#my teeth started hurting this week so badly that i couldn't sleep

[neroushalvaus]

That little voice in your head that says you can just chug down some painkillers for severe wisdom tooth pain? That's the devil talking. Call a fucking dentist, Kevin.

[charliedawn]

Hello! Is it possible for me to get a one-shot of Morgen Lecter and wife!reader where she is brought into the hospital after her friend and her get into a bad car accident (the friend was driving and texting despite his wife's protests) and his wife badly hurt, but lives as does her friend (who didn't get that hurt)? Also, can he be livid with the friend?

Thank you!

Morgan was having his usual shift at the hospital when he was warned of an emergency at the entrance.

He went there and frowned as he saw a familiar woman standing there.

He then remembered that she was your friend...friend that you were supposed to spend the night with.

What was she doing here ? Had you come to visit ? He looked around for you, but frowned as he didn't see you.

That's when he noticed the band-aids on her face and arms. She looked like she had been in a car accident.

He returned his eyes on your friend who looked anxious and froze in shock when she saw him. Her eyes widened and she suddenly broke into tears.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't drink that much. It was raining and I..."

He didn't let let her finish—his jaw twitching as he asked with a deadly calmness.

"Where is she ?"

Your friend took a step back at the coldness in his eyes. He almost seemed...dead inside.

He just wanted to know where you were.

He took a small step forward and his eyelids felt so heavy...He felt a dullness in his heart as he asked again.

"Where is she ? Please...Tell me. Tell me she wasn't with you."

He didn't know who he was pleading to and your friend's face twisted with sorrow as she opened her mouth and tried to find the words.

"It...It wasn't my fault. I...It was raining and I..."

Morgan felt ice grow in his chest.

He raised his hand forward and for a second, your friend tought he was going to attack her...But, he lowered it and shook his head.

No. He refused to believe it. You couldn't be...

He had trouble breathing and gritted his teeth before turning around and leaving to check with the medical staff.

You must be somewhere. You had to be...

He felt dizzy and his eyes were glassy.

What a strange feeling...

He had never been afraid before.

He kept walking and searched for you everywhere. You had to be here. You couldn't...You couldn't be...He shook his head as memories of the both of you kept flashing in front of his eyes.

No. You couldn't be...

Finally, he had the information from one of his colleagues that you had been admitted in urgent care and thanked him before walking to your room.

He found you asleep and sat down next to you. He stared at your peaceful face and for once, Morgan was at a loss for words.

He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry.

His throat felt like sandpaper as he swallowed and took your hand in his.

"Please...Wake up. I don't care where you are or if you are having the most wonderful dream...I'm begging you. Wake up for me."

He kissed the palm of your hand and finally, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"...Wake up, my love."

A few weeks later :

Morgan was doing his regular rounds and finished with your room.

He sat by you side again and started talking to you about his day—as if everything was alright.

He knew it wasn't, but he didn't want to sound dejected. He wanted you to hear his voice and come back to him as soon as possible.

He kissed your forehead and smiled, but didn't back away.

He stayed there, and even if he had promised himself not to let himself despair...He couldn’t help but shed a few tears and shake as days of exhaustion took their toll on him.

"I love you...Please, Y/N. Come back. Come back to me."

And as if you had heard his desperate call—your eyes fluttered open and you let out a soft gasp.

Morgan's eyes snapped open and his face lit up with a smile as he quickly wiped his tears away.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty. You scared me, you know ?"

You couldn't help but smile up at him and look at your intertwined fingers with tears in your eyes.

"I heard you...Every night...I..."

You groaned at the pain in your lower back as you pushed yourself upright and Morgan eagerly helped you.

"Hey, don't move you'll...", he started.

But then, you froze and your eyes watered.

"Morgan...My legs. I can't feel them."

Morgan's eyes widened as he looked at your legs and his breath hitched. Hd did think about it and by the way you had stayed the longest under your car—he had dreaded the possibility.

You broke into sobs in his arms and he held you close against his chest.

"Ssh...It's alright. We're alright. You're awake. That's all that matters. We'll fix this. I'll fix this..."

He refused to let you go and kissed your forehead.

That's when a noise alerted the both of you of another presence.

Your friend was standing in the doorway.

She had waited for you to wake up too.

She came in with a sorrowful look on her face and bit her her lower lip in order not to break into sobs as she saw you awake.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Y/N. They say they have to perform surgery and I...I'm so sorry. Please. Forgive me. I didn't mean to.."

She wanted to get closer, but Morgan glared up at her.

"You almost made me lose her. She may never get up ever again because of you. You are so lucky she still cares about you, or I'd have already dragged you to the woods and finish you off."

You shivered at the threat that you knew was all too real.

He then stood up and faced your friend with his eyebrows furrowed and fists clenched tightly.

"You were supposed to get her home safe...You failed. You're a failure, and a bad friend. NOW, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT !"

"Morgan !", you gasped—horrified as his expression changed and you were scared the vein at the side of his neck would actually burst.

You had never seen him so angry...

Your friend's eyes widened at his words and tears started spilling down her face.

"I...I said I was sorry."

Morgan's eyes turned dark from the pure anger raging inside of him and your friend seemed to understand she might not survive if she was to stay.

She gave you one last apologetic glance before leaving.

Morgan followed her with his eyes until she was out of the room before he returned beside you to take your hand.

"...I'll find a way. I'll fix this. I promise.", he told you and you smiled tenderly at him.

You looked at both of your rings and were grateful yours hadn't fallen off.

"I know you will, Morgan. I trust you."

He closed his fingers over your and brought your knuckles to his lips to press his lips against them.

He didn't know why you seemed to have so much faith in him, but he swore he would live up to your expectations.

He would make everything okay again.

He made you the promise by then kissing the ring on your finger.

"...I won't leave you. Never."

You sniffed and wrapped your arms around him.

"I know...I love you."

Morgan smiled and held you closer to him.

"I love you too."

[mieczyhale]

took a shower, and actually brushed & fully dried my hair, and was feeling tired but p good about getting that done

the josh comes in with "do you wanna try making the bed on your own this time? so you can feel accomplished?"

bitch what

i was feeling kind of accomplished but i certainly don't anymore

"i just didn't know how gung-ho you were, if you were feeling up to it"

then just fucking ask that

i know he didn't mean anything by it but goddamn, dude

i was already feeling a little :( bc i had wanted to brush my teeth too but that just wasn't happening tonight, but now i feel very :(

in positive news tho, the last time i showered was less than two weeks ago so this was INCREDIBLY early for me to be showering again (for the last year or so there's been a lot more time between actual showers than that. like.. a lot, depending on my ocd. bc i didn't get the 'needs to be clean' ocd, i got the 'here are rituals for every second you're in the shower, you can't move onto the next step without perfecting the current one, and oh - this might go so badly you bleed. have fun!' ocd)

and i did brush my teeth saturday night, so comparing to *gestures at the last couple of years* if i had managed to brush them again today that would've also been hella early. so it's not the worst thing in the world that i couldn't manage it. but still.

going to order food and be lazy until bedtime. josh is off until monday, which i'm v happy about, but he still won't stay up much past his usual bedtime. hashtag grandpa.

oh and i've been kinda lowkey sick the last two-ish days but i think whatever it was passed?? my stomach is doing better at least and i think the major headache i had earlier was from not sleeping enough. but idk. we're not out of the woods yet, lads

oh! another positive! we went grocery shopping yesterday night! so we have snacks and stuff again finally. josh pointed out while we were checking out that our groceries look horrible, especially for two (2) adults. it looks like we only eat junk food and candy, and tbh he's not wrong. it does look like that. it also looks like we have the beverage taste of a highschool boy. BUT we do eat actual food. we just don't buy it (or rarely buy it) from the store. we don't cook (hi mental health hi) so most of the food items we get are snacks / snack-adjacent items. and like... sandwich stuff lol i'm just happy to have snacks again so i don't have to spend money on Actual FoodTM when i'm not that hungry y'know?? y'know

okay my head is starting to hurt again so i'm.. probably gonna change nothing about what i'm doing rn EXCEPT I STILL NEED TO GET FOOD

FUCK

[ellephlox]

Concordant

This is a sequel to Discordant — you don't need to have read that oneshot to understand this one, but I'd highly recommend starting there!

In case you do decide to skip Discordant, a short summary is that Reader got in a dangerous situation trying to help out Matt, and so Matt's really angry about it. This is essentially the fallout from that argument.

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Summary: You and Matt are going through a rough patch. Karen and Foggy devise a plan to help out by kidnapping you and Matt to force you to speak to one another encouraging communication and quality time together.

Warnings: mention of a mass shooting, profanity, angst

A/N: I had absolutely no plans to make a part 2 but enough people asked so here we are!!

There was a shooting in Hell's Kitchen. Four dead, eight injured. Shots were fired just after one in the morning at a bar by a white man in his fifties or sixties, according to witnesses. While it was devastating, people claimed it would have been much worse, had the Devil not shown up and knocked out the shooter within thirty seconds, who was now in police custody and awaiting his trial.

Usually, you would have heard a story like this directly from Matt. He would have told you what he'd heard, and how he went into the fight; he would have described whether or not the shooter could actually throw a punch and maybe how he almost botched the whole thing by nearly twisting his ankle on a bit of spilled mac 'n' cheese on the floor. Then he would have assured you that either way you had nothing to worry about, and that yes, of course, he was always careful.

Not this time.

This time, you heard the story on the news while you were getting dressed for work. Hearing Matt's epithet spoken so reverently by the newscaster made your spine prickle with a mixture of anger and hurt, so you muted the television in spite, only to unmute it a few seconds later from raw curiosity.

It had been a week since you'd fought with him. After you had showered and gotten the blood off of yourself, you went back to your apartment, and said not another word to Matt. Something deep inside you thought that he would reach out first, so you kept your window unlocked at night, thinking that a certain horned figure would slip inside and join you under the covers, whispering an apology and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

But no one showed up, and each night you brushed your teeth, alone; climbed under the covers, alone; read under your lamp when you couldn't sleep, alone.

Several times (more like sixteen times — but who was counting?) you picked up the phone and typed in his number, but never dialed. You had only tried to help him, and the fact that he refused to acknowledge your good intentions stung so badly that it kept you from extending an olive branch.

So when your phone rang that morning, you jumped to it; it wasn't as though you had a ton of people that were calling you on a day-to-day basis. It was Foggy, though, and you tried to hide your disappointment with a cheerful greeting.

"You're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he said. "You have a day off or something?"

"Ha. I wish. I'm on my way into work right now," you said as you locked your door. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about Matt, actually," Foggy said. You froze, mouth going dry, but fortunately he continued talking. "He's not here right now. Obviously. Or else I wouldn't be talking about this with you. And I just called him; he said he's just gotten out of the shower, so I've got a safe fifteen minutes at least before he's in the nefarious earshot zone. Which, as you and I both know, is very ambiguous when it comes to our bat-like friend."

"Uh, yeah." You emerged onto the street, blinking in the sunlight. "So you know I'm not with him right now, then."

"Yeah, Matt said that you had something to do at your apartment last night, and that you wouldn't be staying with him."

Ah. So Foggy didn't know that you were in a fight with Matt. You tried to act casual. "Yeah, I didn't see him last night. Word on the news is that he took down that active shooter."

"Oh, don't worry, I've already drilled him on the phone. Demanded to know whether he has any extra holes on him currently."

"That's a creepy way of putting it, Foggy."

"His answer was no," Foggy said blithely. "Anyway, I wanted to know if you knew what was going on with him."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer; it was too vague of a prompt to respond to. "Well, what have you noticed?" you asked carefully.

He snorted. "Pretty much everything that exists in the Moody Matt Murdock Archive. There's a never-ending mug of coffee on his desk, he's got extra bruises on his face, and he's so far behind in paperwork that I'm working overtime to cover his ass."

You felt a flare of annoyance on Foggy's behalf. "You don't have to do that. Let him reap the consequences."

"Nah. We're on the same ship, y'know? And if I've got to be the one keeping Nelson and Murdock afloat for awhile, it wouldn't be the first time."

"That's not fair to you."

But Foggy plowed on, unperturbed. "And my guess is that he hasn't been to confession in awhile. Did he go last Sunday?"

Crap. You had absolutely no idea, considering you hadn't seen Matt in days. "You know, I actually was thinking," you stalled, "about how — oh, shit!"

"What?"

"I'm running late!" you said, guilt shooting through you at the half-lie. While it wasn't untrue, it was also a terrible excuse. Poor Foggy didn't deserve either of you. "So sorry, Foggy, I've got to split. I'll call you later?"

"No problem-o," he said, and you gratefully ended the call, having no intention to call him back later with the threat of him questioning you again. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with him knowing that you were in a fight with Matt, but knowing him, he'd try to solve it, and the last thing you wanted was a counseling session led by Foggy.

That, however, was far from the worst encounter of your day.

Because of course in a city like New York, where the total population literally exceeded eight million, you'd run into the one person you didn't want to see, in the line of a local café, of all places. Not to mention it was a café you thought he'd never go to, seeing as you'd never been there with him before and only occasionally went on days like today when you needed a tomato and pesto panini to cheer you up.

At first, you didn't see him when you entered, because you were toggling with your phone to shut off your music and take out your earbuds. Only when you joined the line at the counter and looked up did you instantly recognize the man directly in front of you.

This has to be a cosmic joke. That was all you could think, as you stared numbly from the collar of his button-down to the heels of his shoes. He had obviously noticed you were there; his shoulders were tense, and from the death grip with which he held his cane, you might've thought he was going to turn around and whack you in the head with it.

You almost turned around and walked right out of the store, but defiance kept you rooted to your place. You stayed still, arms crossed, while Matt ordered a Greek salad. When it was your turn to order, he was still standing by the counter, waiting for his takeout to get packaged up.

"Could I have the tomato and pesto panini, please?" you asked the cashier, tapping your foot anxiously as Matt's presence seared on your right. "And also a water?"

"Sure thing. For here or to-go?"

"To-go, please."

"Y/N," Matt said finally, once you finished ordering and there was nothing else to do but face him. There wasn't a hint of a smile on his lips. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Don't worry about it," you told him. "I'm used to you not understanding anything when it comes to where I choose to be." You made your point all too obvious to Matt, whose lips pursed at the end of your sentence. One of the customers next to you gave you a funny look, as though to say, Are you insulting him because he's blind? Embarrassed, you stepped a bit closer to Matt so you could lower your voice. "And you need to get your shit together. Foggy's covering for you. Again. He doesn't deserve that. Just because you're brooding or whatever isn't an excuse to—"

"You're in no place to criticize," he said in a low voice. Without warning his hand shot out and gripped your shoulder with an iron-like strength, steering you to the hall leading to the bathrooms where it was quieter. You pressed yourself against the wall, still crossing your arms over yourself and ignoring the anxious guilt stirring in your chest.

Nope, nope, nope, you cannot be the one to apologize, he's got to do it first, do not apologize, no matter what—

"Foggy's my friend, too, and I have a right to tell you that you should treat him better," you said instead, panic flaring through you at the boldness of your own words. Dammit, stay calm, heartbeat, don't give me away.

Matt's voice was steely. "You've got nerve to say that to me, after everything that's happened."

Your mouth flopped open. "Are you serious? I've got nerve to say that you should treat your best friend better?"

"Did you ever stop to think that I might be spending my time actually helping people? That maybe things have been worse lately and I've been trying to do something about it? Saving this city, making sure that people like you get home safely? That you still get home safely?"

"I didn't ask for that."

"Well, neither did I," he shot back. "Now you know what it's like."

"I don't understand why you're mad at me," you said, frustrated. "I only tried to help. That was all, Matt."

He laughed derisively. "The fact that we've gone over this a few times now and you still can't see what's wrong about it is amazing, Y/N. Yeah, at first I was mad at how reckless your decision was, not to mention that you didn't come in with one single weapon on you. I've gotten over that. Now I'm just pissed that you can't see my side of things. You can't even entertain the thought for one second that I might be right. If you could just acknowledge that you were wrong—"

"That's a lofty ask coming from the same man who hasn't acknowledged my view, either."

"Then maybe we're at an impasse." Matt's eyes were trained on your ear; you could barely see them behind the lenses of the glasses. "Unless you can promise me that you'd never do something like that again."

"That's the dumbest condition I've ever heard," you snarled. "Don't be ridiculous."

