#or disappearing after leaving a goodbye message for months then finally coming crawling back just for him to absolutely lose it

[designedparadigm]

y'know. wishlist is at some point i do want simon to lose to the persona he built that is ghost. to finally be so fucking broken down by the world that the intrusive thoughts that he deems as ghost finally win out. the day he finally causes irreprable harm to someone he cares about - and immediately lets go of how he felt and pushes through to cause further harm. he doesn't stop until physically separated (via person, room, whatever).

bad ending for ghost where he just full detaches. angst where he really genuinely fucking hurts whoever cares about him. turning his back. unsaveable. finally crossed that last line.

[dramatical-gatsbytalia]

Coming Home

Written for @hey-a33butt for the SidLink gift exchange!

I picked the prompt Coming Home because I wasn’t sure if you’d be too pleased with my first idea of sparring. I wanted to do the fight in the parking lot from Superstore but put into BOTW. And yeah. I didn’t think that would fly ^^;

Enjoy!

Title: I’m Coming Home

Summary: Link and Sidon have been courting for some time, both before and after the slaying of the Calamity. But they are never able to stay together for long. But they talk about it. And when that day comes where Link can come back to the Domain for good, that final ‘Welcome Home’ hits all the right spots.

 There was nothing like looking at the night sky in Hyrule. So many gorgeous stars. Even the three red beams that pointed towards the castle didn’t deter from their beauty. And there was none more gorgeous than the one laying next to him.

Sidon had felt the pressure of the last few months coming down on him in that moment, the aching and pining he had been feeling ever since Link had calmed Vah Ruta and set his sister’s spirit free. He sometimes felt like he couldn’t describe his feelings for the Hero of Hyrule, the little spitfire of a Hylian that didn’t speak much but knew just what to say at just the right moment.

Sidon knew his head was always full of words, it was evident in how often he praised him and how varied and enthusiastic those praises could be. But in this moment he couldn’t find the ones he wanted to say. The reason he had brought Link out here, to set a romantic mood and see if he could find his way into Link’s heart the way that the other had crawled right into his. Instead of telling him, he instead asked what the other would do once this journey was over.

“What will you do when you defeat the Calamity?”

Linked glanced over at Sidon. They had been friends, and he wasn’t sure how things would stand with them after this evening. He hoped Sidon would say something, he knew there was this special connection between them. Everyone in the Domain could see it in the way their Prince lit up when he heard of Link’s arrival or how he’d compliment him or how sometimes he just couldn’t stop talking about him and would end up lost in thought with the goofiest smile on his face.

It had taken him so long to see it himself. But when he did begin to notice it and that realization dawned on him, that his own feelings for his ‘best friend’ went far beyond that of any friend, it made his chest feel warm and happy. Like he was…he was…

“I suppose I’ll go home,” Link finally said.

“Where is that?”

Link shrugged. “Dunno. Suppose there’s Hateno.” Oh, right. Sidon remembered Link mentioning his house in Hateno. “Though after everything I would think Zelda might want to rebuild Hyrule Castle and Castle Town. So who knows. Maybe that will be home.”

Sidon swallowed. It was now or never.

“What if you came here?”

Link’s eyes went wide. He had gone and done it. And Link was thankful for it too; as the embodiment of Courage he didn’t know if he’d find enough strength to let Sidon know of his own feelings.

“To the Domain,” Sidon continued. “Everyone here adores you.” He rolled to face Link, then reached out to take his hands. The Prince’s large ones engulfed his, but it made that warmth in his heart spread throughout his body. “I adore you,” he finally added on, and that was all Link needed.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. A promise. To one day return home.

----

The celebration that followed the defeat of the Calamity was widespread and took place over many months. Each faction wanted to congratulate and honour the Hero and Princess and their unshakeable bravery. Perhaps it would have done some good to collaborate and hold a grand ball and feast as a united Hyrule. But everyone wanted to do their own thing. And so it took longer for Link to fulfill that promise to come home.

“You won’t stay this time?”

As of late there had been too much build-up of wanting to see his lover. Link would find times to sneak off with the Sheikah Slate to go to the Domain any evening he could. Some nights they would lay outside and watch the stars, just as they had the time Sidon had confessed his love. Others they would cuddle together and do nothing but talk. Or well, Sidon would talk. Link would mostly listen, add in a few things here and there.

Some others their snuggling would turn to heavy petting, and result in evenings of passion, only stopping for a moment’s rest or to watch the sun rise. This was one of those nights.

“You know I can’t,” Link said, reaching out and touching Sidon’s cheek. “We finished our tour of Hyrule, but we have only just started rebuilding the Castle and New Castle Town.” Sidon sighed. He had been receiving almost daily correspondence on how things were moving along since the two had reached the castle once more and clean-up had begun. It felt torturously slow, and Sidon couldn’t help but feel somewhat neglected. The depth of his love for Link and his undying faith in him were enough keep him going, but he sometimes couldn’t help but hold a bit of resentment. Whether it was towards Queen Zelda or all of Hyrule keeping them apart, he wasn’t sure.

Link leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You’re mad.”

“A little.”

“You know we can always stop. We don’t have to continue this if it’s causing you that much trouble.”

Sidon shot up at that idea, distressed that he had caused Link to think that. “I would never!” When Link looked at him and started to smile he pressed forward with defending himself. “I love you too much to even entertain such a thought, Link! I just…” he stopped, squeezed the sheets, wished he wasn’t prone to such jealousy and selfishness. “I just want you to come home.”

“I know,” Link said, and he sat up as well, leaning in once more to gently press their lips together. “I love you too. And I want nothing more than to return to you for good and not just keep sneaking around on my free time to be with you.” Link pressed his forehead against Sidon’s crest. “Just be patient. Please?”

“But for how long?” Sidon knew of Link’s duties, but it still came out as a bit of a whine.

“I don’t know. But it will happen. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

They left it at that. A few hours later he kissed Link goodbye, watching him disappear in a swirl of blue light to return to New Castle Town, returning to fulfill his promise to help rebuild and train a new legion of guards.

He would just have to learn to be more patient.

---

The second anniversary of the Calamity’s fall was quickly approaching. Sidon’s own duties done for the day, he couldn’t help but look out at the starry sky and think of that night he had asked Link to join him in the Domain. A promise two years old, and while he was working on his patience the loneliness Link would leave behind felt unbearable some days.

“Pardon me, your Highness?”

Sidon turned, surprised that the Captain of the Guard would want to see him so late. “Yes?” he asked, and when Bazz stepped forward he saw that there was a letter in his hand. “What’s this all about?”

“Forgive me for not giving this to you sooner, my Prince. But I hadn’t had the chance to meet with you ever since the Rito Courier dropped this off this afternoon.” Sidon nodded in understanding and took the letter, when he recognized Link’s handwriting addressing it to him he nearly ripped the letter open with his teeth. Not quite taking it too far, he was able to curb his enthusiasm a bit, but did still ended up scrambling a little as he fumbled with it to get it open without tearing it to shreds.

The message inside was short and sweet, but still moved Sidon to tears.

“Prince Sidon?” Bazz asked. “Is everything alright?”

Sidon nodded enthusiastically, unable to stop himself from launching forward to embrace the Captain in his joy.

I’m coming home.

---

After receiving the letter Sidon had no idea just how long it would take. But he knew it would be soon. He rushed to finish any royal duties he had during the day and finish up his training each and every morning. Anything that required immediate attention he would wake up and the crack of dawn to get done so that by afternoon he could stand by the bridge and wait.

It took four days. But on that fourth day he was unable to stop himself  from running to greet him as soon as he saw that telltale tuft of blond hair peaking over the horizon. And with a hearty and tearful laugh he scooped Link up, spun him around, pecked his cheeks with several kisses as Link laughed along with him.

“Welcome home, my love.”

[misterghostfrog]

39 FOR THE PROMPTS PLEASE AAAAA

LOOK OK, i’m going to start by saying this one... got away from me a little bit. And I didn’t originally mean to combine the prompts, and neither are technically correct. BUT consider you can’t stop me

39. Kissing tears from the other’s face.

30. Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.

Cw; This takes place after the unknowing but before Jon wakes up in canon, and Martin starts in a rough headspace. Also accidental compulsion.

(This is actually a sorta part-2 to the pre-unknowing ficlet I did! Tho u don’t gotta read it to understand it works as a standalone too. Anyway welcome to the AU ZONE)

EDIT: fixed a typo

Martin usually visits Jon on Thursday.

He used to visit every day. But the nurses began to give him looks after the first month, and it was hard to balance checking on Jon with regular life things like groceries, laundry, and work. So he’s cut back. If only to preserve his sanity.

He considered Sunday. But Sunday is the day he visits his mum, another thing that has been hard to balance with- well. Everything. Besides, it’s hard to stack that much heartbreak into one day.

The receptionist gives him a funny look. He would give himself a funny look too, he looks a wreck, he knows it. She knows him, so seeing him on a wednesday looking like he crawled out of the back end of hell. Or maybe just hasn’t done any laundry for a few days. Or showered. And got in a fight and lost.

He’s already waited too long though, he thinks. He... well. It’s his last chance, he supposes. If Jon isn’t coming back, then...

Yeah.

It’ll be for the best.

He turns the knob on the door, he knows what he’ll say. Even if he’s talking to a dead man he needs a speech apparently. And-

He bounces off of something- or someone. Who trips back a step in turn.

“Oh god- I’m so sorry-” He says almost automatically.

“No, don’t worry about it I wasn’t-”

“I wasn’t even looking where I was going a-and-”

“Really it’s fine-”

The man isn’t a nurse, Martin’s sees that much. He’s tall-ish. Handsome, certainly. Definitely no-one he’s ever met. And certainly no-one he thinks might have a reason to visit Jon. Not that Jon shouldn't get handsome visitors, but- well. He doesn’t- didn’t? Have many people outside of the institute he ever talked about. And so this guy turning up out of the blue is... well.

“Er- I’m sorry, but who... who are you?”  He’s not- he’s not upset. that this random stranger is visiting Jon. It’s just weird is all. Yeah. Really weird, actually.

“Oh! I- I’m- I’m a friend of Jons.” The man says with an awkward smile, his eyes darting down to his shoes for a moment as he says it. “Er- Antonio.” He tacks the name on like an afterthought. This time his gaze flicks somewhere around Martin's shoulder, he shuffles on his feet.

Martin’s never been an expert at picking up on lies, not to say he’s bad at it. He just doesn’t find it something to worry about generally. But it’s hard not to notice when ‘Antonio’ is basically holding an imaginary blinking neon sign that says ‘I AM LYING’ with accompanying metaphorical Morse code with the same message.

He swears he’s heard that name before though.

“Oh. Er- he’s never um, talked about you?” he says carefully.

“Oh, yeah. Very old friends. Haven’t um- talked in a while.” ‘Antonio’ waves a hand awkwardly. And casting consistent looks towards the elevator.

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway! I’m uh- I’ll be going now. Visits over stuff to do y’know.” He’s already walking away as he says it, backing up for a moment and casting a quick wave before trotting away down the hall.

“Oh, y-yeah. Sure, bye?” Martin waves- though ‘Antonio’ isn’t looking. Watching as he basically runs down the hall.

“Bye!” ‘Antonio’ throws over his shoulder as he turns the corner to the elevators.

Well then.

“Huh.”

That’s not how he thought this visit was going to start.

He pauses for a moment. He’d been working off of something of a momentum. Check in with the nurse, make his speech. And be ready to say his goodbyes. But that... whatever just happened. Well, it threw him off.

He sighs.

It doesn’t matter. Weirdo visiting Jon. Seems about right, actually. If he thinks about it. Probably left a statement somewhere too, just to complete the weird weird picture.

The word ‘weird’ is starting to sound less like the a word the more he thinks about it.

He pushes the door to the hospital room open, he knows he’s imagining it. But the air feels heavier. The dread of the situation. The finality. Jon is still there, unmoving in his hospital bed. There's several machines tucked into the corner, they’d unhooked him from everything after the first month when it became clear that this is simply his state of being. That’s also about the time the nurses started telling him Jon probably wasn’t waking up.

He’s not going to wake up. Martin knows he’s not going to wake up. He’s been fooling himself for so long but now with the flesh attack he needs to do something. Or at the very least stop feeling like he’s doing nothing. But being miserable isn’t a solution either. 

Maybe there is no solution. Maybe it’s just, problems. Stuff he can’t fix or deal with and just- has to let it follow him until he dies.

He shifts, and his ankle twinges.

He’d tripped. It’s so stupid, it wasn’t even the monsters. He’d just- fallen and ended up hiding in a side room while everyone else dealt with meaty things crawling out of the floorboards. Just sat and hid and did nothing.

He’s tired of doing nothing.

Jon snores, interrupting his train of thought.

Martin smiles, god he’d forgotten Jon did that. Those little snorting snores- he’d only heard them a few times, back at the institute. It had scared the hell out of him the first time he’d been living-

Wait.

What?

Martin blinks. And watches as Jon scrunches his nose, making a small irritated noise- and turns over.

What.

His head skips, rewinds. Plays what he just saw back. Jon is breathing, how long has he been breathing? Doesn’t matter, he’s breathing which means he’s alive but what-

That weird guy. “Antonio”

He’s gone, Martin knows he’s gone. But he checks anyway. Even running all the way to the elevators. But he’s gone.

And Jon...

Jon is alive.

The thought hits his brain, and then slips away like a wet fish. There’s no guarantees. This could be a fluke, this could be a trap. It might not even be Jon. Just... something that looks like him, and snores like him. And-

A nurse taps him on the shoulder. And he realizes he’s been staring at the elevators for, well, he doesn’t know how long. Long enough to catch several concerned glances from passers-by though.

“Are you alright sir?” She asks, politely. He recognizes her, he chatted with her once when visiting Jon. She’s nice. She does the check ups a lot of the time, one of the few who’ll actually do it.

“He’s alive.” He says flatly, instead of answering. Because he’s not sure what the answer to the question is anyway.

The doctors do tests, though not many. According to them he’s fine. Fit as a fiddle aside from some fatigue and a little confusion. Which clearly makes them uncomfortable. Which he understands. A man wakes up from a three-month coma like he’d just rolled out of bed on a Monday morning? It makes him uncomfortable too, he thinks.

Basira drops off a statement. ‘Just felt like I should’ she’d said when he asked why. And neither of them felt particularly good about that answer.

After the statement he’s fine, not even fatigued. He’s alive.

He keeps looking at Martin.

Martin isn’t sure why he doesn’t want to look back.

Maybe it’s because it still feels like a trap, all of a sudden he comes back with no- no fanfare no effort. Right as rain and just... there.

Nobody else wants to deal with him right now- not after he just pulled a Lazarus like that. Jon wants to go to the institute. But Martin isn’t having it. He just woke up from a three-month coma. He’s going home. And yes- his lease apparently expired before the unknowing, so he doesn’t have a place to stay. And yes the only person willing to give him a place to stay is Martin. And Martin... well, it’s Jon. and even if it wasn’t, in the wake of losing three months of his life- and a friend. Or someone who had been a friend at a point before this all went to hell. He wouldn’t leave him alone for anything.

Martin tries to force himself to come to terms with it as they both climb into his car- this is what he wanted. He should be overjoyed. But it feels... it feels like if he looks at Jon for too long he’ll just... disappear. Or stop breathing again. Or stop being Jon.

“Good to see not too much has changed while I was gone.” Jon says wryly as he wrestles with the seatbelt. Which squeaks as he struggles to pull it out far enough to actually fasten it.

Martin just hums in response. Not trusting his voice not to betray whatever it is he’s feeling right now.

The drive to his flat is mostly quiet, aside from a few awkward attempts at conversation from Jon that all fall miserably flat. Eventually he gives up, and the rest of the drive is spent in silence. 

It’s not too far from the hospital to his flat. So before he knows it he’s leading Jon up the steps to his home.

It’s not much, he knows. Can’t afford anything truly fancy when carrying medical bills around. But it’s nice, homey. He hopes.

“Home sweet home.” He says, dropping his keys on the table by the door and hoping he sounds cheery. Because he doesn’t know what else to be right now. He’s figured out what emotion he’s feeling, though he’s not sure it counts as an emotion honestly.

Numb. 

Stupid, isn’t it? 

“The bathrooms down the hall- I think your stuff’s all in storage at the moment,” his voice wobbles at that, he swallows “so we’ll have to go get that soon. You can help yourself to anything in the fridge-” He’s stopped by a hand on his wrist. Familiar, too-thin, and cool.

“Martin.” Jon says. “Did I... did I do something to upset you?” It’s a question, small and helpless. Martin just wants to brush it off, he’s fine. He just needs time-

“You died, Jon.” He says instead. The words coming out unbidden.

“I- I came back.” He tightens his grip on Martins wrist for a moment before loosening  “In one piece even. I believe that was a part of our agreement” There’s a note of teasing in that last part, Martin wishes it was funny.

“I said come back safe Jon, not ‘come back from the dead’” Jon's hand drops from his wrist.

“Do you not... Are you not glad I’m back?” He sounds- sad. Of course he sounds sad Martin basically just said he wished he'd died.

“Of course I’m glad your back, I just-”

“Then what’s wrong?” The words are just- they’re just words. But Martin feels something pull in his chest.

Martin looks at Jon for the first time since the hospital.

“I’m scared, Jon! I You were dead for three months, Y-you didn’t even have a heartbeat and I-” He brings a hand upland runs it through his hair, Jon doesn’t need to hear this. He should be resting not listening to Martin dump his issues like this- “you were dead and I was the only one left. A-and yeah you came back, but- god what even is this! You’re just, fine. A-and I’m- I don’t want you to not be fine but I- I can’t even prove to myself that you’re real and not- I-I don’t-” He forces himself to stop. clamping his jaw shut around the words that suddenly feel like they’re pushing at the back of his throat like bile. Jon stares back at him, eyes wide and confused and hurt. He’s disheveled and still wearing the pajamas Martin had brought for him in the first week. Small and tired and maybe even real. He looks at Jon until he can’t because his vision begins to blur and his eyes begin to burn.

“Martin, I- I’m- I’m sorry I-” Jon's blurry form moves, and Martin shuts his eyes. Shaking his head. He should be the one apologizing, Jon didn’t need to hear that and he just- threw it at him.

“I’m-” Martin tries to apologize, but it comes out as little more than a croak. Cool hands cup his cheeks, and he opens his eyes. Jon's face is closer now, eyes scanning desperately over Martin's face.

“I- I’m not- I don’t know what I am but I’m- I-I’m me. I-I promise, I don’t know how to prove it to you but I-” Jon starts, and Martin can see his lips move to form the words-

Jon is here, he’s alive. He’s awake. His hands are on Martin's cheeks and he’s running his thumb through the tear tracks, fumbling over awkward reassurances. and looking so, so earnest. Hell, he made a joke about a conversation nobody else heard. Something just between the two of them, nobody else. And to fear entities, maybe that doesn’t matter. But for now, with Jon so close and acting so perfectly imperfectly Jon. Martin can let- no. Make himself believe. Jon’s not dead, it’s not a trap. Not right now, not yet. Just for right now, Martin isn’t alone anymore.

It doesn’t take much to lean forward, pressing their lips together. Jon makes a small, cut-off sound of surprise before melting into it, letting a hand move to the back of Martin's hair and the other fall to his shoulder. Martin's arms wrapping around Jon's waist.

Eventually they have to part for air. Martin doesn’t open his eyes, but he can feel Jon's breath on his face, and his hand in his hair and it’s all just another reminder he’s alive. And so wonderfully real.

He feels Jon move after a moment, using the hand he’s left on the back of Martin's head to guide him down. Pressing now-warm lips to the wet patches on his cheeks. Martin tries to laugh, he’s not sure why. It all just seems a little absurd all of a sudden. but it comes out as sort of a wet hiccup. Prompting Jon to tilt his head, and lock their lips together again.

Martin doesn’t know how long they stand in his entryway, trading kisses and just... being in each other's arms. But it’s long enough he’s run out of tears for Jon to try to kiss away, and the strange wired feeling has faded. Leaving him tired and heavy and in desperate need of a lie-down.

He pulls back, though not far. He can still feel Jon's lips against his as he speaks.

“Please don’t die again.” He says softly.

Jon sighs, pressing a small, chaste kiss against his lips.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, and Martin can feel the words as Jon's mouth brushes his as much as he hears them. And then he kisses Martin again, like he’s trying to seal the words there with his lips.

And, Martin supposes that promise was enough last time. It might be more than enough for him now.

[xwonie]

if only you changed

warnings: angst (shitty angst at least), cheating

pairing: sunghoon x reader

a/n: tried my hardest to make it as angsty as possible but i ended up not liking it all too much

love.

it was always depicted as such a fairytale. two individuals fall in love in such romantic ways and eventually spend the rest of their lives together—that’s what everyone hoped for at least.

sunghoon stood in front of you, taking in the scenery before looking at you with worried eyes. looking at him made it feel like the universe was against you, his eyes held so much love and concern it almost made you want to crawl right back into his arms. you wanted to do nothing more than to just cry.

“why did you do it?”

sunghoon knew something was wrong when he received your dull text message telling him that you needed to talk, but when the words left your mouth, he froze. the concern he felt soon turned into panic, dread began to take over.

“y/n, listen to me, please.” sunghoon pleaded in hopes that he could reach you, but how could he?

it hurt knowing he only acknowledges what he did was wrong only because it meant losing you earlier than he imagined. why did you wait for so long? you continuously built false hope on such a thin thread throughout your relationship. now, you could only stare at the one thing you thought was so beautiful, start to fade away from you.

“you said you would change.” silence was the only thing that met you. he knew what came next but he hoped you wouldn’t say it. “i can’t keep doing this, sunghoon.”

you couldn’t look at him because you knew if you did, you’d forgive him all over again. he knew it was selfish trying to keep you in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere but he just couldn’t lose you.

“no, no, we can make this work.” tears wept at the corner of his eyes. god how much it affected you, but you just couldn’t do it anymore

months of waiting for him to change, to regain your trust only for him to break it all over again. after the many chances and days you would tell yourself it’ll get better you finally gave up. you allowed yourself to get hurt in order to reach some sort of happiness that would never come, not with sunghoon.

it was time to move on.

you hold his face in the palm of you hand, allowing your thumb to softly graze his cheek “i love you”

“then don’t leave, bear with me a little longer, please.” he says.

when you shake your head and release your hold from his face, he feels empty. met with the cold winter air as the warmth you provided began to disappear. he pleads with his eyes hoping you would give in and just stay. but it was too late, he lost his last chance and knew you weren’t coming back.

“goodbye sunghoon, be happy.”

he watches as your figure begins to walk further away from him, his heart cracking piece by piece before he eventually breaks.

[davidpastrsnack]

since vince is now streaming again (also hi welcome back baby i missed his face) may i request no. 43 from the smut blurbs?? thank u and hope you’re taking care of yourself 💗

“just let me finish this level and i swear i’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

After almost three months of no streaming, here you were again. Vince was finally back online, smiling as he read the influx of messages in the chat welcoming him back. It warmed your heart to see him so happy again, but you also felt that similar ache in your chest when you remembered how so many of your nights before were spent alone.

You audible sighed, much louder than you anticipated, getting up from your spot on the couch to head upstairs. You might as well catch up on some of your shows that Vince never watched. He barely even acknowledged that you left the room, just sending you a quick nod as you turned the corner.

You were cuddled up in bed for almost three hours before you became too annoyed to just sit alone. Despite watching your show, your mind could not stop thinking about your boyfriend below you. He hadn’t even checked on you once. You were exhausted and you just wanted to crawl into bed with him, not his sweatshirt.

You threw the blankets off of your body, hastily moving downstairs towards the kitchen. Your feet stomped against the hardwood, quickly gaining Vince’s attention as you disappeared yet again. Pouring yourself a fresh glass of water, you were startled when you felt his warm body slide next to yours, his forefinger slipping beneath your chin to make you look up at him.

“What, Vince?” you snapped.

“Babygirl?” he questioned, his brows furrowed and his green eyes laced with concern, “What’s wrong?”

You knew you shouldn’t be this mad, but you couldn’t help it. You had been spoiled when he wasn’t streaming and it was going to take you a little bit to get used to it again.

“Nothing, Vince, nothing. I’m just going to go to bed,” you mumbled, pushing past him to leave, but he grabbed your wrist before you could make it out.

“Without me?” he pouted.

“Yes, Vince, without you,” you grumbled, not in the mood for any of his jokes.

Vince sighed, his hands running through his brown curls in frustration. It may have taken him a minute to figure it out, but he knew exactly what was happening and exactly how to fix it.

“Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

You scoffed at his words, “Okay, Vince,” you chuckled, “I won’t be holding my breath.”

He shook his head as you walked away, rushing back to his desk so he could follow through on his promise promptly.

Not long after, Vince finally said goodbye to everyone and turned everything off. He rushed upstairs, his loud footsteps stirring you awake. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but your body took over.

“I’m here,” he smiled.

“You’re here,” you jested back, “He’s alive.”

“Oh come on, baby. I’m sorry,” he whispered, laying down on the bed next to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Regardless of how hard you tried, you couldn’t resist him. You curled into his body right away, his scent overcoming you as you nuzzled into his far too expensive hoodie. He wrapped his arms tight around you, holding you just like that for a few minutes before pulling away.

“Where are you going?” you pouted.

