#rubbing and cupping and staring in horror as it lifts and stretches their shirt as it grows

[riotgirl21]

Kisses with Haikyuu boys- Part 3

Bokuto is by far my favourite boi in the series . This was fun to write... plus wishful thinking ya know. His is also a bit naughty (thigh riding) but Daichi is pure fluff.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Bokuto

"Kisses?"

You stifled a giggle as your cute boyfriend's grey head flopped on to your lap as you did some work. You had a deadline to meet and bought it home to finish in time, it had been going okay until he had came home. Usually he would leave you alone and let you get on with it, but he had been away for a week at training camp and was missing you something fierce. The video calls every night hadn't been enough, he missed your sweet voice and cuddles. Missed the way you made him breakfast every morning and gave him a massage when he was in pain. He especially missed your cooking and the way your scent washed over his clothes.

"Puppyyyyyyyyyy... I want kisses."

"Kou-"

"One kiss then I'll start on dinner. I promise."

Putting your pen down, you glanced down to see a huge pout on his face. His bottom lip jutted out, hair flopped down as he stared at you. He was in a vest and some joggers, hands crossed over his chest, arms bulging as he stared you down. You couldn't help but smile a bit as he propped himself up, planting a small kiss on your cheek before rubbing his nose against it.

"One kiss, then I need to do work."

Bokuto leaned up and kissed your lips hard, a loud smacking noise erupting that made you laugh before you swatted him away. His eyes full of glee and mischief as he bounced away screaming about the dinner he was making, leaving you laughing and only slightly concerned for safety of your kitchen.

A few hours later, a familiar grey head popped around the side of the door and called your name. Glancing up, you could see his vest now covered in stains despite the apron you had bought him, moving up his body you couldn't help but laugh when you saw his hair tied into pigtails. His face full of glee as his lips curled up into a familiar playful grin.

"Kou, what happened?"

"My hair was in my face. And I didn't wanna get hair in the food."

Putting your books and papers to one side, you padded over to him and poked one with your finger, laughing again when it bounced around. You shook your head as he pulled you close, ignoring your yelp as your clean hoodie pressed against his dirty vest. His lips millimetres away from yours, rubbing his nose against yours cutely.

"Payment please."

"For what?!"

"For dinner. I demand payment in kisses."

This again.

"Kou-"

"Payment... or there will be a punishment." His eyebrows waggled, holding you tight as you tried to move past him. Easier said than done, since your boyfriend was huge in every way and often used it against you to pick you up and spin you around.

Huffing, you pressed your lips against his quickly, mimicking the one he got earlier only for him to pick you up by putting his hands under your ass. Spinning you around, Bokuto pressed your back against the door as he devoured your mouth. Groaning when your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging the pigtails free and running your fingers through the thick strands. His hips pressed against yours as he pinned you, his thick thigh pressing between your legs as he held your hips and ground your down. You felt rather than heard his laugh when you whimpered, the angle hitting right against your clit in an amazing way.

You couldn't help but moan when his fingers pressed into your ass, holding a cheek in each hand as he forced you to ride his thigh. Whimpers and gasps leaving your mouth only to be swallowed by him, tongue licking and flicking against yours only for him to pull away quickly, ignoring your whine when you tried to chase his mouth.

"Eat dinner, puppy." His mouth pressed against your ears before he kissed a sensitive spot on your neck. "Then if you're good, maybe I'll eat you."

Daichi

You weren't even sure how you ended up in this situation. Seriously. Who would have thought a walk down to the supermarket would have ended up like this. One second, you're stepping onto the road to cross over towards the car park, the next a car had come plowing around the corner leaving you mere centimetres to jump out the way. The impact had caused you to land on your arms and hip.

Some nice passerby had seen what happened and had called the ambulance. Even going as far to accompany you and wait outside while you got checked out. Since Daichi was on shift you were 90% sure that he wouldn't find out and you'd be able to get home without him realising. The injuries on the other hand... you weren't sure how you were going to explain them.

"Where is she?"

Oh damn.

"Can someone tell me where my wife is? She's this tall and has-"

You dropped your head back on the pillow as the conversation halted, you imagined him freaking outside and trying to maintain his composure while being angry as hell. The door creaked open and you were greeted by your uniform-clad husband, dark hair matted to his head and sweat making his face shiny. His usual calm demeanor was almost frantic as he rushed towards you and patted you down, a little too hard.

"Daichi... Daichi... ow!"

"Sorry. Sorry." A hand cupped your face as his lips touched your forehead. "I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

"Mostly."

"Liar."

A sigh left your lips, taking inventory of how you were, you actually felt like crap. Your hip was bruised, wrist sprained and your had scrapes and grazes down your legs. You had a brace on your wrist and painkillers but they had only taken the edge off, there was still a dull ache all over your body.

"Fine. It hurts like a bitch. Happy?"

Daichi peered down at you, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. His hair messy compared to this morning, lips turned down into a frown as he thumbed your cheek.

"Why would I be happy?"

A sigh before he lifted you up bridal style, ignoring your please and screams to put you down as he carried you to his car. The drive home had you burying your head in embarrassment, your lovely husband had decided to put the siren on because 'getting you home was an emergency'. You dare not think what would happen if the chief found out, even Daichi paled a little at that.

Placing you gently on the bed, Daichi quickly stripped off his uniform. Placing his belt on the dressed before untucking his shirt and vest. Looking up only when you made a noise.

"You in pain, baby?"

"Yes I'm in pain."

Suddenly you found yourself being patted down. "Where? Shall we go back? Do you need pain meds?"

"No. I'm in pain because my husband is doing a strip show!"

"Oh."

Removing the rest of his gear, Daichi pulled on some shorts and lay down next to you. Long body stretching out against yours, his hands tracing the marks and bruises where you had been injured. The warmth of his skin against yours, his long legs intertwined while he wrapped an arm around your body as he thumbed each one. His brows furrowed as he palmed your body, hands light as his fingers traced the edges of your clothes.

"Baby, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

"Daichi-"

Sitting up, he began placing small, light kisses on each mark. His lips gentle, fleeting kisses as he lovingly handled your sore body. Leaning his head against your stomach, he listened to your heartbeat thumping against your ribcage, alive and loud. Cementing your presence in his arms, his bed and his life, the fear of losing you all too raw. He remembered the feeling, the horror when he heard about your accident. The way his stomach dropped, the sick feeling as he rushed to the hospital... he never wanted to feel that way again.

"I can't lose you."

You felt a lump in your throat as you looked down at him, suddenly looking so small like this. Stroking the back of his head, you pulled him up until he was eye level with you, kissing his lips slowly, small pecks to show your appreciation.

"I can't lose you either, Daichi."

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Reader: New Life

WARNING: contains language and mentions of prostitution.

This takes place in the Underground.

Being a teenager wasn't easy, especially if they lived in the Underground City where you had to fight to survive. Literally. Levi huffed as he wiped the blood off his cheek from beating another man to tried to talk shit about his late mom. As he turned down into an alleyway, a few men were seen hovering around something as they talked as he got closer, he could hear their conversation and decided to hide behind a barrel to eavesdrop.

"Think we should sell this little girl in the black market to pay for our next meal?"

"Nah, we should teach her a lesson for stealing from us" he partner said as his knuckles were cracked in the process, ready to beat the shit out of the girl they had cornered.

"You pigs didn't need all that food since you're already fat enough!" the girl yelled as she tried to stay brave.

"You little bitch!" the man yelled as he raised his fist as it made contact to her cheek.

The girl fell to the ground due to the force as she held her cheek in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes but refused to let them fall. She shakily got back up to her feet and glared at the men in front of her. "Y-You punch like an old lady! That didn't hurt at all! You're weak!"

"This kid just doesn't know when to stay down. Very well, you'll get what you asked for" the man growled as he went to punch the girl again.

She just stood there, waiting for the impact but it never came as a knife had been thrown into the man's head, killing him on the spot. His body collapsed onto the ground while his partner's throat was slit open by another blade. She watched in horror as blood splattered all over her clothes and face. Backing up to the worn down wall, her legs gave out as she slid to the ground, terrified of the bloodbath she had just witnessed. The person's shadow came closer to her shaking form before it appeared under the streetlight.

"You ok, kid?" Levi asked.

All she could respond with was a nod.

"So, you stole their food?"

"Th-they had a mountain of food on their plates....and I haven't eaten in days...." she whimpered as she held her hollow stomach.

At that, Levi finally got a good look at her form. She looked no older than ten. Her frame was all boney and sick looking, her ribs were probably showing under that oversized tattered shirt, hair all matted, dirty and probably overgrown. He looked just like he did before Kenny had found him after his mother died. He couldn't let her suffer the way he almost did, and based on her appearance, she doesn't have any parents either. With a small sigh, Levi knelt to her level on the ground and offered a hand.

"Come with me. I'll help you get your strength back but you gotta help clean and help me hunt when you do, ok?"

She stared at his hand before shakily reaching her own boney hand out to take it. Once she did, Levi helped her onto his back and started to carry her back to his place.

"You have a name?" he asked.

"(Y-Y/n)....it's just (Y/n)..." she whispered tiredly.

"(Y/n), huh? I'm Levi. Go ahead and sleep, it'll take a bit to get home."

'A home...? Sounds nice....' (Y/n) thought before she drifted to sleep.

Levi glanced back at her sleeping form before sneaking into alleys and back roads to keep out of sight, wondering what his life will be like now that he has a partner to survive with,

~Several Years Later~

Years have passed and Levi and (Y/n) have done well surviving the hell hole they live in. The constant struggles of earning money, stealing food when they couldn't afford any, kicking other thug's asses. It's hard, yes, but they have each other's backs and company when all felt wrong. Levi comes in the house and finds (Y/n) asleep on the loveseat with her legs hanging over the armrest. Lately, he's noticed how tired and sore she'll be during the day and how she would go earn money at night. One day, she went to bend over to pick up a cup that she accidently dropped but had hissed in pain while placing a hand at her lower back. Going to help and ask what was wrong, she waved at him saying she had lifted too many crates for an old man. Levi knew she saw lying since her lips always moved when she does but didn't say anything else.

Walking over to her, he shook her shoulder. "Oi. (Y/n). Wake up, lazy brat."

(E/c) eyes fluttered open as a yawn escaped her mouth. She stretched her stiff limbs before sitting up and rubbing her neck "Do you have to call me lazy everytime I take a nap?" she mumbled.

"Yes, I do. Now get up. I brought food and it's your night to cook."

"Damn it....alright alright. Just give me the bag already." she sighed as she took the bag from his hands and went to the kitchen to see what all he had brought. As She was sorting through the ingredients, Levi stood and watched in the doorway with his arms crossed before hearing her speak up while her back was turned to him.

"So....Kal s-said there's an open spot at-" she was cut off by a fist punching the wall.

"I don't want to hear it, (Y/n)! You promised that you wouldn't sell your body to disgusting men and be a prostitute!"

she turned to him "But Levi-"

"No buts! You're not doing it! I forbid you!" he seethed with a dark glare.

An audible gulp was heard and nothing else was said as she continued to figure out what she could make in silence. Sudden footsteps made their way over to the young woman before stopping right behind her as arms made their way around her waist.

"L-Levi...?"

"I know you want to help but I can't let you do it. You know about my mom and how she died. I don't want it to happen to you too." He said softly with his chin on her shoulder.

(Y/n) sighed but rested her hands on his arms, rubbing her thumb on his skin. "Alright....I won't do it."

"Good. Now, finish dinner while I get cleaned up." With that, his gave her cheek a soft kiss before letting go of her waist and leaving to clean up the non-existent dirt off of him. (Y/n)'s cheeks went ablaze as she held a hand to the cheek he had kissed. She felt happy but she knew that he will find out about her secret job soon and it would tear him apart.

~A few weeks later~

(Y/n) knew that once Levi had cleaned and put away his knife he goes straight to bed. As she watched and made sure he wasn't going to come out anytime soon, she grabbed her bag and quietly sneaked out of their house, making sure to lock it so he wouldn't get on her ass about 'forgetting to lock the door before bed'. Looking around for any stalkers, she quietly made her way down a street, unknowing of a person hiding in the shadows watching her every move.

After turning a few corners here and there, she finally arrived at her destination. She looked up at the sign and cringed in utter disgust, loathe, and regret.

Kal's Prostitute Service.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) reached for the doorknob only for it to be roughly snatched away by a hand. With a gasp, she was forcefully turned around and now staring into the fuming eyes of a very pissed Levi.

"L-Levi, I can explain-"

"You're damn fucking right you'll explain. You're coming home. Right. Now."

At that, he forcefully dragged her by the arm, ignoring her whimpers and protests of how he was hurting her wrist. He was fuming. Raging with anger. He didn't know where to start. She promised him she wouldn't do it. Why the hell would she break her promise?

When he got there, he slammed open the front door and tossed her inside. She landed on the hard floor with a gasp before turning to look up at him. She's seen him angry before, but fucking hell, he was terrifying right now. With a gulp, she sat up a bit with a small tremble of fear.

"L-Levi please let me explain..."

"Explain what?! You went behind my back and did things you promised you wouldn't do! What fucking reason do you have for going back on your word?!"

"I had to! I couldn't stay at home while you did all the work anymore! I wanted to help!"

"You knew how I felt about you doing this shit! Why did you do it?!"

"B-Because..."

"Because what?!"

"Because I did it so we could get our citizenships to live up on the surface instead of this shithole!"

Levi stopped in his tracks and just stared at her. That was her reason? To help get the both of you to the city above them? Tears watered her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she continued.

"I-I had to....I hate seeing you struggle and come home tired and dirty....I couldn't stand it anymore....s-so I took the job of being a-a prostitute.....only until we got the money to get out of this place and have a little extra to get the things we'll need....I couldn't stand being useless anymore, Levi. I-I'm so sorry...!"

She curled up on her spot on the floor and sobbed into her knees with her hands in her hair as Levi watched her, hearing her apologize over and over again through her hiccups. His anger burned out like a fire without air and carefully went over to her shaking form. When he kneeled down to her height, his arms encircled her form, making her tense as her sobs suddenly paused.

"How much...?" he asked softly.

"H-huh...?"

"How much do you have saved up?"

"M-More than enough to get us past the gate a-and to get our citizenship....I've asked around...and someone told me the prices......I saved twice as much than what we needed..." she explained.

He held her closer. "I'm sorry for getting so mad. I was just worried that I would lose you just like mom. I'm still not happy that you went behind my back....but I'm happy that you and I will get to live a better life up there."

(Y/n) blinked before she smiled through her tears and hugged him back. They both stayed like that for a small while before Levi pulled back with his signature glare. "Now, I'm all dirty."

That made (Y/n) laugh.

~Timeskip~

A few weeks had passed and Levi and (Y/n) had finally settled in their new home on the surface after buying some new furniture for it. And, of course, brooms. Levi couldn't forget the brooms. While Levi spent the days cleaning and organizing their new place, (Y/n) ran a small stand in the market. She had a big surprise for Levi. As the sun was starting to set, all the other stands were closing down, meaning (Y/n) could go home and have the day off tomorrow since her boss knew of her surprise. As she quickly packed up her stuff, she ran down the familiar street she takes everyday and soon made it home. With a smile, she went inside and placed her bag in its normal spot that Levi made just for her.

"I'm home~!"

Levi peeked his head from the kitchen and hummed before walking over to her. "You seem happy. What's the occasion?"

"You'll see tomorrow. Boss gave me the day off because of it."

"Oh? Then it must be a big surprise if you get an entire day off for it."

"Mhm! You'll love it~" she smiled.

"I enjoy everything that you give me, (Y/n)" he said as he ruffled her hair, making her whine in protest. Levi only chuckled and went back to the kitchen to finish the food he was preparing.

The next day, everything went smoothly until she had suddenly finished all her cleaning early before noon and had told Levi to get ready for his surprise. With a grunt, he got up from his spot on the couch and slipped on his boots as he waited for the woman to grab whatever she needed. Once she was back, the two headed out and began to walk. When they turned down a specific street, (Y/n) went behind him and covered his eyes, making him mumble a few curse words.

"Calm down, I'll make sure you won't fall. Just trust me." she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Hurry up, though. I don't like not seeing where I'm going." he huffed.

(Y/n) only giggled and carefully led him to a specific building before uncovering his eyes. In front of him was a small tea shop. And it wasn't no ordinary tea shop either. Inside was clearly cleaned to where it shined and several different types of tea was displayed neatly behind the counter with a good few table sets were evenly spread out enough where people can walk. He noticed that no one was here so he turned to her.

"You brought me to a tea shop with no one here?"

"Nooooooo. I brought you to your tea shop! You said you've always wanted to open one so, Ta-da~!" she grinned.

Levi was flabbergasted. The tea shop is his? He looked at her before suddenly pulling her in for a sweet kiss. (Y/n) tensed and turned a dark shade of red before slowly returning the gesture as her arms found themselves around his neck with his around her waist. The kiss lasted for a minute before Levi pulled back.

"I love it. And I love you. Thank you for everything." he smiled.

"You're welcome. And I love you too, Levi."

"I'm glad. Now, let's go see what kind of tea we have."

(Y/n) laughed at this but followed him inside as their new lives have only just begun.

[impossible-rat-babies]

What about 45 for pollux and ortega 👀

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together

thank you tas i know im showing up late for this prompt, but better late than never right? lmao

fallen hero | ~1.5k words | m!ortega + nb!sidstep | cw: very mild mentions of nsft | mostly below the cut!

ao3

--

Pollux sinks lower into the bath water and, for the first time in a long while, it’s quiet.

The faucet still drips, ripples spreading out until they hit his knees and they sink beneath the water--distorted and unclear. The next drop ripples until the waves are too small and they sink beneath the surface of the water. Holding as still as possible and the top of the water turns to glass--white tiled walls of the shower shining in the warm white overhead light. Steam flutters around it in swirling little clouds like cigarette smoke.

Sinking further, his nose almost rests against the surface of the water and it smells of oatmeal and lavender. His eyes slowly close, back relaxing in a cascade down his spine and into his hips. A domino effect until he’s almost too lazy to move and it’s easier to breathe.

The porcelain of the tub holds the warmth against his body, the water perhaps too hot but he likes it when his skin turns flush red and he can hold onto that warmth for hours. He lifts his hands out of the water, the backs of them almost red enough to eclipse the scars and the recent rough angry cracked lines of eczema across his wrists. He frowns.

“Don’t pick at it, Pollux...���

His eyes dart over to Ortega, sitting opposite him beside the tub, arm propped up on the edge. Thumbnail picking a callous on his index finger, white shirt mostly unbuttoned--feet bare, legs stretched out. It’s lazy how he pesters, but his gaze is pointed at Pollux’s fingers curled to scratch.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Pollux sits up, water dripping off his scratchy unshaven chin as his hands disappear beneath the water. Out of sight, Pollux picks a hangnail on his middle finger, circles the little grooves his rings have left. They’re all sitting up on the vanity, carefully pulled from his fingers by Ortega with the excuse they’ll be ruined in the water.

“You looked like you were thinking about it.”

Ortega adjusts, leaning over and his back hunches, shoulders bunched.

“I was just looking.”

Pollux insists, but there’s no fight behind his voice, just tired apathy. He doesn’t have the gumption or the initiative to bicker right now, tucking his hands under his legs and he bends his knobby knees to peek out of the water. Ortega gives a tired sigh, seemingly in no mood to bicker either and he sits back with a grunt. He’s getting too old to sit on the floor like this, but he said he was staying.

His hand drops to trace the cream colored water, index finger breaking the glassy surface followed by his middle and ring fingers.

Pollux stares at his idle hand as it makes waves that reach the shore of his knees and thighs in a rippling caress. A touch from a distance, crossing this eight or so inches between them.

He can’t resist--he reaches out, guarded but brushing his hand along the back of Ortega’s hand. Across his knuckles, one two three valleys and peaks each dotted with a hint of cool metal, four fingers to curl around three fingers as he is want to do. Moisture gathers in the creases of Ortega’s hand, either from the steam or just the water, hand sweat sticky to the touch.

Ortega hums, a punctuated sound in the hush, fingers twitching and they cup--curl and spread. Holding his hand with quiet affection.

Pollux thinks about warning him, that if he shocks him it’ll be the reckoning of all reckonings, but there’s no words in his throat when he looks.

Ortega’s eyes are half closed.

Eyelashes brushing the half moon lines of age and sleepless nights, the crows feet tickling at the corners of his eyes to match worn and well loved laughter lines. There’s greying salt and pepper to his temples--wiggling wavy strands tickling sideburns and his beard is coming in nicely. He mostly joked about it in the hospital that night, but Ortega took it to heart. It’s a stop in the transit of change and age--both subjects they’ve both talked and shouted themselves to raw throats on.

At least his hairline hasn’t started to recede yet and oh the crisis he would have at the mere thought of going bald. Not that the stylists would let it show, god forbid he doesn’t age in grace at just over forty. He’s no longer the face though; no stylist in the world can make grief look beautiful, nor erase heartbreak.

Pollux still remembers the charming rapscallion of a playboy who fit so well in front of a camera one would think he was born for the limelight. Born for this action, this sort of lifestyle and maybe he was, but Pollux doesn’t think so.

Time changed that—time and tragedy. Falls from great heights, twice now for Ortega, brought changes of perspective to them both and oh it smarts in the cavity of his chest. Beneath his ribs there’s ache he hasn’t been able to soothe for almost a year now. (Ortega makes up most of the aches and pains his body.)

Time is a cruel mistress with her pointing fingers and cheshire smiles--teeth far too straight and too white on a backdrop of red lipstick.

“Lux?”

Ortega whispers his name like a question.

Deep breath in and he closes his eyes. Feels the squeeze in his hand and he clutches back--the cool press of an emitter to his palm.

“Ricardo?”

He whispers back and opens his eyes.

“You know,” A mumble from only partially open lips that twist to a smile, “I always thought you would have smaller hands. Baby hands, ya know? Match the rest of you.”

Pollux sniggers.

“But you have piano fingers instead.”

“I never learned how to play the piano.”

“Is it funny that I can’t imagine you ever playing one?”

Pollux laughs briefly, the apples of his cheeks hurting in that good way. A way that remind him that he’s as real as his breathing, as the heartbeat he feels in the left side of his chest.

“I’d be terrible at it...” Pollux whispers like any louder and something would snap crackle pop like tempered glass. Like car windows and gas tank explosions--windows and red balloon paintings.

“True.”

Pollux rolls his eyes, head flopping back against the rim of the tub. Wet strands of hair tickling his shoulders, sticking to sweat slick skin--indiscriminate in its touches of tattoos versus real skin. Both worn and scarred and he calms the urge to scratch the hollow his collarbones form when he too hunches over.

“Would you still listen to me play, Ricardo?”

“Of course.”

Said without hesitation and a bright smile Pollux can’t help but share--crooked teeth and scars that tug and all.

--

Later they’ll go about the same routine they always do.

Ortega will help him out of the bath and Pollux will half dress. Ortega will sit in front of him while he sits on the bed, take his hands in his and rub medicated lotion into his cracked skin. He’ll pull loose scabs away, fingers light on the fresh cracks as they sting.

Hands across his prominent knuckles and narrow fingers, down his thin wrists, making sure the inside of his elbows are cared for. Routine motions, Pollux watching his hands work. The surety of his hands having memorized his skin, as knowing as his eyes and Pollux is known.

The quiet horror of that realization and the even quieter way he lets that fact eat him alive.

The quiet way Ortega asks each night if he needs help and the even softer way Pollux tells him yes—the timid way he’ll ask for help behind his knees.

Ortega will kiss the side of his knee when he’s done and look up at him with heady eyes and Pollux will pull him in close, guide his lips to his (as he is want to do) and turn off the light. Let what happens in the dark happen in the dark.

Both of their hands much more suited to break, but still Ortega will cradle the back of his neck and along the outside of his thigh like his fingers have always belonged there—meant to touch him. Press kisses to lavender scented skin.

And Pollux will run his fingers across his jawline and down along his neck and he thinks that if Ortega really could see him then he would see him.

(Hold him wailing--sobbing and better yet stop this. Make it all stop. How does he stop? He doesn’t, that’s it. He already knows how this goes, the ending of this story.)

There’s no words said when tears collect on his eyelashes, just hand in terrible hand, fanned out--small palm to larger palm. Names whispered with gasping breaths and fingers linked together. Pressed against the mattress and another night lost--another night gained.

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay chapter 7: Mutant Town

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry

Mikey fell, and he screamed all the way down. A large pile of garbage softened his fall— in fact, it was more like a mountain than a pile. A mountain that he tumbled down like a tossed rock, and once he pulled himself into his shell to escape the tumbling whiplash, he even resembled a rock. The slope of his shell ensured that he landed on his plastron, and only once he was still for several moments did he crawl back out of his shell and look around the environment.

The first thing he noticed, with a wave of relief, was that it was night. The next thing he noticed was the wall; a great, big wall of wire and metal sheets around the perimeter that stretched several feet taller than the highest trash peak, and along the top of it were tangles of barbed wire that made the place look almost like a prison yard. No, not a prison yard— a junkyard! And a pretty big one at that! Mikey couldn’t see much from where he was, expansive walls of junk blocking his view and giving him the sensation of almost being in a giant maze.

