can't. I just shrug, still writing.

He sighs, walking back out the door. The click echoed around the room and I find myself slamming my head on the desk again.

"Fuck," I groan, pounding my fist on the folder.

As I remind myself for the hundredth time why I'm doing this I notice my notes. I shift the paper and grimace at what I wrote.

Garson. Garson. Garson.

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

I can't fucking take it! He is more determined than I am stubborn. Watching him find more excuses to come to my office is almost impressive in its own right. He has upgraded from delivery boy to a food service. At some point he has found out my favorite snacks and drinks.

He interrupts me at the door, handing me a coffee while ranting about his night. As I ignore him, feeling like the biggest idjit, other coworkers join in. the number of dirty looks I get doesn't outweigh the appreciation I have for them talking to him. I feel like complete garbage when I don't respond to him, letting him look like a fool talking to someone who clearly doesn't want to talk. Thank the kindness of others.

Around lunch he pops in for a chat, offering a spot next to him in the cafeteria. I shake my head, pretending to be too busy to interact with him. Every time he offers and I decline he leaves so dejected. It's so heartbreaking to see him like that.

Day after day he tries his damndest to make friends with me. I cannot fathom this type of devotion to someone he doesn't know. I'm almost tempted to think he knows but its impossible. He is just too friendly for his own good.

Some coworkers have cornered me to ask what is up, some more confrontational than others. Some are casual in their attempts, asking simply why I'm so mean to the orc. Others are personally offended for him, being passive-aggressive to the point that I ask them to take his attention off me if they are so angry. Some do, which I'm grateful for. But he isn't swayed so easily.

I sit in my office, alone, contemplating my choices. I can't keep dealing with this. The heartbreak I feel rejecting him is as bad as him rejecting me. I'm doing what I was afraid of him doing, worse is he doesn't even know.

I have to leave.

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

It was weak, I'll admit that. Asking for a transfer was probably the easiest way out. I know I should just talk to him, let him have a choice in this, but I can't. he is a sweet guy, everyone knows that, but he is still an orc. He deserves someone strong and proud as his kind is. It's impossible for me to be that.

As I wallow on my last week of work I clean up my drawers to distract myself. I sort through some papers when the door bangs open. The knob slams against the wall, bouncing away towards that alluring figure. Garson walks in, grabbing the door and closing it behind him. His sneer is alarming, along with his clenched fist.

"You're leaving," he shouts," are you kidding me?" he walks closer to the desk, turning to pace the length of the room. " I tried, I thought maybe it's because I'm an orc and you were scared of me. I understand that, humans are super sensitive that way. But no! I was nice, patient, and doing everything I could to be nonthreatening. Yet that didn't help did it? It seems like nothing was going to fix that. So my question should really be why is my soulmate running from me?" I gasp, gawking at him. He stops his pacing, glaring down at me with crossed arms. He shrugs," well? Why are you running from me?"

I can't answer, shocked and startled by this admission. He doesn't allow me the time to stew on the question. He shoots forwards, slamming his hands on the desk. I jump.

"Why are you running from me," he chokes on a sob," It's been killing me to give you time. To watch you every day and not be able to hold you. If you want to leave, then fine. I won't stop you. I just want to know where I went wrong, what did I do? What could I have done? Was I always going to be not enough for you? Well?"

I bolt up at his words," I was scared! I was fucking scared, ok?" we both startle at my outburst. His self-deprecating look mixed with his attempt at a sneer melt off his face. I sigh, "I didn't want to be rejected, I couldn't handle that kind of pain." I drop my head in defeat.

Garson ducks down onto his knees, catching my eyes. "Why did you assume I would reject you," he asks.

"because you’re an orc and I'm not," I answer.

He scoffs," and you're a human and I'm not. Do you really see that as being a huge problem?"

"Yes," I slap the desk," of course it's going to be a problem. I'm not strong or proud, I'm weak and antisocial. I cry every time I watch sad dog movies. I can't lift more than half my body weight. I also don't have anything worthy for you. I'm an ordinary human while you are part of a devoted species. I am not worthy."

Garson just stares after my outburst. He looks between my eyes then gives me a once over. He huffs, standing straight. He combs his fingers through his long hair, turning away with a laugh.

"You have to be kidding me," he laughs again. His chuckles turn into full-blown laughter till he is lounging against the door.

"What's so funny," I snap. His laughs trail off as he watches me. When he doesn't answer, I sit, arms crossed and lip sneered.

"Sorry," he looks to his feet," it's just ironic."

"Yea, how so?"

I watch him straighten from the wall and casually flop into one of the chairs in front of my desk. Everything is quiet as he collects his thoughts. I faintly hear the sound of shuffling outside my door. No doubt some people heard the shouting.

"When I first found out what species my soulmate was I was excited. I had a direction now, I felt closer to you. I was so excited I told everyone I could. People of my clan held their tongues at my joy, only giving pitiful looks but no words. I never noticed it. It's when my parents sat me down to explain did I get it," he shifts in his chair," 'humans are scared of us' my mom said. 'they are weak' my dad said. I became torn between the fear of hurting you and the fear of you not wanting me because you'd think I'd hurt you.

"When I finally read what your words said I let their words alter me. instead of rejecting the idea of you I sent out to change. I got jobs that interacted with humans and kept myself small. I'm not a threat, I never was. I took every chance to chat with humans, to get used to them. It was all in preparation for you. I was- am- scared of you." he meets my eyes, his so full of fear. My heart patters, the view of vulnerability shaking me to the core.

"y-you were scared of me," I point to myself. The idea is laughable. "So we are a bunch of idiots too worried about each other's feelings to just ask straight out what we actually felt. That is funny," I chuckle. I huff, sitting back in my seat.

The awkward silence should be stifling but we are captured in our thoughts. It's amazing in its irony that he was also the one scared. I feel relieved and foolish all at once.

"so," he bounces his fingers on his thigh," what now?" I shift in my seat, also curious about our direction.

"depends," I nibble on my lip," do you want me despite everything?" the question lingers in the air for me. The answer I've dreaded my entire life. The choice that decides my happiness.

"Despite everything," he ponders," you ignore me for weeks, avoiding any interaction. Not talking to me less you wish to reveal yourself, and requesting a transfer. Despite all that, despite the ignorance and stubbornness, I want you." the satisfaction that flows through me is startling. My hand shakes from the previous fear and now incomparable joy.

"I never thought I would hear those words," I sigh," thank fuck."

He stands from his chair, walking over the side of my desk. "So you want me too? Despite everything," he crouches down. I grab at his face, finally allowing myself the chance to admire his handsome face. His long tusk and pierced lip. His dark green eyes and even darker green skin. He is so beautiful.

I answer him by leaning forward and capturing his lips. Pressing fiercely against him, showing him my cyclone of emotions. He returns it in full, shedding his insecurities to just hold me.

"I'm sorry," I mumble against him.

"it's ok, I'm sorry too," he kisses me again. He cards his fingers through my hair, petting down its length. I don't want to leave this moment, it filling the hole that sat too long in my heart. Though one question makes me part.

"How did you know," I ask. He traces his nose over mine with a hum.

"How did I know what," he asks.

"How did you know I was your soulmate, I didn’t say anything," I clarify. Garson answers by leaning down to my neck and taking a large inhale.

"Fresh baked cookies and honey milk," he kisses my cheek," only my soulmate can smell so good."

I laugh," you can smell your soulmate?"

"of course, all orcs can. Do humans not have this," he leans back. I shake my head, taking the time to lean in and smell him.

"pine tree and blueberries," I ponder," no, pine tree and strawberries."

"pine tree and fruit?"

"I guess so," I shrug, grinning like an idiot. He smiles with me, leaning back in for another heart stopping kiss.

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

After the week is over I transfer back to the states. The distance is aching, the void opening as he isn't there to fix it. I call him every night, regretting more than anything signing those papers. I belong right next to Garson in Germany. Though I can see now that I deserve to deal with the repercussions of my actions. Still, it sucks.

A month in I feel as empty as I did before he showed up. The daily calls help but seeing him would be better. My work suffers as a result, to the point that I consider taking vacation time to visit him.

Soon enough I do just that, putting in a week-long vacation request. I forgo telling Garson of my visit, wanting to surprise him. It's exciting to be able to this with someone. I always watch couples on tv surprising each other like this. It's nice to feel so normal.

The night before my flight I start packing. As I collect my clothes I hear a knock at the door. Tossing the items down I go over and answer. I throw open the door expecting some salesman but I'm greeted to a hulking figure.

"Garson!" I jump him with a hug. I pepper his face with kisses, too caught up in the growing affection.

"Hey, nice to see you too," he laughs, holding me close. He walks in, shutting the door behind himself as he goes into my living room. He sets us both on the couch, leaning down for a kiss.

"What are you doing here," I ask surprised.

"What, can't come visit my mate?"

"Oh shush, you know that's not what I meant. I'm asking because I was just getting ready to visit," I point towards my room," I'm in the middle of packing actually."

"really," he strokes my thigh," I guess great minds think alike."

