#see? three sentences. that took five minutes to explain

[lbhslefttiddie]

im so fucking mad. why did i work so hard on this. there isnt even a single gay bitch in this image all i have is latticework and osmanthus studies

[fatecantstopme]

Better Together

Pairing: Rafael Barba x reader

Summary: Barba acts like he hates you because it's the only way he can keep his cool in your presence. Things come to a head and you call him out on it...

Warnings: cursing, Rafael is a bit of a dick at first. Use of nicknames (baby, cariño, querida, etc.). SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

A/N: Spanish translations in brackets/italics after each sentence.

cariño/querida: sweetheart/dear/darling/baby/etc.

por favor: please

qué: what

hermosa: beautiful/gorgeous

"Right...and what makes you qualified to make that determination?"

You glared at him. "Eight years of education and ten years of practice."

"Fine, but how long did you actually talk to him?" he countered.

"Four hours."

"So now you're an expert in his mental health?"

You groaned. "He belongs in a psychiatric facility, Barba. Not a prison."

"I disagree. He raped and murdered five women."

"I'm not defending his actions, but I'm telling you he's incapable of understanding the consequences of his actions."

"She's right, counselor," Olivia Benson cut in. "I got the same feeling she did when I first talked to him."

Rafael Barba let out an annoyed huff. "Fine. What do you propose?"

"Offer him a deal," she suggested. "Send him where he can get the help he needs."

Barba nodded, expression still slightly annoyed. "Fine." With that, he walked out of the precinct, presumably to go write up a deal.

As soon as he was out of ear shot, you turned to your friend and colleague. "He argues with me for ten minutes straight, but you tell him the same damn thing and he immediately agrees?"

Olivia shrugged. "You know how he is."

"Pompous, arrogant, rude, and downright insulting?"

She laughed. "All of the above, but he's also a pretty damn good ADA."

You sighed. "I would absolutely love to disagree with you, but you're not wrong. Part of me hates that he's so good at his job. And I hate his smug face and his attitude and those damn three piece suits he looks so goddamn good in," you finished your ramble with a groan.

"Maybe if you told him you thought he was hot, he'd be nicer to you," Olivia said with a wink.

"I hate you."

She laughed. "No you don't."

"Fine, I don't, but I will do no such thing. He quite clearly despises me."

"Does he?"

"Does who what?" Nick Amaro asked as he entered the squad room.

"Does Barba hate (Y/N)?" Olivia asked.

Nick chuckled. "Without a doubt."

"See?!" you said smugly.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "One of these days you're going to have to talk to him. Tell him off for being such an ass to you all the time."

"Now that I agree with," Nick cut in.

"If he pushes the right buttons, I will."

**********

Little did you know that two days later, Barba would push the exact right button.

Olivia, Nick, Amanda, Fin, and yourself were gathered in the squad room discussing your latest case. You had two dead girls in two days and 1PP was already breathing down your necks.

You were going over the profile with the team when Barba walked in. "I know it sounds crazy, guys, but I believe the perp is a girl...probably the same age as the victims."

"Why?" Fin asked.

As you started to explain your reasoning, to include the lack of sexual assault, the relationship between the two girls, and the anger clearly present in the attacks, Barba cut you off with a harsh laugh.

"You think a 10 year old girl is capable of inflicting that kind of trauma?" he interjected. "There's no way."

You took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled from your mouth before responding. You needed those ten seconds to calm yourself so you didn't murder him. "Were you ever a 10 year old girl?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Obviously not."

"Are you a forensic psychologist?"

"Again, no."

"Have you been working violent sex crimes for 10 years?"

"No..."

"Then be quiet and listen," you finished harshly.

You'd never snapped at him quite so intensely before and he was taken aback. He was also very aware that he may have taken it a little too far this time. He'd made it a point to keep you at arm's length (or farther) for the past 6 months, and he was belatedly realizing he may have been too cruel.

You finished your profile, answering the questions posed by the rest of the squad, before everyone went about their assigned duties.

Barba announced he was going back to his office to update the DA and you were thankful to be rid of him.

"Maybe you were right, (Y/N)," Olivia said softly. "He either hates you or he hates shrinks."

"Likely both."

"I'm proud of you for clapping back," Amanda said warmly. "Someone's gotta put that guy in his place every once in a while."