Matt's hand abruptly left your shoulder, leaving it cold. "Then that's it. See, this is why I should never have let you know who I am, what I do. Mistakes happen and people get hurt."

"They do," you agreed. "They can get hurt in more ways than one, Matt. Physical pain isn't the only type of pain."

"I won't keep making that mistake, then," Matt said coolly. "And you won't have to worry about me hurting you ever again."

"Greek salad!" one of the workers yelled, and without further ado Matt's hand left your shoulder, leaving a cold spot there. You stared at the beige wall for another minute, and only left robotically once your own sandwich had been made.

Did we break up? The question plagued you all night. You stared at your ceiling, unable to feel even slightly sleepy. It was like a gnawing black hole inside you, and the more you thought about it the more you wanted to cry. Or scream. Maybe both. How had it all gone so wrong?

Crying eventually won out, and you crammed your face into your pillow as tears, unbidden, came out. It pissed you off at the same time, because you had a terrible feeling that Matt probably hadn't shed one tear over it.

He was excited for a chance to break up. You didn't want to believe it, but it seemed too rational to ignore. He'd been all too quick to jump at the chance to be alone again, hadn't he? He'd decided he didn't want to date anymore; it was apparently a failed experiment in allowing someone into both his lives as Matt Murdock and as Daredevil. You couldn't be enough to live in both of those lives with him, and so he had to cut you off. It made sense. Miserably you finally turned your light on and began to read, wondering distantly whether Matt was anywhere near you and if you had even crossed his mind that night.

Somehow you must have fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly your alarm was chiming loudly and light was streaming into your eyes. Groggily you pulled back your blankets and got dressed, showered and made breakfast, and only then did you check your phone.

A message from Karen was there. Slightly bewildered, you unlocked your phone.

Hey, Y/N! Was thinking of taking a drive upstate today. Spur of the moment thing. Want to join?

It was like a blessing; here was Karen, with a distraction ready to go that would get you out of your apartment and, more importantly, Hell's Kitchen. Without hesitation you agreed and she texted back almost immediately to tell you that she'd pick you up in an hour.

"Where are we headed?" you asked once you got into the passenger seat, grinning at her. She had put her hair in a ponytail and already had the music playing. This is exactly what I need. Now you almost hoped Matt would show up at your apartment today, because it gave you immense satisfaction to picture him taking the time to go see you and make amends, only for your apartment to be empty.

"It's a surprise," was all she said, giving you a mysterious smile. "I will say that it's a place meant for rejuvenation and open air."

Rejuvenation and open air. A spa day, maybe? You hoped so.

The drive ended up taking almost six hours. It was far longer than you were expecting and your legs were cramped by the time Karen finally announced that the destination was only five minutes away. The so-called "destination", however, was a bit concerning, because all you'd seen in the past thirty minutes was farmland, trees, and dilapidated signs for MALONE, NY.

"We're here," Karen announced, pulling the car into the lot beside an austere building.

"Uh — if you don't mind me asking," you said, starting to feel slightly concerned, "Where exactly is here?"

"Take a look," she said brightly.

You squinted at the letters sculpted above the doors. "Franklin County Courthouse? We should send a picture to Foggy. He'd find that hilarious."

"We won't have to send a picture, actually." Karen's lips were tight as though she were trying to resist smiling and you suddenly felt uneasy. "Foggy's pulling in, right now."

"What's going on?" you asked suspiciously, but a moment later, your question was answered.

Foggy parked right next to Karen, and right there, sitting sullenly in the passenger seat, was Matt, still dressed in a tee shirt and sweats that had a few old bloodstains on them.

"What the hell?" you hissed, launching yourself back against the seat as though Matt could see you. "Why is he here?"

Karen didn't bat an eye. "You and Matt are being stupid. Foggy and I agreed that you, Y/N, are the best thing that's ever happened to Matt Murdock and we're not going to let you two drift apart over a dumb miscommunication."

"It's not a miscommunication," you argued. "It's him being pig-headed and thinking that he can just—"

"You two both love each other, and that's why you're fighting," Karen interrupted. "So, this is our therapy that we devised."

You stared, agape. "What is?"

Foggy opened up your passenger side door, a wide smile on his face. "Hate to evict you, Y/N, but you've got to get out."

"Excuse me?"

"We're swapping," he said cheerfully. "And you're going to drive back to New York City with Matt."

"I'm — what? No, I'm not!"

"This isn't happening, Foggy." Matt had gotten out of the car and was closing the door. His glasses glinted in the sunlight, sending blinding beams of light bouncing at you. "This is between Y/N and me. Not you and Karen."

"Try and stop us, then," Foggy said, climbing into the car.

Matt was glowering. "I will. I'm warning you, Foggy. If it comes to force, then—"

But Karen only laughed. "Foggy said you'd act all threatening, Matt. It's kind of cute that you think it's going to stop us."

"I did say that!" Foggy was practically aglow. "I told Karen that you'd threaten to go all Daredevil on us, but that's why we picked this venue. See?" He pointed at the courthouse, where there were several security cameras. "Sorry, man. I wouldn't recommend fighting us while on tape or you'll compromise your identity."

Matt's fists were clenched so tightly that even you began to feel a bit nervous.

"How did you even know?" you asked, turning to Foggy. "When I talked to you on the phone, I didn't say anything. And I'm guessing Mr. Cold Shoulder over there didn't confess his feelings to you."

Foggy looked at you, eyebrows raised. "Seriously, Y/N? I knew the moment Matt was moody and you were at your own apartment. You underestimate the sensitivity of my best-friends-are-squabbling-radar."

"This is a waste of time," Matt said. "We're in an argument, and it has nothing to do with you two. So let me ride back with you, Foggy, and Y/N can stay with Karen until she's ready to actually behave like an adult and talk to me—"

"Are you kidding me?" you said, incredulous. "You're the one making this so difficult! And by the way, this is feeling very much like kidnapping — Karen, you sort of lied to me–"

"We never lied. We just didn't specify the truth," she countered. "It's for your own good."

"Here." Foggy tossed the keys to his car at you. "You and Matt enjoy your next six hours together."

"Foggy—"

"Bye!" He slammed his passenger door, and Karen stepped on the gas so hard that you were left in a cloud of dust, coughing as you breathed it in.

Once they were gone, it was the worst silence imaginable that was left. Matt still stood, stiff as a board, beside the car. Not doing it. Not even going to try talking to him. Resolutely you turned on your heel and began to march out of the lot, keeping your chin high.

"Where are you going?" Matt demanded from behind you.

"Home."

"You planning on walking?"

"No."

"Then—"

"There are other methods of transportation, Matthew. I'm going to find a bus. Or a taxi. Or I'll hitchhike. Anything, really, to avoid spending any time in a car with you."

"So you're going to just leave Foggy's car here?"

You halted in your tracks. That was a caveat that you hadn't foreseen. Matt certainly couldn't drive Foggy's car back to Hell's Kitchen. "He deserves it for leaving us here," you said, fighting to keep the uncertainty out of your voice.

To your irritation, Matt snorted. "You're lying."

"Shut up. I'm going to hitchhike."

"Again, you're lying."

"Fine." You stomped back over and jangled the keys. "I'm driving back in Foggy's car, but you're going to have to find some other way to get back because I don't want you in here with me."

"You think I'm thrilled about spending the rest of my Saturday with you, Y/N?" Matt's voice was biting. "But look around you. We're in a small town, upstate New York. The public transportation here is nonexistent."

"Tough."

"Y/N, I don't like this either, but you're going to have to suck it up and drive us back."

"Don't tell me what to do," you snapped. You jangled the keys again. "You're forgetting who has the keys here. I'm in control."

Quicker than the blink of an eye, Matt swung you around, wrapping the crook of his left arm around your neck, and swiping your wallet from your pocket with his right hand. He was warm; you could smell his shampoo just from being pressed, back-to, against his chest. As much as you were pissed at him, your body tingled at the physical touch, and goosebumps rose up your arms before he released you almost as quickly, holding your wallet up as though it were a prize. "Don't be so sure," he said, the corners of his lips lifting up.

You lunged at him, but he easily swapped the wallet to his other hand. "Give me my wallet back!"

"Not until you drive us back."

"What if the security cameras—"

"Foggy and Karen were bluffing. I guarantee there's no one looking over the footage right now."

You cursed under your breath. There was no way you'd be able to get your wallet back from Matt, and without it, you had no money on you. "Fine! Fine. Get in the car, Matthew."

Without a word he climbed in, and you got into the driver's seat.

The first two and a half hours, while horribly uncomfortable, at least didn't involve any talking. You were more than happy to realize that Matt, true to his declaration that he had no interest in riding with you, had no intentions to speak.

And then you had to pee.

You pulled into the first gas station that you drove by and parked by the front. "I need to use the restroom," you said shortly to Matt. "And I'm getting a water."

He didn't answer.

"Do you need anything?" you continued, forcing out the words. "Aside from the ability to empathize?"

Matt's head tilted towards you. "If I needed anything, I'd get it myself."

"Right. You get mad at anyone who tries to help you."

"Quit playing offense and hurry up, Y/N. This is the last way that I wanted to spend my day."

You barely resisted giving him the finger as you slammed the car door and went into the gas station. The cashier handed you a key for a bathroom outside the building, so you went back out and wrapped around to the back of the gas station where there was a rusting metal door labeled TOILET.

The lock took nearly a full thirty seconds to twist, it was so rusted. Only after locking it did you realize it was pointless anyway; there was no one out here for miles and probably the only other roadtrippers along this highway — Foggy and Karen — were ahead of you.

After being careful to not touch the toilet seat and then flushed with the toe of your shoe, you washed up, trying to flatten your hair and examining the dark circles under your eyes.

And then you tried to open the lock. It was so rusted that it took a few moments for it to even budge, and then, with a dusty snap, the lever broke right off and fell on the floor, leaving the door still locked.

For a moment, you just stared mutely at the broken lock. This is the nice, big cherry on top of today. Then you tried the door; it was still most definitely locked, and now there was no way to unlock it.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," you muttered, prodding at the broken part with your finger. Stuck in a gas station bathroom, of course that's what had to happen to you. You wished you'd purchased a water before using the restroom because the prospect of not having water was suddenly making your throat parched.

The cashier, you remembered, had earbuds in, so hollering at him through the wall probably wasn't going to get you anywhere. Still, you rapped loudly on the side of the bathroom wall — hurting your knuckles on it in the process; it was made of cement — and shouted that the lock had broken.

It was to no avail. The cashier didn't show up to help.

What was worse was knowing that Matt could probably "see" everything with his damn echolocation. You didn't doubt that he knew exactly what was happening, from the way you were currently trying to pick at the lock with your bobby pin to the way that your heart was indubitably racing.

And that asshole hasn't bothered coming out to help me. You gritted your teeth and glanced at the tiny awning window in the top left corner of the bathroom, above the toilet.

Well, it would have to do.

You climbed on top of the toilet and reached upwards to unlock the window. It was easy enough to reach, despite the tall ceilings of the gas station, though hoisting yourself through there would be a different question. It wasn't like you spent your nights doing gymnastic feats all around Hell's Kitchen like someone else that you knew.

Who was currently still minding his own business, sitting in the car.

You finally knocked out the screen on the window and struggled to lift yourself up enough that your head could poke through. It was a tight fit, but you could make it.

Now, the only issue was actually getting down safely. You realized, looking down at the pavement below, that it was much higher than you realized. It wasn't as though you had taken any stairs to get into the bathroom, but coming out of a window head-first was a much different story than if you could have gotten out feet-first.

Resolutely you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialed Matt's number.

"Hello?" he said, picking up on the seventh ring.

"You took your damn time answering."

"What do you want?"

"What do you think, Matt? I'm sure you're enjoying this little spectacle of myself that I'm making right now in the world-on-fire."

"Actually, believe it or not, I'm trying to ignore you as much as I can."

You took a deep breath. "I need your help."

"I figured."

You waited. There was only silence. Damn you, Matt. "I mean... can you please help me?"

There was the background noise of the car door opening. "If it gets us home quicker."

It was even more humiliating than you could have predicted when Matt came around the corner of the gas station, tapping his white cane along the pavement until he was no longer within the view of the parking lot or the windows of the building. You wriggled through the window a bit more, so that now your entire top half was practically dangling out of the window, and waited for Matt to line himself up below you.

Only then did you realize he was smirking.

"Are you laughing?" you demanded.

Matt's smile flattened out. "No."

"You were!"

"Maybe. Cut me some slack. You're having to evacuate a gas station bathroom through a narrow window."

"Well, catch me," you said, petulant. "Okay?"

"Ready."

"You're sure? You won't drop me?"

"As tempting as it sounds, no."

You released your grip on the window and dropped out, and true to his word, Matt grabbed you before you could faceplant into the pavement, helping you get upright and brushing some of the dust off of your shoulder.

You would have simply walked away, and gone back into the gas station — because you couldn't allow yourself to get comfortable in his grip, not when he didn't want to touch you, not when you were in a fight, and especially not when you weren't sure you meant anything to him anymore — but he didn't let go.

"Y/N," Matt said, so quietly that your heart flip-flopped. "Y/N, I love you. I love you more than anything and it kills me to not be with you every day."

That was all you needed. You opened your mouth, to respond I love you, too, but he jammed his mouth against yours, kissing you so passionately that you made a small sound of surprise. His hands lowered to your waist and he lifted you up; you wrapped your legs around him tightly and soaked in everything about him — the way his hair felt on your forehead, the press of his chest against your body, the strength of his hands on your back.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you whispered, sliding back down him and landing on the pavement. "I shouldn't have put you through what I did. I would've been pissed too if I were in your position."

"Are you kidding me? You're the bravest girl I've ever met. No one else would have come for me like you did. And I should have respected that. Instead I made you feel like shit about it." Matt's hand traced your jaw. "Can you forgive me?"

"I already have," you admitted.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"I know," you said, and then you laughed shakily. "I guess we'll have to award Karen and Foggy certificates in therapy, then?"

"They'll never let us live it down," he confirmed, and his smile, that look of contentedness and the way that he kept his hand on you at all times as though afraid to lose you, was what told you that everything would be alright.

After all, it was Matt.

[willshipanything-blog]

Rules of the Game- Chapter 13

Been a little time! Next chapter for your reading pleasure.

Previous chapters found in the index here

Also on AO3 here

Cute chapter incoming (or as cute as a captor and his captive can be...)

Minors DNI, yadda yadda...

Chapter 13- Breakfast

A prickling sensation on your ass woke you from an unsettled sleep. You had badly needed the rest after last night’s exertions, but the encroaching winter weather in the basement, paired with the scanty outfit provided to you did little to ensure an adequate night’s sleep. Your butt had been numb and uncomfortable all night, forcing you to sleep on your stomach, but it was a different feeling down there which awoke you. You knew it was him.

“Morning.” You sighed wearily, turning your head to face the side of the basement with the small window. The glass panel behind the grate looked slightly frosted, but a bright winter sun was streaming pale light into the room. 

“Morning dove,” his amiable voice replied, fingers still fondling your backside “And how’s my naughty little thing feeling this fine morning?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, rotating your upper body better to see the Grabber. He was donning the full artificial grin today- clearly happy with your performance last night, then. 

“I’m-” You wondered how best to answer. You were tired, cold and aching. You didn’t want to lie to him (he would know if you were, after all), so chose what you thought might be the best option of those three. “I’m sore.”

He let out a throaty chuckle, gripping your raw cheeks a little harder over your underwear. You gritted your teeth, rolling back on your stomach and pressing your forehead into the mattress to try and trick your mind into curtailing the burning pain. 

“I’m not surprised,” he slid the band of the shorts down, gliding them softly over your buttocks, “But you took the pain so well last night, dove. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.” You spoke plainly. There was no point being dishonest. He knew you had enjoyed it, even if it had hurt. You had found you had embraced some of Al’s more vicious urges, just as he said you would. The paradox of pain and pleasure had overcome you. You lay there whilst Al continued to massage your behind, and only once he had had his fill and pulled your shorts back up did you start to rise from the mattress.

You noticed Al hadn’t brought down the usual breakfast tray- was he withholding food after he had provoked you to break the dishes from your last meal? You didn’t question this choice, but walked toward him: he had held out his hand as you rose, awaiting you to take it. As you clasped hands, he rubbed his thumb over each of your delicate fingers in turn, and you looked into his cerulean eyes. 