"I guess they do," I smile. Having him here is like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I underestimated his importance until now.

We can't help but make up for lost time, making out like a bunch of teenagers on the couch till we make it to the bedroom. Pushing the luggage and clothes off the bed we make love for the first time. When he first pushes in it's like a puzzle finally coming together. I can't believe I was going to deny myself this, even with the chance of denial this is too great of a reward.

We lay in bed, me resting against his broad chest and him petting my head. We bask in the afterglow and silence, overjoyed with each other's company.

"I got some news," he mumbles, breaking the quiet. I hum, nuzzling into his chest. "I got transferred here," he answers.

I snap straight, looking down at him, "You're going to work with me?"

"yea," he smiles," it's exciting, I've never been to the states before."

"really? It's not much but now that you’re here perhaps it is," I cup his jaw, stealing a kiss while my excitement is hot.

"you flirt," he teases," I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," I mumble against his lips.

We fall asleep that night, curious but excited about our future.

I'm glad things worked out despite our ignorance. How could anyone deny their mate?

----------------------- 

I just.... I just love orcs so much. soulmate stories ain’t so bad either.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 9

Word Count: 4,396

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders (more to come)

Notes: Finally part 9! Thank you guys for being patient with me as I finally got back to writing. I’m not sure if anyone is still interested in this story now that Bubble is officially over. So please let me know if I should continue you on with this story or just let it drop off. At any rate, here’s the next part, so happy reading!

"Earth to (Y/N)! Are you in there?" Carly asked as she tapped on the front desk where you would like to say that you were lost in thought, but in reality; you'd just sort of spaced out. When you didn't reply right away; Carly said, "Are you done moping yet? It's been almost a week."

 "Please, stop exaggerating. It hasn't been a week." Sometimes Carly could be so dramatic, you thought to yourself.

 "Bitch, his team got ousted last Friday and today is Thursday. I might not have the fancy education you do, but that's six days which means tomorrow is a week." She pointed her finger directly at you. "You, Miss (Y/LN), have been sulking around this hotel for about five days too many by my count." It was hard not to roll your eyes but you suppressed it all the same. "Look I know…" she brought her voice to a whisper, "Sidney…must have been amazing in bed. Though why you haven't told me all the details yet; I'm baffled? Like seriously sis, spill the beans."

 This time you couldn't hold back as your eyes practically rolled back into your head at your soon to be former best friend if she kept this line of questioning up. "And what makes you think that I slept with Sid? How do you know I'm not pining over Tyler or someone else for that matter."

 "Well, I saw him leave. I'm not blind. The man literally couldn't take his eyes off you and the look on your face!" She pulled her lip down in a pout and mimicked a look of utter devastation. "You were a puppy that someone had not only kicked to the curb but then got run over."

 "I wasn't that bad."

 "Ok, well maybe not run over by like a car, but definitely by a bike." A chuckle escaped your lips and you supposed you were kind of upset that Sid and the Pens were headed back to Pittsburgh. "Oh my god, was that a smile? I haven't seen that in days." She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead.

 "What are you doing now?" You frowned at her.

 "Checking to make sure you don't have a fever."

 "Stop," you said starting to giggle. "Someone will think I have Covid or something." Carly joined you in laughter and you had to admit it actually felt kind of good. You hadn't realized that you were being such a Debbie Downer once Sidney had left, but once you started laughing your heart felt a little lighter.

 "See, I knew she was in there. Welcome back!" Carly came around the desk and hugged you. "Though I'm still going to make a suggestion to you." You cocked your head in inquiry. "Why don't you take the day off?" She could tell that you were going to say something but she held you off with a wave of her hand. "We came in the bubble two weeks before the players and they've been here for almost three. That's five weeks and you have yet to take one day to yourself. You've insisted the rest of us take off at least one day a week if not two. I think you should do the same." While Carly's plan sounded great, you really couldn't see yourself just taking the day to lounge at the pool or in your suite.

 "What if there's another fight? Or the kitchen catches on fire? Or…" She didn't let you come up with any more scenarios.

 "Someone will call you. See that thing right there." She picked up your cell phone. "It's amazing and lets us talk to you if we need something."

 "But what would I do? It's not like I can go get drunk at a club or something."

 Carly sighed heavily, "I have to do everything for you don't I?" She was definitely skating on thin ice in the friend department. "Why don't you go sit by the pool, or go for a run over in the stadium. It's a beautiful summer day, get out there and enjoy it. Besides you're starting to look pale, a little sun would do you some good." She grabbed your wrist and start to haul you out from behind the desk. "Then tonight, crack open a bottle of wine, take a hot bubble bath….maybe with one of these hot men that can't quit staring at you."

 "Oh stop, they are not staring at me."

 "Girl, would you look around." You did as she said, watching guys from different teams mill about the front lobby. There were some definite stares in both yours and Carly's direction. "See that one there," she pointed over to Jake Debrusk. "I swear he comes down to the lobby just drool over you, or what about that one. I think Brayden said his name was Joel Edmundson. He also mentioned something about him and crop tops, but then well he stopped talking when that sent my eyes wandering a little too far south for his pleasure. The man really can get jealous."

 "Can you blame him, Car? There are very few women in this bubble and quite a few men." The ratio was well to your advantage; that's for sure. "He's afraid he could lose you to one of these other guys."

 "Will never happen. But you're distracting me." She was now dragging you towards the elevators. "Now get your little butt up there and go do something fun for the day." She pushed the button and the elevator doors opened. "Oh! I expect to get notes or something if there are any hookups. Don't pull that shit you did with you know who."

 "What? I can't hear you." You told her as the door slid close. Faintly you heard something about bullshit and probably a few other choice words. Once you were in your suite, you decided to take Carly's suggestion and head over to the stadium for a little run. It had been quite some time that you'd actually gotten on the pavement instead of the treadmill and hopefully, it would clear your head of any lingering thoughts of Sidney. You quickly changed into some running shorts, a sports bra and one of those famous crop tops Carly was talking about Joel Edmundson wearing; then slipped on your sneakers and AirPods, and headed outside.

 Carly had been right. It was a gorgeous day to be outside. The sky was the most beautiful shade of blue, with white puffy clouds that reminded you of cotton dotting it throughout. You could still hear the light buzz of traffic from the city, as you made your way over to the stadium. Carly, forgot to mention that Islanders happened to be using the facility when you got there, but then you supposed that it was always busy except for the evening. You almost turned around, and went back to the hotel, not wanting to interrupt their time, but you saw a few other non-team members wandering about and figured that taking a little run shouldn't bother anyone.

 Cranking up the music, you started at a nice leisurely jog, just warming your legs up, as you made your way about halfway around before kicking it up at a faster pace. The sun felt good on your body as well as the fresh air getting in your lungs. You were off in your own world as you continued what was probably your fourth lap around the place when something came flying out in front of you. You stopped in your tracks.

 "Sorry about that," Mat Barzal said as he came over to retrieve what you now knew was a frisbee. "Didn't mean to interrupt your run." His shirt was off and sweat glistened on his well-defined abs.

 "It's no biggie," you told him as you went to put your earbud back in and continue on with your run.

 His hand went to reach for your wrist, but he caught himself before he grabbed you, though the action made you stop anyway. "Sorry again," this time you just smiled, which in turn made Mat smile and that was something to behold. "You're (Y/N) right?" you nodded and it really didn't feel strange now that almost every NHL player knew your name. "You wouldn't be interested in a game of spikeball; would you? We need another player."

 "Oh, um…" You were kind of stunned by him asking you, not that you didn't want to play. It was just, you were sure there had to be someone else that was probably better than you.

 "Please," there was this little puppy dog look in his eyes, and you were done for.

 "Sure," you told him, then followed him over to where Anthony Beauvillier and Derick Brassard were hanging out by the spikeball game. "I'm warning you, I not a professional athlete like you guys."

 "Don't worry, it's just a friendly little game." Mat told you, and yet somehow you figured even the friendliest of games with these guys would be competitive. Introductions were made, not that you didn't know who these guys were, but it was still a nice gesture. "So, I'll take (Y/N)." Mat declared.

 "What if I want her on my team?" Tito interjected and you really didn't feel that you were that great of a player to fight over, though to be honest, you had a feeling it wasn't about the ball game.

 "Well, so you kids don't fight. (Y/N) and I will be partners." Derick decided to chime in.

 "Guys, I'm not that good." You felt the need to be at least upfront with them.

 "I'm sure you're great," Derick said, while he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

 "The only fair way to settle this is rock, paper, scissors." This from Tito, as he made a fist preparing for the game, the other two joined him. Tito and Mat both picked scissors, effectively cutting out Derick who had chosen to go with paper. Now down to the two friends, it took two tries before they didn't pick the exact same gesture. In the end, it was Mat who won with a paper to cover up Anthony's rock.

 "Guess it's you and me." Mat said steering you over to his side of the net. "You know we're skins right?" there was a teasing note to his voice, along with a twinkle in his eye, to tell you he was joking. But to call his bluff, you simply stripped off your crop top and tossed it over to the side, leaving you clad in only your sports bra. All three guys' eyes about popped out of their heads as you reached for the hem of the bra.

