#notice. if i see a dog in the empty garbage room i know something is amiss.

[spiribia]

i have a room in wobbledogs exclusively for teeth. whenever dogs drop their baby teeth i send the teeth down the chute to to the teeth room. it's because they have a potential effect on dogs when eaten (shifts their hue toward white and increases their glow) that is cool but not quite desirable for every dog out there, and because teeth are so small, they get easily lost in nooks of rooms and also get eaten by dogs you didn't want to eat them, and when you have a dog you want to make eat teeth it's sometimes a pain to find enough. someday i will unleash dogs in here to eat teeth

[spoopyblues214]

Salveō! Would you be willing to take a writing request for a rise!Donnie x reader? (platonic pls!)

the storyline could be something along the lines of the reader eating one of Mikey’s food at dinner with the turtles and it being a bad texture. (For me, a big one is lumps in smooth substances. Like rice pudding.. *shudder*) Anyway, the reader gets overstimulated and shuts down, Donnie brings ‘em to his “sensory room” in the lab and gives pressurized hugs and back rubs until the reader is comfortable and regulated again.

I’m a sucker for autistic reader fics. There’s not enough of those :(

This seems adorable! I unfortunately don't get to the point of shutting/breaking down from bad food textures (though I do have foods I refuse to eat), but I'll try my best!

The Pudding

Word count: 546

°•.•°

Usually you loved dinner with the turtles. Sure, they could be loud and unruly, but somehow they didn't drain your social battery as much as other people did. Listening to the brothers fighting was entertaining, and they talked so much you didn't have to worry about finding something to say. Usually, you'd say it was one of your favorite activities, trying what Mikey decided to make.

Today, though, that couldn't be further from the truth. Dinner had been fine, one of the best Mikey has ever made, but you could feel the color drain from your face as he revealed a bowl for dessert. A lumpy pudding that you just knew you wouldn't like. You would have passed, but Mikey used his puppy dog eyes, and said something about it being something new he tried out. That's how you ended up with a small serving on your plate.

Raph and Leo ate most of it, saying the pudding tasted great, but for you it wasn't about the taste. Donnie had had some of his own, a smaller serving in comparison to his brothers, and he watched you watch the thing on your plate. Still, you steeled yourself and ate a few spoonfuls, ignoring the urge to gag. That'd be so rude. After maybe four bites you wanted to cry, physically unable to swallow the next spoonful but only feeling worse and worse with the texture just sitting in your mouth.

Suddenly Donnie pulled you up from your seat, walking you from the room just as the other three were about to start a food fight. With a three fingered hand on your back you entered the soft shell's lab, and your confusion got interrupted when a metallic claw offered you an empty garbage bin.

“Spit. I know you still haven't swallowed your last bite.”

Oh yeah.

You spit out the pudding and felt tears gather in your eyes.

Why couldn't you just be normal? Everything was great and you're being a baby over nothing.

The tiny garbage can had been placed elsewhere and you took the last couple steps into a room with low lighting. Brown noise seemed to be playing from hidden speakers around the room. You turned to Donnie, and of course he already had an answer.

“This is my Overstimulation Panic Room. When I get overwhelmed, I come in here and it helps.”

You nod, looking back around the room and wondering what exactly you should do to ride this out. It took a gentle touch to one of your arms for you to notice you were squeezing yourself.

“If you would like I could offer you some pressure in the form of a hug?”

Donnie rarely offered hugs; you found it very kind he'd do so just for your own little meltdown. With another nod he wrapped you in a hug and squeezed, his chin on your head. You could guess he was using those same metallic claws to do other things on his phone, but you wouldn't expect anything else. The buzz from the speakers let you focus on things other than your mind, sounding like wind, and the dim purple lighting meant your eyes could take a break from seeing so many colors.

You'd have to thank Donnie later, somehow.

[brokenpieces-72]

In and Out

Navigation

Just want to say thank you so much for your guys love and support on this series. I genuinely appreciate it. My request box is open and empty and I love getting requests, whether it’s AUs or something else. If you want to be tagged let me know.

Milena knocks on your old apartment door. No answer. She knocks again and still no answer. This was ridiculous, what was the point of this? You’re just some tagger running with some men doing who knows what. Honestly she wants to be going over more of the land deals and getting home and health inspectors into that neighbourhood as soon as possible. More evictions more chances to rebuild.

Milena turns to walk away when she sees you, stopping her in her tracks. You have your bag over your shoulder, wearing a hoodie with a leather jacket overtop. You’re wearing a cap you “borrowed” from Kyle, old jeans and gloves. Of course you also had your scarf on.

If you didn’t know who Milena really was you would be wondering why she’s here, but you have some guesses. Before approaching her you noticed her approaching your building. You’d caught a photo and asked for instructions from your friends. You have a small group chat with them but Price and Ghost were busy doing other stuff. So Kyle and Johnny were left to take charge. Kyle suggested hiding and waiting until she left. Johnny said to see what she wants.

Y/N: what do I say if she sees me?

K: Be nice.

J: mess with her!

The texts came at the same time. Then Johnny sent another.

J: Record it too!

Your phone is recording audio, as you simply stand there waiting for the socialite to start talking.

“Sorry do you know who lives here?” She asks you.

“Yep.” You say. There’s a pause as you just stare at her.

“Um, is the landlord here today? I need to talk to him about this apartment. I was told it’s going up for sale.”

“No it‘s not and no you weren’t.” You say with a slight smirk.

“I’m sorry?” She asks sounding irritated.

“Do you want to take a look around? Seriously it ain’t impressive.” You say walking up to her casually and unlocking the door. She steps back as if you were dog rushing up to bark at her. You step inside and hold the door open for her.

“Still occupied, sorry. But it’s the same as every other apartment if you’re interested in moving in. Come in I don’t mind.” You leave the view of the door frame and go to the kitchen, setting your bag down in the corner. Milena can do plenty, but this is your own personal turf.

“Want a drink?” You ask, opening the fridge, and your garbage. Good thing you stopped by to grab stuff, the last thing you want is a mushroom farm in your fridge.

“Coffee or something stronger.” she says, absently surveying your unit.

“Uh… sorry don’t really have… cider okay?” You ask tossing another expired container into the bin.

“It’ll do.” She says, sitting in one of the chairs in the living room as if it were her own office. You shrug it off and get her a can of cider. Oh shit you forgot you had those. Definitely need to take those back with you for a personal pleasure. Hopefully none of them liked popping boba.

“So uh…” you start as you close the fridge. “You trying to evict me? Like the homes down in the south east neighbourhood?”

Milena looks up at you with wild eyes as you hand her the drink as if you found her diary.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She says taking the drink, eyeing the tab.

“New manicure? Here.” You take the drink from her and open it. “So what’s up.”

“I came to give you an invitation to a party.” She says offering you an envelope. You take it and look it over before looking at her.

“How old are you?” You ask.

“Excuse me?” She says offended. Damn she was easy.

“Milena Romanova, realtor and socialite. You make a lot of money in real estate and land deals. Land deals that don’t land the same money you do. Must be good.” Milena looks ticked.

“Now you’re funding the police, making friendly donations and spending time with the chief commissioner.”

“What are y-“

“Just making small talk. A couple guys I know from the precinct told me you guys are dating.” You say reclining on your old sofa, as if it were a throne. Milena doesn’t know what to make of you. You are certainly…different.

“My love life is my own.” Milena states. You shrug. “The invitation is for an event, inviting a few large names from the city. I understand you’re an aspiring artist.”

“Something like that.” You admit. Hopefully she hadn’t seen your most recent work. It may or may not have involved her posing on houses with… unmentionables spilling out the windows.

“I believe this could be a great opportunity for you. I know plenty of large names and often have art showcased at open houses.”

“Not sure I have the money to afford a nice outfit.” You say.

“If you’d like I could buy a couple of your pieces to cover costs. Of course it’s your choice.” She offers. She stands without you giving an answer, and leaving the open untouched can of cider on the coffee table along with the invitation.

“I have places to be. I hope to see you there.” She says going to the door. Milena steps out but turns to address you.

“I should mention, the chief commissioner has been looking for you. I think he’d like to get to know you more. If you don’t mind I’ll let him know where he can find you.” And without another word, she shuts the door. The room is silent. All you hear is the sound of the carbonation from Milena’s open cider. You take the cider and take a swig before getting to work.

Then you hear a noise from one of the rooms. You keep your phone recording, and go to your bag taking out your gun. You keep it pointed to the ground as you get closer to the closed door. You put a hand on the knob before shoving it open aiming the gun at the intruder.

“You mother fucker!” You shout.

“I can explain.” Graves says.

“Like hell you can.” You say. “Also my bedroom, seriously? This is a whole new level of creepy.”

“Thank you I try.” Graves puts sarcastically. “I came to leave you a note, I assumed you’d return. I wanted to warn you about Makarov but… you just had tea time with Milena.”

“Hardly tea time, she didn’t drink anything.” You say. “She follow you?”

“I hope not. Just in case don’t leave for a few hours.” Graves says. You nod understanding. “Stupid question but why are you here?”

“Came to pick up extra stuff.” You say going around him and getting the duffle bag from your closet. You start packing, and your hoodie sleeve slides up again. Graves notices.

“Who grabbed you… or are you and the boys of the 141 getting clo-“ Graves stops the question after you glare at him. “Teasing.”

“…Nolan grabbed me. I don’t know his last name.” You admit. You haven’t told anyone else.

“Does Price know?” He asks. You shrug and focus on packing extra clothes, before going to the bathroom to grab some extra supplies. Graves is quiet.

“You gonna go to the party?” He asks.

“Haven’t decided.” You say.

“Let me know if you want a ride.” He offers. “Take it Milena hasn’t seen your recent work. Hoo boy that’s some slander.”

You look at him, incredulous. “You saw nothing.”

“I saw works of art, and have no clue where they came from.” Graves says raising his hands. You smile a little but he doesn’t get to see it.

“How are you doing?” Graves asks. “You eating okay? Sleeping well?”

“The guys take good care of me.” You say coming back to the bag with a couple of items. You look around the room to see if you’re missing anything else.

“He’s getting close.” Graves says. “Makarov keeps asking me about you, and I’m giving him what I can without putting either of us at risk.”

“I need a favour.” You admit. Graves raises an eyebrow. “There’s a raid planned. The… a gang went to the docks a while ago trying to take down a drug shipment, but the drugs were protected. I know when the next raid will happen, and if you’re there you can look further into it.”

Graves stands there, admittedly surprised. You were giving him a lead, one to Makarov sure, but one that could get the others in shit.

“Send a tip to the station, make sure it comes to me and only me ya got that.” He instructs. You nod.

“Thank you.” You say. Graves gives a nod, and it’s an awkward silence. Graves looks at your wrist again.

“He grab you anywhere else?” He asks calmly. You rub your arm, and Graves sighs. Without warning he holds your shoulders, before pulling you into a hug. It’s oddly nice. A comfort. You can’t talk to Graves much but right now, you feel like you could spill your guts and he would listen.

“You stay safe kiddo.” He says quietly, not expecting you to hear it. You do. And you just squeeze a little tighter. He lets you go, looking down at you. Graves is about to say something but stops himself.

“Chill here, call a ride, go home.” He says. You nod and after a final good bye he walks out into the night.

Milena came over to Makarov’s home, greeting him with a kind smile.

“They’re all sent out?” He asks.

“Of course.” She says.

“Now we wait.” Makarov says. “The pieces will fall where they need to.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz @dcnocap207

[yourtamaki]

history doesn’t repeat, it rhymes

sakusa x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, elements of depersonalization, non-explicit mentions of sex

dedicated to: @onyxoverride (thank you for beta reading) & @saintdabi

you can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection.

it wasn’t deliberate, the way you turned your back to the full length mirror in your closet every morning when you got dressed, how you usually dodged your reflection coming out of the shower like you did just now. at least, not at first. not until you realized how much better you felt now that you didn’t have to come face to face with a stranger everyday. that was the only word to describe whatever lived in the mirror. a stranger. any recognizable part of you had rotted away long ago. all that remained now was an empty husk with dead eyes and a selfish heart. the same selfish heart that set you on this path in the first place. 

was it worth it? you wanted to ask your past self. was his love worth what you did to yourself?

the very first night you met sakusa set the tone for the rest of your relationship. you’re still not entirely sure why you accepted your roommate, hinata’s, invitation to his team’s party to celebrate their record win streak. it probably had something to do with the puppy dog eyes he threw you. regardless, you went, wearing an outfit you were losing confidence in by the second and leaning against a wall as far from the drunk crowd as you could get. you never liked parties like this. too many people, too loud. but for your best friend, you were willing to grit your teeth and bare it. 

a part of you, larger than you would ever admit, wishes you never looked to your left that day. wishes that you never spotted the curly haired man looking so sullen despite half his face being covered with a mask, that you didn’t notice the way his eyes flickered from his empty red cup to where you knew the kitchen to be, how he wearily eyed the crowd of people that separated him from it. 

“i was about to grab a drink. i can bring something back for you if you’d like?” the first thing you ever said to the love of your life was a lie. you were planning on staying tucked in your corner all night, safe from the dancing drunks who had no concept of personal space until hinata was ready to leave. and yet the words were almost ripped out of you the moment your eyes landed on him, a fierce need to help the man flaring up from nowhere. you could only assume he had separated himself from the party for the same reason you had and it pulled on your heartstrings. no one ever noticed when you needed help so why not extend that courtesy to him instead? he blinked at you as though he had to process your offer before he nodded. 

“yes, please i’d appreciate it.” his voice was different than you expected it to be. slow and calm despite the way his fist clenched and unclenched.  “just water. a closed bottle if you can find it.” 

his brows furrowed for a moment when you held out your hand before letting out a quiet ah and handing you his empty cup. it was endearing how he placed it in your hand, balancing it carefully on your palm. 

“be right back.” you shot him a smile and started to make your way across the floor, getting pushed and jostled the entire way there. you made quick work of tossing the garbage into the overflowing trash bag and dug out two water bottles from behind a rack of beer cans in the fridge. the trip back was no easier and you breathed a sigh of relief when you were once again in your small private bubble with the man. the discomfort you endured, the skin crawling sensation of all those bodies too close to you was worth the way his eyes lit up when he saw you’d returned. 

he accepted the cool bottle with a murmured thanks, pulling his mask down and tucking it under his chin. handsome was your first thought and his name was your second. the two distinct moles on his brow should’ve given it away that you were talking to sakusa kiyoomi. you’d seen enough of hinata’s games, heard enough stories to put a name to the face. he held your stare as you placed him in your mind, taking a sip from the bottle as he did. an urge to say something, anything to keep those eyes on you bubbled up hot and fast and you said the first thing that came to mind. 

“my roommate’s your teammate.” 

“is he? which one?” 

“hinata. shoyo.” you added as though there was another hinata on the msby roster.

“ah. my condolences.” the corner of his lips quirked up when you snorted. “i’ve seen how he leaves a locker room. i don’t want to imagine what his room looks like.” 

“it’s not pretty, that’s for sure.” you said, leaning your shoulder against the wall and taking a moment to regard him. “can i ask why you’re here? shoyo told me you don’t like crowds so a party must be hard on you.” 

“would you believe me if i said contractual obligations?” 

“nope cause i helped shoyo go through his contract and i don’t remember ragers being a part of the deal.” a small burst of pride bloomed in your chest when he laughed, a quick huff from his nose and amused eyes as though he didn’t expect it. 

“you got me.” you waited for him to explain and deflated a bit when he remained silent. that is, until you followed where his eyes had wandered. it was easy to spot hinata from across the party. he sat high above the rest of the crowd on bokuto’s shoulders, leaning back occasionally to test bokuto’s reaction time and giggling every time he was caught at the last moment. meian was trying in vain to pull the ginger down while atsumu seemed to be on facetime with someone recording the whole thing, his loud laughter ringing out clearly over the music. 

“you’re here for them?” you said just as the realization dawned on you. sakusa twitched, so small you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been watching him so closely. 

“spending time with your teammates promotes better gameplay on the court.” 

“i’m sure it does. but wanting to hang out with your friends isn’t a crime.” 

“we are hanging out. i’m here, aren’t i? if they wanted to talk to me, they know where to find me.” the bitterness in his tone wasn’t enough to mask the acceptance behind his words, of being resigned to his fate as the forgotten one. 

“well, i found you.” he looked over at you, something unreadable swimming behind his eyes before they softened.

“yeah. you did. you know, you’ve talked a lot about shoyo but i don’t know anything about you. i don’t even know your name.” he said. heat raced to your cheeks, flustered that he seemed to be paying as much attention to you that you were to him.

“i didn’t even notice, sorry.” you said before offering your name. he repeated it back, once, twice, rolling it around on his tongue and you watched his mouth, mesmerized by how it curled around a word you’ve heard your whole life until it sounded new again. he spoke your name in a soft, hushed whisper and you wondered if his lips would feel just as soft. half-lidded, his gaze flickered downwards like he was wondering the same thing.

the rest of the night was a blur in your mind. all you could recall was that you chatted with sakusa until the others found you and you drove a passed-out hinata home with a new contact saved to your phone.  

the reminiscing left you drained, clutching your phone in your hands, the screen frozen on that same contact as you collapsed into bed and yet you couldn’t stop the rest of the memories from flooding through your mind, the truth you’ve been holding off for too long. you’ve picked at a festering wound that was best left alone. if you didn’t think too hard about it, if you ignored how it grew and ate away at you, it wouldn’t hurt as much. right? but it was too late. you’ve pulled the string and now you’re left to deal with your own unraveling. 

you scrolled through your texts for what feels like a lifetime, the entirety of your relationship flashing by and disappearing in an instant until you could scroll no higher. of course you sent the first text. a formal message that didn’t look anything like how you actually text with one too many exclamation points in your desperation to come across friendly. 

your fingers moved across the screen and when your mind caught up, your thumb was hovering over the button to delete the entire conversation. you never wanted to see evidence of who you used to be ever again. you didn’t want to be reminded of the person you cut and broke and killed until they fit into sakusa’s neat life. but sentimentality stilled your hand, the phone dropping from your limp fingers and crashing to the floor. you didn’t bother reaching for it.

the accursed memories refuse to let you be, another bobbing up to the surface from the murky depths and pulling you under before you could stop it. one that showed what little agency you had in your own life.

it started the way it always did. you noticed him. noticed how tired he was every time you spoke. how you went from going out on dates to always staying in to maybe being lucky enough to say good night over the phone before he crashed for the day. and sure, you were lonely. so starved for him it ached. but that was overshadowed by your worry for him. you would lay awake wondering if he’d remember to eat that day, if he had the energy to clean his apartment and if he didn’t, how much was that adding to his stress? 

so you swung by his place the next morning after he had left for practice, spent the day cleaning, restocked his fridge and were nearly done making dinner when he returned. his exhaustion was truly hammered home when he walked straight past the kitchen on autopilot before doubling back, tilting his head at you in confusion. 

“what are you doing here, darling?” 

“helping out.” you turned back to the stove and busied yourself with mindless stirring, afraid that you’d been too eager and overstepped. “you seemed pretty tired these days so i wanted to do something for you but you’re back earlier than i expected so i can just go if you want to be alone just let me-” 

your rambling was cut off when a force barrelled into you and sakusa hugged you tight from behind, head buried in the crook of your shoulder. all at once, whatever anxiety had been growing fled you and you relaxed into his touch. 

“thank you.” it wasn’t the words that made your heart leap to your throat. it was the sincerity, the slight crack at the end that told you he had more he wanted to say but didn’t know how. 

you fell into a routine of going over to his apartment, looking after things, kissing him when he returned and staying over at night. at first, it was once a week. then over the weekend, then every other day. 

“you should move in.” even though you half expected your relationship to take this next step, it still took you by surprise the casual way sakusa brought it up. you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to move in with him just yet. you built a home with hinata and that apartment meant everything to you, all your happiest memories were made there and oh no sakusa was still waiting for an answer.  

“i should?”

“yeah.” 

and that was the end of it. you were packed and out of hinata’s apartment (because it was his now. his and atsumu’s. not yours, it’ll never be yours again) by the end of the month. most of your things didn’t come with you but that was fine, right? so what if you still felt like a guest in your home even to this day with none of yourself being reflected in the apartment? you got to wake up to see the love of your life every day and that made everything worth it. 

until you started waking up alone.  

extra training, he said. the team drafted new players and he had to get used to their play style, he said. and you believed him, trusted that he’d be home with you if he could. so you took the crushing loneliness and swallowed it down like a bitter pill. you smiled wide when he came home late with only the moon to light your bedroom and let him use your body to rid the stress of the day.

the dead of night was the only time you’d have him all to yourself. you could be greedy for his attention when he was buried inside you. it was easy to pretend you clawed up and down his back because you were caught up in the moment and not because you were desperate to keep him close to you. easy to pretend the tears in your eyes were from pleasure and not from how much you missed his voice. 

and when he was empty and spent, you would stroke his hair until he fell asleep and then, only then, would you whisper all the things you couldn’t tell him during the day. small, meaningless anecdotes that you knew would earn you a wry smile if he was awake to hear them, the one he used when he didn’t want to let on how close he was to laughing. the stolen moments were a salve on your fractured heart but it was never enough to heal it. in the end, when you were once again alone in your too-wide bed, it only served to remind you just how deep the cracks were. 

maybe that’s where you went wrong. you gave away your heart to someone and got nothing in return, nothing to plug up the all-consuming void in your chest. there was nothing left of you. no, that wasn’t quite true. there was nothing good left of you. you gave him your best parts and all you had now was pure resentment that burned hot and fierce in your core, so acidic it ate everything in its path. it burned away the dredges of your soul until all you could do was allow it to climb up and scorch your throat in a silent scream. 

another memory. it’s strange what your brain chose to latch onto as you spiralled. on the surface, you remember this to be a happier time. but as it overtook you, you’re reminded almost violently that the edges of this memory are stained with the early decay of your identity. 

before the early mornings and late nights, before you got into the habit of staring at your ceiling and wondering how you got to that point, you and sakusa had a tradition. you’d both find something, a story, a movie, that you think the other doesn’t know and share it with them. that day sakusa came to you with the myth of orpheus and eurydice. 

he told you the story of a man so in love with his wife he journeys to the underworld after she dies to find her, how hades tells him he can guide her to the land of the living but orpheus must trust that eurydice is following him. if he turns around, eurydice’s fate is sealed. sakusa explained how in every version of the myth, orpheus turned around at the very end out of an uncontrollable, unfiltered love for his wife. whether it was because he was excited to see the end of the tunnel and wanted to share his joy with her or because he feared she got lost, either one stems from the love he has for her. the love that sent him to find her is the same love that doomed her in the end. but the more sakusa spoke about orpheus, the more you wondered about the other protagonist of the story. 