“Do I get a morning kiss?” You faltered at the question. He had been so distant after he had first kissed you, but now he was actively seeking it out. You hesitated for only a moment, wondering how this would work, but still stood on your tiptoes to plant a quick peck on the plastic grin of the mask. He wouldn't have felt your soft kiss, but perhaps he just wanted to ensure your compliance, your complete fidelity to him. He squeezed your hand in his, reassuring you had made the right move.

Standing half-naked in your cell, you shivered involuntarily, hoping he wouldn't mistake your chill for fear (you weren't afraid). He didn't:

"Are you cold, Y/N?" His voice sounded more impish than truly concerned.

"Yes, Al." If you were more sincere, you hoped he might perhaps take your condition more seriously. You still didn't have him fully worked out, because you were wrong again.

"Hm, yes, I can see that." The hand not clasped around your own moved towards your body, flicking a hardened nipple through your thin shirt, conspicuously poking through the material in the frigid room. 

A scowl was your only response. You thought this was supposed to be time for kindness, after his deviant inflictions last night. Surely he couldn't be so blasé about your health, keeping you for- (weeks at this point?) -only to let you freeze to death in the dank basement. He did promise to take care of you after all. 

"Come on then." He spoke brightly, his sing-song voice returned. You'd grown accustomed to the fluctuations of mood and voice, though no less frustrated by it. You wondered if it was tiring for Al to keep up the performance. You were literally yanked away from these thoughts as he hauled you up the stairs.

The enticing smell of breakfast hit you before you'd made it to the kitchen, and your stomach growled, reminding you of how hungry you were. Entering the room, Al flourished his open arm, presenting a table of juice, toast, bacon and (unsurprisingly) eggs. 

"Oh!" You audibly gasped at the display. Overwhelmed by the surprise, you stumbled over what to say, but tightened your grip on Al's hand in gratitude. You thought you might cry at the smell of it, the thought that Al had prepared this for you. As much as you liked bacon, you weren't sure it warranted tears, and laughed at this thought.

"You know, it'll taste better than it looks, why don't you sit down dove?"

Happy in the knowledge you weren't going to have to kneel to eat this morning, you still glanced warily at the two wooden stools propped under the breakfast bar. They looked solid, and the thought of sitting on them with the current state of your bruised buttocks did not fill you with confidence.

"Um, Al… could I please have a pillow or something to sit on?” You were nervous about how many favors he might grant this morning, but he giggled and gestured to the living room. 

“Just grab one from the couch, I’ll put the coffee on.” Coffee! Just when you thought breakfast wasn’t going to get any better! 

You walked around to the lounge, barely glancing at the door you knew to be locked. No need to remind yourself of that failed escape and what had followed. The room was bathed in an orange glow, morning light filtering through thin drawn curtains. Grabbing a small pillow from a nearby armchair, you noticed a wooden photo frame on a low end table beside it. You hadn’t seen any other possessions of Al’s that you might have called ‘personal’, so you bent down a little, lifting the frame off the table for a closer look. It was an old black and white photo, and pretty grainy. You could make out two figures standing in the backyard of a house. There were two boys in the picture, the older maybe around 16, wearing a serious expression, and the other a kid of about 6 or 7 you’d guess, posing with a wide goofy smile. Even through the monochrome photograph, the piercing eyes of the older boy glared right at you. It was Al. As if on cue, a stern voice from the next room over scolded you.

“Y/N, what’s taking so long?” The question was laced with annoyance at your obvious dawdling. You put the frame down quickly with a clatter, and hurried back to the kitchen. You’d ask about the younger boy another day. 

He’d removed his lower mask and was sitting at the table with arms folded. Please, please don’t be mad now. You were too hungry to be sent back downstairs without breakfast. However, your fears were allayed; as you approached the table he smiled, and you smiled in return. You placed the pillow on the stool before sitting very, very slowly. It hurt but you inhaled deeply to try and calm yourself and not make any pained noises. You didn’t want to spoil what was obviously a treat Al had given you, a first shared meal.

He served you both, plying your plate with crispy bacon slices, buttery toast and scrambled egg, though you understandably picked around most of the egg. The aroma of the brewing coffee and the salt and grease of the food was heavenly, and you had to suppress literal moans as you ate. You even felt giddy that Al had supplied you with a fork. You worked out (probably as he had) that jamming it into his thigh likely wouldn’t end well for you. 

You ate in silence, save for Al leaving to get you both a cup of freshly brewed coffee which you heartily thanked him for. You usually napped during the day while Al was gone; if the coffee kept you buzzed all day, you’d run out of things to do. This didn’t stop you from chugging the whole delicious cup down. Al ate relatively little, choosing to spend most of the meal watching you, replenishing your plate with food until you couldn’t eat any more. 

You pushed your plate away to indicate you were done. Al didn’t move a muscle. Your turn for small talk then.

“So, what now?” You drummed your fingers nervously on the table.

“Well, I have some time before work,” -You felt yourself blush, thinking about how Al wanted to spend that time, and he must have known what you were thinking- “for talking, little dove. If I start to undress you right here, I’d be here all morning enjoying myself.” He leaned across the table to place a hand on yours. 

“If I was late, my boss wouldn’t be too pleased- even if you were.” His eyes glinted in the morning light, and you found yourself genuinely giggling at his teasing.

“Anyway dove, you said the other day you wanted to talk, and I brushed you off. If we’re living together, we should talk more, don’t you think? Get to know each other a little better.” 

You wish you hadn’t eaten so much, because that comment made your stomach feel queasy- living together. You were being kept here, this wasn’t your house. Maybe if you started to see this as a new living situation, living with Al rather than being his captive, it might help lessen the feeling of entrapment, make you feel a little more normal, not that normal really meant much these days. 

You nodded, and your curiosity about him prompted you to ask him a question before he could next speak. 

“What do you do Al?”. He was brief, to the point, choosing not to elaborate to any great detail. The fact that he worked at a hardware store in town was all you were going to wring out of him about his work. You wondered how little he’d tell you about his family, his more personal life. 

“And what was it you did, Y/N?”

It wasn’t the question that cut you, but the tense he’d used. He’d used the word did. That part of your life was firmly in the past. You answered, though defiantly used the present tense. If you spoke about your life as something obsolete, you’d start to believe it. 

“I work at a bar downtown, the Beer Hawk,” Did he notice you speaking as if you still worked there? You thought you saw his forearm tense a little, but continued anyway. “It’s not bad, and drunk people like to tip, so it’s helping me save to go back to school.” You had never just ‘chatted’ to Al like this so casually, so it felt a little stunted. His stony silence as you spoke discouraged you. Your words felt so concrete when you first spoke them, but they became meaningless, dissolving in the air as they left your mouth. It felt like a fiction, and you guessed it was now. You finished your answer defeatedly:

“I wanted to teach kindergarten, so I volunteered at the library for work experience. I shelved books, did reading groups with little kids, you know?” Past tense. Had it taken so little action from him for you to doubt yourself? You didn’t want him to see how upset this had made you, so took the plates and got up to wash them. He seemed to flinch, but let you carry on. You cleaned the dishes in silence, sensing Al watching you as you ran the faucet and scrubbed the breakfast plates and pans. It felt nice to be doing something, even a chore so mundane as washing dishes. Your hand brushed over a knife, and a dark thrill ran through you. A small voice in your mind asked what might happen if you stole it, used it when he was least expecting it? You shook this thought away- even if you could kill him, or wound him and escape, would you? That answer felt different from what it would have been weeks ago. You determined it was far too risky. 

Wiping your hands on a dish towel, you stared ahead. The window blinds over the sink were closed too, of course, but you felt the morning sun through them, and smiled. His voice brought you back:

“You feelin’ ok dove?” He had sensed your unhappiness, but you wanted a return to the settled atmosphere. You turned to him, still holding your smile.  

“Yeah- I’m fine. Apart from my ass.” He laughed at your bawdy comment. 

“Would you pour me another cup?” he asked, holding his coffee mug in the air. You took the pot from the machine and walked back over to the table. That voice in your head returned, wondering what would happen if you were to pour scalding coffee straight into his lap. He probably knew you were thinking this too. Another test of your obedience perhaps. You wished the nagging voice inside of you would just fuck off, or else go ahead and act on one of its stupid impulses, and see where that got her. You suppressed it, and poured him another cup before sitting down again across the table from him. 

“Al, if I could ask you- you might not tell me, but- what do people think happened to me?” You weren’t sure why this question had sprung from your mind. You could have asked about your family, or Al’s. You had started to accept that Al was going to keep you here, and wondered if others knew what had really happened, even if there was no hope of them finding you. 

He appeared comfortable to talk about it, which surprised you. When you had asked about Griffin weeks ago, he had outright denied that it was him. Still, he was quite detailed in his explanations. Of course he was going to keep on top of any news about all this. 

“Well, a few sources think you’re a runaway, Y/N, though most believe you’re dead already. Dumped along a highway or in a river somewhere.” How could he be so casual talking about this right to your face? You realized, feeling stupid- he has taken, he has killed. Ironically, you had forgotten that you were trying to forget these facts.

You pried a little more. 

“Does nobody think the Grabber took me?” You found that you hadn’t wanted to equate Al with the Grabber, keeping his name from any wrongdoing. Well, you’re really losing it, Y/N. 

“There was some speculation, a few news articles about the possibility, though you’re not his M.O now, are you?” Jesus, even Al was speaking as though the grabber were someone else. You were both complicit in this lie, this avoidance of reality. He continued.

“Anyway, people are starting to think the Grabber has moved on, because the kidnappings have stopped.”

“Have they?” 

“That depends on you now, doesn’t it dove?” His voice was laced with menace. 

There it was. Another way he was guilting you into staying. He didn’t even need his locked doors or brute strength- he had this burden over your head. Without you, others would be taken, and those deaths would be on you, not on the psychotic creature who actually kidnaps and kills these children. 

“Then the Grabber has stopped the kidnappings.” You said it with conviction, a finality. Making clear your intentions of staying, following the rules. You half-wished you hadn’t asked the question, but you were glad you had told him you were here to stay, without actually telling Al that you wanted to. You saw the familiar crooked smile break on Al’s face. He had worked out your meaning. 

While he was in this mood, you pushed for another privilege that morning. 

“If there’s time, could I get a shower? Please Al?” You asked in your own version of Al’s sing-song tone and gave him your best doe-eyed look, hoping he’d be pliable to your request. You felt a little uneasy flirting with him so brazenly, but you thought a warm shower might soothe your aching butt, and you were decidedly… sticky from last night’s dalliance. 

“Well, normally I’d prefer if you waited for me to join you in there,” he said playfully. You smiled, showing your willingness to do so, and found yourself genuinely giddy at the thought. 

“Can you be quick?” he asked. You nodded, and he led you to the bathroom just a little down the hall from the living room.

Al turned the knob on the shower, feeling the water temperature as you undressed beside him in the small space. Once happy, he shook his wet hand to dry it off and gestured with his head towards the tub, signaling that it was ready for you. Before stepping in, he took your wrist and gave you clear instructions. 

“I’ll be back soon. Do not leave this room, and do not close the door.” 

“Yes, Al.” You replied. He hadn’t asked a question, though you wanted to show your gratitude for the favor. You stepped into the tub tentatively, but the water temperature was perfect. You stood under the hot shower, feeling days of grime and sweat and yours and Al’s own body fluids running off your skin. Without a shower curtain for privacy, you saw that Al had stayed behind for a minute to watch. It was probably to make sure you were really going to wash and not snoop around like last time, though a part of you could sense his eyes trailing your back, your thighs, your backside, purpling with the start of several large bruises. You expected his gaze. You sensed it. You yearned for it. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw his dark shadow leaving, and you busied yourself, scrubbing your whole body, choosing also to wash your greasy hair (although just the thought of being in the cold cellar with damp hair made the shower seem to cool a few degrees). You finished up, though with no towel in sight you waited for Al under the warm spray. When he returned carrying an armful of items, you promptly turned off the water and stepped out, walking into the towel in his open arms. He held you for just a moment before letting you dry off. 

He held out another of his shirts, black and silky with buttons, and guided your arms into it. He buttoned it up for you, just lightly brushing your breasts as he went up. 

“Turn around, sweet thing.” You did so without objection. A sudden cold sensation hit you and you jerked away from his touch with a screech.

“It’s just cream.” He cooed at you, letting out a huff of amusement.

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting it to be so cold!” You’d realized he was putting cream on your bruised asscheeks, and moved back to his touch. You remembered the first time he’d done something similar, rubbing ointment on your back. You also remembered what he’d said about this, and echoed it now.

“The sooner they heal, the sooner you can inflict them again.”

“Very good girl, Y/N.” He continued to rub soft circles of the lotion on you.

Once done, you turned and stepped into the underwear he held down for you, realizing it was your own pair of panties. It can’t have taken weeks for him to wash them- you thought about how he must have kept them to himself, and all sorts of images floated through your brain. You were snapped out of your reverie by Al.

“Time for me to go to work.” You nodded, and instinctively began your journey back to your familiar cell, Al lightly guiding you with his hand at the small of your back. You walked in silence, both knowing to stop on the bottom step just in front of the metal door. You turned and looked at him, and he cupped your face, the intimate brush on your scarred cheek a reassuring, constant gesture of his promise to take care of you. 

“Have a nice day at work, Al. See you tonight.” He simply smiled, an earnest grin free from malice, and leant to kiss you. You stretched up and returned the kiss. It was brief and soft. You walked into the basement and the door closed softly behind you. Thud, click- it locked.

You leaned sideways on the door, thinking about the morning spent together. You’d learned a lot about your own disappearance, seen more of the house, even glimpsed a small sliver into Al’s life. Did you see breakfast as a reconnaissance task, gathering intel to be used later, to escape, attack or persuade Al in some way? Or was it just a pleasant morning spent in his company?

A confused sigh echoed in the chilly air, and you turned back towards the mattress. Folded neatly at the bottom of it was a blanket, with a small pillow on top- the one you’d sat on at breakfast. He must have left it as a surprise while you were showering. He did care after all. Rushing to pick them up excitedly, something slid out from the folds of the blanket, falling with a thud on the stone floor. A book. You bent to inspect it. It was your book, from your bag when Al had…when you had first come here. He was always the most kind after a night of naughty girl, and you couldn’t help but smile. You unashamedly looked forward to the next installment of the game, though whether the night or the morning after was more preferable you couldn’t quite say.

Driving to work that morning, Al couldn’t help but smile. It all felt so right. Last night, he knew his little thing had loved the game, the pleasure and pain in almost equal measure. And this morning had been almost flawless, it had felt so comfortable, pieces of a jigsaw slotting together perfectly to create a picture of the life he could have with Y/N. It was by no means normal, but Al chuckled to himself- he didn’t want normal, he wanted his little dove to be his perfect little secret forever. She can’t possibly trust him, and Al wonders pensively if she ever will. He hopes so, one day at least. He has all the time in the world.

[morganaspendragonss]

with every heartbeat i have left

thanks to @aliceschuyler and @typicaltk for the beta!

title from light by sleeping at last

five times gwyn was there for tk when he was hurting, and one time she couldn't be

ao3 | 3.3k | hurt/comfort, references to addiction, references to parental death

i.

Her son is born in the middle of a snowy December afternoon a month before his due date. She was supposed to have an important meeting that day, but all her plans went out the window as her son made it clear that he wanted out, and he wanted out now.

Owen was in the middle of a double shift and not picking up his phone, and Gwyn had begun to do the one thing her meticulous birth plan was supposed to prevent—she panicked.

But life, as they say, finds a way, and soon enough Gwyn is holding a tiny, pink-skinned bundle in her arms, his lips parted adorably as he sleeps. Owen has gone out for some food, having not had a chance to eat at the firehouse, and she’s alone with Tyler. It’s the first truly quiet moment she feels like they’ve had since her water broke a few hours ago, and she just wants to savour it.

Then Tyler starts to cry.

His wails break Gwyn’s heart and she would do anything for them to stop. She would do anything for him, because he may only be a few hours old, but he’s already stamped himself firmly onto her heart.

She acts on instinct as she cradles him and rocks him, not even thinking about it as the words of the Elohai Neshama flow from her lips. Soon, Tyler’s cries die down into whimpers, which then die down into nothing as he blinks up at her, and suddenly it’s her own tears that Gwyn is fighting to stop.