 "Trust me, boys, you'll have to work a lot harder than that to get the rest off," you teased as you dropped your arms back down. "Well, are we going to play or what?" They chuckled at your joke, though you were pretty sure you saw Derick adjust his shorts and his cock.

 The game was fairly friendly at first, and it took you back to your high school days on the volleyball team, though it was a far cry from your setter's position that you played. You and Tito ran into each other at least three times and you were pretty sure the third one was on purpose just so he could steady you by grabbing not only your hips but your ass as well. There were a ton of volleys and points seemed hard to come by, but overall, you had a blast. Mat carried your team, but you held your own from time to time. Close to the end of the game, all four of you were sweating and the other two guys had joined Mat in going shirtless. You knew you were going to have to thank Carly for giving you the suggestion of coming over here, just for the sights alone.

 The game was all tied up, and you had no idea how it had gotten to that point. You were pretty sure someone had to have lost count at some point, but you weren't going to argue as you were having too much fun. "Ok match point. We got this (Y/N)." Mat told you, then gave you a high five before the ball was served. You hit it over to Mat with ease and he spiked it onto the net. The volley went back and forth a few times, each time getting more and more difficult to return. You thought for sure on Mat's last spike over that there was no way they were going to get the ball. However, Derick's quick reflexes had him tossing it back over to Tito, who set Derick back up for a soft spike. The ball fluttered to the ground and both you and Mat dove trying to reach it. It all played out in slow motion in your head, you could almost foresee the two of you clunking heads which would probably result in both of you getting a concussion, but at the last second, Mat rolled to his side instead, grabbing you as he did so he absorbed most of the impact. As you both landed on the ground, he moved so that his back was now on the grass with your body on top of him.

 You were a bit stunned at first but recovered quickly. "Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you?" The words tumbled out of your mouth as you went to get up, only to have Mat's arms pin you closer to his body. That's when you felt his cock stiffen. Maybe it was the action of sliding down his body slightly so that you could see his face that caused it, or maybe it was just your body pressed against his; you weren't entirely sure. All you knew was that it was definitely hard and seemed to have a bit of length to it, which made you want to get Mat in this same position only without prying eyes.

 "I'm ok." Mat said, drawing you back to your present circumstance.

 "Looks like we won." Tito gloated from above you, reminding you that you couldn't stay like this for much longer.

 "I'm not so sure about that." Mat whispered before rolling you onto your back, his weight all on his forearms before he lifted himself up off the ground then helped you up as well. "Good game," he said to his teammates, making you wonder if you'd actually heard what he said correctly.

 You shook hands with both Tito and Derick, before you all headed over to grab some water, making idol chit chat for a bit. It wasn't long before they were being told that they had to leave the arena as their time was up and another team was coming in within the hour. "It was a lot of fun guys, thanks for inviting me to play," you told them.

 "Our pleasure," Derick said, and you could've sworn you heard Tito say that he would play with you anytime. The double entendre was not lost on you.

 "I'm sure I'll see you around the hotel." You told them all then headed out of the arena as well, though in a different direction as your hotel was the other way. You'd just made it into the alcove when you heard Mat calling your name.

 "You forgot this," he said handing you, your crop top. "Can't have you going back to the hotel like that."

 "Thanks."

 Mat shifted his weight from foot to foot a few times, before saying. "Can I walk you back?"

 "Sure," you told him. "I mean as long as you don't have to go back with the team."

 "Nah, we have the next hour free still." Well, that was interesting information that you took in as you continued around the empty halls of the stadium. Mentally, you calculated how much time it would take to get to your suite and then for Mat to get back to his place. It was definitely more than an hour, so if you were going to have a little fun it was going to have to be here. Your eyes darted around, looking for the perfect spot. "What are you doing?"

 It was right at that moment that you found the ideal location. "This," you answered, grabbing Mat's hand and pulling him into the spot that would conceal you both in case anyone would walk by. As soon as you were ensconced inside, your lips found his. You pulled his neck down to meet your mouth, kissing him with abandonment. Mat caught on quick to your plan and quickly took control, pinning you against the wall as his mouth plundered inside yours. His tongue danced with yours, as his hands skimmed up your body, sending shivers down your spine.

 A lock of Mat's hair dipped down to his forehead and your hands moved up to push it back, though you didn't stop there as you let them sift through his thick mane. He moaned into your mouth, as your hands raked through his hair, nails slightly scraping his scalp. He devoured your whole with his mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you and the whole time you just wanted more of him. Mat's thigh came up between your legs, and you wantonly pressed your cunt down upon him. "Fuck baby," he whispered. "That's it, grind down on me." It wasn't like you needed to hear the words, but they still made you damp coming from his mouth. He released your mouth finally, but only so he could trail his lips down your neck to your breasts. His hands pushed your bra up, and you felt your arms reaching up to the sky so that he could remove it completely. "I've been wondering what these looked like the whole fucking game." His head fell back slightly so he could take your breasts in and you felt your nipples harden under his stare. "Fucking perfect," he panted out before capturing a pert nipple in his mouth.

 "Fuck Mat," you gasped as he lightly bit down. Hips now desperate, you continued to grind down on Mat's thick thigh as he lavished each of your breasts with attention. You whimpered, trying to find that perfect position against him that would put you over the edge, but then Mat moved his thigh away.

 "I can't," he said and your brain was too fogged from chasing your high to register what he meant before his fingers were sliding under the waistband of your shorts and panties. "Damn baby, I can't believe how wet you are." His fingers slid inside your pussy with ease and you moaned out with pleasure as he scissored two of them in, while his thumb pressed against your clit. "You like that," his whispered then sucked on your nipple again. "God, I want you to cum on my fingers so bad." They started to pump in and out of you then. "Can you do that pretty girl? Can you cum for me?"

 Fuck you loved it when he talked dirty like that. The combination of his words and his actions sending you spiraling into orgasm. "Mat," you called out as your body trembled.

 "Yeah baby, say my name. Tell everyone who's making you cum." He kept fingering you through the orgasm, pressing kisses all over your chest and neck. "So, fucking pretty." You slumped back against the wall, head going back as your body was finally sated. Mat pressed his fingers deep inside you one last time before withdrawing them and bringing them to his lips. His tongue darted out, licking up the length of them before he brought them to your lips. "Suck," it wasn't quite a command, but at the same time you didn't feel the need to disobey either and you wondered if the two of you had more time, what all Mat could come up with. You licked your essence off his digits, letting your tongue glide up his long fingers. It was Mat's turn to groan this time and you felt him go a little weak, so you took advantage and twisted you both so that he was now against the wall.

 You kissed him hard, before sliding down onto your knees taking his shorts and boxer briefs with you. Mat inhaled sharply as your hands skated back up his meaty thighs you were riding moments ago. Eyes locking with his, your tongue slipped out and licked the head of his cock, tasting the precum that was oozing from it. Your lips wrapped around the head then and you heard as well as felt his sigh of content before his fingers threaded through your hair. "Fuck (Y/N), that feels so good." His hand gently urged you to take more, and so you did. "That's it, baby, just like that." Your lips sunk down on as much of his cock as you could take in, while your hand fisted him at the base. Sucking him back out, you let your teeth lightly rake along his cock and he hissed out another fuck but thrust hips forward wanting you to take him back in. You did, but slowly centimeter by centimeter. Mat's head fell back against the wall. "You're killing me." Your lips smiled around his cock as you started to take him and out of your mouth.

 Mat was breathing was labored, as he fisted his hand around your hair, holding it back so he could see your face as you took him inside your mouth. Your tongue pressed up against the underside, and you felt him twitch in response. Letting your fingers dance along his thighs, you slithered them up to his balls where you cupped them and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Fuck, yeah," Mat panted, his hips now rocking into your mouth. Relaxing your throat, you hummed so that you could take him deeper. "Jesus," he hissed out, his hand now tightening on the back of your skull as he thrust again, this time shooting his cum down the back of your throat. You swallowed what you could, though some dribbled out and down your chin; that only turned Mat on more. "You're so fucking gorgeous right now." He told you, as he helped you back to your feet, where his lips locked with yours. You were half-naked from the waist up and Mat from the waist down, but you didn't care as you made out with him against the wall of the stadium. Time sort of stood still as the two of you entwined not only your mouths but your bodies. His hands going from your ass, then to your back, to your neck and then breasts, all at the same time. Off in the distance, you heard a noise, and you realized the other team must be coming in.

 You broke the kiss, though Mat chased after your lips still wanting that contact with you. "I think someone's coming." He heard it then, the idle chatter of voices still far enough away, but you weren't sure for how long.

 "Fuck, I thought we had more time." He reluctantly let you out of his embrace, but only so that you could both pull your clothes back on. Mat grabbed your crop top and slipped it back over your head, before pulling you back in for a kiss. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?" All you could do was blush. "I'm not just talking about back there either." You cocked your head at him, as the two of you headed back to Hotel X, fingers entwined. "I might be staying at Royal York, but everyone talks about how great it over at your place and how it's all because of you. You're like some legend or something."