Mikey struggled to his feet. He was unstable but, as long as he had the wall to lean on, he was sure he could find his way. The cold, tickling tingle washed over him, but he forced his way through the cloud of misery. He tested the steadiness of the wall before he dared to lean his whole weight into it; at his size, even the most sturdy of things were at constant risk of collapse. The wall supported him just fine, and he was thankful as he used it to guide his way while his other hand cupped around his stomach. Mikey made his way down the first walkway. Trash, trash, and more trash was all he saw, packed together so tightly together that their integrity surpassed even some of the houses back in Mikey’s city.

“Man, and I thought my New York was dirty!” Mikey whistled. He was sure this wasn’t actually a part of his counterpart’s city, but the joke helped him to not completely shut down. “Raph? Leo? Dee?”

No response came. To the left of Mikey’s path was a disturbance that made him yelp and grab his nunchaku expecting a threat; the perceived threat was, in fact, a giant rat running down the side of one of the closer hills. The rat ran over Mikey’s feet, bolting down the path while its pursuers, three very fat cats, were hot on its tail and seemed to take no interest in Mikey.

Mikey practically squealed. “Kitties!”

Mikey hurried after them as fast as his still-stiff body could carry him. For as long as he could remember, he had always wanted a cat! The ones back in his world always seemed to run from him, but maybe these ones could be different! If he was extra quiet, maybe he could even pet one!

“Here kitty kitty. Pspspspspsp…” He fell to his knees when he caught up to the cats; they were all crowded around a small hole in the trash, too small for them to fit through, batting through the opening with sad mewls. “Aw… hey kitty kitties…”

One of the cats almost immediately responded to Mikey’s calls, the other two still too focused on trying to get the rat to care about the mutant. The cream tabby, tail held high, trotted over to Mikey with all the confidence in the world and pressed his face against the mutant’s finger, immediately starting to purr as he danced around Mikey’s hand. Mikey gasped out a sob and started to cry as carefully deft fingers began to massage the tom cats cheeks and head, and in response the cat squinted his eyes closed and started to knead his claws into the dirt; he was even drooling a bit!

“Oh my god…” Mikey sniffled and, on impulse, slowly scooped the fat cat into his hands. The cat didn't seem to mind, so Mikey picked him up and held the cat securely to his chest. “I never wanna leave…”

“Babies!” A voice echoed through the junkard and immediately both Mikey and the cats were at alert. “Babies babies babies!”

The cat kicked himself free of Mikey’s grasp and took off running toward the voice; the other two cats snapped out of their trance and ran just as fast. That voice had been close, really close, and Mikey certainly didn't want to stick around and see the human that it belonged to. In his mind, he still saw the hate in the eyes of the officers that had cornered him and his brothers. He saw it so clearly, and he felt that same fear, and that same sense of smallness like the humans were growing and he was shrinking and he was alone and—

Mikey had to hide. The footsteps were approaching, and the only place to escape to was behind an old, rusted car, and that was exactly where Mikey went. He covered his mouth to hopefully hide the fact that he was breathing so heavy, and he saw the shadow of the stranger as they passed by on the other side of the car. Mikey held his breath. The shadow paused. Surely they didn't know Mikey was? How could they know?

The car gave a groan and Mikey soon realized that it was being moved. Lifted, as if it was nothing more than cardboard, and to Mikey’s horror he looked up to something tall and definitely not human. White eyes were the only part of the creature that wasn’t cast into shadow, two massive claws clicking together in a threat. The stranger was completely covered in thorn-like spikes, and when his eyes focused on Mikey, his lips curled into a sneer.

“Whatchu doin’ crawling around down there?”

Mikey screamed. It wasn’t a very long scream, more like a high-pitched yelp, but it was enough for color to flood back into the other mutant's eyes as he kneeled, looking far less threatening now he was at Mikey’s height.

“Hey hey, it’s okay.” The mutant waved a claw in what was intended to be a deescalating manner, “Don’t scream, kid, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Mikey was able to see more of the mutant now that they were closer. His skin was purple and he had dark hair with streaks of aging gray. His outfit was simple, a stained white t-shirt and a leather jacket, both torn by the jagged spikes that littered his body. Around his waist was a belt that looked like it could have once been the collar of a junkyard dog, black with silver spikes, though it wasn’t holding anything up because the mutant was without pants.

“Didn't mean ta scare ya kid…” The mutant offered a claw and Mikey slowly accepted it, standing with the help of what he now recognized as a praying mantis around the same height as Donnie. “Jus’ wonderin’ why you’s pokin’ around is all.”

Mikey swallowed what little spit was left in his mostly dry mouth. “Hey… you’re a mutant!”

“And uh… so’s is you.” The mantis smiled and pointed at Mikey.

“I didn't know there were other mutants here!” Mikey’s voice did that thing where it went loud without intention, but he didn't care. “Oh my god that is so cool!”

The mantis laughed jovially. “Man, where have you been that you don’t know about other muties?”

He swung his arm around Mikey’s shoulders and prodded the tip of his claw against the turtle’s plastron with nothing but friendly intention. He started to guide Mikey down the path and Mikey was more than willing to go with him.

“Uh…” Mikey rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m… pretty new in town.”

The narrow path they had taken opened up to show a wide, mostly-clear area in the heart of the junkyard. The first thing Mikey saw, much to his delight, was a congregation of fat, happy cats feasting on a large assortment of food laid out for them

“Well, let me be the first to introduce you, then. I’m Repo Mantis...” Repo motioned to the area beyond the cats, “Welcome to Mutant Town.”

“Wha…?” Mikey’s mouth fell open. The longer he stared, the less he could believe what he was looking at.

What was once junkyard opened up into what could almost be mistaken for a town or, more accurately, a village. The space wasn’t particularly big. And from what Mikey could see of the layout there was only one road, but to him it was the most beautiful thing. Mutants— lots of them! Mammals and reptiles and birds too; Mikey could have almost mistaken it for an actual street if not for the colorful creatures that called it home instead of humans. Then Mikey realized that the structures that filled the area were meant to be houses! Some of them were cars, hollowed out and filled instead with personal items and sleeping spaces, while others were more innovated; ramshackle sheds out built of scrap metal acting as small houses. There were tarp canopies that covered outdoor sleeping spots, and there were tents, and there was random furniture scattered around for shared comfort space. He even spotted a few shipping containers that had been renovated into small hotels with four or five rooms side by side.

“Woah…” Mikey almost forgot to breathe.

“Cool, innit?” Repo smiled, laughing once more as he gave Mikey a playful shake. “Come on! I’ll show you around!”

The mantis led Mikey deeper into the compound. For the first time in his life, Mikey was able to walk down a road, in front of people (more or less) without being stared at! It was him who was doing the staring, his awe getting the better of him the more he witnessed of the small town and its occupants. Mutants of all shapes and colors and species—young and old and skinny and fat and small and big! There were some so large he had to crane his neck to actually look at them.

“This is incredible…” Mikey breathed.

“This is everyday in this city.” Repo snickered, beak wrinkling, “Seriously kid, no worries! You’re among your own kind here!”

“Wow…”

A sudden and unsteady klunk klunk klunk caught the attention of both mutants. They looked further down the trail to see what looked like a tin can running after them! No, not a tin can, Mikey quickly realized, but a tiny cream kitten with a tin can stuck on his head. With every step the little kitten took, he wobbled and stumbled and fell, making very little progress in his search for help. It was like he had four left feet!

Repo clicked his tongue and calmly shook his head, helping Mikey to rest on a couch before heading over to gather the kitten up in his claws.

“Aw, sweetie.” Carefully, his claws started to work the can off of the kittens head until the young cat was free. “How do you keep doing that, sweet thing? Aww…”

The kitten reared its head up to encourage the gentle petting of Repo’s sloped claw, tiny paws dancing in the air while purrs sounded off in quick succession, more than loud enough for Mikey to hear.

“Awww kitty!” Mikey stuck out his bottom lip as he made desperate grabby hands.

Repo gave an amused smile at the turtle’s antics and made his way over, guiding Mikey’s grabbing hands into more of a cradle before carefully placing the kitten in Mikey’s arms. Mikey melted under the warmth and the pleasant vibrations. It was as if his entire body was jello and the only thing keeping him in one piece was the solid mass of happy energy in his arms. He was terrified to move, so went as stiff as a statue, not daring even to blink.

“Oh my god I love him…” The kitten pressed against Mikey’s hand and gave him no choice but to massage the fluffy face with a delicate touch; all the while the kitten was still wobbling unsteadily back and forth as if some invisible force was jerking him along. “Why is he so wobbly?”

“Wobbly kitten syndrome.” Repo said with a sigh and shake of his head, “Normally they’re euthanized but eh… he seems to be handling himself alright for now.

Mikey sucked in a shaky, sobbing breath, “He’s the most beautiful baby boooooooyyy…”

***

“Incredible…” Donnie said breathlessly, adjusting his goggles once more to get an even closer look inside the compound, “It’s like a whole town of mutants down there!”

“It’s not called Mutant Town for nothing.” Leonardo smirked, leaning against the taller turtle like he was a fence post.

“There must be dozens of them!”

“Thirty-four currently, to be exact.” Donatello said proudly, “And we just so happen to know the guy who runs the place, so let us do the talking, kay?”

“Kay.” Leo entertained with a slight nod.

“But you talkin’ us back for a tour the second we get the time to spare.” Raph rumbled, flashing teeth to show his joke.

Donatello took the lead of the group as they descended upon the compound, to a grand door just below a sign reading ‘Beware the Repo-Mantis’ with the ‘tis’ added on with spray paint. Leo felt incredibly small under the sharp watch of the guards on point, two large and particularly nasty looking mutants hidden among the wires, but he stayed quiet as had been requested of him. Quiet, but alert. Donatello rang the bell that said “Ring For Service” and it wasn’t very long at all before the gates were opening, and out from the community stepped a seven foot praying mantis with a sneer on his face; a sneer that faded quickly when he saw Donatello.

“Donnie!” Repo Mantis wrapped his arms around Donatello and heaved him up in a powerful grip, “Shit, man, how the hell are ya?!”

“I can’t complain!” Donatello mused, slipping out of Repo’s grasp faster than the laughing mutant could catch him again, “Pizza’s still a’flowing, and Foot’s still a’kicking, so you know…”

“Business as usual?” Repo offered.

“Exactly!” Donatello clicked his tongue and winked, whisking Repo away for a private chat, “But there is a minor issue.” He gave the mantis man a quick rundown of the days affairs.

Repo considered, and then nodded. “Ah. Sounds like you got’s your hands full. Well, glad to say I can help ya wit’ at least one of your problems. Wait here.”

Repo disappeared back into the compound. Donnie leaned over to whisper in Donatello’s ear.

“How do you know him again?”

“He tricked me, I bug zapped him, he nearly trashed my tank in a Demolition Derby, you know how it is.”

Donnie really didn't know how it was, but he didn't want to ask. Repo returned soon, this time with a six foot tall box turtle in tow.

“Mikey!” Three brothers swarmed the youngest.

“My son.” Splinter raised a hand to touch Mikey’s face, then hesitated when he saw a tiny bundle of orange in his sons arms. “Oh…”

Mikey sniffled as he held the tiny, ginger kitten in the palm of his hand, petting his fingers through the happy tom cats fur. “Repo said I could keep him. I named him Klunk. With a K!”

Michelangelo gasped. “CUUUUUTE! Also, hugs!”

Michelangelo penetrated the wall of muscle to give Mikey a hug, which Mikey returned with a weak arm.

“Mikey, we can’t…” Leo started, but a sharp glare from Donnie made him hold his tongue.

The family started to usher Mikey away, now acutely aware of just how exposed they were out here; the rapidly rising Sun was doing them no favors. Mikey showed no resistance in following, and the rest of the turtles joined the congregation as they passed.

“I’m gonna give him so much cheese…” Mikey sniffled, not bothering to wipe his tears.

“Weee have cheese.” Donatello commented with a nod.

Leonardo laughed and gave Mikey a firm pat on the carapace. “Welcome to paradise, hermano. It’s great to have you back.”

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 34

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 34

The early morning sunlight shone diagonally into the room, casting a bright yellow glare onto the back of his eyelids. Lin Yan ripped off the blanket. He rolled out of bed in a daze, but his legs gave out and he fell. He sat on the bedside, taking deep breaths.

His whole body hurt like it had been run over by a cart. Every muscle was screaming. Lin Yan shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the hangover dizziness, tugging at the blanket that had half-fallen down. The place where Xiao Yu had slept was already empty, and a shallow depression in the bed reminded him of the absurdity of last night's drinking.

Lin Yan roughly tapped his temple. For the first time, he wanted to wipe away his drunken memory but the more he tried to forget, the more sober he became. Even the ghost's watching gaze was still present in his mind. His velvety black eyes looked lost while he whispered his name and slammed into him. It was like his body was still pressed against him, their hearts intertwining as one.

He slept with someone he has to spend 24 hours a day with. How is this going to end?

Idiot, Lin Yan cursed. He put on a long T-shirt meant for playing basketball and walked towards the wall. When he heard Xiao Yu calling him, Lin Yan didn't even have the courage to turn around and answer him. He stumbled into the bathroom with his head down and locked the door behind him.

The person looking back at him in the mirror had red eyes, swollen cheeks, and a series of blue and purple hickeys that stretched from the bottom of his neck to his collarbone. Lin Yan tugged the collar of his T-shirt down. When he saw the miserable state of his chest, he hastily turned his head. He turned on the shower to wash his body. The water rained onto his face. Everything he did, and didn't, want to see blurred. The sensitive parts of his body were stimulated by the hot water, causing the corner of Lin Yan's mouth to twitch in discomfort. Still gritting his teeth, he roughly scrubbed his body.

He couldn't wait for this layer of skin to eventually flake off.

Lin Yan dried his hair and wiped a hand across the foggy mirror. It still showed a beautiful and clean face. The stand-up collar T-shirt just covered the marks on the neck. Lin Yan propped himself up on the sink and smiled miserably at the man in the mirror.

Compared to love, carnal desire is much simpler. A meal, a bottle of wine, and anything can happen. You don’t even need to take off your clothes. Do the deed, forget about it, take a shower and continue on like nothing happened. Who needs to bring up the unpleasantness of last night anyway?

He can't succumb to a paranoid ghost. The street was full of decent people. Who knows what animal opened its thighs last night, and which corner it will live in the next night?

The tinkling sound of cups and plates came from the kitchen and passed through the messy living room. The moment the sliding door opened, Lin Yan was stunned by the sight in front of him, and he didn't move for a long time.

The light golden sunlight fell on the ground. The suave gentleman with messy sideburns and a pair of slender eyebrows carefully rinsed a frozen fish under the tap. Lin Yan bought it a few days ago and threw it in the freezer and forgot to take it out. It was freezer burnt. The fish's eyes were covered with a layer of frost, its mouth wide open, and the head that peeked out from his hands was a bit dull. The saucepan was placed on the burner, and the water was almost at a boil. Several pieces of ginger and green onions were diced into various-sized pieces on the chopping board. He had forgotten to peel the ginger, the clueless blockhead.

Hearing the movement at the door, Xiao Yu turned his head. A smile was hidden in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth were softly curved upwards: "You're awake. You're not going to sleep some more?"

". . . I'm too nauseous to sleep." Lin Yan's face burned. Avoiding his eyes, he walked over to turn off the tap. "What are you doing with this thing? Are you hungry?"

It took everything in him to pretend to stay calm: "I thought you didn't need to eat."

"I wanted to make breakfast for you." Xiao Yu pointed to the fish in the sink. "It's too frozen."

"You need to defrost it in the microwave, so it won't be melted in one day." Lin Yan glanced at the scattered green onion and ginger on the chopping board. "Besides, no one makes fish this early in the morning. It's too heavy."

Xiao Yu stood still in front of the sink, awkwardly holding the fish's tail: ". . . This is all I know how to make."

Lin Yan took out a frying pan and moved the saucepan off the burner: "I can't eat this stuff with an upset stomach. Don't worry about it. I'll just cook something myself to eat."

"What do you want to eat? Let me try." Xiao Yu said as he went to look through the refrigerator. He had just opened it slightly before Lin Yan shut it, his voice unconsciously raised: "I said don't worry about it. Don't act like this is your house. Look at what my living room already looks like. Who knows what might happen to the kitchen later on. Young Master Xiao has probably never had to lift a finger in his life. I don't need your help."

When he spoke, he unconsciously put more emphasis on the 'my', deliberately excluding him, leaving no room for argument.

A one-night stand or something seemed too far-fetched for him, but he couldn't have sex and expect to now be fully devoted to each other. The person opposite him was stunned. His eyes, full of expectation, darkened. He was a bit at a loss holding the fish, as if he had done something wrong, and didn't know what to do.

Lin Yan didn't dare to look at him. He struggled to take out the eggs and milk from the refrigerator. He poured the oil into the frying pan and cracked open the eggs with two clicks. Once he turned around, Xiao Yu was still standing in the same spot, the frozen fish turning his fingers red. He wasn't going to leave or stay. He lowered his eyes and glanced back at him occasionally as if he was afraid of getting in trouble.

Lin Yan didn't say anything. He took out a spatula and flipped the fried egg over. The pain in his back was still terrible. Every step he took was torturous. The ghost noticed his unnatural stance. After standing behind him for a while, he hesitantly put down the fish. He wrapped himself around him in an attempt at a comforting hug. He put his chin on Lin Yan's shoulder. He felt like a mass of cold air like he had forgotten to close the refrigerator door.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Xiao Yu's tone was softer than ever before. "I'll be gentler next time."

Lin Yan took a deep breath. Xiao Yu's touch brought back the memories of last night. He had fully submitted himself to the ghost. The uncontrollable debauchery and the sense of shame of being exposed on the spot made him antsy. He interrupted him, expressionless: "There won't be a next time. I was drunk last night. Let's pretend it never happened. What's done is done, okay?"

The person behind him trembled, and the arms around him loosened.

Lin Yan couldn't bear it and concealed it by fiddling with the fried egg in the pan: "You can't help with this. Find me some nausea medicine. It's in the bedroom drawer."

Xiao Yu pondered for a moment, then asked him in a low voice: "What does the nausea medicine . . . look like?"

"You don't know anything." Lin Yan sighed. He put the spatula down. He turned around, suppressing the evil fire in his heart: "Please leave. I'm in a bad mood. I don't have time to say something nice to make you happy."

Xiao Yu was silent and slowly let go of him. He raised a pair of dark eyes to stare at Lin Yan. Something he couldn't understand floated in his eyes, like sadness. He gave him a once-over from head to toe. He turned his head and gently saying: "Lin Yan, don't play with me."

When he turned around, the ghost had already disappeared. Lin Yan slowly put the fried egg on the plate. He pressed through the pain in his stomach and began to eat. The touch of the embrace seemed to linger on his body. He subconsciously shook his shoulders, his face wooden.

Don't play with me? Lin Yan recalled the ghost's words with a look in his eyes. This proud young man had rushed out of the unknown and forcibly occupied his home, his bed, his space, his time and his . . . his thigh muscles twitched. Lin Yan slowly rubbed his hands along his thighs. Finally, he put down his chopsticks and buried his face in the palms of his hands and rubbed hard, unconsciously turning his eyes red. In the end, who was playing with who?

Meat is most delicious with the blood. The more debaucherous the lust, the more enjoyable it'll be. Sex could be dirty, but love couldn't. Love was the purest thing, there was no room for filth. The ridiculous night was over. The unpredictable ghost could be forgotten, but the gentle side of the ghost forced him to remember some feelings that had nothing to do with lust. The softest corner of his heart was gently tugged. Lin took a bit of his egg, his throat choked up with inexplicable sorrow and grief.

Maybe he was disgusted with himself for losing himself last night, but what difference does it make? Lin Yan silently thought. Some things can't be taken back.

After washing the dishes, he called Professor Folder's secretary to confirm the meeting time. The secretary gave him the address of the institute, and, after finalizing the meeting, Lin Yan cleaned up the kitchen. A small pile of chopped green onions and ginger was still on the chopping board. The knifework was clumsy, but he had been serious about it. Lin Yan used a knife to brush them off the board. Just as he was about to throw them away, he suddenly hesitated. He found a small bowl and put it in the refrigerator freezer.

That guy should have found a place to get angry. Lin Yan sighed, limped and held the wall to walk outside. One thing after another left him completely exhausted. He knew it was wrong to take it out on him, but he just couldn't find the energy to comfort the stubborn ghost. It was almost time for his appointment. Lin Yan packed his pen and notebook into his sports bag. When he walked into the living room, he was shocked. Xiao Yu was picking up things on the floor with his back facing him. When he heard Lin Yan come in, he turned around, holding several girl's trinkets, hair clips, dolls, leather coin purses, and a few photos that could barely be seen.

"These can still be used. Take them." Xiao Yu hung his head cautiously: "I can't compensate you for the rest. I don't have the money you use, and you took everything I had."

The sunlight came in from the half-opened curtains. The ghost stood helplessly in the wind-swept living room, bowing his head as a peace offering, lowering his stature and waiting to be forgiven.

Lin Yan couldn't say a word. He stood there for a long time, and when he opened his mouth, his voice became mute: "What are you doing this early in the morning? Are you trying to make me feel bad?" He found a garbage bag to put them in, harshly tying the bag. "I don't even want them anymore."

He dragged Xiao Yu into the bedroom and opened the paper bags that were piled up in the corner. The clothes he bought in Shenjiayuan last time were hung in the closet. He had even kept the auspicious mortuary clothes, carefully ironed out and hung on clothing hangers. The full cabinet was stuffed with two people's things, almost giving a sense of 'home'.

"Satisfied? Come over and I'll help you comb your hair." Lin Yan tugged Xiao Yu's sleeve: "I made an appointment to ask about you at the research institute today. We're going to be late."

All the words in the world couldn’t compare to the warmth of "we". Lin Yan held Xiao Yu's long, silky hair. The two figures were reflected in the mirror. White fabric draped over the top. The pearwood dresser was decorated with gold inlay. The pearly surface was like the white of a flower. A screen behind them covered in peony flowers and birds was complex and magnificent; a dazzling sight

Lin Yan satisfactorily rolled a bun with a bone hairpin. The bangs on his forehead fell down. His features were as sharp as a knife, with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes. He couldn't help but squeeze his face jokingly: "Young Master looks really handsome. How are you going to pay for your manservant?" He muttered: "Without money, you have to sleep with me at night. What a shame."

As he spoke, he put his hand on Xiao Yu's shoulder. Cold fingers moved up to caress the back of his hand, carefully tracing the bones in his fingers, like dealing with a treasure made of jade.

"I know all that. I just can't bear to let you go." Xiao Yu spoke very lightly.

"What?" Lin Yan didn't hear him clearly.

"Nothing." Xiao Yu said softly.

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

The research institute where the professor worked was built inside a large complex. It took a long time to find the side road from the main road. The low bungalows were shaded by the century-old trees. There were round tables and wicker chairs on the open balcony of the building, and occasionally they could see gray-haired foreigners sitting together drinking tea.

After greeting the entrance guard, Lin Yan drove his car into the back parking lot with ease and stopped in front of a modest gray bungalow. The 90s-style office didn't have a separate door, two steps leading into the dark and dreary building. Standing in the yard was a middle-aged man in work clothes, holding a small piece of paper to double-check if it matched Lin Yan's car license plate. When he saw that everything matched, he smiled honestly and greeted Lin Yan and opened the door very courteously.

"Lin, welcome. My name is Chen." The middle-aged man shook enthusiastically shook Lin Yan's hand. "The professor has arranged everything."

"Brother Chen." Lin Yan said respectfully.

"Come, come. It's bright outside. Come inside and see. Two days ago, I was on a business trip. Hey, comrade, you know, we have to travel every day in this line of work. We started going through the files as soon as we got back. Come in and find out if we have what you need."

The middle-aged man said as he took Lin Yan into the building. He was actually very young when he looked at him up close. He had a rugged look because he worked in areas with harsh UV rays. His eyes were plain and his skin was tanned and blistered. A mouthful of white teeth was revealed when he spoke. This comrade reminded Lin Yan of the old leader with a ceramic vase in front of him in the "Reform and Opening*" poster. The person in front of him's appearance suddenly started to warp in his mind. His shirt was tucked in his black pants and a Zhongshan suit was draped over him. He was gesticulating towards the door. A pair of large hands with prominent knuckles and bones was a common characteristic of the working people.

*(T/N: "Reform and Opening" policy is the Chinese economic reforms that went into place after Mao Zedong's death in China and pursued by Deng Xiaoping)

[asknarashikari]

Minific idea: Juru has a dream of him as the love interest in Shiguru’s latest romantic movie, only for him to wake up humorusly when they’re about to kiss. Then to his horror, he discovers the whole team heard him sleeptalking about it

POOR JUURU XD 

Juuru opened his eyes as he heard the soothing sound of waves crashing onto the beach and the breeze gently blowing through the palm trees. He smiled, watching the sky turn from vivid pinks and oranges into dark violets and black as twilight approached, the sun setting on the horizon.