“My sweet boy,” she whispers, ghosting her thumb over his soft cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you.”

ii.

Owen’s gone again, as he has been every night this week, and Gwyn wants to scream as she has to cancel a business meeting for the second time. It’s not— She knows how badly Owen’s had it ever since the Towers and she’s done her best to support him, but he just keeps running, hiding himself in other people’s problems and other people’s families.

Maybe it makes her a bad person to resent him for it.

But Owen’s not the one trying to balance a law firm breathing down his neck, a grieving husband, a traumatised seven year old, and keeping his own grief and fear hidden so that said husband and child don’t notice.

Sometimes it feels like Owen’s not even trying.

Gwyn grits her teeth and balls her hands into fists on the counter. She can’t do this.

“Mom?”

She has to do this.

“Hi, honey,” she says, plastering on a smile as she turns to face her son. One of TK’s action figures is dangling from his hand and his brow is creased in a frown as he notices Owen’s absence, and all Gwyn wants to do is to smooth it away.

“Is Dad coming back for dinner?”

No seven year old should have to look so sad; she resents Owen for this, too. “No, it’s just going to be you and me tonight.”

“It’s like that every night.”

“He’ll—” Gwyn cuts herself off, the promise dying on her lips. She wants to tell TK that Owen will be here tomorrow, she wants to say that he’ll walk through the door any minute, that things will go back to the way they were before. But she can’t lie to her son.

Instead, she drops her mouth open in mock offence and puts her hands on her lips. “Is my company suddenly not good enough for you?”

TK giggles and shakes his head. There’s still a sadness in his gaze though, so Gwyn walks over and crouches to his level, stroking his cheek. There’s one thing that’s a guarantee to cheer her son up, and she’s pretty sure that she could do with it, too.

“How about Chinese?”

iii.

“Tyler Kennedy, you get back here right now!”

Her only answer is the slamming of TK’s bedroom door, hard enough to rattle the dishes in the kitchen. She has half a mind to go right in after him and continue the argument, but Gwyn is one of the best lawyers in New York for a reason; she knows doing that will come to nothing.

Besides, TK is her and Owen’s son. Backing down from a fight isn’t in their blood, and you don’t hope to put out a fire with more fire.

Instead, she makes a call to Spring Street, then settles in to finish the work she was doing before TK blew into the apartment like a storm. Not that she actually gets much done; she just ends up staring in the direction of TK’s room, chin in hand. This is the first time she’s seen him all week and Owen had warned her that he’d been moody, though he’d written it off as teenage angst.

Gwyn isn’t so sure.

She’s seen TK’s teenage angst—remembers it vividly, in fact—and this is different. This isn’t the TK who gets annoyed when he’s asked to tidy his room or the TK who swears he hates them for the divorce. It’s something else, but Gwyn can’t put her finger on what.

TK’s been different for a while now. Maybe it’s something she should have been expecting; he’s no longer the sweet boy she used to push on the swings and sing to sleep. He’s seventeen, growing up far too fast for Gwyn’s liking, and snapping at the heels of independence.

But Gwyn has to wonder what else he’s chasing down like his life depends on it.

The ringing of the doorbell startles her out of her thoughts. Food in hand, she approaches TK’s door and knocks gently.

“I come in peace,” she calls, though she receives no response. Figuring the absence of an outright rejection is enough, she pushes the door open and peeks inside. It’s dark, but she can just about make out TK’s figure curled up on the bed, back to the door, unmoving, but clearly not sleeping.

She takes a step further into the room and TK shifts.

“Are those spring rolls?”

Gwyn laughs and takes that as her invitation to move to the bed. She sits down and pats TK’s leg, setting the bag of takeout by her feet.

“They might be,” she says. “But if you want them, you’re going to have to talk to me first.”

TK snorts and rolls back away from her. “That doesn’t work on me anymore, Mom.”

“Mmm, sure. How about you get to pick the movie tomorrow?”

“Seriously?” The eye roll is audible, but there’s laughter in his tone, and Gwyn knows she’s winning him over. Eventually, TK sighs and pushes himself up so that he’s sitting cross-legged next to her, looking down at his lap. “Conor broke up with me.”

“Oh, honey.” Gwyn reaches up and runs her fingers through TK’s hair, and for once he doesn’t bat her away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “You and Dad hated him; you’re probably jumping for joy right now.”

Gwyn arches a brow at him. “Do you see me jumping?”

And, okay, TK’s not entirely wrong. Gwyn doesn’t like Conor. He’s a couple years older than TK and she knows they’ve been out drinking together multiple times before. And that’s not… Gwyn knows that kids go out and get drunk. She did it when she was seventeen. It’s just, TK seems to worship the ground Conor walks on and she was worried about the path he was leading him down.

But he was also TK’s first serious relationship, and Gwyn’s son loves with all his heart.

“This isn’t about how I feel,” she says. “It’s about you, and how you don’t deserve to have your heart broken like that.”

TK sends her a wan smile and leans briefly into her touch. “Does this mean I can have the spring rolls now?”

Gwyn laughs and makes a show of handing the bag to him, shaking her head as he digs into the food with an almost inhuman eagerness.

She wishes all problems could be solved this easily.

iv.

Thirty days after leaving California, Gwyn steps off the plane again.

She’s not sure if she’s more or less nervous than the last time she was here; thirty days ago, she had still been reeling from finding TK in that place, and she’d only gotten through it by having a single-minded focus on getting him here. Now, she has to face up to the reality of her son, who has just been through withdrawal and rehab alone for an entire month.

For a moment, she feels like a bad mother for it, for leaving him in another state, surrounded by strangers. But the memory of kneeling on a dirty floor, trying desperately to rouse him, to keep him with her, is still too raw, and Gwyn knows she made the only choice she could.

No; she’s not a bad mother for bringing TK to California.

But maybe she is for the rest of it.

Because addiction doesn’t start with the hard stuff, does it? Or, at least, that’s what she’s read. She’s been reading a lot lately, about…well, about everything she can think of, really, anything that she thinks might help her understand her son and how they managed to get to this point.

It’s helped, and it hasn’t.

Mostly, it just makes her sad.

When she sees TK for the first time in thirty days, Gwyn has to hold back her tears just like she did in the airport before he left. He looks… He’s still thin, still pale, still obviously not 100%, but he’s better.

He looks, almost, like her son again. There’s a light in his eyes that she’s been missing for so long and the smile that appears when he spots her is blinding compared to the attempts from the past few months.

Gwyn’s no fool; she knows there’s still a very long road ahead of them. She knows this addiction is something TK will be dealing with for the rest of his life, and she knows there will probably be setbacks and speed bumps along the way.

But she finally feels like she’s getting her boy back, or at least starting to.

TK seems happy all the way up to check-in at the airport, when he suddenly freezes up and starts chewing on his lip, an anxious habit he’s had ever since he was a toddler.

“TK?” she asks, placing a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” TK blinks rapidly, then meets her gaze, and Gwyn is shocked to see the panic in his eyes. “Mom, I can’t go back.”

She frowns at him, wondering if this is some kind of messed up joke, but the look on TK’s face is very, very real. And that… Well, Gwyn had expected the fight to get TK here, but she hadn’t expected one coming back.

“What do you mean?”

TK shifts on his feet, tugging at his shirt sleeves. “I can’t go back,” he repeats. “The guys…everyone at work… They all know now, right? They all know that I’m…that I… I can’t go back.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Gwyn doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they already knew. TK may not have missed any shifts or turned up late, but the evidence of his addiction had been painted all over his body; she knows this because she’d talked to them before she went out to find TK in Queens.

Knowing this will only make TK feel worse though, which is something Gwyn has to avoid at all costs.

“They do,” she says, because that, at least, can’t be hidden. “But it’s going to be okay. You know them; you know they’ll support you.”

TK shakes his head violently. “They’ll never trust me again.”

“Of course they will.”

“No! Some of them already think I only have my job because of Dad, what do you think will happen now that I’m an addict too? They won’t trust me or him. Mom, I—I have to be a firefighter, it’s all I have.” TK’s voice cracks, and even though he’s long since beaten her in height, all Gwyn wants to do is hold him like she used to when he was little.

She sees so much of Owen in this boy, and it frightens her.

“TK, listen to me,” she says firmly, putting a hand on his cheek. “You are so much more than that. You are more than an addict, and you are more than a firefighter, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Besides, all you need to worry about is healing. I spoke to your dad, he says that the department has suspended you for right now anyway.”

“Suspended?” TK’s eyes widen in anguish and he looks at her pleadingly. “For how long?”

Gwyn shakes her head. “I don’t know. Honey, I know you didn’t mean it—everyone knows you didn’t mean it—but doing what you did put people in danger. They had to suspend you. Listen, going to rehab voluntarily will have helped your case, and this time, so will going along with what they want and not fighting it. You’ll get your job back, but you have to show them you’re better first. Okay?”

TK looks down at the ground and his throat bobs as they stand in silence for a moment. But, eventually, he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She smiles at him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She can tell by the look on TK’s face that he doesn’t believe her.

But that’s alright, because Gwyn believes enough for the both of them.

v.

“How are you really doing, TK?”

TK has always been Gwyn’s miracle. No matter what life has thrown at him, he’s always managed to get back on his feet, and the fact that she’s even looking at him right now is proof of that.

It’s a surreal feeling, to know that her son was on the brink of death while she was just living her life.

She’d seen the ice storm on the news and she’d managed a conversation with TK before all the cell towers went down. He’d sounded okay then, happy, even, though Gwyn had been able to detect the sadness underneath it all.

Not that it had been difficult; a broken heart is the one hurt TK has never been able to hide.

So she hadn’t found out about TK’s accident until afterwards: after the snow had melted and service came back; after he’d had one foot in the grave and yet still managed to haul himself out.

Looking at him now, Gwyn finds it hard to believe that, not too long ago, everyone in this room had believed he was going to die.

But there are traces.

It’s in the way TK’s hands sometimes shake, the way he’s a little bit winded when he hands Jonah back to her.

It’s in the way Carlos has practically been glued to his side all day and how he’d fussed more than usual to make sure TK was okay.

It’s in the words Tommy had said when Gwyn had asked her to tell her everything Owen hadn’t.

Above all, though, it’s in the way Gwyn looks at TK, and sees a different person.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, smiling gently at her. “I’m…better.”

“Considering you were in a hospital bed a few weeks ago, you’ll forgive me if I ask for more details.” Her tone is dry, but the sentiment is very real; she can’t quite get past the fact that she was on the verge of losing her son.

TK chuckles, but he sobers quickly, glancing around the firehouse like he can’t believe he’s here either. “I am okay, Mom,” he promises, then hesitates and sighs. When he speaks again, he’s much quieter, much more subdued. “But this time really scared me.”

The fact that there’s other times to compare it to is heart-breaking in itself, but Gwyn keeps smiling, waiting for TK to continue.

“It wasn’t… I wasn’t scared at the time. I don’t really remember much about the accident, and then when I was in the coma… The truth is, I was ready. I didn’t want to die, but I kind of felt like I didn’t have a whole lot to come back to either, not with Carlos and the 126 and Dad all gone. And, you know, I was in this dream, and for a while it was so good—it was perfect—and I didn’t really want to leave.”

Gwyn swallows down the tears building in her throat and asks, “What changed your mind?”

TK’s eyes seek Carlos out in the crowd and he smiles softly, as he always does when he looks at him. “Some of it was Carlos. I could hear him talking to me, and knowing that he was there even though I broke his heart gave me hope, I guess. And, if nothing else, I knew I needed to apologise so we could both have a shot at closure.”

Then TK turns and his eyes meet Gwyn’s with a shocking intensity. “But a lot of it was you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“You were with me in the dream,” he clarifies, smiling almost wistfully. “We were making cookies.”

Gwyn smiles back. “We should do that for real sometime.”

“Yeah,” TK agrees. “Anyway, you kept telling me to fight and to stop dying, and you were the one who pushed me to wake up. I… I don’t know if I would have if you hadn’t been there. You saved me, Mom.”

TK’s eyes are tearing up, Gwyn’s too, and she immediately lunges forward to pull him into a hug. “Oh, my sweet boy,” she whispers, holding on tight. “I always will. I’ll always be here for you.”

+1.

There are flowers on the sidewalk where it happened. They’re old, the petals starting to fall off, and pretty soon they’ll be cleaned away.

And that’ll be it.

There’ll be nothing more to say that a woman died on this corner, that this is where two boys lost their mother and two men lost their love. The blood has been cleaned up, the flowers are starting to turn grey, and even as TK stands here, cyclists are zipping past him, none of them any the wiser.

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He guesses… He just needed to see it. The place where Gwyneth Morgan lost her life.

“Do you think she could have saved herself?”

Carlos, who has been holding TK’s hand tight as silent support, turns to look at him, his brow raised in questioning.

TK shrugs and sighs. “She was able to push Jonah out the way. Maybe she could have saved herself. And I don’t—” He stops and takes a breath, blinking against the sudden tears. “I don’t blame her for doing what she did. I’m really glad Jonah is okay. I just can’t stop wondering.”

Carlos squeezes his hand and tugs him closer. “I guess she had to make a choice.”

“But what if she didn’t?” TK persists, turning his body towards his boyfriend. “What if she only thought she did? What if—”

“Babe.” Carlos cups TK’s face with his free hand, meeting his gaze. “You and I both know that you’ll drive yourself crazy thinking about the what ifs. Your mom did the only thing she could think to do, and we just need to accept that what happened, happened. I know it’s hard.” He pulls TK into his chest and TK buries his nose in the lapel of Carlos’s coat as the tears start to flow. “I know it’s hard. But you’ll be okay, I promise.”

TK sobs. “I just want to talk to her.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”

“I know. But, hey”—Carlos pulls away and swipes his thumbs under TK’s eyes—“I’m going to be right here with you every step of the way. I promise.”

In the wake of everything, it’s a promise Carlos probably shouldn’t make. It’s certainly a promise TK shouldn’t believe in.

But if there’s been one solid thing in TK’s life lately, it’s Carlos.

So TK takes that promise, and he holds onto it with all he has.

[chimtaesty]

broken souls (pjm!hybrid au)

plot :Helping hybrids is your passion, as a local hybrid center calls you for help because of a abused and broken panther hybrid you pack your stuff and hurry to put him back together.

warnings: death, abuse | 4.9k words

a/n: hi there, it’s been a while huh? I’m finally back and better than ever. I released two stories lately which seemed like a fever dream so i won’t continue them but i hope you are ready to keep supporting my stuff :) I hope you like this story since i spent a lot of time and thoughts on it :)

masterlist

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Am i talking to Y/N?”

“Yes you are, who is this?” 

“Oh, i’m sorry for not introducing myself, my name is Helen Wallis and I'm the Head of the Hybrid Rehabilitation Center Crystal Snow. I’m calling because we take care of a very delicate case at the moment, the issue is that we don’t know how to take further care of this poor soul and I heard that you are an amazing psychologist student who even helped the Seong-girl out of her cruel thoughts. If you could maybe take your time to take a look at this broken boy we would all be really thankful.”

To be honest, this girl didn’t take a lot of work. She was spoiled and upset because a boy in her school rejected her. The only reason this became a big thing was because the parents are influential people. But you would love to help someone who needed your help so you didn’t have another choice.

“I would gladly take a look at him, if you could send me his file.”

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you a lot Y/N, your help means a lot”

You’ve looked at the same three sheets of paper for the last two hours and you can’t believe what’s printed on it. The sentences make you angry and give you the feeling of having to throw up. He was raised on a local farm which turned out to be an underground fighting ring. He had to take drugs. He was raped and had to watch his mum getting killed, the only person on this planet who he loved. He has lost someone just like you, you may be able to connect with him faster than with Seong Hye-Jin.

The speed of your heart beating decreases as you pack the papers back into your bag. The bus rumbles and your stop arrives faster as you expected it to. The building looks nice, it has  a big blue sign on top that says “Crystal Snow Rehabilitation Center”. It’s a short walk across the street to the entrance. As you walk towards the front desk a chubbier in white dressed older lady walks towards you. “You must be Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you. I called you earlier this week” you nod and shake her hand. “Yes, I tried to prepare myself as well as possible, but i’m not sure if he is going to welcome my help. I would say we just give it a try.”