 God, you were hoping that they weren't talking about all the sexual things that had gone on with other players. "Well, I'm glad everyone's happy. I'm really just doing my job."

 "Hopefully, I'll be over there soon," Mat added with a little wink to you, and you realized you wouldn't mind having him in your hotel at all. In fact, it would be a lot of fun. "I guess I have to let you go, huh?" You were now standing in front of the hotel and short of asking Mat up to your room, which you knew there wasn't time for; your interlude with him was coming to an end.

 "Well, you know you're more than welcome to use any of the facilities we have here anytime." It was your turn to give Mat a little wink.

 "I just might have to do that. We have a game tomorrow, but I'm sure I'll be needing to use the tennis courts or that pool sometime soon."

 "Well, make sure you stop and tell me hi when you're here."

 He chuckled at your comment. "Oh, there is no way I would forget to do that." He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, before dropping a kiss to your lips. Part of you was hesitant that someone might be watching but then it didn't matter because when Mat kissed you, it seemed like no one else even existed. "I gotta go." He finally said breaking away. "But I'll see you soon."

 "I'll hold you to that promise." He pecked your lips one more time before heading in the direction of his hotel.

 Thankfully, things were running smoothly at the hotel, so you decided to continue taking Carly's advice and head upstairs for a long hot bubble bath. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you let the water get to the perfect temperature before sinking down into it. You sighed as you took a sip of the crisp tasting vintage as soft music played in the background. The only thing you were missing was a few pieces of chocolate to make this entire thing perfect. Well, and maybe Mat, for that man truly was something. You let your mind drift to thoughts of him and his rock-hard abs. What you wouldn't give to have him here right now, sliding into the water and into your pussy. Those thoughts were cut short as your phone rang. Damn, you thought, just when things were getting good.  

[redhawtriot]

Caught in the Act (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

So… this is technically like half of the request but I had way too many ideas for this (and its already long as hell. oops). I’m only doing one Bakugou cheating scenario on this page so go big or go home, right?

I also saw that this blog  that I made like two weeks ago has like 100 of you guys following it wtf?! So to celebrate, I’m making my first actual series an interactive one! The following chapters will be very short (besides this one, she thicc), but each will have a question at the end that will determine the events of the next chapter! I made an account on OpinionStage where you guys can vote on through Tumblr, so hopefully at least one of you is excited.

Part two (the other half of this request) is where this fun will begin, so stay whelmed.

Fuck this site for making me repost this :)

Love you guys

HnM💕

Warning: Don’t read this to your fucking kids

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Essentially, your girls night for the week had been, in lack of better words, a shit show.

The brisk, fall air pierced your skin, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You didn’t even want to touch your sticky filth.

You just wanted to run home to your Bakugou– he was all the warmth that you needed and more. More than anything, you wanted to forget about the foul man that had assaulted you at your now ex-favorite club.

A frown momentarily sneaked its way onto your face to corrupt the brave expression you had held in front of your girlfriends,

“Hey” you had raised your hands to halt your friend, “Don’t do something ridiculous! I promise I’m alright, Jirou!” You had begged her when she had prepared to fight the man as he grabbed your arms. You had already politely asked him to back away from you after he tried to grind himself against you. He called it dancing—you called it sexual harassment.

The nightclub security had already been watching this man and immediately closed in on him to escort him out of the club as soon as he moved in towards you. But it must not have been fast enough.

Everything happened so rapidly that you could barely blink in time before you were drenched in a sticky liquid. Still, you kept a calm expression on your face. Your friends’ careers as heroes depended on how calmly you acted,

“No, it’s okay! I needed to head home anyway!” you had argued with your girls after the man had thrown his drink at you. You tried to bring a smile onto your face as the slight sting of the alcohol penetrated your eyes, “Bakugou will pick me up,” you blinked heavily.

Of course he wouldn’t pick you up in front of the club.

No, that would just be a disaster waiting to happen.

He would more than likely blow the entire place up once he found out what had transpired.

However, after the fourth failed attempt at calling Bakugou, you had given up. It was honestly a stretch anyway. He barely made it past nine o’ clock most nights, and it was well on its way to midnight. You could see your breath as you gave off a heavy sigh, but you never faltered in your steps.

You just wanted to go home to your man, clean your pathetic ass in a hot shower, and forget other men existed in this world.

You groaned to yourself as you remembered how late your guys’ roommate, Kirishima, would stay up in the front living room playing video games—the same front living room you would have to sneak past to make your way to the sanctuary of your shower.  

You opened the front door as quietly as you could and prodded your, matted, liquor-contaminated head into the threshold of your home. You probably looked like a wild animal as you scrunched your eyebrows and stared at the dark living room for a while before finally building up the courage to tiptoe towards your bathroom.

You didn’t even want to go to your room in fear of interrogation from a very sleepy, very pissed off Bakugou.

Better not poke the bear. Better just wash the stink and sins away and keep it moving like nothing had happened.

Kirishima not being awake on his Xbox for once was a blessing on a normal day, but today it was truly god sent. Hell, even Bakugou not being able to pick you up might have been a blessing in disguise—or so you thought.

As soon as you turned your shower off you heard it– a steady, creaking noise.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself as your face crinkled upwards in disgust. Kirishima hardly ever brought girls home, and when he did, he was as quiet as a mouse with them. In fact, you hardly even knew the women were there until the next morning when they awkwardly wobbled out of the apartment with their heads tucked down.

The pace of the creaking sped up and the smack of the headboard joined in a repetitive thudding, causing you to freeze in place.  Breathless feminine moans joined the little musical number in increasing volume for short while before they became more ‘shrieky’ in nature.

A grimace fell upon your expression, “What the fuck?” you once again mouthed. You quickly snatched your towel and wrapped it around you with haste as you tried to run from the unholy concerto that was being orchestrated in your room.

Wait.

Your room?

Your room was the room that was connected to the bathroom walls—not Kiri’s.

It was in that moment of realization that you heard the moans return, this time a gruff male voice joined the duet,

“Shit!” The moan was drawn out until it faded into a heavy, guttural groan.

You paused again as your heart dropped deeply into your chest. You stretched your hearing and waited for his voice to appear again over her constant whines, “Just like that, baby,” his voice reemerged as he groaned deeply. Your heart harshly reminded you of its existence as it lurched suddenly.

That sounded like Bakugou.

But it had to be a mistake. You rehearsed this thought repeatedly as you sped to your room as quietly as you could—your mind racing even faster than your legs. Your Bakugou was sound asleep in his bed like he was this time of night every night. He was sound asleep and stretched out on his side of the bed with the lights off and with a sock thrown over the flashing light of his work desk computer—he hated that light at night.

You faltered as your hand stuttered uncontrollably toward your door handle. Bakugou’s never even looked at another woman before. It took him years to throw even you, his current fiancé, a second glance. He would never in a million years be on the other side of this door with another woman making those ungodly sounds.

Sounds you hadn’t heard in months.

It had to be Kirishima you tried to convince yourself as you gently twisted the door handle, ‘Please god, he just went into the wrong room,’ you prayed as you threw the door open.

Every single muscle in your body froze as you ingested the sight in front of you—your heart included.

You caught the tail end of their act, and you could only watch in complete disgust as the muscles of your beloved’s back violently contracted in sweat glistened pulses.

The woman made horrified eye contact with you as she was being pinned against your grandmother’s dresser, yet she couldn’t fight the last moan that ripped itself from her, her legs spasming as Bakugou’s flesh smacked into hers for a final time.

He desperately pressed himself into her like he was trying to become her, “Fuck,” he groaned into her neck. You noticed his nails dig deeply into her raised wrists as his hips rashly stuttered to a stop, “Don’t clench around me like that, babe. Relax.” His shaky breath demanded.

The woman looked far from relaxed, “H-Hey!” she anxiously tapped his shoulder, trying to warn him of their impending doom. Her wide eyes were still fixated on your ever-growing livid ones.

“BAKUGOU!” You screeched. The relaxed emotion that you had so desperately tried to keep plastered onto your face that night completely shattered as you angrily marched up to him and snatched the back of his hair, “You bastard!!”

As you yanked downward, he surprisingly fell to the ground, disconnecting with the other slut on trial as they both flew to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled as his body heavily thudded into the ground.

“That’s my line, you fucking jackass!” you felt your voice crack. Everything hurt. There was pressure in the back of your eyes, the front of your chest, your legs, your throat, your toes, your everything. Everything in your body felt weak under your boiling blood as if you were about to explode.

“Y-Y/N…?” you saw his trademark pissed off expression drop to an unfamiliar one as his eyes finally adjust to you in the darkness of the room. It must have resided in an area between fear and sadness.

You fought the unruly emotions that threatened to take control over your body as you clenched your fist.

Fuck him. He doesn’t get to be sad.

“What?? Were you expecting someone else!?” you spat as you roughly kicked one of his nearby feet, “You probably were expecting more company, you whore,”

No response.