“If I remember correctly I made a promise, didn’t I?” he smirked, sliding down the mattress until he was resting between your legs.

You shook your head laughing at him, but your laughter was quickly replaced with a gasp when he swiftly pulled your sweatpants down, panties and all.

“Someone’s ready, hmm?” he teased before hooking your legs around his shoulders and diving in.

Your head fell back as he wrapped his lips around your clit right away. He knew he screwed up tonight, but now he was going to do his best to make it up to you.

“Fuck, Vince,” you whined when he flicked his tongue back and forth, your hands tangled in his soft curls.

“Feel better, baby?” he mumbled into you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “So good Vince.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall over the edge with the way his tongue was working against you. When he sucked your clit between his lips one last time you lost it, your back arching off the bed and your cries of his name filling the air.

Vince moved to kiss down your inner thighs, letting you relax before he shifted back to rest right above your core.

“What are you-”

“Oh babygirl, remember?” he interrupted, “One down, two to go,” he smirked, his big green eyes flashing you a wink before he pressed a gentle kiss to your swollen clit, getting right back to work.

[topsytervy]

Rented ~ Rafe Cameron

Part 2

Blurb: After getting rented out to Rafe for midsummers and falling for him, the next week seems like a fairytale...until its not.

Word Count: 6,418

Warnings: swearing, like one sexual line, mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, canon Rafe (sorry), age gap (16 and 19), mention of injury (the arm burn that Rafe gets from Barry),  poorly edited, not as well written as part 1 and a bit (okay a lot) all over the place, I think thats it

This definitely wasn’t written as well as part 1 and I feel like each little part is their own separate blurbs but hey, it happens.

If you haven’t read Part 1, Here it is.

I just want to say that it’s not okay to rent out your friends or family members without their consent or just in general so��don’t be Barry. Also, google told me age of consent in North Carolina is 16 but THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I DO NOT CONDONE A RELATIONSHIP WHERE ONE (OR MORE) OF THE PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP IS A MINOR AND THE OTHER (OR OTHERS) IS AN ADULT. I DO NOT CONDONE IT AND DO NOT RECOMMEND IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND FOR THE STORY.

~~~~~

Rafe held his arm as he walked up to the door of the chateau, tears pricking his eyes as he raised his fist to knock. He looked at the burn on his arm as he waited for the door to open.

"Please, Please, Please." He pleaded silently, holding back tears.

If you told him 3 months ago that he'd be pining after a pogue and then invite said pogue to midsummers, he would've laughed at you and told you to piss off.

If you then added that he would be dating the pogue he was pining after and now waiting on John B's porch, praying that she was in there,  he would've had you in a padded room because you were clearly delusional.

But now, here he stood, a couple of days after midsummers, doing exactly that.

Kiara opened the door, looking Rafe up and down.

"So now you’re invading the chateau?" She asked him.

"Please tell me Y/N's here."

JJ rolled his eyes as you stood up from the couch, touching Kies’s shoulder and nodding that it was okay.

"What’s up, handsome?" You smiled.

"Y/N. I-I need some help...please." He whispered, showing you his arm.

You looked down at his arm and your eyes widened. "Shit Rafe." You whispered, grabbing his arm gingerly to get a better look at it before dragging him into the house and towards the bathroom.

JJ glared daggers at Rafe the entire way until you two disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

"You're jealousy is showing." Pope sang, not even looking up from his book.

"What jealousy?" He asked, his voice low as he kept his eyes on the bathroom door.

Pope rolled his eyes before turning the page, ignoring the cluelessness of his friend.

You turned on the bathroom faucet, making sure it was cool before taking your boyfriend’s wrist in your hand before placing it under the water.

"Keep it there while I find the first aid kit okay?"

Rafe nodded as you rummaged through the bathroom, mentally cursing your friends for not putting the kit in the same place every time.

You finally found it underneath some towels and opened it up, finding some ointment and gauze. You pulled out the supplies before going to the medicine cabinet, Rafe moving so you could get in there. You pulled out the ibuprofen and grabbed a small dixie cup from the stack in the corner, filling it with water.

You turned off the faucet and handed him the pills and the cup. Rafe took it without complaint and you went to work on his arm.

"Rafe," you whispered as you applied some ointment to the burn and began wrapping his arm.

He looked up from your hands working on his wrist and into your eyes.

"Who did this?" You asked, concern lacing your words.

Rafe sighed, looking away from you in shame. "Barry." He muttered.

You paused your action as you looked at him. "Barry. Why the hell would he burn you unless…" You trailed off and his face gave him away. You tied off the gauze since you didn’t have any tape and sighed. "You said you quit."

"I said I’m trying to quit but it’s hard. You should know this, angel." Rafe whispered.

He seemed so broken.

"How many lines did you do?"

 “Just half a line, I swear. The withdrawal was getting to me so I did half a line to ease it a bit. Then your brother came by asking for his money and I didn’t have it and-and-"

You placed your hands on his face. "It’s okay. It’s okay. C'mere." You slid your hands around his neck, standing on your toes as you hugged him.

His arms went around your waist and he buried his face into your neck, letting the tears fall. You stayed like that for a while until JJ banged on the door.

"I swear to God, you two better not be fucking in there! You wanna go to pound town, you go somewhere else!"

You rolled your eyes and Rafe pulled away from you. You wiped away Rafe’s tears before giving him a kiss.

"You wanna go somewhere else for a while, handsome."

Rafe smirked. "Why? Wanna go to pound town?"

You smacked him lightly. "No. I wanna make sure you're okay and I  doubt you and JJ can be in the same room together for a couple of hours without one or both of you going to jail."

Rafe chuckled before grabbing your hand, nodding in agreement as he headed towards the door but you stopped him by not moving.

"Let’s go to the place you took me after midsummers. Get some food and we can hang out there for a while." You suggested.

Rafe grinned. "That sounds like an amazing idea, angel."

 ****

 It was around 9 PM when Rafe dropped you off at home. You waved goodbye to Rafe before he pulled out of the driveway.

You walked into the trailer, closing the front door behind you quietly before leaning against the door. A smile adorned your lips as you touched your cheek where Rafe kissed you goodnight before touching the necklace that he gave you.

You heard a whistle and whipped your head towards the kitchen, your brother standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"I never thought I'd see the day where my sister would be all done up like a doll. Looking like a full kook now." He walked over.

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever Barry."

"No. Not whatever Barry. For someone who despises the kook life and looking like a kook, you're sure smiley after coming home looking like that and being surrounded by kooks." He observed.

"Yeah. I had good liquor,  not cheap shit." You told him, rolling your eyes before walking towards your room.

"Nice necklace. Don’t leave it out or I’m trading it in." Barry hollered.

You slammed your door shut and sighed.

"Don't be slamming doors in my household!" You rolled your eyes at Barry’s words, too tired and on cloud 9 to deal with your brother.

You took off your jewelry, minus the necklace Rafe gave you, and kicked off your heels.  You grabbed your pajamas before stalking off into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

While you waited for the water to heat up, you stripped out of your clothes before checking the waters temperature. You hopped in shortly after, doing your usual shower routine which took longer than usual thanks to your mind reminiscing on tonight’s event. It wasn’t until Barry started banging on the door that you were snapped from your thoughts.

"Come the hell on! It’s too late for this and I gotta piss!"

"Alright, alright!" You hollered back, turning off the water and grabbing the towel so you could dry yourself.

You pulled on your sweatpants and tank top before opening the door.

"God damn Y/N, taking 20 years," Barry muttered, rushing into the bathroom as you pushed past him.

You closed your bedroom door as you entered, immediately crawling into bed and under the covers. You touched the necklace once more, a small smile on your face before you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep for a few hours.

Rafe wasn't so lucky. He was so ecstatic that he couldn’t fall asleep. He was giddy as if he did four lines and drank two monsters right before bed.

He really did try to fall asleep but it wasn’t working. By 1 AM, he was still wide awake, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He pulled on his sweatshirt and grabbed his shoes before opening his bedroom door, making his way downstairs soundlessly 

Once he was out the door and in his truck, he put on his shoes, starting the truck afterward, and driving towards your home.  Rafe got out and pulled out his phone, sending you a quick text.

You walked back into your bedroom with a glass of water, yawning as you closed your bedroom door once again. Your phone vibrated on your nightstand and you grabbed it, seeing a text from Rafe.

You up angel?

 You smiled at the message, immediately setting down your glass.

 Yeah. What’s wrong?

 Nothing. Can't sleep. Wanna join me on a little drive?

 You looked around and grabbed a hoodie.

 I'd be honored.

 You pulled on your hoodie and opened up your window, climbing out of it with ease. You walked towards Rafe, who's hair was messy for once, and he smiled.

"You work fast. What is this in your head? Date number five. " you joked when you got close enough.

"I don't know if I’d consider driving around and getting a bunch of shit for midsummers a date." He responded. 

You kissed his cheek as he opened the door for you, closing it before walking over to the driver’s side and getting in himself.

"What about the day we had that picnic on the dock?" You buckled your seatbelt before leaning against the center console, arms crossed and head resting on them as you stared at the blue-eyed boy next to you.

"I'd consider that me trying to swoon and win you over. You know? Try to get you to like me." Rafe told you.

"Okay. Then what would you consider earlier tonight?" You asked.

"Now that is what I'd consider the first date." Rafe grinned, looking over at you as he pulled put of the driveway.

"It is quite the event to have a first date."

"I know."

"And I'll admit that seeing you in that suit was the final nail in the coffin." You admitted.

Rafe looked over at you. "Oh, really? Maybe I should've tried wearing a suit sooner."

"Maybe you should've." You nudged his arm lightly. "Where are we going?"

"Good question. Do you have anywhere you wanna go?" He asked you, making a random turn.

You chewed on your lip, trying to think of someplace but couldn’t. You shook your head and Rafe laughed.

"Alright. I know a place."

"Do you now?"

He looked at you. "Oh, angel. Do I know a place that is gonna knock your socks off." Confidence lacing his words.

"Well, we will see, won’t we?"

Rafe smiled as you brought your legs up onto the seat and threw your hood over your head.

Within 10 minutes, you were in a wooded area, the road a little bumpy.

"There should be some blankets and a pillow in the back. Wanna grab them?" Rafe said as he made a turn.

You nodded, turning around in your seat to grab them before stopping. "What exactly have these blankets been exposed to?"

Rafe laughed. "They're freshly washed and they're the blankets I use whenever I need to get away from my dad for a night. I'll come out here and sleep in the bed of the truck."

"I never thought you’d be the camping type." You commented, reaching back and actually grabbing the blankets and the pillow this time.

"I wouldn’t call it camping. Just getting away from the crazy." He parked the truck and turned off the ignition, taking the keys and shoving them in his sweatpants pocket.

He grabbed some of the blankets from you before getting out of the truck, heading towards the bed. You followed Rafe’s actions, stopping when you got to the bed.

"How the hell did you find this place?" You asked, taking in the little clearing amongst all the trees. It was complete with a little pond and a nice view of the sky.

"Fight with Rose and Ward. Took a little drive. Made some random turns and the next thing I knew, I was here." Rafe took the blankets from your arm, leaving you with the pillow.

"It’s so peaceful." You breathed out.

"I know." He said, sitting on the bed of the truck as he took his shoes off.

He crawled over to the little window that led into the backseat and opened it, throwing his shoes through it. You tossed him the pillow before hopping onto the bed to take your own shoes off, doing the same thing as Rafe.

Your Y/E/C eyes met his blue ones and he opened his arms as he laid his head down on the pillow. You made your way over to him and rested your head on his chest as Rafe pulled a blanket over the two of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist as his other hand went to play with your hair.

You two stared at the stars for a while before you spoke.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Shoot."

You reached up and ran a hand through his hair. "As much as I like the slicked-back greaser look, I like it a bit better this way. All messy and whatever."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. You don't look so stuck up this way."

Rafe laughed a bit, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I bet."

You both ended up falling asleep like that. You with your head on his chest and curled into his side; Him with his arms around you and his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

 *****

You sat in the bed of Rafe’s truck again, you leaning against the cab as Rafe leaned against you, his head against your chest. Your fingers played with his hair as you two basked in the silence.

Rafe could've fallen asleep like that but his mind was racing.

"Y/N, angel,"

You hummed in response, looking down at him.

"Can-can you try to convince Barry to give me until the weekend?"

You sighed. "You know Barry doesn't like me sticking my nose in his little drug empire. Chances are he won't even listen to me."

"Please," He whispered.

You stayed quiet for a few moments.

"I’ll try." You kissed the top of his head. "You have to promise me that you go to urgent care to get that burn checked out tonight though. Okay? It looks bad and I don't want it getting infected or anything."

"I promise,"

 ****

"Nah. Country club was late on a payment. He doesn’t get his bike back until it’s paid off." Barry told you, bringing his beer to his lips.

"Okay. I know that you had to take his bike since it was his collateral, but burning his wrist? Barry, that was horrible." You scolded him.

Barry shrugged. "Don't care."

"You should care! Rafe is trying to get his life back on track and for all I know, that might set him back. He might go a snort a couple of lines to deal with the pain!" You retorted.

Barry ignored you, setting his beer down and standing up. "It’s weird how you suddenly care about him and his well-being."

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes and Barry walked towards you. "You also haven't taken that necklace off since you got home from midsummers. JJ couldn't have bought it, he ain't got the money for it so that answer is off the table. So either you swiped it from some rich bitch or some rich dick bought it for you."

"You do know JJs a klepto, right? He still could've given it to me."

 "And then, there's you saying Rafes trying to get his life together. Weird considering you don’t talk to his friends or his family. I'm pretty sure the last time you talked to him was midsummers and Rafe isn't the kind to have a little sit-down public pity party. He likes looking like he'll beat the shit out of you if you even breathe his way. He likes looking like the alpha."

"What are you? A fucking profiler?" You started backing up until you hit a wall.

"All this bullshit can only mean one thing," Barry cornered you, "you're messing around with Rafe Cameron."

You swallowed as you glared at him and Barry laughed.

"My little sister is getting it on with Rafe Cameron. Holy shit. That’s why he paid me so he could take you to his little kook event. Oh my god. Country club caught feelings for a pogue! I kinda wish you didn’t like him back cause maybe he'd keep paying me to take you out." Barry grinned.

"You're disgusting. You would pimp out your little sister so you can make a little money." You shook your head in disgust.

Barry narrowed his eyes before grabbing your wrist. "Don’t you ever say that ever again. I may have let it happen with Rafe but if Luke or someone else walked in and handed me money and told me that it was so they could have their way with you, I'd beat them bloody. So don’t you ever, ever, say I'd pimp you out. You should be thanking me considering you have a rich boy toy now."

You wrenched your wrist from his hand, rubbing it a bit. "Don't touch me, Barry."

You pushed Barry out of the way and walked out the front door, immediately calling JJ.

"Come pick me up. I can't stay here tonight.”

"Why?"

"JJ…"

"Okay. Okay. I got it. I'll be there in like 15. I'll steal the twinkie."

Within 20 minutes, you were seated in the passenger seat next to JJ.

"So...you gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna have to beat Barry up with the only defense being he sells coke to mt dad?" JJ broke the silence, glancing at you.

"He said he wishes I didn’t end up liking Rafe back cause then he probably would've made bank off of Rafe paying him to have a date with me or something like that." You sighed.

JJ looked at you in disgust. "Like pimp you out?"

"That’s what I said. That he was disgusting for that. All he said after that was that if it was anyone but Rafe, he'd beat them bloody. He even said I should be thanking him cause I have a rich boy toy now." You let your head rest against the glass.

"Well, I don’t thank him," JJ muttered.

You lifted your head to look at him. "What?"

"You and Rafe are kind of a thing now, right?" JJ glanced at you, turning on the blinker. 

"I mean, I don’t think we're like...exclusive or whatever. I think it’s just we're seeing each other and seeing where it goes."  You answered, feeling a bit shy all the sudden.

"Well, your brilliant brother Barry got you seeing a cokehead who has some slight anger issues when he's sober and they are possibly worse when he's high," JJ stated.

"J, I-"

"Don't J me, Y/N. I'm being straight with you, okay? Rafe doesn’t have the best track record. He can be a bit...unpredictable."

"He's trying to get himself off coke." You defended him.

"I get that but listen to me. There’s going to be some trip-ups. He’s going to relapse at some point and if you confront him while he’s high or do one thing that sets him off when he's high, he might hurt you." JJ looked at you before looking back at the road, "I don’t want you to get hurt."

You placed your hand on his forearm. "JJ, I have faith in him and I know it’s going to be a bumpy road. But you know me. I want to help people through their toughest times. I believe Rafe genuinely cares about me and that I can help get him through this."

JJ looked at you before holding up his pinky. "Promise me that if he lays a hand on you in any threatening way that you'll dump his ass and tell me."

You took your hand off his arm and linked your pinky with his. "Promise. "

****

After finding out that Ward had the gold now, you couldn’t help but tear up a little and there was one person who you knew could help cheer you up.

"I can't tell if your eyes are red cause your high or cause you've been crying," Rafe commented as he set the bong on the table in front of him.

"I only had a hit off JJs blunt so it’s gotta be the latter." You admitted, heading over to the little couch to sit on.

Rafe felt his jaw clench at JJs name but unclenched it within seconds and caught you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap.

"Awe angel. What’s wrong?" He cooed, giving your jaw a little kiss.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "Let’s say something my friends and I really looked forward to getting is now gone. And Barry tried robbing my friends but that’s a whole different story."

Rafe nodded, hearing about his sister’s break-in the day it happened so he focused on the first part. "May I ask what this something was?"

Rafe rubbed small circles on your back as you thought about it.

"Not really but if I had what we were going to get, I would be on my way to getting emancipated and getting the hell out of here." Rafe leaned back and you placed your head on his shoulder. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

You shot Rafe a look. "Don’t play the dumb card."

"I’m fine," Rafe told you.

"Don't lie to me. Barry has been raging to me ever since your dad beat him and Whe-"

Rafe’s eyes widened, grabbing your chin and lifting your head so you were looking at him. "He's not hurting you for what my dad did, right? Cause I'll- I'll fucking kill him if he is."

"No, no, no. He's just been bitching about it." You reassured him, seeing him visibly relax, "but Wheezie told me you were here and that Ward kicked you out."

Rafe sighed, throwing his head back. "Blabbermouth."

"Rafe, why didn’t you tell me?"

"It’s my problem, not yours. Unlike Sarah who can’t do any wrong, I do everything wrong. That’s probably why he's taking Sarah to the Bahamas."

"What are you talking about?" You sat up.

"He's taking an impromptu trip to the Bahamas with his favorite kid even though I know way more about business than her." Rafe fumed.

You kissed his temple and played with his hair before stopping.

"Rafe, I have to go. I-I just remembered I’m supposed to be helping JJ with his English homework." You told him as you got off of his lap.

"What? It’s summer." Rafe pointed out, a confused look on his face.

"Well, yeah. But it's JJ so summer school, ya know." You laughed lightly before giving him a peck on the lips. "I’ll text you later, okay?"

And with that you left, leaving Rafe alone. He felt jealousy course this his veins before sighing. If JJ wanted him out of the picture and to take his place, he would've made up some lie about Rafe already that would've had him out of your life already.

He had to get used to the fact that JJ and you were close, always looking out for each other, making sure each other didn't get into any trouble.

And as hard as it was for him to swallow, you wouldn't drop JJ. Rafe had to share you with others.

And if there’s one thing he wasn’t the best at, it was sharing.

*****

After Rafe had told you about Ward and Sarah’s trip to the Bahamas, you rushed to find your friends, running into Pope on the way, exchanging information as you guys made your way to your friends.

"So Ward killed Big John?" Disbelief laced your voice as you approached the dock.

Pope nodded his head, both of you panting as you came to a stop, the other three members of the group staring at you two.

You sat down on the ground as you placed your hands above your head and Pope stood, bent over with his hands on his knees.

JJ walked over to you and crouched down, rubbing your back as he looked between you and Pope.

"You guys okay?" Kie asked, eyebrows raised.

You both shook your heads.

"We ran all the way here." Pope panted.

"Why?" John B asked.

Pope pointed at you. "You first."

"Well...I-I went Tanneyhill to visit Rafe and um… Wheezie told me he wasn't there. Ward kicked him out after catching Rafe going through his safe to pay off Barry. Ward paid him off or whatever. He said some things about how Rafes a liar and a thief-"

"Wow. I'm so shocked." JJ deadpanned with an eye-roll.

You stared at him and he raised his hands in surrender, letting you continue. "So I went to check on him. See if he relapsed or anything. I asked him what was wrong and he-he said something about Ward and Sarah taking a trip to the Bahamas. Popcorning it to Pope."

"My dad said something about having to cut down some trees for Ward to extend the runway for his jet. Why would he need to extend his runway unless something heavy was in that plane?" Pope rushed out.

"We still have a chance." John B looked at everyone.

"To the twinkie!" Kie hopped up, taking off in a sprint.

JJ pulled you up and you groaned,  running after them.

****

"He's hurting her." John B said.

"What?" JJ looked over at his best friend.

"You guys watched as John B stormed towards the van.

"John B! Hey, man!" JJ hollered.

He slid into the driver’s side before slamming the door shut.

"JB! Think about this" Kie tried.

The van started and he charged the fence. JJ grabbed you and pulled you off to the side as you all watched him take off towards the plane.

"Oh my god. What is he thinking?" You whispered.

"I don’t think he is." JJ breathed out.

It wasn’t long before you heard police sirens.

"Come on. We have to go." Kie told you guys.

"Are you kidding me? We have to help him!" JJ shouted.

"JJ, listen to me. You are on probation. You, and I can’t stress this enough, cannot be here right now especially when that gun is in your bag. And don't say it’s not because I know it is." You attested, holding JJs shoulders.

JJ sighed, grabbing his hat from the ground and pulling it on his head before you all took off running.

****

Rafe’s hand was running through his hair as his other held the gun. Sheriff Peterkin laid on the ground as Ward spoke to him, showing his son that he had the Sheriff's walkie talkie.

Rafe looked past his dad to see John B walking backward.

"Hey. Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He shouted, lifting the gun again.

"John B, run." Sarah told him.

John B took off as Sarah and Ward stopped Rafe from going after him. Only one thought ran through his head as the curly haired boy ran off.

John B was going to tell you, which meant Rafe might lose you.

****

"Who's blood is that John B?" Kiara asked.

You were sitting next to Pope before you were standing up.

"Sheriff Peterkins." He answered numbly.

"What? How did her blood get on you?" JJ asked.

"Rafe shot Peterkin."

Your eyes widened. "What?"

"Rafe shot Peterkin, Y/N. She was going to arrest Ward and he shot her trying to protect his dad."

Your fingers immediately went to your necklace and you shook your head, tears in your eyes. "He wouldn’t."

"Y/N. Listen to me. Why would I lie about something like this? Rafe shot Peterkin in the back. I swear to you, on god, he did." He crouched down looking at you.

Your arms wrapped around your waist. "I think I'm gonna be sick." 

Popes immediately put his hand on your back. "We're sorry, Y/N." He mumbled.

"I didn’t think he'd murder someone." You whispered.

"No one could've known. Okay. Don’t beat yourself up over." Pope reassured you.

"I should've stayed with him."

Pope looked up at JJ and nodded towards you. JJ sighed, walking over to you and sitting down, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

"Y/N listen to me. It’s over, okay. It’s done. Its happened. Do not blame yourself because he decided to do something irrational."

Your fingers ran over the word ‘angel’ as you spoke. "I’m a fool. Getting involved with him."

Kie immediately shook her head. "No, you're not. He's a charmer, okay. A smooth talker. It’s fine. He told you he was going to change his bad habits and instead, he ended up doing something way worse than what he usually does."

Silence hung in the air for a minute before John B spoke. "We have to go to the police."

The four of you nodded, JJ turning his attention to you. "When’s the last time you ate?"

You shrugged.

"Let’s stop somewhere quick and get her something to eat. Something to-go."

"I’m not really hungry, J." You mumbled.

"Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, you need to eat before you pass out or something. Even if it’s just chips."

JJ’s eyes bore into yours and you sighed, nodding, still messing with the necklace Rafe gave you.

"Can you drop me off at the beach on the way to the police station? And you can pick me up when you're done. I'll text one of you where I'm at." You asked.

Everyone looked at each other before nodding and heading towards the twinkie. Once in the van, you pulled out your phone and texted Rafe.

Beach. 15 minutes.

****

Rafe has been texting you since he got home and none of them had received an answer. Not even a read receipt which he would've taken at this point.

So when he finally got a text from you saying to be at the beach in 15 minutes, he wasted no time in throwing on some shoes and grabbing his car keys, practically sprinting to his car and speeding towards the beach. 

When he got there and stepped out of the car, he sent you a text.

Where are you?

 You were quick to reply.

 Dock.

 He made his way towards the dock and you sat on the edge, legs swinging as your hands gripped the wood.

"Hey, angel. You haven’t replied to any of my texts. I was getting worried that something happened to you." He greeted, the sight of you easing his nerves a little.

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair, looking out at the water. "I'm going to be blunt and ask you flat out... did you kill Sheriff Peterkin?"

Rafe hesitated for a second before letting out a light laugh. "What are you talking about, Y/N?"

You turned around, blinking back tears. "Did you kill Peterkin?" You asked slower. "And don't lie to me, Rafe. John B already told me but I want- no. I need to hear it from you. So, did you kill Peterkin?"

Rafe scratched the tip of his nose with his thumb, sighing. "I...I shot Peterkin. Yes."

You felt the tears threatening to spill so you dug the heel of your hands into your eyes. You gathered your thoughts before speaking once more. "Who did you and your father pin it on?"

"What?"

"Rafe. Don't play fucking dumb with me. I know you're not stupid. We both know Ward wouldn’t want his family name being dragged like that so who the hell did you pin it on." You seethed.

"John B." Rafe whispered after a minute.

You shook your head in disbelief as Rafe grabbed your hands. "Listen, Y/N, angel. The first week of a relationship is always a little rocky. We'll work through it.”

You snatched your hands away from him. "It’s one thing to be there for your partner when they're going through a problem like addiction or something and to work through those issues. It’s an entirely different thing when your partner commits a murder. There is no way to work through it, Rafe. You killed someone. I knew there'd be ups and downs but I didn't think this would be one of them."

"Y/N, listen to me. Okay? I need you to listen to me. It's going to be fine. I can get two tickets to wherever you want to go. Belgium, Argentina, Greenland, Canada, London, New Zealand, wherever. Just tell me where and we'll go. Leave. Start fresh. Only bring a bag and a carry-on and we'll fly the hell out of here. Yeah? How does that sound, angel?"

You stared at him, mouth agape. "I cannot in good conscience flee the country with you or even be with you unless you try and be a better person."

Rafe licked his lips. "What do you want me to do? Recycle. Give to the poor. What?"

"Rafe. Doing all that doesn’t make up for the life you took."

"She was going to kill my dad, Y/N. What did you want me to do? Stand there and watch!"

"Despite what you think Rafe, you're dad isn’t a saint. He wasn’t going to get shot unless he tried something stupid, he was going to be arrested! Sheriff Peterkin found out that your dad killed Big John and possibly some other dirt on him. You and I both know you probably wouldn't be this way of he didn’t treat you as if you were dog shit on the bottom of his new Italian shoes. What do you think is gonna happen if the truth comes out? Hmm? That John B didn’t kill Peterkin but you did. You think your father is still going to be there and picking up the pieces. No! He'll sit there and let you rot in prison as long as it’s not him. As long as he's in the clear, he's not going to do shit. All he cares about is his image and if you get thrown in jail, he’ll just disown you. Say you're not his son when they ask for a comment from him. He will find a way to avoid going to prison, even if it means throwing his own son under the bus. We both know this Rafe. I’m sorry but it's the truth."

Your Y/E/C eyes bore into his dull blue ones that were once bright. You reached behind your neck and unlatched the necklace as you saw headlights pull up.

"Here."

Rafe shook his head. "No."

"Take it, Rafe."

"I’m not taking it back Y/N."

"Rafe, just take the damn thing."

He shook his head as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I said no."

"Why not?" You asked trying to keep your voice from breaking.

"Because if I take it back then that means you're not mine anymore." He answered.

"Whether or not you take it back, I'm not yours until you right your wrongs cause this is a really big wrong that absolutely needs to be righted."

"Y/N!" You heard JJ call as footsteps made their way towards you. 

"Please, Rafe." You whispered, taking his wrist and prying his fingers open, laying the necklace in his palm. "It was a fun week." You whispered once more before running towards JJ, the tears finally falling.

"Y/N! Please don't leave me! Y/N! "Y/N!" Rafe screamed after you, but it was too late.

Rafe fisted his hair as he walked off the dock before taking his hand and punching a nearby trashcan.

The one motivation he had to change for the better had run away from him.

****

You sat next to JJ, head on his shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your phone vibrating every 2 minutes.

"You get that thing you needed to do done?" He asked.

You nodded.

JJ desperately wanted to ask what the thing was that you needed to do. However, between John B being on the run from the cops and Pope and Kie being in the van, he knew he shouldn't ask considering everyone would tell him its none of his business.

So, he used his eyes to try and figure out what it was that you needed to do. After all, he's watched some Criminal Minds with you so he should be able to do this.

His eyes trailed over your body to figure it out. When he got to your neck, he noticed that the angel necklace that once adorned it was gone, leaving your neck bare.

Between that and what seemed like constant messages and calls, JJ figured you broke things off with Rafe.

Your phone started vibrating again and he gave you a small smile as he reached over and grabbed your phone.

He saw Rafe’s name and picture flashing across the screen before it stopped, a number five next to his name for the missed calls and twenty next to texts.

And then Rafe’s picture was back on the screen, staring at JJ. The blonde sighed and rolled his eyes, turning off your phone before putting it in his pocket.

He looked down at you to see the tear stains on your cheeks and your eyes dull, half-open as you blankly stared ahead of you.

"Why don't you sleep for a bit, Y/N/N? You look like you’ve had a rough day." JJ whispered into your ear.

"Mkay." You mumbled closing your eyes as JJ rubbed your arm.

JJ moved around so you could be a bit more comfortable, laying your head on his chest as he played with your hair to help you fall asleep faster.

Kiara looked at JJ.

"She okay?" She mouthed.

He only shrugged as he turned his attention to you.

"It's a lot to process." He mouthed back to Kie as he glanced back at her.

The curly-haired girl nodded as she watched JJ's gaze return to you. Your eyes were slowly closing as you worked on falling asleep, only focusing on JJs heartbeat and his fingers running through your hair as you tried to forget the last week.

But it’s hard to forget the last week when it felt like you were living in a fairytale. And for pogues, it was a nice change to feel like you were.

But I guess this goes to show that not all fairytales have happy endings. And that not all handsome princes are knights on steeds ready to be a hero.

Sometimes, they're the worst villain in the story.