The walk to Jimin’s room is long, there are a lot of doors, hallways and two elevators involved. Before Helen opens the door she turns around and clasps your hands in hers. “I need you to be careful. I couldn’t forgive myself if he hurt you. If something goes south please shout immediately, security is right outside this door. God may bless you” she whispers the last sentence as she turns the key and the door opens. You smile at Helen and take a step in. You never thought much about god or christianity, it’s all a hoax. Where was god when you needed him? 

“Please leave the door open until I say otherwise” you whisper towards Helen and she nods. As you take a look inside the tiny room you are reminded of your bedroom at your parents house. It was tiny but cozy, Jimin might feel the same.

There he is, laying on his bed facing the window. “Hi there, Jimin. My name is Y/N, I would like to talk to you. Is that fine with you?” He doesn’t say anything nor does he move. He’s not ignoring you though, he’s listening very well. “Should i leave the door open?” you ask silently and he doesn’t answer, he turns around to look at you. A thing catches your attention immediately, the big scar across his left eye.

He nods and you nod back not saying anything. “Can i sit myself down over there or should I stay here?” you ask again to tear his attention from the open door, this is no time to do something dumb. “Stay” he whispers and you comply, he wants to keep you at a distance. The spot you’re standing at is a great place to oversee everything you do. “Alright, i’ll just sit down right here” you smile, he doesn’t reply.

As you sit there on the floor he grows more comfortable. The door is open and there is no one who pushes him to speak. You lowered yourself to the ground where he is able to look down on you. “So, Jimin. We both know why I’m here. To be quite honest, these people here don’t really care about you. It sounds harsh but that’s the truth. The only thing they are interested in is rehabilitating you and getting you out of here. They want you to move on and live normally but let’s be real for a second, that’s impossible.” His head snaps upwards to look at you.

“Everyone tells you how great life is and how badly you need to move on. The problem is that after all life ever gave you, it’s hard for you to understand that optimism. Life is shit, isn’t it?” you chuckle and he nods. “I didn’t expect you to say that” his raspy voice fills the room.

You chuckle “What? That life’s shit? Well, it’s the truth.” he nods and suddenly his ears move from being stuck flat on his head to standing upwards, ready to listen to you. “You know, Jimin. I understand you. Life hasn’t been kind to me either. I might’ve not lived through something as terrific as you but it comes close. Do you want to hear it?” he nods but still keeps his head low. You know that sharing hurtful experiences can help you connect to each other. You knew almost everything about him. You know what those horrible people did to him and how he became who he is now but he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know why you are willing to sit on his floor or why the hell the door was kept open

“I had to kill my father” That catches his attention. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you.

“Two men broke into our house one night when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what was happening, I mean it was around three am and i was sleeping. My brother was dead when I arrived in the living room, they had almost decapitated him. My parents were restrained and sat up on our couch.” 

I have to breathe for a moment before I can continue. Right in that moment he locked his gaze with me for the first time. We share a quick glance.

“My mum was raped before they slit her throat and I couldn't do anything.I had to stab my dad 28 times. The only thing I remember was them telling me that everything’s my fault. I don’t know what I did nor do I know why my parents had to pay for it. But I moved on. I didn’t forget, not that I ever could forget this massacre but, I try to survive. Nothing can ever bring them back and I know that. I will never see them again and it hurts everytime i close my eyes because I see their lives leaving their bodies when I do but I try to move on. I try to live ” 

I wipe my tears and look at the floor as all the pictures come back. The blood, the bones being cracked and the lives being taken-”I’m sorry you had to go through that” he whispers and a small sniff leaves your body. “Thank you, Jimin.” you whisper back and for a moment there’s just silence. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. It’s almost as if he accepts you now, as if he knows what you feel.

“Do i have to tell you?” you shake your head with a small smile. You wouldn’t mind but every time you have to talk about it you literally relive what happened. You don’t want him to feel what you do now  “No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he nods and sighs, a big weight visually leaving his shoulders. “You can sit on the chair, the floor must be cold” you almost laugh. “I’ll gladly. Thank you, Jimin.” You sit down in front of him and he moves back slightly.

“Jimin” you whisper and his head snaps towards you “Yes?” he whispers back. His eyes softly gaze at yours “I need you to know that you’re not alone. What you had to go through is in no way forgettable and I know that you regret many things but you’re not alone. ” he just stares at you until his eyebrows furrow and his chest starts to move faster and faster. You triggered something, something bad.

“You’re lying” he whispers and his nostrils flare and his eyes stare at the floor. “You’re lying like everyone else.” He almost growls at you as you try to deny what he said. “I’m not, Jimin, listen to me!” you plead and you notice the shift. In front of you is no longer the quiet and understanding person he was two minutes ago . He shifted to what those people made him, a broken, hurt and traumatized boy who’s life is a living hell.

Now that they got him out of there he’s held captive in his mind. The horror he had to experience every day is now tormenting him inside his own head and no one seems to understand that.  His eyes grow dark and his body builds itself up and he flashes his teeth in a threatening way. He closes himself off. He’s gone, the soft understanding boy you were just talking to was somewhere crying in a corner of his mind scared of getting attached and being thrown away like garbage.

In a matter of seconds his hands find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip and you find it hard to breathe. Your pleads come out strangled as he lets out a low grunt. This situation reminds you of the night you killed your father. The men strangled you as well while you watched your mum being raped, the only difference here is that Jimin isn’t doing it out of pleasure, he’s terrified to the point where he’s alright with taking another person's life.

The two security men find their way into the room as your legs give in and you two fall to the floor, Jimin didn’t let go though. Your last attempt of staying alive needs to work so you clasp his face in between your hands. You stroke his cheek and give him a small smile. “It’s alright” His eyebrow twitches slightly and in a matter of seconds his grip around your throat loosens and your vision finds its way back to you. You cough violently after you push him behind yourself.

“Miss, please move. We need to move this farrell animal, he’s a threat” you shake your head as you move closer to Jimin “He’s not- cough -that’s why I-cough-I’m here. Pl-cough-Please move outside, thank you-cough.” They share a worried look but do as told and move to their spots outside. Your head hangs low as you try to steady your breathing.

Behind you, you can hear silent but repetitive sorry’s.

You turn around slightly, just to look at him. He now understood what he had done. You can’t blame him for what he did, he was terrified as you somehow triggered something in his brain with your reassurance. “Jimin” you breathe out and his rant of sorry’s stop. “Jimin,this isn’t your fault, okay? I’m not mad at you” You turn towards him and take his hand into yours.

“Do you hear me? I’m not mad at you” he doesn’t look at you as you talk to him. The atmosphere in his room is cold and uncomfortable. His demeanor changed, he feels sorry and you know that. He almost killed you and you’re not upset. It’s something that’s hard to understand, why would someone you hurt still like you? Simple, they are either unconditionally in love with you or know how you feel. They understand the things you went through, the pain you feel, they relate.

“How?” He whispers as his emotions get ahead of him. “I almost killed you, look at your throat” he sniffs and you can’t help but touch it. It’s sore and probably bright red but you don’t really care. “It’s fine” you answer him and he shakes his head “How can that be fine? You were nothing but nice to me and I struck you to the floor to strangle you. If that is fine to you, you’re dumb”

You nod your head “Maybe I am”. You stroke the hair out of your face and get up. “I’ll be leaving now-“It was nice meeting you Y/N, I’m sorry that I hurt you and I understand that you won’t come ba-“Oh, I’m coming back” his head snapped up to look at you. “What?” You chuckled slightly “You can’t get rid of me that easily, we are friends now, Jimin.” He just gives you a star struck expression as you’re almost outside of his room. “I’ll bring you some cake next time”

-

About a week later you again stand in front of the center. You thought a lot about how you could help Jimin and to be honest, you have no idea. The only thing that somehow connects you two is the trauma. There’s nothing that really connects you, you lived a great life until that night, you always had and always will have the privilege of being a human and not a hybrid. Jimin was born on a farm like an animal, raised like one and treated like one.

In your hands you hold the cake you promised him the last time. You open the door just to be greeted with Helen. She smiles at you and welcomes you with a warm handshake “Y/N, how nice to see. Jimin has been asking for you everyday. He told me what he has done and how you treated him. I’m glad that you didn’t run away, he really needs your help” you nod and smile at her “We had a great start actually, I’m positive that I’m able to help him.” she gives you a comforting smile before she answers you “He’s outside, by the pond” you nod and take your leave to the garden.

The garden is blooming beautifully, a lot of flowers and bushes decorate the garden in a welcoming and soft way. Other hybrids roam around the garden as well. Some play together, some stay alone just like Jimin. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the pond while he stares at the water. You clear your throat as you stand right behind him and he’s fast to turn around.

His face shifts to a soft smile as he sees you. “Y/N!” he exclaims happily. He puts his legs down and makes space for you. You thankfully take the spot next to him. The air is thick between you two and you can pinpoint exactly why. He still feels sorry for what he did and you don’t really know how to approach this matter.

“I brought you the cake I promised” you throw into the silence. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t move at all. “I thought you wouldn’t come again” he says sadly. Your head snaps towards his and your eyes lock. “Why would you think that? I told you i would come back” you give back. He shakes his head and finally glances at the cake “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” you sigh and hit his shoulder lightly. “I would never break my promise, now try the cake” you give him a fork and let him taste it.

“I didn’t bake it though, I’m terrible in the kitchen” you chuckle and he smiles “That’s fine, it’s delicious” he silently eats the cake and thanks you another two times. “How’s your throat?” he asks quietly. You unconsciously touch your throat. “It’s fine, it’s a little bit red” he nods and shoves another fork of cake into his mouth. Just then you notice a red mark on his right hand. They didn’t hit him, did they?

“Jimin, you need to be completely honest with me right now” his eyes go wide as your face grows angry. “Did they hurt you for what you did to me?” he almost chokes on his cake as you ask him that. “Did they hit you?” you ask again and he hides his hand before he tries to explain himself. “It’s not like i didn’t deserve it.” he stammers. “They are not allowed to do that, Jimin. You should’ve told me right away, I will make sure something like that never happens ever again.” he shakes his head and takes your hand into his. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You give him an angry look “It is not alright, no one should treat you like that” he smiles slightly and strokes the back of your hand.

“I’m fine” and for a moment you believe him. You forget the red mark on his hand and the scar across his eye. You forget what happened to you and what happened to him. You forget the handprints around your throat. The trees and flowers disappear as well as the pond which seems to drain into oblivion. Nothing else other than the beautiful boy in front of you seems to exist. The way his dark hair almost hides his beautiful eyes which are trying to reassure you. The way his bruised hand gently strokes yours and the way this feeling makes you want to cry. It makes your walls crumble.

“Y/N?” his voice tugs you out of your thoughts. His hand wipes a tear from your face “Why are you crying?” he asks quietly. You can’t talk, it’s like someone took your ability to speak.

“It’s alright, I sometimes cry as well.” He lets go of your hand and suddenly everything comes back. Everything is there again and it’s hard to comprehend. Why did it feel nice?

“I did horrible things, you know. You shouldn’t look at me like that” your eyebrows furrow. “Like what?” he looks up at the sky “Like you love me, my mum used to look at me like that” he gives back and you can’t move. “It’s a look that says that you would give me the universe and more if you could. It’s a look which says that you would love everything about me but you won’t, you can’t. I did things that not a single living creature should do. If you knew what i did, you wouldn’t speak to me ever again. You would look at me the same way as everyone else ever did! “ he almost shouted.

You are taken aback, what is he talking about. “Well, what did you do?” he whips around and stares at you in disbelief. “Did you just completely ignore what i said?” you shake your head and smile at him “Do you think I’m like everyone else? I stabbed my dad almost thirty times, how bad can it be?” his face grows angry and he pushes the cake to the side. “One time I was in the ring I had to kill my opponent. The bloodier it was the better, so I ripped his windpipe from his throat. Another time I broke someone's neck just to get fed. Do you even know what it feels to get praised for taking someone's life?”

Without thinking you get closer, your noses almost touched as you did. “Yes, I do know what it feels like to get praised for taking someone’s life. They praised me the whole night for killing my father and later made me bury his corpse while my raped mother had to watch all of it. After i complied with them they slit her throat and left me laying in my mother’s blood while i wanted to die. The last thing they said before leaving me was “That’s what good girls do”, so don’t tell me i don’t know what it feels like. I know how people look at someone who had to survive something like this, I know it damn well.”

For a few seconds you two just stare at each other with wide and teary eyes. The mood is tense. The only thing you can hear is Jimin’s heavy breathing and you trying to not breathe at all. A tear leaves his eye and all of a sudden his lips find their way onto yours. You can’t grasp what is happening, your lips move by themselves. Your hand finds its way onto his cheek and he grabs the back of your neck caressingly. Never has a kiss felt like this, like the whole earth could explode and you wouldn’t care as long as you were kissing him.

But the thought of you two getting caught struck your mind and you stopped.

“W-why, did you stop?” his voice was a faint whisper. He knows why but he still feels the need to ask. “It felt good,” he continues. “We can’t be seen, Jimin” his face falls and he shakes his head “I don’t care” he whispers as you get up. “But i do, if they get a whiff of what just happened i won’t be allowed to meet you anymore.” you gather your stuff as he suddenly grabs your hand to stop you “I want you to adopt me” he almost shouts. You halt in your actions while your eyes widen.

“I realised that there is no person other than you who really cares about me. There’s no one who understands what I’ve been through. Not a single person can relate to what my life has been like. When I’m with you it feels like the whole universe disappears and there’s only you, you pull me out of those cruel thoughts, you take the pain away Y/N. Please adopt me” you can’t move. That’s not how you expected this whole thing to go. Of course you like him, there’s a connection and even feelings you can’t name but, it’s wrong. The way he sees it is wrong.

He sees a saviour who might rescue him from the life he used to live. To be honest, you’re ready to be that, his saviour, but is it the right thing to do, or to be?  “Why aren’t you saying anything? Am i not good enough? Do you want me to change? I can-”No, Jimin. I-I don’t really know if that is how you really feel-”Of course that is what i really feel like, i need you Y/N” he shouts.

You step back with a small yelp escaping your mouth. His eyes soften “I’m sorry, i didn’t want to yell at you” All of sudden two men rush across the garden just to push you away from him “Stop! You’re hurting her” he shouts as you harshly fall on your butt. This is his mother’s death all over. He wasn’t able to get to her and now he’s being held back while they push you around. They grab Jimin and try to get him going but he’s too focused to get to you “Y/N!” he screams and you are fast to get up “Sir, please let go”you shout, much to your displeasure he just blows you off. They push him to the floor getting him ready to be sedated. Jimin doesn’t comply, the only thing he does is shout your name.

You throw yourself to the floor to look into his eyes. His eyes are wide and his face wet from crying “Please, Y/N don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, god please.” he pleads between broken cries. “Jimin, hey, listen to me. i’m right here! I won’t leave you” he cries and cries as he slowly drifts into a deep slumber “I need you” he whispers before he’s completely knocked out.

You once again look at the man in front of you. Is it wrong to love someone you just met? You are no psychiatrist, you have nothing to lose, do you? The only thing you desire more than helping him out of the dark space he’s in, is hold him in your arms. To wipe his tears and tell him that everything will be fine.

-

You thought a lot about him and his pleading about adoption. He would fit, no doubt. You two share one soul. The apartment you live in is hybrid friendly and there’s enough space. Yesterday you got a call from the center asking you to come in and meet Jimin again since his condition has worsened. He hasn’t eaten properly for almost a week, he doesn’t speak or move from his bed and refuses to look at anyone other than you. 

You once again stand in front of the center unsure why you are here. Are you here to end something that never happened or continue something that has potential? You don’t know. But deep down you already know the answer

Helen waits for you at the front desk. She eagerly drags you along the long way to Jimin’s room. You remember the corridors and the two elevators as if you’ve walked those corridors a million times just to get to him. She doesn’t speak since she told you everything on the phone, she just escorts you to his room.

The door opens with the jingle of the keys and your heart breaks as you look inside. He’s curled up on his bed holding the fork you brought with you last week. He looks at it as if it’s a picture, telling him a story.

“Jimin” you whisper. His head moves slightly, needing to reassure what he was hearing. “Jimin, it’s me” you say once again.