“why didn’t eurydice try to let orpheus know she was there? she could’ve held his hand or touched his back or something.” you asked. you were laying your head on sakusa’s chest, letting the low rumble wash over you as he read you the tale. the question had been bugging you as the story came to its conclusion though you couldn’t place your finger as to why.

“she was a spirit. she would pass right through him.” 

“yeah but…” you searched for the words to explain your confusion. “she didn’t even try.” 

“it wouldn’t have mattered either way.” 

you opened your mouth to press the issue further, too stubborn to let it go just yet when you heard sakusa sigh out of his nose. it was enough for any question to die on your tongue and all that came out was a quiet, “i guess so.” 

it was a nothing memory. an empty thing to remind you of better times that you’ve had no need to look back on. so why did that moment swirl around your head now, as you crumbled in your lowest moments? scattered pieces start to form together in the recesses of your mind but before you could call them forth to make a full image, the bedroom door swung open and sakusa walked in. 

for once, you don’t slip on your well worn porcelain mask. you don’t school your expression and force it to mold into something that couldn’t quite be called happy. instead, you sat up straight in bed, held his gaze and did nothing to hide the maelstrom of hurt that raged inside you. a sick satisfaction shot through your veins when his steps faltered at the force of your stare. 

“what’s wrong?” he asked. 

what isn’t? you thought but instead said, “nothing. i was just thinking. about us.” 

“oh.” his eyes are already sliding away from you, a quiet detachment in his voice that made you grind your teeth in frustration. 

“remember that greek story you told me about?” 

“mhmm.” 

“tell me again why eurydice didn’t reach out.” there it is again. a short, sharp exhale from his nose. he opened his mouth but you spoke before he could. “humour me.”

“she was dead, darling. she couldn’t touch him, he couldn’t hear her so there was no point.” 

“no point? there was no point in trying to tell orpheus that she was behind him? he climbed into the underworld for her and she couldn’t try?” 

“could you--?” he cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “it’s late. i’m exhausted and really not in the mood so can we go to bed?” 

“doesn’t that sound familiar?” you continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “one person bending heaven and hell for the person they love while the other can’t even meet them halfway. remind you of anything?” 

now you had his full attention. his brows scrunched together and you’re not sure if he’s trying to figure out the meaning behind your words or the reason for your hostile tone. you don’t feel like helping him out either and instead watched the gears turn in his head with something akin to glee. it’s his turn to be paranoid, to overthink, to pick apart every moment of your relationship and dissect it piece by rotted piece. 

“please don’t be vague. if you’re upset with me, tell me.” it was the most emotion you’ve heard from him in so long, you were taken aback for a moment. 

“i’m a bit past ‘upset’, omi.”

“i’m sorry.”

you scoffed. “you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” 

“you’re hurt and it’s my fault. that's enough for me to say sorry.” 

“you don’t understand.” he crossed the room in three large strides, sitting on the edge of the bed to leave space between you. 

“then help me understand.” 

you floundered for the right words to explain the mountain of revelations you’ve uncovered and settled for, “how do i take my coffee, kiyoomi?” 

he took your use of his full name in stride. “black. one sugar.” 

“no that’s how you take your coffee. that’s the only way you ever make coffee. i had to learn to like it.” 

“what, you’re mad i don’t know how you like your coffee?” you know he didn’t mean anything by it, that’s he's always been more blunt that he means to be but it doesn’t stop you from feeling patronized and the hurt loosened your tongue. 

“it’s not about the coffee! it’s not about the fact that eurydice was a ghost. it’s the effort, omi. you haven’t put an ounce of effort into this relationship. i’m the one who has to bend. i’m the one that has to change, it’s never you.” 

“i never asked you to.” the truth of the statement knocked the air out of your lungs. because that's the worst part, isn’t it? you have no one to blame your misery on but yourself. 

“i don’t know how to love you without sacrificing pieces of myself. and i’m empty, kiyoomi, i've given you all of me. and it feels like you’ve given me nothing in return.”  

his head was bowed while he listened but from how tight he laced his fingers together, you know he was fighting to stay calm. “you know i love you, right?”

“do you? do you love me or love that i’m convenient? love that i clean your place and make you food and have a hole you can--” 

“stop.” you didn’t know it was possible for so much heartbreak to be packed into a single word. it sobered you of your venom and in its place, shame came rushing in. 

“i’m sorry. i'm pissed at myself for letting it get this far and i’m taking it out on you. i don’t regret loving you. but it feels like that’s the only thing living inside me. like i’m not even a person anymore.”

“i should’ve noticed. it shouldn’t have taken you snapping for me to realize what was going on.” 

“maybe.” 

silence, suffocating silence, stretched and morphed time until it felt like you’ve aged a decade in a moment. and then sakusa spoke.

“you’ll help a stranger just because they look like they might need it and ask for nothing in return. you’ll make someone food just so you can be sure they ate that day. you’ll tell me about your day while i fall asleep and i don’t think i could sleep without hearing your voice. you’re kind and too selfless for your own good and the best person i’ve ever met. it kills me that i’ve been the cause of your pain.”

it was strange hearing those traits spun in a good light when you’ve thought of them negatively for so long. strange knowing where you saw faults he saw things worth admiring. “you hear me at night?” 

“and you like focusing on minor details. yes, darling. every night.” 

“oh.” 

“i understand if you need… space, if you want to spend some time apart. but give me a chance. please. give me a chance to prove how important you are to me. i’m sorry that i’ve failed you. i’m sorry i've been taking you for granted. but that ends now. never again. 

“and i can help you, too. i can remind you of all the parts you say you’ve lost. i’ll tell you all about the person i fell in love with everyday if you need it. i’d never run out of things to say. please. you found me once, let me return the favour and help you find yourself. if-if you’ll have me.” 

his small speech wasn’t the reason tears stung the back of your eyes. as he finished speaking, sakusa reached out across the space between you and offered you his hand. a lifeline that you took, the lump in your throat to keeping everything you wanted to say stuck inside you. thankfully, you needed no words for sakusa to understand you. he brought your joined fingers to his lips and let out a shaky breath against them. the two of you stayed like that for a small eternity, drifted apart yet holding together with a bridge to link you. you’ve been fueled by resentment and anger for so long, you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to let them go. but you did know that you didn’t want to try without him by your side. 

[binnieboyswhore]

SKZ AS...

Stray Kids as receiving a blowjob Pairing: Skz x Reader Genre: smut Word count: 1,994 Warnings: Oral (m receiving) and face fucking, if there’s anything else i need to add please let me know! Authors note: This is kinda garbage but also i love it so much. I also just love seungmins so much cause i often think about it too much lol anyways further a do here it is. (also if you can write in korean and know korean please DM me i’m trying to get a skz tattoo but do not trust google translate in the slightest)

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

Chan: 

Getting in studio blowjobs was one of Chan's favorite things. He’d always be the one to ask, with his puppy dog eyes he’d complain how horny he is and how if you hadn’t worn such a short skirt he wouldn’t feel this way. He’d complain how well, technically TECHNICALLY you made him this horny as you are the root of this problem you should be the one to take care of it. Eventually you give in and get on your knees for him constantly playing the big doe eye angle with his dick in your mouth making him lose his mind. You watch as he squirms trying to continue mixing songs with one hand while holding onto the chairs armrest with his other. He’s an absolute slut when you focus on the head of his cock so that he has enough time to tell you and release on your face, his favorite place, with your tongue sticking out. He’d also be an angel and clean your face off with a tissue while kissing you and mumbling what a good girl you were.  

Minho: 

You and Minho always had a voyeuristic relationship never shying away from a bit of public sex but when you reached your hands down into his pants in front of his hyung at dinner and continued to tease him he knew he had to put you in your place. He’d give you a deadly side glare that only fed into the pumping of your hand around him. He would excuse himself from the table for a second and as he was just out of sight your phone would go off and you’d scurry off after him making a quick excuse for the table. As soon as you make it behind the door he has you on your knees slipping his throbbing cock between your lips. Rutting his hips into your face not caring about the speed. Essentially he’s face fucking you in the middle of the mens restroom and neither of you could care less. He watches as your mascara runs down your face cooing at how gorgeous you looked with your mouth stuffed full of him. He grips your hair as he cums down your throat then tells you to meet him at the car after you clean your face and goes to tell the boys you felt sick. You were in for a long night of being put in your place.

Changbin: 

Changbin would come home in a rage, something about someone not listening to him during rehearsals or something. He’d just be fuming with no way to let it out so he just rants and rants to with clench fists. You have him sit on the couch as he keeps going on and on while you get on your knees between his legs, shaking your head and agreeing with his anger. You take out his member and slowly start to pump him and his ranting slows down and his moans become more frequent. He slides his hand into your hair so he has some control over your movements. You slide him into your mouth gagging as he moves his hips a bit. He looks down apologetically and you just take him further in your mouth, you allow him to take control using your head and his hips to get himself off. He watches as spit falls out of the sides of your mouth and your tears leaving mascara tracks down your cheeks. Seeing how wrecked you are with his cock in your mouth he can’t help but let himself release down your throat. When he removes himself he pulls you onto his lap whipping away your drool and tears very lightly before giving you a sweet kiss as a thank you.

Hyunjin: 

Hyunjin has been busy working on some lyrics or some new dance moves for stray kids and you couldn’t care less. The more attention he gave to his work meant less attention for you and you well you were feeling extra needy since being abandoned by your boyfriend. You stand behind his chair, your arms wrapped around his shoulders watching him work as you kissed his neck and nibbled at his ear. He hadn’t said anything about it while occasionally leaving little kisses on your arms. You were growing irritated at how  he was just blatantly ignoring your neediness. You whisper little things in his ear and he just tells you later and that he’s busy right now. You stand behind him weighing your options. You can either wait and see if he follows through or you can take control here and seeing as he needs a break anyways you choose the latter. You make camp between his legs and put your head in front of his desk so that he couldn’t not see you. He smiles down at you with all the love in his heart and you explain how he needs a break anyways. He finally leans back and let’s you do your thing as he holds on to the armrest of his chair constantly cooing how beautiful you look when you take him like that. He begins to get whiny when he’s about to come so you take your mouth off his full length paying attention to just the tips and he moves your hands away so he can pump himself and finally release all over your chest. He’d watch as you take your fingers swiping up his release and slowly licking it off, his eyes grow darker and as he shuts his laptop you scurry off to the bedroom with him not too far behind you excited to finally have your Hyunjin back.

Han: 

An empty movie theater would be the perfect place for a Jisung blowjob. It wouldn’t take much to convince him either, you’d just have to say well since no one is here and then the sound of his zipper meets your ears. You grin from ear to ear as you reach your hand over the shared arm rest, Jisung letting out quite whimpers. When he was hard enough you bent over the armrest and started moving your head at a rather fast pace as you started to grow nervous of getting caught. You added your hand to jerk off what part of his shaft wouldn’t fit in your mouth and soon he was pulling at your hair and whispering that he was about to come. As he releases in your mouth he bends over his chest hitting the back of your head causing him to go further in your throat and making you gag. Your throat tightens around his already sensitive member causing him to let out a bit louder whine and that’s when someone from the front room sat up and looked back to try to figure out what was happening. Jisung and you look at each other in shock and embarrassment as you both thought the place was completely empty

Felix: 

You guys would be backstage at some show waiting for stray kids turn to go on stage and poor Felix, the worst part for Felix wasn’t the performance, it was the waiting, the anticipation. He would constantly get in his own head with the what if’s and shut down and get real quiet. You quickly noticed this process happening and grabbed his hand trying to help calm his nerves but when that didn’t work you looked down at your watch noticing you had enough time. You kissed below his ear pulling him out of his head space for a second then whispered to meet you in the bathroom. He walks in with a confused look as you turn to lock the door really fast, you get on your knees hooking your fingers into his waistband and explaining that you’d help him relax. He’d agree almost immediately, i mean he’d get out of his hand and have your pretty lips around him? Win win. He’d mostly stand there holding his shirt up so it won’t get in your way as you held onto the back of his thighs using it as leverage to force your mouth down his length, the eye contact between you two never wavering. He fed off the intense eye contact only breaking for seconds at a time to watch as you took his length so well, only gagging when he used his hips. You fed off his tiny moans and how he tried so hard to keep his eyes open to stare you down. He’d come in your mouth just because you guys did have to go back out but in his head he came all over your breasts. By the time he got back to the boys he had to go on stage and he was out of his own head all thanks to you and that magical mouth.

Seungmin: 

I can see Minnie saying yes to a blowjob while he’s driving like homeboy thinks it’s so hot to do things you’re not supposed to do. Like you guys would be stuck in standstill traffic and with nothing else to do and you’d just have to ask him once and he’d start unbuttoning his pants. He’d gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail and let you do your thing. Your thing including everything from licking him up the bottom of his shaft to suck your cheeks in when you got near the head of his cock. He’d try to control you in little ways like holding your head still periodically, scared you might try to pull something while he moves the car little by little through traffic. He’d let little moans and whimpers slip past his lips trying his hardest to not make it completely obvious to those around him what was happening inside his small car.  He’d eventually come down your throat as he hits the brake a little too hard, shoving himself down your throat and you can’t help but moan at the new depth. He’d let a rather loud strained moan out as he holds your hair in his grip. He’d also beg for a kiss from you wanting to taste himself off your mouth and yes it would be the hottest thing you’ve ever done.

IN: 

Jeongin loved nothing more than to finally get out of the dorms and stay the night at your apartment, getting away from the boys and their constant babying towards him to seeing you and kissing you whenever he wanted. After staying up all night catching up on what the other has been doing all week you both passed out without even an I love you in exchange. When you woke up, your body curled into Jeongin like a perfect puzzle piece. That was until you felt him poking your lower back. You smiled to yourself rolling over and peppering his face in soft kisses to wake him, he smiles at you grunting at you. When you make a comment about what he must’ve been dreaming about his eyes burst open and his cheeks redden but you kiss it away assuring him that you’d take care of it. You crawl under the blankets but not without a little protest from Jeongin saying you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to but you wanted to more than anything. You take your time with him seeing as it was morning you didn’t want to over stimulate him in any way and hurt him. You can hear his little moans from under the cover as you lick a thick strip on the vein on the underside of his cock. You take your time kissing him and just appreciating him and he enjoys it so much that when he actually comes it takes him by surprise and it’s the hardest he’s ever come. After he would have the cutest fucked out smile wanting nothing more than to just kiss you all over your face and return the favor.  

[cinnamonrusts]

sparda twins -- reactions

The Sparda twins reactions that you're pregnant with not just one, but two of their children.

DANTE-

You paced the bathroom several times as you gnawed on your thumbnail. Your eyes did not leave the plastic stick that was sitting on the edge of the sink near the toilet. The packaging read that results would be ready in five minutes, but the wait had it feeling like five hours.

Dante had left on a run for some take out and you knew that it was all the way across town, so it left you some free time to figure out your "little" situation. You hadn't told him anything. How could you? The two of you were not in an exactly "family friendly" business. Last thing Dante would need to worry about was a mini Sparda.

You had enough of waiting and snatched the test from the counter. Your eyes narrowed as they fixated on the single horizontal pink line, but widened when it turned into a plus. The blood in your body ran cold and your throat grew dry. It was as if the + sign mocked you and your stomach felt sick. You knew it would happen, Dante called himself the pull out king. Yeah - fucking - right, and this proved him to be very wrong.

The evidence needed to be disposed of, so you wrapped it several times in some toilet paper and shoved it in the trash can. Dante hardly took the trash out and it would be unlikely that he would decide to scour the garbage, so you felt safe. Now all you would have to do is just keep it a secret until you decided how to approach it.

It didn't last long and soon Nico was on the other end of the phone. She let out a happy, "'Eller!" but was greeted by a loud sob along with unintelligible babble. "Woah! Woah! [Y/N], you gotta repeat yourself. I couldn't make out a damn thing! You okay?" the brunette asked, concerned. "I'M PREGNANT!" your sobs now made sense. "Oh, shit," she replied. "Yeah, oh shit is right."

"Did you tell Dante yet?"

You scoffed, "No. I don't think I can," as you spoke on the phone in the kitchen, your eyes fixed on a photo on the fridge of you and your devil hunter boyfriend. The two of you looked so happy and Dante's smile was so bright, the vibes that radiated from the picture kind of gave you some assurance. Maybe Dante would react well to the news and maybe he'd give the same smile of glee at the idea of being a father.

"But you're going to have to at some point. How you goin' to explain a giant belly here in a few months?" Nico was right, there was no way around it. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tight, "Could you maybe -- I dunno, take me to the doctor?" Nico replied, "I'll be there in a jiff!"

Just as you hung up, Dante walked in with two large bags that smelled of Chinese food. "Food is here and beer is in the fridge!" he waddled into the kitchen and his happy expression turned to one of concern when he noticed you looked upset. "Hey, darlin', you alright?" he set the bags down on the floor and slid to your side, his arms around your waist. His musk along with the heavy smell of greasy Chinese food almost threw you over the edge and caused you to gag. You placed your hand on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. His brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was wrong but the loud horn of Nico's van interrupted. "I'm going out with Nico. I'll be back," you brushed past him, grabbed your coat, and dashed out the door.

You were able to take a breath once you jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Your head rested on the back of the seat and your eyes closed, "Thanks for the ride." Nico placed a hand on your thigh and nodded, "No problem, girlfriend."

Several hours passed and you weren't home yet. Dante's mind raced with different things he could've done to make you so upset. Was it because he hadn't taken the trash out? He would do that soon. Was it because he hadn't shown his appreciation for you relationship lately? He would go tonight to get you some flowers. So, the man did just that. Dante took the overflowed trash out. Then he made sure to hurry, so, that he would be home before you. Dante chose a bouquet of white roses and a goofy card. The card had two hot dogs on the front who held hands with smiles on their faces. It read, "Hot dog! You make me happy!" Dante got a kick out of it and figured you would too. The devil hunter wrote a quick, cheesy blurb in a scribbled mess and signed with his name plus a heart.

He opened the door and was surprised to see you in a chair near the entrance. You seemed to be in a trance and were startled by Dante’s sudden appearance. “I got you these!” he handed his gifts over but his happiness was dropped when you didn’t seem very happy to receive them.

“Dante, I have something I need to tell you.” you found it hard to keep your eyes on his. “Well, here it goes---,” your nose inhaled, then exhaled deeply, “I’m pregnant.”

Dante’s face was void of emotion before he burst into laughter. You grew angry and your facial expressions matched it. “That’s a good one, babe. Whew!,” he clapped his hands and winced a bit with his hand on his side, “Ow! That laugh made me pull a muscle.”

“I’m serious, Dante. I’m pregnant.” you reiterated. “With --- emotion?” he asked as his eyes shifted side to side.

“What? No! With a baby!”

Once Dante heard it for the third time, he realized it all. He was going to be a father and you were going to be the one who would usher in another lineage of the Sparda bloodline. Dante rushed to your side and took a knee as he kneeled beside you. His palm immediately made its way to your stomach as he pictured the life that was within. “Hey there, little buddy.” You cleared your throat into a closed fist which drew his attention to your face. Your right hand raised slowly and you twiddled your two first fingers in the air with a small smile.

That same grin that shined in the photo on your fridge grew across his lips. Both of his hands grabbed either side of your lower torso and he stared at your stomach. “You mean, there’s two of me in there?!” His expressions were warm and overjoyed, relief crashed over you as this situation turned out better than you thought. 

“I’m gonna really need to get outta debt.”

VERGIL-

Your body spoke to you and told you that something was going on. Every morning you felt ill and you could devour anything in sight until nausea overtook you. Lady asked if there was any possibility that you could be pregnant. A snort left your nostrils, “Impossible. Vergil and I don’t have sex enough for that to happen.” your mate was normally not home, you often slept in an empty bed more than one occupied by his strong body. But anytime he was, the act of intimacy could tear the walls down of his brother’s building. He was a focused and controlled man, he knew what he needed to do to prevent another child in his life. You were okay with that, your job was not one that was prime for being a parent. So, there was no doubt in your mind that this was nothing but a simple stomach bug.

“I don’t know, all your symptoms point to it, [Y/N]. Maybe you should take a test,” she attempted to reason with you and you eventually gave in.

The entire time you played it off as just something you did for Lady so that she would get off your back about it. You sat on the closed toilet lid and held the test loosely in between your fingers. The box read that it would take about ten minutes for a result, so you avoided looking at it until roughly around that. But your heart dropped into your stomach when the test did not read negative, but positive. “Shit --- Lady was right.” your cursed and your head dropped between your knees as your mind raced.

Vergil just found out that he had a son, Nero, and now you would throw him the information that he would have now an infant on the way. It was a conversation that you did not want to have. Vergil was a reserved man who did not show you his emotions often or expressed them publicly. You knew he loved you but it took quite sometime for him to open up to you about the fact. He put back his one track set mind toward power and made you a priority in his life. However, he had issues with being around his brother, son, and the other’s -- so he often went off on his own. You learned that this was something he wanted and you did not want to force yourself to go with him always. 

So, this news would not be easy to break to him when he would return in about a week. With the test clenched in your hand, you opened the door to leave the bathroom to only be greeted by Lady who was leaned against the walls with arms crossed. “So, what’s the prognosis?” she pushed herself from the wall and followed you as you pushed past her. You tossed the test into the air with your fingers and she caught it, “What do you think?” you answered before she was able to see for herself. The female was shocked to see that she was correct but didn’t want to say that she told you so.

You were about to slam your room door shut but her boot stopped it, “What’re you going to tell Vergil?” Your back was turned toward her and you faced the window as you observed the rain that pattered against the window. “Fuck if I know. How do you tell someone like him that he’s going to be a father... again.” Lady was silent, you turned on your heels to face her, “Exactly.”

Lady took your hand in hers and gave you a comforting smile, “Hey, he won’t be home for like what-- another week? Let’s get you to the doctor, we’ll figure something out.” You smiled faintly in return, “You’re a hell of a lady, Lady,” she batted her eyelashes, “Oh, I know.~”

A Week Later --

Lady was in your room with you and the door was closed, the two of you spoke of your plan of how you would drop the bomb on your half demon boyfriend.