~~~~~~~~

[horrorslashergirl]

I really love your writing and I'm really happy that requests are open again!! 😭 Could you maybe write a part 2 to Strip Yourself (Hacker x reader fic) where the hacker and reader somehow meet again (like maybe the reader surprisingly tracks him down) and get together? Thank you!!

The Hacker x Reader- Strip Yourself Part 2

Part 1 HERE

Drinks were being passed on tables along with the money that flew on the stage by high heeled shoes, the girls dancing and twirling on the poles, music blasting accompanied by neon lights, creating the perfect nightlife atmosphere.

Night in New York never changed and neither did the masked man's life as he leaned on the bar, observing a brunette dressed in leopard lingerie. The Hacker bite his lower lip behind the mask as he ogled the woman, she had nice assets and eyes that he would love to see roll inside her head; by sex or murder, he could care less.

It was another Friday night, spending money on drinks and women because the next day he will get the cashback. Tonight he just finished another deal with a pretentious prick who wanted certain films.

The sick freak had some weird fetishes, but who was the Hacker to judge, after all, he wasn't any better.

"I see you looking at her. Gonna taker her in the back later?" the bartender, who the Hacker got pretty aquatinted with spoke with a chuckle.

"Maybe." The Hacker hummed, swirling the liquor in his glass.

He debated if he should just take her for a quick blowjob, when a happy cheer caught his attention, gaze moving from where the sound came. It was one of the veteran strippers, Vivian and she was hugging someone.

When she pulled away, grey eyes widened behind the blue neon lightened mask, gulping down as he took in your form.

It's been what? One year?

He had to admit you changed, but in a good way, hair and clothes are all nicely done and clean put together like a doll in his opinion. The bartender noticed the Hacker stare and nudged his shoulder.

"I never pictured you the type to go for business woman." the male snickered, but the Hacker didn't mind him that much, because all his attention was to you.

It's been a year since you left, quit the job as a stripper, and crawled your way up to be a respectable female in society, although you didn't saw yourself as some prize, never one to judge someone, because you knew what it meant to swallow your pride to get to where you were now.

Vivian felt like someone was starring at you two, so she turned around seeing the masked male, then moved her gaze back to you.

"You wanna talk to him?" she asked in your ear and you swallowed down.

You decided to visit Vivian since you two haven't talked for a long time, but you never pictured that you would meet him, after one year. The man who helped you the most.

"I kind of want to." you muttered, a little nervous, but you weren't going to act like you didn't notice him.

You weren't a coward and since you worked into the financial business you learned that cowardice is seen as a prime weakness and if the sharks in black suits notice, you will be most likely eaten alive.

So, take a deep breath you walked with her to the bar, ordering yourself a drink, while Vivian began to chat with the bartender.

"Hey." you finally said, your eyes looking at the Hacker, who has his mask turned to you.

"Hey, doll."

His voice was bitter like definitely not excited to see you after you left without a word or goodbye.

"Back again?" he broke the silence.

"More like visiting. I worked here almost all my life in college." you answered, taking a sip of your drink as it arrived.

"I know."

Of course, he knew, he was your top client, always tipping you the most, buying you gifts and attentions, showering you in compliments, and the only one who got privates shows with finalization, not that you were proud of it.

"I see you wormed yourself up on the scale in society. I guess all the hard work in college paid well." he spoke again, his tone arrogant and aggressive like.

"You want to talk about this now?" you spoke with confidence, not letting him get to you.

"What's the point? You left one year ago without a word, doll." he shot back, making you feel like you were the culprit here.

"You act like we were together. I told you from the beginning that when college is over so is this place." you clarified him, brows pushed into a frown.

He snorted behind the mask, then got up, walking away from you and towards the back door of the club where the alleyway was.

Before you would have let it go, forget about it, but you ended up being someone who wasn't going to take silence and walking away as an answer. You got up from the barstool and stalked after the male, getting out and catching his wrists before he could take another step.

"Will you stop acting so childish?" you snarked, making him stop.

"I am? Look who's talking. At last, you could have to say goodbye!" he shot back, tugging his wrist away, taking a step towards you, making you take one back.

Silence.

You had no comeback to that. Indeed, you had left, disappearing like a ghost, not even bothering to leave a message.

"That's what I thought. You know....You are no different from the sluts inside. You just have more clothes on, but you are all the same. Choking on my cock." he said in a calm and deadly voice, you could hear the smirk in his tone.

"I-I...Never..." you shuttered over your words, blushing at what he said.

"You never what?" he asked, backing you into the wall of an alleyway.

His masked face inched closer, the plastic brushing against your cheek and ear.

"Do I need to remind you of everything? That time you sucked my cock? When I fingered you? When I pounded you from behind like bitch? Each time I made you squirt?"

He was humiliating you, reminding you that you were no prude, you couldn't stick your nose in the air, because you were no better.

"It was the past." your replied, making him chuckle in amusement.

"That's your comeback?" he asked, grey eyes moving from your wide eyes and trembling lips down to your neck, noticing something underneath the white button-up blouse.

Gloved fingers moved to unbutton the first ones at the collar and you were ready to push him away, but his other hand pushed your shoulder roughly back against the wall.

"Don't fucking move." he snarled into your ear, now that your cleavage was exposed his eyes ranked over the pink diamond.

He recognized it, the one he gave you during your times together and he snickered, making you gulp down.

"You couldn't forget about me, huh....Dollface." he whispered, gloved hands moving over your collarbone.

"T-That's not-" you were interrupted by a finger on your lips.

"I'm not stupid. Can I ask you something and be honest with me, because I hate liars. How many men made you squirt?"

You wanted so badly to punch him in the mask, crack that plastic. He was so obscene and how dare he ask something like that.

"Come on. Answer." he growled into your ear.

You were so ready to throw a fist, but you were cut off as a hand grasped the waistband of your panties underneath the black skirt, tugging the cotton material up between your pussy-lips.

A squeak left your lips, a deep blush crossing your cheeks as you looked up at him.

"Heh...That's what I thought." he snorted, then just like that he left, leaving you to slump down against the brick wall behind you, the sound of the engine of his car could be heard in the distance.

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

"You should forget about him, girl." Vivian said, the two of you having coffee and breakfast.

You twirled the spoon into your cold coffee, looking lost in your thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Vivian said with an exasperated face, making you look up at her lazily.

"Yeah..." your reply was as empty as you looked.

"You can literally have any man you want and you are mourning over a hooligan....a criminal must I remind you?" your friend said, but her words went deaf for you.

"Don't tell me that you haven't been with anyone since him...." she assumed with an unbelievable look in her eyes.

"Oh God, [Name]...." she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

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

After one month, things didn't get better for you, hearing from Vivian how many gets the Hacker got in a year, and even after the incident in the alleyway he wasn't any subtle, coming to the strip-club as nothing happened.

One time you were there and seeing him with a redhead going into the back, you had a pretty good idea what happened, especially when the girl came out with money in her panties.

He had no shame!

Vivian told you like a mother would: 'Told you.'

She suggested that you should let it go and enjoy yourself, don't let someone get you down. That's how she managed to get you into a black cocktail-dress that reminded you of your types working as a stripper, black and silver heels, make-up done perfectly, and your usual ponytail hair now in wild curls.

Tonight, Vivian was off work, but you were hanging out at the club, full of people drinking and dancing. You were having a good time, joking with Vivian and some of the other girls, men coming and leaving to talk with you.

"Girl. Look at that piece of cake." Vivian whispered into your ear, pointing to a man who was giving you a look-over, his eyes ranking over your body and lips pulled into a cheeky smile.

You had to admit he was good-looking and just like the stars were aligned, he moved off the red couch and waltzed to you.

"Hey, sweetcheeks. Couldn't help but saw you looking at me. Care to dance?" well he sure was bold and you smiled.

Why not?

Taking his hand you two walked to the dancefloor, Vivian giving you thumbs up. A new song started and you began to move along, hips swaying to the beat, back turned towards him, his hands running up and down your waist.

"You look absolutely delectable." the man whispered into your ear, making you giggle.

Although you were having a good time, someone across the room wasn't on the same page, because the glass of vodka he was holding cracked lightly a little as he squeezed around it.

The Hacker was fuming behind the mask at the scenario and if he had a gun at him he would have shot the asshole who was holding you, brain splattering onto the dancefloor.

He should be there dancing with you, grinding against your body and making you giggle like a school-girl.

The last straw was when the jerks hand moved to brush his fingers onto the pink necklace that HE gave you, said jerk-fingers brushing against your breast.

That's when the bomb exploded because he took big steps towards the two of you, gloved hand grasping your wrist and tugging you away from the man's embrace. You were ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever it was, but a scream of pain torn through the music and a satisfying crack resounded.

The Hacker punched the man straight in the nose, breaking it, but the guy had to fight and just as that hell broke loose, glasses been thrown, chairs flying by and people fighting.

You were moving along the bodies fighting, going for the exit. The cold air of the night hit your sweaty face. Eyes wide open you couldn't believe what happened. Vivian came after you, making sure you weren't injured.

After one hour everything calmed down, but the mess was irremediable. You were leaning against Vivian's car when a masked face caught your attention.

Normally you would have gone and given him a piece of your mind, about how stupid he can be, but his dislocated shoulder, blood-covered clothes, and the cracked mask made you pity him.

You took a step towards him, but Vivian stopped you.

"I will be fine. You go home." you told her, making her sigh, telling you to be careful.

You walked towards him with your arms crossed, observing him.

"Give me your car keys." you told him, snatching the keys out of his pocket and helping him move towards his car.

He didn't say anything as you got him into the passager seat and you into the driver one. The ride towards your house was quiet, no comments have been exchanged. Getting in, you laid him on the couch and got a first-aid kit.

"Get your hoodie off." you told him and he chuckled dryly.

"So straight-forward, doll." he joked, making you roll your eyes, but alas you helped him get the piece of clothing off, noticing the bruises forming. You managed to put his shoulder back into place, with a deep groan of pain from him.

You noticed blood coming from underneath his mask and you grasped to pull it off, but he stopped you.

"You're hurt and bleeding." you told him and he sighed, leaving your wrists.

You didn't expect him to look so....Devilish like? Maybe a bit too young for his age. You could swear that if he didn't have the stubble on he would look like in his middle 20s.

"Like what ya see, sugar?" He asked with a smug smirk, his busted lip bleeding more, but you stopped him, whipping it away.

"You are an idiot, you know? What were you thinking?" you asked with a glare, still continuing to patch him up.

"That scumbag was touching you." he whispered, grey eyes looking at you with a slight glare.

"It was consensual. Don't tell me you're jealous....God....We are not together." you explained, exasperated.

"I don't like it when people touch what's mine." he responded, making your heart flutter a little.

"You heard me, doll.....Don't tell me the feelings aren't the same." he spoke with a bitter voice, coughing a little.

Yup, his ribs were bruised.

"Erron....I-I do care about you. I cannot lie, I mean you helped me through the bad for almost 3 years and I never once thanked you." you admitted, your eyes moving from his torso, noticing for the first time the dragon tattoo on one of his peeks, meeting his grey eyes.

He smiled a real genuine smile.

"Then why do we act like we're enemies because I sure don't see you that way." he whispered, his bruised lips inching closer to yours until they slightly touched.

He hissed at the pain, hating that he couldn't kiss you deeply, taking your breath away.

"You're hurt." you said, pulling away.

"Hey...I've been stabbed and shot in the past and still could get a hard-on after." he augmented with a smirk.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"You're so despicable." you said with a smirk.

"That's why you love me." he winked, groaning at how sore his muscles were.

"Rest now. You look like shit....I'm gonna make you something to eat." you told him, walking to the kitchen.

"Well, aren't you the sweetest, [Name]? I didn't know we were married."

"I hate you!" you yelled from the kitchen and he laughed.

"Love ya too, sugar!"

[libsterslobsters]

What Is And What Should Never Be Pt 4

Summary: After what was supposed to be a week-long mission (but stretched on for over a month), during which she found out more about their "little stranger", the reader is more than happy to welcome Bucky home.

Also, I suck at summaries.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Language, pregnancy, smut, fluff

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Series masterlist

--------------------------‐----------

“They should be calling me back soon.”

 It’s not the ideal way of communicating with your husband while you’re waiting impatiently for  an ultrasound in your OB-GYN’s office, but texting is all she has, so it’ll have to do. A week long mission has stretched into four and a half weeks, and although they can’t share phone calls (anyone could be listening in), texting has received the all-clear. She’s grateful that, for the sake of this doctor’s appointment, it’s nighttime in his part of the world, so he’s tucked safely away and can at least somewhat experience this with her.

 “I’m gonna give these guys hell for making me miss the chance to spy on our girl.” She chuckles at the message on her screen before typing back her own.

 “What are you going to do if it turns out we’re having a boy?” Since the day she told him she was pregnant, Bucky’s  been convinced this baby is a girl, but they don’t know for sure. Despite trying her best to concentrate on anything her visions can tell her, she’s come up blank. For all they know, the “little miss” they’ve been talking to for the past few months is really a little mister.

 “Teach him how to treat a lady instead of teaching her how to throw a punch.” She snickers. It’s a good response. Still-

 “You do realize she’s the child of two super soldiers. She could have the worst right hook in the world, and the other person would still walk away with a black eye.”

 “Barnes?” That jerks her attention away from her phone. The nurse is standing just outside the waiting area, eyes searching the room. On instinct, she glances around her, making sure no one has reacted to her last name. She’s not the most recognizable of the Avengers, but still, she’d rather not have the world know she visited the obstetrician today. If anyone has put two and two together, they’re doing a good job of hiding it so, readjusting her shirt in an attempt to hide her bump, she stands and follows the nurse out of the room.

 For what feels like the millionth time, she gives her full name and date of birth. The nurse’s eyes widen in recognition, but other than that, she keeps it professional.

 “Just wait in here, hon. Someone will be right with you, okay?”

 “Thank you.”

 The ultrasound room is small, barely more than a broom closet, but at least she’s away from prying eyes. So, she hops up on the table in preparation and takes advantage of the time alone to read the latest message.

 “It’s still a valuable life skill. If she takes after her Mom, she’ll be a looker. I want her to be able to make people think twice before they forget their manners around her.” The message brings a smile to her face, but also makes tears prick at her vision.

 “I wish you were here.” As quickly as she types the sentence, she erases it. He’s simply not able to be here, and that’s all there is to it. No need to make him feel bad about something he’s already beating himself up over.

 The door opens, this time revealing the same ultrasound tech she met at her first appointment. There’s another round of name and date of birth, then settling onto her stool next to the machine, the tech asks,

 “Did you want to know the gender if we’re able to tell today?” When they discussed it, she spent a solid fifteen minutes convincing Bucky that yes, this is a thing they can tell just from those black and white pictures, no she’s not pulling a prank on him, they can find out if they’re having a boy or a girl before the baby’s born. Ultimately they decided-

 “Yes.”

 It’s only the second time she’s been in this position, so everything is still relatively new. A warning about the gel being cold, the pressure of the ultrasound wand against her, and then the screen coming to life. This time around, the baby actually looks more like a baby instead of a blob, and as she watches, she sees a hand go up.

 “You’re feeling movements at this point, right?” She nods. “Good.”

 Starting at the head that still looks far too large, they work their way down the body, different images being captured over every organ. Then-

 “Are you ready to find out if you’ve got a little boy or a little girl in there?”

 She pulls up her phone and rapidly types, “About to find out he or she.” then answers.

 “Yes.”

 There’s a momentary pause, then-

 “Congratulations. Looks like you have a little girl.” This time there’s no stopping it. The tears spill over.

 “Sorry.” She swipes at her cheeks. The tech offers her a sympathetic smile and offers her a few tissues, which she readily accepts.

 The scan goes on for a few more minutes, picture after picture being filed away. Finally, the wand is removed and the tech informs her,

 “I’ll have to confirm with the doctor, but everything looks good. Did you want some pictures to take with you?”

 “Yes, thank you. That would be great.”

 The machine spits out a few images which are torn off and handed to her.

 “I’ll give you some privacy to get cleaned up. Someone will be with you shortly to take you to an exam room, okay?”

 “Thanks.”

 The tech stands and starts towards the door. Hesitating just outside it, she turns.

 “By the way, I couldn’t help but recognize the name on the file.” Oh. Here it goes. “I just wanted to say we really appreciate all you’ve done. The other Avengers too. My little girl loves to pretend that she’s the Soothsayer and runs around telling me, “Mom, I had a vision.” “

 She laughs, a mental picture forming in her mind of a smaller version of the woman in front of her wearing a Halloween costume version of the Soothsayer uniform.

 “That’s good to hear. I’ll pass the word along to the team.”

 The tech disappears down the hall and she cleans herself up. Holding up the clearest ultrasound image, she snaps a picture and attaching it, texts, “It’s a girl.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

 He’s been staring at his phone for the better part of the last four hours but still, Bucky can’t bear to look away. The picture isn’t the best, a little blurry around the edges, but it still has his full attention. That, and the text attached: “It’s a girl.”

 “That thing’s gonna die on you if you don’t put it away soon.” He chuckles in response to Sam’s words.

 “We’re only half an hour out. Somehow, I think I’ll make it.”

 “What’re you staring at anyway?” He hesitates for a moment. Sam knows their big secret, as does Wanda, but so far no one else has caught on. Is it okay for him to share this? His gut tells him that it is, so he holds up his phone, careful to tip the screen so that only Sam can see it.

 “Oh.” Immediate recognition blooms on his partner’s face. “That a recent one?”

 “Yesterday.”

 Not looking away, Sam continues.

 “You know, I sorta thought you were joking before, trying to throw me off what’s really going on, but I guess it’s true.” His eyes narrow, and it’s obvious when he reads the text on the bottom. “A girl?”

 Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile if he tried.

 “A girl.” He would’ve been okay if his hunch turned out to be wrong, but now that he knows for sure that they have a daughter on the way, he’s excited. Excited… and terrified.

 “Damn.” Sam chuckles. “It’s too bad you got rid of the long seventies hair. She could’ve put flowers in it when you play tea party with her.” He snickers. If this baby, his daughter, does indeed want him to have a tea party with her in a few years’ time, he’ll do it, and do it gladly. Hell, he’ll even wear a feather boa and funny hat if that’s what she wants. The world may think that his job is to be an Avenger, but he knows that his real job is at home, taking care of his two girls.

 Eventually the never-ending flight home does indeed end and, after bidding Sam and the rest of their squad goodbye, he climbs into his car and starts the engine. He thinks about shooting her a text letting her know he’s on his way, but the clock on the dash reads four a.m., and he decides it’s best to let her sleep. She’ll more than likely wake up when he crawls into bed next to her anyway since she’s such a light sleeper.

 As the miles pass, his weariness from the mission fades with them, quickly replaced with anticipation. During the war, when his buddies would hang onto the hope of receiving a letter from their sweethearts or wives and once the letter did arrive, keep it close to them, often inside their jacket pressed close against their hearts, he didn’t get it. Sure, there were people at home he missed, and even a few girls he’d had dates with who sent the occasional note, but these guys were so attached to that scrap of paper and the words scrawled across it that they’d read so often, they could recite them at the drop of a hat, and that it just didn’t make sense to him. Well, now it does. Instead of letters, he has texts and voicemails, a few pictures taken over the years of them together (or the occasional snapshot he’s sneaked when she wasn’t paying attention because really, it would be a crime not to capture how perfect she looked right then for all eternity), and most recently, the image of his unborn daughter. Whatever he’s had to do that day, whatever is weighing him down, he knows that it’s all for them, and that makes the load seem bearable.

 Finally, he pulls into his driveway. Killing the engine, he climbs out, leaving his duffle bag full of dirty (and smelly) clothes to be dealt with tomorrow. Right now, he’s on a mission; infiltrate the house quietly, shower covertly, and then crawl into bed with his two girls.