You smiled mirthlessly. "Once this case is over, I may have more to say to him, but for now, let's focus on finding the person who killed those girls."

**********

Three days later and you had your suspect in custody. You'd been right in your assessment of the perp...it turned out to be a 10 year old girl who had been relentlessly teased and bullied by the two victims for an entire year. The girl finally snapped and killed them both in a blind rage.

After hearing all of the terrible things that had been done to her, you felt sorry for the girl. You understood why she'd killed those girls, even if you didn't condone it.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," Fin called. "We're going out for drinks. My treat."

"I think I'll take a rain check guys...I've got something I need to do."

"Awww no fun," Amanda teased.

Olivia gave you a look, but you smiled at her reassuringly. She took it to mean you were okay, so she followed the others out.

You'd decided to pay a very special visit to a certain ADA...

You arrived at his office 20 minutes later, and you belatedly realized you probably should have checked to see if he was even there still. It was already after 6pm, but you hoped since he was a workaholic, he would be unaware of the late hour.

When you reached his office door, you found yourself taking a deep breath. You started to question yourself and whether this was a good idea, but then you thought about the way he'd been treating you and you got a burst of courage.

You knocked on his door and waited. You heard a slightly annoyed "Come in", so you opened the door and stepped into his office.

Barba looked up from the paperwork he was buried in, a look of surprise ghosting over his face. "Dr. (Y/L/N)...to what do I owe the pleasure?"

You shut the door behind you and took a step towards his desk. "Do you have a problem with me?"

"Excuse me?" he asked in surprise.

"Do you have a problem with me, specifically, or is it psychologists in general?"

"I don't have a problem with psychologists."

"So it's me, got it. Do you mind telling me what the hell I did to you?"

He had the grace to look sheepish. "You didn't do anything to me."

"Then why do you treat me like I'm some sort of imbecile?"

"I...I never intended to make you feel that way," he said honestly.

"Really? How did you intend to make me feel? You belittle me, insult my abilities and my intelligence, you're unnecessarily rude to me in front of my colleagues..." you trailed off.

He rose from his seat and came around the front of his desk. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had slumped slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he actually felt bad for the way he'd been treating you.

"You're right," he admitted. "I have treated you entirely unfairly."

It was your turn to look surprised. Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, an admission of guilt was certainly not one of them.

"I don't want you to think, for even a moment, that I don't think you're brilliant. You are the sharpest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and you're downright phenomenal at your job."

You opened your mouth and closed it a few times before you could formulate a coherent response. "How in the hell was I supposed to know that?"

He blushed and cast his gaze to the floor. "I suppose there was no way for you to know, given the way I've treated you."

"Why, then?" you asked softly.

He sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "It's--complicated."

"Enlighten me, Barba. I've got time."

His green eyes raised back up to meet yours and you found yourself nearly breathless--and not for the first time. His eyes were beautiful, typically sparkling with whit and mischief; but in this moment, they shone with emotions so complex you couldn't begin to comprehend them.

"I never intended to be cruel to you, only distant. But I found that being aloof wasn't enough to keep you at bay--I needed something stronger. So...I started treating you as if I hated you. It was just easier, and perhaps safer."

"Safer?"

He nodded, but neglected to clarify. "Keeping you out of my life has become a necessity, Dr. (Y/L/N)."

His formality annoyed you, but you didn't comment on it. "Then why didn't you just tell me you didn't like me?"

He groaned and turned back to his desk to pour himself a glass of scotch. "Because it's not true, and I'm many things, but a liar isn't one of them."

"Okay, but you want nothing to do with me?"

"Exactly."

"You do understand how contradictory that sounds, correct?"

He took a long drink from his glass and leaned back against his desk. "It sounds moronic, yes, I am aware."

You debated your next words with care. You knew if you said what was on your mind, you might regret it, but you also knew if you didn't say it, you would regret it.

"When I met you, I was instantly intrigued by you," you began. "It was obvious you were highly intelligent, but you were also funny, charming, and impeccably well-dressed. It's a rare combination."

You crossed your arms and sighed. "At first, you were friendly and I quite liked you, but things between us turned icy in an instant. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, but what I can tell you is it hurt me. It hurt me deeply, Barba, and it still does."