“Do you really think Vergil will accept it?” you asked just as the white haired man opened the door, “Accept what?” he asked coolly. Lady closed her mouth and first looked at Vergil, then to you, “I’ll just let you guys have some alone time,” she slinked past the Sparda man and closed the door behind her. His gaze never left you and his strong features were unmoved.

You attempted to embrace him as you wrapped your arms around his neck but he gave you a slight push away before you could place a kiss on his cheek. “Will you tell me what you were talking about?” You bit your lower lip and hesitated to confess to him. Vergil took hold of your chin with his fingertips, “Speak.”

You swallowed hard, his blue eyes did not waver and they were just so beautiful that you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m --- pregnant,” you whispered. It was like time moved to slow motion, Vergil observed each syllable that came from your lips. Pregnant? Pregnant. Pregnant.

 A twitch in Vergil’s furrowed brows caught your attention, it proceeded to twitch several times before he closed his eyes and released his grip on your chin. “How?” You shrugged, “I thought we were careful every time, even with our more adventurous hookups.” He didn’t speak and just listened, “Why?”

“Why?” you repeated, “That’s what happens, Vergil. I can’t really make it anymore clear.” As per usual, you couldn’t read him and his thoughts were a mystery to you.

“So, I’ll be a father once again. At least I’m currently aware of this one.” he sighed.

“Two,” you interjected. It was as if you could see his ears perk up when you mentioned a number higher than he assumed. “Two? Another set of Sparda twins...” he was quiet before you could see a small smile on his lips. Vergil called for you to come to him, which you obeyed.

He wrapped his right arm around your upper half. His left hand rested on your stomach with a loved filled touch. His chin rested on top of your head as he imagined what they looked like and what life would be like in several months.

He thought to himself, maybe -- just maybe -- he truly deserved a happy life, despite all the things he had done. He now felt a stronger urge to want to be around you, the babies, and even Dante more. 

“Do I deserve this happiness, [Y/N]?” 

Your hand rested on his that was still on your stomach, “Of course. You always have.”

[hockeyisit]

Could you do a piece of amelia and auston with the 22 NHL game? Maybe the photoshoot or something

I let out a groan as I rolled over in bed. Auston was standing in front of his dresser pulling on a pair of boxers while Felix lay in his abandoned spot on the bed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pushing my face back into the pillow feeling exhausted.

“I have that photoshoot today,” he answered quietly. I turned my face to glance at my phone so I could check the time. 7:30AM. We had arrived back into Toronto late last night and I had stayed up later than Auston trying to get some of my stuff unpacked.

“What photoshoot?” I closed my eyes and pulled Felix closer to me. The jetleg catching up to me very quickly.

“For the NHL game,” he reminded me as he walked into the closet and started pulling on his clothes.

Felix squirmed in my hold before hopping off the bed and following Auston into the closet. Once he was finished getting dressed he made his way out of the closet and over to the bed where I was.

“I’ll be there for awhile,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, which was still buried in the pillows. I flipped over so I could look up at him.

“If you end up wanting to bring me lunch or something I can text you the address,” he whispered looking down at me with a glint in his eye. I smiled as I pushed myself up so I could give him a kiss.

“Do that, I’ll bring whatever you want” I said grinning. He smiled softly before giving me another kiss.

“Thanks baby. Get some more sleep,” he said as he pulled away. I smiled laying back against the pillows so I could get comfortable. Auston patted the couch and waited for Felix to hop on.

“I already took him out so just get some rest,” he told me before pushing himself up from the bed. He grabbed his phone off the charger and then made his way out of the room. I grinned to myself as I reached out to pet Felix before falling back into a blissful sleep.

-------

Waking up again I slowly rolled onto my side to check my phone. I had three messages from Auston and a few in our groupchat with his family.

Aus: I have a break around 1:30

I’m feeling anything you want.

Also can you bring my wallet, I forgot it. It's in my grey backpack. Buy lunch with my card.

I did a tapback to his responses instead of responding before moving onto the groupchat.

MAMA Matthews: Saw these and thought of you guys

She sent a photo with the text that had me laughing out loud.

As I went to respond I was interrupted by a call.

“Hey,” I said, answering the call from Steph.

“BABE!” she said excitedly. “Are you back in the six?” she asked, causing me to grin.

“Yes I’m back.”

She squealed loudly causing me to move the phone from my ear.

“I’m busy during lunch but want to walk the dogs after?” I questioned.

“Yes I’m free!” she excitedly explained. I squealed.

“Cant wait to see you,” I told her.

“Our usual?”

“Yes!” I answered happily.

We said our goodbyes before hanging up the phone. I glanced over at Felix.

“Want to go on a walk?” I questioned raising an eyebrow. He tilted his head extiedly.

“Yeah a walk babe,” I teased. He jumped up from the bed causing me to let out a loud laugh as I hopped up from the bed and pulled on Auston’s sweat-shorts and a shirt.

“Let go baby,” I called out to Felix leading him to the door where his leash was at. I slipped it on before leading him out the door.

-----

After my walk with Felix I got ready and started to make my way out to the door so I could pick up Taco Bell for Auston and I. Then made my way to the address that he had sent me too.

“Ma'am sorry I can’t let you in with identification,” a security guard said, stopping me at the door. I took my license out and handed it to him.

“I’m Auston’s finance,” I told him as he took it from my hands. He lifted his walkie talkie before repeating what I had said to him in it. After a moment the clarification came through.

“Thank you Mrs. Matthew’s,” he said, handing my ID back to me. I grinned as I made my way through the door.

“Thank you,” I called as I walked through.

I made my ways through the halls to where Auston had instructed me. I came across him in the middle of an interview. I hid myself behind the closest workers so that I could listen to what he was saying.

“Alright break time,” the director called out moments later. Slowly I made my way over to Auston a bit intimidated by all the people around.

“I have tacos,” I called out when I was close enough. Auston turned away from the man he was talking to so that he could grin at me.

“Hi babe,” he called, making his way over to me and grabbing the food from my hand.

“Just going to take the food and walk away?” I questioned raising my eyebrow at him. He let out a little laugh before leaning down to press a quick sweet kiss to my cheek.

“No, I just don't want you doing any heavy lifting,” he teased as he led us over to an empty table. He set the food down and pulled me down into the chair next to him.

“How you doing, baby?” Auston asked, reaching his hand around my chair and rubbing my back. I turned my body to face him, giving him a soft smile.

“I’m still pretty tired, I slept until 11:30,” I told him before reaching out to take a sip of my coke. He gave me a soft grin as he reached out to steal my cup from me. I whined as my hand followed him trying to grab it back.

“That’s mine,” I grunted as I pulled it back. He gave me an offended look and then took a bite of his taco.

“Why didn’t you get me one?” he pouted his lips. I shrugged my shoulders as I started eating my food.

“Didn’t think you’d want one,” I admitted after I finished swallowing my food.

“Well I do,” he said, reaching for my soda again. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted after taking a sip. I reached my hand out to rest on his shoulder.

“What have they made you do today?” I questioned rubbing my hand up and down his arm. He let out a deep breath as he leaned into my touch.

“Just a bunch of different interviews and photoshoots.”

“Have they been fun?” I asked. As Auston was about to respond we heard someone call his name.

“We need you for a few more shoots,” the woman continued once we had turned our attention to her.

“Ill be right back baby,” Auston said leaning forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. I pulled my phone out as he walked off to finish his photoshoot.

-----

“Amelia?” A woman said, approaching me where I was still sitting at the table Auston had left me at. I glanced up from my phone and gave her a soft smile.

“Yes?” I locked my phone, setting it down in my lap.

“Mr. Matthews requested that I come get you and bring you to where he is,” she said, giving me a friendly smile. I nodded my head as I quickly started cleaning up the garbage on the table from lunch.

“Okay,” I said standing up and following after her. She led me down a long hallway before turning into a dark room lit up with only a few bright white lights that were shining on Auston. We walked over to the corner of the room so that we were standing back behind all the people working on the lighting and photos.

Auston’s face lit up when he noticed me standing farther back.

“Hey baby,” he called out, raising his hand in a wave. I blushed as I felt everyone's attention turn to me. I gave a small hesitant wave before ducking my head slightly.

“He’s confident,” a voice next to me said, causing me to look up. I took in the male standing next to me trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.

“Yeah he’s always been pretty confident, but it looks good on him,” I blushed, turning to look back at Auston’s grinning face.

“Confident off the ice and on the ice,” he joked, causing me to let out a small laugh.

“That’s for sure,” I joked back. The guy let out a laugh, throwing his head back.

“I’m Leon,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand. I smiled as I reached out to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Amelia,” I responded.

“Your Mats girl?” he questioned. I nodded my head as I looked over at Auston. It looked like he was finishing up.

“Yeah.”

As Leon went to respond he was interrupted by Auston sliding up behind me and wrapping his hand around my waist.

“Hey Drai,” Auston said, reaching his hand out to give him a fistbump.

“Hey I was just talking to your girl here about how good you look up there,” Leon joked, nudging Auston’s arm as he pointed to where he had been standing earlier.

“Okay,” Auston laughed, pulling me further into his side. “Let’s see how good you look up there,” Auston teased him, causing the three of us to let out a laugh. Leon made his way over to the camera area and they immediately handed him his jersey.

“You looked hot up there babe,” I grinned, turning to look up at Auston. He grinned down at me before leaning in for a peck.

“Thanks,” he whispered as he pulled away. I giggled as I leaned into him.

“Are you done for the day?” I asked hopefully. Sadly he shoot his head no.

“No but a break so follow me,” he said, holding his hand out to me and pulling me out of the room into the hall.

“Where are we going?” I giggled as I trailed after him. He stopped walking and turned around to face me.

“I know a place,” he smirked before abruptly turning around and continuing on his way. I laughed loudly as I followed along.

“Here we are, my lady,” Auston grinned, pulling me into a family bathroom. I let out a loud laugh as he pushed me up against the door.

“This is not the sexy place I had in mind,” I joked as I pushed at his chest. He let out a laugh as he pulled away.

“I know, there aren't any private places here” he whined. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. As I continued kissing him I let myself relax in his hold. A moment later a text tone went off. Auston pulled back to look at his phone.

“They want me back,” he said through a sigh.

“Alright well I think I;m going to head out,” I told him with a small pout. He leaned in to press a kiss to my lips.

“Okay I’ll see you at home babe.”

“Okay,” I said through a smile leaning in to kiss him again. He pulled away with a grin before slowly opening the door and peeking into the hallway.

“Coast is clear,” Auston said, pushing the door and making his way out with me hot on his trails.

-----

“Hi Felix,” I smiled. Felix greeted me at the door the second I arrived home.

“Let’s go for a walk buddy,” I grinned, picking up his leash. I dropped my purse onto the table next to the door and fished out my keys.

“Let’s go.”

I opened the door and started to make my way to the elevator. We waited a minute before the elevator appeared. There was a man standing in the corner on his phone and he gave me a small smile as I stepped in with Felix.

“Who’s this guy?” he asked sweetly, gesturing down to Felix.

“This is Felix,” I said, smiling down at my puppy. Felix's tail started wagging in excitement at hearing his name.

“Cute dog, when did you get him?” he questioned. Felix walked over to him and started sniffing him.

“Oh he was my fiance's dog when we met. I think he got him two years ago?” I said, sounding a bit unsure of what I was saying.

“Nice.”

“You can pet him if you want,” I encouraged him. He gave me a smile as he reached out to do so.

“Did you just move in?” I questioned knowing I had never seen him before. I felt like I knew or recognized everyone that lived here.

“Yeah 663. Had to move for my job.” I let out a sad sigh as I thought of all the memories Auston and I had made in that apartment with Freddie. The elevator doors opened and Felix took off out the door. We both let out a laugh as we followed.

“What’s your job?” I asked as we walked towards the lobby door.

“Uh I play for the NHL,” he shrugged, pulling the door open for me. I let the shock spread across my face for a quick second.

“So you must know Auston,” I paused once we had made it outside. He gave me a weird look as he raised his eyebrow.

“Auston Matthews, he’s my finance,” I said, reaching up to tuck a piece of my hair out of my face.

“Oh! I uh haven't actually met any of my teammates yet but I’ve played against him before,” he admitted.

“Nice well if you need any help getting around Toronto let us know. I should probably take this poor guy on his walk now though,” I said pointing to my puppy and slowly walking in the direction of our normal walk path. Suddenly Felix pulled really hard on the lease causing me to stumble forward as he tried to take off.

“Hey,” I warned him. I glanced in the direction of where Felix was trying to go and saw Steph and Zues. I squealed in excitement before quickly making my way over to her.

“Steph!! Show me the ring,” I exclaimed when I reached her. She blushed as she lifted her hand to show me her shiny engagement ring.

“It���s so beautiful,” I told her as I took her hand in mine. “Were you surprised when he asked?”

Mitch had told me that he was going to propose to Steph and had me help prepare for it. I had made sure she went to get her nails done by going to Arizona. We facetimed and pretended we were together. I thought for sure she would know that something was going on but she had seemed surprised when she had told me it happened.

“Yes I knew it was going to happen eventually but everything was absolutely perfect! I loved it so much.” She smiled. “Thanks for making me get my nails done.” She laughed, folding her arm into mine so that they were interlocked.

“Anything for you,” I said sweetly. Her smile lit up as she led us over to a bench. She unclipped Zues from his leash and then threw a tennis ball for him to chase. Felix whined from where he was standing near my legs causing me to look down. I hated taking him off the leash when Auston wasn’t around. I knew that Felix was a great dog and would never hurt someone but I got so worried that he would get lost or stolen. If we were in a dog park with a fence it would be a different story.

“I’m glad you said that because,” she was cut off by Zues dropping the ball at her feet and barking. She reached down for the ball and threw it again. “I was hoping that you would be one of my bridesmaids?” She questioned, glancing at me nervously. I felt my jaw drop open in shock at her question. I was completely surprised by her decision to ask me that.

“What?” I finally got out.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Steph had always had a lot of friends that she was really close with. I knew that she considered me to be one of her best friends the same way I did with her but I was still shocked at the fact that she wanted me to be in the wedding party.

“Of course, I would make you my maid of honor but I have to give my sister that,” she joked, throwing the ball again. I reached out and pulled her into a quick hug before feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled my phone out to see an incoming call from Auston.

“Hello?” I asked swiping to answer the phone.

“Where did you two go?” Auston asked the second after I talked.

“We're at the park with Steph,” I answered.

“Oh. Do you think you could tire him out. My wrist is hurting a bit so I’m probably going to take the medicine and nap. I don’t want to have to take him out later,” he said. I glanced over to where Felix was laying on the ground looking at Zues play with a longing look in his expression. Letting out a soft sigh I knelt down and unhooked his leash.

“Yeah I can do that. Do you want me to pick up dinner or make dinner?” I questioned. Steph raised her eyebrow at me but I waved her off with my hand.

“We don’t have any groceries,” he responded. I heard the sound of the water running in the background before turning off.

“Okay I’ll pick up some food.”

“Sounds good see you then baby,” he said softly. I blushed as I mumbled back.

“Love you, hope your wrist starts to feel better.”

We hung up the phone and I turned back to Steph. “That was Auston. His wrist is bothering him a bit.”

“Oh. How did the surgery end up going?” she asked curiously. I shrugged my shoulders as I kept an eye on Felix running around with Zues.

“It was fine. Honestly I think Freddie took care of Auston more after it then I did,” I joked. She laughed with me before giving me a soft smile.

“I’m sure you guys will miss him.”

It was no secret that Freddie was such a big part of Auston and my life. He had lived with us during two of the offseasons and during the year he lived in the same apartment building. When we first met I wasn't sure how to feel about how close their friendship was but as time went on it just became the norm.

“Yeah we spent pretty much the whole summer with him. Only time we probably weren't with him was when we went to Mexico.”

Felix came running back over to us with Zeus following right after. Felix dropped the ball before taking a seat right at my feet. I let out a little laugh as I grabbed the ball and picked it up. He made no move to stand though so I just handed the ball back to Steph.

“You tired Felix?” I asked, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “Ready to go home to Papi?” He let out a bark in response causing Steph and I to laugh.

-----

I dropped Felix off at the apartment before deciding to make the trip to the grocery store so that I could cook dinner for Auston and I tonight. I knew that if Auston’s wrist was hurting him he was going to be a bit extra crabby then he normally is so I wanted to do something nice for him and make him a meal that reminded him of his family.

I had decided to make Auston’s favorite meal, his Mama’s famous tortilla soup. She had given the recipe to me over the summer and I had made it with her a few times trying to get it just right. I hadn’t told Auston that I was learning though so I was kind of excited to surprise him with it.

When I got back from the grocery store I quickly put everything away and then started making the soup. Once it was finished I left it to simmer while I made my way into our room to see if Auston was still sleeping.

I quietly pushed the door open to see Felix laid out at the end of the bed wrapped around Auston’s feet and Aus passed out facing the door. A smile ghosted my lips as I walked further into the room. I walked over to my side of the bed and crawled in so that I was big spooning him. He shifted in my arms before relaxing against me.

“Aus,” I whispered softly.

“Huh?” he mumbled uot.

“I made dinner. Why don't you get up and eat some,” I pressed a kiss to the back of his neck which was slightly sweaty.

“Five minutes,” he responded tiredly.

“Okay. Are you feeling okay?” I rubbed my hand up and down his arm gently, careful of his wrist.

“Fine.”

“Your sweaty,” I pointed out.

“It’s hot in here,” he pointed out “I don’t think we ever turned the air on.” I thought about it for a moment before realizing that he was right.

“I can go turn it on,” I said about to push myself up off the bed. He let out a groan as his hand stopped me.

“Can you just hold me for a bit longer.” Something in his voice caused my chest to ache and all I could do was nod.

“I made your favorite for dinner,” I mumbled quietly. He hummed in response.

“Tortilla soup,” I clarified for him. “Your Ma’s recipe.”

“Yum,” he smiled, before pushing himself up into a sitting position. He turned to face me and leaned down to press a passionate kiss to my lips.

“I love you baby,” he whispered when he pulled away.

“I love you too.”

I knew Auston was nervous and scared for what this new season was going to hold. Especially with all the uncertainty of his wrist and Freddie being gone. I also knew that this season was going to be just fine and he was worrying about nothing.

“Let’s go eat.” I climbed out of the bed holding my hand out to Auston. He took it and together we made our way into the kitchen stoppin to turn on the air.

“Oh my god, taste just like my moms,” he moaned as he took another spoonful.

A.N: Sorry this took so long for me to write. I hope you like it. I'm planning on working and finishing a lot of the request that y'all have sent in. I have a few that are already half written so I hope to get those posted soon! ps. sorry if this one is kinda boring.

[iknewyoudunderstand]

Aaron woke up to a clattering in the kitchen. His brain caught up with his body when he was crouched at the gun safe tucked away next to his bureau, his sleep-addled fingers somehow maneuvering the combination lock—ten, oh-seven, thirty-four. Spencer had complimented him on it when figuring it out had taken him longer than ten seconds, because while using his son’s birthday was expected, what wasn’t was the division of his favorite album’s release date, and that would prevent potential attackers from— 

Spencer. Where was Spencer?

Glock in hand, finally, Aaron spun around but the bed was empty and the bathroom dark. Spencer’s revolver was still in the safe, and try as he might but Aaron just couldn’t remember if he had fallen asleep before Spencer had come upstairs or not. Spencer was a much heavier sleeper than he was, and if there was someone in the house and Spencer was downstairs…

On silent feet, Aaron crept through the upstairs, clearing each room. He didn’t have a flashlight on him, so he was forced to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, to keep his back to the wall, and to keep his finger on the trigger just in case someone jumped out at him from behind a door or a chest of drawers. His room, Jack’s unoccupied room, the upstairs bathroom… as he came down the stairs he noticed that there was a light coming from the kitchen.

He lifted his gun again and turned the corner to see Spencer, leaning against the counter with a jar of baby food in his hand and a spoon in his mouth.

“What the fuck?” Aaron asked. Spencer jumped at the sight of the gun, and Aaron clicked the safety back on. “What are you doing?”

“An experiment,” he said around the spoon.

Aaron suddenly felt very tired. He glanced at the digital clock on the oven. 3:23 AM. “Why?”

“Um.” Spencer set the jar of baby food down on the counter, and then the spoon. “Necessity?”

“Spencer.”

“I was hungry,” Spencer said. “And it was too late to make something.”

“Spencer.”

“So I had to go looking in the cabinets.”

“Not in the pantry?”

“As a result, I found the baby food.”

“It’s been there for at least a year. Did you check if it was expired?”

“My hypothesis was in regards to whether or not expired baby food was still going to be good.”

Aaron sighed. “And?”

“My conclusion is that it is palatable, but probably not something I should incorporate into my regular diet.”

“You mean you won’t be replacing your diet of coffee and saltine crackers with pureed peas and carrots?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Spencer cracked a grin and the sight of it dissolved all of his building exasperation. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He moved closer to Spencer and set his gun on the counter. “But you could’ve just told me you were going to make something. You know I don’t mind.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?” Spencer shrugged. “Spencer, you live here. I told you when you moved in that I wasn’t going to try and change your habits; they’re not disruptive.”

“They’re decidedly disruptive, Aaron. They’re the definition of disruptive,” Spencer said.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he repeated. “It won’t happen again.”

“It will probably happen again.” Aaron reached out and grabbed one of Spencer’s hands so he’d stop wringing them. Gently, because he knew Spencer was still getting used to casual displays of affection, he lifted his knuckles to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss across them. Spencer lit up red. “But it’s okay. We’re FBI agents. At least one of us has to be the light sleeper.”

He snorted. “It doesn’t help that I’m an insomniac.”

“Life goes on.” Aaron fought a yawn. “I’m going back to bed, okay? Just make something if you’re hungry; you can throw away all that baby food when you’re done with your ‘experiment.’” He made air quotes around the word.

“It’s science, Aaron,” Spencer said. “I know you don’t understand it because you don’t have a doctorate in chemistry—“

“You are so lucky I love you,” Aaron said with a scoff. He looked down to grab his gun, and when he looked back up, Spencer was frozen completely, his eyes wide and his bottom lip trembling a bit. He looked like someone had just told him his dog died.