 Parts one and two of his plan go easily enough. He removes his shoes at the door to decrease the chances that she’ll hear his footsteps and takes the stairs agonizingly slowly. The guest bathroom is missing a few key items (like razors; god, he needs a shave), but it has soap and shampoo, so he’s able to shower. The one key element he forgot about is that he doesn’t have any clothes located in this part of the house but, as he tiptoes into their bedroom, he realizes he’s in luck. The closet door is open and- he stifles a chuckle- a pair of his pajamas is laid out on his side of the bed. Looks like she had a vision that he’d be coming home tonight. At least she didn’t wait up.

 After tugging on the bottoms (he disregards the shirt; somehow, they always end up migrating towards the center of the bed, and with her so close to him, he’ll be more than warm enough), he pulls back the covers and eases into bed. Sure enough, she immediately snuggles closer, pressing her back against his chest. He’s not sure if she’s awake until-

 “Welcome home, stranger.” Her voice is rough with sleep, but he can still hear the smile in it.

 “Thanks, Doll. It’s good to be back.” He readjusts his flesh arm to wrap around her waist, his hand instinctively falling to caress the swell of her middle (much larger now than it was four weeks ago), and he’s just about to close his eyes in hopes of getting a few winks when he feels it.

 At first, he thinks he’s imagining things it’s so soft, but then it happens again. A nudge against his palm, harder this time. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s happening, and when he does, he can’t help the shaky breath he exhales against her neck.

 “You okay?” He means to reassure her that he’s fine, but instead what comes out is-

 “She’s moving.” As if in response, he receives another kick.

 “Yeah. She’s saying hello to her dad.” He knew that she was feeling the baby move thanks to a text sent two weeks back, but this is the first time he’s been able to feel it himself. And it’s… unbelievable.

 “Does it hurt you at all, sweetheart? Is it uncomfortable?” She chuckles softly.

 “No, it doesn’t hurt. The only time it’s uncomfortable is if she gets my kidneys, or if I’m trying to sleep.” Which is what she should be doing now.

 Without thinking, he sits up and, leaning over so that his cheek is pressed against the bump, he murmurs,

 “Hey, little miss. This is your Dad. I can’t wait to meet you.” Her hand comes down to cart through his still-damp hair. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk again and you can kick me some more, but right now you need to calm down so your Mom can get some rest. She’s got a big job, looking after me and growing you all at the same time. So why don’t you settle back in and go to sleep, and me and Mom will try to do that too?” He receives one more kick for his efforts and then… stillness.

 “I’m never going to hear the end of this am I? How she already listens to you?”

 He chuckles and eases back down on the bed, pulling her against him once more.

 “Never.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 “… Mom told me to run, and then took off. Didn’t know if she was crazy or an enemy agent or what, so I ran after her.” The words are barely above a whisper, so quiet that she wonders if she’s still dreaming. However, a stirring in her middle settles the matter. She’s awake. This is real.

 “I know. Looking back on it, I probably didn’t make the best first impression, but cut me some slack. It’s not every day the woman you just walked into thirty seconds ago tells you there’s an ambush waiting for you on the next street up. And you should be glad I chased her down. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” Is he-

 “Not that I’d recommend going up to strange men and saving their lives, Little Miss. It’s a good way for someone to get hurt. Probably not you if Banner’s right about the serum being passed down from parent to child, but still. Not a smart idea.” Yes, it’s exactly what she thought. He’s talking to the baby. “Of course, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll kick their ass. Or Mom will. One of us. The other one will stage the scene so it looks like an accident. And, that’s probably something I shouldn’t be telling you on the off chance you’re hearing any of this.”

 “She has ears now.” Her voice is hoarse from disuse, and she grimaces at the sound of it. “Week eighteen’s when they start to work. She can hear us.”

 Blue eyes peer up at her, startled, before melting into the familiar, soft expression he usually wears around her. “Hey, Doll. Did I wake you up?”

 Shaking her head, she reaches out, covering his metal hand still resting on her middle, with her own. “No. She did.” As if in reply, there’s a bump against their palms, and a smile spreads across his face.

 “Yeah. I felt her kicking when I woke up, so I thought I’d try to calm her down for you. Looks like it did just the opposite.”

 “No, you succeeded.” With a yawn, she stretches. “Usually she’s ready to rumble at six a.m. This is an improvement.”

 A mock frown crosses Bucky’s face. “Now listen here, Little Miss. There’s a limited amount of driving your mom crazy that can happen in a twenty-four hour period, and since I’ve known her longer, I’ve got seniority. You’re gonna have to dial it back by an hour, thirty minutes at least in the mornings. It’s not a smart idea to piss off your landlady.” Apparently, their little one doesn’t agree. His eyes go wide at the sudden, strong movement. “What-”

 “She rolled over.” And, that brilliant, genuinely happy smile is back

 “That’s…” He searches for the right word. “...amazing.” It is, but if she focuses on it, she’ll start tearing up, and now’s not the time for a hormone-fueled crying jag.

 “She’s usually active in the morning. Settles down after breakfast.”

 He chuckles. “Is that your way of saying you’d like me to get you something to eat?”  Oh, that sounds good. She has some fresh fruit in the refrigerator, but there’s also mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, and then there’s ramen noodles, which she kind of wants to eat raw for some reason… but no.

 “I’ve got it.” She starts to sit up, but doesn’t get very far before he’s easing her back down.

 “No you don’t. I’m home now, so I can get back to my real job.” Pecking her forehead, he stands. “Taking care of my girls.”

 “Get back here.” It comes out more petulant than she meant it to, which is probably why he pauses just outside the doorway and turns back around to look at her. He didn’t bother with a shirt last night, did he? And those sweatpants… she shakes her head to clear it. “You need your rest.”

 He raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s my line, Doll.”

 How many days worth of scruff is that, she wonders. The last time he’d let it grow out that long was when they were on that mission in Siberia. It was cold as fuck, and even with their enhancements making them more resilient to the weather, when they finally got back to their hotel room that night, they were nearly frozen solid. The heat wasn’t doing a great job, and so the only logical way to stay warm was to completely undress and lie as close as humanly possible in bed under all the blankets they could get their hands on. Of course, naked cuddling usually leads to naked making out, which lead to what is now a very vivid memory of exactly how that stubble felt between her thighs-

 “Which one of us is growing a human right now?” The question snaps her out of her lecherous daydreams. The hormones. That has to be what’s causing this sudden boost in libido.

 Clearing her throat, she shoots back, “Which one of us just spent a month getting shot at?” A month. It’s been a whole month since the last time they did anything in this bed other than sleep. She’s fully capable of getting off by herself, but her fingers are a poor replacement for-

 “Forget it, solnyshka. You’re not gonna win this one. You’re staying in bed. That’s final.” She’d have something to say about him telling her what to do, but that commanding voice… it’s probably best that she stay in bed. At this point, she’s not sure her legs would hold her up.

 “Fine.” It comes out shaky, but it doesn’t appear that he notices.

 “Anything in particular you want?” Yeah, she can think of a few things. “Are you still having food aversions-” Oh. He’s talking about food. “-or has that cleared up?”

 Grabbing hold of her last shred of sanity, she gasps out, “Anything’s fine.”

 He smirks. “Great. Sauerkraut and pickled pig’s feet it is.”

 She’s not sure if she manages a laugh, too busy staring as he walks away. Dammit. She needs to take a few deep breaths, get a hold of herself. With a frustrated groan, she pushes back the covers and climbs out of bed. She needs to splash some cold water on her face. Oh, and pee. She’s constantly peeing.

 The vision hits her just as she’s dabbing her face with a hand towel. He’s leaning over the stove, cooking… are those pancakes? It’s domestic and sweet and infuriatingly, it riles her up even more. Muttering curses in several languages under her breath, she returns to bed and pulls the covers over her head. Maybe if she concentrates on her slight annoyance that he’s cooking shirtless, which is a damn good way to get yourself burned (of course, they heal fast, so it’s not a huge concern), it’ll help her ignore the ache between her thighs.

 Fifteen minutes later when she hears his footsteps on the stairs, she feels like she’s about to spontaneously combust. With a huff, she sits up and attempts to appear normal. As soon as the door opens, she knows it’s a lost cause.

 “Here you go. Pancakes, bacon, and tea.” Setting the tray on the nightstand, he climbs back in bed next to her.

 “Thanks.” It’s nothing out of the ordinary, him leaning towards her, cradling the back of her head with one hand as he kisses her. It’s not unusual for her to wrap her arms around him, nearly pulling him on top of her as she probes his lips with her tongue, begging for entrance. It’s not even odd for the kiss to go from innocent to filthy, his teeth teasing her bottom lip, making her gasp and tug at his hair. What is odd is that, with a chuckle, he pulls away.

 “You’d better eat before it goes cold.”

 Smirking, she hooks the chain holding his dog tags (and his wedding ring, still hidden safely from his mission) around her finger and gives a tug. “You know, there’s this amazing new device called a microwave…”

 His lips curl up into a knowing smirk. “Oh, so that’s what you’re after, huh?”  She feels heat rise to her cheeks as she nods. Luckily, she doesn’t have long to feel embarrassed before his lips are on hers once more.

 She can’t contain her gasp as he pushes aside her panties, fingers trailing over her heat. “Sweetheart, you’re drenched.” A moan escapes her as the tip of one cool, metal finger enters her. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed this earlier? I’d be more than happy to help you out.”  His palm grinds against her clit as, slowly, he begins to thrust his fingers into her.

 Her hand clamps down on his wrist. “Fuck! Bucky-”

 He shushes her, lips trailing wet kisses across her jaw. “Just relax. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 That’s all well and good, but as he eases a second finger into her, the thin, cotton tshirt that’s covering her upper half feels far too restraining. “Please-” She gasps out. “-don’t tease.”

 “I’m not.” A peck to her nose. “I’m not teasing you.”

 “Yes you-” A shudder passes through her as his fingers nudge against her g-spot. “-you are.”

 A sigh fans over her exposed collar bone. “I don’t want to hurt you, Doll.”

 Gathering all her willpower, she tugs his head down to her level. “James Buchanan Barnes, I am not made of glass. If you don’t get inside of me right now-” A particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers makes her gasp.

 “Alright.” She suppresses a whimper at the sudden emptiness. “How do you want it?”

 Her gut screams to tell him, “Anything! Just get on with it!” but a lazy movement in her middle jogs her memory. She can’t comfortably be on her back at this point, and it’s been a month, so she wants to see him…

 “I could ride you.” His eyes turn a shade darker at her words, pupils blown with lust.

 “Well, I’m not gonna say no to that.”

 She’s briefly apprehensive as, after kicking off his bottoms, he eases the t-shirt from her body. She looks a lot different than the last time they did this. What if he doesn’t like-

 “Fuck.” His bottom lip slips between his teeth. “Yeah, you’re definitely on top so I can look at you.”  And just like that, any residual fear melts away and she can’t push the final offending garment from her body fast enough.

 Once he’s resting propped up against the headboard, she takes him in her hand, making him hiss, and slowly, carefully, settles on top of him.

 “Oh, fuck.” She’s not sure which one of them moans, too overwhelmed by the sensation of once again, having him inside of her. Finally. Getting used to the feeling, she circles her hips.

 “Shit.” At any other time, she’d make a joke about how desperate he sounds, but right now… grasping his shoulders for leverage, she gives an experimental rock against him… she’s beyond teasing.

 In the beginning, she sets an easy pace, but with one of his hands grasping her hips, the other one trailing over her middle towards her breasts to tease at the swollen flesh, it doesn’t take long until she’s completely lost, moving against him like her life depends on it.

 “That’s it. Take what you need.” She’s not sure if it’s the words or his thump passing over one sensitive nipple that drives her over the edge, but before she can so much as utter a warning, her orgasm crashes over her.

 When she opens her eyes, she realizes that he’s staring at her, awestruck. “That’s the first time you’ve been able to cum without-” Oh. She didn’t realize, but neither of them have so much as brushed a thumb against her clit. Her surprise must show on her face, because he grins. “Oh, we’re definitely gonna have fun with this.”

 After that, she loses count of how many times she hits her peak, too lost in the feeling of their bodies moving together. One of the advantages of the serum is that they both have incredible endurance, but this is different. It’s something primal, a need she didn’t realize she had being met. Finally, after coming down once again, she wilts against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

 “Tired, solnyshka?” She nods, not lifting her head. His chest rumbles with a quiet chuckle, one she doesn’t have time to understand before she’s being lifted off of his cock and placed gently on her side. A whine escapes her at the momentary loss of contact. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’m not going anywhere.” His body curled around her, he eases back into her, making her hum contentedly.

 After doing all the work so far, she can’t help but think to herself that it’s nice to just lay back and let him take her, his hips snapping against hers as his cock nudges against her g-spot.

 “Do you think you’ve got one more for me, Doll?” His voice is gruff with effort. He’s close, she can tell.

 No sooner has she murmured a quiet “yes” than his hand is between her thighs, fingers toying with the bundle of nerves. Her walls contract, and with a strangled cry, he follows her over the edge.

 It takes a few minutes for her to come back to herself, for the murmured words of approval and “I love you”s to have any meaning, but eventually she does recover and, offering him a lazy smile, she whispers, “Welcome home, Barnes.”

[moonlit-han]

sometimes, wishes don’t come true ↠ huang renjun

genre: angst word count: 1.7k warnings: angst, breakup, swearing request: yes (anon. prompt: “Don’t lie to me.”) a/n: to the anon who said they needed some angst: i hope this suffices~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

You sighed, resting your cheek against the cool tile of your bathroom wall. A shiver passed over you, and you hugged your knees closer to your chest. Your eyes felt dry and itchy from crying—even your throat was sore from holding back screams.

You should have known this was going to happen.

All the signs were there, after all. For years, you’d wished that you and Renjun could be more than just best friends, that you could date. You’d wanted it so fucking much that your desire consumed you, making it nearly impossible for you to feel anything else. At times, you felt like you were watching a different version of yourself walking around and talking with Renjun—a version that was entirely a lie. You had to be so careful not to let something slip about how you felt or else you were sure everything would fall apart. Worst of all, you’d thought he only loved you like a best friend or a sister for years; you just never saw the signs that it might be anything more.

When Renjun confessed to you, you were laying side-by-side on the grass of your high school’s baseball field. He’d insisted on taking your stargazing. He reached out and took your hand, placing it on his heart, and while holding hands was nothing new, you felt his heartbeat racing under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Renjun had sounded so scared when he said he was in love with you, that you immediately rolled over and kissed him full on the mouth. Suffice to say, he was surprised but absolutely thrilled.

That had been the happiest day of your life. It was as if everything had fallen into place, all the stars had aligned, and the calamities of the world had been solved.

Renjun was the perfect boyfriend.

Since you’d been best friends your whole life, you didn’t have to worry about getting to know each other from the start. It was almost too easy to be a couple. Your dates were a lot like just hanging out, but with more casual touches and so, so many more kisses. Kissing Renjun was like the feeling you get on the first true day of spring when the sun is hot on your skin, like that first delicious bite of decadent chocolate cake, like falling asleep to the soft sound of rain. You could spend hours just kissing and never get bored.

The strangest part of actually dating was when you were intimate. You’d swum with Renjun more times than you could count, had definitely changed in front of each other, and you were pretty sure you’d seen everything he had. Well, almost everything. And then, you had seen, felt, and tasted everything that was Huang Renjun. But him bare before you felt almost wrong, like you were too close to knowing his soul. But, maybe that was just because this was the last thing between you and you nearly knew his soul anyway. Even with the strangeness, everything was perfect.

You should have listened to the stories in the books you grew up reading. Be careful what you wish for. Look for the worm at the heart of the perfect apple. Everything comes with a price.

Eleven months passed in bliss with Renjun before things began to change. You’d both started your third year of college and were busier than you’d ever imagined you could be. The time you spent together dwindled until you only saw each other two or three times a week instead of multiple times every day. Communication became almost strained, with you calling and messaging Renjun more than he ever did you.

But, you were still in love.

One day, Renjun seemed to disappear. You couldn’t get in touch with him no matter how hard you tried, and his friends wouldn’t give you a straight answer. As the sun set, you found yourself growing angrier and angrier at your boyfriend. Leaving you with no notion of where he was or what he was doing? Did he not know how much you’d worry? You didn’t have to spend every waking moment with him—in fact, you preferred if you didn’t—but at least knowing he was okay would be nice.

More than nice. Necessary.

Renjun was back the next day as if nothing had happened. He showered you with the usual affection, promising to take you out for a fantastic date that weekend.

When you asked where he’d been the day before, all he could say was “Around. I just needed a day to myself. Stop bothering me, Y/N.”

No matter how many times you asked, no matter how nicely you said you loved him, he wouldn’t say more. Two hours later, you were just as frustrated.

“Renjun, I’m gonna go home,” you grumbled, gathering your things. Renjun just continued reading silently. “If you ever decide that you’re going to tell me where the hell you were yesterday and why you’re now ignoring me, let me know. Until then, I’ll be at home, probably binge-watching a show.”

“No, don’t watch our show!” Renjun said, finally looking up.

“Really?” you demanded. “That’s all you have to say right now?”

“What . . .”

“I’m going home. Call me tomorrow so we can talk.” You firmly closed the door to his apartment behind you, relishing the satisfying thunk the wood made.

When you got home, you practically ran to the bathroom to strip off your clothes and hurl yourself into the shower. The heat of the water always helped calm you. After what was probably too long in the shower, you put on your cat onesie and crawled into bed with your laptop. Just to spite Renjun, you watched a full two seasons of the show the two of you had been watching together. You didn’t care what he thought.

As you’d hoped, you and Renjun made up the next day and he did take you on that fantastic date. He’d said that he truly had just spent the day by himself—he’d gone on a hike in the nature preserve nearby, and even had pictures as proof. Although, to your slightly suspicious mind, they could’ve been taken anywhere. But, you had to think the best of your boyfriend, had to trust him.

Three weeks later, you couldn’t have guessed when you woke up that morning that it would be the last time you would ever say “I love you” to Huang Renjun.

It was the day after your one-year anniversary, and Renjun showed up at your door looking utterly bedraggled. He hadn’t even hugged or kissed you when you let him in, just shoved by you into the living room. Frowning, you walked into the room to see Renjun pacing back and forth along the length of your sofa.

“Ren, what’s wrong?” you asked, reaching out to touch his arm. Renjun flinched away, and you withdrew your hand to cross your arms as you stood in front of him. He didn’t answer.

“Renjun,” you tried again, trying to keep weeks of frustration and confusion out of your voice, “babe, just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help or do anything I can! I love you. I hate seeing you like this. What happened? Please, just tell me.”

Renjun was silent for what seemed like a hundred years, finally coming to a stop so that the two of you were directly facing each other over the coffee table.

“You really want to know, Y/N? Do you really?” he spat. You’d never heard Renjun sound like this before: angry, despairing, and like he was at the end of his tether.

“Yes! Just tell me and then maybe we can fix it or I can help or something!”

Renjun let out a laugh that was mostly a sneer, and leaned across the intervening space between you. You had to stop yourself from stepping backward.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he said with deliberate care, the words coming out of his mouth like bullets fired at close range. “There. You asked what was wrong and I told you. I don’t love you anymore and haven’t for weeks.”

You felt hot tears begin to slide down your face as you stared numbly back at him. Didn’t love— No. No, no, no. NO!

“I don’t believe you,” you said, your voice barely audible but you knew your fury could be heard nonetheless. “You fucking bastard. I can’t believe it. What happened?” Your voice rose as you lost your grip on your anger. “Did you find someone else? Don’t lie to me. What the hell happened? Did I get boring? Could you just not take it anymore? What the fuck, Renjun?!”

He just stood there as you yelled. He didn’t try to defend himself, didn’t try to make excuses. Once you’d called him every name you could think of, Renjun raised his eyebrows.

“Are you done?” he said sardonically.

You spluttered.

Renjun rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t find someone else. I just realized that I don’t love you anymore. We should’ve never tried to date, Y/N. It was a doomed relationship from the start.” Renjun tiredly ran a hand through his hair.

“I— Things were so good,” you said, sniffling. “How could you think it was doomed?”

“Grow up, Y/N. Not everything’s a fucking fairytale. Sometimes you don’t get everything you want and thinking otherwise just going to see you get hurt even more.” He huffed. “I can’t do this. Goodbye, Y/N.”

With that, he turned around and walked out your door.

So now here you were, curled up on your bathroom floor. You’d been sobbing for hours, feeling like your still-beating heart had been cut out of your chest with red-hot razors. Your head pounded from lack of air and water, and too much pressure from crying. All you wanted was to sleep but you couldn’t stop thinking about Renjun. He was your best friend and the love of your life. You’d talked to him nearly every day of your life since the time you were eight.

And now, he was just gone.

Completely gone.

You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again.

You felt utterly empty and alone, like an unmoored ship drifting out to sea. The world had lost its center.

You should have listened to the stories: Be careful what you wish for.

[puckinghell]

If The World Was Ending | Andre Burakovsky

Summary: If the world was ending, you’d come over, right? Based on the song with the same name Words: 2.3k Note: I was gonna make this super angsty but it turned out a weird mixture of angst and fluff. I couldn’t be bothered to check this for spelling/grammer/making sense so excuse me for that

--- 

"We interrupt your programming. This is a national emergency. A significant environmental event has been detected, that will impact the Greater United States. You and your loved ones should seek shelter immediately. Please stand by for further updates.” 

The croaky radio voice disappears as the room falls into silence. You look around, but there’s nothing to betray your location: the room is empty, except for a small old school radio in the corner. There’s not even a window. 

Then you notice there’s not even a door.

You’re standing with your phone in your hand and somehow, without making the conscious decision to, you lift it. On the screen, there’s an open iMessage thread. On the top, it says the name Do not call.

There’s only one person that can be, and the last message on your screen would confirm that, except you can’t read it. The screen is blurry, too blurry to make out the letters, but you don’t really need to read them anyway: you know the message.

The words have been carved in your heart for the past four months. 

You: I love you.

Andre: I know. I just need some space

Andre: It’s just hard to talk to you right now

You: Ok

You: But I’m here if you need me

Suddenly, there’s a noise coming from outside the room. Heavy footsteps, slowly against a wooden floor. You turn around and notice a door has appeared. It opens, and you know who’s there before you even see his face.

Andre.

---

You gasp so loudly you nearly choke on the air you inhale, and sit up straight. The familiarity of your bedroom around you doesn’t quite manage to calm you down, as it’s dark and quiet around you.

Too quiet. No warm body next to you, no steady exhale of air passing lips. The bed is empty.

Slowly, you lower yourself back into your pillow. It’s not the first time you’ve had this nightmare: for some reason your mind loves to remind you of the fact that you’ve lost the love of your life, and it likes to warp it with the fear of the world ending.

It’s fine. You’re doing great. 

Outside, the city of Washington is calm. A single car passes through your street and then it’s quiet again. You focus on it, try to let your thoughts pass in the same way, try to quiet your mind. 

It doesn’t work. One memory keeps coming back, keeps itself planted firmly in the forefront of your brain, as if it’s a movie, playing behind your closed eyelids. 

Maybe this memory is the reason for your nightmares, or maybe it’s just one of the many memories you can’t forget. Because the moment you forget, you have to let go of him.

You don’t think you’re ready for that yet, which is fine, because you don’t think you’ve figured out how to do that, anyway.

---

1 year ago

“Are you telling me you’re gonna be late again?” you whined into the phone. “Andre, I’m hungry! I’m gonna have dinner without you!” 

Your boyfriend giggled, ringing clear over the background noise of his teammates yelling.

“You can start without me.” 

That was not the reaction you were hoping for, and you pouted your lips, even though he couldn’t see that over the phone. You were pretty sure your tone of voice portrayed the same emotion.

“But I don’t want to. I want you here. With me.” 

“Me too, baby.” Andre sounded remorseful, at the very least. “But we’re gonna watch tape, and I have to...” 

“Do anything you can, I know,” you interrupted. You got it, you really did; Andre wasn’t performing to the level he thought he was capable of and he’d promised himself he’d do whatever it took to get to that level.

Unfortunately, that meant you’d been seeing less and less of him.

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s those same words he whispered in your ear that night, when he crawled into bed next to you many hours later. You’d been half asleep, but your body reacted to his presence, and when his lips touched your neck you’re fully awake.

“Hey stranger,” you teased him; it was meant to be a harmless joke, but you felt his body tense next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, an edge of sadness to his voice that you didn’t get from him often. 

You turned around to face him, cupped his cheek in your hand.

“Hey, don’t be upset. It’s just a missed dinner, it’s not the end of the world.” 

Andre didn’t answer, simply turned his head so he could press kisses into the palm of your hand.

“If the world was ending, you’d come over, right?” you asked, your voice soft through the quiet night. Andre looked up, brown eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name, but felt right in your core.

“The sky could be falling and I would be alright if I was holding you.” 

---

The nightmares leave your body tired and your mind exhausted, and you find yourself pulling through your day to day life. 

Your mind keeps playing tricks on you. One day you’re sitting in traffic listening to the radio when the news anchor talks about an earthquake that happened somewhere far away.

If there was an earthquake here, what would be Andre’s reaction?

It’s a strange thought to have pop into your head and you immediately try to push it away, ignore it, but it sticks with you. 

When you go out to a bar with your friends and there’s a Colorado game on in the bar, that about does it.