If he'd felt like an ass before, he felt 1,000 times worse now. "I never intended to hurt you," he said quietly. "You're a kind and loving soul...and you don't deserve to be treated the way I've been treating you."

"You're right," you whispered. "I don't."

He winced slightly and downed the rest of his scotch. "I am truly sorry, (Y/N). More than you'll ever know."

His use of your first name was not lost on you. You could count on one hand the number of times he'd said it and you'd reacted the same way each time. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your breath caught, and your heart began to speed up.

Rafael had never noticed before...had never really paid attention to you the very few times he'd said your name, but he saw your reaction this time. For the first time since he'd met you, he began to wonder if you shared his feelings...

You quickly recovered yourself--praying he hadn't noticed. "I appreciate your apology." Your voice was slightly off pitch and you wanted to kick yourself for letting any emotion show.

"May I ask you something?" he said suddenly.

You nodded, not trusting your voice in the moment.

"You said what you thought of me when we first met--what do you think of me now?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He nodded.

You swallowed thickly. "Everything I said is true. You're a brilliant man and an even better lawyer...and you can be funny and charming, when you want to be. But that's not the Rafael Barba I get. I get the one reserved for the criminals and defense attorneys you dislike. The ones that make your skin crawl. You're pompous, arrogant, and cruel."

He closed his eyes tightly. Hearing you say what you really thought of him was much more painful than he'd anticipated.

"But I don't believe that's who you really are," you said so softly he almost didn't hear.

He looked back up at you in surprise.

"I think it's a facade you put up--a mask you wear to hide behind."

"What makes you think that?"

"Call it intuition, or perhaps training," you said with a shrug. "Either way, I am certain you really are the man I met in the beginning--not the man you've been the past several months."

"How could you have that much faith in me? After the way I've treated you..."

"Perhaps it's foolish...or maybe I just want it to be true."

He stared at you with a strange look on his face. It was as if he was trying to decide if you were playing him or being sincere. His expression slowly morphed as he realized you'd meant every word you'd said.

"May I be honest with you?" he asked.

"I want nothing less."

"Truthfully, I'm terrified of you. Absolutely, 100%, completely terrified."

Your jaw dropped slightly. Once again, he’d caught you off guard.

"You got under my skin the moment I met you and I haven't been able to get rid of you since. I've never felt like this--like I can't control my own actions or my emotions--and it's petrifying. I thought pushing you away would change how I felt, but it only intensified it. I think that's why I became crueler over time--I was angry at myself and angry with you for making me feel this way. It's not fair to you, I know, but it's the truth."

You were once again shocked to the core. You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing...if you weren't so good at reading people, you'd be convinced he was lying, but as it stood, you knew it was the raw, painful truth.

"You can't control everything, you know," you said quietly.

He laughed harshly. "God, how I wish I could."

"What are you so afraid of?"

He took a moment to answer, but once he did, the words poured out of him. "I'm afraid the way I feel about you will ruin both of our careers. I'm afraid that once you see the man behind the mask, you'll run and leave me broken. I'm afraid that we'll fall apart...that we won't stand the test of time. I'm afraid of falling so deeply in love with you that I lose myself completely. But most of all, I'm afraid that I've already screwed this up beyond repair."

For all your education and all the eloquent words you've learned in your lifetime, you found yourself stunned into complete and utter silence. No words came to mind, no coherent thoughts emerged. You stared at him and he stared at you, as the silence dragged on.

After what had to be an eternity, Rafael spoke again. "Please say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see my face again. Tell me you'd rather jump off a building than be with me--"

"Stop!" The intensity of your demand silenced him. "Just stop talking…I…I can't find the words I want to say, but I do know one thing: I'm not afraid."

Out of all the things you could have said, all the beautiful sentences you could have strung together, those three words were the perfect response. Fueled with sudden courage, Rafael crossed the space between the two of you in three long strides, coming to a stop a few inches from you.

With a shaking hand, he gently stroked your cheek. "May I?" he asked quietly.

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his and you softly begged, "Please."

He leaned into you, lips pressing against yours with soft insistence. The kiss ignited something within you--a desire so deep and powerful it almost frightened you. You grabbed ahold of his suspenders and tugged his body closer to yours as you deepened the kiss.

Rafael moaned softly against your lips, tongue pressing forward, requesting access. You obliged, lips parting to allow him entry. His hands traveled down your soft curves until they landed on your hips. He used his gentle strength to pull you flush against him, his own body backed up against his desk to support him.