He puts himself up on his feet and looks at you. His face seems thinner and his face is puffy from crying. You don’t know how someone could hurt him, how someone could force him to do things he didn’t want to or how someone could kill the one person who loved him. How someone could take everything he had, he ever was. You can’t understand it. You would give him everything. You would give your life for him if you could.

“Y/N” he breathes out. His eyes close and a small smile forms on his face. “I thought I’ll never see you again,” he says. Your body moves on its own as you walk towards him. You almost throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you left me” he chokes out.

“I’ll stay by your side as long as you need me, I told you that before. Don’t you ever think that I’ll leave you” you whispered into his chest. The comforting smell of his sweater grazes your nose. His tail wrapping around your legs in a comforting manner.

“What makes you think that I’m worth your love?” he whispers back and you can’t help but hold him tighter as your eyebrows furrow. “I’ll love you because you can’t love yourself, that’s fine with me.” Tears form in your eyes as his soften.

He sighs and strokes your back “Then please never leave me” he mumbles and you nod your head. “You won’t ever have to be alone, Park Jimin” he smiles and strokes your back as you look at him. “I’ll never leave you. I thought about it and I think it’s the best to have you by my side, I would like to adopt you” you smile. His breath stops for a moment as you finish your sentence.

His legs give in and you both rush to the floor. The dark strands of hair fall into his face and his sobs fill the room and you hug him tight. “You’ll have a home, a place where no one can hurt you. A place for you and me” he nods and you smile back at him

“I never thought that I'd ever escape this. I thought I’ll have to live like this, locked away like a mad person. Alone with my thoughts and what happened to me. But the second you came into my room I knew. I knew that all of this is going to change. That I’ll escape” you nod at him. “The moment I read about what happened to you, I knew that I would do everything I could to save you. I’ll give you the peace you deserve, I’ll love you until death does us apart, Park Jimin”

a/n: i hope you liked it, stop by at my masterlist for more works of mine.

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

22 - Plans For Later

This chapters songs:

Pretty When I Cry; Lana Del Rey

Your Teeth In My Neck; Kali Uchis

4EVER; Clairo

- E. T. perspective

I can only explain this feeling with one word, torture. Watching as he smiles down at her, holds her hand, grabs her waist all the ways I wish he did to me. Why does this always happen to me? Why is it every time I develop feelings for someone, things never go my way?

Y/n isn't easy to hate. No matter how long I stalk her social media page and find new things to ask her about, she always has an excuse, and it's never sinister enough to make Koshi hate her too.

But Koshi will never hate Y/n, and neither will I.

It's not her fault that the dummy fell in love with her. Her scent, her voice, her skin— everything about the girl is so much better than any cell in my body.

I remember the first time I met him. I was looking for a sport to get used to and found that volleyball was the most entertaining and friendly. There were limited players and not very good ones. Back then, Koshi was considered one of the best players, but his title was taken from Kageyama. I knew the instant he looked at me that I wanted him to be mine.

From time to time, Koshi would give me eyes under his lashes when we spoke, brush his hands against my back when he wanted, and do so many other things that made my heart throb. I thought that he felt the things I felt as well. That was until the week before I left Japan.

It was just the two of us in the supply closet, cleaning up after another day of practice. The light timer had just gone off and the both of us ran to reset it, making our bodies collide with each other. Unintentionally, he pressed me against the wall with both hands, breathing over my shoulder.

I was running out of time back then. I only had a week to kiss him, to talk to him, to love him. All different scenarios ran through my mind as I turned around and stared deep into what I assumed were his eyes. I had my chance to kiss him. So, I did. And he didn't resist.

He let me touch his pale cheeks with my fingers and slip my tongue through his lips. He let me press myself against his chest and whimper while I fought his tongue with mine. He even helped himself to press my hip back against the wall. My skin ran cold, wishing I could feel what was under the shirt he wore.

Did Koshi want to feel me too?

He didn't. I knew he didn't, and it was painful. I knew that no matter how much I kissed and held him, he wouldn't ever return my feelings. Koshi only kissed me for the hell of it. He was empty, as always. What made him this way? Why wasn't I ever enough to fulfill the man I love?

I shoved him away and covered my blushing face that now had tears running down it. "Koshi!" I shouted out. "Why do you do this to me?! You give me so many mixed signals even though you know you'll never love me back! Why are you torturing me this way?!"

Koshi attempted to calm me down with many gestures of hand waves and shushed, but I wailed into the darkness, crying out his name over and over again. My heart felt as if it sunk to my feet. It wasn't his fault that I fell in love with him, but blaming someone for my issues felt like the only solution at the moment.

"Why not me?! Why do you—why do you like so many girls but me? I'm here, Koshi! You know I'm in love with you yet you haven't given me any sign or hint! Is this all you wanted from me?! Was I just another girl for you to concur?"

He grabbed my shoulder and caught my attention in an instant, yelling back at me. "Eclair, I'd never do that to you! You're worth much more than someone who can't last a day in a relationship. Especially...especially someone who doesn't love you back."

It hurt so much to hear him say those words. Now that he truly does love another girl, I don't think I can handle hearing them again. Why did my relationships never work out? All I've ever wanted was to feel loved by someone. My parents don't make much of an effort. What is so good about Y/n and not I? Why couldn't he have changed his ways for me? Am I that bad?

At this point, I have no idea what to do other than stare at the bunk above mine, hearing the steady breathing coming from Y/n as she sleeps. He loves her, and not me; that was the most painful thing that I have ever realized.

-

- Y. L. Perspective

When I went to sleep, I didn't think I would wake up sweaty under the comfortable, feeling as if I had a severe fever.  I open my eyes and stare widely at the white ceiling above me, wondering if Kiyoko and Eclair were burning up as well.

'I hope I don't have to do much activity today.' I think to myself as I sit up in the top bunk. My legs dangle off of the wooden barrier that contains me from falling out.

"Hey! Eclair is taking a quick shower. Ready to cook breakfast?" Kiyoko says, grabbing onto the bedboard. She wore a lilac shirt with blue sweatpants; something comfortable to start the day.

'Guessing she didn't go through hell and back last night?' I rub my eye, nodding to the girl as she slips her phone into her back pocket. "Hey, is it just me, or was it super hot last night?" I ask.

Before leaving the room, she gives me a side-eye. "Uhm...no. But I know why you were." Her voice is filled with curiosity, telling me something wasn't right. "Last night, you seemed to have a dream of some sort. Nightmare or something more..?"

The smirk on her face is diminishing. Did I have a strange dream last night? I couldn't seem to remember. If so, I hoped I wasn't tossing and turning like a maniac.

Embarrassed, I slap my face gently, hiding my red face. "Shimizu!" I whine to her. I, unfortunately, forgot any memory of my dream last night the second I opened my eyes. There was no knowing what made me have hot flashes. "I'll meet you in the kitchen. Give me a minute to freshen up," I tell her, climbing down from the top bunk.

-

I could hear a few of the boy's voices as I roasted the vegetables on the stove, letting a smile creep up onto my face. If they were awake, that meant Koshi was getting ready as well.

I knew that Eclair's being here stopped us from being as affectionate as we would like to be, but seeing each other was all we needed to get through the day.

"Almost done, Y/n?" Kiyoko asks me from the counter as she plates the meat and rice we cooked. I nod, turning off the stove and pouring the vegetables into a bowl. The both of us pick up a few plates to take to the mess hall. Takeda was right behind us as we walked there with utensils and plates.

Kiyoko kicks the door open, revealing two tables full of hungry boys. We set down the food onto a counter for them to begin serving themselves. After carefully placing my bowl of vegetables, I turn around to glance for Sugawara.

Of course, he was already behind me. "Good morning, Y/n and Kiyoko. Thank you for cooking us breakfast," he says as friendly as possible. Though the entire volleyball team except Eclair knew we were a couple, Koshi didn't want to make a scene out of our relationship.

Shimizu rolls her eyes playfully, wafting her hand in the air. "You guys can play 'dating'. Eclairs showering so she won't be down here until another twenty minutes." Leaving the two of us in front of the serving table.

He runs his neck, smiling at me. "How'd you sleep?" Koshi asks me, lowering his voice to where only I can make it out under the noisy volleyball club. One step closer results in his body softly pressed against mine and his hand resting neatly on my shoulder, his eyes staring back into mine. At that very moment, discovering why I'd woken up so sweaty this morning wasn't any struggle.

I become red in an instant, flustered at visions of Koshi being intimate with me in my room. His facial features lit by moonlight, his lips gentle tugging on mine, his scent showering my body. Wonders about my first time would enter my mind once in a while, but I've never had such a vivid image of what it would be like. It wasn't as if I could continue fantasizing about it in the breakfast line.

"Y/n...are you good?" Koshi squeezes my shoulder gently, waking me from a daze. Blinking rapidly, I look away from him in shame of my perverted thoughts and nod.

"Yeah! I slept great. What about you?" A bright smile is enough to clear up any worry that he had brought upon himself. He grins back, sliding his hand from my shoulder to my wrist, fidgeting with my fingers as he spoke.

"Good, good. Although, sharing a room with eleven boys isn't very peaceful. I bet Kiyoko and Eclair let you get some rest," he says, giving us both plates to begin plating our food. I grab a few fresh vegetables and a scoop of rice, then pour myself and Koshi and cup of green tea.

He nods his head to the left, motioning for me to follow him to an empty table where we could discuss how our night went further. We sat down our plates and sat across from each other, saying our thanks.

"So! Got any ideas about what we might be doing today?" I ask him as I began eating my food.

He scoffs lightly. "Well, Daichi told me we are gonna be running for the entire morning. Then, I assume we'll be extending our skills in the gym for a while. If we have any free time, wanna sneak off somewhere and head into the small town?" He looks up at me before taking a bite of steak.

Running and training don't seem all bad on behalf of Kiyoko and me. All that meant was that we would be handing out water and towels for them; regular manager things. "Yeah! Do you think we'll get in trouble if we do?" I whisper, leaning closer to him.

For a second, he stares at me intensely, then looks to his left and right. "No, not if we don't tell anybody."

He bites his bottom lip slightly and gulps his tea. Ever before he could notice I was staring, I look down at my plate and continue eating.

It wasn't the risk of getting in trouble that scared me, but what might happen when I go out with Koshi. Perhaps being alone with him after having a dream about fucking wasn't the brightest idea. Although, I wanted so badly to spend time with him without having to refrain from any couple-like behavior.

With that in mind, I say yes to his request. "Sure thing. Got any ideas about where to go? Or more importantly, any money?" I jokingly ask, making him chuckle at me. He shakes his head gently, eying me.

"Yeah, I got money. If it's okay with you, we can hop on a few buses and wander the city." I grew eager to do exactly that. During the summer when Grimlace was invited to open for concerts, we would blow our money on cheap motels and bus bills, but always made the best memories while doing so.

Of course, I'd want to go with Koshi. And so, I smile brightly, resting my head on my hand, and looking at him while he happily ate his food. "Yeah, I'd like that." Now, our schedule didn't seem so bad. We'd be able to spend time with each other once it was clear of volleyball training.

-

Hey hey hey my bbs. Tysm for reading, I tried to make this chapter fulfilling enough to build excitement for the next one!! As always, take care of yourself. Love you and pls vote!

(Ps. I love the new comments)

- estrxlar

[getitinbusan]

Birthday Surprise (SMUT)

Happy birthday to our Kim Taehyung!

I busted this out in record time so I hope the smut makes up for the lack of editing.

You knocked on the door lightly to get Jimin's attention without waking up the birthday boy. Your stomach was a ball of nerves as you waited for him to let you into the dorm. He smiled sweetly at you through the window as he turned the lock and pushed it open to welcome you.

Laying a quick kiss on your cheek, you blushed as he explained,  "I made sure everyone had plans and they'll be out of the house for at least 4 hours. Taehyung is still sleeping, he's in the last room at the end of the hall."

You inhaled deeply trying to calm yourself, "Thanks for helping Chim, and for not making this awkward…"He laughed, I'm just happy you trusted me with your birthday secret. Now get in there and deflower my best friend."

Embarrassed you could only shake your head, "Yep, not awkward at all." Grabbing his bag he pulled the door closed behind him and turned the lock.

You'd been in the house before while you waited for Taehyung but it was never this quiet. The absence of his brothers made it unbearably still as your loud heartbeat echoed through your chest. Slowly making you way up the hall to the last room you reached out to turn the handle slowly. Laying in his boxers and a t shirt  he was snoring softly while clinging to his pillow. The room was a mess and there were no sheets on the bed, maybe you should have let Jimin tip him off to your plan.  

Undoing your coat and letting it drop to the floor you took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked okay. What would he think? You'd spent a lot of money for the see through black babydoll set you were wearing.

"Tae," you whispered softly, he stirred slightly, "Happy Birthday Taehyung." He rubbed his eyes opening them slowly, "Jagi, what are you doing here? Am I dreaming." You giggled at his cuteness, he sat up, his eyes widened as he moved over the bed to get to you.

"You're not dreaming baby, I wanted to wake you up on your birthday and surprise you with your present."

He wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you, "I love you so much y/n" Running your hands through his hair you leaned down to place a kiss on his lips, "I love you too and I want us, right now, to have sex." 

He seemed shocked and a little flustered, "Hang on…" he left in a flurry and returned a few minutes later with a blanket tucked under his arm. He threw all the clothes and plushies off his bed and flung the blanket out to cover the bare mattress. Grabbing his phone he connected it to his speaker and smooth jazz began playing throughout the room.

"Are you done Tae? Because I'm really really ready for this to happen." He nodded yes and then he quickly frowned, "No, one more thing"

Leaning on his dresser impatiently, you couldn't believe he was making you wait. He came back in and moved towards you grinning, "now I'm ready." He leaned in cupping your face and kissed you slowly, you couldn't help but laugh into his mouth, "Tae, did you really just leave me standing here like this to go brush your teeth?"

Continuing to kiss down your neck he nodded, "Do you want the memory of losing your virginity to include morning breath?" He tickled your sides and pulled you down on the bed laying on top of you, "Are you sure you're ready for this? I don't want you doing this just because its my birthday"  Reaching into his boxer shorts you grabbed his length and stroked it gently, "I'm 100% positive if you are." 

His long fingers fumbled to undo the tie on the front of your lingerie, saving him, you pulled it and the lace opened sliding over your breasts. He paused to stare, taking in your body hungrily.

You'd been together for 6 months and while you'd made out you'd never seen each other naked. "You're so beautiful Jagi," he breathed out while laying soft kisses over your chest. Never having felt anything like this in your life you could only lay back and moan in pleasure as his lips suckled your nipples. His hand moved down your body and his fingers found their way between you legs, a little shock wave ran through you when the palm of his hand rubbed over your sensitive clit.

"Put them inside me, please," he complied, walking his fingers down further until your wet opening  was right beneath it. Slowly he pushed it into your soft pink hole deeper and deeper until he couldn't go further, stopping to watch your face he thought he could cum right there.

"You're okay?" He asked, "Do you want more?" He pulled it out painstakingly slow teasing you.

"Yes, please... Tae, I've masturbated before I'm not going to split in two, you can be a little less gentle"

Taken back by your words he pushed two fingers in abruptly and rocked his palm against your clit. "Like that is that better? I didn't know you were such a dirty girl." Becoming an instant mess under him he didn't let up, his fingers definitely felt better than your own, "I'm going to make you cum before I even get inside you, do you want that? Do you want to see if my tongue feels good too?"

You'd never heard him talk like this, his words were making you clench around his fingers and the lewd noises from your wetness had you right on the edge. "Lick me Tae, fuck I want your mouth on me so badly," giving your nipple one more harsh suck he moved down your body.  Leaving sloppy kisses on the insides of your thighs he wasted no time attaching his lips to your swollen clit.

"Oh my God! Fuck," you shouted in ecstasy, "Shhh, baby, everyone's going to know what we're doing in here." He licked slowly over your cunt.

"Nobodies here Tae I made them all leave, so we can fuck as loud as we want." Feeling less self conscious, he took it as a new challenge to make you cum not only hard but loud as well.

"This is the best birthday ever," he growled at your cunt before slamming his fingers back inside. His words got you worked up, never thinking he'd be one for dirty talk just seeing you writhing when he spoke made the expletives drip off his tongue like your juices all over his face.