“Who’s down for tequila shots?” you ask, slamming your credit card on the bar, and your friends cheer. Maddie, your best friend, however, bumps against your shoulder.

“Are you doing alright, Y/N?”

No, you’re not. But there’s not really anything you can do against that: not when the reason for you being miserable is currently in Colorado, playing - and winning, you see - a game against the Ducks. 

It’s at least three beers and two tequila shots later that you’re sitting in a cab home, with Maddie next to you.

“You gotta figure out how to get over him, babe,” she says, her voice laced with pity.

You don’t respond. She doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand: how could you ever get over him, when he was the love of your life?

That night flashes through your mind, that night everything went to pieces.

---

4 months ago

“This isn’t working, Andre.” Your lip was trembling but you tried to keep your voice steady. It worked, almost; then Andre’s face fell and you nearly bursted into tears.

You didn’t plan to throw it all out there like this: he was home for the first time since he left for Colorado, for the first time in months you’ve got him back in your apartment, sifting through your kitchen cupboards to find his favorite mug. 

Finally he was back where he belongs. And yet...

You could see it. The way his eyes were shining, how he was holding his head up high. It was like a weight got lifted from his shoulders, and it was clear to you now: Washington was weighing him down. 

And you, you were the last thread that was keeping him tethered to this place. If not for you, he could finally fully be in Colorado, finally let go of this part of his life. 

As long as you’re here, he won’t.

“What are you talking about?” Andre asked, sounding panicked. “Y/N, what’s going on?” 

You lied, then. You told him this long distance thing just wasn’t working for you, that you needed more of him.

He wasn’t having it, threw back argument after argument about why this is working. He asked you to come to Colorado with him. He even said he’ll ask for a trade back to Washington; you knew it would never happen but you could tell he’s 100% serious.

He would come back here if it meant keeping you, even when he’s clearly happier over there. 

So you said the only thing you know would hurt him, would get him to take you seriously. 

The only thing that would make him believe it’s really over.

“You wouldn’t even come over here if the world was ending, and I was about to die alone.”

You saw the words hit him; he recoiled from them, from you, physically took a step back as his mouth set into a hard line.

You knew it’s not true: if the world was ending, he’d come over and he’d hold you, and you wouldn’t even be afraid.

Not like you are now.

If the world was ending, there would be no reason to say goodbye. 

---

It’s not like you and Andre parted on bad terms.

After that big fight, you had an adult conversation with him - at least, you hope that’s how he remembers it.

You just remember lying.

You never told him you were just trying to get him to be happy in Denver, with nothing weighing him down in Washington. You didn’t tell him that even if you moved to Denver with him, you were scared your presence was going to bring back that slump in his shoulders, make that brightness in his eyes disappear.

You told him, instead, that you needed someone who was there more. Who could be physically present when you needed someone, not just on the phone. That you loved him, but that he didn’t make you happy anymore.

The only truth you told him that day, in fact, had been “I love you.” And when you had said: “I love you, but you’re not enough”, you had meant: “I love you, and I’m sorry I’m not enough.” 

But he didn’t know that.

You had texted sporadically, the weeks after, until that dreaded text came. 

It just hurts to talk to you right now.

You didn’t even blame him, and so all contact had ceased.

Now the two of you were only ever together in your mind. 

Which is why you nearly drop your phone in the sink when you’re doing dishes and suddenly his name flashes on the screen.

It’s 2 am which means it’s midnight for him, so obviously the first thought that pops up into your head is, oh my God, he’s hurt, and there’s no time for another, more rational, thought before you’ve picked up the phone.

“Andre?” 

It’s quiet, for a second, then a deep exhale. 

“There was an earthquake.”

A million miles fly through your brain, but Andre continues before you can talk.

“It was just a tiny one. I was in traffic, didn’t even feel it. But it made me think. I always promised you if the world ended, I’d be there holding you. But you never promised it back.” 

You suppose that’s right: it wasn’t intentional, and you always felt like it was insinuated in the kisses you shared, the “I love you”’s and the way you looked at him, but you never said it, never promised it. 

“Andre,” you start, but he interrupts you, and his voice is small.

“I know you know that we both know you weren’t down for forever, and that’s fine. I know you think we weren’t meant for each other and that’s fine, too. But... If the world was ending, you’d come over, right?” 

You don’t tell him he lives over 1600 miles away, you don’t tell him the world isn’t ending. You can’t, because he sounds so vulnerable, so upset, and your heart feels heavy with how much you miss him.

“Yeah,” you whisper softly into the phone. “Yeah, I’d be there.” 

“It’s funny,” Andre says, but he doesn’t sound like he finds anything funny at all, his tone humorless and heavy. “It’s funny cause you say that, and I know you’re thinking you can say that without consequences because the world is never gonna end. But you know what?” 

“What?” you manage to bring out.

“I fucking feel like my world is ending.” Andre bites out the words as if he’s been holding them in, locking them on the tip of his tongue, for a long time, and now they’re bursting at the seams. “I have been feeling like my world ended the day you told me you didn’t want me anymore. Because you were my world and now you’re gone, so what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t stop loving you, so now I’m loving you just for the hell of it, and I’m doing whatever I can to keep living my life but it’s not working, it’s not working cause my world ended the day you left and you didn’t come over like you just promised you would.”

He sighs; it’s like now that the words are out of him so is the anger, and he sounds tired and helpless, when he adds: “I shouldn’t even have called. Forget it.” 

He hangs up, then, leaving you standing in the kitchen with a dead phone in your hand, staring out of the window and wondering how you could’ve fucked up so badly.

And you know, in that moment, that you have to do something. That you misjudged everything, and that you shouldn’t have just expected Andre to stop thinking about you and be happy.

How could you, when it’s been so impossible for you to think about him without it feeling your heart is getting ripped out of your chest?

You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you search for flights to Denver and buy the first one you see, the one that leaves in a few hours. 

You don’t bother buying a return ticket. After all, you promised you’d come over and hold him tight. Fine, you said you would do that when the world ends, and maybe the world isn’t done yet; but it sure feels like the sky is falling and you guess the end of the world is too uncertain, anyway.

The world might never end, but it sure is waiting on you to get your shit together.

Less than 24 hours later you’re standing in front of Andre’s front door, shuffling your feet while you wait for the door to open. 

You’re not sure what to expect when it does: you sure hope he’s happy to see you but you can imagine he might not be, he might be angry and upset and he might even slam the door in your face.

But when he does finally open, the only emotion you see is shock.

“Y/N?” he asks, his voice guarded. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” 

Yes, everything is wrong: it’s wrong that you’re standing here as if this is not your home, it’s wrong that you feel like you’re drowning in the familiarity of his brown eyes, it’s wrong that he’s there and you haven’t kissed him yet. 

You don’t say any of that. Instead, you say: “You said your world was ending.” 

Slowly, the corners of Andre’s mouth turn up, and something that resembles the hint of a smile plays around his lips. 

“So you came over?” 

“Right,” you say, and when a full, bright smile lights up Andre’s face, you know everything is going to be exactly as it’s supposed to be.

Andre echoes: “Right.” 

And that’s exactly it. Suddenly, everything is right. 

[youngkbf]

Post Breakups With Monsta X

wc: 4.1k+

to celebrate miss fantasia x

masterlist in bio

Hyunwoo freezes after the words leave his mother’s mouth. How are they doing? And suddenly all eyes are on him and Hyunwoo just wants to disappear. He thinks about her question and realizes that despite everything that has happened, he hasn’t thought about you in a while. He’s doing better than he expected. Still, the memory of you hits like a ton of bricks, and Hyunwoo clears his throat, hoping that the action can somehow buy him enough time for him to organize his thoughts.

The day you met flashes through his mind, the way your eyes sparkled in the sunset, the way you laughed, the way you’d stay up when he came home late. He thinks about how your arms felt around him, the sound of your voice, your little quirks, and even the things he found annoying. It’s bittersweet, but his mouth quickly tastes sour once he remembers the end. The day you told him you were leaving, the dreams you left behind, the hopes for the future, the pain, the heartache, and the silence. He remembers his silent apartment and how he learned to live with the quiet. Hyunwoo realizes now how much he can’t stand it, but still pushes through it hoping that one day it gets easier. He’s terrified that it’s always going to be like this, but he pushes those thoughts into the back of his mind not wanting to jinx it.

Hyunwoo looks around, suddenly realizing that everyone is still waiting for an answer. His mother is looking at him, half expectant, half concerned and Hyunwoo bites the inside of his cheek. He hasn’t told her, he knows how much she loves you and she knows how happy you made him. He didn't want to break her heart back then and it dragged on until this exact moment. Hyunwoo knows that he didn’t keep quiet for his mother. He knows he did it because it hurts to talk about it. It hurts to say your name. It hurts to say that you just left. He doesn’t want to hear the mandatory awkward silence as his words ring through the air. He’s tired of silence. Hyunwoo doesn't want the pitiful looks, the pats in the back, the pathetic attempts of finding him someone new. All Hyunwoo wants is to forget.

He glances at his mother one last time, his lips instinctively curling up into a weak smile that he hopes it’s enough to convince her. I’m doing this for her, he tells himself one last time praying that his heart finally believes it before he opens his mouth. They’re doing okay.

Hoseok feels like a zombie. Empty head and empty heart wandering around, hoping for time to pass by. It’s been a while since he stopped counting the days, all of them are jumbled up together in one big blob of meaningless existence. He hates it. He hates this life without you, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Hoseok tries his best to appear like he’s fine. It’s not that he doesn’t want to deal with his feelings. He just doesn’t want anyone to worry.

Hyunwoo’s birthday is something Hoseok refuses to miss, despite canceling all the other plans last minute. His friends still invite him, but he’s sure it’s because they don’t want him to feel left out. He’s losing them too, he knows. The dinner goes well, a bunch of takeout and drinks on the table and his friends are happy and cheering. Still, Hoseok can’t bring himself to have fun. Physically, he’s there, but as the alcohol starts coursing through his veins, so do all his suppressed thoughts and his mind starts wandering.

Hoseok can’t think about the happy moments, the little things that made his heart skip a beat. All he can think is about that night when you told him you didn’t love him anymore. He doesn’t blame you, he could never. It’s not your fault for falling out love, but maybe it’s his for not realizing it sooner. And even if he ends up accepting that it’s not his fault either, Hoseok is still the one that was left behind to pick up the pieces. Months and months of wondering where he failed, what he did wrong, what he could’ve done to make you stay. Despite your reassurance that he was never the problem, he can’t help but think he is.

Hoseok is so distracted by his thoughts that he misses Minhyuk’s cue for a toast. Everyone but him stands up, half-empty cups raised together as a very embarrassed Hyunwoo watches. Hyungwon nudges him and it takes Hoseok a few seconds to realize what’s going on. You okay, man? He asks, knowing damn well that he isn’t, but still feels like he needs to ask. I just miss them, that’s all. It’s not all, but it’s all Hoseok says. Changkyun sighs loudly, lowering his cup a bit too fast and spilling some of his drink on the wooden table. His cheeks are flushed, an evident sign of his drunken state when he turns to Hoseok. They left you, dude. Just accept it and get your shit together. A heavy silence falls into the room, filling up every space it can reach. Hyunwoo shushes Changkyun before he can open his mouth again and suddenly all eyes are on him, waiting. They wait for an explosion, anger, tears, rage. They expect a reaction. And maybe, the Hoseok before you would’ve given them just that. But he doesn’t have the strength to do that anymore. Can you blame him? Can you blame him for feeling like a big part of him died when the one he loved decided one day they didn’t love him anymore? It’s like he’s been pushed off the edge of a cliff and his safety net — you — was taken out from under him. And now he’s just falling into an abyss that Hoseok feels like he’ll never be able to crawl out of.

All he does is swallow the knot in his throat as the words sink in, and stands up. The others flinch, expecting the worst. You’re right, it’s all he says. Hoseok raises his cup, before turning to his older friend. Happy birthday, hyung.

The room slowly fills with noise again, the awkward atmosphere slowly dying down. Hoseok sits down once again, Changkyun’s words echoing in his brain. The truth hurts to hear, to admit, and to face and he wishes there was a way he could avoid it. Some goodbyes are needed, this was not one of them.

Minhyuk’s vision is blurry, and his mind is hazy. He clutches his phone in between his trembling fingers, the cold tile of the bathroom wall providing some relief to his overheated body. It takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s his bathroom, and the footsteps in the kitchen remind him that Kihyun brought him home earlier. He sobered up a bit, but his ears are still ringing from the loud music playing at the party. Minhyuk starts remembering why he drank so much, what he’s trying to forget. Part of him wishes that he could permanently forget, but he’s not ready to let go just yet. After all, it hasn’t been that long. And Minhyuk knows he’s going to regret it in the morning, the massive headache and upset stomach will make him hate himself and swear he won’t get that drunk again. But when he drinks, he forgets and when he forgets he’s free. Free from the pain, the sorrow, the tears, the longing, the heartbreak, and everything that has been eating him up alive lately.

Now that he sobered up, his thoughts are once again clouded with you. Mostly, with the fact that you’re not here. He knows it’s normal to feel bad about a breakup, but not like this. Never like this. Unlocking his phone, he opens his messages. His fingers dance over the keyboard, mind jumbled up with things he wants to say but Minhyuk doesn’t feel like they’re enough. Are you doing okay? He quickly deletes that. It’s late, too late to ask someone if they’re doing okay. Minhyuk curses under himself for still being concerned about you, he can’t help it. Was I not enough? No, not that either. He still has some pride left, he knows he did all he could. He knows he always bent over backwards for you. He keeps typing and deleting until Kihyun enters the bathroom with two water bottles and a cold towel. He shoves his phone in his pocket, knowing that Kihyun would nag him for even thinking about reaching out to you, especially when he’s like this. Minhyuk knows he’s right but all logic is thrown out the window when the sun goes down.

Kihyun makes him drink some of the water and wipes his face with the cold towel before Minhyuk can convince him he’s okay enough to stand up and that he can go home. Kihyun reluctantly leaves, and the silence is once again deafening. Minhyuk gets up on shaky legs and stumbles his way into his room. He stops in front of the dresser where a picture of the two of you still stands. Fighting off the tears, he mumbles something hateful towards you, hoping that in time he’ll convince himself that he hates you more than he ever loved you.

Minhyuk plops down on the bed, still thinking that he hates you, that he has to hate you. But he can’t convince himself of that and he’s sure he never will. Suddenly he remembers what he was doing earlier and fishes his phone out of his pocket. Your conversations are still open, and Minhyuk can’t help but read through some of them, before it gets too painful and tears blur his vision. He wipes them and looks down at the last text he typed out in the bathroom. Minhyuk convinces himself that it’s the last time he’s doing this —  that you’ll either come back or that in the morning his heartache will be magically healed —  before pressing send. I miss you.

Kihyun has someone else hanging off his arm the first time he sees you after the breakup. And that doesn't bother him, at least not until he sees that you’re not alone either. He’s not sure why that bothers him, but suddenly the thought of you being happy without him is enraging. Call it pride, jealousy, lack of closure, he doesn’t know what it really is. The ocean of feelings that swarmed his chest makes it hard to breathe, and he barely registers their voice when they ask why he looks so upset. Kihyun is good at playing pretend, so he quickly plasters a smile on his face and grabs their hand, reassuring them he’s okay. It shouldn’t bother him since he’s the one that broke things off. Right?

Throughout the entire evening, Kihyun can’t stop glancing at you. Why on his first date after the breakup? Why are you doing this to him? He knows it’s not your fault, but he feels like he needs to blame someone. It makes it easier to deal with all the emotions that finally hit him, leaving him blue and seeing red. If his date notices him looking over at you every few minutes, they don’t say it, but Kihyun is smart enough to understand that they’re no longer interested. In a way, it’s reassuring because he lost interest the moment he laid his eyes on you. He won’t need to come up with an excuse at the end of the night and hope his words won’t make him sound like a douchebag.It isn’t until you’re about to leave that your eyes meet. And suddenly time slows down and everything else in the room loses importance. Kihyun feels his heart speeding up in his chest, now painfully aware of how much he still loves you and how stupid he was to let you go. Even in the dimly lit restaurant, Kihyun sees something that resembles a fond look in your eyes. It’s only for a split second and it’s quickly covered up by a cold gaze. His chest tightens because he knows it’s directed at him and as he watches you walk out the door he has the urge to follow you outside.

Dropping a few bills on the table and spitting out an excuse that he has to leave right away, Kihyun gets up, his chair screeching loudly against the floor. His mind can barely keep up with his legs as he walks towards the exit. What is he going to say once he sees you? Are you even going to talk to him? Is there a way he can apologize for what he put you through? All these questions clog up his mind and throat, making it hard to breathe but Kihyun pushes through. The cold night air hits him, leaving an uncomfortable tingling behind but he ignores it, looking for you. He spots you a few feet away, hands buried in the pockets of your coat and your back turned to him. Just the sight of you makes his chest a little lighter, words flowing easier in his mind. He knows what to say, for the first time he’s ready to pour out his heart to you. The situation is not ideal, he never expected to do it outside the restaurant where you’re both on dates with other people, but he takes what he can get.

You turn around at the sound of his footsteps, eyes boring into his until a car pulls up in front of you. Kihyun opens his mouth to call out your name, but his voice gets stuck in his throat. Once again, it seems like time slows down as you turn back and open the car door before getting in, not even sparing him a second glance. Kihyun knows this was his last chance and he just wasted it. Now, he can only watch as the car drives off. It’s over, he lost you.

Hyungwon tosses and turns, frustrated. His room is so dark that he can barely tell the difference between having his eyes open or closed. It’s not that he likes the darkness, but it makes it easier to cope with the empty side of the bed. If he can’t see it, maybe it’s easier to fall asleep or at least Hyungwon hopes so. The bed creaks after he turns for what it seems to be the millionth time that night and he decides to get up. There’s no use in trying to sleep anymore, no matter how tired his body feels, he knows it won’t happen anytime soon. As he walks barefoot to the kitchen, Hyungwon stops in his tracks right outside the living room, eyes fixated on the coffee table. The box you had dropped at his doorstep earlier that day sat there, almost taunting his sleep-deprived figure. He doesn’t know how it slipped his mind that it was there as he remembers just staring at it for ten minutes after realizing that you didn’t even want to face him when giving back his things.

It’s still too early to think about moving on, deciding what to do with the contents of the box and all your stuff still in his closet. But you made up your mind and got rid of all the physical evidence of his passage through your life that you could find. That doesn’t sit right in his chest and he suddenly feels angry. Why did you just give up? Wasn’t he worth fighting for? Without realizing, Hyungwon is walking towards the box, fists clenched and heart beating fast against his ribcage.

The first thing he takes out of the box is a t-shirt. There’s some toothpaste stains on it and a few holes but he remembers how much you used to love to sleep in it. He grabs a few more t-shirts, the items remaining in his hands for a bit longer than usual since the smell of your fabric softener felt comforting. It’s familiar and it brings him back to a time where things were okay. You were his, and he was yours. Now that things changed, Hyungwon can’t help but hold on to the past a bit too tightly. Life without you is scary, but he refuses to acknowledge it. So instead, he buries his feelings deep inside, where light can’t reach them and he’s happy with living with a vacant chest.

Hyungwon stumbles backward into the couch, feeling too overwhelmed to keep going through the contents of the box. The sun is rising in the sky as he clutches one of the t-shirts in his hands as if they’re his last memory of you, carving out a deeper hole in his chest. All these things Hyungwon convinced himself he didn’t feel are haunting him every night. He needs to do something. He has to get you back.

Jooheon knows that he shouldn’t be here. As he glances at your sleeping figure next to him, he almost curses out loud. He fights off the urge to run his fingers through your hair, clenching the sheets until his knuckles turn white. It’s not like that anymore. He knows exactly how your hair will feel in between his fingers and how you’ll unconsciously lean into his touch. He knows because he’s done all of that. And it’s not his place to do so anymore.

The space between the two of you feels like an ocean, miles and miles that he’s willing to cross to shatter his heart even more. Jooheon is still so wrapped around your finger that he comes to you every time his phone rings. It’s over, so why are you both here? Perhaps it’s denial, both of you refusing to accept the fact that things between the two of you have come to an end. Jooheon finds comfort in the fact that he’s not alone in this. But on the other hand, it hurts so much more. The way that you still remember things about each other and stop yourselves halfway through a sentence, a joke remembered, a distant memory of happy times brought up. That’s not what you two are doing here.

Your room still looks the same, your little habits just as he remembers them. Fairy lights still hang above your desk. The vanilla-scented candles are still on the dresser and there’s still a sweatshirt carelessly thrown across the back of a chair. It’s so familiar, so nostalgic, so painful that it’s hard for him to be in there. But at the same time, Jooheon doesn’t want to leave because that means that he has to leave you behind too. What the two of you are doing is nothing but spare yourselves from pain on a short term, but wrecking your hearts past the point of them being fixable in the long run. It’s nothing but a dose of morphine that wears off in no time and leaves the two of you addicted to the quick fix.

The sun is starting to rise in the sky when Jooheon manages to pull himself out of the downward spiral he threw himself into after staying up all night overthinking. You shift, startling him but you don’t wake up. He stares down at you, head leaning against the headboard, eyes heavy and puffy, chest tight and empty. All of this hurts you too, he knows. You’re better at hiding your emotions, but he still knows you like the back of his hand. He hates himself, and he almost hates you for letting this go on for so long. But at the end of the day, there’s no one to blame. You’re only human after all, and it’s a natural tendency to keep repeating the same mistakes hoping the end will turn out different. Love and logic can’t exist in the same reality, Jooheon knows that now. But love and hurt walk hand in hand, that he’s known for a long time. Jooheon can’t keep hurting himself, or you. So he gets out of bed, eyes roaming the floor for his clothes, gets dressed, and looks back at you one more time. As the new day begins, Jooheon makes the decision to not hurt anymore, to not hurt you anymore. He’s leaving, and he can’t come back. He’s not coming back.

Changkyun mentally curses out Minhyuk as he sits at the small round table. Speed dating is something the older does for fun, why did he drag him into it? How did Changkyun let himself get dragged into this? Perhaps, he’s just looking for a distraction, something to get his mind off you. He fumbles with the end of the red table cloth, a glass of wine half empty sitting right in front of him until he hears the bell ring. Someone sits across from him a few seconds later. The person on the other side of the table smiles at him before they introduce themselves. Changkyun smiles back before saying his name, perfectly aware that he won’t remember theirs. They’re not shy, maybe a bit too confident — almost to the point where he can detect a hint of arrogance — and he knows that even if he was interested in being there, he wouldn’t be interested in them. The small time they have to get to know each other is spent talking about them, better yet, they talk about themselves as Changkyun nods along only half listening. He spaces out thinking how it would be if you were sitting across from him instead, how stupid you’d find this whole thing. How you’d mock him for letting Minhyuk talk him into this and how ridiculous the whole setup is. He finds himself smiling at the thought of your laugh, how you’d roll your eyes and twirl the glass of wine on the table. The bell rings again and they leave, much to Changkyun’s relief.

The second person is a lot shyer. He can tell this is not their thing, and he feels more at ease. It’s not that it isn’t his, but they’re not there with the same intentions. The conversation is more balanced this time and even in a short amount of time, Changkyun can tell that if things were different he’d like to get to know them better. Unfortunately, his heart still belongs to you. You have it with you, wherever you are and Changkyun doesn't know how to move on from the dreadful feeling that has taken over his vacant chest like a disease. What he does know is that the person across from him can’t read his mind, they can’t see the baggage you left behind that he doesn’t know how to deal with. They’re not scars, but still open wounds that don’t seem to want to heal anytime soon. And as the bell rings again, pulling Changkyun from his suffocating thoughts of you, they grab the napkin and a pen from their bag. The napkin is then slid over to him, digits, a name, and a winky face written in black ink.

Changkyun leaves before the next person takes a seat. He goes out into the parking lot and sits in his car staring down at the crumpled up napkin. Should he call? Maybe this is his chance. He doesn’t have to deal with the mess in his chest, but he can always start over. The sound of his phone distracts him from his thoughts and his heart skips a beat when he sees a text from you. Hey, can we talk?

[imlovethomassanders]

Destined - Chapter 1

You can also read on ao3

This work is complete, and new chapters will be added everday until completion:

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: Damien never wanted soulmates. When his fifteenth birthday came, he prayed he wouldn't receive a "hint" - a way soulmates are connected to help find each other. And to Damien's horror, the universe gives him multiple soulmates. He's determined to not let them find out about them. He wants to let them live in ignorant bliss and not force them to deal with him. As Damien grows older, he moves away and goes to college - He even manages to find a boyfriend that he chose himself, and Damien tells himself that he's happy. But on Damien's twentieth birthday, the universe gives him and his soulmates another hint - and this one is not one Damien can avoid.

Pairing: DLAMP

Warnings:Abusive romantic relationship (physically, sexually, and verbally), past physical parental abuse, sex and alcohol mentions,  general angst (but happy ending)

Words: 4136

Tag list:

@touchstarvedvirgil

@lamp-calm-sanders

@ninjago2020

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@secret-novelisthost18

@phander-sides

@sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet

​

Damien woke up and slowly sat up, wincing when he put pressure on his wrist. He looked down and frowned at the dark bruises forming. He looked over at the perpetrator who was lying right next to him.