Or, his brain that was still heavy with sleep supplied, like someone had told him they loved him for the first time.

“Sorry,” Aaron said quickly. “I didn’t mean… well, yes, I meant it, but I didn’t mean to say it now… honestly, I was hoping for a situation that was more romantic—“

“I’m sorry, this isn’t the romantic occasion you were looking for?” Spencer joked, a little bit of color coming back to his face. Spencer away from work was a smart-mouthed son of a bitch, and Aaron recognized it as a sort of defense mechanism—a sense of normalcy.

“Not really.” He returned Spencer’s wry smile with a dimple-bearing grin and received a light shove on the shoulder for his troubles, and a muttered ‘jerk.’

Aaron knew they weren’t going to talk about it. There wasn’t going to be a conversation about the logistics of a romantic connection between a superior and a subordinate, because they were already in too deep for a 3 AM feelings powwow to make any difference. They lived in the same house, they slept in the same bed. The only thing missing was the verbal affirmation, the thing that would tell the other, yes, I am in it for the long run.

He supposed neither of them had been looking for a promise because promises eventually got broken. Aaron learned that with Haley, and he didn’t want Spencer to have to learn it first hand—but he knew anyway because no matter how they got into this job, into this field, there was always trauma in the background. Neither of them wanted to get hurt or hurt the other, so the nonverbal agreement had been formed. Maybe if they didn’t say it out loud, the eventual dissolution wouldn’t hurt as much.

And Aaron had just ruined all that because he was caught off guard. It was uncharacteristic as it got—he was Aaron Hotchner, he was never caught off guard—but the easiest way to ruin something was by sticking your own foot in it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Spencer said, looking like he’d just heard Aaron’s entire thought process out loud. Or he had probably had the same one. “I mean… you mean it, right?”

“Yeah,” Aaron said. “I do.”

Spencer stepped in close and caught his lips in a kiss, and it was relatively romantic for all of five seconds, especially in the way that his long fingers caught the skin in between his boxer briefs and his worn academy t-shirt that had become his pajamas, but then the taste made Aaron recoil.

“How did you palate that?” he asked, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “All that sugar in your coffee is ruining your taste buds.”

“Maybe.” But Spencer was laughing, even as he stuck the spoon in the sink and dropped the baby food in the trash—thank God, Aaron didn’t know if he wanted that disgusting stuff in his house anymore. He’d call Jack in the morning and apologize for making him eat that liquid garbage. “You should go back to bed.”

“You should come with me.”

“I need to finish what I was doing,” he said with a sigh. “This professor is killing me with these papers.”

“He most likely knows that you’re smarter than him and feels intimidated, so he’s lashing out at you,” Aaron said, feigning wiseness. “Probably had some sort of complex when he was a kid.”

“Oedipus,” Spencer said. “You’re lucky you don’t have to sit through his lectures. I thought I was done with Freud when I finished my BA…”

“And that’s my cue to go to bed before I have to listen to another rant.”

“They’re well deserved.”

“Good night, Spencer.”

“Good night, Aaron,” Spencer said, and Aaron turned to leave the kitchen.

He couldn’t tell if it was his imagination when he heard a soft, “I love you, too,” but he didn’t want to check. Life with Spencer Reid was wonderful, and incredible, and all the other adjectives this crazy relationship between them deserved, but it was fragile. They both were.

Besides, he didn’t need to hear those words, because they only encouraged him—and he didn’t need to be thinking about a recreation of this scene in a world where life was more stable, and society was more accepting, and there was another child in his life and Spencer had another opportunity to eat baby food, even though the whole thought made his heart slam against his ribcage and a grin break out across his face.

They had work in the morning, and he didn’t need to be up all night dreaming about the future, because he was perfectly content to just let it come.

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

@larkiaquail

@noemiescuriosity

@mycatshuman

@cirishere

@vpow

@ray-does-stuff

@sirprplsnail

[muzawrites]

Carrying On (Jay Park Mafia AU)

Summary: Its been said that in times of tragedy new relationships emerge and become stronger, when tragedy strikes we seek connection it is in our nature.  How does the loss of their father affect the relationship between Jay and his adopted sister, Amara. Does it strengthen it? Or does it reveal things which were once hidden?

AN:  This is the first story I’ve ever posted, constructive criticism is always welcome

Fifty-one.... fifty-two…. fifty-three…. fifty-four…. fifty-five… damn this is really not working. Why do they always make it seem like counting sheep helps you fall asleep? I checked the clock again- 12:05am. Sighing, I rolled over to the cooler side of my bed and let my mind wonder to the last 2 weeks, the worst 2 weeks of my life as far as I can remember. My adopted father and leader of the most powerful mafia clan in South Korea had passed away, leaving his only son Jae-beom (aka Jay) in charge of his empire.

I don’t remember too much from my childhood before I was adopted but from the snippets I do remember and what I’ve been told, it wasn’t good. I was found by Jay’s father going through garbage outside one of the restaurants the family owns at the age of 10, having been abandoned by my mother for being a mixed-race baby, I guess she couldn’t deal with having a half black half Korean child any longer. According Jay’s father I reminded him of the daughter he had lost a couple years prior when she and her mother (his wife/Jay’s mother) had falling ill and both passed away. In the back of my head I always felt like some sort of ‘replacement child’ for the daughter he had lost, even though he never made me feel like it, even Jay made me feel like his little sister even though it took a bit of time for him to get use to me as he was 16years old when I was “brought into the family” but over time we became very close, even naming me his co-right hand along with his best friend Simon. And of course he always took his role as the protective big brother a little too seriously with some of my boyfriends throughout high school and varsity. They would break up with me after a few weeks with either a broken nose or blackened eye.

I sighed and rolled over one more time before giving up and getting out of bed to make a cup of tea or something stronger to help me fall asleep. I threw a long silk robe over my sleep chemise to conserve some decency just in case one of the guards was roaming around. As I walked down the hall, I noticed Jay’s bedroom door slightly open with the light inside shining through. After softly knocked I pushed the door to find him sitting on the couch facing the fireplace with the coffee table filled with presumably work papers, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he asked without turning around, his full attention on the fire before him. “Shouldn’t you?” I rebutted as I grabbed the empty whiskey glass in his hand, walked over to the mini bar in his room to get him a refill and me a glass of his strongest whiskey on the rocks. He was still wearing the black slacks and black dress shirt he wore earlier in the day with the tie thrown somewhere in the room and his top two buttons undone.

“Seems we both can’t fall asleep huh” he said, as I handed him his glass. He mumbled a soft thanks as I sat down next to him. “Seems like” I replied leaning into his shoulder and staring into the flames with him. For some time, nothing could be heard but the fire crackling and the occasional clinking of ice against glass as we took sips of our drinks. “So, what happens now?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. He sighed, running his hand over his face. “In a few days, we meet with the heads of the families underneath us to continue business as usual” he answered, gulped down the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the side table as to not jolt me from his shoulder. “Can’t believe he’s gone” I whispered.

“Neither can I” he responded, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Jay had been prepped to be the leader of the family organisation since he turned 13 and now at the age of 32, he was more than ready to take over and I had no doubt he would do great things in this position but the fact of our father’s passing was still heavy in our hearts. I gulped down the rest of my drink as well and placed my glass on coffee table. I stretched out my back and neck, unconsciously pushing my chest out against the silk of my robe. Long gone were the days of the scrawny little girl who first joined the family; I had grown into a woman with curves in all the right places, soft caramel skin which glowed under the light of the fire. From the corner of my eye, I notice Jay intensely watching me, not being able to decipher the look like I usually would be able to I pushed it aside.

“Can I have a hug?” I asked, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and pout. He chuckled while getting up and opening his arms up for me. I quickly jumped into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck before he could change his mind. He wrapped his arms around my waist a bit lower than they usually would be. For some reason this hug felt different from every other hug we’ve shared, but still felt warm, safe and like home. “I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you” he suddenly confessed into my hair as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of my head, I looked up to find his dark brown eyes staring into mine. “And I will never leave your side” I replied, my statement making him smile. I don’t know what took over me but I suddenly found myself leaning up to kiss him. He didn’t respond at first but after a few seconds I felt his lips move against mine. This kiss was so much better than any I had ever experienced before. His lips were soft but firm, he tasted of the whiskey we had been drinking and a hint of something else, something uniquely him, he took full control of the kiss holding onto my waist a little tighter. Suddenly I felt like a bucket of cold water fell on me when I felt his tongue brushing against my lips and I came to my senses. I shouldn’t have kissed Jay… he was practically my older brother. I quickly ended the kiss, pushing myself away from him and loosening his grip on my waist in the process. “I’m sorry” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes, trying to get past him and back to my room and to hide under my covers from the embarrassment. “Amara wait” he said, calling me by my birth name instead of the name I was given when I came into the family. He was the only one who called me Amara as he knew I preferred that name a little bit more than my given name. He quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back into his embrace before I could even take 5 steps away from him. I couldn’t bare to look into his face because of the embarrassment. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake” he said softly. I looked up at him, surprised. “I’ve always felt more for you than any normal brother would or even should, I guess that’s why I have always been so protective over you. At first I thought it was because you had such a tough time growing up and I wanted to protect you from that and this hectic mafia life you had been brought into, but as we grew older I knew it was much more than that. That’s why I could never stand seeing you with those idiots you used to date, especially that piece of shit Bobby” he said. Bobby was the guy I had dated in my senior year of high school but he had broken up with me right after prom after I had given him my virginity, stating that the only reason he was with me was to sleep with the “Park Princess”. I remember crying for a week but after that he mysteriously went missing and his family left town not long after. I had always assumed he had left with his family.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine and I’m never letting you go” he declared, looking deep into my eyes before pulling me back into a slightly rough passionate kiss. Deep down I knew I felt the same way about him. I even had a full blown crush on Jay between the ages of 16-18 but after that I quickly pushed it aside thinking it was not only one sided but wrong as he was supposed to be my brother. I briefly thought back to my past boyfriends and realised they all had either personality or physical similarities to Jay but in my mind and heart they would never amount to him. I felt him walk backwards towards the couch without breaking our passionate embrace. He broke our kiss to sit down and signalled for me to straddle him. Before I did I untied the knot I had done on my robe, letting the soft silk fall off my skin, revealing the deep red chemise I was wearing underneath. “Fuck” I heard him whisper as I straddled his lap and continued kissing him, his hands returned to my waist, pulling me closer into him which cause my barely covered pussy to brush up against the quickly growing bulge in his pants, this action causing us both to groan into each other’s mouths.

His lips left mine and started trailing down my neck, finding that sweet spot that made me grind into him just a little harder. My fingers made quick work unbuttoning his shirt and slowly ran down his strong chest lightly brushing over his nipples, this action causing him to groan and dig his fingers- which had moved from my waist to my ass- deeper into my soft but firm flesh. His lips quickly returned to mine as his hands started trailing up, dragging my chemise with them. We briefly separated so he could pull the material over my head before returning to the kiss. “Hold on tight” he muttered, as he got up without breaking our kiss, my legs wrapped securely around his waist. He softly placed me onto his bed as he broke apart from my lips to remove the rest of his shirt. “Fuck you’re perfect” he groaned, his voice laced with lust. “Those fuckers didn’t deserve you” he muttered as he returned to kissing my neck, this time also grabbing onto my boobs and playing with my nipple with his one hand whilst the other trailed down the side of my body and returned to my legs around his waist, I felt nothing but him at that moment, the soft heated touch of his hands running down my body, the smell of his rich expensive cologne, his soft lips on my nipple driving me crazy. At that moment all my thoughts were consumed by him. “Have you ever wondered what happened to that piece of shit Bobby” he said looking into my eyes with a dark look I had only seen a handful of times. “I killed him” he said, now kissing and sucking my left nipples whilst his right hand continued to play with the other.  “What!” pulling his hair causing him to look up at me, “Not only did he have the audacity to touch what’s mine, but he hurt you as well…he had to pay for that” he declared kissing me once again. As dark and twisted as it seems, his confession turned me on even more.

His kisses left my lips once again as he kissed my body further and further down. His fingers made quick work of the cute thong I had been wearing, tearing it off my body “Hey! That was one of my favourites” I complained before moaning as his fingers brushed up against my clit, “I’ll buy you a million more, get you whatever you want and I’ll do whatever you want” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “Well right now, I want you to stop teasing and eat me out” I said grabbing onto his hair, pushing him down towards where I needed him most, “Your wish is my command, my Queen” he said seductively before attaching his lips to my clit. Him calling me his Queen and the feeling of his thick fingers entering me as he sucked my clit made me cum instantly. “Jay!” I screamed his name as I experienced a high like never before. As I came down from it, he pulled his fingers out of me and licked them clean whilst looking me dead in the eye. “You taste so good babygirl I could be down there forever” he said. I quickly sat up and pushed him back and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips sent my body into overdrive as I quickly unbuckled his pants. He chuckled at the rushed movements and pushed me back as he got up to remove his pants.

 As he did this, I got a full proper look at his body; firm, muscular, covered in tattoos and all mine. I truly was the luckiest girl in the world at that moment. As he pulled down his briefs, I got my first proper look at him, he was long, thick and veiny. His tip was an angry red colour dripping beads of pre-cum. He’s gorgeous, I thought. I reached out to feel him, barely able to wrap my hand around him. He felt hot and heavy in my hand. I slowly started to stroke him, and he let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard causing me to look up at him. His eyes were dark with lust and passion. “Baby, you better stop if you don’t want this to end too early” he groaned, taking my hand away from him and leaning into another kiss. He laid me down and once again started kissing my neck. At the back of my mind I wondered if it would hurt; Jay was definitely much more blessed than any other man I had been with.

“Don’t worry baby I’ll go slow” he said positioning himself between my legs as if reading my mind.

“At first” I replied with a sexy smirk on my face as I grabbed him and pumped him a few times before lining him up with my entrance.  “I love you” he said as he slowly entered me. He felt so big that it kind of hurt but I didn’t want him to stop. The pleasure outweighed the pain. “Fuck baby, I love you too” I moaned as he finally bottomed out. “Shit baby you feel so good” he groaned as he started moving at a slow and steady pace. I grabbed his face and pulled him down into another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on me. In this moment I felt complete I knew that we were meant to be, I knew that he was fully mine and as I his. “Fuck baby harder” I moaned as he moved one of my legs to rest on his shoulder. He granted my wish as he started moving faster and harder, hitting a spot in me that made my brain go all fuzzy. I became a moaning mess underneath him as he did what he pleased with my body. “Shit baby, I’m so close” I groaned against his lips. At that moment he pulled out of me and before I could protest he flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled my hips up into a perfectly arched position, he quickly re-entered me, now feeling even deeper than he was before. The sounds that were coming out my mouth didn’t sound like me but at that moment in time I didn’t care because all my body and mind were focused on Jay and the pleasure he was giving me. My mind briefly drifted, the thought of him impregnating me at the moment and how beautiful our baby would be warming me up even more. This thought quickly got pushed aside as I felt him grab my hair and pull me up till my back met his chest. “Fuck baby you feel so good and so fucken tight” he groaned into my ear as I turned my head to kiss him. “I want to feel you cum on me” he groaned as his fingers attached themselves to my clit sending me into the most mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life. My walls tightened so much around him that he came not a second later. He continued pumping into me, drawing out our highs as much as possible. “Fuck” he sighed in content. “I’m never going to get enough of you” he said pulling me into another kiss.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing” I said clenching my inner walls around his still hard member. He groaned, flipping us over till I was on top of him with his dick deep inside me.

“No, not a bad thing at all” he smirked as I slowly started moving, “You’re mine forever” he said, sitting up and kissing me once again. We continued to make love until the sun slowly started peaking through the curtains. “I love you” he whispered into my hair as I lay in his arms, “And I love you” I replied as I turned my head to give him one last kiss before we fell asleep.

At the back of our minds, we both knew we would probably face a lot of heat and probably negative attention if our relationship was to be exposed with most saying it’s wrong. However, I knew that no matter what Jay would never leave me nor I him.

The End

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Unnamed Andy Barber Snippet

So here we are. I’m not ready to share this fic yet, but I’ve been busting ass on it getting chapters written. And honestly, I’m loving the build up in it, when I will be sharing it, I don’t know. Hoping by late spring, early summer. That’s the goal. But I thought I would just give a sample of what I have been working on between Attack Of The Winter Wolf and Wilford’s Demand’s. 

“Great! I'm starving.” Andy immediately exclaimed as he pushed from his desk, Stacy set the bags down and started unloading them while he came around the desk. Seeming to gauge you, he stepped in closer, tilting your chin up a bit to meet his gaze. 

“How are you ?” He questioned you and you immediately responded. Knowing that he would want nothing but the honest truth. 

“Nervous, but glad I'm here.” 

You could see his demeanor warm, a smile gracing his face that made your heart leap happily. “I'm glad you are here too.” Waving his hand towards a comfortable looking seat near his desk, you settled in. 

“Alright, I got a bit of everything, so just grab whatever you want.” Stacy announced while she picked up what looked like a portion of an italian, not even waiting for Andy to pick his own first. You couldn't imagine being so brave, but Andy nodded at you to go ahead and you picked at what looked to be a turkey. Then he grabbed another portion of the one you took. “Oh Y/N, you need to try these chips. Fresh made!” She opened up a paper bag that looked like it was splotched with a bit of grease and inside were golden thin chips that were lightly salted. You plucked at one, the crunch defending to your ears but the taste. 

It was salty goodness. 

Again conversation picked up, mostly between Andy and Stacy. Andy tried to keep it from getting too personal with you, and thankfully Stacy picked up on that. Instead they talked a bit about the predicted workload for the coming week, as well as Stacy talking about a get away that coming weekend she was doing with Jake, a small bed and breakfast on the coast. 

Andy noticed you perk a bit listening to Stacy's description, which Andy kept his smile to himself. Indeed you were a romantic at heart cause you actually sounded wistful when you responded, without any prompting for an answer. “That sounds amazing.” 

“It will be, Jake made the reservations on my birthday last month… which is actually why I'm hoping Andy will give me Monday off? Seeing how Jake told me this morning that the place called him with an extra day option for that room.” She put on her very best please face, which Andy flickered his glance from you looking all dreamy to his secretary and closest friend trying to play like she was actually asking. 

Truthfully it was more like she was telling Andy she wouldn't be in Monday. Which was perfectly fine with him. But he made a show wiping his hands on his napkin and across his lips, looking almost doubtful. 

“Well… we do have-”

“I don't care Andrew, I'm not going to be here.” Stacy was quick to say and you gasped at her, Andy barked out a laugh instead. 

“What I was going to say is we do have a light load, take off Tuesday to if Jake can spare the extra day.” He crumpled his napkin and went to toss it in the wastebasket. His phone rang then and he answered it, his brow coming together for a moment. “Excuse me ladies, be right back.” He said after hanging up. Stacy stretched herself as well. 

“I'm gonna use the restroom, wanna come?” She asked you and you shook your head. “Okay, be right back.” She excused herself, leaving you alone in the office. While it was empty, you decided to clean off Andys desk of the lunch wrappers. 

You just happened to be leaning over a desk when a deep voice sounded from behind you. “Stacy, do you know when Andy-” You straightened and spun to see a tall, broad shouldered man enter the office. His hair was slick back and his timbre of voice was deep, which matched his looks exactly. His eyes narrowed in surprise that you were in fact not Stacy, but someone completely new to him. His eyes unashamed seemed to roam you while you drew yourself against Andy’s desk, the wrappers in your hand shaking a bit as you felt the air rush from your lungs. 

Oh god, you knew him. 

Your eyes shot wide open, as did his while he let the door snap shut behind him. Both of you staring at one another in surprise, be he recovered quickly. “What are you even doing here?” He didn't call you by your name, when the Judge owned you, no one was given your name because it didn't matter, you were for there use and nothing more. You backed against the desk till your thighs hit it and you perched on the end. He advanced forward, aggressive in his strides as if he was angry at just being in your presence. “Answer me! I know you didn't just walk out of Judge Owens estate.” 

“S-ssorry. I'm here with Mas-Sir- Andy. I'm Andy’s now.” Your gaze dropped to the floor, reverting back to your training. Your hands holding the garbage trembled with fear when you felt his strong touch yank your head up to look at him, the color was rising in his cheeks at your words, his eyes disbelieving. 

“You now belong to Andy Barber? I will be fucking damned. I never knew the man had the streak.” His jaw clenched as if he was biting onto this new information, like a dog getting a piece of rawhide to chew on, seeking to shred it. His eyes seemed to look you up and down, snorting through his nose in disbelief. “He does dress you up nice though, doesn't he? Trying to keep his dirty secret quiet.” 

“He’s not-” 

“Don't you fucking tell me what he is. If he owns you, I know exactly what he is.” Neal snapped, his hand popping against your cheek gently in a reprimand, your mouth shut once more from defending yourself. “Question is, does he even know what he has in you? The things you have and will do?” 

You felt tears well up in your eyes, because you knew the things Neal was talking about. Shame burned its way up, and he barked a laugh seeing your distress. “Oh this just gets better and better. He doesn't even know about your training. Wonder how much he paid for you?” His breath was hot as he loomed closer to you, you wanted to pull away, but instinct took over. You knew any movement away would reward you with another slap to the cheek or worst. 

There was always worst. 

Stacy snapped the door open just then, catching sight of you backed against the desk and Neal hovering over you. “Is there something I can do for you Logiudice?” She snapped and he straightened, a cool smile on his face. 

“Just tell Andy I stopped by, would you? Bastard is slippery, never know when he will be around.” He moved away from you, and you slid now away from the desk to its side, putting more space between you two. He paused at the doorway. “It was nice meeting you Sweetheart, hope we run into one another again real soon.” With that he left. Stacy scoffed as she snapped the door shut. 

“He is so annoying, I’m damn glad I didn't become his secretary.” she turned away from the door towards you and saw you standing stock still, staring at the floor without moving. “Hey, you okay? He didn't do anything did he?” She approached you and went to reach out and take your hand, but you pulled away, going to toss the remaining wrappers in your hand. 

[roughentumble]

geralt and roachie

@avrupasya​ asked for a fic/continuation of this post of mine, where modern au geralt’s roach is a stuffed animal. sortve told in, like, vignettes, i suppose?

[read on ao3 if you like!]