“Baby, what are you doing out here? It’s going to get very cold soon.”

“Then why don’t you join me and keep me warm?” Juuru asked playfully, smiling impishly.

He felt a broad chest against his back and strong arms wrapped around his waist, and a mischievous smile against his neck. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” Juuru asked his companion. “Thank you so much for taking me here...”

“Hmm. Yes, it is beautiful, but this person here with me is the most beautiful of all,” the man chuckled as he started pressing kisses on his skin, pushing aside the collar of the loose shirt he wore to gain access to his collarbone.

Juuru gasped as the feather-light kisses went up his shoulder, then to his neck, and finally his cheek. “Stop teasing me,” he breathed heavily, already ragged with want. He tried to crane his head in a vain attempt to claim the kiss himself, but the other man dodged his efforts while chuckling. “You’re so mean...”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?” 

Juuru shuddered as the hands around his waist started wandering. “N-No,” he admitted weakly. “There’s never been anyone else but you...”

The other man laughed, lifting Juuru’s chin so he can look at him in the eye. The younger swallowed thickly as Shiguru stared at him like he was about to devour him alive. 

“Shiguru...?” 

“Come here,” he whispered, and Juuru, feeling compelled to follow, closed his eyes to brace himself, prepared to be swept up in his passion-

‘KIRAFUL! MIRAKURU! KIRAMEJAAAAAAAAA~!’

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

Juuru jolted awake as his alarm went off, and he groaned as groped for his phone to snooze it. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and wiped a bit of drool he felt dripping down his chin, blinking as the room came into focus.

Ah, dang it, he thought frustratedly as he recalled the dream, and he was about to kiss me too... 

“Well, good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Sayo greeted him with a smile, sipping at a cup of tea. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Huh... It’s okay, I guess,” Juuru shrugged, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Did you have pleasant dreams?” Sena grinned at him all too knowingly. 

The Red Ranger frowned at his teammates. “What do you mean by that...?” he asked with suspicion.

“Oh, well... it’s just that... we got quite the insight into  you, Juuru,” said Takamichi, smirking.  “Tame, if you please...?”

“Right,” Tametomo gave him a thumbs up as he placed his phone, which had the voice recording app onscreen, on the table. 

Then... he hit play, and what followed was the most embarrassing five minutes of Juuru’s life as he heard his own voice repeating all the cheesy lines he’d said in his dream. “Oh no, I did it again!” He squeaked as his face burned in embarrassment. The four Kiramagers laughed as Juuru blushed to match his jacket. “I can’t believe you heard me sleeptalking again...!”

“Well... at least that guy’s pleased about it,” Tametomo pointed at Shiguru, who indeed looked entirely too delighted for someone whose boyfriend has just exposed himself.

“Shiguru, back me up here!” Juuru whined. 

“I’m sorry, Juuru...” Shiguru said, trying not to smile too hard, “It’s just... you dreamt of yourself as the love interest in my new movie, didn’t you?” Juuru’s choked breath made him chuckle. “It’s pretty cute, I guess.”

“Ah, mou!!!!”

[thecookhamboys]

Finan x time travel!reader part 2!

2288 words. Fluff and smut.

Part 1 here. It’s not super necessary to understand this, but it’s short and cute.

A/N: If you want to skip the smut, it’s marked by two sets of asterisks. It’s my first time writing smut and this is my second fic ever, so any constructive notes are totally welcome :) 

It took five hours for reality to set in. The first two had been spent in blissful ignorance, then another hour in denial. The fourth and fifth hours ticked by with mounting horror, culminating in one terrifying realization.

“There’s no aloe,” you whispered to yourself. “God, I thought the potatoes were the worst part, but there’s no aloe and no ice either.” With a deep, resigned sigh, you pulled the neckline of your shift back up, hissing as it rubbed against the horrible sunburn that covered the tops of your shoulders and your chest. It happened every summer, one afternoon that turned you a deep tomato red and reminded you why your mom insisted on 90 spf. 

The burn on your face intensified-if that was even possible-with the thought of the events of the morning. Finan had seemed content for the first while that you were in the water, but after some time the grip on your hand tightened and so did the lines on his face. For several minutes you searched for ways to diplomatically send him off, but you were saved from the awkward conversation by Sihtric. 

“Finan? Are you catching us fish or just avoiding training?” One of your eyes cracked open enough to see Finan’s face break into a smile at the sight of his best friend. 

“No, just keepin’ this one from floating away. Turns out her idea of a swim is fallin’ asleep half naked.” At that, you opened your eyes and moved to a crouch indignantly.

“Hey! That was an accident that neither of us thought about and you know it!” You splashed some water at him and he and Sihtric laughed while you actively didn’t look at the water sparkling on his broad chest. “Really though, if you have to go I don’t mind. I think I’ll lie on the sand for a while and enjoy the day.” He looked down at you and nodded, then waded out of the water while yelling at Sihtric to throw him his shirt. You dunked under one last time while they left, then waded out yourself. 

Beach days in the northeast had always been about maximizing sun exposure and building a tan that would last, so you didn’t even hesitate to expose yourself. The shift’s drawstring top hem simplified rearranging to form a strapless neckline, and it was easy enough to pull up the bottom hem and tie it in a knot at your thighs. You settled in by the shore, and the sounds of the water combined with the unseasonal warmth of the sun to lure you to sleep. 

When you finally startled from your slumber it was clear that you had been there for hours; not great, since you were expected at the hall to help prepare dinner. Nothing had been amiss when you redressed, and you’d slipped in just in time to escape Gisela’s wrath and dive in chopping the endless amount of vegetables needed to feed those who sat at Uhtred’s table each night. 

The sunburn escaped your notice until you were deep into your second cup of ale, and staring at your hands became a necessary distraction from Finan’s stupid, charming face across the table. That changed with the third cup, when his allure overbalanced your embarrassment.

“Finan, ugh, check this out. I fell asleep by the river today and look at this.” You tugged your dress down to reveal a startlingly red chest, and watched in amusement as you tapped it and left lasting white fingerprints. He laughed at your misfortune, but even after you pulled the neckline up and moved back into the table’s conversation he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the strip of burned skin by your collarbones. 

The aloe realization came when you were preparing for bed. You’d done a full exam of exactly which places were burned, knowing that it would only be worse tomorrow, and had resigned yourself to a hot, sleepless night. Knowing that there was no relief on the horizon made you look forward to the next morning even less, and you set about to prepare as best you could. You opened the window to let in the cool night air, and left only the thinnest blanket out on the bed. You were folding away your two furs when a knock on the door surprised you, especially when you unlatched it and a smiling face with guarded eyes greeted you.

“I hope it’s not too late- I was mixin’ something up for ye,” he held out a small wooden bowl. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff, then looked up at him curiously.

“Is that ... milk?”

“Aye, with a little honey. It’ll help. Do ye have a cloth?” You turned to find one, and he moved into the room with you. When you turned with the cloth, it was to him holding a hand out expectantly. “I’ll help. I owe ye for this morning. That’s the longest stretch that I’ve enjoyed the water in years.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down. He glanced around the room, assessing the next move, and finally jerked his head towards the bed. “Ye don’t have anywhere else to sit. Go on, I’ll take care of ye.” 

Sitting, you looked up at him with a smirk. “I should warn you: this sunburn covers more than is proper for a lady to reveal,” you continued, laughing, “good thing I’m not a lady.” You loosened the drawstring at your neckline and slipped both arms out of the sleeves, retying them in front to ease the blush coloring Finan’s face. 

“Ye weren’t jokin’, were ye. Arms first.” He held out a hand and you placed your left in it while he soaked the cloth. He squeezed it out gently, then in several smooth strokes wiped the mixture down the length of your arm. You let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and immediately flushed, though you were sure he could barely tell. He huffed out a laugh, and let your hand go. “Feels good, aye?” With your nod, he held out his hand again and you gave him your right hand, marveling at how much of the burning had stopped. Once your arms were done, he moved closer, lightly wiping the cloth over your shoulders and chest, furrowed brows focused on keeping drips from staining the cloth of your shift. You couldn’t help but watch him, and when he shifted to your face, having all his focus on you left you scarcely able to breathe. When the cloth wiped over your cheek, you reached up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in position.

“Finan... thank you. For everything. You’ve been so kind to me these last few months, and I want you to know that I appreciate you, and all that you’ve done for me.”

“Ach, I’m sure ye’d appreciate it less if ye knew how selfish my motivations are, lass.” You reached up for him and tucked a hand on the back of his neck, mirroring his own position, and pulled him closer.

“I have selfish motivations too,” you whispered. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt or uncertainty in the sparkles from the candlelight.

 “Are ye sure?” he breathed. You nodded and he closed the distance, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You tilted your head to deepen it, and his other hand moved to rest on your knee, causing you to break away with a hiss. 

“Owwwww. Please tell me there’s enough of that left for my legs.”

“Yer legs? I thought ye were wearin’ this?”

“Yeah, well, I tied it up. Move back,” you said, patting the side of his face. Once you had space you rose and tied up the hem much as you had earlier, wrinkling your nose at the contrast between the white cloth and red skin.

“Ye look like the baby monk’s wet dream,” he muttered, taking in the full view.

“Only if the baby monk likes boiled lobsters,” you snickered, sitting back down. “Will you continue your ministrations please, oh doctor Finan?”

“Aye, with pleasure,” he said smugly, kneeling between your bared legs. “Ach, ye even got the tops of your feet.” He carefully lifted each foot into his lap, wiping the cloth from the knee down. Once he was done with that, though, you could tell you were in trouble. He looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop. I’ll do anything ye say. Always.” He reached below your knee, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder and forcing you to lean back on one elbow. This time, when he applied the liquid, he didn’t squeeze out the cloth, instead chasing the extra drops with swipes of his tongue. 

“Finan-“ his name came out of your mouth strangled, but it didn’t keep him from pausing immediately. 

“What, lass?” You reached a hand towards him, tucking it into the short hair just behind his ear, taking a second to catch your breath.

“I am not a virgin.” His eyes darkened and you could tell his brain was moving through all the terrible possibilities, so you hurried on, not wanting him to worry. “It was by choice, but I thought you should know. Where I am from people are much more casual.” He nodded, eyes not leaving yours. “You don’t need to be gentle, but be tender. Please.”

******

He pressed a kiss to your thigh, which still rested over his shoulder, and lifted the other one to match, tipping you onto your back. From his position between your thighs, he looked at you with eyes of pure sin, and moved forward until you could feel his breath on your core. He licked his lips once, then dove into you, alternating long stripes with careful, quick circles around your clit. His hands wrapped the tops of your hips, holding you to his mouth even as you clutched at his hair to keep him from pulling away. 

He was merciless with his tongue, and when your thighs tightened around his head with your climax he coaxed you through it, waiting until you tugged on his hair to pull away. He climbed onto the bed to hover over you, and you brought him in for a kiss, loving the taste of your own wetness on his lips. Eventually you broke away, if only to roll you both so you were on top. You tugged at the laces of his breeches, and after a few seconds of fumbling his cock sprang free. Leaning down, you took it in your mouth, sending a quick prayer to whoever was listening that your experiences with 21st century boys was applicable. You took him as deep as you could, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit, and set a gentle rhythm, guiding his hand to twine in your hair. After a bitten off curse when you used your other hand to cup his balls, he brought you back up for another searing kiss. You reached underneath yourself to line him up, and sank down, enjoying the strange fullness. He looked at you with wonder as you rocked back and forth over him, and brought his hands to where your shift gathered at the top of your ass. When he neared his own climax, he sat up, wrapping one strong arm around your back to pull you close as he thrust upwards. He finally stilled with his face buried in your neck, and nipped at it before kissing the mark gently. You rose up just enough for him to slip out of you, then sat back down, resting your head on his. 

******

He mumbled something into your shoulder and you frowned, not understanding. 

“Finan? You said that word earlier but I don’t think you’ve said what it means?” He laughed, shaking his head and disturbing the hand that was carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“No I have not. I couldn’t before now.” Your hand resumed its gentle combing, and he sighed. “It means ‘my love’. My secret love,” he amended, “for when ye know it but they do not. Although I suppose ye know now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently, soaking up the feeling of being in his arms and having him in yours. 

“I love you too.” When you finally got off him, he moved as if to leave. “Finan? Where are you going?” He stopped and looked at you, startled.

“It’s not proper if I stay, if someone comes in tomorrow morning and sees me sleeping here with ye...” He trailed off, seeing that his words had no impact. You shook your head, and laughed a little to yourself.

“What if I told you that where I’m from, it’s even less proper than that to make a girl feel like this and then leave when she wants you to stay?”

“Well, I’d ask when ye’d ever known me to be improper?” You laughed at that, climbing under the blanket and holding it open so he could slide in next to you once he’d removed his breeches and blown out the candles. You fell asleep quickly, sunburn completely forgotten, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face, lit up gently by the moon. In the safety of your sleep, he trailed a finger over your collarbone and pressed kisses to your hair. Finally, he pressed one last kiss to the overheated skin of your cheek, and let himself relax, content with the presence of you curled up next to him. He whispered “I love you,” into the cool night air, and let himself fall into sleep.

[cosmic-goddess-leo]

First Love / Late Spring Pt. 5

Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Series Summary: Reader was once a nationally recognized volleyball player until an injury she suffered her last year of high school. She and Kuroo knew each other vaguely through a mutual friend but lost contact after her injury. Now they attend the same University in Tokyo and are beginning to reconnect.

Chapter Summary: Kuroo nurses (Y/n) back to health after an unfortunate night of partying.

Word Count: 3667

Author’s Note: sOFT BOYS ARE MY LIFE... but so is angst

Kuroo’s face had never been sore before, so waking up the morning after the fight was jarring in more ways than one.

He could feel (Y/n)’s warmth against his body; they had moved around enough in the night to end up in a spooning position by morning. Kuroo fought the urge to rub the sleep out of his eyes, knowing it would hurt like a bitch if he touched the bruises.

Once he forced his eyes open, he looked over (Y/n)’s peaceful form as she slept. He couldn’t help but smile softly.

His smile dropped as (Y/n) squirmed and whined in her sleep, rubbing herself against his groin.

“...(Y/n)...?” He whispered against her hair. He eased his hips away from her, flushing dark red as she groaned and stretched.

Kuroo tried regaining his composure as (Y/n) turned to face him, her hair messy from sleep.

“Were you awake...?” he asked, watching her like a hawk as she brushed her hair out of her face.

“Mm-mmm... I feel awful...” she sighed, gently cradling her stomach and squeezing her eyes shut. “It’s so bright...”

“You’re hungover...” he pointed out, carefully moving to sit up. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

(Y/n) opened her eyes, attempting to give him a grateful smile only to gasp in horror and sit up quickly.

“Y-Your face!” she shrieked, her morning sickness passing for a moment. “What happened?!”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her, turning to look at himself in the mirror of her vanity. “Is it that bad?”

“You’re ignoring my question!” she whined, holding her stomach and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Kaito and I got in a fight...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“What? Why?”

Kuroo bit his lip, looking her over. “He was being creepy... I saw him trying to get you in here when you were plastered...”

(Y/n)’s eyes went wide for a moment. She glanced around her room as if she were searching for something.

“You really don’t remember?” He asked, moving to sit beside her. “He hit you...”

(Y/n) shivered as Kuroo gently brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I-I remember bits and pieces... Watching you yell at him... Him on top of you... Then falling on the ground really hard...”

“He’s gone now.” Kuroo murmured, gently tapping his thumb against her chin. “And he’s not coming back...”

(Y/n) slowly nodded, closing her eyes as she flopped onto the bed.

“I’m going to make you some breakfast... how about you shower or something while I take care of that?” Kuroo suggested.

(Y/n) nodded once more, staying silent as Kuroo got up and left the room to give her privacy.

He heard the shower turn on as he fished the eggs and bacon out of the fridge. The apartment was a pain to maneuver around since they didn’t clean last night, he would have to clean up while (Y/n) recovered from her hangover.

Kuroo didn’t realize the shower had turned off until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist while he flipped the bacon in the pan.

“I feel like I can run a 5k...” (Y/n) mumbled against his back, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Really?”

“No,” she huffed, “I threw up in the shower.”

Kuroo felt bad for laughing, especially when (Y/n) whined and covered her ears. He placed the bacon on their plates and turned to face her, gently cupping her cheeks.

“Baby’s first hangover... You’re lucky you have such a patient nurse here to take care of you.” he teased, smiling as she puffed up her cheeks. “I’ll eventually have to go to my own apartment to shower and brush my teeth though.”

“You can shower here... I have guy clothes you can wear and an unopened toothbrush...” (Y/n) mumbled, looking away from him.

“You’re pouting but you want me to stay...” he smiled, releasing her to get their plates and take them to the couch.

(Y/n) followed behind him with the glasses of orange juice he had served them. “If you’re going to be my nurse you shouldn’t leave me alone for long periods of time. I could choke on my own vomit while I take a nap and die.”

The two sat beside each other, taking their own plates and glasses. (Y/n) stared down at her food, Kuroo swore if her face could turn green it would.

“I know it seems impossible, but your live-in nurse is telling you the proteins will help settle your stomach and soak up all the leftover alcohol.” He said sternly.

She huffed and very reluctantly ate a forkful of her eggs, sighing softly once she had chewed and swallowed the food. Kuroo smiled and began eating, settling into a comfortable silence with (Y/n) as they both downed their breakfast.

(Y/n) sighed deeply as she looked at the mess in her apartment. Once Kuroo gathered their dishes from breakfast, she began picking up all the discarded bottles and solo-cups at the couch.

“Nooo no no no no, I’ll do this. You go lay down.” Kuroo said, taking the trash from her hands and going to the kitchen.

“But I’m not sleepyyyyy. Plus I feel way better.” (Y/n) whined.

“You say that now, but in 5 minutes you’ll be ready to sleep another 8 hours.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms, blocking Kuroo’s path out of the kitchen. “This is my place, I can’t make you clean it alone.”

Kuroo smirked slightly before carefully grabbing her by her hips and lifting her off the floor. He walked to her bedroom and gently sat her on her bed. “Don’t forget I’m bigger than you, sweetie.”

(Y/n) growled softly, Kuroo could have sworn he saw her pressing her thighs together as she squirmed in place.

“I’m going to clean. You’re going to nap. If you want to help, put the clothes and toothbrush out for me in the bathroom.” With that, he left the bedroom and began cleaning.

Thankfully, no one had spilled any drinks last night, so Kuroo wouldn’t have to do anything heavy duty like mop.

After about an hour, the apartment was spotless. Kuroo was pretty proud of himself. But now he was sweaty and his breath was extra ripe since he still hadn’t brushed his teeth.

He peeked into the bedroom on his way to shower, smiling softly at the sight of (Y/n) sleeping soundly, cuddling one of her pillows.

If he had paid any attention, he would have realized the pillow she was clutching so tightly was the one he had used the night before.

The hot water stung against the cuts on his face, but soothed the rest of his body. It felt wrong using (Y/n)’s hair products, but he could always buy her more later.

Once he brushed his teeth, he got a good look at the clothes she had left him. He was surprised she even had a pair of boxers to loan him. The bitter voice at the back of his head told him they were Bokuto’s.

He shook the thought away and got dressed.

(Y/n) was half awake when he went back to the bedroom and sat beside her. She gave him a soft smile as she looked him over.

“That shirt really brings out your eyes.”

Kuroo snorted tugging at the purple fabric of the tank top she left him. “You gave me this one just to make that joke huh?”

(Y/n) laughed and nodded slightly.

“Even though you’re sooo mean, I’ll be sure to wash it so you can get it back to Bokuto.”

(Y/n)’s smile slightly dropped. “It’s not his. I like men’s comfy clothes.”

Her cold tone stung. It also reminded him of something Kaito had said the night before.

“What did Bokuto do...? Kaito said he showed up and made you upset... What happened?” Kuroo asked, noting the way (Y/n) curled against the pillow slightly.

“He was mad I didn’t invite him...” she sighed. “I guess Akaashi told him, not knowing he wasn’t going...”

Kuroo sighed, fighting the urge to bite his busted lip.

“He’s just been so mean lately...” (Y/n) huffed, sitting up slightly and brushing her hair back. “He said he didn’t want you going either...”

Kuroo scoffed at that, looking away from (Y/n) and at his hands in his lap. “Why would he say that...?”

Kuroo knew exactly why. Bokuto was a spaz, but he was no idiot. He obviously knew Kuroo had feelings for (Y/n).

(Y/n) began fiddling with the pillowcase nervously. “He thinks you have a thing for me...” she murmured, tugging at a loose string on the case.

Kuroo kept up his poker face, slowly shaking his head. “It’s none of his business if I do or don't...”

“But do you?” she suddenly asked, her forceful tone throwing him off. “Do you have feelings for me?”

Kuroo raised his eyes, looking into hers.

“Yes.”

(Y/n) silently stared into his eyes, expression blank.

“When we first met at Fukurodani... I thought you were so beautiful. I wanted to take a chance and get your number but you and Bokuto obviously had something going on...” He had begun rambling, something he didn’t do often. Only when he was truly nervous.

“But now... now we’re here. We’re friends and we’re neighbors, classmates. I understand if it doesn’t feel this way to you, but to me it feels like everything has finally aligned for me to take my chance and just... just try to win you over.”

(Y/n) stayed silent. Her lips slightly parted. She pressed them tightly together.

“Maybe it’s wrong... maybe I’ve completely mistaken every interaction we’ve had and ruined our friendship. But I would never cross any boundaries you drew for us. If you tell me to leave now, I will, and I’ll still be a friend to you as much as I can be...”

She still didn’t say a word.

Kuroo slowly lowered his head, suddenly feeling stupid for this outburst. Maybe he would have been better off is he lied, he thought. But no good relationship was ever built on a lie.

He was considering getting up and leaving right then and there.

(Y/n) suddenly moved closer to him, cupping his cheeks and tilting his head so he could look at her. His eyes reluctantly met hers, the emotion in her (e/c) orbs unreadable until she pulled him close and kissed him.

The kiss was the most tender thing Kuroo had felt in his life. Maybe it was because of their injured lips, or maybe it was the raw emotion from his confession that caused her to show him this tenderness.

Either way, Kuroo was on cloud 9, and he didn’t want to come down.

His hands traced their way down their arms and to her waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her deeper.

(Y/n) sighed happily and arched into him, slowly parting from the kiss to rest her forehead against his.

(Y/n) smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I thought you were beautiful, too...”

Kuroo smiled back and brushed the tip of his nose against hers.

They lingered there for a moment, content with just holding each other.

Then (Y/n) looked like she actually turned green and pushed him away, grabbing the trashcan beside her bed and vomiting into it.

Kuroo, though mortified, couldn’t help but laugh wildly at the situation. He gently patted (Y/n)’s back as she spat the last of her breakfast into the can, still laughing.

“I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser, sweets!” he snickered, finally quieting down.

(Y/n) shot him a glare before taking his arm and wiping the puke off her lips and onto his skin. “The kiss was fine, it’s your breath that’s the problem.” she shot back.

Though her tone was fiery, she was smiling at him.

Kuroo rolled his eyes playfully and lifted her bridal style, carrying her towards the bathroom. “Such a mean little mouth, let’s wash it out.”

“Yeah, then you owe me ramen for laughing at me. My stomach’s empty now.” She huffed.

After some playful debating, the two threw on some hoodies to cover their injured faces and left to the ramen shop by their apartment. They received looks of concern when they adjusted the hoods to eat their food.

They spent the afternoon laughing and telling each other stories about their youth, their high school shenanigans, and some family stories too.

(Y/n) barely mentioned her mom, but Kuroo figured it was because she was back west while (Y/n) and her father were in Japan. If something painful had happened with the three of them, Kuroo knew (Y/n) would tell him when she was ready.

Despite having a late lunch, the two ran by the market to buy something to make for dinner. Kuroo promised to cook her some mackerel if she promised to kiss him sans puking.

She almost forced him to buy something else to make as punishment for that joke.

The two heaved their bags of groceries into the elevator, struggling to push the button for their floor once they entered.

“Does this mean we get to kiss again?” Kuroo asked, smirking down at (Y/n) as she studied the receipt in her hands.

“Depends on how good this fish is.” (Y/n) said, trying to mask her excitement.

“Fiiish?” He hissed. “This is no ordinary fish, this is pike mackerel. The best fish you’ll ever taste!”

(Y/n) laughed, stepping in tandem with him out of the elevator and towards their doors.

“You literally just called it fish!”

“You know what I mean, missy!” Kuroo snickered. He unlocked the door to his apartment and let her in first, feeling very relieved that he had cleaned his apartment the day before.

(Y/n) smiled softly, looking around the apartment while she made her way to the kitchen. “Very cozy, feels oddly familiar.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes playfully, “Maybe because it’s the same floor-plan as your apartment? Right next-door?” 

(Y/n) smiled wide and slowly nodded. “That’s gotta be it.”

She opened his fridge and her jaw practically dropped. “There is NO food in here! How have you been alive this whole semester?!”

“I usually eat on campus,” he said, loading the dry foods into the pantry, “plus I also have a hot neighbor who I occasionally get to eat with.”

(Y/n) hid her smile and began putting the groceries in the fridge. “Aren’t you lucky...”