What was more unsettling than the bruises was the writing underneath them. God, what Damien wouldn't give to be rid of the writing.

Damien smiled at his boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully as Damien brushed a strand of hair from his face. Damien then stretched his arms before standing to show before classes.

The writing was from his soulmates. And no, his boyfriend wasn't one of them. It should have made him feel guilty, dating someone who wasn't his soulmate. But it didn't.

The writing was his first hint to for finding his soulmates. One received their first hint at fifteen, and being able to see what one's soulmate wrote on their skin was the most common hint. It allowed them to communicate with their soulmate, but there were limits. To encourage them meeting more naturally, information like location or full names wouldn't show up for the other person.

As Damien turned on the hot water, he thought back to the night before his fifteenth birthday and how terrified he had been.

He had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours - trying to fall asleep but sleep refusing to come.

He didn't want a soulmate. He wanted nothing to do with whoever the universe decided to pair him up with. He was fine in his solitude and preferred it stayed that way.

Painfully, time slowly crawled on. Damien eventually admitted he wasn't going to sleep. He glanced at the clock and winced when he read it was two minutes till twelve. So for two agonizing minutes, Damien watched the clock.

The clock struck twelve, and Damien held his breath and waited.

Nothing.

But that didn't help calm Damien's nerves. His soulmate could be asleep. Or maybe he was older than his soulmate and he would have to wait months or years until his soulmate could write back.

He couldn't be certain about his soulmate or lack thereof for a long time.

But with nothing he could do now, exhaustion finally washed over him and he fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Damien grimaced as his alarm blared for school. He hit the snooze button and promised himself "only five more minutes" (it was never just five minutes).

But that's when he noticed an unfamiliar tingling sensation on his arm. He held up his right arm and opened his eyes, and he swore his heart stopped.

Damien had been hoping he was part of the small percentage that didn't have a soulmate, but it turns out he was part of the even smaller percentage to have more than one.

He stared in horror as he watched large, bubbly, light blue handwriting converse with a small, precise, navy handwriting on his right arm.

He didn't go to school that day. He faked sick, and the paleness of his face was enough to trick his foster parents into believing him.

As he watched the writing travel farther down his arm, he almost felt that he was intruding. But he couldn't tear his eyes away. The light blue writing, who referred to themself as P, seemed so kind while L, the navy, seemed so grounded and secure.

Damien hated it.

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be forced into a life with these strangers. He didn't want to force anyone else to deal with him. But he was scared he didn't have a choice.

The thought made him so upset he barely made it to the bathroom before actually getting sick. After it passed, he sat against the wall for a moment before breaking down in tears.

This was too much. Why would the universe make him endure something so painful?

Then and there was when he Damien decided he would do his best to make sure his soulmates never knew he existed. Let them live in ignorant bliss. They'd be better off without him. And the fact that he had two soulmates made the decision easier. They had each other, so he wouldn't be forcing someone to live without a soulmate. They could live their lives happily together.

Damien was extra careful to never mark on his skin. He even went so far as to no longer put on makeup or nail polish. That part was painful. Makeup was his passion, and he been wanting to go to school to practice it. So he convinced his foster sister to let him practice on her sometimes, though those times were few and far between. But beggers couldn't be choosers.

Damien snapped back into the present by his boyfriend banging on the bathroom door and yelling at him to hurry up. Damien yelled back that he'd be out soon.

Jackson was a first. It was a miracle Jackson even tolerated him.

Jackson had approached Damien in one of their classes, and Damien was immediately smitten. No one had taken interest in him before.

Jackson took Damien out that night and Damien swore there was an instant connection.

Jackson didn't have a soulmate and he had assumed Damien didn't either when he accepted Jackson's invitation to go out. Damien hesitantly told him he did, but he wanted nothing to do with them. Jackson was angry at first, but eventually calmed down.

It was generally frowned upon to date someone else when you had a soulmate, but Damien liked Jackson. He got to choose Jackson.

As Damien continued to get ready for classes, he tried to push the thoughts of his soulmates aside. But with his twentieth birthday tomorrow, he couldn't stop worrying. As time goes on without one meeting their soulmate, they will sometimes receive another hint on one of their birthdays. The amount of hints one gets and the time between receiving them depends on the people and when they are destined to meet. Hints will get more and more drastic as the universe grows more and more desparate for them to meet. Once they meet, however, all but the first hint they received will disappear.

Damien didn't know his soulmate's birthdays, but he wasn't worried about getting a hint on their birthdays. They had actually been communicating with each other, so they probably weren't the unviverse's concern.

He was.

Since Damien refused to even acknowledge his soulmates, he was at high risk for a new hint.

Damien knew this. Jackson knew this. They both ignored it.

Damien kissed Jackson goodbye before leaving for school. They didn't leave too far from campus, so Damien usually didn't bother spending money on bus fare.

Damien felt the familiar tingle on his wrist and he pulled his sleeve further down his arm. He always wore long sleeves and pants, even when the heat was unbearable. He didn't want to look at the writing. He didn't want anyone else to see.

But before he covered his wrist, Damien got a glimpse of red handwriting.

Around seven months after Damien's fifteenth birthday, he woke up to the familiar tingling on his arm. P had found out when L woke up and was adamant to wake up before them to write a good morning message everyday. Damien rarely ever read what L and P said to each other, but that morning something caught his eye.

There on his wrist was 'Hello! Am I lucky enough to be able to talk to my soulmate?' in large, messy, red cursive.

"No," Damien had thought. "This can't be happening."

He had three???

'Hello!'  P wrote back.

'It's so wonderful to finally be able to talk to you.'  the red ink wrote. 'I've been waiting for this for so long.'

'Oh my gosh this is incredible!! L, we have another soulmate!!!'

'I see that.'  L wrote. 'This is most unexpected.'

'Am I really so lucky to have two soulmates?'  the red ink wrote.

‘It seems so.’ L replied.

'Since we can't say our names, we refer to each other by the first letter. I'm P and the other is L!'

'I'm R, then. I can't express how ecstatic I am to meet you both.'

Damien yanked his pajama sleeve back down. WHile he could still feel the tingling go further down his arm, it was easier to ignore when he couldn't see it.

He fell back onto his bed, stared at the ceiling, pushed his pillow into his face, and screamed.

Since then it had been even harder tohide the markings on his body. P would doodle on the palms of their hand and R would write out long monologues on one arm while L solved math problems on the other.

The worst was when R and L would start debating and writing would cover every inch of skin they could find until P made them find a middle ground.

Damien snapped himself back to the present as he walked into his biology class. He already hated bio, so no need to make it worse by sulking over his soulmates.

The morning went by slowly and regularly. Afternoon came and Damien texted Jackson to see if he wanted to meet for lunch. Jackson texted back saying he was out with friends but he'd see him tonight.

That was fine. Damien was glad Jackson had such good friends. He just wished this didn't happen so often.

As Damien ate his lunch he noticed that P and the purple writing were drawing on their hands again. Damien rolled his eyes and quickly finished eating before fishing his gloves out of his backpack.

Damien had to buy gloves after the purple handwriting showed up as they loved to doodle on their hands, and P would often join in and make Damien's hands a mess of purple and light blue.

A little more than four months after R made their first appearance, Damien was awake taking off layers and layers of makeup. He had stayed up late (again) to practice.

A couple of weeks ago R said they had to put on a lot of theatrical makeup for a play, and was wondering if it showed up on the others. When L and P confirmed that none did, Damien was ecstatic. He immediately pushed himself away from the dinner table and went up to his bedroom (he was lucky this foster family didn't make him share a room with his foster siblings) to experiment with his makeup again.

Damien glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one in the morning. He wasn't too concerned, though, since it was summer and he could sleep in as long as he wanted.

Once the clock hit one he felt tingling on his arm again. The others were rarely awake this late, so curiousity got the better of him and he glanced down to see what on earth they had to say.

'Hello?'

Damien stopped breathing. That wasn't P. Or L. Or R. This was new handwriting. Tiny but tall letters in purple ink.

Two soulmates was a rarity. Three was unheard of. So what the fuck was he doing with four???

Damien's eyes bored into the mirror as he removed the remaining makeup off his face. He quickly brushed his teeth and changed into pajamas before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Damien woke up late the next morning, but he still felt exhausted. He glanced down at his arms and found them both covered in writing. Damien just knew the rest of his body was covered, and to confirm it felt tingling on his left shin.

He showed with his eyes closed, desperate to avoid looking anymore at the cacophony of foreign handwriting on his skin. But when he opened his eyes to get out, he couldn't ignore the text just covering his body. Smothering him. Yelling at him.

Damien ran into the bedroom and threw clothes on while still soaking wet.

He didn't want to see anything from the purple handwriting. He knew too much about the other strangers already. He didn't want to know anything about this new person. He didn't even want a letter to refer to them by.

Though ignoring the text got harder with four people writing, Damien got good at it, just as the others had gotten good at fitting blocks of text together like tetris pieces.

Back in the present, Damien was getting sick of flashbacks.

When Damien's school day had ended and he was back at the apartment, he sent Jackson a selfie to let him know he was home. Jackson was so protective, he didn't like Damien going anywhere without his permission. One of the ways Jackson proved he loved him.

Not that Damien had any real reference, though.

His mother was abusive and neglectful and his father was never around. He was barraged everyday by words telling him how much of a burden he was. How everything would be easier if he wasn't around. After his mother beat him she'd scream how weak and worthless he was.

School was never any better. He was immediately an outcast. Having very visible vitiligo on his face weirded out the younger kids who didn't know better.

As they got older and his classmates understood what vitiligo was, the damage had already been done. Any second changes his classmates would give him quickly disappeared. He was too mean, too vicious. He was quick to start fights and slow to forgive.

Attempts were made to counsel him and try to find the root of his behavioral problems, but his mother promised him that if he dared snitch about his homelife, he wouldn't see tomorrow.

So counseling attempts were made in vain. He was labelled a problem child and that day forward his teachers were given warnings whenever they were stuck with him in their class.

Child protective services finally took him away in middle school when Damien went to school with bruises around his neck after his mom tried to strangle him in a drunken rage. He was passed from foster family to foster family, never lasting long in one house. He wouldn't get along with his foster siblings. He disobeyed his caretakers. His foster parents didn't knw what to do when he'd wake up screaming, begging for his mom to let go of him. He was too mean. Too troubled. Too distrusting.

By high school he had finally mellowed out, but the damage was irreversible. He understood that he was on his own and it was detrimental to trust anyone too easily. But since he calmed down, he was finally left alone from counselors and teachers. And to everyone's surprise, he managed to excel in his classes, even managing to get a scholarship to a school that let him study theatrical makeup. Even better was that it was out of state, meaning he would never have to see any of the people he grew up with again.

Damien hadn't expected to fall in love, but then he met Jackson. Jackson was the first person to love him. And with him, Damien thought he couldn't be happier.

Damien started to feel a bit anxious as he waited for Jackson to get home. He wanted to ask about his birthday, and either Jackson would agree to spend the weekend with him, or he'd go and get boozed up with friends, leaving Damien to deal with the fallout.

But it was his birthday. Surely Jackson wouldn't leave him alone.

Jackson came home later than expected. He was doing that a lot these days.

"Hi, babe," Damien said as he greeted him at the door. He smiled as Jackson pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey yourself," Jackson muttered against Damien's lips.

They separated for a moment but Jackson pulled Damien right back. Damien's mouth twitched in a small smile.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" Damien asked as Jackson led him back to their shared bedroom.

"Yeah," Jackson replied. "Me and a couple guys are going out of town."

Damien's heart cracked in his chest as he tried to figure out what to say.

"Well, my birthday is this Sunday," Damien said slowly. "I was hoping we could spend it together."

Damien knew that Jackson would usually get angry when he tried to contradict his plans, but he took this chance since there was no way Jackson could get angry about Damien's birthday without coming off as a huge jerk.

"Shit, Damien," Jackson sighed. "I completely forgot."

That didn't bother Damien. Not at all.

"I can't cancel on the guys, but I promise I'll make it up to you," Jackson said as he pulled Damien in for a kiss. "I'll make it up to you every night," he muttered as he moved his lips to Damien's neck.

Damien shuttered. Sex with Damien was rough. Jackson took what he wanted without making sure Damien was okay and that he wanted it as well. He focused on pleasuring only himself, sometimes leaving Damien to finish himself off.

While Damien had a slight sense that this wasn't okay, he ignored it. What did he know? He didn't have experience with this. And he liked feeling needed. He liked feeling wanted.

He ignored the small voice that told him he was just being used.

"Okay," Damien said as Jackson let go of him.

When Damien woke up the next morning, Jackson was gone. He briefly entertained the idea of going out himself, but he knew that Jackson would want regular upates from him along with photos of him by the clock.

So Damien tried to have a lazy day. He made breakfast then watched beauty guru drama on YouTube. He ordered takeout for lunch and ordered extra so he wouldn't have to cook dinner. He practiced makeup again and gave himself a manicure. He went through these tasks trying to act like everything was fine, but inside he was panicking. His panic only grew throughout the day as the hours crawled closer to midnight.

Come eleven that night, Damien was a mess. He paced around his bedroom, trying not to pick at his newly manicured nails. He wanted to call Jackson but knew he would just be mad if he interrupted his night out.

His mind raced about what hints he could get. Ideally he wouldn't get one, but the chances of him not getting hints grew smaller as the years went on. If he had to get one, he hoped it was something similar to the one he had now. One that would be easy to avoid, though he doubed the universe would be so merciful.

Over the last five years, Damien had read up on as many hints as he could find. Feeling each other’s pain would be hard, but not completely undoable. Occasionally feeling each other’s emotions is one he couldn’t avoid. Initials on your wrist, or any tattoo hint, would be dead giveaways. Being able to see and talk to each other in dreams would be the worst, but that’s a last resort one. Surely that wouldn’t happen to him (yet).

The hour before midnight went by too slowly and too quickly at the same time. When midnight finally came he froze and waited. He waited until it was ten past twelve. While there was nothing immediate, that didn’t mean he was off the hook. The hint could still be there, they just hadn’t triggered it yet.

Damien sighed as he turned onto his stomach. He was about to go to sleep when suddenly he knew what his new hint was.

Oh, god, no! He shouldn't be getting this drastic of a hint so soon!

Damien had read about this hint, but it was so rare he didn't even consider it a possibility. This hint allows one to see through their soulmate's eyes for a few moments up to a few minutes. But the universe was always careful, only letting people see moments it thought they needed to see, so they didn't have to worry about their soulmate seeing something embarrassing or pointless.

One was always alerted before the hint was triggered, allowing them to sit down and prepare themself. But it also alerted the person they would be observing, meaning whoever Damien was about to see through was going to know they had another soulmate.

Damien grit his teeth as the world went white. Suddenly he wasn't in his room anymore. He was lying in a bed that wasn't his bed. It was dark, and whoever he was looking through had someone asleep on their right with an arm wrapped around their waist.

The person took a shaky breath.

"Hello," the stranger whispered. There was a moment of silence as someone next to them shifted. They looked over and Damien could see that there was not just on person in bed with them, but three.

The stranger made sure the others were still asleep before carefully getting out of bed. They made their way out the door and quietly shut it behind them. They stumbled in the dark towards the living rom and sat down on the end of the couch, flipping on the table lamp to bask the room in a faint yellow glow.

"My name is Patton," the person whispered as they pulled their legs up onto the couch. "I'm one of your soulmates. It must be your birthday. Happy birthday."

Patton looked down at his lap and started tracing the pattern on his pajama pants.

"I never would have thought I'd have a fourth soulmate," Patton whispered. "But I'm happy."

"You've never written to us. We had no idea you existed."

"That was the point," Damien thought.

"But that's okay. I know about you now."

Damien grit his teeth. Patton shouldn't be so nice about this. Patton needed to be angry! Patton needed to hate him! It would make this whole thing easier if he did.

"I don't understand why you've never written back," Patton whispered as his finger moved down his pants leg. "But I want you to know I'm not angry. I'm confused, and admittedly a bit overwhelmed, but I'm not angry. I want you to know you're safe with us. I don't know what situation you're in, or what you're thinking right now, but you're safe here."

Damien gripped the sheets as he tried to fight back the tears welling in his eyes.

"I wish I knew your name. Do you think after this you could try to write it to me? Maybe since we have a second hint it will let me see your name. You don't have to, but it'd be nice."

Damien knew he woudn't.

"I hope you're not in trouble," Patton sniffled. That's when tears fell and Patton went to wipe his eyes. "I wish I knew how to help you."

Patton took another shaky breath before continuing. "This might sound crazy to you, but I already really care about you. I cared about the others as soon as they first wrote to me. And now I care about you, too."

They both were alerted in their minds that their time "together" would soon be over. Patton sighed.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to tell them. I think it's important they know. But don't worry. I'm sure they'll be as excited as I am. I hope you decide to write to us soon, and I'm looking forward to the next time we get to talk."

Then Damien was back in his bedroom.

He immediately started crying. He grabbed Jackson's pillow and pulled it to his face as his crying turned into messy sobs.

They know. After years of carefully making sure they didn't know about him, he was outed not even by his own choice.

He couldn't breath. He pushed Jackson's pillow away from him and forced himself to sit up. He knew he was having a panic attack. He'd had them before. He just didn't know how to stop it.

He gripped the sheets and tried to force himself to breathe normally, but between the tears still falling down his face and his rapid heartbeat he couldn't get himself to do so.

After a few agonizing minutes, he was finally able to take in a fairly deep breath. After that, breathing just got easier and easier. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall freely as he got his breathing back to normal.

Once his crying devolved into silent tears, Damien laid back down. Exhaustion hit him as he settled under the blankets, desperate for sleep.

He felt tingling on the back of his hand and looked to see that Patton had drawn a heart in his familiar light blue ink.

Damien didn't take his eyes off it until he fell asleep.

(That was chapter 1! Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 is scheduled to be posted tomorrow, Jan 8 2020)

[prettyboyoongs]

The One That Got Away | Min Yoongi

requested! also i just got broken up with and i’m having a really, really hard time and all that’s really helping me is writing and the boys so ): this hits way too close to home

“Would you stop being a little baby and come on? I told you it’ll be good, so just listen to me,” Hoseok huffed, dragging his best friend into the small coffee shop for open mic night. When the boy opened his mouth to complain once again, Hobi rolled his eyes and pushing him gently into the empty booth. “I’ll buy you a coffee, alright? Just hush and listen. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

Yoongi sighed and threw his head back, resting it on the wall behind him. “Fine,” He agreed finally, sitting back up to give his best friend his order (as if he didn’t already know it). Hoseok smiled widely at him, patting him on his shoulder with gratitude as he thanked him. “Don’t mention it.” Yoongi mumbled as he watched his friend walk away to get their drinks.

He looked around, staring at the girl on the stage in front of him. His throat hitched, his mouth became dry, and his heart pounded in his chest. She was beautiful.

He watched her get everything in order for her song- her small arms making sure her guitar was tuned, her jean covered legs stretching to grab at the mic stand and adjust it to her height, her plump lips that were coated in pretty pink lip gloss wrapping around her water bottle as she drank nervously. 

“Here.” Hoseok chimed, hand blocking his view from seeing the girl on the stage. Yoongi blinked, head finally coming out of the clouds as he looked up at his best friend with a small smile, taking the paper cup from his hands. Hobi smiled back, sitting down besides him and taking a look at the stage. “Whoo! Let’s go!” He cheered loudly, making Yoongi’s skin turn pale and eyes widen. 

He looked over at his friend, turning his head quickly to look at the girl. She smiled widely at the two of them, waving a hand at Hoseok. He waved back, mouthing praises to her. She even smiled at Yoongi before she had turned back around to make sure her amp was plugged in correctly. “Yo, who is that?” Yoongi whispered into Hoseok’s ear, his eyes still trained on the girl.

“Y/N L/N,” Hoseok replied calmly, shrugging, “She’s a good friend of mine. That’s why I always come here- to cheer her on. She’s amazing. She’ll only preform if I’m here; she’s a little shy. Great kid though.”

Yoongi nodded and sat back up in the booth, allowing his eyes to trail over her figure. She was wearing bright and unique clothes, her style very much like Hoseok’s. She was stunning.

Before he knew it, she was sitting down on the stool with her electric guitar on her thighs, clearing her throat in the microphone. “Hey, everybody. I hope you’re all doing okay and are staying healthy! I’m, uh, gonna sing you a song I wrote.” 

Her stage presence was amazing. Her voice was raw and strong, the upbeat chords of her guitar almost overpowering the deep and sad lyrics. She ended the song with a nervous giggle and a final string on her electric, earning a bunch of claps and whistles- Hoseok and Yoongi included. She thanked everybody and made her way off the stage with her guitar in hand, skipping towards Hoseok to hug him. “Good job, kiddo! That was so good!” He cheered, rubbing at her back.

“Thanks, Hobi,” She blushed, pulling away and turning to Yoongi with a bright smile and red cheeks. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Yoongi smiled back instantly, looking down at her outstretched hand, gulping before shaking it. His heart raced at the physical contact. “Hey. I’m Yoongi.” She smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “You did great up there, by the way. I mean, the lyrics were a little disheartening but hey.” He joked with a shrug, making Y/N giggle. 

“Thanks,” She replied. Hoseok smiled at the two, and made his way to the counter to buy Y/N a treat for doing so well on stage, his disappearance going unnoticed. “But yeah, no, um, I wrote it after my ex-boyfriend of two years cheated on me, so..” She laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi frowned, apologizing almost instantly. “You don’t deserve that. He sounds like an asshole. And any boy that hurts you is stupid.”

Within a week, you two were going on your first date together. Within two weeks, you were having your first kiss, and before three months came around, you were dating and were the happiest you two had ever been.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Yoongi started paying more attention to work. You started paying more attention to your job and making songs for people. It all happened so fast.

Over the next two years, the two of you learned how to juggle your relationship with your jobs. You made time for each other— except it wasn’t nearly enough time but neither of you cared to realize that.

After the third year, though, your routine started to slip. Mistakes were being made. Dates were being forgotten. Beds were left empty while desk chairs stayed filled. The house soon became sad and lonely, and nobody barely stayed home enough to make it happy again.

Yoongi was particularly good with birthdays and remembering important dates. He was always good to you on your birthdays— they were your favorite day of the year just because he treated you extra well.

You were so excited. You missed Yoongi, and you knew he missed you too. You put on your favorite dress (Yoongi’s too) and did your hair and makeup for the first time since forever, it seemed like. You sat on the couch and waited for your boyfriend to show up, a large smile on your face as you racked your brain about what he could possibly surprise you with this year.

Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. You had watched the sun go down, and even come up as you waited for Yoongi. Your heart was broken. He had never once missed a birthday— let alone yours.

You allowed yourself to slip out a few tears before you finally crawled into bed, staying as far away from his side as possible while your heart ached. You never mentioned it to him; you wanted to see if he realized his mistake. Unfortunately, he never did.

It was days of this— you ignoring him while he just sat back and wondered what he did wrong. One night, he waltzed in drunk off his ass, beer bottle in hand while he screamed something sort of like your name (it was hard to tell through the slurring).

You scrambled out of bed alarmingly, running down the hallway to see if he was okay. You were met with a very Soju-smelling man, standing in front of you with teary red eyes. “I know where this is going. Okay, I know. I’ve known for so long but I’m just so scared to let you go.” Yoongi muttered, making you blink back in surprise.

“Yoongi,” You scoffed slightly. “What are you talk—”

“Us!” Yoongi screamed back. You gulped and took a small step back. “Us, Y/N! I don’t know what the hell I did to make you hate me so much, but you do, and there’s nothing I can do to change that! We’re not the same, Y/N/N. We’re not. We’ve c-changed and if you haven’t realized it then..” He sighed heavily, throwing his arms up.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked down. “You just stopped caring, Yoongs. I haven’t changed— you have. You stopped kissing me goodbye. You stopped sending me flowers on random occasions or when you knew I was having a bad day. You stopped making love to me. You stopped folding my laundry when I stayed up too late with work. You stopped ordering from my favorite restaurant when dinner didn’t go as planned. You forgot my birthday, Yoongi.”

Yoongi stayed silent at your words. He couldn’t move. He was frozen in place and the only thing that could bring him back to reality was the wheels of your suitcase on the hardwood floor. He blinked rapidly at this, dropping his empty Soju bottle onto the floor and rushing after you. “Baby, no. Please don’t do this.”

“I have to,” You sniffled. “I want us to be happy, and I don’t think us being together will give us that.”

It had been weeks since Yoongi had left the house. He would of gotten fired from his job, too, if it hadn’t been for one of his coworkers who backed him up. He hadn’t looked at his phone in about eight days. He stopped sending you long messages when you threatened to block him if he didn’t stop.

He truly didn’t plan on ever leaving his house. He wanted to stay home and suffer. He wanted to cry and drink but Hoseok wasn’t letting that happen.

Now here he was, being dragged inside of a coffee shop that seemed oddly familiar but his mind was so foggy that he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Look, dude, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I really don’t want to be h—” Yoongi sighed.

“I don’t care. Go sit down.” Hoseok ordered, gently pushing him towards the booth they had first sat in years ago. Yoongi groaned and dragged himself towards the seats, his head pounding and his eyes blurry with tears. It had been so normal lately for him to cry randomly, his heart getting heavy randomly while thinking of you. He sat himself down and crossed his arms over his body, keeping his eyes at the ground while he waited for Hobi to come back.