The one constant in Geralt's short, stressful life, is Roachie. The little brown stuffed horse, named after a fish with similarly colored eyes("I'm gonna' study animals when I'm big!" he proclaims to anyone who will listen, which isn't many, so he whispers it into his horse's mane instead) has been with him long enough that he has no memories without her in some peripheral corner-- clenched in his fist, sitting on his blanket, overflowing from a fit-to-bursting pocket of his shorts. She's been with him through two houses now. He likes to think that she was given to him the day he was born, that they'd never been separated, but he can hardly ask anyone for confirmation. It's just one of those certainties you hold in your heart as a child.

So of course, for his seventh birthday, a dog eats her.

(The kicker is that it isn't even his birthday. It's a government assigned day that may or may not be in the vicinity of the actual day of his birth. It's not like he was dropped off at the fire station with paperwork or anything. He is vaguely, sort of, aware of this, just enough that it feels like an extra kick while he's down.)

She is utterly and completely beyond repair. Her shape isn't even recognizable, and for all his inconsolable tears, she's gathered up and unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

He cries when he finds her, cries through dinner, cries late into the night, cries until he is informed by one of his caretakers through what seems to be a rather impressive headache that if he doesn't stop crying, he would be "given something to cry about," which...

He already had something to cry about. Hence the crying.

He chews on his fist, however, startled into silence by the shouting, and hiccups softly into his pillow. Even as he's left alone, in the dark, he can't settle-- the thought of Roach thrown away like garbage is one that just doesn't sit right with him. He waits until the house is silent, into the wee hours of the morning, then sneaks on silent feet to the kitchen. He rustles through the trash as quietly as he can, pulling out pieces of his old friend, now not simply in tatters but also covered in what was left of dinner.

He nearly loses it at the sight of her, destroyed and filthy. Tears well in his eyes, blurring the world around him, and he sniffles once, weakly, but he doesn't want to wake anyone, and who knows what they'd do if they found him rooting through the trash, so he steels his resolve. Stomps down on the urge to give into another round of crying fits.

The night air is cold against his hot, sticky face. It's refreshing, but he barely notices it as he shuffles into a far corner of the yard. He digs a shallow hole with his hands and reverently lays her body inside. He covers her back up, tamps the earth back down with his palms, and then sits back on his heels. He's a little too young to fully understand what goes on in a funeral-- he's never seen one before, after all-- but he's seen TV, and he knows you're supposed to say something nice, so he says something to the effect of "Roachie was the bestest friend, an' the prettiest horse, there ever was in the whole entire world," and then sits in silence for a few moments longer, sniffling in the cold night air.

He suddenly recalls headstones, and he doesn't have any rocks-- doesn't know how to carve words into one-- but he does see a stick nearby. He shoves it in the ground like a stake and looks over his work. About as good as any grave dug by a seven-year-old could hope to be. He stays there until the cold starts making the tip of his nose and the joints of his fingers hurt, and then he stumbles back inside and curls up in bed.

He's moved to a new house a week later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He starts skipping lunches. He goes to school hungry, and comes home hungrier, and devours his dinners in this new house voraciously.

Every penny that would be spent on school lunches gets shoved in his pocket, then consolidated and shoved in his sock drawer when he gets home. Once he's gotten a decently-sized pile, he gathers it all up in his tiny little fists, shoves it in his pockets, and walks all the way to the local thrift store.

He'd gotten it into his head, somehow, that Roach still existed. Some childish idea that'd popped into his head as a comfort, and that got ingrained in his mind as he repeated it to himself over and over at night. He'd seen the rags, of course, what'd become of her after the dog had had it's way, he knew she was buried in the dirt a state away... but the core "soul" of his Roachie, that'd been with him and loved him and cared for him, was out there, in some other brown stuffed horse, waiting to be found again.

He marches into the toy section in the back of the thrift store with the determination of a soldier on a rescue mission.

And at the bottom of the bin, underneath all the teddy bears and off-brand babydolls, is one single brown stuffed horse.

Logic would dictate a coincidence-- but to his little eyes it looks a lot like magic.

He snatches her up instantly and runs to the front of the store, lest anything come and rip her from his arms again. He has to stand on his tip-toes, but he pushes her up on the counter, then pushes over the pile of money and asks if it's enough. The old lady looks at his pile, then pushes her glasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the tag on the horse's ear. She squints, then glances at his wide, desperate eyes. "Well!" She announces. "Would you look at that. That's the exact right amount. Must be fate." Then winks down at him.

He gasps loudly, eyes getting impossibly wider. Fate-- Roach really had been waiting for him! He reaches up and makes a grabbing motion with his hands. "Can, can I... can I hold her, then?"

"She's all yours." The woman says gently, and places it in his waiting arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roach stays with him all the way to the doorstep of the Kaer Morhen Home for Wayward Boys. He's thirteen, and she has a few weak seams, a few patches where the fur's been worn away. She's heavily loved, and he hasn't spent a night without her since they were "reunited". He's worn as well-- tired of the constant cycle of new places, new "families".

A few months later, with no prospect of leaving in sight, he takes back his wish for someplace permanent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He rooms with a boy named Eskel, who is about the only bright spot in Kaer Morhen, as far as Geralt is concerned. He is only mildly mocking of a thirteen year old sleeping with a stuffed animal every night, and it's mostly companionable ribbing, so even though the thought of anyone mocking Roachie gets under his skin, he lets it go. Eskel is his friend, after all. Of course, though, because that's the way of the world, some older boys overhear Eskel's teasing.

He comes back to his and Eskel's room that night, expecting to find Roach under his pillow-- he's too old to carry her everywhere, now, so that's where she lives-- and instead she's strewn across his bed.

He's old enough, now, to know that it maybe looks a little ridiculous from the outside, but he's too upset to be self-conscious, and Eskel is nothing if not understanding as Geralt sobs into his shoulder that night, quiet except for the occasional little soothing noise as he strokes a hand up and down Geralt's trembling back.

It's unsalvageable, at least for their inexperienced hands. Neither of them is a seamstress. After lights out, Geralt sneaks out-- this time with Eskel in tow-- and creeps into the backyard. Just like last time, he silently digs a hole and places her inside. That's what you do with Roaches, after all-- you bury them, then you find her all over again. The idea of Roach not existing out there, somewhere, is inconceivable.

He curls up next to Eskel that night, and it isn't the same, and he doesn't quite sleep... but it helps.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His first Roach had been about the side of a Beanie Baby, and had been a light, palomino sort of color. His second had been more the size of a Build-A-Bear, with slightly stiff limbs and brown fur so dark it was nearly black. The third time he finds Roach, she's a reddish sort of Bay, peeking out at him from behind a large Lego set on the thrift store shelf.

He'd already searched the bins three times and had come up empty-handed, not even a miscolored unicorn, or something else close-but-wrong to show for his efforts, and... there she is, sitting right there, like it's some sort of game. He gasps, and Eskel turns away from the slightly melted Barbies he'd been toying with at the sound. Geralt shoves the box aside and grabs at her, cradling her carefully in his hands. She's already a little on the worn side this time around-- one eye's a bit loose-- and she's right in the middle, size-wise, compared to her other two incarnations.

He loves her instantly.

It must show on his face, because Eskel laughs a little and throws an arm around his shoulders. "So, is this the fated horse, then?" He asks, teasing.

"Yeah," Geralt replies breathlessly, too excited to meet the teasing tone back, "I think so."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert shows up when he's thirteen and they're both sixteen.

He's loud, and violent, and instantly hones in on Geralt's preternaturally graying hair and the shock of white growing out of the back of his head(poliosis, born from stress, though none of them know that term). He's inhumanly annoying, a real pain in the ass, and somehow, against all odds, Geralt and Eskel both instantly adore him.

Maybe it's the way he talks back to their "caregivers", or the way he sometimes gets into fights on smaller kids' behalf, who knows, but the three of them form a little clique fairly quickly. Lambert pretends it's begrudging, but it's not hard to see that it's mostly a front. He's a brat, through and through, but he's their brat.

Which is why he's even in their room-- they're all hanging out, Geralt flipping through a book and Eskel attempting to study, while Lambert fiddles with Roach. He turns her over in his hands, examines the spot where the loose eye had fallen off a year back, picks at one of her loose seams. "I just don't get it," he says, scrunching up his nose, "like. What does it do?" He asks.

"Be careful with her." Geralt says, flicking a glance over at Lambert before returning to his book. "And she doesn't do anything. She's a stuffed animal, she just sits there."

"Well, yeah, no duh." Lambert replies, rolling his eyes. "I'm not stupid." Eskel mumbles 'Could've fooled me,' from his own bed, and Lambert hisses back 'Watch it,' and kicks his leg as he snickers. "I mean, what do you do with it? Give it wots and wots of hugs and kissews?" He asks mockingly. He's holding her by the front legs, wiggling them up and down like some sort of dance and shoving her in Geralt's direction. He's about to tell Lambert to knock it off, trying to bat him out of the way to continue reading when, one of her legs just... pops off. There's a stunned moment where Lambert just stares at the two pieces in his hands.

A strangled noise works its way out of Geralt's throat, and he snatches Roach out of Lambert's hands.

"I-- I didn't mean..." He tries, looking between Geralt and Eskel helplessly, but the tears are already welling up as Geralt clutches her closer to his chest.

"Oh, shit," Eskel mutters and scrambles to his side drawer, which hides in the bottom a small sewing kit. Lambert slips out of the room in between Geralt sobbing and Eskel rushing to reattach the limb.

The fabric is weak enough around the seam, and Eskel is inexperienced enough at sewing, that the limb is noticeably shorter than the rest, but she's whole and in one piece by the end of the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert awkwardly shuffles in place in their doorway the next day. "I-- fuck, man, I really didn't mean to..." He mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Geralt holds Roach a little closer. "It's fine," he says tersely, "but no one's allowed to touch Roach anymore. Ever." He says firmly.

"Yeah, no, that works." Lambert tentatively steps into the room and then, when he isn't shooed out and no one starts crying, grows a bit bolder, sitting down on the edge of Eskel's bed. "I mean, except for nursemaid Eskel over here, right?" He says jokingly, and earns himself a punch on the shoulder from Eskel.

"Piss off, ya' little brat." He mutters fondly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Years pass and Geralt and Eskel age out of Kaer Morhen. They get an apartment, split the costs, because they've basically never not shared a room, and they need all the shoulders to lean on they can get. All they really get is each other, so they settle for that. A few more years and Lambert is shoved out at the healthy age of eighteen-- just like they were. He's invited to their little apartment, and he's loud, and complains that he went from one roommate to two, bitches about how they're both sticks-in-the-mud who don't know how to have fun, and that they snore, and that he'll never get a good night's rest.

It's exactly what they were missing, and Roach watches all of it from her spot on the shelf near Geralt's bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Then, Geralt meets Jaskier.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time Jaskier comes over, Eskel and Lambert are both at work, so they have the apartment to themselves. Geralt opens the fridge to pull out two beers, and Jaskier flounces past him towards the shared bedroom. "I'm gonna' go root through your stuff without permission." He announces teasingly as he opens the door and slips inside.

Geralt snorts and rolls his eyes, taking his time popping open both bottles. He hears an exaggerated 'oooohh, interesting,' from the other room and carries the beers to his room. "There's really not much here to see." He says as he bumps the door open with his hip.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Jaskier replies from his place on Geralt's bed. "Who's this little cutie, huh?" His tone is light, teasing, and he's got Roach in his lap, playing with her ears.

Panic crawls up Geralt's throat-- she's old, now, and her ears were always a weak point. It's been years since he was sixteen, and her leg had come off so easily back then, so now... he shouts something strangled at Jaskier, maybe 'no' or 'stop', he isn't really sure, and Jaskier looks up with wide, startled eyes. He rushes over and drops the bottles on his night stand before scooping Roach out of Jaskier's hands. He doesn't yank-- terrified of what might happen to her stitching if he did-- but he isn't nice about it either.

He ignores Jaskier's stammering entirely, swiping his hand across her shelf to make sure there isn't any dust, before carefully sitting her precisely where she'd been. His hands tremble a little as they hover in the air in front of her, waiting to make sure she didn't fall, glancing over her to make sure nothing was out of place, that she still had all her limbs. After a moment, he lets out a shaky breath and steps back from the shelf.

"No one touches Roach." He says firmly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Jaskier starts, and Geralt whirls on his heel, grabs Jaskier's wrist.

"Swear it." He says, squeezes Jaskier's wrist tight. "Swear you won't touch her."

"I won't." He sounds a little mystified at the afternoon's sudden turn, but he gently places his other hand over Geralt's. "I promise."

Geralt deflates a little with relief, loosens his grip and lets Jaskier's wrist slip from between his fingers. "She's..." he starts quietly, eyes averted, guilt and embarrassment creeping in over his sudden outburst. "She's really fragile. I... I didn't mean to... just, please don't touch her." He finishes weakly.

Jaskier agrees once more, reaches out and squeezes Geralt's hand reassuringly. They drink their beer in the living room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Months pass and his friendship with Jaskier deepens.

Then, he meets Yen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hmm." She says thoughtfully, arms crossed over her chest. "I like your stupid little horse."

Her tone is light, teasing, and it strikes him right through the heart all the same. But, at least she isn't trying to touch Roach. He pulls her down into his bed, and the conversation is forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They dance around each other like that for far longer than either reasonably should. Fuck, then fight, then silent treatment, only to fall back into bed and start the cycle anew.

He cares, really he does, and he knows Yen cares back, in her own way, but it's just all so... much. It's a little hard to take, most nights. As he lays there, unable to sleep, he catches sight of Roach out of the corner of his eye. His bed is cold and lonely, and thoughts of Yen won't stop swirling around his mind, and he just... he just wants to feel settled. Before he can talk himself out of it, he's carrying Roach down off her perch and curling around her to sleep with his old friend for the first time in a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later, Jaskier uses his spare key to open the door to Geralt's apartment after a few rounds of knocking goes ignored.

He's got snacks, and a six-pack of beer that he deposits in the fridge, before calling out into the apartment, announcing his presence. He gets back a muffled 'in here,' and opens the door to the bedroom to find Geralt planted on the middle of his bed, Roach cradled carefully to his chest. "Sorry," he says weakly, sniffling into his palm, "I- I guess I forgot we were supposed to hang out."

Jaskier's by his side in a moment, kneeling in front of him on the bed, gently brushing his hair out of his face. "Oh, Geralt, what happened?"

He shrugs a little, helplessly. "Yen and I broke up." He pauses for a moment, rubbing little circles into the back of Roach's head, and then adds, "For good this time."

Jaskier reaches out and gathers Geralt up in his arms, lets him tuck his face in the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry..." He mumbles, nosing into Geralt's hair.

"It's fine," Geralt replies weakly, voice cracking, "it was bound to happen sooner or later. We're kinda'... volatile."

Jaskier huffs out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that you were..." The past-tense on Jaskier's tongue hits Geralt like a bolt to the chest, and he chokes out a sob. "Oh," Jaskier croons back, reaching up to cradle the back of his head, "oh, it's alright... it'll be alright..."

As he collapses forward into Jaskier's arms, he lets himself be soothed by Jaskier's voice, his arms enveloping him, and the softness of Roach's fur beneath his fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later they kiss for the first time there, on his bed, in full view of Roach, which doesn't occur to him until later, but once it does it makes some small part of him wish he'd turned her around. She's seen enough of him, she doesn't need front-row seats to... that.

Then he realizes that she was also there for Yennefer, and he feels a sudden surge of guilt mixed with a healthy dose of shame.

His poor little Roachie.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time they fuck in his room, Geralt pauses with his hands on Jaskier's hips, blushing faintly. "Do... do you mind if I...?" He asks nervously.

"What is it, dearest?" Jaskier asks lowly, smoothing his hands up and down Geralt's bare chest, eyes all want and smoldering heat.

Geralt clears his throat awkwardly and lets go of Jaskier for a moment to reach up and carefully turn Roach so she was facing the wall. It's deeply embarrassing, but he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since he had the realization about his time with Yen. He turns back around, expecting to be mocked, but Jaskier looks nothing except fond.

He laughs a little, but not meanly, and wraps his arms around Geralt's neck. "Good call," he says, pressing a kiss into Geralt's cheek, "don't want to subject poor Roachie to anything she didn't sign up for."

The complete lack of judgement, paired with the nickname, has a surge of affection swelling in Geralt's chest. He grabs Jaskier by the hips once more, and gently tosses him onto the bed. Jaskier laughs again, delighted, and opens his arms to grab at Geralt, who happily follows after him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Geralt, look at this!" Jaskier announces from the couch, tilting his phone screen to the side as Geralt scoots closer and hooks an arm around his shoulders for easier viewing. "It's a stuffed animal repair service, but she runs a blog with pictures of the process and calls herself Doctor Beth. Isn't that the cutest thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt hums back. He glances at the screen, scrolls a little, but he quickly abandons it in favor of burying his face in Jaskier's neck and depositing kisses along its length.

Jaskier laughs and snuggles closer, but holds out his phone screen more insistently. "C'mon, Geraaalt," he whines, "you have to actually look. It's cute! You have to say it's cute."

Geralt flicks his eyes towards the screen once more, then away just as quickly as he deadpans the word "Adorable." right into the curve of Jaskier's jaw.

"You are the worst!" He announces, but he's grinning like a fool, and he turns his head into Geralt's affection all the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once the kissing has died down, and Jaskier is seated side-saddle in Geralt's lap, he pulls his phone back out. "In all seriousness," he says, tucked up comfortably against Geralt's chest, "it's actually very interesting. She's really good at her job-- look at this, the bear's practically rags before she reconstructs it."

Instead of trying to distract Jaskier again, Geralt dutifully listens, watching the pictures as Jaskier flips through them. She is rather good, he has to admit, and there is something interesting in watching the stuffed animal go from rags to repaired, in the same way it's relaxing to watch an episode of How It's Made. He 'hmm's again, though it's a more thoughtfully, agreeing sort of ‘hmm’ this time.

"I've actually been following her blog for a little while now, and... I was just thinking..." Jaskier fiddles with the edge of his phone case, "maybe you could... send Roach to her, and--"

"No." He says, swift and firm. The playfulness has left his tone entirely, just the thought of sending Roach anywhere enough to make anxiety race through his chest and his palms turn clammy.

Jaskier's mouth twists into a frown. "Oh... sorry. I just... I know she's fragile and I thought this might help, so I--"

Geralt slides a hand up and down Jaskier's back soothingly. "It's alright. Thank you, for thinking of her, just... I... I can't."

He nods in return and straightens up to press a kiss to Geralt's cheek. "Alright, love, whatever you're comfortable with."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now that Jaskier's said it, though, the thought won't leave Geralt's head. He scrolls through Doctor Beth's blog when he's alone, gets a feel for her track record.

Roachie is fragile now. Close to ten years with him, and she was already thin in some places before he got to her.

On the other hand, does he really trust some stranger on the internet to treat her right? What if she comes back wrong? What if, somehow, she doesn't come back Roach? He reaches out to run his thumb gently across her snout, looking to soothe himself, and watches as little tufts of fur come away under his feather-light touch.

He's already buried two Roaches. He really doesn't want to do again.

"Well, Roachie," he murmurs into the empty room, "third time's the charm, right?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He is the closest to a nervous wreck that Jaskier's ever seen him in the intervening weeks. He'd packed the box with Roach so delicately, gently surrounding her with bubble wrap so she didn't get knocked around and somehow lose pieces in shipping, and as soon as the box was shipped he took to pacing the apartment and checking his phone every twenty minutes. Jaskier thought it was endearing, if a bit worrying.

It drove Eskel and Lambert up a wall.

There were a lot of movie nights in those weeks in an effort to keep Geralt's mind off of things, but inevitably about halfway through the movie he'd get a bit of a distant look in his eyes and he'd reach down to feel his phone in his pocket, make sure it was where he'd be able to feel it if he got an email.

Waiting to confirm materials, what color cloth to use and what eye matched best with her other in his opinion, what to do about her now rather sparse tail and mane.

Jaskier would touch his arm gently, bring him back to the present, and he'd turn his attention back to the movie, maybe sling his arm around Jaskier's shoulders. It was nice, and very sweet to see him so very concerned, but Jaskier did wish he could do a little more to ease some of Geralt's worries.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There are, as Jaskier recalls, a few posts where people had sent in video of the results, of them opening the box and seeing their little stuffed animal friend all fixed up. And he knows for a fact Geralt's going to be excited to see Roach again, so when the box finally arrives and Geralt sits down on the couch with it, Jaskier opens up the camera on his phone without much thought.

And then has to set it down almost immediately.

As soon as the box opens, before he could even get his hands on her, big, fat tears start rolling down Geralt's cheeks. Jaskier drops his phone on the table without even bothering to turn off the recording, rushing forward to envelop Geralt in a hug.

Geralt's hands grip the edge of the box so tightly his knuckles turn white, and Jaskier holds him closer, runs his fingers through Geralt's hair soothingly. "What is it, what's wrong?" He asks softly. Geralt shakes his head.

"She just-- she didn't even look this good when I first got her and I--" He's cut off by another sob, and Jaskier holds him a little tighter. "I just can't stop thinking about e- every time she... she broke and I couldn't fix her and I h- had to just... just buy a new one and I... I..."

"Shh, shhh..." Jaskier quiets him gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. "It's alright..."

"I know, I know, she just... she's like new, you know?" He says weakly into Jaskier's shoulder.

That gives Jaskier pause. "Love... are you," he asks incredulously, "are you crying because you're happy?" Geralt nods, and Jaskier can't help the little laugh that escapes him. "Oh, my dear heart..." He murmurs, almost sickeningly fond as he nuzzles into Geralt's hair. "Why don't you pick her up, then? I'm sure she missed you."

Geralt reluctantly pulls back from Jaskier's embrace to look down into the box.

She really does look good as new, and Geralt's almost afraid to touch her. Maybe the new stitching isn't as sturdy as it looks, maybe she'll fall apart in his hands, or maybe she just won't feel right... He sucks in a breath and carefully curls his hands around her. All his breath leaves him in a whoosh.

He holds her in his hands, and something he didn't even know was unsettled, settles in his chest.

As he presses her close to his chest, she still feels like Roach.

Except now she looks like herself again. Whole and complete and strong.

"Thank you," he turns to Jaskier and wraps an arm around him, tugging him in close while the other keeps a hold of Roach, "I never would've done this if you hadn't brought it up. I... Jask... thank you so much."