You could feel his need for you in his kiss, in his touch...and in his pants. His growing erection was pressed against you, so close to where you wanted him, yet so far away.

Rafael broke the kiss for a moment. "Carmen left for the day."

"Mhmm," you hummed in response.

"But I don't want our first time together to be on the couch in my office."

"How 'bout the desk?" you teased lightly.

He groaned. "Don't think I haven't imagined it, but I'd like to take you home...do this properly--in a bed."

You stared at him for a moment. "If we stay here, it can be casual, unassuming. If I go home with you...that changes everything."

"I don't want casual. I don't want a fling. I want you--and everything that comes along with that."

You studied him closely before responding. You noted the sincerity in his voice and his expression and decided to--for once--allow your heart to lead your decision. "Take me home, Rafael," you whispered.

He breathed deeply, as if trying to control himself. It appeared that you had the same effect on him as he did on you when you called him by his first name.

He didn't say a word--you weren't even sure he could have if he'd wanted to. He simply grabbed his jacket, took your hand, and practically dragged you to the elevator. Once outside, he hailed a cab and helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you.

As the cab began to move, you rested your hand on Rafael's thigh. He glanced at you, but didn't say anything. You were feeling bold, so you slid your hand slowly up his thigh, inching closer to his evident arousal.

When your fingertips brushed against his clothed cock, he hissed slightly. He leaned over to whisper into your ear so the cab driver wouldn't hear. "Careful, querida. O puedo perder el control [Or I may lose control]."

You inhaled sharply--something about his tone mixed with the hushed Spanish words, sent a jolt of pure arousal straight to your core.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Rafael. He smirked as he discovered one of your kinks. He tucked the knowledge away for later use.

You managed to behave yourself for the rest of the short ride to his apartment, but once inside the building, all bets were off.

His lips were on yours the moment the elevator doors slid closed, pressing your body firmly against the wall. Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the perfect locks.

As the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, you reluctantly pulled away from each other. You saw the desperation in his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same look reflected in yours.

He wasted no time guiding you to his apartment and the moment you were both inside, he had you spun around and pressed up against the door.

“Querida,” he whispered hungrily against your lips, fingertips dancing under your shirt.

You moaned softly as you tugged harshly on his suspenders, pushing them out of the way so you could remove his shirt.

Within moments, your clothes and his were strewn across the house as he carried you to his bedroom, nothing left between you but underwear.

Rafael tossed you gently onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He eyed you hungrily—sprawled out beneath him, desire evident on your face.

“You are perfect, hermosa.”

You blushed. “Rafa…”

He groaned. “Fuck. Don’t do that.”

Confusion clouded your expression. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong…

He’d closed his eyes and his face gave away the internal struggle he was experiencing.

Realization suddenly crossed your features and you grinned. You gently raked your nails down his chest as you murmured the nickname again, “Rafa.”

His eyes shot open and he rutted his hips against yours, mouth pressing wet kisses to your heated skin. His teeth nipped at your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his wake.

He was taking his time with you. Wanting to explore every part of you, taste every inch of your skin, catalogue every detail in his mind.

You whimpered softly, not used to such attention, nor such deliberate slowness. “Rafael, please.”

He looked up at you with his trademark smirk. “You ever been with a Hispanic man before, Cariño?”

You blushed and shook your head.

His smirk widened. “We like to take our time, make sure our lady is properly loved and appreciated. This is about your enjoyment, (Y/N/N), not mine.”

“I want you to enjoy yourself too…”

He kissed you gently. “You keep making those pretty sounds for me, querida, and I promise you, I’ll enjoy myself.”

You found yourself unable to respond as he continued his slow descent towards your core. Each gentle caress of his lips against your skin seemed to set your nerve endings on fire--the need within you growing exponentially.

You whined prettily, hips shifting upwards, desperately seeking his lips where you needed them most. "Please," you begged.

You didn't know it yet, but Rafael would never deny you--not in the real world, nor the bedroom. The moment he heard your soft voice begging, he glanced up at your face. You already looked so far gone--your hair was a mess, your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your breathing was ragged. He smiled to himself as he lowered his head, giving you no time to adjust as he dove into you with abandon.