You dug your nails deep into the palm of your hands as if it would somehow release the excruciating pressure that you were feeling.

The woman’s meek voice suddenly broke the extreme silence you all shared, “I-I’m gonna g—”

“GO!” you angrily whipped yourself around to her before grabbing the nearest item that you could, “You dumb bitch! You’re lucky I don’t fuck you up too!” You threw the item as you cursed, not even bothering to know what it was.

It barely missed the naked girl and loudly shattered against one of your walls as she scurried towards the door. You went to reach for another object from your grandmothers’ dresser, promising that you wouldn’t miss this time, but you froze as you found yourself in the mirror connected to the dresser.

You hadn’t realized in your rage that you were crying until you saw your tear-soaked face in the dark reflection. You tried so hard to keep yourself together. You prided yourself on being level-headed in stressful situations, but you were far from level-headed. You were conceited to ever even try to take on that persona.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could only lament about how pathetic you looked—how pathetic you were.

“I…I’m such an idiot!” you painfully gripped at your hair as you fell into your knees in front of the man you loved. Heavy sobs tore themselves free of your burning throat. You heaved yourself forward into your lap in a failed attempted to catch them, but it was too late.

“I don’t… know what to say.” Bakugou finally spoke up, his face completely flipped upside down from its usual tenseness.

Of course.

Out of all of the times you wanted this loud-mouthed jerk to shut up, now is when he is at a loss for words.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips.

“I don’t see what’s so fucking funny?” he angrily retorted, as he stumbled to make his way up. You were suddenly met with his member being swung at your eye level as you stayed crouched onto the ground. That’s when you noticed–

He didn’t even have a condom on.

He made you get tested for STDs and pregnancy before he even had sex with you with a condom.

“I don’t know where that thing has been,” He had said then. It wouldn’t be until months later when you had started birth control when he had finally decided to risk sex without latex protection. The memory jolted an unexpected emotion from you as your chest bobbed from an oncoming laugh.

“G-get out.” You laughed again, tears still steadily falling from your face. You probably looked absolutely psychotic right now, but it was like all of the emotions that you had been stifling all these years had resurfaced with a vengeance. You struggled to drag yourself to stand so that you wouldn’t have to look at his still wet dick.

You continued to laugh and cry as Bakugou stared at you, his expression becoming disgruntled from the disturbing sight,

“What the fuck is wrong wi—”

“Get. OUT!!” you angrily interrupted him as you roared into his face. He blinked spastically in response as the shock of the altercation finally began to sink into his decelerated mind.

‘F-fuck,’

His heart sank, ‘What did I just do?’ He racked his brain as he tried to remember all of the events that had taken place to lead him to this moment, but the world seemed to be spinning ferociously, shaking up and mixing the timeline of the night.

He was plucked from his thoughts as he caught a glimpse of your face in the darkness of the room.

Why were you looking at him like you hated his existence—like if you could disintegrate his body with your eyes, you would. For the first time in years, Bakugou felt hot tears tingle against the back of his eyes, “Y/N, I…” his voice became stuck in his chest as his heart gave sudden jolt, “I’m so s–”

His chest became tight as you whipped away from him and silently threw a pointed finger towards the door.

He stumbled back a few feet as if you had just thrown a physical attack his way.

After a few moments of watching you hold the same position, he noticed you had started to cry again as your rocking shoulders lurched forward.

His face fell even further into the expression of despair before he froze. He could fix this if you would just let him, dammit!

He growled in annoyance at your ignoring him before he finally thawed his body, “FINE!” he yelled at you before smacking your pointed hand out to the way so that he could stagger out of the room. He loudly slammed the door shut, leaving you alone with your deafening thoughts.

You immediately dropped back to the ground before you curled yourself up into a ball and released painful sobs.

You had absolutely no fear that he would catch you in this state. His pride would never allow him to come back after storming out like that.

However on the other side of the door, Bakugou had already turned back around. Instant guilt had created a cacophony of loud feelings in his mind. How could he have hurt you like that?

The thought caused his heart to thrum and his hands to flinch away from the door handle; however, he strengthened his resolve and firmly grasped the handle once more until suddenly–

“BAKU-BROOOOO!” Kirishima’s booming voice could be heard moments before the front door was slammed open and bounced against your living room wall, “Ya made it back alive, man! We were all worried about you after you disappeared…” he slurred as he fumbled over to his best friend like a toddler taking his first steps.

Bakugou couldn’t find it in himself to reply to the redhead as the latter threw himself at him with a hearty laugh. The laugh, however, came to an abrupt end as Kirishima stared blankly at Bakugous face, “Hey… wha’s wrong, best buddy? Holy hell, w-why are you crying?!” he loudly whispered. A loud rumble could be heard before Kirishima violently gagged, releasing the contents of his stomach.

[dragoqueen]

Whoops! Wrong Way 2/8

Summary: Peter has been living at Avengers Tower for 2 years, known to the workers and Avengers as Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers.  When his teacher announces that they're going on a field trip to Avengers Tower, or SI,  he's going to have to attempt to survive a day of embarrassment and keeping a secret identity. 

Words: 2125

“Hey, Pete. You need to get up, you’re going to be late.”

“Go away…” Peter mumbles, trying to push Tony away from him.

“Pete get up!”

“Nooooo” 

“Steve’s making pancakes.”

Peter sits up immediately, “I’m up, I’m up. With chocolate chips?”

“Yup, the chunks.”

“Go away old man, I need to get me some food.” 

Peter pushes Tony away from him and runs out of the room, into the kitchen where the sweet aroma of pancakes and chocolate fills the air. Steve smiles at Peter while handing him a plate filled with pancakes and drowned in syrup. As Peter takes it, Steve reaches up to mess with Peter’s hair. Peter groans and steps out of reach, sitting down to enjoy the food. 

While eating more of the Avengers trickle in and join Peter. First Tony, who enters in and gives Steve a kiss before receiving his plate and sitting next to Peter, then Bruce, followed by Bucky, Wanda, Pietro, Clint, and Natasha. Each greet Peter tiredly before sitting down with their food as well. “Good morning, паук (spider).”

“Morning Тетя нэт.”

“You want me to take you to school?”

“Yeah, let me go get changed and then I’ll be ready.” “Okay, take your time, we still have quite a bit before you’d be considered late.”

Peter quickly gobbles down the rest of his pancakes and runs into his room to get dressed. Then, he grabs his backpack and joins Nat in the elevator to go down into the lobby. The two then get on the motorcycle and ride to his school. The 10 minute ride is spent listening to music in their helmets, something that Peter designed when he first started working with Stark. Then, when Peter gets to school, Nat takes the helmet from him, gives him a kiss on his forehead, and leaves after saying goodbye. 

Thus begins his day of terror. 

First, he got insulted and beat up by Flash and his goons. Luckily, they only got a few punches in before MJ intervened, which left him with only a few bruises that would most likely disappear by the end of the day. After that he fell asleep in calculus and got woke up by the teacher who asked him for the answer to a hard equation. Somehow, he managed to solve it correctly, despite being incredibly drowsy from sleeping, and save himself the embarrassment. 

His terrible, no good, very bad day continued at lunch when he realized that he had forgotten his lunch at home. Ned and MJ both offered some of their food, but he declined, no wanting to take their food. Because of his enhanced metabolism and usually needing to eat 3-5x more food than everyone else, he was left tired and weak for the remainder of the day. This also caused his bruises, which until then had almost been done healing, to be invisible but just as painful as before. 

In chemistry, his last class, he could hardly wait for the day to be over so that he could go home, sleep, and eat some of Steve and Bucky’s delicious food. Sadly, just as class was about to end, his teacher told them, “if you guys could stay a few minutes after the bell I have a very important announcement to make.” Peter groans and silently hits his head against the desk in pain. “Dude, are you okay? Was it, you know,” Ned makes a web shooting sign with his hands. 

“Way to not be obvious. And kind of. I was up late SM-ing and now I’m super tired and bruised from Flash and his goons.” 

“That sucks, but maybe his announcement is exiting.”

“Sure, because when a teacher tells you to stay after class it’s good.”

They’re interrupted by the bell and then their teacher rushing the announcement he wanted to make, “okay guys, you can go in a second. First, however, on your way out grab a field trip permission slip. This Friday we’re going on a field trip to the one and only… Stark Industries!”

The entire class erupted in cheers except for Peter, who slammed his head down on his desk again. Flash seemed to notice and decided to comment on it, “hey, Parker, you scared now that your interning lie is going to be exposed?”

“Shut up, Flash. Just because Peter’s smart enough to get an internship doesn’t mean you need to remind everyone of it every second,” MJ retorts. 

Flash stutters before being unable to find a good enough response and turning back to pay attention to the teacher. Thanks, Peter mouths to MJ. she offers a smile in response. Mr. Harrington continues giving the details about the field trip for the next 2 minutes. Then, he finally releases the class. However, just as Peter is about to leave he says, “Peter, can you stay behind please?”  