"Of course, love," he says gently, carding his fingers through Geralt's hair, "got to look out for dear Roachie... where would you be without her, hmm?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, she's so much sturdier now that she's all fixed up." Jaskier points out gently, after a few quiet moments have passed. "She could handle... well. Being handled more, again. She doesn't have to live up on that shelf anymore."

Which, kind of had been the whole point, but Geralt hadn't thought it through in so many words. The tears come back with a vengeance and he sniffles into Jaskier's shoulder, clutches her to his chest firmer than he's dared to in years.

That night, he falls asleep with Jaskier behind him, and his old friend clutched in his arms, and it's maybe a little silly, a little childish, but it's the best sleep he's had in his life.

[spectralscathath]

Run Boy Run, This World is Not Made For You

Grown men shouldn't beat up kids. Mercury knows that in his bones.

Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8: "Fault". Ao3 link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hazel had left the room.

Mercury stayed perched in the alcove he'd lodged himself into, the Grimm muscle pulsing around him as he used the flesh and sludge to hide where he could in this place. When fighting and running failed, Mercury fell back on hiding.

He dropped down, boots silent despite their weight as he took quick, quiet steps into the room, just to see what all the fuss was about. Emerald was being boring and horndogging after Cinder with her fucked-up mommy issues, and Mercury knew better than to stay in any public areas in case Tyrian got bored and wanted to play a rousing round of 'pick on Mercury'. Fuck that shit.

He slipped in, the smell of blood and vomit hitting his nose. A luckier man would have flinched. Mercury barely registered it. He studied the tiny form in a fuck-ugly green jacket, the kid's back to him.

That was the kid from Haven. The Ozpin kid.

He noticed the kid was shaking at the same time he heard tiny whimpers, and it rang in his ears with too much familiarity.

a ring with a ram's head insignia, a fist with a missing finger, knuckles gnarled and knobbled like tree bark-

"you think you can talk back to me, boy?"

pain blooming in his eye, something cracking in his cheek-

Mercury shook his head and walked over out of morbid curiosity, prowling around the kid like a hungry dog slank around free food, suspicious of a catch.

The kid was in bad shape. His skin swollen and mottled with an ugly rainbow of bruises, one eye swollen shut and his nose crunched in like some kind of fucked-up bulldog, weeping blood and snot all over his face. His arms and legs were curled tight, gangly childish limbs pulled close to protect the squishy bits of the body, but he wasn't curled so tight into a ball. Mercury clocked the broken ribs from that alone, the way each breath wheezed and hitched extra confirmation.

The kid wasn't crying.

Not for lack of trying, however.

One eye was scrunched shut, tears clumped on the lashes as each attempt at a heaving sob turned into a reedy whistle, unable to get the air in for a real cry, unable to get it out either. Vomit coated the boys front, like he'd been hit in the stomach enough to empty his guts. Probably had, knowing Hazel's hits.

the heavy swing of leather before a metal buckle cracked against his forearm, thrown up in desperation-

a growl. an insult. a vice-like grip on his wrist, grinding the bones together until it hurt, wrenching his arm down out of the way-

skin split on his jaw, down to bloodied bone-

Mercury gritted his teeth, shoving away memories of a boy's voice, high and too young, whimpering and apologising for a broken rule that he didn't know existed until Dad said he'd fucked up. He'd been so fucking weak back then. Pathetic.

Eventually crying had turned to anger, and Mercury had gotten bigger, started yelling back, hitting back. Dad hadn't liked that.

His legs ached even though there was nothing there that could ache.

He dropped down into a crouch, a bloodshot green-gold eye opening as the kid finally registered someone was there, trying to cringe away like a dog that had been kicked, raising his hands weakly in front of his face as a shield. Mercury absently noted that forearms didn't bend that way.

broken fingers dabbing water into open wounds, trying to bandage them up as dad snored downstairs, a bottle in one hand and blood on the other. biting back any sound as he tried to fix himself up so he could do it all over again tomorrow. hide, found, beating, quiet. he just wanted it to end.

shaking hands with wrenched fingers did their best, but scars stayed forever.

"no self-respecting assassin uses just one hand, c'mere you little shit-"

The crooked fingers on Mercury's right hand had never fully aligned themselves, and sometimes he could tell a storm was coming when they started to twinge.

Mercury wondered what the fuck he was gonna do now. He'd sated his curiosity. He'd seen what was going on in here.

What now?

He should leave. Before Salem found out and he ended up a heap of blood and snot like this kid.

He should just go.

"you think crying out for help's gonna do anything, you fucking crybaby?" the rough smell of cheap whiskey made him gag. "ain't no one gonna hear you out here. toughen up and take it like a man."

No one ever helped. He had to kill Dad himself.

The thought of this kid trying to do the same to Hazel punched a laugh out of him, the kid flinching bodily at the sound.

Mercury reached for his belt, pulling out the utility knife he kept on the back, emptying his cargo pockets of the small first aid kit he'd carried everywhere, unwilling to ever part from the one thing that had been key to him making it this long.

Oscar flinched with every sound and movement Mercury made, a streaming hiss escaping between his teeth. Mercury paused for a moment, listening, and the breathy sound turned to familiar words.

"pleasepleasepleasepleasedonthurtmeplease-"

Mercury reached out with calloused fingers and gloved hands, cutting the kid's jacket off him with efficient movements before he began shredding the ugly lump  of fabric into usable strips.

He tapped the kid's jaw, carefully keeping it light. "Oi. Eyes open, squirt. Eat this-" he shoved the white tablet at him, garbage painkillers Merc only used whenever the pain that constantly wracked through his body became bad enough that he didn't want to move.

The kid complied, something under the mess of burst blood vessels and swollen skin pulling a face at the taste. Little fucker.

Mercury didn't say anything else, not knowing what to say as he used a formerly-disgusting jacket for makeshift bandages, not bothering to give the kid a count as he wrenched a broken forearm back into place and tied it off.

He dabbed away the blood, snot and tears, until the kid looked slightly more human and less like a butcher's slab. That big puppy dog's eye followed his movements, and the kid stopped flinching back from him.

Mercury finished his work and put everything away, metal joints creaking from being in a crouch for so long.

"... thank you." The kid rasped out, throat hoarse. Mercury didn't have any water to give him. Sucked for the kid.

"Don't thank me." Mercury stood up, dusting his hands free of the mess. The kid would learn. Any time spent healing meant more shit to break the  next day. Mercury was just prolonging the rest of the kid's life, probably because he was just as much of a sadist as everyone else in this hellhole. Attack dogs didn't make for healers.

"Try pass out early next time, if you can. Might work." Didn't for Mercury, once dad copped on and started waking him up. But hey, Hazel was stupid, could work on dumb muscle like him.

The kid looked like he was about to say something else, and Mercury walked away before he could.

"getting soft, boy."

No he fucking wasn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am Manifesting 'Oscar is the Dionysus to Merc's Hermes and therefore Merc is getting the kid outta there’   ✨ ✨ ✨

[ecrivant]

the station | annie leonhart

(annie leonhart x fem!reader)

that night, one marked by abject sin and rapture: annie’s single, inescapable memory.  she, forever haunted by this painfully raw thought of you.

c.w. – homophobic slurs

word count: 2.2k

a.n. – this is technically a reader insert but it’s honestly just an exploration of annie’s repression and sadness.  also, in general, i’m very wary of assigning gender to the reader, but the lgbt+ themes are important to this story, so annie’s love interest is a fem!reader.  i’m sorry if this excludes anyone, next piece will return to the usual gn!reader.  

very much an au + me experimenting with style.  

At the world’s marge lies a service station—carburant siphoned long ago, insides, bare.  Its skeletal façade abuts a backroad, a display of collapsing substructure succored by gusts of vagrants and drifters, cataracted from history’s view.  At one time, when you entered, the clerk would greet you from the left with a gaze that conveyed a hesitant familiarity—the type of trivial recognition that was unimportant in the moment but retrospectively haunting.  The lights within, garish halogen, were ceaseless, always alight, and only dared to die out once the ceiling caved, and the walls peeled, and the vinyl floor cratered like some artificial topography.  The edifice now no more than a nebulous memory only existing in the minds of those who ever once visited it.  

A memory nonetheless in the mind of the woman who fucks for the first time in a sedan parked behind the station, where the smell of sex and summer air and gasoline is seared into her brain as she breathes hard, lightheaded and high on ecstasy and fear. She feels her own death, a quiet specter which guides the touch of her lover.  Her burning skin; the eroticism of demise, destruction.  The nocturnal breeze gasps with her.

She offers to drive you home.  You—flushed and debauched, breasts exposed.  Eying her intensely.  You refuse.

“I can walk.”

She laughs.  Your name on her lips, a carnal, depraved prayer, “We don’t even know where we are.”

She is corrected. Curt.

“You don’t.”

She is gored, laid open and vulnerable and bare for this stranger who parts without another word. She watches you go, ambling towards the unlit dirt road, swallowed by a beastly darkness.  The vehicle, suffused by an amorous smog, windows opaque.  Her organs all but spill onto the floor, mixing with dust and dog hair and garbage and an old takeaway cup that was always there no matter how many times she threw it away.  

She slinks into the station and asks for a pack of cigarettes.  She pays in coins, a button among them, but the cashier never notices.

At home.

“Mama’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re gonna get an earful tomorrow.”

She’s already halfway up the stairs.  They moan beneath her.  

“She thinks you’ve been spending too much time with that Eren boy.  Is that where you was tonight?”

The stairs sound like you. Everything sounds like you—the gasp of a closing door, the sordid exhale of a creaking bedframe.  The sweat on her face: a lover’s curious tongue.

—

“Pull off here, ya’re low on gas.”

Prick prick pricks of fear smart on her skin.  Mama knows. The station, the unholy consecration. Mama knows.  This car, this place.  Mama knows.  Her brother in the back, resting on the shadow of his sister’s bare figure.  The pop of the fuel door says dyke.  The crack of the gas nozzle trigger says fag. The unseen eyes that bore through her say queer.  She enters the station to pay.  The clerk, a gaze of recognition—the only one who knows of her transgressions.  

—

She is married. Cheers to the happy couple.  She cries on her wedding night, tears staining bedsheets—her own virginal blood.  He touches her, stagnant, pale skin collied by bereft contact.  She only comes when she thinks of the station.

—

She could tell.  She could tell him and free herself, and then the kid’ll wonder why Mommy’s never around and Daddy’s a druggie and a drunk and never leaves the house anymore and the kid’ll make his way through the social services system until he’s beaten and cracked and broken like Mama’s old doll collection smashed against the wall and he puts a bullet in his head before he turns eighteen.  No, she could never tell.

—

Thanksgiving.  She stares at her sister-in-law—a city girl, with heavy lids and blush-dusted cheeks and a pronounced cupid’s bow.  The eyes of a hunter, the lascivious gaze of a she-wolf.  Her husband comments on how well they seem to get along.  

—

A loneliness begotten from her own bones, born from emptiness and the inimitable way she and death caressed all those years ago.  She only has a name to utter, breathless, when thoughts of you tenant her mind.  The first and the only fuck was truly a stranger, all but nameless in memory.  

—

Her mother’s funeral. An apathetic and unfamiliar affair. People she doesn’t know.  Her brother, his wife, their child.  Her husband, her child, her.  She could not be more distant.

Her childhood home smells sweetly of tobacco and cardamom.  

Indifference during the wake mistaken by the others for numbness.  She feels no need to mourn—her mother lived and died uneventfully, and that was it.  

“Mommy, are Grandma’s dolls going away?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“Do you think I can keep one?”

The boy has his eyes fixed on one in particular, his implicit selection.  The one that has your eyes.  The one whose gaze makes her squirm.  Mama knows.

“I don’t know, we’ll see.”

—

She sneaks away from the house with a pack of her mother’s cigarettes, the box crumpled and stained at the edges and the tubes inside wrinkled and mildewed, emitting a stench that filled her with inexplicable nostalgia.  It brings to mind her unshakable compulsion to eat cigarettes, to feel the flakes of tobacco coat the inside of her mouth like the ground dregs in a cup of cheap coffee.  She lights one instead, pushing the thought aside—if she was to ever eat one, she fears she would not be able to stop.  The low hiss of her inhalations on the ember briefly joins the sonic ambience.  She sits in her car and smokes and occasionally flicks ash outside of her window with shaking hands.  Rancid and familiar aftertaste.  Thick dust clouds kicked up by her car tires coalesce with her hazy exhalations as she drives nowhere.  Not nowhere. She needs gas.

—

The station still stands as it had before, insusceptible to time.  Always seemingly aged.  Covered in an ever-present grime.  She gets out and leans against her car and drags on her cigarette, the virulent inhalations scratching her lungs.  The road on which you disappeared all those years ago looked profoundly unremarkable during the day—just a long, dirt road in a town wholly comprised of long, dirt roads. The heat shimmers above the ground, and the afternoon sun drapes itself across her skin, and the hot breeze drags its fingertips through her hair like a lover you’d meet behind a bar—the same who would abandon that perpetually lit cigarette between her lips in exchange for her mouth on yours.

Her last drag—she drops the butt and crushes it underfoot.  

She sits in her car and smokes the rest of the pack—in her eyes, the final remnants of her mother.

She waits in the parking lot.  As if her presence alone would invoke some bygone wraith.  

Her hand reaches under her dress, between her legs, and she is touching herself to the pervasive miasma of summer breeze and carburant, and the darkness of closed eyes almost feels like the night, and her frantic digital movements are arrant pleasure until they’re not; she stops and is suddenly crying, and her thoughts are occluded by her mother’s pale, dead face, and she realizes that Mama’s death, mundane as it was, represents the furthest she’s been from that singular night years ago which was so verily marked by sin and rapture; the one that has haunted her and will continue to haunt her until she herself dies an uneventful death after an uneventful life, and her child thinks of her passing as she does her own mother’s: a nonevent among nonevents.  

She is met with understanding eyes as she returns to the wake crying.  

—

She moves to the city with husband and child.  Suburbia forgone.  The apartment is small and cramped and reminiscent of her sister-in-law’s.  The adjacent view from the living-room window is an identical high-rise—ten stories of the same brick and dirty-white AC units. She is filled with an ineffable sadness as she stares at the spare greenery in streets below, confined to plots of dry soil surrounded by cracked and potholed pavement.

Her sleeplessness often leads her to the living room long after the apartment falls to silence.  One night, she watches, captivated, as a couple in the adjacent apartment fucks on a couch, curtains wide open and shame forgotten.  The man, hovering above a body obstructed, is suddenly flipped on his back and mounted by his lover, and she swears this woman, breasts bobbing, and face marked by a concentrated intensity and unusually devoid of pleasure, looks like you.  

—

Two years in the city bypass her as if she were already dead.  The tenant who resembled you moved out the year prior.  

—

She sits in a booth sequestered in the corner of a dark and begrimed barroom.  Alone for the night.  Her husband no longer questions her bouts of silence and absences from the house and disdain for intimacy; her child, accustomed to fissure.  

She ignites a cigarette, her lukewarm liquor no longer of interest, and no one stops her.  She is indifferent to the other patrons, who were, at this point in the night, nothing more than hazy and incorporeal forms populating the shadows.

The chime of the door—jarring and tangible—cuts through the muted atmosphere and demands the attention of those there to give it.  Another specter drifts to the bar.  A woman shouldering something—a fact elucidated by a hunched posture and a quiet request for three fingers of scotch.  

And then the woman turns, and Annie sees her face.  

And suddenly she is collapsed on the scum-covered tile of the bar’s bathroom floor, hurling upchuck into the toilet.  That woman had your face—she is not you, at least not anymore, as Annie is no longer the girl who fucked and died in that gas station parking lot years ago.  But that woman had your face.  And she looked at Annie with your eyes, melancholic eyes which held no recognition for her, and turned away in the same movement.  Less than a look—a glance.  But that woman had your face.  And Annie had not seen it again before she hied to the bathroom to regurgitate four drinks and years of accrued and bilious agony.  

The bathroom door swings open.  Groaning hinges.  She knows it’s that woman who has callously co-opted your likeness.

She enters the stall next to her and pisses and flushes the toilet whose water drains slowly and weakly, and the sounds of the sink are harsh and cacophonous against the tile walls. Steps towards the exit suddenly pause. A knock on the stall door.  Your voice asks if she is alright—a voice unheard for decades, last encountered in a low, debauched whisper against her skin.

She heaves, again, but nothing is left to expel; she coughs and spits and does not answer.

“Can I at least help you get home?”

The question looms above her, looped and tied like a noose.  

“I can walk.”

A laugh.  Dry, unfamiliar, never heard.  It’s harsh and barking; a warning.  

She is corrected, curt: “You can barely stand.”

She had long been unacquainted with fear, now more often than not consumed by a vacant numbness, and she admittedly did not miss it.  It was ugly and pervasive and bore deep within her with debilitating potency.  She could do nothing but sit on the disgusting tile floor with body supported on yellowed porcelain and wait.  

She imagines she allows herself to believe this woman is you—you, as you were, unchanged—and opens the door. And you, being unchanged, ask if she would like to come home with you.  And she, apparently the same as well, says yes.  And back at your apartment, cluttered and cramped yet simultaneously vacant, you spare no time backing her into the bedroom, lips tethered to hers in lurid predation.  Touches that are lustful and intimate and familiar only to her.  She cannot bring herself to care that you do not remember her—your breath on her neck and your incursive touch efface all thoughts, good or bad.  She wants you on top of her, around her, within her, and you oblige like some prurient altruist.  Her coming is purgative and cathartic, and the pleasure of that night at the station feels archaic and antiquated in the face of this wholly new gratification, heighted by an immense and prolonged yearning.  And this time, after you are both finished, you do not part and neither does she, and she embraces you in a way that feels intrinsic, and you ask her to stay the night. And she does not think of her husband and child as she says yes.  And she does not think of her husband and child as she agrees to spend the next day with you, as she dances with you in your living room, finally and only feeling held and loved.  Finally, finally, finally.  

—

But Annie says nothing. And the woman—not you, but an apparition—softly and finally knocks on the door with the side of her fist, unfazed, and walks out of the bathroom.  And even now, as she slumps further and shuts her eyes and clutches her head, Annie can only think of that fucking gas station.  

—

hi there!  thank you so much for reading; i hope you enjoyed this piece.  it’s a little different than my other stuff, not drastically so, but still different.  i think i like it, though.

thank you to the anon who suggested I write something for annie, i really appreciate the request.  i have another request in the pipeline for reiner, so expect a piece for him soon. 

as always, feedback and criticism are very much appreciated!  feel free to drop in and request something if you want.

taglist: @flam3bird

[huearmy]

Life is Beautiful - III

Summary: You are a glass half full person, your life motto is “Life is too short to… Insert something and anything here”. During your whole life you wanted something more, and even not knowing what it is, you put yourself to find out and get it, experiencing everything  brilliant that the world offers - within the measure of what is safe, of course. The curious thing is that your way of living ended up rousing  the interest of two vampires. One who sees beauty in everything and  loves to exist, currently working with suicide prevention; and another one who no longer sees grace in things, in that boring immortality that never ends, and only complains about the Netflix catalog all the time.

Pairing: Jimin x reader / Taehyung x reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, mature (not really a smut i guess?)…

Words:   8k+.

Rating: +18

Warnings:    As much as my writing is soft and light, and as these are not the main  topic of the story, treated in a non-descriptive way, there are sensitive themes from the beginning of the first chapter to the end of the fic that can trigger sensitive people, like depression, suicide, addictions in general - Jimin literally works at a suicide prevention center here.  SO PLEASE! Read responsibly, my intention when dealing with topics like  this is always 1) dealing with them in myself, as a way of putting out  part of my own healing process 2) generating identification in other  people, so they can go through the difficult time a little less alone.  THIS IS A STORY THAT SEES THE WORLD WITH POSITIVITY.

Chapter I Chapter II -

As soon as Jimin left for his date with you, giving one last thanks kiss on Taehyung's cheek, the house suddenly became darker and too huge, all the colors and brightness going away with Jimin's presence.

Even after a few minutes Taehyung was still on his spot in the middle of the living room, where he wished his best friend luck. What should he do now? How should he spend his empty time? He looked around, bored eyes not fixing on anything in particular. He slowly walked to the kitchen, just because it was the first door in front of him, and without thinking at all, opened the fridge. Since it was the refrigerator of two vampires, obviously there was only one thing inside, a few bags of blood labeled by type, and nothing more but empty space. It had been a few days since the last time Tae had eaten, and it was nowhere near as much as he was used to consuming, or as much as Jimin wanted him to take. He could feel his stomach empty, but he had no desire to take even a drop, almost feeling sick at the idea. He closed the fridge.

He sighed. A whine caught his attention to the floor, a tiny, cute, confused Yeontan looking up at him.

"You would never leave me, right?" Tae asked with a pout. The puppy just whined again. Tae picked him up, right in front of his face. "I need to find a way to turn you into an immortal creature."

With the little dog firm in his arms he got back to his room, seeing no other option on what to do than play video games till Jimin's return. His colorful neon set up welcoming waiting for him. Games are just uninteresting as series and movies, but at least playing online, with unknown, and often hostile, people, he feels a little less lonely. He has kind of some friends or so called, he doesn't really know any of them, never have met them in real life - he doesn't even want to - but it's been a while since they occupied an important part of Tae's existence, just for being his company.

He played with the loud people till around four in the morning, keeping himself silent in the call for most of the time, just hearing them teasing themselves and picking silly fights over nothing from time to time, talking only when someone talked directly at him. Then the mortals one by one go to bed, and he goes all alone again. Even Yeontan is soundly sleeping.

What should he do now? And why didn't Jimin come home yet? It had been more than ten hours since he left... He got into the bad habit of getting home in the morning, betting on running in the sun, almost killing Tae with worry. Maybe he had so much fun that he lost track of time, maybe there's another cat to find... But what if something bad happened? Should dates take so long to end? Should Tae call? He never calls, today shouldn't be any different... Maybe he would get in the way of something fun or important, the last thing he wants is to bother Jimin...