You gasped as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. As skilled as the man between your legs was in the courtroom, he was even better suited with his mouth hungrily devouring you.

In the span of mere minutes, he'd turned you into a gasping, moaning mess--every one of your senses overwhelmed with feeling.

"Rafa--I--I'm close," you gasped.

He hummed against you, lips wrapping around your clit to increase his assault. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place as he sped up his ministrations.

Your jaw dropped as a flurry of sounds--some of which were intended to be his name--slipped from your lips. Your orgasm sent wave after wave of intense pleasure through your body, but that pleasure soon turned to sensitivity.

"Rafa, too much--" you whispered as you tried to pull away from him.

He laid his arm across your lower belly, effectively holding you in place as his mouth continued to work you. His eyes flicked up to yours to check if you really did want him to stop, but your head was already thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly as the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.

The moment your cries turned to moans and pleas to continue, Rafael stopped and lifted his head. "Did you want me to stop, querida?"

"No!" you cried loudly, fingers grasping his hair in an attempt to guide him back where you wanted him.

He smirked as he complied with your direction, lips and tongue once again sending you into a spiral of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

As you came down from your second high, Rafael finally slowed his assault and allowed you to pull his head up when it became too much.

He placed soft kisses against your heated skin, gently soothing you as the aftershocks shuddered through your body. His lips traced the curves of your face with gentle affection until your breathing had begun to normalize.

Rafael kissed you deeply, desire evident in the action. In response, your hand slowly descended down his chest and abdomen, until you reached his throbbing cock. You lightly ran your nails across the still clothed member, enticing a groan from the man above you.

You teased him for a few more seconds before sliding your hand beneath his boxer briefs and palming his cock in your warm hand. He groaned loudly--hips rutting against your hand instantly.

"I wanna taste you," you murmured against the shell of his ear.

"You don't have to..." he said softly.

There was something in his voice that caused you to pull away so you could see his face properly. He looked worried and perhaps a little apprehensive.

"But I want to," you reassured him.

"You do?"

You nodded. "It's something I enjoy very much, Rafa, so if you're okay with it, I would really like to suck your cock."

His eyes closed briefly and he moaned softly, forehead dropping against yours. "Por favor," he begged in a broken voice.

You grinned ear to ear. "Stand up."

"Qué?" he asked in confusion.

You nudged him gently and tilted your head towards the edge of the bed. "Stand up, handsome."

He did as you asked and watched in surprise as you lowered yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. He felt like he needed to remind you again that you didn't need to do this for him, but when he saw the hunger in your eyes, he fell silent.

You slowly dragged his underwear down, freeing his cock from its constraints. You were a little surprised by his size--he was longer than average and quite thick--but surprise quickly turned to hunger.

You looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and all his worries faded away. It was obvious you wanted this...perhaps just as much as he did.

You wasted no time in wrapping your mouth around his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, eyes never leaving his face.

You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but you pushed past it, determined to provide him with as much pleasure as you could muster.

As you began to move, his fingers intertwined in your hair and his hips stuttered forwards occasionally. You knew what he needed, but it was clear he wasn't going to do it without some prodding.

You pulled off of him with a *pop* and waited until his heavily lidded eyes met yours. "Rafael, I want you to enjoy this."

"I am, cariño," he said in confusion.

"Not as much as you could be." You licked the tip of his cock for emphasis and his hips jumped slightly. "I want you to use my mouth for your own pleasure, Rafa. That's what it's there for."

He shook his head rapidly. He'd been expressly told not to do that by several women before you.

You rubbed his thighs reassuringly. "I want this, baby. Please," you begged. "Please fuck my mouth."

The moment the words were out of your mouth, you sucked his cock back into the warmth of your lips, hoping he would take you seriously. You pressed yourself forward, pushing past the gag reflex to take his entire member into your mouth.

Without hesitation, you began to guide his hips, urging him to give in and take what he wanted--what he needed.

You flicked your gaze up to meet his and nodded your head as best you could, hands still encouraging him to move. He very tentatively began to move his hips and you smiled, fingers digging into his thighs.

When you didn't pull away, he started to put a little more force into the movements. When you still didn't pull away, he sped up, fingers wrapping in your hair to keep you still.

You let him take control, eyes still trained on his face. He slowly began to thrust in earnest, fucking your mouth like it was his favorite place to be. You watched his head fall back, moans of intense pleasure leaving his lips.