Peter glances nervously at Ned and MJ who shrug nervously and leave the room, although he can see them waiting outside in the hallway talking to each other about what sounds like a riveting conversation on Star Wars. “Peter, I know that you’ve been telling everyone about your “internship” at Stark Industries, and it’s fine to joke about it at school. But Stark Industries is a very prestigious place and you need to respect that. I’m going to have to ask you to not mention your fake internship at Stark Industries, just to save yourself and the school the embarrassment.”

“But, sit. With all due respect, I’m not lying about my internship.”

“And there you go again about it. If you mention it again and I hear, I’m going to have to prevent you from going on the field trip. I’ve already talked to the principal about it and she’s on board with it.”

“Okay sir.” Peter sighs in defeat. 

He grabs his stuff and exits the room. MJ and Ned stop their conversation as soon as they see him. “So, what did he want to know about?”

“He told me to not talk about my internship and that if he hears me talking about it again then he’ll stop me from going on the field trip. He thinks that my internship is fake.”

“What? But it’s not. You literally gave him papers signed by Tony, Pepper, and Steve.” Ned says. 

“I know, let’s just… not mention it anymore. Okay? I don’t want to deal with it. I guess, they’ll see when we go that I’m not lying.” 

“Okay, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye guys.” 

The friends split separate ways, and Peter goes to locate Happy. He spots the black car sitting out and smiles when the door opens and he hears Happy’s voice, “come on kid!” He walks to the car and gets in, throwing his backpack into the seat next to him.”

“How was school, kid?”

“It was fine, Happy.” 

“What? Did something happen? Usually when you get into the car after school you talk my ear off unless I have food for you, and even then you find a way to continue talking.”

“Yeah, just a rough day and I’m tired. Thanks for your concern though.”

They remain silent the rest of the trip, although Peter does notice Happy glancing back at him every once in a while with a worried look. When they arrive the two say their goodbyes and Peter enters Stark Industries. Instead of going through the scanner, like everyone else usually has to do, he just waves to the security guard and walks straight to the elevator. “Welcome back home, BabyStark. Would you like me to alert the other’s of your arrival?” FRIDAY asks. 

Peter groans at the nickname, “thanks FRIDAY. No, I'll find them myself. Who told you to call me that?”

“BirdBrain #1 has set the command.”

“I thought Mr. Stark told you not to listen to Clint.” 

“Boss actually approved of it. You have arrived at the penthouse.” “Thanks FRIDAY. And please don’t call me.” “Changing BabyStark’s name to Mini-Stark.”

Peter sighs, knowing that “Mini-Stark” was probably the best he was going to get. He thanks FRIDAY as he leaves the elevator. The people in the penthouse say their hellos to Peter, Bucky and Steve from the kitchen, Clint and Sam from the couch where they’re playing mario kart, and Wanda and Pietro from the corner where they’re listening to music and Wanda is reading a book. He smiles and nods before asking, “where’s Nat?” 

“Right here маленький паук (little spider) . You want to go train?” Nat answers, walking out from a side hallway. 

“Gosh yes. I need to get rid of some stress.”

“And the best way to do that is by getting beat up by a master assassin?” Sam asks. 

“Shut up, Bird Brain, before I use you as a punching bag.”

Sam stops talking immediately and goes back to focusing on the screen where Clint has just taken first place. Peter smiles at Nat and throws his backpack to the side before going back into the elevator to go down to the training level. 

-time skip to them about to fight-

“You remember everything I told you last time?”

“Take every opportunity I can, go all out, no surrender till they surrender unless you have to surrender.”

She laughs, “basically. Alright let’s go.”

They circle each other at first, each waiting to see if the other will make the first move. Natasha, tired of waiting, quickly moves forward and throws the first punch. Of course, Peter’s spider sense tells him what to do and he moves to the side, avoiding the punch. 

Unfortunately for Peter, that’s what she was anticipating. She takes the chance to kick him in the ribs, hard. He kicks her in the stomach, knocking her to the floor and giving him a second to recover while planning his next move. She kicks her leg out and sweeps him off his feet, causing him to fall down too. She leans back on her hands and pushes up, he does the same. 

They meet up, going back and forth exchanging punch after punch. Finally, she goes in for the kill, kicking him back and flipping over to knock him down. Finally, she gets him on the ground and they fight there for a second. One has the other down for a few seconds before they manage to flip or fight their way out and pin the other. Finally, Natasha manages to pin Peter to the mat and where he can’t move at all. He taps the ground twice and she lets him go, standing up before helping him up. “That was good, you lasted longer than last time.”

“Yeah, but I still can’t beat you.”

“You also haven’t been trained in this stuff since you were young like me. You’ll get here some day.” “Yeah, when you’re 80 and retired. And even then I probably won’t. I’ll get beat up by an 80 year old woman.”

She chuckles and ruffles his hair. Suddenly, FRIDAY’s voice comes on from the ceiling, “Metal arm would like you to know that dinner is ready.”

“Alright, thanks FRIDAY. We’ll be up in a sec.” They quickly get their stuff together and head into the elevator to go up to dinner. 

-time skip to the middle of dinner brought to you by laziness ✌-

“So, Pete. is there anything that happened in school today that you want to tell us about…?” Wanda randomly asks in the middle of dinner, disrupting all current dinner talk so everyone could stare at Peter.

“I- uh… no?”

“You sure?” She holds up a piece of paper that Peter recognizes to be the permission slip. 

Shoot. “Uh… that’s, I don’t know what that is. I think that’s old from the last time.”

“What is, Peter. Wanda, what is it?” Steve asks, confused. 

“It seems like our little spider here is going on a field trip.”

“Oh that’s cool. Where to?”

“Nowhere important. They’re always boring so it won’t be fun…”

“What, you think the place you live is boring?”

“Wait… oh my freaking goodness. Ah, this is golden.” Bucky rambles, finally understanding what’s happening. 

“Wait, Peter. Are you coming here for the field trip?” Tony asks.

“You own the place, how could you not know?” Peter says. 

“I mean, I accepted a school to come here, I didn’t realize it was yours. I wasn’t really paying attention to it. But this is going to be awesome… we’re going to embarrass you so much.” “What! No. You can’t do that. Pepper… please. Stop them.”

“I’d try Peter but you know they don’t listen to me anymore. I’m sorry you’ll just have to try and survive.”

“Ughh… why me?” he groans. 

“You’ll be fine Peter. We’re just going to have a little fun.” 

[muwur]

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises.  Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

[thekillingmoonmoon]

hellloooo! don't worry about how long it takes to respond, look, here i am like a week later XD. i hope everything before your holiday went well!

okay so doooon't judge me but i love the matchy-adjacent coordination! i think rindou chooses his outfit first, then ran sees it, thinks over his own wardrobe, then chooses his complimentary pieces to elevate their Look. i would loooove to be able to write something like a half-serious version of Phantom Thread where the brothers are muses for us, the seamstress in despair. or... wait. mitsuya. in a completely not-serious enemies-to-a truce au where he's like "you guys piss me off and i won't forgive you for clobbering me with a brick but goddamn do you wear my designs well" kind of fic.

the whole bit about koko's "reader used to call me that" had me giggling for so long because i kept imagining akashi as the "too many cigarettes" meme with lit cigs everywhere on him. everyone tiptoeing around the heavy haitani silence. sanzu bursting into their shared office (because of course they would share one), pointing at one, announcing "he's right, i side with him on this," and then standing back to watch the chaos ensue.

"you told him?"

"no?"

"why must you turn my office into a house of LIES."

...because sanzu is a shit disturber who is bored on a thursday.

okay so i just read the new chap and i feel like i must give my apologies to akashi for thinking the worst of him. mmmmaybe. i really should wait before making all these snap judgements. (proceeds to make more snap judgements)

the thing with mikey... this is still future!mikey watching the chaos, right? i feel like i have to start from the beginning and do a re-read because i miss story elements, focus instead on the linework and stuff, and i have a terrible memory when reading week to week ^_^;;

lately, do you get too focused on stepping into the magic writing trance to get into the magic writing trance? like seeing squiggly floaters in your eyes but if you try to look at them they move. maybe it will be better after the holiday, you'll come back all refreshed and see the haze.

i think shin x r x omi would be like snuggling into clothes worn to a bonfire in the woods. i know that's not what ciggy smoke smells like but i want to see this in a positive light haha.

yeah, for work, i like to think i do well with balance in a piece. my boss thinks it's funny the way i'll nudge something like one single tree in a bunch and talk to it "just a little to the left... no a little to the right... little more... up. up. no. okay," as though i haven't seen them do the exact same thing on their computer XD

i am definitely glad halloween decorations are gone. the next day some neighbours had their xmas lights up. like. it hasn't even been 24h... i didn't get any candy really, but people brought some in and left it in the kitchen for everyone, so that was nice.

gasp. today i learned about chargeable water bottles. i will buy two. one for each hand. my coworker sent me a link to a heated desk mat so i might just buy a bundle of everything to keep me warm (i sit at a window).

what did you bake! do you prefer baking over cooking? doing laundry is like my zen time. i sink my arms into the basket of clothes fresh out of the dryer and just smoosh myself into the warm glowing warming glow. that reminds me, do you listen to music while you write? or before/after, with silence while writing?

i said i wouldn't leave you long responses while you were away on holiday, so... i hope you don’t see this until later ^_^;;;

and please don't worry about how long it might take to reply, i really don't mind! just have a nice relaxing break <3

Hello my darling!

my holiday was fantastic, if very very busy. I've never been more grateful for my generally chilled social life. I had so many catch-ups and events that now I am a socially flat battery, oh dear!