“Very...” he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

(Y/n) smiled wider and bit her lip, yelping when she felt a sharp pain on her bottom lip. She’d clearly forgotten about her injury.

She stood straight and wiped a bit of blood off her lip, whining softly when Kuroo gently took her hand.

“Here, let’s wipe that real quick and put some ointment on it.” he said, leading her to his bathroom with his hand in hers.

She sat at the edge of his bathtub while he fetched the first-aid kit from under the sink. “Is my doctor gonna kiss it better?” she asked, batting her eyes at him.

A light shade of red now dusted Kuroo’s cheeks as he turned to her with the kit in hand. “That wouldn’t be very professional of me, now would it? I can’t be fraternizing with my patient.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes as he dabbed a bit of blood off her lip and began gently rubbing the ointment onto the cut. “Here I am trying to be cute and you-”

“Shhhhhh,” he pressed his finger to her lips, smirking, “the doctor is trying to work.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as he finished rubbing the ointment.

“Now you may speak.” He smiled, getting up and washing his hands.

“Never had such a ruuude doctor before...” she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking him over.

Kuroo dried his hands and kneeled in front of her, resting his hands on her knees and humming softly. “I can make it up to you.”

(Y/n) huffed and raised an eyebrow at him.

He quickly kissed the tip of her nose, then each of her cheeks, then her forehead. He smirked as she squeaked and covered her face.

He was about to go in for a quick peck when (Y/n)’s phone started vibrating in her pocket. 

(Y/n) sighed softly once she pulled the phone out of her pocket. Kuroo sent her a questioning glance. “It’s Bokuto...”

Kuroo frowned slightly before leaning closer to listen as she answered.

(Y/n) could barely get her greeting out before he starts speaking.

“Akaashi told me what happened last night, are you alright?” Bokuto asked.

“I’m fine... I’m safe.” she sighed. Kuroo was sure she was mentally cursing Akaashi for telling him.

“Where are you? I went to your apartment earlier but you didn’t answer the door.”

“I was out... Kuroo took me to lunch.” She explained, fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

Kuroo heard Bokuto sigh on the other end of the line.

“Are you sure you should even be with him right now?”

(Y/n) knitted her eyebrows together, sitting up slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“(Y/n), cmon. He started a fight at your apartment.”

“He didn’t start it, he ended it. He was protecting me.” (Y/n) said, her tone defensive.

“I saw a video someone took at the party, it looked a lot like he started it. I don’t feel comfortable with you being around him.”

Kuroo felt his face go red as his blood pressure rose. He was a reasonable guy, didn’t get angry easily. But Bokuto was being a real ass right now. He fought the urge to ask (Y/n) from the phone and tell Bokuto off right then and there.

“I don’t care what makes you comfortable.” (Y/n) snapped, pulling Kuroo from his thoughts. “I’m doing what makes me comfortable right now. Kuroo was there for me, he protected me, he comforted me. I feel safe with him!” (Y/n) sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “He’s done more for me in 24 hours than you’ve done since the semester started. Now I’m going to hang up and you’re not going to call me back.”

Kuroo watched with wide eyes as she hung up the phone and set it on the sink. He gently stroked her arm as she hung her head and ran a hand through her hair. “You didn’t have to do that... I don’t want there to be tension because you stuck up for me.”

“I did have to do that.” (Y/n) said, staring down at her feet. “You’ve been really great to me... It would be pretty shitty of me if I just let him talk about you like that.”

Kuroo lightly tapped his finger against her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. “You could never be shitty... come watch tv?”

(Y/n) smiled softly and slowly nodded, following Kuroo out of the bathroom and leaving her phone at the sink.

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

(Y/n) and Kuroo were washing the dishes from their dinner when Kuroo heard a knocking at his door.

He felt his stomach drop when he looked through the peephole, seeing Bokuto standing at the other side of the door. He was very glad he had left (Y/n) at the sink.

Kuroo hesitantly opened the door, only opening it a crack and positioning himself to block the view of the apartment. “Everything okay, Bokuto?”

Bokuto gawked at the black eyes Kuroo was sporting. He then noticed the clothes he was wearing, his eyes going even wider. “Hey! I got (Y/n) that shirt!”

Kuroo hushed him, glancing back into the apartment. “How’d you find my place?”

“I asked the front desk... told em we were related.”

“Dude, that’s so fucking weird.” Kuroo shook his head, closing the door slightly. “Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to come apologize... I figured you heard what I told (Y/n) on the phone.” Bokuto sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Kuroo slowly nodded, “That’s fine and all... but if you’re here to see (Y/n) too, you should wait.”

“Why? I have a right to see her.” He grumbled.

“Because she’s still really upset.” Kuroo said sternly. “She’s not in a good place to talk to you, and you even coming here so soon after that call is really inconsiderate.”

Bokuto looked past Kuroo’s shoulder, crossing his arms. “Is she in there? Still?”

Kuroo stood taller, narrowing his eyes at Bokuto. “She is... but you’re not coming in this apartment.”

Bokuto deflated, shifting his gaze down to his feet. “Fine... I’ll be back tomorrow though.”

Before Kuroo could respond, Bokuto turned and made his way to the elevator. 

Kuroo closed and locked the door, sighing deeply before turning back to the kitchen. He stopped when he saw (Y/n) at the end of the hallway, leaned against the wall with tears in her eyes.

“That was Kou, wasn’t it?” she asked, looking up at him sadly.

He only nodded.

“I have to see him tomorrow?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Kuroo said, lightly resting his hand on her shoulder. “I can make him leave again tomorrow... but you’ll have to talk to him eventually.”

(Y/n) nodded slowly before straightening up and pushing herself off the wall. “I think I should go back to my apartment... I have to sleep on things.”

Kuroo swallowed his protests and nodded. “I have an assignment tomorrow I think I’ll need your help with... just come over after your talk, okay?”

(Y/n) only leaned up, planted a small kiss on Kuroo’s cheek, and left the apartment.

[imaginepirates]

Loving and Loved

A third part to Scarred and Scared! For @kay-maybe, who wanted some more Beckett. Well, here you have it. Featuring: an incredible amount of self-consciousness and some tender treatment. 