"So close Tae, don't stop… fuck don't stop," you were grinding yourself onto his face and his fingers were merciless inside you as you came all over him. "Shit Jagi, that was amazing. You're so sexy, I think I just want to make you cum like that all the time" 

Pushing him off of you onto his back you pulled his shirt over his head, "I'm not going to stop you, but today is supposed to be about you. Tugging down his boxers his dick laid hard as a rock on his stomach. "Jesus Tae,  your cock is fucking huge," he laughed out loud "is it going to split you in two?"

He was flattered, you were scared. You'd felt him pressed against you leg when you'd made out and dry humped but you were not prepared for this giant girthy dick that lay before you. Starting with small kitten licks to his tip he twitched under you. Making the strokes bigger you moved from his head to his base to his balls as he leaked little beads of pre cum out of his eager tip.

"Ummm, you taste so sweet" sucking up the drops and licking your lips you let your cunt slide over his leg as you moved back down to fully wrap your lips around him.  He threw his head back, the noises leaving his body had you so turned on you wanted nothing more than to see him cum all over himself. Your jaw ached, he was so smooth and delicious you didn't want to stop. His hands moved to the back of your head and he grabbed your hair, "stop… I'm going to cum," you kept going against his force, "just a bit more… please Tae, I love how you feel in my mouth." 

He grabbed you and flipped you onto your back, "I want you too badly to blow it on a blow job," reaching over to his side drawer he grabbed a box of condoms, "I bought these two weeks after I met you and I'm so glad we're finally getting to use them." Pulling out a foil pack you grabbed it out of his hand, "The day after I met you I started taking the pill."  Before your eyes, his lust starved look turned into pure adoration, "I am so in love with you, you can't possibly even know" he rested his forehead against yours and kissed you, his lips never broke contact as he pushed himself inside you. When he was fully inserted he stopped, his hands caressed your face and ran through your hair as he looked into your eyes, "are you okay?" you nodded.

His hips moved slowly and deliberately, afraid to move too fast and wreck the moment by hurting you.  As you became more comfortable you sped up your movements to meet his thrusts in wet slaps of bare skin. Sweaty and blissed out you wanted to take over, to let him lay back and enjoy himself. "Tae, can I ride you baby?" he wrapped his arms around you tightly and rolled over carefully to keep himself inside you.

Taking control you plunged yourself down onto him, his cries of pleasure spilled out of his mouth faster as you began clenching around him. Grabbing your ass he helped drag you over his cock as your fatigue set in, this was it. 

"Shit, Fuck, Oh My God," not sure who's words were who's the air was filled with satisfaction as you both came at the same time. Collapsing on top of him, you both lay wrapped in each other catching your breath until you couldn't take the stickiness anymore, "I guess we should get cleaned up before everyone gets home."

Throwing on his t shirt, you walked down the hall towards the kitchen to grab some water. You were met in the living room with six synchronized voices, "SURPRISE!" Tae pulled you behind him, "Y/N was just here to give me my birthday present," you'd never seen anyone blush that hard before. "Yeah we heard," Yoongi winked. 

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Toxicity At It's Finest, Reader x Draco Malfoy

"I've been holdin' my breath, I've been countin' to ten, over somethin' you said..."

The weather is a mirror to the emotions swirling through the air.

Thunder shatters the silence, roaring just above the manor. Lightning splits the skies, the blue light flashing across both of your faces, seemingly accentuating the flaming anger of his clenched jaw and fiercely glaring ice blue eyes. Rain drops, big and heavy as hail, pounds the windows in earnest.

You can't believe what had spewed from his mouth, and the sting is worse than as if you've been slapped in the face. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and choose your next words carefully, as your voice breaks and you choke back a sob.

"... Alright,"

Now it's his turn to look as if he's been slapped. You don't miss the shock on his face, but you continue anyways, feeling as if it's for the best.

"I'll go."

You turn on your heels and run for the stairs, scared to stay a moment longer, lest he talk you out of it.

Though blinded by tears, you don't miss a single step, and you reach your shared bedroom without making any more of a fool out of yourself. The door slams shut behind you, and the sound echoes through the mansion, as if trying to voice your determination for you. Still, you finally let the tears flow freely and you scream out in devastation as you back against the door and slide down to the marble floors.

You had finally had enough. After twelve long years of staying by Draco's side through his ridiculous bi-polar emotional episodes and abuse, through his breakdowns from the abuse of his father, through his cheating on you with that disgusting pug Pansy Parkinson, through his suicidal pact with the Dark Lord, and almost dying for him in the Battle of Hogwarts, you had finally had enough.

"I've been holdin' back tears, while you're throwin' back beers and I'm alone in bed..."

These kind of fights were not uncommon while Draco drank back his pain and sorrow, but it used to end in the two of you coming together in the heat of the argument to say your apologies through some sort of carnal physical activity, since neither you nor Draco were ever ones to voice your feelings in the lovey-dovey chit-chat sort of ways. But for the past eighteen months, there had been no apologies at all, carnal or otherwise. Things had steadily been getting more and more aggressive and tense between the two of you, spiralling out of control as Draco drank more and more often. He often would try to find any reason to start and argument, almost as if trying to distance himself from you. You, on the other hand, had simply taken everything in stride for the first few months, knowing that one of the consequences of being committed to the Malfpy Heir was his rollercoaster of emotions and admittedly vindictive and toxic nature whenever he was caught in a downward slope.

But things were different this time. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and no matter how often you tried to break through his wall and try to get him to open up to you again; to become the soft, sweet yet damaged boy that you knew was behind the façade, he wouldn't crack.

You had even tried to break through with seduction, as it was a last-resort that you had used more than once before. You had even donned his favorite lingerie; an emerald green and black sheer lace set with a black sheer lace kimono. You had cornered him while he was in his father's old study, hunched over some sort of paperwork with his hands stuffed into his silky, platinum hair. You had approached quietly, draping yourself over his shoulders and kissing his ear while you whispered a breathy,

"Draco, come play..."

into his ear.

And the bastard had the audacity to take one sideways glance at you and scoff, looking back to the papers and muttering something snide under his breath about having no time for games.

More and more layers of wall went up with every brick you had managed to scrape off in the past, and it had finally come to a peak.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change... Guess that's why, we stayed the same..."

Even the beginning of the fight had been strange. Usually the arguments you two had were over something real, something serious. Whether it be you, trying to help him break away from his carefully sculpted mask of anger and spite that had been constructed over the years and getting blind-sided with some vindictive comment by the character he had forged; or by said character being a few too many butterbeers in and trying to deconstruct you for something extremely irrelevant and simple, like doing the dishes by hand instead of instructing the house elves to do them, there was a predictable pattern to his emotional explosions.

This time had been different.

You were simply lounging by the fire, delving deep into your favorite muggle-writen novel, when he had appeared before you. You couldn't exactly remember what had happened at first, only that he had torn the book from your hands and thrown it into the roaring fireplace. The next thing you can recall, he's pushing you back against the black leather couch, forcing his mouth and body upon you as if he hadn't been completely depriving you for over a year, as if he hadn't brushed off your advances and let you cry yourself to sleep alone in the bed you had once shared for over a year.

So you did what any sane woman would do: You slapped him and shoved him off of you, hollering over your lost novel and his shitty advance.

"You must be joking?!" You had screamed, standing over him as he clutched his face in pain and looked up at you with liquor-glazed eyes wide in apparent shock.

The shock didn't last long, though.

You don't know if he actually hit you, because everything happened so quickly, but your recollection counts you on the floor, and him above you, screaming profanities in your face as spit flies from his mouth while he roars at you through clenched teeth. You've never been one to back down though, and you remember quickly finding your feet and shoving him backwards into the coffee table, almost tripping him as you scream back profanities that would make an Irish sailor blush.

Things escalated so quickly, you can't remember exactly what each of you said, you just remember how bad each word hurt. Whether you were receiving or dishing them out, each word split your heart into tinier pieces, syllable by syllable. The last thing you remember was what ended the argument and sent you flying up the stairs.

"So tell me to leave. I'll pack my bags, get on the road..."

"So why don't you just tell me to fucking leave?! Why the fuck are we still doing this?! Why waste either of our time anymore?! I don't fucking deserve this!! You've been playing fucking games with me since the first day we fucking met, you don't fucking love me, you barely love yourself!!"

"Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

You had regretted the words instantly, for they had sobered you of the outright rage that had blinded you for however long the fight had been going for. Draco, however, had no sobering experience. No, your analysis of his drinking and abuse had simply proved to anger him further, and he screamed the six words that shattered your world to the core.

"THEN GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT, YOU HALF-BREED WHORE!! YOU'RE BARELY WORTH MY TIME, I COULD FIND TEN WOMEN WHO WOULD LOVE ME BETTER!! AND THEY'LL ALL KNOW THEIR BLOODY PLACE, TOO!!"

"Feels like a lifetime, just tryna get by, while we're dying inside. I've done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one, but I can't move on..."

Silence ensued between the two of you, even though it was swallowed by the crack of the thunder above your heads and the deafening pounding of the large raindrops on the roof.

And this is what brought you here, locked away in your once shared bedroom, crying your soul out in rivers as you packed what mattered as quickly as possible, not that you were getting very far with your task. You could barely see, after all. In fact, you were sobbing so openly and loudly; you didn't hear the quiet flapping of clothing and clap of footfalls on marble that come with someone apparating into appearance.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change. Guess that's why we stay the same..."

You growled in sorrow and frustration at your clumsily packed trunk, slamming down the lid to try and close it; to no avail. You could barely see through your tears, so you could scarcely be expected to notice the small corner of a shirt that was tucked just slightly into the slot where the latch was supposed to slide in. You simply growled and cried in aggravation, slamming it over and over, faster and harder, trying to get the latch to catch in the slot. After a few tries, you gave up. Sliding to floor in anguish and defeat, you brought your legs up and crossed your arms over your knees, tucking your face into your jeans to hide your tear and snot-streaked features. You still can't hear anything over the deafening storm and your own cries, but you know it's Draco when you feel his touch. It's soft, as if he's trying not to frighten you away like you would a feral cat.

Just a gentle stroke of his palm on your hair, and you dare take a glance at his shoes through your arms, before looking up at him through your tears. You can see his expression change when he takes a good look at your face, and you can see the pain in his now sobered eyes. You can tell he's sorry, but that's not enough this time, and you turn your face back into your legs and take a deep, shuddering breath.

"So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road. Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

"(Y/N), please..." You can hear his voice cracking, and you want so badly to turn to him and push away his fears. You want to tell him that you won't go anywhere, that you'll always be here, that you'll never let him push you away... But you can't. You don't have it in you right now, and you're not sure if you will again, not this time. For the first time, you find yourself imagining a life without Draco in it. Would you be happier? Would the pain end? You don't think you even remember what it was like before being with Draco, before being a slave to your blind love for him and that scares you half to death.

So you don't say a thing, you simply begin to cry even harder, and that prompts Draco to drop to his knees beside you, enveloping you in his arms and whispering desperate 'I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry's. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, and for a split moment you think the roof has sprung a leak, before you realize it's his tears hitting the top of your head as he cries in earnest.

"I don't know what to do, (Y/N)... I don't know how to fix this... I love you so much..." He chokes back a sob, and you sniffle as you begin to cry even harder.

"Please, please don't leave... I'm so so sorry..."

You stay like that for a few hours, wrapped in his arms while he cries out his apologies into your hair, before you finally cave into him, shushing his sobs and kissing away his tears.

"If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and baby, I'll go. You remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

[bunnyhani]

No No Tears No!

Pairing: (Platonic!) Yang Jeongin x Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: Talk of anxiety, desciptive scenes of feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts. Cursing. Self-hatred, self-doubt. Unhealthy coping mechanisms!

A/N: Please be careful when reading. Do NOT read, if you get triggered by these topics. Stay safe!💕

Summary: Jeongin hated crying. He always said to his friends and other people important to him, as advice that if they need to cry, they should. In fact, he often encouraged people to cry, as it kind of releases pent up emotion and can ultimately make you feel better. But Jeongin himself couldn't take his own advice: he just hated crying. So he just avoids it. Not a smart choice.

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

Jeongin hated crying. He always said to his friends and other people important to him, as advice that if they need to cry, they should. In fact, he often encouraged people to cry, as it kind of releases pent up emotion and can ultimately make you feel better. But Jeongin himself couldn't take his own advice: he hated crying. Of course everyone hated crying, but his hatred towards it was on another level. So he wasn't surprised when he often found himself pushing the tears back, swallowing his sobs and feeling awful after it. Still. He just couldn't handle the emotional state that happened when you were crying. The feelings it brought. When his friends asked and sometimes even jokingly called him a hypocrite, he always said something about the messiness of it. The snot running from your nose, your eyes becoming red and irritated. How you're running out of breath, and there was also a danger of getting an eyelash in your eye. How dumb the sobs sounded.

While all this was true, there was another reason too. Another one, that he wasn't particularly fond of sharing. To him, crying felt like the peak of sadness. It felt like everything in chest was getting squeezed and crushed into nothing. All the emotions that had been trapped inside, went through, escaping when he sobbed his heart out. They hurt even worse than they originally did. It just hurted, ached so badly that he thought he was going to break. The maximum point of sadness. To him... It felt like losing. Failure. Failure of trying to keep everything together and composed.

But for some reason, lately he has been crying more than he would like. He doesn't really know what to do with himself. So he doesn't do anything.

It started a few weeks ago. It started with sleeping troubles and self-esteem issues. He couldn't fall asleep easily and when he did, he would wake up a few hours later and would have trouble falling asleep again. Jeongin never had a good self-esteem to begin with, he didn't like looking at himself in the mirror. While he mostly didn't say he was the most awful looking human being on earth, he didn't like himself. He never did. He just didn't think too much. But both his views on himself kept changing as his sleeping schedule kept on getting more and more messed up. It all spiraled into another level of hatred when some spots appeared on his skin. He looked hideous. Although it was only four or three spots, it was awful. He felt ashamed. Usually his skin was clean and smooth looking. Now it wasn't. The weight in his chest just got heavier every day, his appetite disappeared and soon he didn't see any other living soul except his mother's. And that too was only because they lived under the same roof. His weight started dropping and he knew often that he should eat, but he didn't. He ate very little, maybe one meal a day. His weight started dropping. He kept declining his friends' invitations to come outside or other meetups. Jeongin didn't even know why, it wasn't like he did anything important with his time. He felt pathetic. It was the summer break and he was just laying around in his room in the dark, doing nothing else but crying and going through his phone, and making his mom dinner. It didn't take for him to realize that his depression was acting up along with his already active anxiety. And that realization required a bit of a shake for him too...

Jeongin woke up, back aching and he felt like he had been run over with a truck. His chest was heavy, but he didn't pay attention to it because it was a part of his life already. He made the dinner, not eating it yet, deciding to force himself to eat later. Now he just wanted to lie down and sleep more. Jeongin's field of vision started blurring as tears made their way into his eyes. He was snapped out of his thoughts at the familiar stinging sensation that told him about the tears' arrival. He blinked his eyes rapidly, taking deep breaths. Jeongin didn't want to cry. The boy got up from the kitchen chair and walked back to his room, misty eyed. He wanted to cry out of frustration, why would he be crying? He did not want to cry. What part of that very clear statement did his body not understand. He lied on his bed, thoughts running wild, and at one point, he just thought: I don't want to live. And that was all he needed before he was sobbing like a small child. His sobs were raw with emotion and he tried to stop it. He did. The boy couldn't stop it, no matter what, he was there just crying, laying in a fetal position in his bed. He tried to tell himself how sad people close to him would be, how he would never be able to see his favorite band ever again. But to his horror, he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. Nothing mattered.

After his sobs started to quiet down, he felt numb but drained. He was annoyed with himself, that he felt this way. Why was he like this? I guess on the plus side, the crying saved my life. I would have done something stupid if I wasn't busy crying so much that I could barely breathe, let alone move. Jeongin wasn't happy with it. He was so tired that he couldn't even properly think about suicides. That thought alone scared him. If only he would have known that the realization if wanting to die and that his depression was active again, would make his thought world even darker.