Oh gosh, I love the concept of Mitsuya as the Haitani designer... Like he's so happy he's found these absolutely gorgeous models for his pieces, but at the same time... they're the Haitanis. I also feel like, no matter what, Rindou always ends up getting his clothes ruined. Whether it's blood, or any other kind of stain, it will be on Rindou's suit, not Ran's. Same goes for rips and tears. (Maybe it's because Ran takes his jacket off before he gets to business, maybe it's because Rindou is a bit feral) and just imagining Mitsuya scolding them the same way he scolds his little sisters when the Haitani's return to him with ruined clothes is truly wonderful. I can just imagine a stray pin or two "accidently" poking the boys whilst Mitsuya "alters" their new fits, and Mitsuya denying it categorically with that sweet soft look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Hakkai and Yuzu are dying in the background from laughter because only they can tell how grumpy Mitsuya really is.

My mans Akashi is the literal embodiment of this meme

he's just so tired of this shit, really. It's been a long week. four bodies to dispose of, two deals to close off, and Mikey hasn't left his room in three days. Sanzu is thriving off the Haitani tension, and it's the fifth time today that Akashi has had to drag his little brother out the room by his collar because Sanzu decided to ask Rindou where his girlfriend was, knowing full well that she left Rindou.

Mochi has already planned for early retirement, after spending a whole night listening to Koko go through every gift he bought you and asking Mochi why you would leave him if he got you the latest designer purse

As for chap 230, i think i reread it like five times in the space of half an hour. My silly stupid idiot, with his ridiculous grunge boy haircut and his ability to self-destruct when he doesn't have a guiding force. Gah! I love him. I love his stupid surprised pikachu face that literally has not changed in over a decade, I love his bright little sister who believes in him and wants him to be her right hand, I love his friends who gave him another chance. ugh. Chap 230 has only enhanced? the way I write him (yes I have started writing his pieces, I'm just slow because I crave perfection) and I'm very excited to share the lily series with you

regarding mikey, and the current chapters... hm... I really feel like I need to do a reread. I might do one this weekend so that I'm ready when Mikey and South clash - so let's maybe hold onto this thought? and don't worry about losing memory, I feel like I lose my memory from room to room, minute to minute, and it's even worse since I got back from holiday >_< i just spend ages staring at my screen wondering what the genuine fuck I'm meant to be doing, when I'm actually meant to be in another room, doing another chore... sigh...

I'm fairly certain that you've hit the nail on the head with regard to the "magic writing haze" (this sounds like I'm on ALL the drugs, lol). I become so conscious of my writing and my headspace whilst writing that I never get to actually write? hmm.. well, I've taken to typing out my random writing thoughts on my phone and then transferring them into the actual stories so that seems to work in capturing my occasional moments of creativity (this as also lead to a lot of raised eyebrows from my partner when he borrows my phone and finds a frantic half-finished description of cigarettes on the screen)

...

You must be so entertaining to watch when you work, talking to the trees and furniture, encouraging them to find their place in your design. It sounds so lovely. the only conversations I have with inanimate objects involve me yelling at my laptop when it goes on strike (it is currently protesting any situation that includes opening more than one tab, cry)

ah yes, the christmas cheer is here, in all of its green and red and sparkly glory. i'm not a fan really, but I don't mind it. It's just strange because there's so much focus on snow, meanwhile it's the middle of summer here? are you excited for christmas, if that is something you celebrate?

Chargeable hot water bottles are the future! they got me through most winter exam periods in high school and university, and they've kept me going through this year's research as well. I'd highly recommend them, and your little window cocoon of warmth sounds so lovely!

I made a family recipe for coconut biscuits! it's my favourite and I make it so often that I've figured out its secrets :) (It's over 70 years old and doesn't have any instructions, just ingredients and the will of god)

I cannot cook for shit. I usually leave that to my partner, whilst i handle cleaning and baking. I really enjoy cleaning, i find it very comforting. But I clean in the same style as Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle - like, get out or get washed, dried, and packed away!

I ALWAYS listen to music when I write. It's essential. Sometimes i stick to very chill lofi playlists ( you know the "Lofi for witches (only)" type of playlists? yeah, those) or I have playlists tailored for a specific mood or piece of content. Like I have a playlist entirely for writing fighting scenes for medieval pieces, and a playlist specifically for my JJK biker AU - so music whilst I write is very important.

hsdfghkkl, this got really long and squirelly, sorry! hopefully now that I'm back and more "online" I can reply quicker and not throw a whole week's worth of thoughts and fatigue at you (yikes).

I hope you're having a good week so far! thinking of you and sending lots of love <3

[cali-holland]

Golden Hearts, Prologue

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond AU ~ Sequel to Golden Bullets

Following a messy split, Harrison, Agent 007, resumes his role as an elite womanizer, after his recovery from his previous mission; meanwhile, you’ve stepped back from your 00 status, taking on cases as MI6’s assistant director from your office. When a new threat emerges to MI6 and a dear friend gets kidnapped, can you and Harrison set aside your differences to save special agent Q, better known as Tom? Or will the stakes- and your love, push you two further apart?

Word Count: 2700

Gif is not mine

Golden Hearts Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: violence (unnamed character death, guns, someone gets stabbed, kidnapping, tranq dart, punching/kicking), swearing, sexual themes (my attempt at a heavy make out sesh), mentions of drugs & sex trafficking & sexual abuse

~~~

Tom hated field work, he really did. He could handle himself fine with a gun, but he still hated it nonetheless. Maybe it was because he hated the feeling of having no control. Behind a computer, he was the one in complete control. He could hack, invent, and upgrade things as he pleased, as if it was simple; there were no unknown variables, not truly.

Maybe another reason he hated field work was his current state— yet again, who would enjoy running away from the bullets of angry Spanish men, who were also possibly cyberterrorists.

Technically though, this wasn’t even field work. This was Tom having a good time with his family in Spain when he discovered a meeting of said suspected cyberterrorists. He didn’t mean to stumble across the secret meeting, but when he did, he did his best to acquire surveillance of the scene with his camera, taking a few photographs of the men, clear enough for facial recognition to be successful later. Thankfully, the men hadn’t linked him back to his family, leaving him to flee- or well, attempt to because he knew this information needed to be sent to MI6.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Tom cursed, ducking down an alleyway before kicking in the nearby door. He raced up the stairs and checked behind him quickly. The men were far enough behind him that he was fine- he had time to finish this small mission. He ran into the small, worn down, windowless apartment M had supplied him in case of an emergency, which he definitely felt like this counted as one. Grabbing the laptop from the desk, he slid his camera’s memory drive into it.

“Come on, come on.” He mumbled as he waited for the laptop to load the images. With the file upload complete, he drafted a quick email, fingers flying across the keyboard.

‘Find L’Americain.’ Tom wrote out in the message space before adding in the two recipients, the two people he could trust most with this critical information. Just before he could press the little arrow to send the message, the door got kicked down by the opposing men. Instantly, Tom put his hands up in surrender, knowing with his lack of weapons that taking them on wasn’t his best option- or maybe it was.

One of the men shouted out orders, and Tom eyed the open email in front of him. He couldn’t let this just go to waste; no, he was sacrificing his life for this, it had to go to someone at least. Taking a deep breath, he quickly hit the send button. In one fast motion, he removed the memory drive and threw it on the ground, crushing it and all of its data. He shut the laptop and put his hands up again, feeling one of the men step forward and point his gun against Tom’s head.

“Alright, I’m done.” Tom said with a sigh. He watched as a second man opened the laptop, only to find the computer frozen without Tom’s unhackable code to unlock it. The leader spoke again, and this time, the man behind Tom shoved him to turn him around.

“Who did you send the message to?” The leader questioned in a thick Spanish accent.

“Doesn’t matter.” He paused, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, “All you need to know is— you don’t need to find them, they’ll find you.”

“Are you sure about that?” The other man asked, cocking his gun.

With a wave of confidence, Tom grabbed the man’s wrist in front of him, twisting it up and grabbing the gun from his hands. He fired twice, one hit the man in the chest and the second at the laptop, blowing a bullet straight through the device. He then shot the only light in the room, sending the space into darkness. Tom ducked as the other two fired blindly, and he swept his leg down to knock one over. Tom clutched onto his gun before running in the direction of the exit.

The moment he got back onto the streets of Spain, he ran as fast as his feet could carry him, booking it down the busy roads towards the proper MI6 safehouse, where, hopefully, a better and actually trained field agent would be. He could see the familiar, yellow safe house in the distance, just a block away, and he began to run even harder, feeling a surge of hopefulness overcome him. He might actually make it through this.

That hope was quickly lost as two black motorcycles came from the side streets, stopping with their guns raised, effectively halting him in his tracks. Tom raised his own gun, ready to fire at them. While he was distracted by these two, he didn’t catch the third motorcyclist behind him. He felt a prick to his neck before a sudden wave of drowsiness washed through his system. Dropping the gun, he fell limp to his knees.

“The hell—?” He mumbled, his fingers tracing over the tranq dart in the back of his neck. 

That was the last thing he remembered before he slipped into a deep state of unconsciousness.