“Here,” Hoseok whispered, shoving the coffee into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi smiled weakly at him and before he could say thank you, familiar strings began to play. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed and his heart dropped to his stomach. He looked up at the stage, which had been changed drastically since he last saw it— only to see you.

You weren’t wearing the bright clothes you were when he first saw you. You were wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, your acoustic guitar keeping you company instead of your electric. You sniffled into the microphone, adjusting the hood ontop of your head so you could see the chords. Yoongi’s mouth went dry.

“I wrote this song when my ex-boyfriend at the time cheated on me,” You spoke weakly, trying desperately to sound strong. Yoongi tried to blink back his tears but it was way too hard. “I moved on, and I fell in love again. This time, he changed— and it hurt me a million times more than being cheated on. So, this is for him. I hope he’s happy with who he is now, because he sure as hell isn’t the man I fell in love with.”

Yoongi went to stand up and leave, pretty sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take anymore. However, Hoseok gripped his shoulder and sat him back harshly. “Listen to her. You did this, so you listen.”

So he did. He listened. He watched. He noticed. He remembered. He broke. He cried. He listened to your raw voice singing the lyrics that now seemed to fit more to your relationship than the one the song was intended for. You didn’t show your strength this time, you showed your weakness. You cried and had to stop a few times before continuing.

Yoongi watched you thank the crowd before rushing off of the stage and towards the women’s room, turning around when Hoseok yelled your name sweetly. Your heart stopped when your eyes met Yoongi’s accidentally, making you shake your head and let out another sob before pushing yourself into the restroom. “You ruined her, Yoongi. I trusted you with her, and you broke her.” Hobi spoke sadly before pushing past his best friend to cater to you.

Yoongi’s heart shattered at his best friend’s words. He ruined you. He broke you. He will never get you back.

[hockeylvr59]

Life Changes Part 3 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all. 

Authors Note: Part 3 of my Biz rewrite. Added about 400 words including a little lowkey flirting so check it out, no major changes but I like to think there’s it’s worth you reading again even if you read the original part 3. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no         Warnings: none      Word Count: 3,707

__________________________________________________________

“Stop looking for happiness in the same place that you lost it.”

It had been two weeks since I left Boston. Two weeks since I found out that my ex had used me by pretending to be mine until it wasn’t convenient anymore and he dumped me to marry his real girlfriend. Two weeks since he broke my heart in two again and left me to pick up the pieces.

To say that I hadn’t been myself was maybe the understatement of the year. Don’t get me wrong, I did my job to the best of my ability, both with the podcast and with my clients, but I kept conversations as brief as I could manage and the easy smile that usually graced my face had completely disappeared. I was eternally exhausted, tossing and turning in my bed every night, the same bed that I’d been with him in, sharing the most intimate pieces of myself.

It had been two weeks from one of the worst days of my life when my phone buzzed causing me to roll over in bed to see who was trying to get in touch with me at almost midnight. The name ‘Paul Bissonnette’ was at the top of a string of text message alerts and sighing softly, I reached for my phone before laying back down to read them.

Hey, you there…

C’mon I know you’re still awake. You’re a self-admitted night owl.

I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you.

Come to Arizona. Leave the crappy cold rainy/snowy weather and come hang out with me in the sunshine.

Please??

I have a spare bedroom.

Reading his messages I sighed softly. Maybe it would be good to get away from my apartment and get some sun. I didn’t have any court dates upcoming or meetings with clients scheduled so there was no real reason I had to stay on the east coast and the weather had really sucked lately. There had been maybe one day of sunshine in the past month and it was on a day that was something like 18 degrees outside.

You sure you want to put up with me, I’m not the most pleasant person to be around lately?

Yes. Get your pretty ass to Scottsdale.

Sighing, I reached for my computer located beside my bed and once it booted up I pulled open my go-to travel site to try and find a flight to the west coast. Tickets weren’t cheap but it wasn’t like I was going to have to pay for a hotel and the more I thought about the suggestion Paul had made, the more I realized that getting away would be good for me. Booking tickets for a week-long trip, I sent the info to Paul before climbing out of bed.

My flight was scheduled to leave at just after 7am the next morning. That meant I needed to be at the airport by 5:30 or so and it was about an hour and a half drive there meaning I needed to leave at 4am. It was already past midnight and I obviously needed to pack so I said goodbye to the possibility of sleeping tonight telling myself that it would be worth it when I reached the warmth of Arizona. Seeing that Paul had yet to respond to me I shot him another text before running my fingers through my hair. 

You’re picking me up, right?

Grabbing my suitcase from my closet, I quickly looked up Arizona’s weather before grabbing clothes to pack into it. It was in the 70’s and 80’s there mid-March so I packed my one and only swimsuit along with shorts, tank tops and t-shirts, adding a pair of jeans, yoga pants and a sweatshirt for going into restaurants or for the cooler evenings. As I finished with my clothing and moved to pack the necessities located in the bathroom, my phone buzzed with a new message.

Damn you’re efficient. See you in the morning. Travel safe.

Once I’d finished packing my suitcase, I worked on preparing my carry-on with all of the files I’d need to work on my current caseload for clients as well as anything I needed for the podcast. It was almost 1:30 in the morning by the time I had my things ready to go and so I switched to getting myself ready. Putting some music on, I slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed again and then settled onto my lounge chair in my living room to watch something random on tv until I needed to leave.

I was tired but actually kind of excited to see a new part of the country because the furthest west I’d ever been was South Dakota. As I drove to the airport I listened to the newest podcast episode, however, the closer I got the more a nauseous feeling came over me and I dug in my bag for peppermints to try and calm my stomach. The nausea had to be from the excitement, lack of sleep, or from not having had much to eat the past few days so I didn’t let it worry me.

After checking my bag and passing through security, I headed to the gate to wait on my flight. I wasn’t there long before I found myself making a mad dash to the bathroom feeling the need to heave even if there wasn’t anything in my stomach to throw up.

On my way back to the gate, I stopped to buy a bottle of water and a muffin, hoping that some hydration and food would help. When I finally boarded, I was still nauseous but thankfully hadn’t thrown up again. Settling onto the plane, I buckled up and then tried to doze off and get at least a little bit of rest during the four-hour flight. By the time I stirred we were only about 20 minutes away, 20 minutes that I prayed passed quickly because the nausea from before was still present and  hadn’t ebbed.

A bumpy landing nearly did me in, but I managed to quell the urge to puke by popping another peppermint and resting my head on my knees. Climbing off the plane, I felt like a zombie making my way to baggage claim. Waiting for me there was the 6’2” Canadian who had convinced me to come here. Taking in my appearance he winced visibly before wrapping his arms around me gently.

“Can you hold this for a minute?” I mumbled offering him my carry on. When he took it, I quickly glanced around for the nearest restroom before speed-walking over. Once inside a stall I finally gave in to the nausea, throwing up the muffin that I forced myself to eat before takeoff. When I returned, I reached for my bag to grab another mint, hoping to hide the smell of vomit.

“You could’ve said you were sick and not come,” Paul assured me, seeing right through my actions as he turned to search for my luggage.

“I didn’t start feeling sick until I was driving to the airport. And I’m fine, my body is just worn down from stress. I’m here to get refreshed and renewed, aren’t I?” Though his expression showed his continued concern, when I pointed to my bag, Paul grabbed it and then returned to my side, placing a hand on my lower back to guide me through the airport to where he was parked.

“Have you slept at all recently?” He asked once I was settled into his car and he was back behind the wheel to take me to his place.

“I napped for the majority of the plane ride.” I insisted, although the yawn leaving my throat gave away that I hadn’t slept much more than that. Instead of responding, Paul just raised an eyebrow at me before turning his attention back to the road. It wasn’t long before we reached his condo and I had to admit that it was beautiful. Of course, the decorations were lacking and it was a total bachelor pad, but the space itself was stunning.

Paul took my things and placed them in his spare room while I was looking around and when he returned he insisted on giving me a proper tour. As I looked outside, Paul pointed out the pool and that the key was right by the door and that I was welcome to use it as much as I wanted. His condo also had a firepit and I was looking forward to spending the evenings there. The smell of fire was one of my favorite scents and that was the kind of relaxation I needed.

Back inside, he pointed out the hall bathroom and where the spare room was before detouring to point to his room and then letting me go settle in.

“Why don’t you rest for a few hours and then maybe we can grab lunch or something?” He suggested. Nodding, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a hug.

“Thanks for insisting I get away and for putting me up. I need this.” After returning my hug and insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, Paul left me to unpack a bit and just relax. After changing from my winter clothes into pajama shorts and a tank, I crawled into bed and within moments crashed from exhaustion.

When I stirred from sleep, it took me a minute to recall where I was. A glance at my phone screen told me that it was almost five o’clock, almost six hours after I’d fallen asleep. Sliding out of bed, I stretched before padding out from the guest bedroom in search of something to drink because my throat was dry from the change in humidity.

By the time I reached the kitchen and was looking for a glass, I heard the patio door open and instead of just directing me to the proper cabinet, Paul was opening the fridge and handing me a bottle of water.

“Sleeping beauty awakes….you feeling better?” Taking a sip of the bottle of water I nodded. My stomach felt much better than it had before and the quality of sleep definitely had me feeling like less of a zombie.

“Yeah, thanks…I didn’t realize a few hours was six though. Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

“You looked like you needed it and you were too peaceful to disturb.” He replied shrugging as he leaned against the counter. “You want to clean up a bit, get dressed and then go get some dinner?”

“Sure.” I agreed, though I didn’t move until I had finished the bottle of water, tossing it into the recycling bin in the corner of the room. Ten minutes later I was dressed in a pair of capris and a cute top, sandals on my feet with a sweater draped over my arm. Quickly I checked my appearance in the mirror before grabbing my phone and wallet so that we could head out.

The car ride to and from dinner was filled with music, Paul letting me choose the radio station in his car. Conversation came easy, talking about our families and hometowns, what experiences had led to where each of us was today. There was something about Paul’s presence that made me feel relaxed, and I never found myself worried about what he was thinking. When we finished dinner I attempted to pay the check but Paul refused to let me anywhere near the bill, insisting that the guys would never let him live it down if they found out he’d let me pay. 

Upon returning to Paul’s place after dinner, we made our way out to the patio and Paul started a fire. The way the flames flickered, almost seemingly to the sound of the music playing softly from a speaker, made me smile and I just snuggled into the lounge chair, having pulled a sweatshirt on for warmth before coming outside.

“So…” Paul’s voice eventually broke the silence and I turned my head to look over at him. “The yotes play tomorrow and I have to work but I was wondering if you wanted to come to the game? I can give you a quick tour and you can just enjoy some hockey where you don’t care about the outcome?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun…I have to get some work done myself tomorrow but I wasn’t really planning on spending the entire day working.” Going to a new NHL arena was always a cool experience and it was certainly a more interesting way to spend my time here than just curled up on Paul’s couch all day. 

“Awesome.”

After that, silence filled the air again but it was comfortable like there wasn’t anything that needed to be said and the two of us could just exist in the same space. Occasionally I’d look over at Paul to find him watching the fire or looking up at what few stars were visible in the Arizona sky. He looked peaceful and his energy left me feeling even more relaxed. After about two hours, we agreed to let the fire burn out and once it had we headed back inside. I was already feeling drowsy when Paul asked if I wanted to watch a movie or something, so I shook my head murmuring that I was going to try and get some sleep and that I’d see him in the morning.

___

When I awoke the next morning it did not come with the pleasant rested feeling of yesterday’s nap, instead, it came with that stomach-twisting feeling that sent me staggering for the bathroom to kneel in front of the toilet. The sound of my puking must have been loud enough to alert Paul because in no time at all he was behind me, holding my hair back as I spilled my guts.

When it seemed like I was finally finished, he handed me a cool washcloth and my toothbrush which he’d already put toothpaste on. Taking both, I ran the washcloth over the back of my neck and then down over my chest all the while working on brushing my teeth to cleanse myself of the taste of vomit.

“You okay?” He asked, face crinkled with concern as he leaned against the doorframe, giving me some space to move around.

“I mean I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus but yeah I’m fine.” Running my fingers through my hair, I looked up at him and sighed. “Stop worrying, I’m fine. It’s just my body’s way of coping with all the stress I’ve put it through finally starting to ebb.” Paul didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything other than asking if I wanted breakfast. When I shook my head he nodded and left the room telling me to come get him if I needed him or changed my mind on food.

Since I’d decided to wait a while for my stomach to settle before eating, I grabbed my computer to sort through work emails and handle some paperwork. Getting lost in my work it was lunchtime before I even looked up, and after finishing what I was working on for the moment, I decided it was time for a break and to try and eat something. I already felt much better than just a few hours ago.

Digging through Paul’s kitchen was a sad affair, the man was definitely a bachelor. Thankfully he had some chicken breasts in the freezer and some fresh vegetables in the produce drawer of his fridge. Pulling out the chicken, I placed it on a plate in the microwave to defrost before pulling out the vegetables to cut after tracking down a cutting board and knife.

Once the chicken was defrosted, I slipped out to the patio to start his grill, throwing the chicken on to start cooking once I’d seasoned it with a spice mix I had found in his cabinets. While the chicken cooked, I plated up the vegetables and washed the dishes I’d used. Fifteen minutes later the chicken was done and I added it to the plates after letting it sit to redistribute the juices.

Paul had worked out earlier but I wasn’t sure where he’d disappeared to while I was working. Padding through the condo, I found him lounging in his bed with the tv playing softly and notes for either the yotes or the podcast surrounding him. Tapping on the doorframe to draw his attention I smiled when he looked up at me.

“Hey…I made lunch if you’re hungry…” Shoving papers to the side he quickly stood up and walked toward me.

“What the hell did you find to make?” He questioned, expression confused but impressed.

“Just grilled up some chicken breasts and cut up some vegetables. Nothing super complex.” It was also something that I hoped would be light enough that my stomach wouldn’t react adversely. Grabbing a plate from the counter, I moved out to the patio, planning on enjoying this weather as much as I could. After all, there was no way I could sit outside to eat back at home.

Paul followed, balancing his plate along with two glasses, gently setting one in front of me before sitting his own food and drink down.

“Just iced tea.” He assured me and I nodded murmuring my thanks. Lunch went down easy and when I was finished I leaned back in my chair just looking out at the great view.

“So what time do we need to leave for the arena?” I questioned, my brain always trying to plan out the next steps of whatever it was I was doing. I had no idea what I was going to wear or where I’d be sitting for the game and it left me slightly uneasy.

“Probably around 4. That way I can give you a quick tour and make sure I have everything ready.” Nodding at his answer, I declared that that sounded good and took his plate when he was finished, slipping back inside to wash them up and put everything from lunch away. Having gotten everything I wanted to get done work-wise accomplished earlier, I moved to grab the book I’d thrown in my bag and settled myself back outside to enjoy some more fresh air.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take that long to get ready, I set an alarm for three pm to stop reading if I hadn’t gotten tired of the book by then. Around 2:45, I heard the patio door open and then quickly shut and before I could turn around or react, a piece of soft fabric was landing in my lap. Picking it up, I chuckled seeing that it was obviously one of Paul’s t-shirts that he’d gotten from the team in his years here.

Grabbing the shirt and my things, I moved back inside, shaking my head as I could hear Paul rattling around in his closet. Stopping in his doorway, I poked my head in.

“Thanks.” I called out and when he entered my vision without a shirt on, I lost my train of thought. 

“Figured I’d save you the mental turmoil over what to wear.” He teased and it was pretty sad that after less than a month he knew me that well already. Ducking my head, I slipped away from the room and back to the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Paul was an attractive man and even someone recovering from heartbreak could see that.

Quickly, I slipped into the pair of jeans I’d brought and after throwing on a black long sleeve t-shirt, I pulled Paul’s shirt on over it. The material was so soft in the way that showed that it was well worn and it definitely had that lingering smell that signaled it belonged to a man. Since I was absolutely swimming in it, I quickly tucked it into my jeans so that it didn’t look quite so baggy.

Now dressed, I grabbed the little bit of makeup I’d brought as well as my curling iron and made my way to the guest bathroom to finish getting ready. My hair would definitely take the longest so while I waited for the curling iron to heat up I quickly did my make up, keeping it simple with just foundation, eyeliner, mascara, blush, and lipstick.

By the time we needed to leave I’d managed to get my hair curled into soft waves and after unplugging the curling iron and grabbing my things, I made my way to the living room to wait on Paul. When he appeared all dressed in his suit, I couldn’t help but tease him about cleaning up nice. In return he lightly commented that I looked hot in his clothes, making me flush slightly as I laughed, enjoying the easy banter between us. 

I’d been to a few different NHL arenas before but I’d never gotten the full tour and so I was sure the wonder showed on my face as Paul showed me around before leading me up to the box where he did the radio broadcast. It was a pretty nice view of the ice and I listened intently as he explained everything. Seeing someone be passionate about what they were doing was always something that got my attention and it seemed like he really had found his niche with all of the media work he was doing.

Sadly the game ended in a loss but I’d had fun all the same, going down to rinkside for warmups where Clayton Keller tossed me a puck after having met me when Paul and I ran into him earlier. Paul had put me into one of the season tickets seats he’d purchased and while I liked the view from above, it was always nicer feeling like I was close to the action in the middle of the crowd.

Arriving back at his condo, I was completely worn out and after hugging Paul goodnight and thanking him again for letting me stay with him and for providing a great night out, I slipped into the guest bedroom and passed out after changing into pajamas.

Chapter 3 Social Media:

[that-writer-who-never-posts]

Little Bear (Part 1/2)

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Hello, remember me?? Sorry this took so long!

This is a big mix of requests by @theoneanna , @blue--broccoli and one annon.

Prompt: You and Tom are friends with benefits, trying really hard not to fall for each other, until a little bear unites you.

warnings: Mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of sex, pregnancy, angst.

Like 5.4k words... oops.

--- 

"I heard a noise coming from the front door and I didn't know if I'd prefer it to be a robber or my boyfriend. It was the 15th time he was coming home drunk that month. And if I tried to complain that he was going out without me and coming back like that... Smelling like booze and other women... He would get agressive. He never laid a finger on me, but I'm sure it was only a matter of time. I ran to the bedroom and laid down, pretended I was sleeping, so he wouldn't do anything to me.

I heard him getting in the bathroom and kept my eyes shut, maybe it would be better if I slept for real, but my heart was racing, I was terrified. It was always the same... He would come home screaming and offending me... but when he got sobber he would treat me like a queen. Well, not all that too, but anything was better than his drunk version.

Time passed and he never come off that bathroom. I was worried. I was actually worried about that monster! I ran there, opened the door and found him on the floor, passed out. So I put him under the shower for him to wake up, dressed him up and put him to bed, all that while he told me about the stripers he spent the night with.

When the morning came, I was stressed. I didn't sleep a second. He did. He was living his best life and I was nothing but a toy, waiting for him to play with. And that's how I made my decision: I was leaving. I was leaving him and I was leaving the country. I didn't have anything but my family keeping me there... I'm a writer, I can work from wherever I am. So I thought I could use a little time in London, it was always my dream to live here. Yes, I had dreams before I met him.

He begged me to stay. I feel nauseous just remembering him begging... He said he loved me, that he was going to change. Lucky me I was stressed, or I would fall for that. I know I would because while I was on my way to England I cried the entire flight. I thought I couldn't make it without him... I wondered who would take care of him.

But now I'm healing. And that's why I won't open my heart again. At least while it's not fixed."

You finally told Tom your story. Or the story about how you ended up in that bed with him. When you arrived in England, you met him by accident. You were walking around the streets lost, and he helped you get to your destiny. After that, you had lunch together. That day, on the next, a few days after. Suddently, the two of you would hang out all the time. At first, you never thought about being more than friends. He was just as heartbroken as you because of his last relationship. But the attraction you felt towards each other was unbearable, so you decided to have casual sex.

It was working pretty well so far. You were grown ups and the situation was perfect: You were great friends who could count on each other for anything... And the sex was also great.

"This... I can't believe this. I don't even know what to say, Y/N." Tom ran his hands through his face. He was angry. "Why didn't you leave earlier?"

"It's not as simple as it seems." You rolled your eyes. "You know what? I shouldn't have told you that. But you insisted. Now forget all this."

"How could I forget that?" He watched you with pain in his eyes. "I can't believe someone did that to you. You deserve nothing but the best."

"Okay, thanks..." You say looking around the bedroom to find your clothes. "But that's enough. We're getting sentimental."

"I can see why you're afraid of getting sentimental now, but..."

"It's not about being afraid." You stood up feeling unconfortable for the first time for being naked in front of him, so you dressed up quickly. "It's about the deal we made."

"The deal didn't mention I couldn't wish you the best." He started getting dressed too. "We're friends, aren't we?"

You forced a smile.

---

You started to avoid Tom after that day. You were ashamed. You came to England to be a strong woman, now you felt weak. Even worse, you felt weak because of a man again, something you promised wouldn't happen.

But as much as you tried, he wouldn't leave you alone. He was in your every thought. He was in your dreams. He was leaving messages 3 times a day asking what happened to you. Who were you trying to fool? He meant more to you than you allowed him to.

Half of you tried to stop yourself, but the next thing you knew was that you texted him "Come over."

You could swear it didn't take 20 minutes for the hotel room's phone ring and and receptionist tell you he was there.

When you opened the door, he came in before you could even see him.

"Hi." You said closing the door and turning around to find Tom looking like a mess.

"Where have you been?" He ignored any greetings.

"Here." You shrugged.

"Why didn't you answer when I called you?" He seemed hurt. "Last time I heard from you was two weeks ago."

"I needed some time." You looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry... I know I was an idiot. I shouldn't have reacted like that after all you told me, but..." He approached you and cupped your face. "But I beg you... Don't disappear like that. I worry about you. I..."

You knew what he was going to say next and you couldn't allow it. So you kissed him before he could. His tense shoulders relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close to kiss you harder. You were too afraid to break the kiss, at least until he forgot what he was going to say. And at the same time, you didn't want to break the kiss... The chemistry you both had was too intense.

Suddently, it was all a fight. Your tongue against his, your hands undressing each other and the war inside your head, wondering if you should continue or tell him to leave.

He laid you down in bed and crawled on top, holding you against the mattress and kissing your naked chest. He seemed more angry and passionate than ever, and you couldn't think straight. At the moment your underwear was replaced by his tongue, you knew there was no way you would want distance from him that soon.

---

Once again you found youself on the only place that felt like home to you in the entire world: laying on his chest as he stroked your hair.

"Tom?" You asked timidly.

"Yes, darling." He smiled at you.

"I know you shouldn't..." You sigh. "But would you mind spending the night?"

Even thought you had been "sleeping with each other", you and Tom had never actually spent the entire night together. Waking up beside a friend would be really awkward. But you felt too fragile that night, if it wasn't for him you would end up doing something stupid.

"Of course." He brought you closer and covered both of you with the blanket.

"Thanks." You snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes.

10 minutes passed. Maybe more, maybe less. You were fully awake, but pretended you were asleep anyway.

"Y/N?" He whispered.

You didn't answer and hoped he couldn't feel your heart beating fast.

"I think I love you."

There it is. He said it.

---

You woke up and it was still dark. You looked at the clock and saw it was only 5am. But you just couldn't go back to sleep. You felt horrible. Physically. Your stomach hurted and you felt nauseous.

You looked at Tom. He looked so beautiful while sleeping... You wished it didn't take you so long to see that. But your stomach interrupted your moment of peace. Out of nothing, you jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

Well, it's not very easy to throw up in silence. But the last thing you wanted was to wake him up. You felt so terrible, you started to worry, not about death itself, but about Tom finding your dead body like that. It would be so humiliating.

Luckly, you started to feel better soon. When you felt you were strong enough to stand up, you walked slowly back to bed. The sun had started to rise and Tom didn't move a finger since you left. You sighed relieved and laid down again.

There was no way you would sleep again. His words were on repeat in your head... "I think I love you." He thought wrong. It was only an after-sex thing. And you weren't even supposed to hear that, he said it because he thought you were sleeping.

"Good morning." Tom's sleepy voice filled the room, making you jump and gasp loudly. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Y/N!"

"It's okay, I just..." You tried to breath deeply. "I didn't notice you were awake."

"I woke up when I felt you laying down again." He explained. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere." You lied. He didn't have to know you were sick, or he would get worried and you wouldn't know peace ever again. "Just needed a sip of water."

He smiled and stretched a bit. You couldn't force yourself to not look at his abs as he did that, and if he caught you, he didn't say anything.

"I have to go now, is that okay?" He stood up and started getting dressed. "I have to work."

"Yeah, it's fine." You forced a smile.

You just hoped he would leave soon, because your stomach started to get weird again.

---

As the days passed, all you thought about was sleeping on the same bed as Tom. How you wanted to do that again... But how could you? All the mornings that followed the one you woke up by his side were the same: Waking up 5am to throw up.

After a week, you decided it was better to see a doctor.

---

"Mrs. Y/N Y/L/N?" The doctor gestured for you to sit down.

It was a long day, full of exams, specially blood tests. Then you just sat there waiting for the results.

"It's what I suspected." The doctor smiled at you. "You're very healthy."

"Then what is making me feel so terrible?" You said impatiently.

"You're pregnant, of course." He handed you the results. "Congratulations!"