~3000 words

@paljonkaikenlaista @emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official

~~~~~~~

          The weeks following your capture were pleasant. Beckett had certainly found a new use for you, and you were enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit. He always had a hand on yours, and he would press light kisses to your knuckles or the back of your hand. Occasionally, when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d ask you to guide one of his hands to your cheek so he could kiss you there. Only when you were alone did he let you kiss him on the lips, and you could feel him smile when you did so.

          Currently, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes, stretching in the morning sun that streamed through the curtains. You donned your usual robe; Beckett gave you robes of all colors and levels of scandal to wear around the house. You indulged him, even if he couldn’t see you. They were comfortable, and light in the Jamaican heat. You chose one of seafoam green with little white shells embroidered across it. Fitting, you thought, given your location.

          Though Beckett owned a dining room, he hardly ever used it. You met him in his office during most mealtimes, unless he was meeting with somebody over food, which was the case more often than you might have liked.

          You visited the kitchens to get a tray filled with breakfast foods before walking back to his office. You gave the door a little push with your hip and entered, setting the food on a table in the middle of the space. He hummed, acknowledging that you were there.

          “I brought breakfast,” you told him.

          He leaned back in his chair, looking up in your direction. “I can smell that. A good thing too, because all I’ve had is tea.”

          “I figured as much.” He drank enough tea to fill an ocean. You walked over to him, helping him out of his chair and over to the table. He was getting better at walking, you noticed. It didn’t take him as long to move from place to place. Everything was slowly becoming easier for him, and you were glad to see it.

          He yawned upon reaching his seat, and you handed him a pastry. “Will you keep me company this morning?” He asked.

          “Of course.” You often did, simply sitting in a chair near him, reading a book, your hand over his. It was nice enough, and he always wore a small smile when you stayed.

          “I’ve scheduled the servants to have tomorrow to themselves. They’ll be leaving this evening.” Beckett picked at his pastry, eating small chunks at a time.

          It was the first time he’d scheduled a day off for his household servants, but you heard it wasn’t uncommon. Every month and a half or so, he’d give them a day entirely to themselves. That, of course, had been before his injury, when he’d been self-sufficient. You assumed you’d be staying with him, even if you didn’t consider yourself a servant.

          “Will you be leaving as well?” he asked.

          “Why would I? You need somebody to take care of you.”

          “I’m sure I can find someone up to the task. Besides, you haven’t been able to properly explore the city since arriving here. It’s a beautiful city; don’t let me hinder you.”

          You moved closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’re not a hindrance to me. Not you.”

          He didn’t respond, nor did you expect him to. He was unused to your compliments and assurances, and you thought it possible that he didn’t quite believe them. Over the past few weeks, he’d been shocked by your kindness, and it had clearly shown. You pitied him a little for that. How he’d grown so unused to any kind of affection baffled you. Had it really been so long since somebody had cared for him?

          You assumed, by the way things were now, that Beckett lived a solitary life. He was surrounded by his work and his domestics, but they weren’t people he shared his life with on a personal level. His thoughts and feelings were kept to himself, creating a lonely man.

          You helped Beckett back to the chair at his desk. He’d have servants to read all the papers to him and write down his responses, so you could continue your regular routine of reading by his side. You sat with a copy of Macbeth, enjoying the soft sounds of the ocean from outside. Without his sight, Beckett was primarily concerned with sound, so he made sure windows were left open so he could hear things he couldn’t see. He was at his most calm when outside, listening to cicadas and birds during the early evening. You agreed that it was less stressful than the sounds of people, and less dull than the readings of documents.

          Though you had learned, while reading, to block out the voices around you, you had a harder time ignoring your own thoughts. Lately, they had plagued you with nothing but worry and guilt. You’d been staying with Beckett for weeks with no knowledge of what was happening in the outside world. Sure, you could read the latest news from London and women’s fashion, but you wanted to know about your world. You wanted to know about piracy.

          Every time you thought about it, a pang of guilt shot through your chest. You were living a life of luxury with Beckett to provide for you, the exact same luxury you’d so hated before. This sort of wealth went against your moral code. No one person should control so much, especially if they were controlling human lives in the process, one of the many things Beckett did on a daily basis. You worried that you were changing into a new person, somebody you shouldn’t be. You were getting accustomed to living with the enemy.

          The enemy. Exactly what Beckett was, really. It hurt you to think so. You’d grown close with him- too close- and every minute with him drove you to insanity. You couldn’t decide if it was bad of you to love a person you knew was the enemy of your lifestyle. He was your opposite, and you’d been taught to hate his kind from a young age, but you found that his treatment of you was far better than most people’s. You were afraid of what this meant. If it meant giving up your old self, you weren’t sure you could stay, no matter how much you wanted to.

          In truth, you were afraid of how close you were to him.

          Evening came, and the servants were dismissed. You hadn’t been paying attention to the time, distracted with reading. Dinner came and went, and it came time to retire to your rooms. The house was strangely quiet with nobody but the two of you, and it felt entirely too big.

          You took Beckett back to his room, unsure of what to do next. With no servants to help him, you weren’t sure he could do everything himself. You were a bit nervous about leaving him alone; he had a tendency to try doing things he shouldn’t, and you were afraid he would hurt himself. He was too stubborn to admit he needed help with things, so you weren’t sure if you should bother asking him if he wanted you to stay.

          As if to prove your point, he fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat, unsuccessfully struggling to rid himself of it. You pushed his hands aside, unbuttoning it yourself. He protested slightly, but you undid the waistcoat and set it on a chair.

          “I can do that myself, you know,” he grumbled.

          “I know you can, but I can help you. For convenience’s sake.”

          “I have to be allowed to do something myself.”

          You sighed. “I know it makes you feel better to do things yourself. I just want to help you. You’re taking care of me here, and I want to care for you in return.” So saying, you pulled at the ties on his undershirt, letting the top hang open.

          “You’re rather eager to undress me, aren’t you?” A smirk played across his lips. “Shouldn’t you at least be taking your time with me?”

          “Oh, I don’t know.” You had your fingers tucked around the bottom of his shirt, tugging it upwards to get it over his head.

          Beckett’s fingers closed around your wrists, keeping your hands in place. You were startled by the quickness of his movements. He stared uncomfortably at the floor, lips pursed. You hadn’t thought he would mind your helping him, but his face said otherwise. You found yourself feeling a little hurt.

          “I can do the rest myself,” he whispered.

          “I’m sorry.” You didn’t quite understand his reluctance. He’d just been flirting with you the moment before, even though you’d meant the act as being nothing but helpful. “I hope I didn’t overstep anything.”

          “No, no,” he assured you. “I would just rather you not see.”

          “See what?” You were thoroughly confused. You’d taken off his shirt before, in the lighthouse, to apply salve to his burns. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before.

          “The burns. The scars. The obvious signs of age and the… eating habits of the upper class.” He continued to stare at the floor, as if he would see disappointment or horror on your face if he looked. As if he already could.

          “Cutler.” You spoke softly, but he flinched as if you’d hit him. “I’ve seen it all before. There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

          “I was unconscious then, so I didn’t have to deal with your reaction. I admit, I care about your opinion of me too much now.”

          His admission took you by surprise. “You don’t think I’m judging you, do you?”

          “Everyone else has.”

          “Well, I’m not everyone else.” You cupped his cheek, running your thumb across it lightly, tracing over his scars. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, pausing to whisper his name. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s said it, hasn’t it?”

          He hummed his agreement. “It sounds sweeter on your tongue than it ever did on anyone else’s.”

          You blushed a little. He still got to you, sometimes. Most of the time, actually, but you’d never admit it. “Do you trust me?”

          He hesitated. “Yes.”

          You slipped a hand under his shirt, lightly tracing over his chest and stomach. He stiffened, and his breath hitched, making you smile. “Have you let someone do this to you before?”

          “I was considerably younger.” One of his hands came to rest in your hair, his fingers tangled in it.

          When you finally lifted his shirt over his head, he gasped faintly, just enough for you to hear. He crossed his arms over his chest in what you guessed was an attempt to hide himself.

          “Don’t be afraid of me,” you whispered. You rested your hands on his chest as his arms fell to his sides. You stared for a moment at the burns covering his body before you kissed him. He let you do so eagerly, returning the kiss with a searing one of his own.

          You both pulled away a moment later, and his hands came to rest on your waist. “Are you sure you want this?” He sounded more vulnerable and unsure than you’d ever heard him.

          “I make it a point not to do things I don’t want to. As it stands, you have all my attention.”

          “Oh.”

          Suddenly, you came together again, your mouths hungry for one another. He pulled you close, fingers pressing firmly into your sides, holding you in place. You smiled into your kisses; if he liked anything, he liked control.

          He kissed you desperately, his body pressed flush against yours. The sensation was both overwhelming and delightful. You let your hands wander to his back, feeling his scars there. Your fingers found thin scars among them, clearly caused by something other than his burns.

          “What happened?” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tracing the scar.

          “Pirates.” Beckett took a shaky breath. “I was eighteen. My ship was taken by a pirate, and he had no trouble bestowing his gifts,” he said bitterly.

          Things began to make sense. No wonder Beckett hated pirates so much. “I’m so sorry.”

          “It’s not your doing.” And, as if reading your mind, he added, “I don’t hate you for who you are. I know you’re still a pirate at heart. But you’ve shown me the most tenderness I’ve ever known.”

          “I hope to continue doing so,” you answered. You lightly traced his burns with a finger. “You should get some sleep.”

          “I suppose.” He made no move towards the bed, instead preferring to let your fingers wander over his skin. “Will you join me?”           Too embarrassed to answer, you stood trying to form words that you couldn’t quite find. You knew your face must be burning red.

          “I only mean to sleep.”

          You gave an inward sigh of relief. Kissing him had been enough excitement for the evening. You weren’t sure you should do too many firsts at once. You agreed to stay, helping him to the bed and climbing in next to him. The experience was new to you, and you were unsure of what to do. Thankfully, Beckett answered your question by wrapping an arm around you when you laid down, pulling you closer to him. Your back was pressed against his chest. You considered, briefly, how indecent it was to wear nothing but a silk robe while in bed with him, but you ignored the intrusive thoughts, instead focusing on his arm around you.

          “Sleep,” he mumbled.

          You did, drifting off comfortably with Beckett next to you.

          Sunlight filtered through the curtains when you woke, and you turned over to find Beckett still asleep against you. He rubbed his eyes as you rolled over, letting go of your waist. You stretched out on the bed, then turned your attention to your bedmate. Beckett sat up sleepily, his short hair sticking up from his head. Yours wasn’t any better, you knew, but you laughed all the same.

          “And I’m sure your hair is perfectly styled,” he said after you explained your amusement.

          “I’m sure mine’s a mess. Worse than yours, because it’s longer.”

          “Shame I can’t see it. I suppose I could feel it, if I liked.” His fingers curled into your hair, and he tugged you forward suddenly, kissing you. You could feel his smirk against your lips.

          “You’re wicked,” you breathed.

          “So I’ve been told.” He pushed himself up to sit beside you and groped around his bedside table. “I don’t suppose you can see where my nightshirt went to.”

          You rolled out of bed, snatching the shirt up from off the floor where you’d left it. You handed it to Beckett, who pulled it over his head, and you sat on the edge of the bed. “Should we go to breakfast? The servants will be back by now.” You were starving, having only picked at your dinner the night before. Then, in a more panicked tone, “should I leave before they find us together like this? They might think….”

          “Oh, bugger what they think. And what of it? You’re no lady, no socially important woman. There would be no scandal anyway.”

          “I am a pirate. A few of them know that, anyway.”

          “All the better.” He stretched and patted the sheets next to him. “I don’t have to meet anyone until later this morning. Come back to bed for a while longer.”

          You slid back under the sheets. You remained sitting, but found that the covers kept your legs warm while you were in your robe. Beckett’s hand found yours, intertwining your fingers. His hands were warm, and he rubbed little circles into the back of your hand with a thumb.

          “Do you like it here?” He asked softly.

          You hesitated. Of course you did, but your thoughts wouldn’t leave you. Somehow, this was wrong, no matter how much you enjoyed Beckett’s company. “I do,” you answered after a moment.

          Beckett frowned. “Something’s bothering you.” He swallowed. “You can always tell me if my affection is uncomfortable.”

          You almost rolled your eyes. Wasn’t I the one who took off his shirt? “It’s not you,” you assured him. “I just….miss my old life. I feel like I’m betraying it, somehow.”

          “Listen to me.” He cupped your cheek, turning your face to look him in his milky eyes. “You owe that part of your life nothing. You’re allowed to grow, and change, and do new things. The old part of you doesn’t have to die for you to add more to yourself. You can be the same person you’ve always been, and you can have new things, too. You aren’t defined by one thing, and you can’t be blamed for staying with me. Why turn away comfort and security? It costs you nothing. I’m not asking for anything in return, so why leave? Nobody would blame you. You’re not doing the wrong thing.”

          “It goes against everything I’ve ever known,” you admitted.

          “Then learn something new. Learn that you aren’t betraying yourself by choosing a new path. And you don’t have to stay here, if you don’t wish to.”

          “If I left, I’d be leaving you behind.”

          “Yes. I’d rather you stay, of course.” Then, softly, “I do love you.”

          You pulled him closer, giving him a light kiss. “I know. Don’t think I would have stayed here so long if I didn’t love you in return.”

          His eyes went wide, and you couldn’t help finding his surprise to be adorable. “Oh.”

          “Have I not made it obvious?”

          “I didn’t want to assume.” A smile lit up his face. “You won’t mind staying in our current arrangement, then?”

          “I’d like nothing better.”

          You’d found a good life for yourself with him, you realized. Strange, but good.

[billhaderlovebot]

beep beep (2) - richie tozier

okay, mentions of sex, weed, and as usual, language that would make my grandmother disown me. some horror-typical blood stuff. enjoy.

@the-star-above-you @ceruleanrainblues

had it not been for richie's incredible, rugged good looks and sex appeal, as he had so tactfully put it, you were sure you would have tried to fucking murder the guy at least once, because he was infuriating at the best of times.

you'd never actually made an attempt on his life, of course, but now, as he tried to peel away from you and get out of the bed that wasn't a single but not quite big enough for two people, you almost killed him, hissing at him to lay the fuck back down right now we might die today i haven't seen you for like half my life you asshole cuddle me right now, richard.

richie, of course, as he hadn't ever been able to say no to you, smirked and shifted to lay back down, resuming the earlier position in which your limbs had become not unlike that thing where your headphones get all knotted in your bag and you can't figure out how to separate them.

"that's what i thought." you huffed, leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

this was almost surreal. being back here, and with the same man you left behind. it was like, the whole time you'd been apart, you'd only been half a person. and now you were back and he was holding you and you were one whole, functioning person again because he was your other half.

"i was just thinking, yknow." richie voiced, pressing a kiss of his own to your temple. "about, uh, your husband."

"i fucking hope not. that's not good bedroom etiquette, tozier, bedding a girl and then fantasising about her husband."

"shut up," he laughed. "no, i mean, you're... married." he noticeably recoiled at the word, and you visualised the nose-scrunch, because he was definitely scrunching his nose right now. god, you loved him so much.

"i noticed."

"yeah, but, babe, this isn't a very married thing to be doing, is it?" richie gestured to the bedclothes, which you were both very naked underneath, and also his shirt, which had ended up hanging from the door handle. there was underwear strewn about the place, and you literally did not know where your pajamas had gone. oh well.

"rich, when i made the decision to come here, i made the decision to leave there." it was true. you may not have known it at the time, but the moment you left that house you were never to return.

your husband might have been calling, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him. but any calls he made would have come through in a stream of bubbles and a faint gurgling sound, what with your phone still being back home in your bathtub. being back here just proved that this was where you were always supposed to be. with him. you slid off your wedding ring, pressing it into his palm, and it was as if a weight had been lifted.

"it's always been you, richie."

and that was enough for him.

---

bill raised his eyebrows at last night's dark purple and red hickeys that littered your throat, courtesy of a one richard tozier, before joining you where you sat in the common area. you hadn't thought to pack a turtleneck, or a scarf, at that, and so you'd have to avoid everyone's inquisitive looks and make do.

when richie emerged from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand and a matching set of hickeys, bill sighed.

"th-thought so." he said.

"huh?"

"thin w-w-walls, guys."

"it's not her fault im the best she's ever had." remarked richie, winking at bill and falling onto the couch beside you. he slung an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into him, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged. "yeah, billy, and it's not his fault he hasn't had a good lay since i dumped his ass in derry."

"hey! you didn't mean to dump my ass."

"ah, but i did, nonetheless."

"fuck you." richie teased, setting his coffee down on the table so he could pretend to argue with you properly.

"no, fuck you." you shot back.

"fuck both of you." a voice, eddie's, whined from the kitchen where richie had come from and interrupted your pretend dispute. "i mean, you kept me up all fucking night, fucking each other absolutely senseless in the room next to mine, you inconsiderate assholes."

"they haven't changed, eddie." bill groaned, rolling his shoulders and leaning back on the couch.

"i know that," said eddie "but i don't think i can deal with it, they're all fucking over each other!"

you supposed eddie was right.

richie, now realising you were here and he was with you and you were both within kissing distance of each other again after over two decades, he took every opportunity to shove you against a wall or a door or a sink or on a bed and kiss you hard. a lot. a lot. seriously, he'd sprung at least four impromtu heavy makeout sessions (with tongue) on you so far and it was only your first day here.

it was like you were teenagers again.

god, if only.

"w-we need to put a plan together." bill said firmly, clasping his hands together. you had noticed his stutter had been worse since you'd left the restaurant. not as bad as when you were kids, but still there. "w-w-we need everyone here, t-together, which doesn't include you two s-sneaking off to suck face."

"but she's got such a nice face." richie whined.

"she won't if you don't get your shit together." you heard the voice of ben hanscom (or, handsome, as richie now referred to him.) as he trudged down the stairs and joined you all in the living room. "so shut up and listen in case IT decides to tear it off her."

now, that had really freaked richie out, so he shrugged in defeat and pulled you tighter to him, kissing your forehead and holding you to his chest.

"good morning to you too, ben." you yawned, circling an arm around richie's waist and allowing him to just hold you.

what? he was fucking warm, ok.

"are you guys gonna be like this the whole time?" ben queried, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee eddie had just brought out for him.

"i think it's sweet." beverly was the next to come in, ruffling the back of her hair and rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"yeah guys, we all got hot or married, and richie got less and less familiar with his fucking shower. we should be impressed he got anywhere near her." eddie chided. a chorus of laughter arose, all of you sat around the coffee table on plush couches, and you could pretend, just for a moment, that this was all you were here for. a reunion. but you weren't.

"m-mike's meeting us later." bill explained. "we have.... stuff to do."

---

the clubhouse was almost exactly how you remembered it (save for the inch-thick layer of dust and the smell of rot and the slight water damage from what must have been 27 years of rain leaks). you'd damn near punched richie in the fucking face when he pulled that "you'll float too" bullshit. his impressions were always impeccable, but now was not the time. he'd rectified his mistake by kissing you soundly and offering one to everyone else, to which they all refused.

"reckon we could still fit?" richie echoed your own thoughts as you both stared in at the dusty old hammock you'd spent so many hours on as teenagers, nostalgia coming over you in waves.

"how much you betting, trash-mouth?" you grinned, your tongue poking out from between your teeth.

"five bucks says we can."

you looked over the stretch of fabric that ben had pinned up between the boards on the ceiling all those years ago. you could barely fit on it when you were teenagers, so there wasn't much change of it happening 20-or-so years on. "i say we can't, so, ten bucks."

"done." he said, with an air of finality, and stuck his hand out for you to shake.

"nah," you shook your head. extending your little finger instead."handshakes are for businessmen and drug dealers. pinky swear."

richie hooked his pinky around yours and flashed you his signature shit-eating grin. "get ready to cough up."

a great deal of struggling later, (richie almost bringing the fucking roof down) you were considerably warmer and ten dollars poorer. the rest of the losers stared on in disappointment because the two of you were still absolutely insane. but you had done it.

granted, you'd had to twist very close around each other to fit on, and your leg was sticking out at an odd angle, but neither of you were terribly bothered.

"ten bucks, babe."

"can't i just have sex with you?" you groaned. you hadn't brought much money with you in the first place, and you really needed a coffee and a therapeutic shop for stationary.

"how about you give me ten bucks and then i have sex with you." he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

"i think that consistutes prostitution, actually, babe." you pointed out, kissing his lips and reluctantly pressing two folded fives into his hand. "but i do expect something by way of a sexual favour later on, provided we don't die."

"guys? important stuff is going on. yknow, like, if-we-don't-do-this-we'll get-fucking-murdered stuff." you'd forgotten that the rest of them were there, and eddie had rather pulled you both out of the bubble you were existing in.

"lighten up, eds. i just got my girl back." for once, richie wasn't joking around, and the sincerity in his voice almost made you cry. eddie didn't say anything more.

but mike did. "we have to split up to find our artefacts." he chimed in, reminding you all exactly what you were there for. "we have stan's, and i have mine. you'll know what they are when you see them."

you couldn't help but feel sorry for mike. he knew so much and had everything so planned out, but at what cost? he had been waiting alone for years and years and years, knowing full well the rest of derry depended on him not giving up, even if they didn't know it themselves.

"w-we can't split." bill interjected. "it's t-too dangerous. what if one of us d-d-d-d..." he inhaled deeply, calming himself and allowing mike to put a hand on his shoulder. "what if something happens. i won't forgive myself."

"im not letting this one out of my fucking sight, mikey." richie concurred, absently drumming his fingers where they rested on your waist. "no fucking way."

"you have to do this alone. all of you." mike continued, and you knew he was right.

ben and beverly knew it, too, and had begun making their way out of the clubhouse, the maggot-eaten wood of the ladder groaning in protest underneath their feet.

"right. a-are you s-sure, mike? really?"

"positive. this is how it has to be."

------

"okay, so if you die, we can't fuck later, and i would rather like to, so, maybe don't die, please." richie was trying to make light of possibly the worst moment of his life, but it wasn't working so well, because his hands were shaking so hard that he could barely keep ahold of you.

"i'll be fine, rich." you assured him, leaning against his chest and inhaling the scent of home.

"you don't know that, y-y-you don't-- t-there's no way you can-- y-y-you're-"

you cut him off by firmly pressing your lips to his, and it did seem to calm him. the act of holding you close and feeling the rise and fall of your chest and knowing he could touch you and you were still here. you thread your fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck and allowed him to deepen the kiss, knowing he needed it.

he had always needed reassurance when you were kids, because he'd always been insecure or scared about something he couldn't remember. he always went to you first, because the whole vulnerable thing wasn't really his scene, and you were the only person who saw it. and his nightmares, god, the fucking nightmares. you hadn't seen him cry before until he woke up shaking in your bed, searching around for something to grab onto because he couldn't tell what was real or not. he cried for what seemed like hours in your arms and all you could do was hold him.

"you're stuttering worse than billy." you murmured, close enough so your lips just barely touched. "ill be fine."

his eyes searched yours desperately for any sort of truth, but he could tell that you weren't sure. that you were just as shit-scared as he was and you were holding it together for the both of you.

"fuck." was all he said.

"fuck." you agreed.

---

1994

---

"baby." richie's voice was practically ecstatic down the phone. you grinned and reached over to your shelf to turn your record player, and the cure, down.

"yes?"

"i have, like, the best idea ever."

"and what would that be?"

"so, yknow, i have like, a shit ton of pot."

"uh huh."

"and i haven't seen you in like, uh, like two days. which is, fuckin, two days too long, yknow."

"yeah, of course."

"so, what say you and me get really really stoned and wait for your grandmother to leave for bingo and have a lot, and i mean a lot, of high sex."

"trash-mouth tozier, i may just take you up on that." you smirked, twirling the bright red phone cord in between your fingers.

"oh, good, cause im already here."

richie's voice was now coming from your actual window.

you whirled round to see him perched on the fire escape like a fucking curly haired pigeon with a high libido.

"god, you do know how to make an entrance, rich, fuck me."

"ask, and ye shall receive." richie smirked, dropping his legs through your window. in two strides he was in front of you, pupils dilated and partly concealed by his dark curls. his glasses were almost falling off his nose.

the phone receiver dropped from your hand and clattered to the ground as you reached up to take them off, and-

oh, and then his tongue was inside your mouth, so the glasses fell and landed alongside the phone by your bare feet.

no matter how many times you kissed richie tozier, it never failed to surprise you just how fucking good he was at it. you found yourself rather at his mercy whenever his lips were on yours, his hands on your face or in your hair or your back trouser pockets. he'd always make a point of tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and oh my fucking god. wow.

"well i can't fucking see you now, can i?" he whined, pulling away and blinking hard in an attempt to adjust to you having taken his actual sight away.

you responded by reaching your hand around to his back pocket where you knew his silver zippo would be.

"and here i thought you loved me."

richie stuck his bottom lip out in mock sadness, but grinned about two seconds after, reaching into his other pocket and handing you a small zip-lock baggie.

"you know that i love you." you smiled, kissing his lips and edging round him to get to your bed.

"you do?" he asked.

"more than anything."

----

2016

----

the zippo lighter was much heavier than you remembered it, you thought, as you turned it over and over in your hands.

you flicked it open, but no flame arose. not as though you expected it to.

god, those years were the happiest of your life. after IT. when richie and yourself could be happy and in love and kids.

just two stupid kids in love.

and your heart ached now as you thought of all the lost years. all that time you could have spent with him, watching him grow, and growing alongside him.

but you were together again, and it was alright. it was alright, now.

"beep beep, richie's girl."

the voice that came from behind you caused your heart to plummet, and you swore it could have fallen out of your ass.

"oh, fuck no. you fuck right off, right fucking now." you steadied the shaking of your hands. you were not afraid. i mean, yes, you were, very much so. but you weren't letting It see you weak.

clenching your fists, you slowly turned to look at the space near the window from which the voice had come.

oh, fuck.

it was richie.

or it would have been, if it were normal for richie to have a huge slice across his throat and a considerable amount of his left arm missing.

blood poured like a fucking faucet from the slash, forming grotesque patterns where it fell across its shirt.

"help me, baby." it choked, hands coming up to the wound, trying desperately to hold it together. it fell to its knees before you and pleaded with you to fucking help me, please and then it was crying and in that moment it's eyes looked so fucking much like his that you almost threw up.

"no, fuck no." you were seriously, seriously about to vomit right now, but you weren't about to embarrass yourself in front of a supernatural evil entity.

"please." blood came spluttering from its mouth, and you had to commend it on its honest to god phenomenal acting. it wasn't a pretty sight, honestly, because richie in any form of pain was enough to make you want to tear out your eyes, even a fake richie. but this wasn't him.

"you got it wrong." you flipped the lighter open and closed absently, hoping to whatever god would listen that the shake in your voice wasn't noticeable.

the mock expression of fear disappeared from not-richie's face.

"m not fucking scared of you. you'll only hurt me if i let you, right?" you hoped to god that you were right, because it'd be pretty embarrassing if after all that, you were torn to shreds anyway.

and then it was gone. leaving behind, scrawled in fake richie's fake blood on the wall:

beep beep, richie's girl.

you had to admire the theatrics, really.

---

richie hadn't wanted to talk about his artefact, or where he had got it, and you knew better than to push him.

he looked so fucking tense, tears in his eyes, that you just wanted to hold him and never let go ever until the earth stopped spinning. but that wasn't an option, so:

"nap?" you suggested, reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair.

his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch.

"yeah. nap."

"rich?"

"yeah?"

"i love you."

"i love you more."

"fuck you."

"no, fuck you."

[kingsuckjin]

The Enigma of Bunny | Pt.5

Pairing: Jungkook, Yoongi, Jimin, Jin, Taehyung x reader ft. Namjoon and Hobi

Genre: fluff, angst, mystery, smut(soon), horror (later) yandere

Warnings: PTSD episode, some really cute fluff, other than that none really.

Synopsis: You find a very sick young man in an alley and out of the bottomless barrel of kindness that is your heart, you decide take him home. Only then do you realize this stranger doesn’t speak, but that’s not the only strange thing about him by far. Who is he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? And why can’t he remember anything or even speak?

Prev // next

You woke up to find him curled up on the opposite side of the bed facing you with arms laying on the stretched towards you as if they had been reaching out for you in his sleep.

His mouth was slightly open and his face looked so peaceful just like he always looked while asleep. The morning sun leaked into your room and lit his smooth face that had the perfect mix of both sharp yet rounded features, he looked almost as angelic as his personality was. You felt bad for making him worry about you last night but you couldn't help but remember how kind he was to you. He didn't deserve to worry or be sad, especially not because of you. You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch him or to move closer and give him a hug once more. You decided to wake him up before your compulsions got the best of you.