~~~

The moment he stepped into the club, he was blinded by the pink and gold neon lights, his ears flooding with the blaring sound of some atrocious techno music that had no business being played in such a setting. He followed the waitress dressed in the club’s signature colors to a vip room. When she opened the door for him, he slid past her while brushing his fingers against her waist, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. In the room sat six men around a deep brown circular table, all dressed in their finest suits; the smoke from their cigars hanging in the air and onto their crisp glasses of whiskey.

The one at the head of the table spoke first, his hand outstretching towards the only open chair at the table, “How nice of you to join us, Mr.—?”

“Osterfield. Harrison Osterfield.” He answered, smoothing out his suit as he took a seat in the chair.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” The waitress asked from his side.

“Martini. Thank you, love.” Harrison replied, his lips in his signature smirk. The woman left the room quickly, leaving him to discuss business with the other men.

“So, Mr. Osterfield,” The leader didn’t get to finish his thought as Harrison held up a finger, silently telling him to wait a moment. The waitress returned to the room, handing him the shaken martini.

“I never discuss business without a drink first.” He stated, before drinking the beverage down in one quick motion. His fingers traced the small, sharp metal rod, complete with a green olive still on the end of it. The men watched as he picked the olive off, abandoning it in the glass.

“You know, I thought a bunch of drug dealing, sex trafficking assholes would check their new guests for guns first.” Harrison said. The men went to draw their weapons, but he was faster, throwing the rod across the table and straight into the leader’s eye. He drew his compacted machine gun from his back holster, firing along the circular table until none of them so much as blinked. He tucked his gun back away under his suit and turned to see the same waitress from before. Her eyes were wide with fear, but he could see her shoulders relax as she realized he wasn’t going to harm her, an innocent employee. He watched as her eyes stayed on one man of the group in particular. 

Slowly, Harrison stepped towards her, “Did he hurt you?” When she nodded, he went to comfort her, but she shook her head the moment his hands touched hers.

“Thank you. They were the worst.” She stated, and Harrison couldn’t sense any fear in her voice as she spoke; no, she sounded perfectly fine- happy, even.

“It’s no problem, love.” He smiled at her, blue eyes lighting up as her eyes met his.

“There must be some way for me to,” She paused, “repay you.”

“Well,” Harrison’s lips curved into a smirk, eyeing the waitress up and down, “What time do you get off, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Harder, Harry!”

“I don’t want to hurt you- oh god.” Harry landed on the ground with a loud thud. He let out a groan, rubbing his abdomen where your punch had landed. You playfully rolled your eyes at him as you held out a hand for him to stand up again. He took your hand and nearly fell over again, still surprised by how forceful your grip was.

“Told you I could handle myself.” You teased, making him laugh.

“Are we done yet?” He asked, but still got in position across from you in the ring.

“You can’t be tired already?” You joked, and he raised his eyebrows at you. You sighed, before raising your fists. “Fine. Last one.”

“Loser buys drinks on Friday?” Harry offered, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Agents aren’t my type. Besides, you already know I’m going to win.” You smirked.

“I’m not an agent yet, remember?” He reminded you with a wink.

“Your status changes at midnight, Agent 003.”

“Better get busy on those drinks then.”

As you started to throw punches at him again, he blocked them the best he could, his arms and torso still getting clipped by your knuckles. You started to pull your punches, letting him feel like he had the upper hand. Just as Harry was about to make a comment about finally beating you, you jumped up and kicked him square in the chest, sending him backwards and onto the decently solid ground of the sparring mat. You smirked down at him.

“Finished, Holland?” You asked, and he let out a sigh and nodded- rather, nodded as best he could. You held your hand out to him again, and he took it just like every other time you knocked him over in training. “Good session today. I say you’re 00 ready.”

“I still can’t believe it. Me? A 00 agent.” Harry chuckled while the two of you walked outside of the sparring ring to get your water bottles. “I can’t wait to tell Tom.”

“When does he get back from Spain? He’s there with your family, right?” You inquired before taking a long drink of the refreshing ice cold water.

“Yeah, he should be back in a few days. I’m still kinda bummed my training process kept me from going, but I guess you kinda sign away family vacation as a 00.” He laughed.

“Oh, definitely.” The training room fell silent as you quickly gathered your bag. The moment you were ready to leave, you made a beeline for the door, and Harry jogged to catch up to you.

“About those drinks-“ He started.

“I’ve already told you. It’s not happening, Harry.” You replied, continuing your path to your car.

“Just one date?” He asked. When you didn’t respond, he reached a hand out for yours. The second his finger brushed against your skin, you instinctively grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck. I’ll drop it.”

You let go of his hand with a small laugh, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.” And with that, you got into your BMW and sent him a quick wave. 

When you got back to your apartment, you let out a deep sigh, tossing your bag down next to your couch. It was silent, just like it always was now. Sticky with sweat from your post-work training, you headed straight for the shower. Once you were out of the warm water’s embrace, you changed into your red satin robe, draping it over your shoulders and tying it around your waist. You turned on the TV for background noise as you cooked yourself a quick meal for dinner. It wasn’t until you were sitting down and eating that you realized your TV was playing a “Mission Impossible” movie, right in the middle of an action-packed Tom Cruise scene.

You watched as the actor scaled the Burj Khalifa in Mumbai. With a sigh, you set your empty plate and fork aside, twirling the steak knife in your hand. You didn’t take your eyes off the movie as you threw the knife to your right, sending it straight into the bullseye of your dartboard. You huffed; a steak knife and a dartboard, you really were bored.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss field work. There was a reason why you personally trained Harry to become a 00 agent instead of having another, lesser agent take it on. After all, though, Tom wanted his younger brother to be trained by the best, which was you, even after three months behind a desk. You missed the suspense of keeping undercover, the sweet taste of action, all of it. 

But MI6 was changing, and that meant you had to change too. As M retired and was replaced by the new M, Gareth Mallory, you turned in your 00 status to stay in the office. And, with Nine Eyes, a new global security company, seeking to merge with MI6, the 00 program was at stake now as it is, yet all of that was information left to remain between you, Q, and M. Global security sounded like a dream, but it would mean a lot more changes to the organization.

Just as you were about to turn off your TV and turn in for yet another lonely night, a notification came through your computer across the room. Curious, you stood up and walked over to your desk, taking a seat in the office chair to examine the new notification.

“New encrypted message from Q,” the screen read. You clicked on the message to open it, your eyes going wide at the contents.

“Oh god,” You breathed out.

Meanwhile, across London, Harrison was having a different night than you. 

“This is me.” The waitress’s lips barely separated from Harrison’s as she spoke. With his hands around her waist, fisting at the loose fabric of her work dress, he walked them backwards out of the elevator. He dipped his head down to hungrily nip at her neck while she led them to her apartment. She fumbled with the keys as Harrison found the sweet spot on her neck, already marking a hickey there. The moment she got the door open, his hands slid down the back of her thighs and she jumped into his embrace, chests pressed against each other.

“Bedroom?” Harrison panted out, his blue eyes full of lust.

“First door on the left.” She barely got the words out before his lips were desperately back on hers. 

He stumbled his way through the dark apartment to her bedroom before laying her down on the bed. Her hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt as he discarded his jacket somewhere behind him. She pushed her lips back onto his, sloppily kissing him while he shrugged off his shirt. Harrison wasted no time in finding the zipper on her dress, tugging it down. The moment the dress slipped from around her, she pulled Harrison back with her on the bed, and his lips hungrily followed hers, moans slipping from both of their throats as their tongues and teeth clashed.

Hearing his smartwatch alert him of a new message, Harrison broke the kiss, leaning on one arm to look at his wrist. The waitress’s lips dipped down his neck, biting and sucking on his skin as her hands scratched over his abs, a detour on the way to his belt. 

“New encrypted message from Q.” Harrison read the alert, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“Stop, stop.” Harrison said, pulling the waitress off his body as he got off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” She asked, hurt by the sudden change.

“I have to go. Sorry, love.” He answered, but he really wasn’t that apologetic as he slipped his clothes back on. She huffed and made some angry comment about him mistreating women, but the words flew over his head. He rushed out of the apartment and made his way to the elevator. Once he was within the comfort of the four metal walls with no one around, he opened up the new email on his phone. He let out a shaky sigh, peering down at the message’s contents.

“Shit.”

~~~

General Tag List: @viagracex​​​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @gorillaglue23

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland​ @where-art-thau-romeo​

Original Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @spencerreidxoxo @duskholland