---

You were packing your bags when your phone rang. Tom. You wished it was anyone else. But it had to be him... You had to say goodbye, you were leaving England. But that didn't mean you were ready.

"Hey." You answered.

"Hi! I was afraid you would disappear again." He laughed. "Are you busy?"

"Tom..." You held back the tears. "I'm sorry to tell you this on the phone, but I have to go back to my city. It's for... Work."

"I'm on my way." His laugh faded quickly.

"No. Please." You took a deep breath. "Don't make things harder."

"But what do you mean by leaving?" He sighed angrily. "You'll come back as soon as you can, won't you?"

You didn't reply. Your silence was too much for him.

"You know what?" He said. "You're just like all the other girls I've been with. I actually belived you weren't, but..."

"But I wasn't one of your girls." You cut him. "I told you feelings would fuck this up."

"Sorry I can't be as heartless as you." He almost whispered. He wished he could take it back as soon as he said, but it was too late.

You turned the phone off and sat on the floor crying.

---

Looking through the airplane window. How different it was the last time you did that. You arrived hoping you would live a life changing experience, now you were leaving even more heartbroken. Well, you can't say it wasn't life changing... You looked at your belly and shook your head. What would you do now? The test clearly said you were one month pregnant. How did this happen? Of course, you and Tom weren't that careful sometimes, but you would never expect this.

---

You were placing your bags in the guest's bedroom at your best friend's house. You obviously weren't going back to the apartment you shared with your ex.

"Y/N?" She knocked on the door as she walked in.

"Hey!" You forced a smile. "Thanks for letting me stay until I find a place."

"Stay as long as you want." She sat on the bed and gestured for you to sit beside her. "Why did the London adventure end so soon?"

"I fucked up." You sighed. "For real this time."

"Did you almost kill the queen like that episode of the simpsons?" She joked.

"How did you know?" You gasped and laughed. Only her could make you laugh at that moment.

"That would be better than hearing you're here because you missed someone."

"No!" You gave her a disgusted look. She kept waiting for you to explain yourself. "Listen... You have to promise you won't tell this to anyone. At all."

"I'm getting worried... Just say it."

"I..." You realized you didn't say it out loud yet. "I'm pregnant."

"What?!" She stood up and started to walk around the room. "Is it... Is Alex the father?"

"No." You saw her face turning into a mix of relief and confusion. "I've met someone... While I was already in England. He was the sweetest guy ever. We were great friends, but..."

"Wait." She cut you. "If the father is in England, what are you doing here? Did he leave when he found out?"

"He doesn't know."

"You're right. You fucked up." She rolled her eyes. "But you have to tell him."

"I can't tell him." You felt the tears starting. "He can't have this child. He would hate me if he knew..."

"Don't tell me he's married."

"No. He's Tom Hiddleston."

"Y/N. YOU ARE GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS STORY RIGHT NOW. FROM THE VERY START."

---

You told her every detail. From the moment you arrived in London to the moment you arrived at her place.

"Y/N..." She looked at you like you were an idiot. You felt like one. "What you're doing is very wrong. Very. It's not fair... If you don't want to be with Tom, it's okay, but he has the right to know."

If you don't want to be with Tom? Of course you wanted. But what difference would it make? He hated you now. He would want to take your child away from you and you wouldn't allow that.

---

A few hours later, you decided to take a shower. Your friend knew she had to break her promise for your own good. So she got into the room, grabbed your phone and left. When she arrived in her own bedroom, she started to look for Tom's number.

She called once. Twice. No reply. On the 7th, he finally answered.

"Hello?" He said.

"Hi. We don't know each other. I'm Y/B/F/N." She tried not to freak out. "I'm Y/N's friend."

"Is she okay?" All he could think of was that something happened to you and it was all his fault.

"Yes, she is not hurt." She almost melted when she noticed how much you meant to him. "But I have to tell you something. I fear we won't have much time. Listen... Y/N came back because she was scared. She's... Pregnant. And she said you're the father."

The phone was mute for a while.

"Tom?"

"I'm sorry. Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. It's very serious. She doesn't know I'm telling you this."

"I'm booking a flight." He didn't know what he was feeling, he just needed to see you. "Can you please send me your address?"

---

Your friend sent Tom her address and phone number, so they could plan things behind your back. That was the only way, they knew you would disappear again if you found out he was coming.

The problem was that the next flight would be in a month. And he was starting to go crazy. Why did you run away like that? Why would you hide this from him? He always dreamt about being a father. And he loved you. Everything would be perfect, but you left... He decided it was because you didn't like him the same way, which was okay, but he wouldn't allow you to raise that child alone.

Meanwhile, you had been getting texts from your ex. Apparently, he found out you were back, and he would do anything he could to have you back.

One day, you were at the mall alone. You had been pregnant for almost two months, but you didn't actually thought about it until you stopped in front of a baby clothes store. You saw a little bear costume and it brought tears to your eyes. How selfish were you to be so sad about this entire situation while there was a little life starting inside you? You decided that from that moment you would think more about that baby than about yourself.

Of course you got that bear costume, it was the cutest thing ever. But as soon as you left the store, you froze.

Alex was standing on the other side of the corridor. You wanted to run, call the security. But you simply couldn't move. And he started to get closer.

"Y/N?" He said and you shivered. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Don't." You almost whispered.

"Don't be afraid." He said, but still kept some distance. "I changed. For you."

"I don't care." You looked at the floor and tried not to cry.

"What were you doing in that store?"

"That's none of your bussiness."

"Let's talk, please." He insisted. "Are you pregnant, Y/N? I saw you standing there stroking your belly."

You didn't say anything.

"I know your belly is quite small for this child to be mine." He continued. "Are you with someone else?"

"Please, leave me alone."

"I'm just saying that I don't care. I will be anything you need. Even a father for your baby." He started to get closer and gestured to grab your hand.

"Stay away from her." You heard a male voice behind you. At first, you thought it was the police, but then you realized you knew that voice.

When you turned around and saw Tom standing beside your best friend you thought it was all a crazy dream and you would wake up at any moment.

"I'm just trying to have a conversation here." Alex rolled his eyes. "Who are you by the way? Her new boyfriend?"

"No." You couldn't even look at Tom.

"Alright." Alex said smirking at the awkwardness between you and Tom. "Think about what I said, my love. You still have my number."

After saying that, he turned his back to you and walked away. So what? Was he playing the nice guy now? Well, you had a bigger problem to solve now. Standing right beside you.

"Tom?" You faced him for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry." Your best friend started before he could say anything. "I brought him here."

"I think we need to talk, Y/N." Tom added.

---

Your friend said she would stay a little longer at the mall so you and Tom would have the house just for you to talk in peace. It was an awkward way back.

You both entered and sat on the sofa, facing each other until one of you decided to speak.

"You don't seem happy to see me here." He joked.

"You didn't seem happy at all when I left."

"Because you left. I wasn't ready for that."

"I assume Y/B/F/N told you why I did."

"Yes. But I want to hear it from you."

"Tom..." You took a deep breath. "I want you to know that I didn't plan any of this. I'm sorry this happened, none of us was ready, but it did. Now we're going to have a baby."

You looked at his face expecting anger. Screams. Expecting him to become Alex and curse you. But no... His eyes were sparkling. He had a huge smile on.

"Can I hug you?" He said and you just nodded.

He brought you closer and held you tightly. So tightly. It reminded you why he made you so confused... You were scared to fall in love with him, but when he held you like that you were safe. His hand traveled from your back to your belly and you both looked at it.

"I know we were not ready for this." He said. "But I'm very happy."

---

A few days later, Tom convinced you to go back to England with him. More than that: he convinced you to spend a few days at his house. You tried to tell him the baby would still take more than 6 months to be born, but he was acting like it would be at any moment.

"This is your bedroom." He opened the door for you. "It's really yours, you should feel at home."

"Thank you very much."

"Now you have to meet someone." He smiled and grabbed your hand, taking you to his backyard. "This is Bobby."

"OH MY GOD!" You almost screamed as the dog runned to you. "Why didn't you tell me you had a dog??? I would have moved in ages ago! Hello, little one!"

"I may be a little jealous right now." He smiled as he watched you playing with his little friend on the floor.

"Sorry, Tom." You winked at him. "But he is the cutest guy in the house."

---

"THOMAS!" You tried to catch your breath, but you were laughing too hard. "IT TICKLES!"

"It's part of the story, there's nothing I can do."

Tom enjoyed telling stories to your belly. Even if the baby was too small to listen yet. You and him always made different voices and he insisted on touching your belly a lot, at first he said it was to get in contact with the baby, but you were starting to think he actually enjoyed making you laugh.

And that way, a few days easily became one month living with him. And it was honestly the best month of your life. But you never did anything intimate again. Not even a kiss. Maybe some cuddles on the sofa... You just couldn't ruin your relationship now, your baby needed a healthy place to grow.

One day, you were watching tv and you noticed he was a little nervous.

"Y/N..." He said timidly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." You smiled at him.

"I'm going to visit my family on the weekend." He started. "And they don't know about the baby yet, I wanted to tell them face to face. I also wanted you to go with me, so they can meet you."

You wanted to say no. You shivered only by the thought of it. But it was obvious they had to meet you. And after all Tom was doing for you, you owed him.

"Of course." You tried to look calm.

"Thank you." He relaxed and smiled like an excited child. "That means so much to me."

---

When the weekend arrived, you wanted to give up. You were going to spend three entire days at his mom's house... How would you explain to them you were just friends but you were expecting his child? It would be awkward, you knew that.

Tom parked in front of the house and helped you with your bags. It was a very beautiful place, but very simple. Had a family vibe, which made you smile.

"Ready?" When you nodded, he knocked on the door.

His mom opened it in less than ten seconds, with a huge smile on and hugged Tom tightly. When she finally let him breath, her eyes landed on you and you forced a smile.

"You must be Y/N." She approached to hug you the same way she did with her son. It was adorable, considering it was the first time she saw you.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hiddleston." You hugged her back.

"Just call me Diana, darling." She held your arm and brought you inside the house. "Now come in and feel at home."

You and Tom exchanged looks. You loved her already. When you entered the living room, you found two blonde girls sitting there. They stood up when you walked in.

"Tom!" They said almost at the same time and hugged him as well.

After a few minutes talking between them, Tom made a gesture with his head for you to approach.

"Y/N, these are my sisters." He said, but the girls seemed a lot less impressed than his mom. "Sarah and Emma."

"Hi." You smiled anyway.

"Nice to meet you." The youngest one said and the other just smiled politely.

"Sit down, darling." Diana interrupted the awkward situation. "I made some tea. Let's drink now, you can put your things on the bedroom later, otherwise it will get cold. Why don't you enjoy the opportunity to tell us the news, Tom?"

"Alright." He blushed and sat beside you, trying to decide if he should hold your hand. Probably not, it would give them the wrong idea. "So, Y/N is probably my best friend right now."

You gave him the sweetest look. His mom looked at the two of you with a little fangirl smile.

"She doesn't have anyone else in England." He continued. "So she's been living with me."

"And I'm extremely thankful for that." You added.

"Did you come to England for work?" Sarah asked.

"At first I didn't." You admited, not wanting to tell them the actual reason at that moment. "But I'm a writer and London is quite inspiring."

"A writer?" Emma asked. "That's nice."

"Yes, I love what I do."

After answering a few more questions by his sisters and drinking your tea, you felt like you were doing pretty well. Of course, the main subject didn't come up yet.

"Now let her breath. She must be tired of so many questions!" Tom's mom joked.

"It's okay." You laughed.

"We just wanted to get to know her better." Sarah said honestly. "Remember the last time Tom brought a girl to meet his family? It was a public disaster."

"Let's not talk about that." He rolled his eyes.

"Yes... I mean..." You tried not to be rude. "We don't have anything going on here, we're really just good friends."

"Actually." He sighed. "We do have something. Which we came here to tell you."

Everyone looked at you and the silence in the room was unbearable. You nodded at him.

"We're having a baby." He said at once.

You didn't have the guts to look at anyone, but the situation went pretty wild after that.

"Didn't you say 'just friends'?" Emma chocked.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Thomas?" Sarah almost screamed and it scared you.

"Honey, come with me." His mom called you with a little smile like there was nothing happening.

She guided you to the kitchen, but you still could hear the discussion.

"How long do you know this girl?" Sarah continued. "Didn't you know they do that? They have kids with famous people to steal their money."

"How long do YOU know her?" Tom spoke for the first time and you never heard him so angry. "You can't just assume that."

"I'll be right back, okay?" Diana stroked your back and went back to the living room.

You nodded weakly. As soon as she left, you started to cry. You knew that would happen... They hate you. What if they hate your innocent baby too?

"Tom, you really fucked up." Emma said, she was clearly the most calm of the three of them. "What are you going to do now?"

"You obviously have to sign a contract, you have to help the child, not her." Sarah answered.

"And who said she ever asked me anything?" Tom replied.

"Isn't she living at your house for free?" Sarah continued. "What if she decides to stay for years. What is going to happen when you want to date again? How is your partner going to feel about a woman living with you?"

You didn't even heard his reply. Her words made you realize one thing... Of course Tom would be part of your life forever now. Which meant you would have to see him finding someone else. Getting married. His wife will be friends with your child. You will have to see him having a happy family and you won't be a part of it.

"Enough." His mother said and everyone became quiet. So quiet, you had to cover your mouth with your hand, so they wouldn't hear you sobbing. "Can't you see that your brother is happy?"

No one replied, but you heard someone sigh annoyed.

"You're ignoring the most important part of all this. Our family was blessed and now there's a child about to arrive." She continued. "I know that we were all caught off guard, but I'm sure my son knows what's best for his life. I don't know if that girl has bad intentions, but until she proves me she does, I will treat her like part of my family, since she's carrying my grandchild."

"I'm just saying you should watch your back, Tom." Sarah said.

"Thank you for being so worried about me." He replied sarcastically and left the room.

As you realized he was approaching, you tried to dry your eyes and take a deep breath, but it was too late. Anyone could tell you were crying.

"Come with me." He told you.

---

You followed him upstairs.

"I'm sorry about my sisters." He said embarrased.

"It's fine, they have a point." You admited. "But are you sure it's okay for me to stay here?"

"Of course it is." He sighed. "My mom would be heartbroken if you left. So would I."

You gave him a quick smile as you stopped in front of a closed door.

"This is my old bedroom." He said a little more excited.

He opened the door and you found a really cozy place. Not very different from his house, and you loved how simple his things were.

"It's very cute." You smiled.

"We will sleep here, if you don't mind." He explained. "You'll have the bed and I'll bring a mattress for me."

"Wow." You smirked. "Being pregnant sure have it's perks."

"True. Enjoy while you can." He laughed. "I'm going to get our bags downstairs, don't run away."

When he left, you sat down and looked at your phone for the first time in a while. There was a message from Alex.

*I heard you left again. Didn't you think about what I told you? Think about it now. I will go wherever I have to so I can see you again. I love you, Y/N. Please, forgive me.*

If you saw that message an hour ago, you would have blocked him. But now... Now you realized something new: you would never be happy with a man. Tom was the closest to perfection you knew, and it still didn't work, you couldn't save what was lost between you. Soon, Tom would find someone who will be able to love him like he deserves, but what about you? Alone forever? At least you knew Alex loved you, on his own way, but he did. And what if he really changed?

---

        You spent the rest of the night in the bedroom. You said you didn't feel well, but everyone knew it was better to let people calm down before you tried to do another friendly introduction.

          But Tom spent the night downstairs with the others and everyone seemed fine, you thought you heard laughs at some points. You enjoyed he was away to talk to Alex. Part of you hated yourself for that, but the other part was still trying to convince you it would be better like this.

          After you exposed your conditions, and they weren't only a few, you accepted to give him a second chance. You even told him you would think about marrying him, as he asked while you were still together.

---

Taglist: (Let me know if I forgot you)

@spidey-holland7

@theoneanna

@inlovewith3

@too-cold-for-youhere

@princetale

@drakesfiance

@kcd15

@hiddlestylesbaby

@yzssie

@crescent-night

@thepowerofawkwardcompelsyou

@hiddlesbitch1

@schizophrenicstoryteller

@damyzzzzz

@scorpionchild81

@pxrrishly

[myhockeyworld87]

Star Light - Tyson Barrie

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2176

Notes: Thought I’d share this piece I wrote for one of my friends. Inspired by Post Malone - Goodbyes. 

READER’S POV

 It was dark, but the sparse surrounding made it easy to move around. Picking up the piece of clothing off the floor, you discovered it wasn’t yours, but Tyson’s. Bringing it to your face you inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent one last time. You were no good at this; which is why you were sneaking out before the break of dawn. Dropping the garment, you collected yours; quietly putting them on. Grabbing your purse, you rummaged through it, finally finding the envelope you wanted. Stealthily you made your way back to the bed. Your eyes had finally adjusted to the dim light, and now you could see him resting peacefully. He looked so sweet in slumber; that it took every ounce of strength you had not to crawl back into bed with him. Dropping the envelope on the bare nightstand; you placed a gentle kiss on his head. One lonely tear falling from your eye as you made your way out the door.

 It wasn’t until you reached your car, did you open the floodgates and let them all flow. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. If someone would’ve asked you six months ago where you saw your life going; you’d have easily said you’d be right here by Tyson’s side in Denver. That was until your whole world came crashing down; the day he got traded to Toronto. You had always known that there was a chance; that at some point in his career this could happen. That it would come a little over a year in your relationship is what threw you. It was always your assumption that when it did happen, the two of you would be married, taking any decisions that needed to be made out of both your hands; however, both fate and the NHL were cruel.

Of course, you were there the day the call came in; saw the heartbreak written all over his face. You didn’t need to hear the words to know what had transpired. Tears streamed down both your faces; and for twenty-four hours neither of you spoke about it, wishing you’d wake up and find that this was all some nightmare. When reality set in, you waited for him to say something; hoping that he would ask you to go with him; he never did.

 Finally, when you couldn’t take the silence anymore, you voiced your concerns; remembering it like it was yesterday. “Tys, what does this mean for us?”

 When he didn’t answer right away, you wondered if he heard you; but finally, he spoke. A quiet response, barely a whisper. “I don’t know.”

 That was the moment you knew you’d lost him. If he didn’t ask you then, he never would. When he didn’t say anything more, you grabbed your bag and ran out the door. He tried to call you, as you drove aimlessly around for hours; you never answered. Eventually you landed back at your townhouse, exhausted; could tell he’d been there from the way things were rearranged. It didn’t really surprise you that he came there looking for you; you’d each had keys to the others home. You prayed he wasn’t still there; you weren’t ready for the confrontation.

 A note lay on the kitchen counter; it simply stated. “Call me – Tys” Crawling into bed, you let your mind go blank; grateful when sleep finally took you. Half of you expected him to be there when you woke; he wasn’t.  Ultimately, you headed over to his place; ready to see where things would go. He was on the phone when you arrived, making plans; plans that didn’t involve you. So, you slid his key off your chain, setting it on the island; then moved to where his were, taking yours back. It was inevitable after all, so why not avoid the pain that it would cause.

 When he finally hung up and looked at you; the look on your face told you everything you needed to know. It was over. He swore you could work through the distance; maybe you could, but you’d never know. After hours of discussing things, it was finally over; the only thing left was to say the words. “I’m no good at this Tys.” Those were the ones out of your mouth first.

 “You think I am (Y/N).”

 “So, then we won’t say it.” He nodded, arms reaching out to hold you. You went directly into them, for what you thought was the last time; then wordless left. The two of you kept in touch, text messages here and there; maybe a phone call now and then. It was hard to completely let go; which is how you found yourself in his bed. He had text, told you he’d be back in town for the move; that he wanted to see you wasn’t a surprise.

 The two of you had met up for dinner; you talked and laughed, it was just like old times. So, when you walked back to your car, it was only natural that you two started making out. And when he suggested that you go back to his place, one last time; there wasn’t even a choice. It had been everything. Sweaty limbs entangled, moans filling the air, kisses that you didn’t want to end; but most of all loving embraces. Yet still no promises were spoken; which is why you were alone now, heading back to your empty bed, to live a life that wouldn’t have Tyson in it.

  TYSON’S POV

 Why hadn’t you asked her to go with you? It was the first thing that popped into your head when you saw her tonight. She looked amazing, but then she always did. Which is why you couldn’t help yourself, and brought her back to your house, and to your bed. Thoughts of the last few hours filled your brain. You’d poured everything you had into your love making with her; letting your body tell her what your brain wouldn’t say. That you wanted her, needed her, couldn’t see life without her. Now, she was gone though; leaving you alone and aching.

 As the light of dawn filter through the windows, you saw it; an envelope with your name etched across the front. Slowly, as if it would disappear if you moved suddenly; you reached for it. Breaking the seal, you saw two sheets of paper; one covered in (Y/N)’s neat handwriting, the other more formal.

 Tys,

 I told you before I couldn’t say goodbye, truth is I still don’t know how. That’s why I’m writing you this. I want to tell you first and foremost, how much I love you; but more importantly how proud I am of you. I know that you’ll do great things in Toronto and with the Leafs. Hopefully, you’ll be able to achieve everything you’ve dreamed of there; I wish I could be there to see it. Know that I will be rooting for every goal you make, every point you score and cheering you on from afar. Though I’ll always be an Avs fan to the core; I’ll forever be a Tyson Barrie fan.

 Enclosed you’ll find another paper along with this letter. Though I know it’s corny I still did it anyhow. I bought a star and named it after us, The Tyson (Y/N) star. This way whenever either of us needs to feel close to the other, we can look to the sky and know that the other is looking down and watching. Hopefully the lights in Toronto won’t be so bright that you can’t see it. So, shine bright my sweet Tys, for I will be looking clear over in Denver for that star that is you.

 You’ve made the last year of my life, so amazing; and I am so blessed to have been your girlfriend even for that short time. I hope you find happiness Tys, and though it pains me, I hope you find a love that lasts to the ends of time. You’re this amazing, caring and loving person and you deserve someone who will give that all back to you. I only wish it could’ve been me.

 I guess Post Malone had it best in his new song when he said, “there’s no way I can save you cause I need to be saved to, I’m no good at goodbyes.” I wish I could be that person you call when your down or you want to share exciting news with, but I can’t Tys, not right now; maybe someday, but not now. It hurts too much, and I just don’t know if I can be there for you, when I don’t even know how to be there for myself right now. So, please don’t call me or text me; at least not right away. I need time, but know I love you. I love you so much, that I can let you go. Please do the same for me. Take care of yourself Tyson and do great things.

 All My Love

(Y/N)

 The letter fell from your hands, and with it your heart. She let you go, you weren’t prepared to do the same. Just like you needed air to breath, you needed this woman in your life. There would be no looking at the stars if she wasn’t by your side; for without her, everyday would be cloudy. You’d been wrong to not ask her to go with you. These last few weeks had proved that. The days were horrible without her; so, you put everything into training. Nights were worse, which is why you started calling her again; had to see her when you were here. Yet still you didn’t say the damn words. What the hell were you afraid of? She’d all but said in her letter that she wanted you to ask her to move to Toronto with you; though she’d never say the words themselves. Part of you was afraid she wouldn’t go. She had a great job, family, friends all here in Denver. How could you ask her to give that all up, for you? The other part of you was fearful you wouldn’t be enough. All you knew right now in this moment, was that you didn’t want to do it without her.

 So you got up, threw some clothes on, and headed out the door. You were half afraid she wouldn’t be home, but her car was in the drive. Knocking on the door, you called out; “(Y/N)…(Y/N)…open the door babe.” When she didn’t you continued; “we need to talk…please just open the door.”

 You hear her on the opposite side of the door, yet she didn’t open it. Instead she said, “Please, just go Tys. I can’t do this.”

 She was crying, you could hear it in her voice. “Just open the damn door (Y/N).” Begging you added, “please baby…I’m not leaving until you do. I don’t care if it takes a day, a week or a year.” Finally, the door cracked open; sweeping inside, you weren’t going to give her a chance to close it. You tried to reached for her, but she side stepped you; moving out of your grasp. She folded her arms across her chest; protecting herself from any words you would speak. You blew out a long breath. “I read your letter.”

 “Then why are you here, Tys. I asked for some space.”

 “I can’t give you that, (Y/N). I love you; I can’t let you go.” She didn’t say anything, just shed more tears. “I’m an idiot, (Y/N). The moment I got the call, I should’ve asked you to go with me; I don’t know why I didn’t. I can only say that I was afraid you wouldn’t go. It’s a lot to ask, you’d be giving up friends, family and a great job; all for me. But I should’ve at least asked. I should’ve let you make that choice, instead of not giving you one at all.” You started to pace back and forth. “I was a fool, that’s my only excuse; but I’m here now. I’m asking you now, please babe, come to Toronto with me. We can build a life together, just the two of us. I know it’ll be hard, and there will be times when I’m on the road for long periods of time. But I can fly you home then, or we’ll work something out. I just know that I don’t want to do this without you by my side. Say you’ll come with me?”

 She still didn’t speak; moving towards her, you ran your hands up and down her arms. Eyes staring into hers. A slight smile finally played across her lips. “Yes, Tys! Yes I’ll go with you.” Crushing her mouth to yours, you kissed her, pouring all your love into it. She startled you when she pulled back abruptly. “Ugh, now that star seems super corny.”

 You chuckled at her remark. “No babe, the star is perfect. It shines bright, just like our love is going to.”