"Bunny?" You asked with sleep still stuck in your throat. He shifted in the bed at the sound of your voice.

"Hm?" His eyes opened a little and he looked around the room and then to you with tired eyes.

"Let's go do something fun today."

"Okay." He muttered as he slowly sat up in the bed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Let's buy you all the art supplies that you want." You announced.

"Why?" He looked at you with his sleepy, puffy face.

"Because I want to."

"Okay."

He got out of bed and went for his half of clothes in your dresser. You watched him pull out a few things and hoped he wouldn't try to dress in front of you again, you didn't need that kind of heart attack this early in the morning.

"Which?" He held up two shirts and you picked the black one before he strolled off towards the bathroom with his clothes while you changed in the bedroom. You put on some make up but mostly because you had it out already to cover the places on your neck that you didn't want to think about.

"Oh, wow." Jungkook seemed entranced as soon he saw you had put effort into your face. He was dressed in all black and it kind of reminded you of Yoongi but he pulled it off just as well.

He didn't take his eyes off your face as he came closer to you for a better look. His hand came up to cup under your chin, tilted your face so he could see it better.

"Pretty." He commented with a smile and then going on with putting socks on.

You immediately felt flustered.

How could he do that? How could he just say things like that so casually and then just go on with whatever he was doing?

"So are you." It slipped out of your mouth before you even knew it.

"Pretty? Jungkook?" He surprisingly laughed a little in amusement "nooo."

"You are." You had already said it, and it was the truth so it wouldn't hurt to let him know he was, everyone deserves to be told their pretty sometimes. He seemed not to think so but you knew he was wrong.

"Thank you." He said finishing with his socks and looking at you. He watched the whole time as you finished getting ready but you payed it no mind as grabbed your bag and the both of you headed out.

It was beautiful out, the sun was bright, the birds sang as happily as your heart felt and you were determined to buy him everything his big brown eyes looked too long at.

You both made it to the mall and did hours of shopping before he began to get weighed down with bags as he sipped a smoothie with his new and very adorable round glasses on. He never really asked for much, but you couldn't help but to hand him any item he looked like he might want and any item you thought would look good on him... which was everything. You could tell he loved it, appreciated it and was actually having fun.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry any of those?" You stuck your hand out to take a bag or two but he pulled them away from your reach.

"No, I carry." His reply was defensive but confident and you knew that even if the bags had been yours he would still carry them like he did when you both were out shopping with Yoongi.

He offered you a drink of his smoothie and you gladly took a sip now regretting not getting one yourself. You decided to go back to the food court and get one and also have a rest at the tables because even though his arms were beefy, they still had to be tired from carrying all that stuff at this point.

"Tired?" He asked you as he sat across from you with his elbow on the table and hand propping his head up and squishing his cheek into the glasses, it was adorable.

"Not yet. You tired?"

He shook his head "no"

"A little longer then?"

He nodded with satisfaction.

As you sipped your drink you caught him staring at you for a moment before giving you a smile. You reached forward and brushed the hair from his eyes that had been bothering you.

"Noona?" He asked and looked down at the straw of his smoothie he was using to slowly stir and play with what was left. "Do you... do you really... think... I pretty?"

You held back a smile of slight embarrassment at his question. You didn't think he had thought anything of your accidental dumb compliment earlier, but you guessed he might've been thinking about it after all.

You did really think he was, and you weren't going to lie about it if it made him feel good.

"Handsome may be a better fitting word since you're a male, but yeah. I do. I wonder if you had a girlfriend before this." You stared off at one of the food stands.

"I think... I think I was... lonely. I remember lonely... I don't really remember I just-"

At hearing this your eyes snapped back to him looking sad at his smoothie. You thought about what he was trying to say for a moment

"You have a feeling?"

He nodded quickly

"I try... to remember and all I can is lonely. Just alone. Just know."

Your eyes carefully watched him still stirring his drink.

"So you don't remember anything?"

"No. Only lonely." He looked to be thinking hard "it was... bad lonely, and scared."

"You don't have to be anymore, no more scared, no more lonely." You whispered to him and his eyes flicked up from his drink to you at your words.

"You too." He looked you in the eyes.

He had to know, how you were before all of this, but how? Maybe he could now see that you were just a scared little lonely shut in.

"Hey, look who it is again!"

Yours and Jungkook's eyes looked over at the tall figure that was now looming over your table.

"Oh. Hi." You looked up at the handsome man.

He took the liberty of pulling up a chair and having a seat by you and Jungkook. You took a deep breath to try to rid yourself of the slight annoyance you felt for him now.

"Uh, Jin this is Jungkook, Jungkook, this is Jin." You gave a nervous introduction. You had no idea how either of them would react, especially Jungkook.

Jungkook stuck out his hand and Jin took it to shake like it was just a normal encounter.

"So I can't believe I'm running into you again, maybe my offer of catching up was meant to happen." Jin turned to you and chuckled. You glanced at Jungkook taking a drink of his smoothie and lifting a brow at you before looking away from you and Jin completely and clearing his throat. You knew he felt awkward, you felt it too but you felt that way because of your last interaction with Jin. So why did he seem to feel that way?

"I mean, isn't it crazy us running into each other again? It's practically fate, plus you know how much fun we always had in university." Jin continued to go on.

None. You had zero fun with him because he always ditched you... unless he still thought you were his ex.

"Hmm I don't recall anything that fun." You don't know how you got brave enough to say something that, but you did. Honestly you just wanted him to leave you alone so you could just hang out with Jungkook again.

"Oh come on now, I always use to come over but you were always busy writing papers and things."

So he did remember, but you guessed he didn't remember that all those papers you were writing were for him because you had a crush on him and he was failing.

"And as I recall we always had a bit of a thing for each other." He gave you a wink.

Jungkook choked on his smoothie before giving Jin a glare which he didn't even seem to see because he was too caught up in you. Maybe back then you had it bad for Jin, but you knew he never felt the same about you. So why was he pretending now he had always liked you when last time you saw him he called you by the wrong name? You looked at Jungkook and he caught it.

"I don't know about that either." You told Jin suppressing an eye roll.

Jungkook was now wordlessly dragging his chair very close to you with a loud head turning screech of the legs on the mall tile. He took your hand that had been laying on the table limp, threaded his fingers through yours and set your interlocked hands down on the table and staring Jin down wordlessly. Jin looked at your hands with surprise so did you, he glanced back yo to the both of you.

"Oh." Jin let out. "I apologize." He spoke directly to Jungkook "I didn't mean to intrude on your date."

You were so shocked by Jungkook's hand in yours you couldn't speak and neither did Jungkook.

"You're a cute couple. Um, good seeing you again y/n" Jin said before getting up and promptly leaving, cheeks and ears reddened with embarrassment... and possibly a tinge of jealously? You looked at Jungkook and he looked back at you stifling a smile by pressing his lips together firmly.

"How did you know? What even just happened?" You couldn't help but laugh now

"You looked... not happy. I saw it on tv, so did it." He informed you. Of course the little move had come from one of his dramas, that fact only made you laugh harder.

"Well thank you. Last time I talked to him he called me by the wrong person's name."

"Not good, not good y/n." He grinned as he called you by your real name for the first actual time letting you know he remembered it of course.

"You want go home now so we get away from him here?" He offered.

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

As you stood you realized your hands were still locked together as he casually picked up his bags and drink with his free hand.

"Jungkook... my hand?" You looked down at your hands and so did he.

"Oh. Oh yeah." He seemed to realize it but smirked as he only gripped it tighter.

"Lets go." He didn't acknowledge it again.

You swore that all these little things he did so bravely and smoothly were actually an attempt at ending your life.

It was a quiet and comfortable walk home with you two just enjoying the cool night air instead of the heat of the day. It was more a leisurely stroll than anything. You don't know when he had decided to let go of your hand, but he had to your relief and also dismay.

"Noona?" He spoke after a long, comfortable period of quiet. "Can we go in water... with each other. Like uhhh big bath like so much water?"

"Like a pool?" You guessed at his word charades.

"Pool." He repeated.

"You want to go swimming?"

"Yeah, I think."

"Alright, if you want to we will."

"And songs. I want songs too." He looked up dreamily at the sky.

"You want to listen to music, you can do that when we get home." You watched the way his eyes lit up behind the round glasses that reflected the light of the shops you walked past.

You noticed just now that you were referring to your apartment as home for both of you, but it was though now. You shared a dresser, a bathroom, a kitchen. His toothbrush and things were right there with yours on the bathroom counter, his clothes went into the laundry with yours, he had a favorite bowl for his morning cereal that he washed out himself everyday and everything. It was both of your home now and you were fine with that. You had accepted it long before you noticed you had.

You felt the warmth of his hand seeking out again yours before he slid his fingers between yours. This time it was a real gesture. There was no act to put on for anyone else by holding your hand, it was just for you, for him to wordlessly show you in more than chopped up words how he felt.

----

You had already set Jungkook up with headphones and your laptop and he was listening to k-pop when Yoongi showed up. You simply sighed as you let him in.

"Listen, I just want to apologize for last night. It's your life and obviously I'm not the boss of you and I shouldn't have tried to get you to talk about it. That's all I wanted to say."

"I understand Yoongi, you were worried." You let him in the house and glanced at Jungkook who was both drawing and listing to music in his own little world.

"Well I didn't say that..." he muttered "but, you're right, yeah, I was." He gave a sigh as he admitted.

"You tried to tell me. I wasn't really mad at you as much as I was mad at myself and you being right. Thank you for apologizing but you didn't need to, it's alright. Oh, while you're here, you want to have dinner with Jungkook and I tomorrow? I'll make us something nice." You offered to try to make amends, of course you forgave him, you understood that he had just been worried and for someone to actually worry about you meant a lot to you.

"Yeah, I'd like that. What time?"

"Around six as usual."

"I'll be here." He had taken the offer.

After he left you decided you needed a bath to soothe your sore aching legs from all the walking today and you gave Jungkook a look who still seemed busy so you didn't bother with him.

You sat in the warm bath thinking about the whole day and the thing that happened with Jin. You thought it was funny really as it replayed in your head. Before you knew it the bathroom door swung open and Jungkook walked in and right away noticed you.

You both froze in place and let out a yell. You scrambled to cover what you had to with your hands.

"Sorry! Sorry so sorry!" He said quickly but made no effort to leave or even shield his eyes, he just stood there in panic mode with wild, wide eyes at your body.

"Just get out!" You yelled in panic and he ran out and he shut the door behind him.You knew he had just seen you fully naked even though you had tried to cover yourself fast, you didn't think it did much to help.

He had never panicked getting naked in front of you before so why was it so weird the other way around? You thought he had looked so wide eyed and he had stared as he had apologized.

You sighed as you thought about the embarrassing moment you had just experienced. Your face heated up as you let your head fall back and bump itself against the edge of the bathtub, cursing your self for not making it a habit to lock the door.

You stayed in there a while just hoping he would forget about it or you both could but the water was beginning to get cold and your phone on the sink was now ringing.

You quickly got out, wrapped a towel around yourself and answered the phone not even looking at the screen as you dried off.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby, Friday I'm announcing you're the new head of the marketing team so you might want to stop by work. I added a little bonus to your bank account as well."

Taehyung's deep voice made your stomach lurch in the worst way.

"Um, thank you... sir."

"You know what I like hearing. I'll see you Friday darling." He hung up. You still hated hearing his voice.

You walked out of the bathroom and were met with awkward conversation number two, you hoped this one would be as short as the last.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook blurted out from the sofa still looking shaken and wide eyed.

"Look, it's fine, it happens. I've seen you naked... kind of... and now you've seen me. We live together, it's inevitable." You told him as well as yourself.

"It's... its' okay?"

"Yeah but I mean wouldn't feel great with you just barging in again." You explained avoiding eye contact and feeling weird about the conversation.

"I-I really didn't know..." he tried to defend himself again.

"I understand." You assured him and decided a subject change would maybe help "Oh, hey, Yoongi is having dinner with us tomorrow after we get back from swimming."

"Swimming tomorrow? Really?" His face now brightened with excitement.

"Yeah, if you still want to we can."

"I do! Thank you noona."

He then patted the spot next to him on the sofa so you took the chance to sit down with him while he watched tv and you did some work, feeling more and more tired until eventually your eyes strained to stay open.

You felt movement beside you and your face pressed to something warm, it made you relax, it smelled sweet.

"Noona." Was whispered to you and you let out a groan from being nice and comfortable and not wanting to be disturbed.

Suddenly you were shifted much more. You had to re-position your face to where it had found it's nice, warm spot again. Something soft came up under you and your face was no longer where you liked it.

"Goodnight, noona." The warmth was now completely taken away from you.

"Bunny." You muttered tiredly and reached a hand out with your eyes still closed and sleep fogging your brain. Your hand touched the warmth and smoothness you wanted and pulled it down to you. The bed let out a groan as it sank in beside you. You grabbed onto as much comforting warmth and the sweet smell as you could and laid your face back on it and fell right back to sleep.

You woke up with your cheek on Jungkook's arm, holding onto it for dear life as he slept next to you, head crooked to lay on the top of yours. You guess that had explained last night. you smiled when you figured out that he had carried you to bed and you dragged him in with you. You turned your head and found yourself looking at him for the billionth time. He had become so familiar to you in such a short time, what would happen if he was taken away from you? If you were ripped away from him? What would he do? What would you do?

You would miss him, you knew you would.

You would miss him quietly watching his shows or drawing with his concentrated face. Or his smile when you complimented him and how excited he got when he got what he wanted. Or his hugs when you left him and came back. You would miss your calls of nooona! Coming from across the house. There was no way anyone could make him go, right? He wouldn't want to go, right? What if he had a good life before all this though? What if they cared for him more than you. What of he remembered it all and wanted to go home? Of course you'd let him, of course you wanted him happy.

His face twitched in his seep and you found it cute.

Who wouldn't want him to be happy?

He twitched again and began to whine and then mutter.

"Please?" He asked still very much asleep "Don't. Please don't." He was now begging and then began to squirm.

You sat up in the bed

Something was wrong.

"Bunny?" You whispered. "Bunny, it's okay, I'm here." You slid your hand into his and his whines and quiet pleads turned into cries and screams and thrashing, ripping his hand right from yours on the process.

"Bunny! Bunny! It's okay! Wake up!" You were terrified by his yelling and thrashing once again, you felt almost helpless. "Please, it's okay. "

He sat straight up with wide eyes, breathing heavy.

He looked so shocked and scared. You said nothing for a moment just to let him take in his surroundings.

"Bunny?" You asked as he lowered his head. "Another bad dream?"

You watched as he still said nothing, he didn't even acknowledge you were there or speaking to him.

You weren't sure whether or not to touch him but you just wanted yo help him relax and let him know you were here. You pet the back of his head to try to calm him, the gesture of light touch had seemed to calm him last time. He took you other hand and held it tightly in his, he had finally acknowledged you and let you know he needed you now. You heard him gulp between rough breaths and wondered if he was crying. You thought about getting him a glass of water but you didn't want to leave his side. This time seemed so much worse than the last, he looked so much more visibly shaken with his head hung, it looked to you like you had just pulled him from something so horrifying and so real to him.

That's when it finally occurred to you.

You wondered if this was it, if these nightmares were the possible PTSD attacks the psychologist said might happen.

You got your answer when he broke down into loud, uncontrollable sobs.

You now understood the hand gesture he had made when you had cried the other day. He wasn't just trying to find the words for the term heart crushing,

he had truly felt it, it was the exact feeling he had felt in his chest and now you knew because you now felt it too. The moment he began sobbing helplessly with his head down you had felt the sudden crushing and it wouldn't let up as your mind begged your body to hold him to ease both your pain.

"Oh Bunny, come here." You said sadly and half dragged him into you as he scooted into your arms that you wrapped around him.

He sat between your legs and wrapped his arms around you too with his head in the crook of your neck letting his almost scalding feeling tears fall onto your skin.

You leaned your head on his as you rubbed his back and shushed him calming him like a crying baby.

"Everything is alright. I'm here, you're home." You told him "Jungkook is sweet and kind, and funny and deserves the whole world." You whispered reassurances to him just like he had with you "I'd never let anything bad ever happen to you, I swear." You didn't even know until after you did it, but you had kissed the side of his head, nothing was said about it, nothing needed to be said.

Even after he was done crying you still held him just to make sure.

He kept silent, something just felt so off about him, you could just sense it.

Again, you weren't about to ask him what he had a dream about or if he remembered anything. You figured he would let you know when he wanted to, but now you were determined to make today a good one for him. You didn't want to see him cry anymore.

----

He sat there on the sofa with puffy eyes and a pink nose from crying looking rather angry staring at nothing with the hood of his hoodie up.

He didn't want to eat when you made breakfast.

He wasn't acting like himself at all and you gave him some space for a while but when he spent hours just sitting there looking angry, you felt like you had to finally do something about it.

You remembered what the therapist had told you about mood swings and volatile behavior in people with PTSD.

"Bunny?" You called softly from just a few feet away but he just sat there. "Bunny, are we going swimming today?"

"I don't want to." His sentence was on point, albeit angry, but he still didn't look at you. You hadn't seen him this upset yet and it kind of scared you a little but you knew he wouldn't hurt you.

"Please Bunny?"

"No." His one word was strong.

There was some sort of angry fire in his dark eyes that he wouldn't look at you with, that he was trying to hide from you and you didn't know how to extinguish it.

You slowly walked over to him and it still failed to get his attention so you knelt down in front of him between his knees and looked up at him making him look at you face to face.

Your eyes searched his still angry ones hoping there was something you could do. You reached up and carefully pulled back his hood and his face melted from angry to sad like yours probably reflected. He finally looked back at you, really looked at you now, as your fingers ran though his hair, pushing the shaggy locks back from his face.

"Isn't there anything I could do?" You asked desperately. His expression looked even more pained before he gave in and leaned in and laid his head on your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his.

You had no idea what he was going though but you just felt so terrible, it felt crushing.

He let out a sigh before speaking and this time without anger.

"I just don't feel like going today, noona."

This sentence was perfect too, there was no sputtering or looking for words. It all flowed like it had never before.

You realized that he might've gotten a piece of himself back if not all of himself and that had to be hard, overwhelming, emotional. If that was what he was going though, you thought it would be tough for your dumb little gestures to fix.

"I understand, Bunny." Your voice was quiet as you let your fingers drift through his soft hair still. These dumb little gestures were all you had to try to pull him from this state.

When he lifted his head there was some sort of unexplained sadness behind it, but he didn't cry again.

You climbed up on the sofa with him and propped yourself against him as you took out your laptop and worked. His head leaned on your shoulder and his hand softly around your upper arm as his thumb rubbed slow circles on your skin. It all just felt so natural as a comfortable silence settled over the both of you and he turned on the tv after a while.

The feeling hit you again, something was just... so different about him and you couldn't explain it. Unfortunately, his silence lasted all day and you just couldn't make him feel better. You asked him later if it was still okay for Yoongi to come over for dinner.

"Of course." Was his answer.

Yoongi came over barring beer and pizzas, more than one because he knew how Jungkook ate. You were happy to see him finally eating but he was still strikingly silent. When you and Yoongi opened yourselves a beer, Jungkook took one as well and nonchalantly cracked it open.

"Jungkook, I don't feel right about providing alcohol to a possible minor." Yoongi told him.

"Hes obviously over eighteen, he's alright. Plus he's not having a great day." You informed wanting to let it slide.

"That what's wrong with him?" Yoongi questioned obviously having noticed "He's being awfully quiet. I didn't even hear a cheerful 'Yoongi!' When walking through the door."

"I'm okay." Jungkook said not taking his eyes off the tv. He wasn't okay and you knew it and knew he didn't want to talk about it so you changed the subject.

"I'm going to put the drinks in the refrigerator they stay col-"

"Got it." Jungkook jumped up from his seat taking the the alcohol with him.

"What happened?" Yoongi whispered but you just shrugged.

Jungkook came back with a new beer cracking it open. We all went through a few, but Jungkook went through just a few more.

"Oh hey Yoongs, would you be willing to come keep Jungkook company in the morning while I go into work. I'm now the head of marketing?" Your announcement was dry and lacking excitement and reflected the confusion you felt about it.

"Oh come on, don't go back in there." Yoongi sighed.

"It will be fine, its just work."

"Yeah, I'll hang out with-"

Yoongi was interrupted.

"I'll be okay alone." Jungkook spoke up again furthering your strange feeling.

"I don't know..." You were apprehensive of course.

"It's fine." He urged.

"I mean I'm right next door if he needs anything." Yoongi pointed out.

You knew it had to start sometime, he had to have some independence.

"No begging me not to go?" You asked Jungkook who finally looked at you. You could see him, the real him for the first time today in his amused eyes.

"Want me to?"

His joking offer made you smile. He didn't even wait for you to answer before he begged playfully "Don't leave me, noona." He gave you a bit of a smile and it was the first one you had seen from him all day.

"Yeah, don't go noona." Yoongi jokingly agreed but you knew he actually didn't want you to. You elbowed him for calling you noona.

"I have to, boys, it's work. How else am I going to keep this boy in expensive hoodies?" You nodded towards Jungkook and your joke made Yoongi laugh knowing it was true.

"Don't blame it on him when you have a thing for expensive shoes." Yoongi scoffed. "Don't think I didn't notice those Louis Vuitton's when you went to work the other day. Its the only nice thing you buy yourself."

You shushed Yoongi and looked over to Jungkook who was hiding a laugh by bringing a bottle to his lips.

"Don't laugh at me." You now elbowed Jungkook to your other side to keep him smiling.

"It's true." He agreed with Yoongi and once you were sure that Yoongi teasing you had made him feel better, he was jumping from a sudden knock at the door. You let out a groan not wanting to get it.

"Want me to get it?" Yoongi offered.

"Pleeease." You whined out of laziness.

Jungkook staring at you caught your eye and even when you looked at him he didn't look away, distracting you from Yoongi answering the door for a moment. You couldn't stop yourself from staring into his eyes, he had entrapped you in his unexpected gaze. He had stared at you before with his wide eyed deer like observant eyes, but this was something else entirely, this was an entirely new breed of stare from him. What surprised you most was how your body reacted to it. Your skin suddenly felt hot, your mouth dry, your heartbeat spiked as tingles ran rampant through your spine and body making your head fog over and cease proper thinking about anything else that wasn't him at the moment. Your brain was overloaded and you didn't even notice when a very, very quiet whimper had left your mouth until you heard it, processed it, and recognized it as your own. Had he heard it? Your question was answered when he smirked in response. Just from this one gesture your mouth fell open a bit as you tried to wrap your head around this silent exchange. Your head spun faster and faster.

He was leaning in, slowly so close, closer, closer... Jungkook wrapped his arms around your arm and rested his head on your shoulder turning back on the cute and cuddly in the blink of an eye. He dropped the hug but left his head on your shoulder, leaving you wondering if what had just happened had really happened at all.

"Look, I was just leaving. Why are you here so late anyway, Jimin?" Yoongi's voice wasn't at all kind but rather bitchy and it broke through the moment.

"It hurts that I wasn't invited to the party." Jimin pouted as he peered in and saw the beer bottles and pizza boxes on the table and Jungkook on the sofa with you. "I was just being avoided and wanted to know why."

"It's not a party and she works a lot, Jimin, she doesn't have a lot of time for this stuff and I wanted to treat them both." Yoongi sighed but you felt bad although thankful he was making excuses for you.

"I'll make it up to Jimin, okay? I'm really sorry." You called to him.

"Alright!" He peered over Yoongi to say as he gave you a finally satisfied smile.

"Bye Jimin." Yoongi's vice held no enthusiasm as he closed the door with obvious annoyance. Jungkook peeled himself off of you as Yoongi locked the door and came back to sit down with you.

"What's up with you two and your dislike for him?" You wondered out loud.

"Well for one he's annoying and-"

"Fake." Jungkook stated in a harsh tone, you tried to figure out where he might've learned the word.

"Exactly." Yoongi pointed to Jungkook.

"How's he fake? I think he's nice." You just couldn't see whatever they thought they saw. It offended you a little that they were mistaking his niceness for fakeness.

Yoongi gave a shrug."I don't know, he's just got this thing about him. He seems like such a try hard."

You didn't like them judging him nor their unfounded accusations towards his personality. "Guys, that's not nice."

"Says the girl who told me she has a crush on him and is falling for his crap." Yoongi retorted and Jungkook's head quickly snapped to you. "I know you've been on some dates with him."

"What, are you watching my apartment now?" You kind of snapped right back at him.

"No, he's bragged about it to me in passing."

"Dating me isn't really something to brag about." You laughed at how stupid it was.

"So why's he bringing it up to me when I go to check the mail? I don't care but I think he thinks I do."

"Do you?" You asked but his only reply was a scoff and him standing back up with a stretch.

"I'm getting out of here before he shows back up wanting to know why you haven't talked to him since he left."

"So you'll be on call just in case tomorrow?" You decided to make sure and remind him.

"Yup, sure will." He gave you a nod.

Once he left silence hung in the air between you and Jungkook. He finished his beer and sat back with his eyes on the tv in the dark room with only the kitchen light on in the other room.

You felt like it was a game of who was going to crack first and speak.

You were determined to get him to talk first, to come to you, and he did.

"I still don't know what happened to me." He looked down to the empty bottle in his hands, speech still so perfect it jarred you. "I still don't remember."

To your surprise he now wanted to talk about it, and he seemed to be talking just fine in fact.

"But I do know now that I'm not struggling with words anymore. It feels like a weird haze was lifted." He looked at you now "and there's so many things I want to ask now that I know how. So many things I'd like to say to you that I couldn't."

Yes, it was shocking to hear him speak but it was also a joyful moment, so happy that you felt like you might cry. You had no idea what to say, but you felt like you had said enough for the both of you in your time so far with him, you wanted to let him speak now.

Tag list: If you want added to the tag list just let me know so you can receive notifications when a new part comes out.

@rikkafunthepureone @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sam-moss @minyoongi-infiresme @appreciatethefoolishness @im-emo-motherfuckers @sugajinny @loserjeonjk @savanna-1 @bulletproof-points @ddaengyoonmin @sugasheart @io-is-lame

[zackcollins]

like a train through a house of glass ch. 2 || carter hart

chapter 1

Author’s Note: Well. I’m apparently in a mood to write because I finished chapter 2 on the same night as chapter 1. To space things out a little, I scheduled this to be posted today at 11:00 am instead of last night when I finished it. I just didn’t want to overwhelm you with content since I’ve written like. 2 complete one-shots and now 2 chapters of this in less than 5 days. I know a lot of you love my writing, but I really don’t want to smother you or something. If you actually want me to post stuff as fast as I finish it, let me know because I will, in fact, do that if it’s what you want. I want to keep my readers happy! GIF credit goes to the original creator!!

Warnings: The same mention of the paralysis as last time. It doesn’t just evaporate; paralysis doesn’t roll like that... usually. There’s a brief mention of both Carter and the reader being disrobed but it’s nothing serious. If you want a spoiler, they’re disrobed for a shower, not anything naughty or explicit. Once again, there’s a swear word or two if that bothers you.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Title: Crash by Chad Brownlee

Additional: It was a little harder this time but I managed to make the language gender-neutral again!! I started the train on that track and I plan to keep it there. The Leafs will win the Stanley Cup before I derail the train. The Leafs can please win the Stanley Cup though... Leafs fan 5ever.

You jolted awake when you heard the Flyers goal horn blaring in the bedroom. Rubbing your eyes, you noticed that the bed was empty. Wiggling toward the nightstand, you grabbed Carter’s phone and turned the alarm off. It was then that you heard the shower in the en suite.

“Ah, there’s my sleepyhead,” Carter said, appearing in the doorway of the bathroom. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, save for his shower shoes.

“Honey, hey,” you yawned, stretching your arms above your head. You ran your fingers through your hair, cringing at how dry and brittle it felt. “Do you have time to help me shower?”

Nodding, Carter made his way across the room. He slid the blanket off you before hooking an arm under your legs and one under your shoulders. 

“Ready, (Y/N)?” Carter asked, looking cautiously at you. No matter how many times you had done this in the last month, he was always scared he would drop you.

As you nodded, Carter lifted you off the bed and into his arms. To help steady him, you swung your arms around his neck; that levelled Carter’s centre of gravity a little, making the walk to the bathroom smoother.

When you arrived in the bathroom, Carter placed you on your stool. He bent down, hooking his fingers in the waist of your pyjama pants. At the same time that he pulled your pants off, you pulled your shirt over your head. 

When he moved you from the stool to the shower seat, you melted into the heat of the water.

“Fuck… that feels so good on my shoulders,” you said, rolling your shoulders to prove your point.

Carter took some of the body wash and squirted it into his palms. He lathered it along the front of your body, making sure to dig extra hard in the wrinkle crevices.

By the time Carter was done lathering the front of you with the body wash, parts of you were tingling from the pressure he had placed on you; parts of you that you had previously thought to be completely broken.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you held your head in your hands. Carter bent down, rubbing along your shoulder blades.

“Babe,” Carter stated, looking at you concerned. “Are you alright? Is this about not being able to do most of this yourself again?”

Shaking your head, you looked hesitant at Carter. “Move your hand below my stomach and press as hard as you can.”