For the next few days, Jeongin didn’t get any better. He felt numb to it all, but he also felt like he was close to crying and breaking apart any second now. His friends messaged him, asking if he’s okay. Commenting on his absence, how little he actually responded back to their texts. How dull even his texts were. Honestly Jeongin felt like he wasn’t really there. Like something was missing. Maybe his head wasn’t in the game or he himself was so emotionally drained that he didn’t have anything left. Not enough emotions to actually reply back properly. Write a heartfelt message, apologize for his behviour. When his friends complained about something, the best he could come up with: it will be okay and oof. Which was a big change, since he was usually so composed, always ready to help and give good advice. That was the reason why people even came to him in the first place, because he always had good advice and could provide a new way of looking at things. He felt the need to apologize. To say that this wasn’t him. But that was where the whole thing kind of fell apart. This was him. He was just extremely good at hiding it. Jeongin just shook his head as another text popped up, completely ignoring it. Sorry Seungmin-hyung, he thought and shifted his gaze back onto the wall that he had been staring for a good 30 minutes.

It was 5pm when the doorbell rang, indicating that his mom was home. He felt rage surge inside of him, gritting his teeth, he ran to the door to promptly rip it open. His mom was there smiling and Jeongin had the urge to kick her. Her mother’s smile fell from her lips when she noticed her son’s expression. Jeongin just turned on his heel to go back to his room.

“What’s wrong?” His mom asked, the look of worry on her face.

“You have your own damn house keys, why don’t you use them? Why do you force me to always come and run to open the door for you?” The boy exploded. He bit his lip as he tried to hold himself back from cursing his mother’s whole existense down to Hell. Jeongin didn’t wait for any reply and went back to his room, resisting the urge to slam his door closed like an angry child. He was aware that he was being childish and also knew that this was another symptom. Let’s add: irritation to the list of symptoms, he thought bitterly to himself. He didn’t want to hurt his mother. But now all the emotion was too much to handle and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Why did you get mad over that?” His mother shouted from the kitchen and Jeongin wanted to cry out of anger.

“Not every fucking day can be a good day!” He screamed back. Oh my God, I’m a fucking child, he scolded himself. Oh no wait, I’m just an edgy teenager. An ungrateful brat, your mom did nothing to deserve that. I have no right to act this way, I have no reason to feel “depressed”. I have no right to feel this, no reason at all. Someone has it worse than me… He was disgusted with himself. Again, he started crying. Then he fell asleep.

The next time he woke up, was to his phone ringing. It scared him so badly that he banged his head against the wall behind him. Jeongin hastily reached for his phone, heart beating wildly in his chest. Hyunjin was calling. He huffed and put his phone down again, letting it ring, not wanting nor daring to pick it up. But what if Hyunjin was in trouble? The ringing made his anxiety make it’s presence known. Hyunjin deserves that I at least answer to him, he guilted himself and grabbed the phone, just about to press answer when the call ended. He stared at the phone, eyes wide. Part of him felt smug, but a part of him was terrified. He just rested his head back against the mattress with a blank face. Well, if Hyunjin had any urgent business, he would text him. And when Jeongin had gathered enough energy, he would reply back to the tall dancer. But right now, that goal was just a hazy dream in his mind, as he was drained after the sudden adrenaline he got from being scared by his phone.

It was maybe about 10pm when Jeongin was somewhat alive enough to grab his phone again to reply to Hyunjin (who had been messaging throughout the day, not spamming, but just dropping a few messages here and there). He read through them and he felt kind of sorry. He took a deep breath and sent a text saying:

DesertFoxie: Hi hyung. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you called. I’ve been super busy, you know, doing my summer reading and all that shit. Honestly it took a lot out of me so I kinda may or may not have slept for like 4 hours. What did you want to talk about? Why did you call?

Sent,10:03pm

Waiting for an answer was nerve-wracking, especially when he saw that Hyunjn pretty much went online as his message went through. He swallowed thickly as the older started typing an answer to him. Should he wait for the answer? Or should he ignore it? Or just go offline and watch the window of the text then, so he could read through it without marking it straight away as read. It would give him time to ponder carefully what to answer. Despite his curiousness of his hyung’s reasoning, he did put his phone down and just stared at the oh so interesting wall again, just waiting for Hyunjin’s reply.

Hyunjin-hyungie: Hi. I was just wondering that how have you been doing recently. I’m really worried of you, Innie. It’s been awhile that you’ve been this distant to any of us… Please just know that I’m here. Tell me how are you.

Sent, 10:05pm

Ok, his hyung was the best person ever, Jeongin decided. He weighed his options for a moment, finger drumming against his thigh. Should he be honest or say that he was fine? He was so lonely. And he wanted to talk in a way, but at the same time not. He sent a message asking Hyunjin that did he want an honest answer. Of course, Hyunjin said yes. Jeongin nibbled on his lip and threw his head back in frustration. What to choose.

He decided to say fuck depression and anxiety, pushing himself to reply back and tell the truth, like Hyunjin had requested.

DesertFoxie: You know… The usual depressing bullshit. Actually no. You don't know, because I haven't said anything. I've been hating myself for a few weeks now consistently. Idk why, I just find myself disgusting. So I've been eating less and then I've eaten more and foods that aren't very good for you. But mainly not eaten a lot. Mainly because I don't have an appetite. Like I can't bring myself to care that I'm eating very sugary and chocolaty ice cream, not good for my skin since I'm trying to clear it up. But later, I will be like lol that's your fault, shouldn't have eaten u ugly ass, etc.

DesertFoxie: Oh and I've been isolating myself a lot more than usual. Hence why I'm hard to reach.

DesertFoxie: Aanndd my insomnia is acting up. And apparently, so is my depression.

DesertFoxie: I feel awful because my emotional state is so dumbly depressed and numb that I can't even put a proper thank you text together for you know… Checking on me and listening to me right now… Anyways, that's why all my advice (when people ask) has always sucked and been like oh yeah it will get better, drink water, sleep... I get why people would get frustrated with me.. I usually give good advice and support them (I do but fkalfkd) I just.. then give that bullshit that anyone can say ir figure out by themselves…

DesertFoxie: Like.. I can't.. just give you advice? Something just isn't there. Maybe it's my head. Maybe my emotions.. I don’t know.

DesertFoxie: And it's getting hard to pretend to be fine to my mom. Que me being in my room and avoiding all humans once and for all. We can add to the list of symptoms: irritability… I don't want to snap at mom. Because no. 1. She will most likely get mad at me. 2. Yeah just no that’s a bad idea.

DesertFoxie: It kinda makes your head feel heavy too? You feel so sluggish… I hate depression... It kind of feels like crying. Everything hurts and aches, everything gets squeezed in your chest so badly to the peak of heaviness and sadness and goes away and the next thing you know, you don't feel anything for a week. You hate everything. Nothing matters. I wrote a whole paragraph of how depression feels, yet I feel like that's not nearly enough. Like there is so much more, something so unexplainable. And you just want to sleep…

DesertFoxie: I just want to keep saying this isn't me but it is. I'm just good at hiding it.

Sent, 10:25pm

Jeongin held his breath after writing all that. He started regretting the choice after a minute already. Was that too much? Shit I’m too much, he thought and closed his phone. His heart was hammering in his chest and the familiar stinging of tears returned again.

“Fuck my fucking life, tears, just go away!” He screamed into his pillow. He was so so tired and done with the seemingly endless tears, actually he was done with living overall. If only he could just not exist, living would be so much easier. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that, so he just settled for waiting Hyunjin’s reply, heart in his throat. The sudden ping from his phone scared him yet again. He glanced over and the text he saw, made his heart stop.

Hyunjin-hyungie: I’m coming over.

Sent, 10:22pm

Jeongin was pacing back and forth his room, biting his finger. Was Hyunjin mad? Was he not? Holy shit, he had probably angered his hyung. He didn’t need to inform his mom about Hyunjin’s arrival, since she had gone to a very long walk. Now he was extremely grateful for his mom’s obsession with long hikes and walks. He could trust that his mom wouldn’t be home, when Hyunjin and him would most likely talk. A lot. This time, Jeongin wasn’t looking forward to talking with him. This time the whole conversation would resolve around him, and honestly he wasn’t quite ready for that, but he knew he owed that much to Hyunjin. Fun. Then he heard the front door open and someone frantically kicking their shoes off and before he had time to move, the hurried steps got close to his room and his room’s door was opened. And there stood Hyunjin. The older boy was a bit sweaty and panting from probably running the apartment complex’s staircase up.

“Jeongin”, he breathed out and took maybe two or three long steps so that he could wrap his arms around the younger. Hyunjin hugged like he was afraid Jeongin was going to disappear from his arms.

“Hyung?” Jeongin asked tentatively, bringing his skinny arms around the tall boy.

“I’m here, hyungie is here. You’re not alone”, Hyunjin whispered.

The two boys sat one the floor, side by side, holding hands. Jeongin wasn’t quite on board with just draping himself over Hyunjin, although he was sure that the older boy wouldn’t mind at all. They had talked. A lot. And now it was silent, it had been for the last 8 minutes. Then Hyunjin broke the silence and asked a question that he had been thinking about since he saw the metaphor in the text messages.

“Why did you compare the feeling of depression with crying?” Hyunjin asked. Jeongin sighed.

“Well… Uhh… I don’t like crying. It feels like… Crying feels like the peak of sadness and it makes it feel like everything in your chest gets crushed. Well.. more like your heart… Like crying sucks.. Your eyes hurt, you get eyelashes in your eyes, your nose is running and your like running out of breath and it just hurts. It feels like the sadness is just squeezing into the maximum level”, he explained with a quiet voice, fiddling with Hyunjin’s long fingers.

“Is that why you always avoid crying?” Hyunjin asked. Jeongin just nodded.

“I guess we have to work on that then”, Hyunjin concluded. Jeongin lifted his gaze to his hyung in confusion.

“We?” he asked, confused.

“Yes we. It’s not like I’m going to let you deal with all this alone, I’m your hyung, you know. I’m here. And I will gladly help.” Jeongin just lowered his eyes to the ground and squeezed Hyunjin’s hand tighter. Perhaps the both boys knew that Jeongin cried silently next to his strong hyung, but they didn’t say anything about it.

Yes, Jeongin hated crying with passion. But now he wasn’t alone with everything, he had Hyunjin by his side.

[pbandjesse]

I'm really tired. Everyone was very surprised I came to work today was how badly injured I am. Honestly I probably could have stayed home but it's not like I didn't have a good time at work. It was a really good day. I am tired.

I slept good last night. I woke up once but I wasn't as freaked out and sleeping with the eye mask on definitely helps. I got up with my alarm at 7:30 and got dressed and felt very cute. I love my outfit today. It was only like 75 degrees out so I actually could wear sleeves and that was nice. It also helped protect my arm a little bit. The one. My elbow is pretty raw. And it hurts to bend and pick up stuff but we survived.

I had waffles for breakfast and then I headed to work. Kenneth set up tables and I unfold a chair since I couldn't pick anything up really. Honestly doing the chairs kind of hurt my arm but I was okay. The Cannery was fun but we had a big stressful moment because the person who was supposed to be doing the printmaking was an hour late. So nothing was set up and we didn't realize until right as the kids were getting there and I really shouldn't have moving to process so I had to do my best but then I got upset because I was in pain and I yelled down and somebody had to come up and do it because I was just so frustrated.

The Cannery went good. The kids were really sweet. And I stumble on my words a few times during The Company Store but mostly it was very good.

I got a half hour break. I eat my rice and chilled. And then I gave my door. There was a little bit of a problem because we ran into the neighborhood tour but it all worked out. Again I had some trouble talking because are being distracted and being in pain but at the end of the parent on my tour said that she liked it a lot and then I did a really great job and she just kept telling me how nice it was. I love giving Forest there. Just good because I have two in a row tomorrow.

I left there at 12:30 and just missed the bus as I was coming up the hill. A sweet old man was sitting on the bench and he told me he was mostly blind and asked if I could tell him when the 80 bus came. And I said of course and we talked about how nice the weather was and then his bus came. And thankfully mine came just a couple minutes after. I was texting chelsi that would be late and she told me I shouldn't even come because she was worried about me. But honestly I wanted to go see the school nurse. I don't know when you need to go to the doctor. I feel like no one ever taught me that and I just feel like I'm bothering people or it's a waste of time. When I was a kid we never went to the doctor unless we were dying. My dad didn't go until after he was done having shingles. I don't have good references for this. So I got to school and I went to the school nurse and she told me that it looks bad but it's going to keep spreading. But the blood vessels are going to spread out and then lighten. She said if it gets really bad in the next couple days like it swells up or I get a hard knot somewhere else on my leg that I should be concerned and then go to the doctor. But she said that it doesn't look that bad All Things Considered. She said it looks bad. And everyone else agreed. Because all day and that's all I had to hear. I told the story what happened like 75 times today. But I was good.

I picked up the kids and I got lots of hugs which is really what I wanted today. I was talking to Marcus and joking about that. Everyone kept saying that they would have stayed home if they were made but for real what was I going to do. Lay here and be sad. I'd rather be at work and be safe. We spend the kids will come and give me hugs and that's always nice.

We made mosaics today. Every day this week, which is just tomorrow and Wednesday, will introduce a different project that the kids have requested. So it was nice to be able to kind of come together and have options and tomorrow add more options to the board of what they can make and it's just going to be good.

We had a nice time at recess and dinner was fine. There was some conflict with one of the staff members because she thought we were taking up too many tables and kept trying to tell her this is where we always sit and she disagreed with us and I just didn't even get into it with her I'd let Chelsea handle it. I just couldn't deal with that today.

But art was really fun and I was very proud of the kids. And it was a fairly quick day. At the end of the day I ended up staying behind because one of my students parents was just really concerned. She was really worried about how they're communication is with her daughter and she doesn't know what to do. Apparently they live in a neighborhood where the girl can sleep through anything until there's gunshots. And then she freaks out and can't sleep. I don't blame her. But she doesn't feel like they can talk to each other. So I suggested they do a mommy and me Journal where they can talk to each other through that. Where it's a judgement free zone and they can get things out. Maybe it'll help. I felt really bad and I wish there was something I could have done more for them. I really like the girl. But I understand where mother is coming from and it's really hard. For everybody.

When I got outside I had to run for the bus. But he didn't make me pay for it so that was cool. And then I got back to my bike and went up to James's place.

He made me a pizza bagel. And we hung out until all of the D&D people got there. First time in almost three months! It's been too long since I've seen all of them. But it was nice to be around other people for a bit. I got to try fancy Japanese Kit Kats because one of them had just gotten back from Japan. It was really fun.

As their game got started though I headed out. Said goodbye to everyone. Tentatively told Jordan that we may still be able to go to his birthday. But I'm not sure if we're going back to Philly for Father's Day and now so who knows what's going on there. And then I came back home.

Where I became crazy angry because again the new people next door locked the back gate. So I couldn't get into my Ally. So I couldn't get into my apartment. I had to go all the way around the block to the front drag my bike in through the door where it does not fit. And go back into my apartment. I went outside and I kicked the fuck out of that gate. I broke that lock right off which is what I told them I was going to do. I gave them a warning that if they locked me out of my apartment again I would remove the lock and I was serious. If they do it again I will remove the door. I cannot wait to not live in this apartment anymore because those people next door have ruined it for me. Besides any issue I had in this apartment as soon as they moved and they have made everything around here miserable. They put trash in the alleyway they let their dog shit everywhere and they lock me out of the place I live. They do not own that public shared space. And it is ridiculous that I have to continue to ask not to be locked out. I told them to put on a type of gate where you can open it from both sides they didn't listen. I had my dad fix the gate so that it would stay closed when that broke I fixed it. And then when it broke again their maintenance people fixed it and out of the second one that broke her most immediately. The spring is still whole and that should be good enough. If it is not you guys can then put on a different piece I am not fixing it again. It is so crazy to me that they think that they can lock that gate when I live here. They know they're not the only ones that can get through that gate and it is insanity. I will not put up with it anymore.

But after I did that I calm down. They will not lock me out again so there's that. So I felt better. I brought Sweet Pea inside and I went and took a shower. My new dress came that I got on eBay it fits me great and I feel super cute in it. And basically the rest of my day has been great. I'm very sleepy. I'm going to go have a snack and then I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed. I have double doors tomorrow and then teaching at the school. I think it's going to be an excellent day. James has his second interview and I'm very excited for him. I hate that it's on the phone for him because that sounds horrible but I hope that it goes well. He's such a good boy and he deserves to get this job. And I hope you all have a great night tonight. Sleep well everyone. Be safe out there.