You held onto him and focused on breathing as you let him use you. A few minutes passed before his hips began to stutter and you knew he was close.

You prepared to swallow everything he had to give you, but he surprised you by pulling away, your mouth coming off of him with a *pop*.

His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wild--pupils blocking out the brilliant green. "I need you," he said, voice raw and husky.

You understood his meaning and quickly crawled back onto the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, lips latching onto your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh.

His cock rubbed against the outside of your pussy and you both groaned.

"Fuck," he mumbled. "Do I need a condom?"

"Pill," you gasped as you shook your head. "Wanna feel you fill me up, Rafa."

He let out a low growl and his eyes turned even more feral. He gave you no warning as he plunged his cock deep inside of you, stretching you in ways you'd never been stretched before.

"Rafael!" you cried out at the sensation.

Normally he would have forced himself to give you time to adjust, but his mind was too far gone. He set a brutal pace almost instantly and you were simply along for the ride.

There were so many new sensations that you were having a hard time staying focused. Everything just felt so incredible.

Your pussy throbbed around him, pulling him in even deeper. "Te sienetes muy bien, querida." [You feel so good, sweetheart.]

You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as you arched against him.

"Te gusta cuando te hablo español, ¿no?" he growled into your ear. [You like it when I speak Spanish to you, don't you?"]

"Yes!" you gasped.

"Chica sucia," he chuckled darkly. [Dirty girl.]

"Rafa, please--I'm so close."

He groaned. "Quiero que vengas conmigo, cariño," he mumbled. [I want you to cum with me, sweetheart.] "Can you do that for me?" he asked in English.

You nodded your head rapidly.

"Esa es mi buena chica," he praised. [That's my good girl.]

You moaned lowly, preening at his praise. He smiled and picked up his pace, not wanting to stop until he felt you fall apart. "So close," he mumbled.

"Don't--stop!"

He knew you were close--could tell by the way your pussy fluttered around him--so he whispered, "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your orgasm hit you with more force than either of the two you'd had earlier. Rafael groaned your name as he spilled his seed within you, filling you up as your walls milked him dry.

You both began to come down from your highs, the intensity of your orgasms taking the wind out of both of you. Rafael pulled out and collapsed beside you, completely spent and satiated.

"That was pretty decent," you said between breaths.

He snapped his head in your direction and started to laugh when he saw the mischief in your eyes.

You grinned and joined in on his laughter, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him.

"Very decent," he muttered against your hair.

You laughed again. "'Fucking incredible' would be a more accurate description."

"I couldn't agree more." He sighed softly. "I don't wanna move."

"Who says we have to?"

"We probably should...we do have work in the morning after all."

Your body tensed slightly and he felt it, realizing how his previous statement may have sounded. "I want you to stay, querida. I'm just saying we should probably get up and shower before we fall asleep."

You relaxed. "You may have to carry me."

He chuckled and dragged himself out of bed, pulling you along with him. He scooped you up despite your protests and carried you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter while he started the shower.

"I was kidding, Rafa!"

He smiled. "If my girl can walk immediately after sex, then I did something wrong. I'm always happy to carry you."

You smiled back at him, realizing he was completely serious. You watched him quietly, completely lost in thought.

"Where's your mind, querida?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. "I'm happy...that's all."

Rafael kissed you gently. "Me too, hermosa. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Once you were both clean and dry, he carried you back to his bed and laid you down gently before crawling into the bed beside you. He tugged you in closely against his chest and you sighed contentedly.

"Go to sleep, cariño. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."

Somehow he seemed to know exactly what you needed to hear. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere and feeling his strong arms wrapped around you, allowed you to feel a calm peace you'd not felt in years.

Within minutes, you'd drifted off to sleep in his arms. Just before he fell asleep too, Rafael kissed the top of your head and whispered, "Te adoro con locura." [I adore you madly.]

[bitchinbarzal]

Disappear | S Reid

summary: how does a child, the daughter of a federal agent go missing from a police station.

-

Spencer took his eye off her for five minutes, just to help deliver the profile.

When he got back to the room, Violet was gone. Spencer was checking everywhere for her screaming her name repeatedly, praying she was just playing games.

Everyone was searching for her, until the woman from the front desk walked in holding a letter

“Someone just dropped this off for Doctor Reid?”