Confused, Carter obeyed the command. Even with the heat from the shower, his hand left a giant red mark on your skin. You immediately started crying harder, leaning what you could toward Carter. Carter, still confused, held you as you cried.

You cried while the water went cold. You cried while Carter turned the water off. You cried while Carter towelled you off. You cried while Carter put you in fresh clothes. You only stopped crying when Carter got your shoes on to leave for practice.

“I felt it when you pressed your hand into my back,” you whispered as Carter was tying one of your shoes.

Fumbling the lace, the knot he had been tying came undone in his hand. Carter dropped the lace and looked at you. Your eyes met with dual looks of hope; both of you smiled. Carter wrapped you in a hug, kissing you once you broke apart.

“That’s amazing, (Y/N),” Carter said, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. “Do you want me to call the doctor to schedule an appointment sooner than the one you already have?” He leaned back down to tie your shoe. 

“If you think you could get me in sooner,” you smiled, running your fingers through Carter’s hair. 

When he finished tying your shoes, he stood back and opened the door for you. Smiling, you wheeled yourself out. As you both made your way toward the parking garage, Joel flagged you down.

“Carter, (Y/N),” he said, panting. “Could you give me a ride today? I can’t find my license anywhere.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Carter smiled, motioning Joel toward the parking garage.

“You’re lifesavers.” Joel squeezed both you and Carter on the shoulder. You chuckled and Carter rolled his eyes.

When you got to Carter’s car, you looked between your boyfriend and Joel. Joel smiled, looking at Carter.

“I got this,” he said, swinging the car door open. “You do it all the time; it’s about time someone else had a turn.”

Carter blinked as he locked the wheels of your wheelchair. “I do it all the time because I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend; it’s kinda my job.”

Joel hooked an arm under your legs and one under your shoulders. “Still. Even boyfriends deserve a break every once in a while.” Joel smiled as he lifted you from your wheelchair smoothly. You and Carter shared a flabbergasted look when Joel effortlessly transitioned you from his arms to the car. “And there you go.”

“Thanks, Joel,” you said, smiling as you buckle your seatbelt. 

Joel gave a cheeky grin and some finger guns in response before turning to your wheelchair. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. When Joel bent down to release one of the folding mechanisms in your wheelchair, you noticed that Carter was looking at you with pure, unadulterated horror. All you could do was shrug and laugh dismissively. Carter did chuckle at that which made a soft sensation fill your stomach. You blinked and grabbed your stomach.

“Uh… (Y/N)?” Joel sounded confused when he spoke.

You snapped your head in his direction, noticing him and Carter giving you lopsided stares. Moving your hands from your stomach, you ran one hand down your face and the other along the back of your neck.

“Sorry, it’s just…” you trailed off, unsure if you wanted Joel to know this. You weren’t as close with Joel as you were with some of the other guys. If you were honest with yourself, you had always pictured Travis or Nolan being the next person to find out any big news about your current situation. Sighing, you decided Joel deserved as much respect as anyone on the team; he had lifted you into the car and that had to account for something.

“You know that I’m paralyzed from about the stomach down, right?” You asked; you wanted to make sure Joel knew the exact parameters of the situations. 

“Yeah, why?” Joel responded, leaning against the car. “Carter has mentioned it several times. He talks about how much he loves you and how caring for you is preparing him to be a father.”

Whatever you wanted to say to Joel instantly died on your tongue. You looked at Carter who was decidedly not looking at you. He was staring at his shoes and fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie.

Joel coughed which caused Carter to look at you. He had a look on his face that was halfway between embarrassment and sincerity. You blinked, feeling tears making their way to the surface. You quickly wiped them away before averting your glance from Carter and Joel.

“Is everything okay?” A voice echoed through the parking garage. Your upper torso jolted a little out of fear. 

Carter and Joel turned their attention toward the direction of the voice, both raising a hand in salute. You tilted your head in confusion. When the person appeared beside Carter, you relaxed and smiled at them.

“Morgan, hi,” you said, raising a hand in greeting.

Morgan smiled, waving at you. “(Y/N)! How’re you feeling? Is your injury healing okay? Carter said you were still waiting on the results of your last CT scan.”

“The doctor called earlier,” you bit your lip, looking past Morgan. Carter was standing there, nodding. Focusing your attention back to Joel and Morgan, you breathed shakily. “She said the injury wasn’t as bad as originally thought. I went from 5% to 50% probability of regaining at least a partial feeling of my lower extremities.” 

Morgan grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you!”

Instead of squeezing your hands, Joel squeezed your midsection. You gave him a questioning eyebrow which turned thankful when you felt a pinprick sensation in your belly button. Joel noticed the look on your face, this time grabbing your hand. He squeezed and at the same time, he squeezed your shoulder.

“I hope this works out for you,” Joel said, leaning out of the car and making his way into the passenger seat. Once he was in and had his seatbelt buckled, he looked over his shoulder at you. “The guys love you; Carter loves you. You deserve this.”

You glanced at Morgan; he was nodding. “Joel is right. We all love you, (Y/N). Carter especially. You’re the best thing to happen to him since he won World Junior gold.” Morgan squeezed your shoulder before walking away.

Looking at Carter, you noticed that his face was decidedly red because he had been crying. 

“Morgan!” You called out, hoping he would hear you. When he appeared in front of you, you heaved a sigh of relief. “Could you drive us to practice today? Carter needs to sit with me and Boo Boo the Fool there lost his license.” You made a vague gesture in front of you. Joel grunted but made no word of disagreement with your statement.

Nodding, Morgan grabbed the keys from Carter. Carter mumbled something that you didn’t hear; Morgan smiled which lead you to believe he had heard whatever it was. Before Morgan walked to the driver seat, he closed the door for you. You thanked him to which he hummed his appreciation. A moment later, Carter appeared in the seat beside you. You jolted because you hadn’t seen him move from his spot outside the car. Carter mumbled an apology; you shrugged it off because you weren’t angry at him. As soon as Carter and Morgan were buckled in, Morgan began the drive to practice.

Carter leaned against you, placing his head on your shoulder. You brought your arm around him, carefully rubbing his side. Carter hummed, nuzzling closer. You noticed Joel’s eyes and a soft smile in the rearview mirror. You smiled softly back, giving him a thumbs up. 

On the ice, Carter might be rough and tumble. When he was at home with you, he was the exact opposite. He was the personification of soft and sweet. As much as he cared for you, he needed his own level of care. You were happy to oblige that to whatever extent you were able; you wanted this relationship to be mutually beneficial. Carter knew the kind of care you needed; you never knew what kind of care he needed which is what usually made Carter the one that was the needier of the two of you.

None of that mattered to you though. You loved him and he loved you. You had been making this relationship work for a year before the accident; the accident had just caused new challenges that you would have to work through. For the most part, you were handling it pretty well.

While Carter laid with his head on your shoulder and two of his teammates sat in the front seats, you couldn’t help but think of how vulnerable this made you feel. You had never been one to show any level of affection in front of other people. You had always reserved your affections with a partner for when it was just the two of you.

As all that was going through your head, another thought was right alongside it: you didn’t care who saw anymore. You loved Carter and he loved you. It shouldn’t matter what other people thought; if they can’t handle Carter dating someone in a wheelchair then they aren’t worth either of your time.

You pressed a kiss to the top of Carter’s head and let the thoughts permeate. You would be sharing them with Carter soon; it was about time that people outside of the team knew about your relationship. Carter had friends on other teams.

You were ready to tell them.

[idiosinkrasies]

power outage

(John's POV)

"You know what I haven't done in like, forever?" My best friend, Smii7y, asks me while we're on a discord call together after a recording session.

"What?" I ask in response to his previous question.

"Had a sleepover. Like a real one, with movies and staying up late and all of that stuff." He says like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And now that I think about it, the last time I had been to a sleepover was in 8th grade.

"Huh, now that you mention it, same here." After a few moments of comfortable silence, he decides to speak up.

"You wanna have a sleepover? I can be at your place in under an hour." (pretend they live in the same state and country for that matter.) He says suddenly, making my eyes widen slightly at his request.

"Uhh, sure, I'll see you in an hour or less, then?"

"Hell yeah, you will, biotch, later John!" He says and ends the call before I can say anything. I sit back in my chair and look around at my room, my messy room.

"I need to clean this shit up," I say to myself, getting up and making my way down to the kitchen to fill up my water bottle before heading back up to get everything ready for tonight.

Timeskip like 50 minutes

"Aaaaaaaand done!" I say, putting the last pillow on the now made guest bed. I look up and around the room to see all the work that was done, only to hear the sound of rain hitting the roof and windows. Huh. I must have been to busy with cleaning to notice the rain.

"I hope Smitty has an umbrella," I say to myself, wondering if he was caught in the rain or not.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of my doorbell. Speak of the devil and he shall come, I guess. I make my way through the house and over to the door. I open it only to be greeted by a sopping Smitty, who looks like he regrets all his life decisions. An amused smile makes its way onto my face and I snort a little.

"Would you like to come in?" I say and he looks at me like he wants to kill me.

"You know what? No, I wouldn't, I'd like to stay out here in the cold, dark rain, with the possibility of getting sick, instead of going inside to change into some warm and dry clothes. Yes, you ballsack, I want to come in." He says before pushing passed me and into my house, where he drops his, soaking wet, bag onto a nearby chair and shaking his head like a dog.

"Hey!" I say, trying to block some of the water with my arms and laughing. He stops and moves over to his bag on the chair.

"Ah shit, all my clothes are wet now." He says, pulling out wet clothes.

"I can wash those for you, and you can borrow some of my things for now, if you want," I say looking away from him and making my way over to my room, thank god my house only has one floor.

"That would be awesome, but would any of your stuff fit me?" He says as he follows me into my room, pointing out the somewhat noticeable side difference between us as I reach into the bottom drawer of my dresser and pull out some of my older shirts and pants.

"I'm sure I have some older stuff you can use." I pull out some of the smaller ones that are still comfortable and hold them out to him.

"Great, I'm getting your hand-me-downs." He says sarcastically.

"Don't act so excited," I replied raising my eyebrows.

"Shut up," He says grabbing the clothes from my hands and walking over to my bathroom. I watched as he walked away before grabbing the rest of his stuff and bringing it over to the guest room and placing it at the end of the bed, luckily it wasn't as soaking wet as him.

"Yo Smit! You want something to drink?" I yell as I walk over to the kitchen.

"I'll have water, thanks!" He yells back and I grab a glass, filling it with water and also grabbing a can of ginger ale for myself. I crack open the can and take a sip when I hear the door to the bathroom in my room open up. I take another drink and look over to where the smaller man should be entering from only to choke on my drink.

Oh my god, he's so fucking adorable. The shirt I gave him was just slightly oversized, showing off his pale neck and collarbones. The pants were perfect around his waist but trailed along the floor. A flood of thoughts rush into my mind and my face turns light pink as I start to cough from, y'know, choking on my drink.

Smitty's face morphs into one of concern and he rushes over to me and pats my back as I keel over on myself. Soon my coughing fit is over and my blush dies down and I can talk like a normal person again.

"Are you ok John? What just happened?" He sputtered out as I stood up straight again, hitting my chest with my fist a couple of times.

"I think I just inhaled some ginger ale, I'll be fine, thanks though." I don't mention the fact that I only choked because I thought he was cute, but I don't think that would go over to well.

"Well ok, you wanna watch a movie? Or do you want to change first?" He asks.

"Yeah, we can watch a movie, but I'll change first, you can pick one out," I say, walking towards my room while he makes his way to the living room where the tv is.

I close the door and walk over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of comfortable pants and a tank-top, laying them on the bed. I take off my shirt and pants, leaving me in nothing but my boxers and pull on the soft pants and the tank-top.

I make my way out of the room and meander over to where Smitty had already started the movie.

"So what're we watchin tonight Smit?" I say, stretching my back by pressing my arms up over my head, away from my body. When I stop and look over to the brunet next to me, I see that his face is red and he's just staring at me. "Uhhhh, Smitty? You there bud?" With a smile, I jokingly wave my hand in front of his face. He blinks.

"Oh, uhh, yeah, I'm fine, just got distracted is all." His face gets redder.

"Oh, were you too distracted by my attractiveness?" I ask and his face reddens even more. "Oh, you were? Interesting..." I trail off and sit down on the couch, looking up to see what movie we're watching.

"Oh, Annabelle, didn't peg you for a horror movie kind of guy, you sure you're up for it, man?" I say, teasingly.

"I wouldn't so cocky if I were you." We both turn to the movie, watching in silence with the occasional quip or side comment.

Later on in the movie, rain still pouring, the lights flicker and Smitty seems to tense up slightly.

"It's ok, I don't think the power'll go out." Right as I said that the entire house goes pitch black and I hear a scared noise from Smitty as he grabs onto my sleeveless arm and holds on for dear life.

"Whoa, you ok there?" I ask, my face heating up slightly.

"No, I'm not. It was a bad idea to watch that stupid movie and now the fucking power's out!" He says like he was berating himself for something.

"I can grab some flashlights if you want," I say, starting to get up from where I was, only for the smaller man to hold on tighter to me.

"No don't leave me. I don't want to be alone." I can hear the fear in his voice as he practically claws at my exposed arm.

He's so cute wtf

I sigh. "Ok fine, I have my phone, we can use that," I say and turn on my phone's flashlight.

"Thank you." He mumbles into my shoulder. I smile fondly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask him, rubbing his back gently.

"No, I-" he was cut off by a loud bout of thunder making him whimper and move his face to press into my chest.

"Hey hey hey, it's ok, I'm here," I lift his face up to look him in the eyes. "Don't worry."

I can see tears streaming down his face with a scared expression painted on. I noticed how his eyes flick around my face and land on my lips. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with the urge to lean in and kiss him.

He beats me to that though as soon his lips meet mine. It only lasts for about five seconds, but those five seconds were the best of my life.

I follow him slightly when he pulls away, wanting more than what I got. I open my eyes slightly and see that's he's blushing like crazy. His eyes shoot open.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, that was stupid of me, you probably hate me now, I'm so fucking sorry, I-I-" I cut him off with another kiss.

Our lips move in sync with each other, a dance only known to the two of us. I place a hand on his hip while he cups my face making me melt more into the kiss.

Sadly we had to pull away for air, but we stayed close, foreheads pressed together and lips barely touching.

"I could never hate you, you mean too much to me." Tears welled up in the corner of his multicolored eyes and I kissed them away.

"Thank you." He said, his voice shaking. And there we stayed for the rest of the night, even when the power came back in and the rain died down. With the tv in the background and my arms wrapped around him, we fell asleep together. Happy and content where we are.

I'm in love with my best friend, and that's only the beginning of it.

Originally posted on wattpad

[maybe-your-left]

A Case In Need: I Have to Mark You

This chapter has a lot in it... it's not as long as my others but there's a lot that happens. 

TW/CW: stepping into more dark territory for this chapter. It may cause you to have anxiety if that's something you get from reading fics that touch on 'physical or mental abuse' if so, I would skip this chapter. Nothing NSFW, but there is some emotional and mental manipulation happening in this chapter. 

This chapter hurt me to write but it needed to be done so the two can progress in a 'non-healthy' way in their relationship. 

I also wanted to say that I do not condone Ren's actions in this chapter. If you have feelings for someone this is NOT the way to do it.

As always I have a Masterlist so you can read all the chapters and also check out my two other fics, Cowboy Blues and Good Intentions. They are not as intense as this chapter if thats what you are into! 

Pain. 

Digging, throbbing, gum scraping pain. 

Hands were all over you, touching. Grabbing, pinching your skin. 

You kept trying to scream, trying to thrash away but the chains kept you still. Ren made sure of it. 

You don’t know how long you were held there, you just remember hearing the door open and close. The sound of footsteps entering the room. Ren's voice talking to others, and suddenly you were being touched. Not anywhere sexually, but it felt violating. You didn’t know who they were, how many there were. All you knew was that it hurt. 

You jolted from your anxiety-induced fainting, someone was stroking your hair. Brushing it with the cold bristles of a brush. Back and forth over your part, being sure to keep every hair out of your face. It would’ve been soothing if you could speak, but all that could come out were garbled moans. Spit was spilling over the ball gag, soaking your chin, dripping down onto your chest. Whoever was there was quick to wipe the excess while the brush kept combing your hair. 

“They’re almost done, Angel.” a deep voice cooed. Lips touching your ear, voice like honey over your frayed wounds. You jerked your head to the side, desperate for reassurance from the assailant. A sharp sting by your side, followed by a separate voice mumbling to itself. “You did so well my princess… I’m so proud of you.” 

You moaned, tensing your arms again, trying to break free. But the more you flexed, the more exhausted you became. All you could do was cry, and allow whoever to continue to brush your hair, hoping that the horror would end. 

Moments later the pain stopped, in its place was a cold film. Spread across your side, sticking to your sweat-slicked body. Footsteps out of the room. You heard what sounded like a fridge door opening and shutting, followed by someone sitting in a chair opposite from you. Oh how you wished you could see, touch, hear anything except the blood rushing to your brain. 

A drink was sipped, the smacking of lips across the room, “Now you’ll never forget who you belong to.” 

----- 

You were sore. Rolling over in bed, stretching and flexing your arms and legs. Sighing at the popping of joints, a symphony to your bedridden ears. You felt the sunshine flood through the windows, basking the bed in its warmth. You opened your eyes, they were crusted and dry. Probably needed to take out your contacts, you must’ve forgotten to take them out when you went to sleep last night. 

Oh. 

Your eyes fell to the sheets. 

These weren’t yours. 

No the ones in your bed were white, these were a charcoal gray. 

Something different was in your arms, a soothing softness you hadn’t felt in weeks. You blinked a few times, trying to rehydrate your contacts. Pulling the article up to your face you saw colors. You gasped, it was your tie-dye blanket! The one Ren had stolen from you weeks ago! You held it close to your face, breathing in the scent, familiar and safe. You started crying into the blanket, it had been so long. 

“I see you’re awake.” 

You stopped, memories of the night before flooding your brain. Dropping the blanket from your eyes you peaked at the man sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Ren. 

You saw red. 

What did he do to you last night? You couldn’t remember, your brain blocking out the trauma he induced. You launched at his figure, stoic and still. He was staring at you, sipping on a cup of coffee. In his sleep shirt and pants, hair tousled so effortlessly you would have forgiven him right then and there. But the moment you moved your side ached with pain. You sat up, instinctively cupping your rib cage. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he instructed. Eyes unblinking, you would’ve thought he was a statue if it wasn’t for his eye twitching. 

“What, what do you mean?” 

You looked down at yourself, somehow you were dressed in your sleep shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. Both you hadn’t seen since your move to the new apartment, more things Ren must’ve stolen. Your hand pressed to your ribcage, instantly causing you to wince. 

“What did I just say?” He set down his coffee on the bedside table, moving closer to you. Reaching out his large paws to no doubt restrain you again. You flinched away, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Your bottom lip was already quivering, although you couldn’t remember everything. You remembered that he did this to you. 

Ren stopped moving towards you, hands falling to his folded legs. Looking at you with dead, unblinking eyes. He hummed and got off the bed, crossing the hotel room to the kitchen. You clutched onto the blanket, attempting to hide from him. Shutting your eyes as you heard him coming back, “Drink this Angel.”

He had a glass of water in his hand, holding it in front of your face. 

Your mouth instantly became dry, “Why?” 

Ren rolled his eyes, “I can see how chapped your lips are from here just take the water.” 

Sitting up again, wincing at the pain, you propped yourself up on the headboard. Grabbing the glass from his hands and slowly sipping. “Good girl, now let’s talk.” He sat back down on the bed, careful not to touch you. Ren ran a hand through his bedhead, sighing as you backed further into the wall. “Before you freak out, I did this for your own good.” 

You clung to the blanket again, “What did you do Ren?” 

He reached out, stopping when you backed away again. You didn’t want his hands to touch you, afraid of what you might feel. What you might say when he does, how you would betray yourself for falling for him when he was so clearly capable of hurting you. 

“You have to let me touch you, I won’t hurt you.” 

You scoffed, “Yeah like I’d believe that.” You hopped off the bed, stepping on wobbly legs. Holding your blanket to your chest. You instantly felt dizzy when you stood up, like your body was shutting down all over again. Your vision was spotting, only making it to the couches when you felt Rens arms surrounding you. 

“Stop moving, you’ll hurt yourself,” he whispered in your ear. 

You threw your arm back, smacking the side of his head, “Let go of me! I don’t-I don’t need your help.” 

Smacking him again and again, whatever was on your side was throbbing now with every movement. His arm was trying to keep a loose grip but you kept squirming away from him. 

“Angel, stop moving!” 

“No!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face again. You wanted him to let you go, let you fall to the floor, and be at peace. Away from the monster who chained you last night. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You clenched a fist, swinging up at his jaw. Although you were exhausted and sleep-deprived, you could feel the click of bones smashing together. He fell back from you, hands covering his own face, allowing you to fall on your butt to the floor. Chest heaving, you cried into your blanket, desperate for relief from the aching of your body and soul. 

Above you, you heard silent sniffles. Followed by Ren taking a deep breath and probably rubbing his nose on his shirt, “Please. (Y/N), please let me help you.” 

Looking up your eyes locked. No longer were they dead, but full of sadness. Regret, pain, just like your own. They were bloodshot, like he had been crying for hours beforehand, his under eyes were puffy and bruised. Ren sniffled again, reaching out a hand to you. 

Staring back and forth, the hand and his face, you were torn. An unspoken bond between you two had been severed, and now you were faced with the aftermath. 

Slowly you raised your own hand to his, studying how small and delicate it was compared to his palm. Veins scattered across your own skin, discoloration at the wrist, while his own were powerful and callused. Years of work and determination between each muscle, fingers cradling your own. He gently tugged your hand, silently asking you to try and stand up. You raised to your feet, swaying slightly. Ren leaned into you, careful that you wouldn’t fall again. Pulling you back towards the bed, both of you sitting in front of the other. 

You redacted your hand once you were settled, holding again to the blanket. Ren brought his hands to his lap, studying his own wrists. Flexing and stretching them in and out of fists before he spoke again. 

“Yesterday,” he sighed, “Thing’s got a little out of control.” 

You nodded. 

“And it is not my fault that you wouldn’t behave and listen to me…” 

“So you’re blaming me?” you scoffed. 

“Yes.” 

You moved to get up again, but Ren’s hands shot out to stop you, “No no no, I’m not blaming you. Please don’t move.” 

“I needed you to understand your place in all this…” he looked down at your side. 

“And what is my place Ren,” you whispered. 

“It’s with me. (Y/N), it’s with me, now and forever.” 

You shut your eyes, tears forming once more. 

“What happened Kylo?” 

He got up, hoisting you into his arms in a bridal carry. Walking to the bathroom. Kicking open the doorway and settling you on the ground between him and the mirror. He said nothing, just grabbed the hem of your shirt and tugged. Understanding what he wanted you lifted your shirt off, closing your eyes, afraid of what you might see. He let out a deep breath, fingers lightly trailing up and down your spine and over towards the affected area. 

You opened your eyes and gasped. 

You looked terrible. 

Your hair was in a knotted mess. Someone, hopefully Ren, had tried to put it in a bun last night but instead maybe tied it in a bow? Your face was splotchy and red, eyes bloodshot like his. Your lips were pink and swollen, puffed up on the inside from the gag being in. Eye makeup smeared across your cheeks and down to your neck. 

Your eyes scanned yourself in the mirror, slowly moving towards your left side. Film, you saw a film on your side. Almost like a saran-wrap texture across your skin, taking up the lower portion of your left rib cage and waist. You lifted your arm, revealing the source of your pain. 

Gasping, you instinctively went to touch it, Ren grabbing your wrist before you could. You had a tattoo. 

Not just any tattoo, but a name. Written in his own handwriting, across your ribcage. The ink was slightly bleeding, along with your skin attempting to pucker under your movements. It was an elegant tattoo, simple and beautiful. If it weren’t for the demon who gave it to you unwillingly you would’ve loved it. But the demon was standing behind you, staring into your soul. Holding you hostage for the second time. 

“Why,” you croaked out. Not moving your gaze from the mark. 

He swallowed behind you, “You forced my hand.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Ren stared at the tattoo, his left hand coming across the film. Slowly tracing the lines of his own name, like he had never seen the words before. “Now you’ll never forget how much I love you.” 

The words fell on your ears like a curse. All the blood rushing to your head. You felt like you were going to pass out, jerking away from him but he held you still. Breathing menacingly behind you, ready to eat you if you denied his declaration. What kind of sick and twisted game was this? It was fun when you two were fooling around but this, this was wrong. He belonged to someone else and now, now he had gone too far. 

He spun you around, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “You’ll never forget that you belong to me, and me alone.” His hand locked on your jaw, forcing you into a kiss. Angry and passionate between both your lips, you tried to back away. You needed air or something to get away from him. Just so you could clear your head. He wouldn’t let go, causing you to sob against him. He pulled you into his chest, pressing your head to listen to his heartbeat. You cried into his shirt, staining it with your tears. 

Lifting you to the sink, standing between your open legs he massaged your scalp. Allowing you to cry into his hands. He didn’t try to stop you, only coaxing you to let it all out, reminding you to breathe when you started hiccuping. You weren’t sure how long you cried, but he never left you. Never stopped holding you, kissing your forehead, whispering how much he needed you during the process. Despite his continued movements, your head was pounding. Crying, followed by anxiety attacks and more crying was not giving you the best start to your day. You needed water, a shower and to sleep. 

“Please, please stop,” you begged him. 

Ren stopped his movements, “What do you need, Angel?” 

“Can we shower, and go home?” you heaved, “Please. I need to go home Kylo.” 

“Okay.” 

----- 

Ren showered you, dressed you, and drove you back to the apartment. Neither of you saying a word to each other. Allowing the comfortable silence to bathe the both of you. Once you pulled up to your house he was at your side once more, opening your door and holding your hand up the stairs. 

Inside your living room were 6 bodies, hovering over the coffee table. Each one grumbling and laughing with one another like they belonged there. Ren cleared his throat, “We’re back gentlemen. You may resume your posts.” 

“Yes, Mr. Ren.” they all spoke in unison. Not one of them looked at you as you clung to his side. Not wanting to get into a petty argument with Ushar or Vicrul after your difficult evening. 

“Let’s get you to bed okay, Angel? I have to tie up some loose ends back at the office but the Knights will be here watching over you.” 

“Oh, okay,” you whispered. Slowly walking up the stairs. Since your shower, your tattoo has become itchy and hurt even more. Ren wouldn’t allow you to remove the film, telling you that the artist demanded it stay on for another week. That way the skin wouldn’t get infected. Although you hated the tattoo, the last thing you needed was to end up with an infection with your boss’s name on your ribcage. 

Ren pulled back the sheets, being sure to guide you to your preferred side of the bed. He tucked you in and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you. “What are you looking at?” 

He sighed, “Just you (Y/N), always you.” he leaned in and gave you a kiss. Getting up and shutting off the lights to your room. Leaving you alone to feel the repercussions of his actions.

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @kirah36 @morby @clumsycopy @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @desiraypark @princss-bucky @ghoulian13 @swiss-mrs @douglasdriver @direnightshade @sydneyssmut​

[pikapeppa]

Cullen/Lavellan and FenHawke pirate AU: Wake Up

Chapter 36 of @schoute and my love project Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me is up on AO3! 

In which Fenris tries to cope with the outcome of the old elven temple. ~5700 words; read here on AO3 instead.

**********************

- FENRIS - 

Fenris went to his cabin as quickly as his aching legs could carry him. His calves were trembling from the nearly non-stop running and his stomach was almost hurting from hunger, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was Hawke. She was alive, and she needed to stay that way. If there was a chance to undo what that cursed orb had done, she had to stay alive. She had to stay alive and breathing and warm to the touch, because if she – if Hawke– 

His gut twisted with nausea at the thought. He gritted his teeth and stumbled toward his cabin, then shoved open the door. 

Hawke was laid out on the bed. Her shirt was unlaced down to her bustier, and Anders was resting the side of his face against her chest. 

“What are you doing?” Fenris demanded. 

“Shh. I’m listening to her heart,” he replied. He shot Fenris a baleful look. “What do you think I’m doing? Testing the unconscious woman’s bosom for a new pillow? I’m not that bad of a doctor.” 

Fenris scowled as he closed the door. He stood tensely at the foot of the bed until Anders lifted his head. 

He sighed and nodded. “Sounds good. Slow but steady. It really is like she’s just asleep and won’t wake up.” He rubbed his stubbled chin. “It’s odd. None of them are reacting to anything. Sternal rub, trapezius pinch–”

“We tried all of that,” Fenris interrupted. 

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Don’t snap at me. I’m just thinking out loud.” He reached for a basin on the floor beside his stool and lifted a cloth from the bowl, then squeezed it out and began wiping Hawke’s sweat-and-dirt-streaked face.  

Fenris stepped around the bed and held out his hand. “Let me do that,” he said. 

Anders gave him another exasperated look. “You look terrible, you know. You need fluids and food, too. You should go to the galley.”

Fenris looked around his cabin, then picked up the nearest cup and drank the contents – a stale and stone-cold infusion of elfroot, as it so happened. He put the cup down and held out his hand. “Give me the cloth. I will do that.”

Anders sighed loudly, then slapped the cloth into his hand and stood up. “Fine. Knock yourself out. I can set up the fluids in the meantime.” He left Fenris’s cabin, leaving the door slightly ajar. 

Fenris glared at his departing back, then turned to Hawke. She really did just look like she was sleeping; her face was so relaxed and still. But even unconscious, the corners of her lips were turned up in the slightest hint of a curl, like she was smiling at him even in her sleep… 

His eyes were burning. He sniffed hard, then moistened the cloth in the basin and carefully brushed her bangs back from her forehead before wiping her forehead in soft and careful strokes. 