At the end Taehyung was standing by the front window, hiding behind the curtains, not moving a muscle, waiting, as usual. The street was empty, no light coming from the other big beautiful houses's windows, no cars or pedestrians to observe, yet that was what he was doing. The dark sky started to light up, his eyes adapting to it, the sun showing up painfully slowly. A movement caught  Tae's attention, his side neighbor taking the trash out, like he always do on tuesday and thursday, and in the other days the old man still wake up pretty early and sit at his porch to watch the sun rise, drinking coffee, with his old cat on his lap. Taehyung saw him in this routine with three different old cats at different times. The old man practically dragged the black bag of garbage and himself down the sidewalk to the dump, with short and slow steps he went. As always. Maybe there was something wrong before and Tae didn't notice, maybe it was because of the wet grass and mud formed by the storm the night before that they still didn't dry, but the old man fell a few feet from the curb, and for some reason he wasn't trying to get up.Like, he was moving in some way, but wasn't getting up.

Taehyung waited, not blinking an eye as he stared at the man struggling on the ground, immeasurable torturing seconds. Then the man stopped moving at all. And something kicked inside Tae. He didn't even think, he couldn't. He was unable to stop and reason about it, or control his own body... To look out the window and notice that the sun had risen enough to illuminate the front door that he was now opening at full speed. When the sunlight touched his skin, it burned like hell, forming instant painful blisters, but he didn't hesitate and just ran outside. Straight to the old man, catching him without stopping and then crashing their both bodies on the porch.

"Hey, are you ok?" Tae choked, feeling his lungs burning. "Sir!"

The man didn't respond, instead he was emitting weird choking sounds, heart not beating the right way. Even before his self isolation, Tae didn't have too many experiences with mortals than casually knowing them and drinking from them, he knows they are fragile, but he doesn't study or get interested like Jimin, he didn't know what was happening. Was this man having a heart attack? A stroke? What should he do? He doesn't know the symptoms of their diseases... Jimin would know... But now Taehyung was all alone and half of his mind was focused on his aching skin that seemed to be melting into the sun itself. With his trembling hand Tae reached to his phone in his hoodie's pocket, already dialing.

"What is your emergency?" A voice came from the other side.

"H-hello... Good morning... I..." He stammered. "My neighbor passed out in... infront of his house. He is not ok. He is old."

"Noted. Please calm down. Can you tell me your address so I can send an ambulance?"

"Sure..." Tae recited the address he only uses to purchase things on the internet. "It's a big white house, with a big porch."

"An ambulance is already on it's way."

"Thanks..."

Taehyung tried to sigh in relieve, but now he couldn't stop thinking about his own bad situation. The porch was providing shadow for him to hide, but for how much time? And when the paramedics would come and see him like that, what would they do? He didn't have the strength to run back home, the morning sun is not so strong, but exposing himself to it's light twice is suicide. And he couldn't enter the neighbor's house, there was no one to ask permission to. There wasn't no one to ask for help. He was going to die alone. When Jimin arrived from his date all he would be able to find would be Taehyung's ashes... Nothing more...

"Jiminie..." Tae was crying now, dialing the only number registered in his contact list.

Just one second - literally - later his friend's voice greeted him.

"Yes?" Jimin's voice came like a whisper, a happy, satisfied smile audible in it.

"Jimin? Are you coming home?" Tae tried to sound calm, so he wouldn't ruin everything with Jimin date experience and all, but his voice betrayed him, showing nothing but the fear he was feeling. He just didn't want to bother.

"Tae, what's wrong?" Jimin mirrored his feelings now. Tae breathed once, the air burning inside, and then practically vomited the words of nervousness. "I'm outside, on our neighbour's porch. I can't go back inside... The sun will reach me, Jimin. I don't know what to do." He was panicking, the world around him was spinning, getting him overwhelmed.

"Keep on where there are shadows no matter what. I'll be there soon. Don't cry ok?" Saying to him not to cry had the exact opposite effect. Once again, vampire's tear ducts are basically dry - especially after almost being charred, their bodies retain all possible liquid - but the other symptoms of crying happen, and it can be quite dramatic from the outside, as if they were faking it. But the sobs and the lump in Taehyung's throat were very real.

"Jimin?" He called,he could hear Jimin and another voice on the other end of the phone, but he wasn't paying attention, he couldn't, instead his eyes fixed on the line of the sun on the wall, approaching him and the faint neighbor. "Don't leave me alone..."

"Just go, your friend needs you."   Tae looked around, searching for a place to hide, finding nothing but the old man's rocking chair, it wouldn't do much to cover him from the sun, but was his only option. He crawled across the floor to the chair, knocking it over with a loud sound of wood hitting wood, and laid curled up like a ball behind it.

"Jiminie?" Tae voice sounded petrified, he really was. After decades not stepping out  the house, the very first time was at minimum trumatic. "Yeah? I'm here."

"Can we stay on the call till you get here?"

Taehyung was terrified. They both were. If he was going to die he didn't want to be alone. He was feeling so pathetic.

"Of course, my soulmate." Jimin said, as soft as he could. "I'll be there in no time tho, so it'll be a short call. Don't worry."

"Please, drive safe." Tae whispered.

Jimin laughed, not a really fun laugh.

"I always drive safe, Taehyung, safety first."

"Liar." Tae pouted.

"Well, how can I save you if I don't pierce some red lights on this beautiful not so busy morning?" Jimin questioned, trying to bring some humor to the conversation.

Taehyung sighed, feeling the heat of the sunlight approaching him.

"You won't be able to save me if you get in a crash... How much time?"

"One minute." Jimin was tense.

"Ok."

Coming from the end of the street, around the corner, the ambulance with the siren on approached and stopped in front of the house. Two people in paramedic uniforms ran towards the porch with their equipment, heading straight for the old man lying by the door. Tae hugged his legs against his chest to get smaller, hoping they wouldn't' see him hiding behind the chair and just do their saving people thing. "Oh my god! There's another person here!" The paramedic woman said in horror, probably shocked by Taehyung's very burned skin. "Sir are you ok? Can you hear me?"

Tae whined. What if they try to put him in the light?

Before the woman could even get close to him, another high-speed car came from the end of the street, screeching, and instead of stopping beside the curb, like the ambulance, the sports car driver climbed onto the sidewalk parking on the neighbor's grass. Jimin came out of the car covered by a big black umbrella, stride and the jaw tight. "Ignore our presence and continue your work helping the old man. You won't remember us as soon as we leave." Jimin ordered, his eyes shining colorful shades as the paramedics got hypnotized and obeyed him.

Half a second later he was beside Taehyung, replacing the chair, covering his friend with a long black coat.

"Taehyung... I'm here."

"Jiminie... You came."

"Of course." He helped Tae to sit up. "Can you get up?"

Tae nodded and with Jimin's help he got on his feet. In silence they both walked below the umbrella to the car, and then Jimin drove back to their underground garage a few meters ahead. If time seemed to run desperately fast before, now it has stopped completely, leaving everything in slow motion and numb. As the large door behind them slowly closed they were swallowed by the darkness of the garage, their silhouettes static and tense, the only sound being soft aching whines. Gradually Taehyung's senses returned, he became aware of his surroundings, the other cars parked in a row, the light from the corridor coming through the door's frosted glass, the scratching of Yeontan on the other side waiting for them, the smell of a mortal someone who he did not know impregnating the whole car they were in... especially in the passenger seat he was in. He hadn't died in ashes, burned by the sun in a minute or less, and he didn't know what to feel about it, whether it was relief or awe.

After a long time Jimin sighed and left the car, one second later he was beside the other to help him. None o f them talked anything as both of them got up to the second floor, or while the bathtub filled with water and music was placed in the background to fill the silence.

"Take care as you wash that, and drink..." Jimin whispered, seating beside the tube as Tae got in, holding out a pack of blood to his friend.

Tea hissed as the water touched this burned skin, aches staying on its surface.

"Thanks." He took the pack, his voice little. Another long silence. "Aren't you going to ask what I was doing outside?"

"It hasn't even crossed my mind yet, to be honest. I was too worried about you..." Jimin pouted, resting his head at the side of the bath, facing the ceiling. "Thinking about it tho, is pretty obvious... Just be careful next time you help someone, please."

"I'm not good at it like you." Tae took a sip slowly, he was waiting to be scolded by Jimin, for some reason. "Sorry to make you come earlier, this way... I didn't mean to screw your date..."

It made Jimin smile. "You are the most important and constant thing in my life Taehyungie." He took a deep, full of emotions, breath. "And you didn't screw anything, Y/N was super understanding even if she was just half awake, and I can just talk to her later and make things out. She knows you are everything to me."

Tae just humed.

"How does she know I'm everything to you?"

"I told her. Silly"

"Cool." Tae's lips formed a tin timid smile, that's a nice thing to hear after such a stressful experience after all. "Hum... Can you wash my back? I can't reach it..."

Jimin knelt beside the tube and took a wet towel, taking all care to not put too much strength on his hands as he rubs Tae's injured skin. Almost like magic - almost - the water made the blisters to dismantle, releasing more ash on the surface, yet it would take a lot longer to heal properly. The better was just feeding and sleeping now, at least que floor was full of empty packs, perhaps as much as a healthy vampire should have taken in two months.Taehyung hissed when a specific one stung more when it burst.

"I feel like hibernating." He yawned.

"You should. Take all the rest you need." Jimin agreed, reaching for the hand shower, to also wash Tae's hair.

Tae closed his eyes as the water ran down his face.

"Will you stay close... taking care of me?" He asked in a small voice.

"Of course. We are a clan, we take care of each other hibernating bodies." Jimin joked.

And Tae laughed. What a rare, beautiful sound.

"A clan of two." ________________________________________________________________

You were waking yourself up with strong coffee in the kitchen, in pajamas - not that you slept in them, right, but it was your usual home clothes -, considering if you should spend energie making pancakes or just go back to bed and procrastinate to do all the house chores and study, and just daydream about last night instead, soon it would be lunch anyways... Your roommate, on the contrary, was in full swing, walking around with the vacuum. All her energy was draining yours, all you wanted to do was lie down and stare out the window with silly smiles gracing your face.

You drank all of your coffee at once before opening the latest rental listings you favored - all in the same region you already live in, or reasonably close to college. None of them make your heart warm as your current home, but you can't do anything about it, you need an apartment you can rent.

"Baby Y/N, There's a package for you down stairs." Lydia entered the kitchen.

"For me? I didn't order anything." You crooked your head in confusion.

She disappeared for a second on the corridor, then got back.

"I'm pretty sure it is for you... I'll get it for you." She smiled.

"Thank you, Lydia." You waved at her, calling her by the name she chose to herself inspired by the Beetlejuice movie.

Not wanting to be a vegetable all day, you got on your feet to wash your mug and then start your day properly. You have laundry to do, tons of assignments to catch up, and a new home to find. Maybe you should search for tiny student studios, you could live in just a claustrophobic room and bathroom for sure...

"The delivery guy was super cute. He told me it's a surprise someone sent you, that's why you didn't know about it."

"What the heck..." You laughed, feeling your heart skipping a bit.

Lydia placed a brown paper bag on the counter, clipped to the top of the package was a handwritten note in a letter you don't know, probably from someone at the establishment who sent it. You picked it, and as you started to read, a smile grew on your lips.

I'm still sorry we didn't have breakfast together, to make up for it I sent this little treat, I hope you like it, Sweetheart. - Jimin.

"No way, that's so sweet." Your roommate commented over your shoulder, where she read the note too, taking advantage of being much taller than you. You opened the package to find a beautiful slice of cake, it looked delicious. Apparently Jimin found the ultimate path to your heart. The part of you that like to be spoiled was dancing in happiness.

"You didn't tell me how the date went yesterday, but it must have been good..." She took the restaurant brochure from the bottom of the bag. It was an expensive establishment. "We did a lot of fun things..." You said with a smile with double meaning. "I'll eat this in my room! Bye!"

Said that you took the cake and ran back to your room on your tiptoes.You put it on the desk and took a selfie smiling beside it.

You: Thanx! <3 <3 <3

You sent the selfie and waited, unpacking the plastic fork that came with it, ready to taste. The reply, however, came faster than you expected.

Jimin: Can I call you now?

Could your heart burst even more? Instead of replying you called him already.

"Hey, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" Jimin's sweet voice said.

"Like a baby. Thanks for the cake."

"Did you like it?" He was expectant.

"I don't know yet..." You were trying to open the plastic packaging with one hand, and failing miserably. You couldn't hold a self pity laugh to escape. "Just a sec."

You put your phone down and opened the cake packaging and taking a bite, a delicious bite. Still chewing you got the phone back at your ear.

"I like it." You decreed with your mouth full.

"Good." Jimin's voice dropped an octave, and it took him a while to continue. A very low music played in the background of the call. "You're not mad, are you? Because I ran out this morning..."

To be honest you were a little bitter, yes, at first when you woke up in the empty bed you didn't remember talking with Jimin earlier, the memory came to your mind just when you were brushing your theet minutes later, but because of the reason presented, and because Jimin didn't show signs of being a guy just interested in having sex with you and then disappearing right away, you pushed the feeling aside and gave the benefit of the doubt. He gave you cake!

"Not at all, Jimin." You smiled, so he could hear it in your tone. "How is your friend? What happened?"

"He got burnt... While trying to cook. Boiled oil." Jimin faltered. "He will be ok in two weeks."

You got a seat on your bed.

"Oh. It was bad then." You never had worse burns than sunburn for not using sunscreen, the kind that peel off for days afterwards, so you couldn't even imagine. "Tell him I wish him to get well soon."

"I'll tell him. He is a baby when he's not well. I already took two week out of work so I can take care of him properly."

"Two weeks?" You tried not to pout. You wouldn't see him at work for two weeks, if you would see him at all.

"Or until he tells me he needs me." Jimin didn't notice your swing of humor. "So I was wondering, since I won't be seeing you at work... What do you think about me picking you up at the end of your shift to take you home? So we see each other as usual and you get home safely, and faster too."

You were not expecting this. "Jimin, you don't need to... No need for you to wake up late at night because of me..."

"I've traded the day for the night for centuries now, sweetheart." He laughed "I won't be sleeping at this time, it won't cost me anything to pick you up. On the other hand, I'll be able to see you."

If before you were a little bitter, now you were just sweet.

"We can also hang out another time... If you're free." You suggested. "Is that proposal to meet your dog still standing?"

"Of course, sweetheart. We can appoint that."

"Nice..." You look around, searching for something to keep the conversation up. You were not fast enough..

"I'll turn off. Ok?" Jimin said.

"Sure. I have tons of clothes to fold..." You let a self mockery laugh out. "Till soon."

"Bye bye."

He was gone. And you were alone with your expectations and a piece of cake. Still, your whole mind was full of Jimin to think of, so you fought your will to spend the day in bed after a long and hectic week, and a long and fun night, and got up to do your chores, putting on the headset and playing on the list of lively songs to tidy up the house. Is a super fun playlist you have, would it be nice to send it to Jimin? Maybe you should make a playlist for him... Yeah it would be nice. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin turned off the phone and looked at Taehyung's sleeping face. After the bath, he made his friend drink some more packs before putting him to bed, and only after he promised once again not to leave Taehyung alone, that he finally closed his eyes and let the deep sleep take him. Hibernation is to make the vampire stronger, so that they can heal from wounds or even emotional trauma, to rest fully as almost no other creature on earth can... But it is also the most vulnerable moment for them too, so great clans have great dungeons very well kept. Now, these two young vampires only have each other.

Tae's skin was full of round spots the color of recent burns, a pale pink, not pretty, even if the boy himself is the most beautiful creature. His eyebrows were still tense, as if he's still afraid. "I'll be here when you wake up, silly." Jimin massaged the center of his forehead lightly, trying to make him relax, and brushing his hair out of his face. "I have nowhere to go."

At the very beginning, Jimin was alone, since his first memory. All by himself he lived as a wanderer. Until that man came and offered to take care of him, turning him into an immortal, in return all Jimin needed to do was call him a master and be loyal. There were others besides him, a girl very much like the master, a concun lady, a tall woman with long hair, a man with a serious face. The master called everyone a family, each had his role, as a joke, Jimin was the eldest son... Still, he was still alone. He never bonded with any of them, even if he tried.

One day he just walked away, all by himself, as a wanderer. The world was beautiful to see, to know about, to experience, even if all alone he would be happy living like this. He traveled and visited places he didn't even know existed, even after becoming a vampire the world was too small for him at first. Then he started to expand this world. Decades after his emancipation he met Taehyung on a train. The boy was a newly transformed vampire, lost, not knowing what to do or where to go, scared with all things that happened to him without warning. Unlike Jimin, who was a planned transformation, Taehyung had been an accident by a very inexperienced and foolish vampire, who didn't even see that his prey was not dead when he ran away. He was dealing with everything alone.

Jimin offered to take care of him, in return Taehyung should be his friend. They were the cure for each other's loneliness, and nothing in the world is more important than that.

So, for hours, lying next to his sleeping friend, Jimin stayed, and stayed. He would move from there only when the bloodthirsty sink in - or when Yeontan needed food etc. Never getting too far from Tae's room. ________________________________________________________________

Two days went by till Jimin felt his throat dry and stomach hurting and got down to the kitchen. The fridge was empty, literally, all packs ended after the incident. "I need to get more..." Jimin muttered to himself. "Dog food and snacks are also running out... And I could buy some... I'll make a list."

He pulled out a stool and sat down at the kitchen island, and opened his notes. Messages of yours popped up on the screen. You: hey. I wanted to make a dad joke.

You: about being tired

You: cuz im tired af

You: but im toooooo tired to think

You: [image.jpg]

Jimin opened the image of you with a sleepy face hidden by your hair and the hood of your hoodie, while you turns over a can of energy drink in a coffee cup. It was a cute fun photo. Since your date you both have been texting each other nonstop, as soon as you are awake and until you go to bed, your fun photos and not so fun jokes making him feel less lonely or bored or sad or weird. Jimin: I don't think this mixture is very healthy.

You: probably. but i didnt sleep.

You: tday is my shif!!!

You: i need to stay up :(

You: [image.jpg]

A photo of you in dramatic despair.

Jimin: I'll pick you up. Ok?

He put the phone down and stretched. Jimin is used to interacting with people every day, and having Taehyung when he gets home, and the last few days without that was enough for him to feel the change and be uncomfortable with it. He is a very friendly individual who needs other's presence, anything he has to do at home is too boring when there's no one to appreciate it. He likes to dress up stylishly to just go out to walk, just to feel handsome and gorgeous. Now he was bored. Still the idea of going out, letting Taehyung alone and unprotected, even for five minutes, was eating him inside.

You: r u sure?

You: you don't need

You: i said dat already.

Jimin sighed.

Jimin: Yes. I'm sure.

Jimin: I want to see you.

And he needed to get blood too. All he wanted you to say was something to motivate him to get out of house, or else he would be in this deadlock, not knowing what to do.

You: i want to see you too

That will do. Jimin's smile got wider.

Jimin: Then there's no reason to not give you a ride today. See you later, sweetheart.

He left the conversation with you and went to another whose contact was without a name or photo to identify. Jimin: I'm going to pick up my orders today. Please get everything ready.

As usual no answer. Jimin got back at writing down his “grocery” list, consisting of things for dogs, personal hygiene and cleaning products. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin finished dressing and looked in the mirror, beautiful as usual, but not feeling as good as always. He checked all the windows and doors in the house, to make sure they were tightly closed, emphasizing those in Tae's room. He checked if there was water and food for the doggie, and replaced the pee mat with a new one. Everything was in order, but he still felt anxious when he kissed his sleeping friend's forehead before leaving the house. "I'll be back soon... I'll just pick us some food." He whispered, feeling bad for half lying to Taehyung, even if he was unconscious, and feeling weird  about the idea of admitting he was leaving to also see you.

He left, letting the room's door open so Yeontan could enter freely, and went to the garage. He still hadn't taken the time to clean up the ashes from the burnt skin that was left in the seats of the car he was using, so he passed by it, choosing another one, a model not so sporty, but equally expensive.

The streets were silent and empty, as the clock showed it was three in the morning. The only real movement he saw was of bars and clubs, as he crossed the center of the city. One or another homeless man lying under a marquee, with his old blanket and cardboard protection. In other circumstances he would stop and interact. He tried to focus only on the music playing on his phone, his favorite among those on the playlist you sent him.

Jimin finally arrived at his destination, parking in a vacant spot in a practically empty parking lot, in front of a private hospital. He wore a shoulder bag from the back seat of the car, and bypassing the front door of the emergency area, he entered through an exclusive entrance for employees. No one would see him or notice his presence. Having done this hundreds of times and knowing the way by his hand, Jimin guided himself through corridors all the same and antiseptic until he reached a pair of doors with a "Blood Bank" sign on them. "Good night. I have an appointment." He politely said to the nurse at the front desk. "Is Seokjin here?"

"Good night. Yeah, is his shift today." She held out a key to him, sleepily looking up. She was a human, but she knew what he was and why he was there for.

"Thanks." He went through the corridor behind her, passed by the lab and the blood donation collection room, and called the elevator at the end. The only option to go was the underground. Six seconds and he was in a very clean room with a too white illumination. There was no one to be seen beside metallic cabinets and refrigerators, and also an empty metal table.

Jimin waited.

From a heavy metallic door came a man. A really handsome and gracious vampire in resident doctor uniform. As he saw Jimin an enormous charming smile spread on his face.

"Oh, you are early. I was  finishing to separate your order." He sang.

"Hi, Jin. Anything special today?" Jimin put his bag on the table, and his hands on his pockets.

Jin clearly noticed his bad mood and tension.

"Not really, there's a lot of O+ and some A+. We haven't had many different donations this past week."  Jin cruzou os braços. "But as usual I kept the ones with the most delicious smell for you, the very healthy ones. As you and Taehyung are picky eaters."

"That's why I only negotiate with you."

Jin smirked and left the room with the bag, back through the same door. He used to help young vampires, teaching them how to hunt properly, as the centuries passed he started his little business of blood selling, good origin, discreet and without victims. Despite working directly with customers at the local point, his scheme is huge, practically a monopoly.

Jimin looked at his fancy wristwatch, you would be out of your shift in a little bit more of half an hour, and he should stop by the grocery store in the way.

Jin came back with the bag obviously full now.

"Everything is sealed and refrigerated but put in the fridge as soon as possible." He said as always. "And send my kisses to Tae, he doesn't respond to my messages for days now. Sometimes I have time to play with him."

Jimin considered telling Jin about Tae's condition, but opted for not doing it. This issue was something for the two of them to deal, and only them.

"I'll tell him. He loves playing with you on call."