The sweat and dirt wiped away easily, revealing the pale golden smoothness of her skin, and a memory suddenly jumped to the front of his mind: the time that she had cleaned his skin in just this careful way, right after that terrible altercation with his sister in Afsaana. He’d been covered in blood and dirt, and Hawke had wafted into his room with her doctor’s kit and that damned unshakable smile on her face. She’d helped him to clean the dirt from his shoulders and his back, her tender fingers sluicing the water away from the waistband of his breeches as it carried away the evidence of his ordeal… 

A tear streaked its way down his cheek. He finished cleaning the left side of her face, then squeezed out the rag before moving on to clean the delicate dips around her eyes and nose. 

She’d been so kind to him that day – and every day, truly. Kind without being pitying, funny and maddeningly flirtatious, full of hope and optimism, and… and now she was silent and still, all because Fenris had been incautious. He’d known in his gut that this trip into the forest boded poorly. He knew it was a bad idea, but Hawke wanted so badly to go on her adventure with Piper, and he only wanted to make Hawke as happy as she made him. 

But now this had happened, and she wasn’t waking up. What if – what would he do if…? 

His vision blurred with tears, and he impatiently wiped them away. He dampened the cloth once more and wrung it out, and by the time Hawke’s face was clean, his own cheeks were wet and stiff with salt. 

He took a deep breath to ease the ache in his throat, then rinsed the cloth again and began cleaning her neck. He cradled her nape carefully as he wiped the streaks of sweat from her throat and her collarbones, and the longer he spent cleaning the perfect column of her neck, the more the contrast between this moment and the other moments they’d spent on this bed began to torture him. The thought of Hawke stretched out beneath him with his hand cradling her neck just so, her eyes closed like they were now, but her lips parted in rapture as they moved together in perfect time… 

A fresh rush of tears burned his eyes. He dropped the cloth in the basin and stroked her face. “Hawke, open your eyes. You must open your eyes.” 

She didn’t move. Her eyelids remained stubbornly shut, her dusky eyelashes dark and still against her cheeks without even the telltale flutter of a dream.

He took her hand. “You said I didn’t need to be alone,” he whispered. “You promised you would stay with me. I… I need you to stay with me.” 

She didn’t move. She didn’t speak or blink or squeeze his hand, and his breath left him on a sudden sob. He bowed his head and clenched his free hand in his hair, gripping the roots until they hurt, but even the pain that rippled across his scalp wasn’t enough to distract him from the horrible lung-crushing ache in his chest. 

He needed her. He didn’t know quite when it had happened, but at some point in the last few months, Hawke had twined herself so thoroughly in every part of his life that he couldn’t imagine living without her anymore. She was everywhere and in everything, in his job as the master-at-arms and in his bed, in his arms and his closely guarded heart, and he couldn’t remember what his life was like before she’d come bursting into it. 

If she didn’t wake up, Fenris would be alone again. But it wouldn’t be like before, because now he would know what he was missing. He would know what it felt like to have someone see him, to truly see even the ugliest parts of him and to want him anyway. He knew what it was like to have someone light up his life like a flaming beacon calling forth the happiness he’d never believed he could have. If Hawke didn’t wake up, he would know what he was missing, and that knowledge would torture him more than anything Danarius or any other slaver had ever done. 

He lifted his head. “Rynne,” he rasped. “Don’t leave me. I am begging you.” 

She didn’t reply. Her chest rose and fell very slowly with her breaths, and Fenris just held her hand and stared at her in rising misery.

“Can I come in?” Anders said quietly. 

Fenris flinched, then hastily wiped his face and shot Anders a glare. “Are you incapable of knocking?”

Anders huffed. “Sorry for announcing my presence in the usual manner,” he muttered. He sidled into the room with a tray of ominous-looking items: two glass bottles of clear liquid, a strip of cloth, a looped length of narrow rubber tubing, and something that looked like a slender and very sharp silver quill without the feather.

Fenris frowned. “What is all of that?”

“This is boiled water with a special mixture of salts,” Anders said. “It’s going to keep her hydrated. And no, I’m not going to try and feed it to her.”

“Saltwater?” Fenris said archly. “You think saltwater is going to keep her alive?”

“I know saltwater is going to keep her alive,” Anders retorted. “Now move, will you? I need her arm.”

“Why?” Fenris asked.

“Because I’m going to inject the saltwater directly into her blood.”

Fenris gaped at him in horror. “You’re going to do what?”

He sighed loudly. “Fenris, it’s safe. I have done this at least a dozen times for various members of the crew. Sutherland and Shayle and Marie all had fluids injected today, and they’re fine.” He raised his eyebrows. “In fact, you should go to the infirmary and see how–”

“I am not leaving,” Fenris said loudly.

“Worth a try,” Anders muttered. In a louder voice he said, “Either way, you need to move, or you can explain to Piper how your stubbornness killed the assistant doctor on the Lady Luck.”

Fenris scowled at him, but finally moved aside.

“Thank you,” Anders said, slightly acidly. He picked up the larger bottle of fluid and removed the cork. He affixed the rubber tubing to the mouth of the bottle, then looked around vaguely. “Have you got any rope here?”

“What for?” Fenris said suspiciously. Anders wasn’t going to tie Hawke down, was he? If he even suggested tying her down… 

“To tie the intravenous fluids to that wall sconce,” Anders said.

 Fenris raised his eyebrows. “The intra…?”

“Fenris, just find some rope, will you?” Anders snapped. “Maker’s breath, are you going to be like this all night? Let me know now, and I’ll fetch some cotton balls to plug my ears.”

Fenris shot him a glare, but found some rope and handed it to Anders. Anders quickly formed a makeshift harness for the bottle, then hung it upside-down from the wall sconce so the tubing was hanging down. 

He held out the tubing to Fenris. “Take this. Pinch the end, or the fluid will leak out.”

Fenris did as he was told. He watched warily as Anders sat on the stool beside the bed and wiped the back of Hawke’s wrist with the contents of the smaller bottle – hard rum, if the heady vapours were anything to go by. He wiped his own hands with the rum as well, then wiped the silver quill nib. 

Then he took Hawke’s hand and lowered the sharpened tip of the nib toward the back of her wrist.

“Stop!” Fenris blurted. “What are you doing?”

“I’m inserting the needle into her vein,” Anders said. “Then I’ll attach the tube to the needle, and the fluids will go into her blood.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never seen you do this. How did you learn to do this?”

“A medical tome from Tevinter, as it so happens,” Anders replied. “It’s very modern medicine. Not many doctors–”

“Tevinter?” Fenris interrupted. “They likely gained that knowledge through the torture of slaves! You would benefit from the torture of slaves?”

Anders gave him a hard look. “Are you going to shout at me, or are you going to let me save Hawke’s life?”

Fenris glared venomously at him, then waved bad-temperedly at Hawke’s arm. Anders turned back to Hawke and swiftly slid the tip of the needle into the back of her hand near her wrist. 

Fenris winced, but he gave the rubber tube to Anders when he reached for it. Anders swiftly attached the tube to the needle, then jerked his chin at the tray. “Hand me that strip of cloth.”

Fenris silently handed him the cloth. Anders tied the needle flush to her wrist to keep it in place, then sat back with a sigh. “All right. Now I’ll just watch her for a bit to make sure she doesn’t have an adverse reaction to the treatment.”

“Adverse reaction?” Fenris said in horror. “You said you’d done this a dozen times! You said this would save–”

“Fenris, stop this!” Anders complained. “There’s a risk involved in any medical treatment! Elfroot salve holds a risk if someone is allergic. Even those stitches that Hawke sewed into your skin could become infected.” He gave Fenris a pointed look. “Every treatment holds an element of risk. You have to accept it if you want the problem to get better.”

Fenris closed his mouth and glared at Anders. This talk about risks, the benefits and payoffs of taking risks… Anders might be talking about medicine, but his words were uncannily like something that Hawke would say. 

A horrible pang of longing swelled in his chest, and he rubbed his face roughly to ward it off. Then Anders’s sardonic voice pierced his thoughts. “You know, you might want to try being nicer to the man who’s keeping your girlfriend alive.”

 Fenris lowered his hands and glared at him. “Is that a threat, doctor?”

“No!” Anders exclaimed. “It’s a reasonable suggestion. Don’t be so bloody touchy. Maker only knows what she sees in you.” He rose from the stool and waved impatiently at it. “Just sit down, all right? You look like you’re about to fall over. Looking at you is making me tired.” 

Fenris shot him a resentful look, but he sat in the stool that Anders had vacated. He reached for Hawke’s hand, then stopped himself; the evil-looking needle and tube protruding from her skin made his stomach roil. 

“You can hold her hand,” Anders said in a gentler tone. “Just don’t touch the equipment.”

Fenris gingerly took her hand. He stared breathlessly at her face, waiting and hoping for her eyelids to flutter or her lips to part on a sleepy murmur…

He waited and watched her face, but she didn’t move. Her chest rose and fell in time with her slow breaths, but she was otherwise completely still.

Behind him, Anders slowly took a seat on the chest where Fenris kept his clothes. Fenris ignored him and continued to watch Hawke’s sleeping face. 

“This won’t wake her up, you know,” Anders said quietly. “It’s just to keep her from dehydrating.”

“And from starving,” Fenris said. “Right?”

Anders hesitated for a moment. “Not… no, it won’t stop her from starving.”

Fenris whipped around in alarm. “What do you – then what’s the point?”

“You die sooner of dehydration than starvation,” Anders said. “This gives her more time.”

“How much more time?”

Anders paused again, and Fenris scowled at him. “How much?”

He made a little face. “It’s hard to say exactly. Seven to ten days, maybe.”

“You’re not sure?” Fenris demanded. “How are you not sure?”

“Intravenous fluids are a new science,” Anders said. He shot Fenris a baleful look. “I’m one of the few doctors outside of Tevinter who performs it, you know. You should be grateful.”

Fenris glared at him for a moment longer, then turned back to Hawke. “Vishante kaffas,” he muttered. 

They sat in a rancorous silence for a moment. Then Anders spoke again. “As I was saying, this won’t wake her up. You should go get something to eat. You won’t do her any good just sitting here.”

“I am not leaving her side,” Fenris insisted.

Anders tsked. “Do you think she’d want you to starve?”

“Don’t talk to me about what Hawke wants,” Fenris snapped. “You don’t know what she wants.”

Anders scoffed. “Oh, of course. Because you’re the only one who knows her, right? Wrong. Everyone on the ship knows her. She’s friends with everyone.” He jerked his head at the door. “Everyone out there is worried about her, you know. And about you.”

“Me?” Fenris said in surprise. 

Anders grunted. “Half of them heard your little diatribe at the captain. They’re worried about how you’re doing since Hawke was, er, attacked. Seriously, you should go to the galley. Have a drink and something to eat with the others. They’ll want to know you’re okay.”

Fenris stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Hawke again. “I don’t need their pity. Or yours.” 

“Nobody pities you, you miserable grouch,” Anders said in exasperation. “They respect you as the master-at-arms. And they like you for some weird reason.” He shot Fenris a sardonic look. “Most people enjoy having their friends around when someone they love is sick.”

Fenris curled his lip. “That hasn’t been my experience,” he muttered.

“What part?” Anders said. 

Fenris shrugged irritably. “Any of it. Having… company when you’re ill. I was left alone to heal when I was ill.”

“Your parents left you alone when you were sick?” Anders said.

“My parents are dead,” Fenris said harshly. “They died when… when I was young.” He shot Anders a scathing look. “I spent most of my life as a slave in Minrathous. I never had the luxury of companionship when I was ill.”

Anders raised his eyebrows, then folded his arms. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Fenris frowned. “What?”

“That you were a slave in Minrathous before Piper freed you from that slave ship. You never talk about yourself,” Anders said. “No one knows anything about your life before you joined the crew.” He gave Fenris a careful look. “Actually, this is the most you’ve ever said about your life before the Lady Luck.”

Fenris eyed him mistrustfully. “Why do you want to know about my life before the Lady Luck?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Maker’s mercy, you’re so suspicious. It’s hardly unusual to know things about the people you share a ship with.”

Fenris scowled at him, then turned to face Hawke again. He ran his thumb slowly over the back of her hand and watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, and for a while, he and Anders were silent.

“I was taken from the alienage when I was twelve,” Fenris finally said. “I was forced to become a fighter. A personal bodyguard for a wealthy merchant.”

Anders was quiet for a moment. “What about before that?”

He shrugged and traced Hawke’s knuckles with his thumb. “Before that… I suppose my life was better. It is difficult to remember when what came after was…when it made such an impression.”

Anders hummed a soft acknowledgement. “And the, er… tattoos?”

Fenris clenched his jaw for a moment before replying. “They are lyrium and ink. Markings meant to strengthen me and to intimidate.” He shot Anders a pointed look. “A medical experiment, forced on me by Tevinter doctors. A failed one, I should add.”

Anders’s face fell into a look of unguarded surprise. “Oh. Well, now it makes sense.”

Fenris pursed his lips, then turned back to Hawke. 

Anders shifted slightly on the chest of clothes. “You could have said something earlier,” he said. “It would have made both our lives easier if I knew.”

Fenris shot him a sharp look. “Forgive me for not sharing my life story with you, a stranger, in order to ease your discomfort.”

“I’m trying to be nice, you ass,” Anders said loudly. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry you had a hard time of it. If it makes you feel any better, my life wasn’t exactly sunshine and daisies before I joined the Lady Luck.” He shot Fenris a resentful look. “Not that you would know anything about that either.”

Fenris frowned. It was true; Fenris knew very little of Anders, aside from the fact that he was from somewhere in Ferelden and he was unnervingly lax in his medical practices.

He shrugged. “You have no reason to be sorry. Not to me, at least.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anders said sarcastically. “I was incredibly choked up that I might not have your forgiveness for something I didn’t do.”

Fenris glared at him. “You are an ass.”

Anders huffed. “We have something in common after all, then.”

There was another tense and loaded pause. Fenris pointedly turned away and ran his thumb over a tiny birthmark on the back of Hawke’s hand. 

“What happened out there?” Anders asked quietly. “Out in the forest?”

Fenris took a deep breath. “We found an ancient elven temple,” he said. “It turns out that Fen’Harel is real. That is what – well, Merrill thinks that’s what attacked Hawke and the other humans. A curse laid by the Dread Wolf of elven legend.”

Anders raised his eyebrows. “That’s… no. That’s ludicrous.”

“I would agree if I hadn’t witnessed it myself,” Fenris said flatly. 

Anders released a heavy sigh. “How are we supposed to undo an elven curse?”

“We were hoping you might undo this and wake her up,” Fenris said tensely.

Anders let out a mirthless little laugh. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or horrified that you thought I could.”

Fenris didn’t reply. He was loathe to admit it, but he really had been hoping that Anders’s medical training would bring Hawke out of this intractable sleep. Knowing now that the best they could hope for was to keep her alive for more than a week, alive but trapped in the silent and unmoving shell of her body… 

 His eyes were prickling again. He hunched his shoulders self-consciously and blinked hard.

Anders shifted on the chest again. “Look, if anyone will undo this, it’s Piper,” he said. “You know her: she’s like a mabari with a bone. She won’t let this go until Hawke and the others are awake.”

 Fenris nodded silently. His throat was swollen, and he couldn’t risk opening his mouth right now for fear of what might come out.

Anders was quiet for a moment longer. Then he stood up. “No adverse reaction,” he said. “Hawke is doing fine. I’ll get you a biscuit or something. You really should eat.” He made his way toward the door.

Fenris subtly cleared his throat. “You have my thanks,” he said gruffly.

Anders paused by the door and eyed him for a moment. “You’re welcome,” he said. Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Fenris drew a deep breath, then released it in a sigh and bowed his head. Venhedis fasta vass, he truly was exhausted. His entire body was aching, and his stomach was cramping from hunger in a way that it hadn’t done since before he’d joined the Lady Luck. 

He slowly rose from the stool and trudged around to the other side of the bed. Carefully, so as not to disturb Hawke, he crawled onto the bed beside her. 

Then he remembered that no amount of jostling was going to disturb her from the cursed sleep that had taken her. 

The lump in his throat swelled once more, and he swallowed hard to force it down as he stretched out beside her. He lay still for a moment, his eyes tracing over the curves and lines of her sleeping face, but the longer he lay beside her, the more the ache in his chest seemed to swell. 

This was so unnatural – lying beside her without touching her. If she was awake, she would never permit the lack of touch. Hawke was constantly touching him when she was awake or asleep, her hands stroking his arms and her fingers on his neck and her naked chest pressed to his back when they slept, and the easy intimacy of her touch had somehow sunk so deeply into his everyday routine that he could practically feel the chill that her missing touch had left behind. 

Carefully so as not to jostle the needle and tubing in her arm, Fenris shifted closer to her and slid his arm around her waist. He tucked himself as closely against her side as he could without disturbing her arm, then inhaled the scent of her hair. 

She smelled like dirt and rain and the sweat that he’d wiped away from her beloved face, but underneath the rougher scents of their ordeal was her scent: the warm smell of sandalwood that always seemed to linger faintly in her hair and skin, like some sort of permanent perfume. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, but to no avail; the tears were already coming, trickling along his temple to drip onto his folded arm. He took a breath to try and calm himself, but instead he gasped out a sob. 

I love you, he thought. Please wake up. He needed Hawke to wake up. If she didn’t wake, nothing would ever be right again. 

He pressed his lips to her hair. “Hawke,” he whispered. “Wake up.”

****************************

“Fenris, wake up.”

His eyes snapped open at the first syllable of his name. He sat up suddenly, already reaching for his dagger before he could even register the time of day. But the intruder spoke before he could pull out the weapon. 

“Easy, Fen. It’s just me.”

“Piper?” he croaked. He released the handle of his dagger and rubbed his face. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Sorry to wake you. It’s urgent.”

“What?” he said blearily. Then he belatedly remembered what had happened yesterday. The temple, the orb, the insidious fog that sank into Hawke’s open mouth–

He frantically looked down at her, torn between hope and terror. Was it possible she’d woken…? But no, she was still silent and unmoving but for the rise and fall of her ribs.

He slumped in disappointment. The needle and rubber tube were removed from her hand, however, and the fluid equipment was tidily stacked on top of the chest where Fenris kept his clothes, so he decided to take this as a sign that she didn’t need more fluids for now.

He looked at Piper, who was sitting on the stool near Hawke’s head. “What is it?” he said.

“I have to go back to the temple,” she said.

He frowned as she went on. “Merrill translated more of the rubbings. The curse in the orb… apparently it’s some kind of transference thing. It stays dormant in the orb until someone touches it – an elf, I mean – and then it transfers to that person and takes out any humans in the area until you put it back.”

He frowned more deeply. “Put it back…?” Suddenly he realized something. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Those dead men outside the temple. A previous iteration of the curse?”

She nodded. “We’re thinking the last time the curse was active was when that qunari-Tevinter treaty was signed. The one that Merrill found with no date? The elf that touched it was probably a slave, unfortunately. Someone probably forced them to return the curse to the orb, and then they made that treaty to keep any humans out of the danger zone, including the human converts among the qunari.”

“So if you put back the curse, Hawke will be cured?” he said hopefully.

 She hesitated just long enough to drop his hopes once more. “Not… no,” she said apologetically. “If I just put the curse back, Merrill and Cole think that the curse won’t strike anyone else, but it also won’t be lifted from Rynne or the others.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “But then–”

“We’re going to figure something else out,” Piper interrupted. “We’ll find a way to break the curse when we get back to the temple.” She raised her eyebrows at him.  “I’m going to get her back, Fen. I mean it.”

He swallowed hard. “I know you do,” he said. But just because she meant it didn’t mean it was possible.

She frowned. “You believe me, right?”

For a moment, he didn’t reply. His life had held too many disappointments for him to believe the best of anything, especially since the best thing in his life had been stolen from him by some ineffable evil fog. But Piper was determined, and expressing his doubts would only make her more belligerent.

He nodded silently, but his response didn’t seem to satisfy her. She sat back on the stool and folded her arms. “I’m going to get her back,” she said confidently. “I’ll outwit the Dread Wolf, you’ll see. That’ll make for a good tavern story. Watch me get free drinks at the Hanged Man next time we go to Rialto.”

“Better yet, you’ll finally have a story to tell at the Hanged Man that’s true,” he retorted.

She snorted with laughter. “Fuck you too, Fen.”

He gave her a feeble smile, then shifted into a cross-legged position on the bed. Hawke’s head was tilted slightly to the side, and Fenris carefully repositioned her head on the pillow. 

Piper cleared her throat. “Listen, I, um… I swear I didn’t think there really was a Fen’Harel.”

He shrugged wearily. “I didn’t either. But that voice we were hearing was undeniably ominous. Even you must admit that.” He cut her a sharp look. “I know you had your doubts about the temple and that orb. Why did you touch it?”

She sighed and looked away, and they were both silent for a moment. Then she turned back to him with a determined scowl. “I’m the captain, okay? I’m the captain of the Lady Luck. It’s my job to look after you bunch of salty assholes and make sure everyone’s happy. I just… wanted to…” She shrugged irritably. “I didn’t want it to be for nothing.”

He eyed her sternly. “You look after the crew well enough by listening to your instincts. You should listen to them next time.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I think.”

They fell silent again, and Fenris gazed sadly at Hawke’s beautiful unconscious face. Then Piper broke the silence again. “Cole was right, you know. This wasn’t your fault.”

He clenched his jaw before replying. “I should have protected her.”

Piper scoffed softly. “There was no way to protect her from that fucking fog shit.”

“There was,” he retorted. “We should have stayed here on the ship.”

Piper gave him a skeptical look. “So what, you’re going to keep Rynne locked away on the Lady Luck just in case anything bad ever happens to her?”

He glared at her. “I won’t be doing anything with Rynne unless she wakes up.”

“She will,” Piper said fiercely. “I’ll make sure of it. And when she does, she’s going to be pissed if you try to be all ‘we’re staying on the ship forever’ with her. No one ever has any fun by just staying put.”

He scowled and hunched his shoulders. An awkward moment later, Piper tapped her palms on her knees. “Okay, well. Now that I’m done arguing with your stubborn ass…” She smoothed a hand over the braids at her temple before rising from the stool.

Fenris slid off of the bed as well. He suddenly felt strange for the informality of sitting on his bed while Piper was here. “When are you going back to the forest?” he asked.

“Now,” she said, to his mild surprise. “I just wanted to, um, check in on Rynne first.”

He met her hazel eyes in silence. Her arms were folded, and there was something about her defensive posture that made him realize why she was really here.

She was trying to apologize. 

He tugged his ear. “I’m not… I am remaining here with Hawke. You are aware–”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t even going to ask. If it was Cullen who got hit, I…” She trailed off, then waved her hand vaguely. “Seriously, don’t even think about it. You’re right where you should be.”

He nodded, and they stood there in an increasingly awkward silence.  

Finally he spoke. “There is a saying in Tevinter: na via lerno victoria.”

She cocked her head. “What’s that mean?”

“‘Only the living know glory’,” he said. “Be careful, Captain.” He extended his hand to her.

Piper eyed him silently for a moment. Then she hugged him. 

He froze, startled by the hold of her wiry arms and the ticklish cloud of her hair in his face. A second later, before he could speak or move or hug her back, she released him and gently punched his shoulder, then left his cabin without looking back. 

He slowly made his way over to the stool and sat down, then noticed the plate that someone – likely Anders – had placed on the bedside table. It held a hardtack biscuit, an orange, and a generous slice of salted beef. 

His stomach clenched eagerly at the sight. He picked up the orange and dug his nails into the peel, and when the heady citrus scent burst from the peeled skin, he held the fruit over Hawke’s nose. 

“It is your favourite,” he said softly. “Can you smell it? I would share it with you if you woke.”

She didn’t wake. Fenris gazed longingly at her, then began to listlessly eat the fruit.

Piper will fix this, he told himself. It was a hope more than a plan and he knew it, but he had no choice now but to cling to it and to pray that Piper would bring Hawke back to him. 

He swallowed the last segment of orange along with the lump of misery in his throat, then went on to eat the dried meat. He would need to regain his strength in case Piper’s plan failed. 

If Piper’s plan failed, Fenris would be returning to the elven temple. And he would burn that fucking temple down until it was nothing more than ash.

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Tourniquet - Han Jisung Gang AU Part 18

(Pt1) (Pt2) (Pt3) (Pt4) (Pt5) (Pt6) (Pt7) (Pt8) (Pt9) (Pt10) (Pt11) (Pt12) (Pt13) (Pt14) (Pt15) (Pt16) (Pt17)

Warnings: fluff, Angst, BIG SADS

Wow I was emotional writing this

School was starting up again soon, and you weren’t looking forward to seeing Minchul there. It had been a couple weeks since the incident had happened, and ever since you got better and gone back to work and gone back home, Jisung has been constantly checking up on you or with you. He hasn’t let you do anything alone, whether it’s grocery shopping or walking home from work.

You waved goodbye to your boss and the cooks and stepped outside into the warm air. You turned your head and saw Jisung standing there. He wore a dark flannel with a white T-shirt beneath it and ripped black jeans. He walked over to you with a smile and kissed your forehead.

“Hey baby.” He greeted.

“Hey babe.” You greeted back, leaning into his chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Miss me?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

“Mhm.” You hummed, inhaling the smell of his cologne.

He smiled as he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leading you to the river.

“It’s going to be dark soon silly.” You giggled.

“So What? I just wanna spend some time with you.” He said with a smile, holding your hand.

You giggled and intertwined your fingers, glad he’s finally over the whole PDA thing. His hand felt like it belonged there, like it was meant for your hand. You looked up at him, his pretty face set into a small smile, his large eyes sparkling. He looked down at you and gave you the sweetest gummy smile as his hand tightened around yours.

“How did I get so lucky?” He asked, his eyes on yours.

You blushed and plopped your head on his shoulder, hiding your red face. He chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair.

“You still get so flustered.” He giggled.

You giggled and rested your chin on his chest and looked up at him, meeting his big eyes. He kissed your head and rubbed your cheek, smiling down at you.

“I love you baby.” He said softly.

“I love you too, Jisung.” You said with a smile.

The sun was beginning to set as Jisung led you away from the river and towards your apartment. You both walked along the path and it was pretty empty, besides a man in a hoodie walking towards you both. Jisung continued to talk about how he wasn’t excited to go back to school, until the man passed you both. Jisung fell silent and he eyes followed the man as he continued to walk away down the path. You tilted your head and tugged Jisung’s hand.

“Do you know him?” You asked.

Jisung turned to you, an unsettling look in his eyes.

“Jisung what-“ You began, but he cut you off.

“Let’s go.”

He quickly grabbed your hand and speed walked to your apartment, looking around as he made you unlock the door quickly. He hurried you inside and you gave him a confused look as he quickly locked your door.

“Jisung, what is it?” You asked, looking at him.

He stayed silent, his back to you.

“Jisung?” You asked, stepping towards him.

He slowly turned around and your blood ran cold. His white shirt was stained red on his side, a hole in his shirt accompanying the red stain. His black jeans were soaked down his thigh with blood that had leaked from his side.

“Jisung!” You gasped as he began to sink down to the floor.

You grabbed him and held his head in your lap. Tears slipped down from your eyes as you cradled his head in your lap. He was panting and sweating, his hair stuck to his forehead. You pushed his hair out of his face and held his face in your hands.

“I’m going to call Chan, just stay with me!” You cried, dialing Chan’s number.

Chan’s phone rang and you cried as you pressed your hand into his wound, that was still bleeding heavily. His eyes were dull as he looked at you, his skin going pale. Your tears dripped down from your face and on to his face as Chan finally answered.

“Y/N? What’s up?” Chan asked.

“Chan-“ you let out a small sob and you heard his breath hitch on the other line.

“What happened? Where’s Jisung?” He asked immediately.

“Chan he got stabbed.” You sobbed.

You heard Chan curse as he ran through the house, getting the members.

“We’re on our way now, keep something pressed to it!” He yelled.

You heard the tires squeal as Chan sped over to your apartment. You dropped your phone and pressed your other hand into Jisung’s wound, making his breath hitch.

“I’m sorry baby.” He whispered.

“Don’t apologize Jisung. You’re going to be okay.” You sobbed.

He stretched his hand out and cupped your cheek, wiping your tears.

“I really am lucky, huh?” He asked, his dull eyes holding affection.

“Stop talking, okay? Save your strength.” Your hands were shaking as you held them to his side, your hands covered in blood.

“I love you so much Y/N.. I don’t say it enough.” He whispered.

“I love you too Jisung, please save your strength.” You sobbed.

You heard the door knob rattle and went to open it, but your eyes found the peep hole and saw something that had you shaking. It was the hooded man.

You pieced everything together. When he walked by you both he stabbed Jisung and kept walking, and that’s why Jisung hurried you home. You slowly back away from the door and wrapped your arms around Jisung, pulling him away from the door. You pressed your hand back into his wound and he winced.

“W-Who was it?” He asked, his voice weak.

You quickly called Chan, trying to keep your voice steady and low.

“Y/N? Y/N what is it?” Chan asked, panicked.

“The guy who stabbed Jisung.. he’s here.” You whispered, your voice shaking.

“What?!” He and Jisung both asked.

Jisung shakily tried to push himself up, but you held him tightly. A loud thumping sound was heard from your door, as the man was trying to get in.

“Please hurry.” Your voice shook into the phone.

“We’re about to pull up!” Chan yelled.

You heard tires screeching then footsteps sounds away from the door, indicating the man was running off. You hear Chan’s voice as he shook the door handle and you got up, quickly opening the door. Chan walked in with Woojin, turning to Changbin and Hyunjin, who both look destroyed seeing Jisung laying there.

“Find that bastard.” He growled.

They both nodded and took off around the building. Woojin quickly checked Jisung’s wound, fear flashing across his face.

“We have to get him back to Changbin’s, quickly.” He said quickly, pressing a towel to the wound.

Chan quickly took of his leather jacket and draped it over Jisung as Woojin lifted him. Jisung’s eyes were closed and felt more tears pour down your face. Chan squeezed your hand and pulled you out of your apartment.

When you got to Chan’s, you held Jisung’s hand, his skin was pale and his breathing was ragged.

“He lost a lot of blood.” Woojin yelled.

Jisungs eyes fluttered open as he looked at you, his dark hair in his eyes. You pushed his hair out of his face and leaned your forehead on his.

“You’re going to be okay Jisung.” You whispered, your tears drenching his face.

He weakly wiped your tears, a pained smile on his face.

“I’m glad I met you, Y/N. You made my life worth living.” He whispered weakly.

“You made mine worth living too.” You sobbed.

He smiled at you and pulled you by your cheeks making your forehead touch his. You heard Woojin grabbing all of his stuff quickly. You looked over and saw him walking over, utensils in his hands. You felt Jisung’s hand drop from your face.

You looked down at him and saw his eyes slightly open and clouded over, his chest no longer rising and falling.

“J-Jisung...?” You asked.

Woojin stared at him, horror across his face.

“Jisung...?” You asked again, but his eyes remained fixed on the cieling, his lips slightly parted.

“Jisung!” You screamed, shaking his shoulders.

“No! No, Jisung!” You cried, shaking him harder.

Changbin grabbed you and lifted you out of the room.

“No! You can’t leave me Jisung!” You kicked and cried in Changbin’s arms as he shut the door, Chan and Woojin locking it after Seungmin ran in.

“He can’t leave me Changbin!” You screamed and cried as your whole body gave out.

Changbin held you tightly as you sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. You felt his own body shaking as you heard him sobbing above your head. You heard Hyunjin let out a loud groan of pain as he dropped beside you both, sobbing loudly. You heard Minho banging on the door and screaming, his voice broken by sobs.

Your whole world fell apart as you lost the love of your life, and all you could do was scream and cry.