Jin noticed Jimin's hesitation.

"I know. Bye." He didn't comment anything about tho.

"Bye, Jin. ________________________________________________________________

You like your job, you really do. Is something you feel needed as you do it, powerfull, helpful. Is something you believe in. But now, after a whole day deprived of sleep, full of stress on college, not finding somewhere to live next month, and mostly, after the last call - a situation you want to forget - you are destroyed, Crying pathetically in the bathroom was the most coherent thing you could do. You just hoped the mental breakdown would come in a place other than the office bathroom, and preferably it would be at home, where you could cry yourself to sleep in your flower pajamas, hugging your stuffed dolphin.

You stopped to wash your face and tried to breathe calmly. It wasn't the end of the world, you can handle this. Your supervisor already released you a few minutes earlier - because you were no longer in a position to work - so all you had to do was gather your stuff and wait for Jimin to pick you up.

As usual, your heart accelerated just thinking about seeing him again, especially now that you are a thing, this feeling compared to anxiety and stress is just divine. You: i'll wait at the lobby.

You: was released earlier today

You threw some notebooks and pens into your backpack and locked your personal locker before checking your belongings again - be careful is never too much - and went down the hall to the stairs. Jimin: No need to wait. I'm already here.

You almost jumped the last stair steps to the ground floor, passed by the concierge's empty space behind the counter, and before running out, checked through the glassy door if you could see Jimin or his car. At first you didn't find him, and was about to text him again, but then he lowered the window glass and you can see him in another car, different from the other night. You gaped at him - you're a very impressionable countryside girl - and got into the passenger seat.

"Good night, handsome." You said, putting your heavy backpack on the floor between your feet.

"Good night, sweetheart." He lost no time and reached to peck you in the lips, slightly holding you chin with his fingertips. The butterflies in your stomach were crazy. He studied your face closely. "You look dejected, did something happen?"

His care made you smile.

"Stressful day, lot of little things. It got hard on me today, but just it." You shrugged, an amused tone in your tired voice.

"Want to talk about it?" He cupped your face with both hands. You did the same to him.

"Honestly I want to sleep." You giggled. "What about you? You don't look the best either."

He sighed. Your care made him happy too.

"Just feeling lonely and stressed too." He licked his lips, thinking what he could or could not say. "I don't like to be trapped at home. I need to take care of Tae, but he is...  not well to make me company, so I'll be lonely till he is ok."

You looked confused but tried to understand, choosing not to ask any more questions. Jimin didn't quite explain what happened to his friend, but it seemed like something serious, and if he didn't want to give you details, you wouldn't insist. "That's sad. I hope he is ok soon." You timidly pecked him, hoping this would make him feel better.

It worked. With a grin Jimin pulled away and started the engine.

"There is something I can do?" You asked, still wanting just to be sweet to him.

Jimin made thinking pout, and you wanted to take a picture of it, not fast enough.

"Spending time with me would be awesome." He answered, making you hum. Your routine is so busy and hectic that having time to see your friends is always a miracle, because you either have work and college stuff or you just want to sleep. You started to count on your fingers what your next break is so you can hang out with him. He continued, however, already having his own idea. "Why don't you come to my place to sleep with me?"

Your chin dropped, but it wasn't what you first thought.

"You want to sleep and I want company. If we cuddle it will be the best combination of our necessities being solved." He proudly smiled.

A soft smile fell into your face as you melted. Life is too short to deny cuddles with the guy you like on what you’ll now call your second date.

"Sure."

"Wait, really?" He looked at you with round happy eyes.

"Yeah. Of course. Just borrow me a pijama or something."

To get out of the way of your place he turned the wheel abruptly to enter a return that he was going to miss one second later, crossing all the lanes of the empty avenue. For a second you got startled but then you were giggling at how excited he was at the idea of taking you home. Well, you were excited to take him home too, nothing more fair. As you moved away from the city center, to more noble areas, full of beautiful houses and buildings, you started to expect that any one of them would be JImin's house, but he just kept driving, until you were no longer exactly in the city, and some mansions started to appear in the landscape. Looking at these huge, clearly expensive homes, you wondered how many bathrooms each has. Jimin, on the other hand, was considering what to do to feed you and make you comfortable, slightly freaking out because there's nothing to eat either in the fridge or in the cupboards other than a box of cereal he bought to win a collectible gift. Did he need to do something to make you feel more comfortable? He never received visits at home... "I need to tell my roommate and my mom that I'm not spending the night at home..." You murmured to yourself.

"Your mom too?" Jimin frowned. "Doesn't she live far away or something?"

You smirked looking at your phone.

"Our city is four hours from here, but I always ley her know where I am. So she is not worried. Besides, we talk all the time anyway..." "Oh." He thought about it. "You two are good friends."

You nodded.

"In the way of moms and daughters." You noticed the car was slowing down.

"Can I send her a photo of yours? Just so she knows your face?"

"Women have to be careful, right?" He commented, thinking that it is useful to know the face of the man that your daughter is seeing if something bad happens. He read a lot of things about it on twitter, and being a vampire himself he knows how bad things can happen too.

"Yep." You made a face. "But I want her to see how hot you are. She asked for a picture before but I didn't have a good one."

Jimin was between blushing and smirking. But vampires can't blush because the blood doesn't circulate, so you didn't see that reaction, just the burning look he gave you from head to toe. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and died. Before you could take the picture you noticed that you were now parking at a garage, and your chin dropped  at the sigh of six more cars - seven in total, counting the one you guys were inside. The garage itself was bigger than the apartment you currently live in. Just the idea of so much money intimidates you a little.

"Take a selfie, then." Jimin passed an arm around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Ok." You did as said, the flash illuminating the inside of the car. "You are also photogenic."

"And you are beautiful." He looked at the photo with a cute smile. "Send it to me too. Come."

He left the car and you followed him closely behind, he carrying your backpack for you. He took off his shoes to get in, and so did you, wearing the pair of cloth slippers he offered you. You grabbed the sleeve of the black blouse he was wearing, despite the low light available looking at the whole house over his shoulder, the hallway, the living room, the stairs, everything huge and spacious, and you noticed too, with a very masculine yet artistic decoration. Definitely for you, only two people living in this whole space is strange. In your family you are in six occupying a much smaller house. Whas that a grand piano?

"It's a nice place." You thought you should say something. "Cool design."

"Tae is responsible for that. He's a very visual person."

"I see."

He took you to the second floor, straight to his room. He dropped your thing on an armchair and looked around, expectantly. It was cute, there were some plants and drawing like you sometimes see him doing at work, an ukulele on the wall... It was as you could imagine his room would be.

"I don't have a clue of how to make you feel comfortable... What should I do?" He was honest.

You smiled sweetly and took his hand on yours, and he knew if he had a beating heart it would have stumbled at the sigh.

"I'm ok. Comfy clothes to change would be nice tho."

He kissed your forehead with a grin.

"I can manage that." And he measured you from head to toe again, now really to get a sense of the size of the clothes he needed to get you. And then left through the pair of the closet's doors.

As you waited you kept looking around and took a seat on the king sized bed, you were tired after all, feeling your eyes heavy and feet hurting.

"Jimin where is the bathroom?" You barely articulated the words.

"What?" Jimin came back with some clothing in hand.

"Bathroom..."

He gave you a fondly look and deposited his clothes - a t-shirt slightly bigger than you and a soft fabric shorts that seemed to fit you - on your lap.

"Next door on the left, near the stairs to the attic." "Thanks." You picked the clothes and your toiletry necessaire and crawled out into the hall.

On the way there was only one door on the right side of the hall, which you hadn't noticed the first time you passed it. A door ajar with an ambar lamp light coming from inside. Without thinking too much you stopped to look and saw in a bed who you imagined to be the friend, Taehyung, sleeping in the center of another big bed. He looked like those illustrations of Snow White in the crystal coffin, beautiful, flawless, but pale as a corpse, the face emotionless. He looked so unreal, felt like if you touched him he would vanish away like a dream. You don't know how long you were looking at him, a few meters away, but you only managed to look away when your heartbeat became too loud in your ears. And only then did you realize that you had walked a few steps towards him. You hurried to the toilet and closed the door behind you as if something was chasing you. Looking in the mirror, you couldn't name what this feeling was. More than quickly and still shaking you changed, washed your face and brushed your teeth, and to go back to Jimin's room you were with his head down. He was already in bed waiting for you in a pair of silk pajamas, and frowned when you walked in. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope." You denied it too quickly, embarrassed to say something like 'I saw your sleeping friend in the other room and for some reason it made me nervous'. Then you smiled shyly and climbed into the bed. "Excuse me."

Jimin interpreted your fast heartbeat as shyness and pulled you close as soon he could reach you. You snuggled into him too, and your eyes felt heavy once again, the smell of him calming and slowing you down. Before you finished settling into a comfortable position you were asleep. ______________________________________________________________

Then you had your cute cheesy morning with Jimin, as you wanted. He was with his eyes open when before you, holding you tight as he scowled through his phone behind your head. You looked up and the first thing you thought about was how unfair life is. In addition to the slightly messy hair, Jimin was beautiful as always, without the sleepy face or puffy eyes of someone who just woke up, it gave you a mixture of emotions of ingenuity and admiration. You sure looked like a withered dumpling.

"Goomorning."  You murmured against him. "What are you doing?"

"We have no food, neither me or Tae cook, so I'm ordering you breakfast. Did you sleep well?" He kissed your nose, as he added croassaints to his order - he couldn't let you enter the kitchen and see all the literally empty cabinets, the only exception being a very suspicious bag, full of blood bags, inside the fridge, that he put there yesterday without you noticing, using his superhuman speed.

"Babier than yesterday." You reached for your cell phone too. "Shit, I have a seminar about neuro-physiology in fifty minutes... Where's a bus stop nearby?"

Jimin looked at you confused, for not understanding the reason for your question right away and then for having no idea what to answer. He doesn't take a lot of buses to know where they pass. "Don't worry about it, I can call you a car. And so it's time for you to eat without haste." As much as you enjoy being pampered and cared for, you are the type of person who feels guilty when others do it in excess, especially when they spend money on you. And you're starting to feel that way with Jimin. On the one hand you want to accept everything he may have to offer since technically you have no reason to deny it, but on the other hand your paranoid mind can think of several uncomfortable reasons. Your insecurities also arise to say that at some point a handsome, rich guy with two degrees like Jimin will eventually be bored with you, a poor, broken, screwed to finish your first graduation, so why not enjoy it while it lasts? Damn, that also makes you very guilty... That's why you only have poor and fucked up friends like you. Jimin raised his eyebrows at you, and then you realized that you hadn't answered anything yet, and just debated the subject a lot inside your own head. "Ah... Ok. Thanks." You stuttered. Your brain just wasn't about to form full phrases.

He holds you tighter.

"Don't be shy. You are keeping me company, the minimum is to guarantee your transport." He took your face in one hand and kissed you slowly, lazily, and you returned it with a sigh. With his lips still on yours, he whispered in a hoarse voice that made you shiver. "And if I don't treat you well, you won't be back... And I want you to..."

You were about to answer the flirt, but a sharp bark interrupted you.

"Puppy!" You sang, rolling to the edge of the bed to see a little dog with pretty expressive eyebrows barking and jumping beside it.  By the power of all the cute things in the world you spoke in baby voice. "Own... cute. Hi hi, buddie." "Come here, Tannie." Jimin whistled.

The puppy got rid of your  anxious for pets hands and ran to the other side of the bed, and appeared a second later, jumping onto the bed and over Jimin. You rolled back, also leaning on Jimin to look the other way. "Do you have a ladder for him to climb on the bed?" Jimin smiled with your enthusiasm about it. "The whole house is adapted to be accessible to his little tiny legs." He said. You put your hands on your chest. "Oh, no. My heart." Jimin sat up to peck you again before getting up, stretching slightly. "He wants to eat, otherwise he wouldn't be here. Just a sec." He picked up the dog and left.

You pouted for not playing anymore, but you understand, you were hungry too, and you had to get up and get ready soon to go to college, or else you would get late. You jumped out of bed, got your things and barefoot even ran to the bathroom. The door to the other room was now closed, yet you felt a shadow of the feeling of the night before and went by it as quickly as possible, without looking in the direction. After that, you took a quick shower, ended up borrowing a t-shirt from JImin, because to wear the same shirt from the previous day was out of the question, you had a great brunch from a expensive bakery that you had never heard of, played a little - too little - more with Yeontan, and went to college by car, something totally new to you. The rest of the day you were chased by the desire to see Jimin again, to go back to his house and stay there, in the bubble of good things he gives you, by the feeling that you somehow don't deserve it, and by the almost scary feeling  that you felt when you saw a complete stranger in his sleep.

Notes: I said I would update it before 2021! HAHAHA Sorry it took a whole life! IF YOU WANT TO BE ADD TO THE TAG LIST LET ME KNOW. FEEDBAKC IS GOOD TOO. ____________________________________________________________

Tag list: @ireallylikeyourwriting @angrygardenerr​ @depressed-dude20 @milktaetae95 @tangledsparkles​  @wlalsrkfla​ @minikolima​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @midiplier

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Prompt: Sara, having voted for Shin to die, in the classroom (or lab?) taking Joe's dog keychain

“Alright, it looks like this room is all clear,” Sara spoke up, just loud enough to alert the two allies who were trailing behind her. Ranmaru, bandaged hands shoved lazily into his pockets, gave a quick nod, and Keiji scratched his neck in assent. 

She moved down the hallway, still rather cautious as to what traps could be sprung at a moment’s notice, finger poised carefully on the map. She couldn’t quite discern what kind of room was up ahead, and that only heightened her anxiety about what she was about to face… but nevertheless, she stepped a steady foot into the room.

Sitting before her was a painfully familiar sight, dredging up memories that, in any other circumstances, could have been fond. It was her old math classroom, without a doubt, the one she’d spent years sitting in with Joe sitting right beside her. She’d resented it once, because Ryoko wasn’t in the class with her and she was seated next to the most painfully cheerful person in their grade. 

Oh, how she’d feared receiving endless mockery from Joe or her other classmates; after all, Joe was so peppy, so lovely, and she’d spent her school years stewing quietly in the corner of the room. 

It felt silly to look back at those fears now, after how long Joe had been her best friend and after how many secrets and wonderful moments she’d entrusted him with. 

It felt even sillier to look back on those regrets now that he was gone. She’d been so sure that she would have all the time in the world to make amends for those fears of him, that she’d have all the time in the world to shake him awake when he dozed off in math class or to fall asleep on the school rooftop during lunch as he kept a watchful eye on her, knowing how badly she needed that sleep. 

Sara had been a very future-focused person, a stark contrast from her cheerful best friend, but he’d often shattered her intricate plans for university with his own proposals for how they’d live life after high school. Karaoke and doner kebabs every day, he’d suggest, or they could volunteer at the animal shelter.

“Imagine how much free time we’ll have when we’ve graduated,” Joe would daydream at lunch. “And we’ll have money, too! We can do whatever the hell we want, all day long, and nobody’s gonna be there to stop us.”

“You know, we’ll have to get a job in order to have money,” Sara would always counter, looking forward to the way his face would crinkle with disappointment at that response.

“Not necessarily,” Joe would say back, overdramatically raising his finger. “We could get a job play-testing things at the arcade and then we could spend our days doing that.”

Sara would roll her eyes and flick a chip crumb at him, and then the two of them would devolve into raucous laughter that couldn’t help but attract stares from their classmates. They’d taken the future so lightly, always believing that the only things laying ahead of them were university and work and retirement. They’d never once imagined a future that didn’t have the other in it. 

But, Sara realized as she stood paralyzed on the threshold of this relic from a past she’d never be able to return to, some futures simply aren’t meant to be. 

Had Joe come to that realization at any point, or had he died with peace in his heart? She couldn’t help but hope for the latter.

“Sara? You doin’ alright?” Keiji’s voice pierced through the room, and she glanced over her should to find him fixing her with a very concerned stare. She knew exactly what he was thinking, knew that it had probably taken him a mere glance around the room to realize what thoughts it was meant to bring. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She gave a confident nod, as much for her own sake as his, and stepped into the room. There was moonlight twinkling through the windows, almost a carbon copy of how the classroom had looked when she’d woken in it the night of the kidnapping. She’d always thought the school had looked a little odd in the darkness, a little too cold and empty for her tastes. Now, though, with the pang of loss still stinging through her brain, it seemed even colder and more unforgiving. 

She stepped carefully through the room, fingers gliding over each desk as she walked past, trying to memorize the sensation of the grooves of wood against her hands. Slowly, carefully, she approached her desk... and found that there was a bookbag neatly perched in the seat right behind hers.

His seat, his bookbag. 

“Hey, uh, you want me to check that out for you?” Ranmaru was quick to step forward and make the offer, face creased with worry. How much had he been told about the events of the game? Had he seen the portrait of the bloody boy in the same uniform as Sara’s and put two and two together? 

Sara hesitated, then… “yeah, go ahead.” 

Ranmaru nodded solemnly, then reached into the bag and rummaged around in it before pulling out a very familiar object. “What’s this? Some sort of… dog keychain?”

It was remarkable how different it felt to see the keychain without the plague of hallucinations constantly weighing on Sara’s shoulders. No more bloody apparitions stirring in Sara’s subconscious, no more nauseating guilt threatening to spill out. Just a heavy ache in her heart at the sight of all that was left of her best friend.

“Did this… did this belong to that Joe guy or somethin’?” Ranmaru gripped at the keychain a little tighter, turning it around in his hand to examine it, and there was a clench at Sara’s heart.

“Give me that, Ranmaru.” Keiji’s voice came out cold. “Sara, don’t look at it.”

“No… no, it’s fine.” Could they hear how raw her voice was? “I don’t have to deal with the hallucinations anymore. It’s alright.” 

The other two of her allies fell deadly silent, and she could only pray that they would listen to her. It was true that the real keychain was still nestled snugly in her pocket, close to her heart where nobody could ever hope to hurt him again… but this was Joe. Copy or not, she’d grown fond of seeing that keychain in Joe’s pocket, knowing that it was a symbol of all his affection for her.

He couldn’t carry the keychain to graduation anymore. It had fallen into the timeless garbage pile of shattered promises and futures that would never come to be. But she would do her best to make sure that she kept his promise alive, even if he couldn’t.

“Ranmaru… please give that to me. It’s very… very special to me.”

Hesitantly, Ranmaru handed the keychain over, and she was swift to pocket it. Perhaps she’d be able to give one to Ryoko, as cheap as it would seem, and they’d both be able to cherish their own individual remnants of their extinguished sunshine. 

“Can… can you guys leave the room for a bit? I know there’s more to explore, but… can I have a few minutes alone?” Her eyes were still fixated on the carefully-carved wood of the desk, refusing to meet theirs.

After a long, weighty pause, Keiji spoke up. “...Alright. But call out for help if anything happens. And don’t take too long. We still need to catch Midori, alright?”

“Alright.” 

She waited with bated breath until their solid, clicking footsteps faded away and the door fell shut behind them… and sat down at her desk. 

The silence of the room consumed her, broken only by the gentle whistle of automated wind pushing against the windows. They were far too underground, surely, for the night sky to be authentic, but even the quiet ambiance brought its own flavor of peace. Even in her own quiet solitude, she felt foolish tracing her fingers over the wood of the desk, wishing so stupidly that he might be there to listen to her. 

“Hey, Joe,” she spoke up quietly. “I know… I promised I wouldn’t cry over you. I know you’ve never liked to see me cry, I know it makes you miserable… I’m sorry. I hope, wherever you are, if you can even hear me right now, I haven’t made you miserable. I certainly hope you aren’t punching yourself.” She let out a quiet, heavy laugh. 

Oh, the burden was too much to bear, and she quickly reached for the dog keychain, the one she knew was real, the one snugly nestled up to her heart. She gazed into the beady eyes glinting in the moonlight, trying to reclaim her courage… and saw only his smile in that plastic one. 

Joe’s dopey, foolish smile, the smile that was such a perfect brand of stupid that only he’d managed to master it. The smile he’d given her whenever he’d told a good joke that managed to make her laugh, or when something genuinely good happened and he was practically bursting with joy in anticipation of telling her. 

She hated that the last time she’d seen that smile, it was bloodstained and heavy with exhaustion.

It was so foolish, that out of all of the things that could possibly still haunt her, his smile had done the trick. The clatter of the hairpin on the floor, the way she’d spun hoping upon hoping that maybe he was still alive, maybe she could salvage him and they could go home alive and happy… only to be greeted with that dumb, beautiful smile. Drained of life, eyes dull with the promise of death, mouth dripping blood, he’d beamed up at her with such happiness pushing against the pain… and then she’d watched him die, still smiling.

Stupid, stupid Joe Tazuna, who could smile even in the face of death if only so his best friend wouldn’t cry.

And she’d failed him.

She’d taken the hairpin, though, even blinded by tears and grief. It was just a bobby pin, one of the many he’d use to keep his hair up all day. She couldn’t begin to recount the amount of times she’d slept over at his house and watched him style his hair with gel and pins, grinning when he’d catch her eye in the mirror and wink at her. He’d always offered to style her hair, but she’d always refused, joking that she didn’t want her hair to look like his and giggling when he gasped in mock offense.

Now, though, her motions were slow as she closed her eyes and reached her hands up towards her head. Carefully, tenderly, she slipped the hairpin into her hair, tightly securing her braid. She could almost fool herself into thinking he was the one sitting behind her, doing her hair with such care and precision. 

“I miss you so much, Joe,” she said, eyes closed. “God, I miss you more than I’ve missed anything in the world. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get us out alive. I know… wherever you are, you’re probably happier. I guess this was just never meant to be, huh?” Her voice broke. “It hurts to sit here and know you’re not sitting behind me, to know you’re never gonna sit behind me again. I know you’re gone, and I know I shouldn’t be crying over me, I should be smiling so you’re happy.”

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve, staining it a darker blue. “We’ve broken so many promises, haven’t we? But… I’m going to get out alive, and I’m going to tell Ryoko what happened, and I’m going to carry this keychain to graduation. That’s one promise I refuse to break.”

The tears took over, then, but as she cried the room grew a little warmer. For a fleeting second, there was the phantom weight of a warm, bangle-wearing hand on her shoulder. As she stood up, though, it dissolved, leaving only the whisper of her words behind and the vague echos of affection in her ears.