He grabbed it, a little too roughly but understandable for the moment.

“Reid, what does it say?” Hotch asked from across the room.

Spencer shakily held up a pink bow, the one Violet was wearing only an hour ago “He has her”

“Who?”

“The unsub”

Spencer didn’t want to call you, it somehow made it more real. You’d left her with him for an afternoon while you were in court, it was only supposed to be a couple hours.

“How do you think Y/N is going to-“

“You lost my daughter?!” Derek was interrupted by your screaming from the bullpen, hopping off his chair

“I think that answers my question”

The team stepped out of the board room to find you storming over to Spencer’s desk, pounding on his chest, sobbing

“Spence, you better be lying! She better be in there and this is some twisted prank! I can’t lose her, we can’t lose our babygirl-“

He shoves your face into his chest, hushing you “I know, I know I’m so sorry we’re gonna get this guy”

You whimper as you pull back “Why would he take her, what does he want with her?”

He strokes your hair as he whispers “I’m gonna find out”

Days turned over as the team worked the case, constantly hitting brick walls. They couldn’t find this guy.

The team, Spencer specifically had been chasing him for days on end. Constantly showing up to locations just to be let down.

Neither yourself nor Spencer had slept since the day Violet disappeared and with everyday the two of you began to turn against one another.

“We see this with every couple who lose a child, they’re not different because they work with these cases often” Rossi explained as Garcia spilled her worries to the group.

She pouted “they’re so perfect though and, and I don’t want them to fight because we’re going to find Vi, right?”

The team all shared a silent look around the room and Penelope asked again “right?”

JJ sighed and rubbed Penelope’s arm “the first twenty four hours are the most crucial in child kidnappings. They know that. We’re on day three, it’s not unlikely they’re losing hope”

“But, but Violet was the only child-“

Before Garcia could say anything else, your shouting interrupted her. The team looked out the conference room window to find the two of you standing around your desk fighting.

“You lost her! You had one job Spencer!”

“She shouldn’t have even been there, if you had just planned your day instead of tossing her around like a toy like a real mom-“

“Oh so now I’m a bad mom?” You growled, arms crossed over your chest.

Spencer sighed “I didn’t say that, but-“

“But what Spence? But you were supposed to be watching our daughter, but he only took her because of you! He said in his note this was revenge because you shot his girlfriend!” You shouted, now prodding at his chest with every point “This is all you-“

The door to the BAU room swung open, a very disheveled intern from the front desk holding a phone up “Reid?”

“Yes?” Both of you said in unison, ultimately confusing the poor kid.

“Um there’s a little girl on the phone, she says she’s looking for her mommy at the BAU… I don’t know if it’s a prank or-“

He couldn’t finish the sentence before you grabbed the phone “Vi?”

“Mommy…” she whimpered “I got the phone”

You smiled through your tears, so relieved she was alive “You did baby, you did what we told you to. You’re such a good girl”

From a young age you’d both instilled in her what were to happen if she was taken by a stranger - morbid to some but you two had seen your fair share of horrors. Being Liaison you’d seen the countless children in your files.

You’d made her rehearse the number and to ask for the BAU. Her brain similar to her father’s made ingraining this into her somewhat easy.

Behind the phone Spencer was pulling you to the conference room and instructing Penelope to trace the call.

You put her on speaker “Violet, baby we’re all here looking for you sweetheart”

“Why hasn’t daddy found me yet? Is he coming?” She sounded so tired, so defeated.

“I’m here sweetheart, I promise I’m coming to get you” he jumped in, his voice full of emotion.

Spencer stepped back from the table, taking a second to collect himself. His little girl sounded so hurt, so sure he wasn’t coming to save her.

“Auntie Penelope is finding where you are right now baby, don’t hang up” you added, bringing to conversation back to her.

“But what if he comes back? ‘Nelope be quick”

“Don’t hang up sunshine, don’t hang up I’m working as quick as I can” she says, her eyes also full of tears. You’d always wondered why she did this job, everything getting to her.

“I can hear him” she mumbles “I gotta go”

“No!” You all yell at once, before you add “Vi baby, hide the phone but do not hang up!”

Her voice trembled “Mommy I’m scared, please-“

The line ended, the beeping sound of the disconnected call pounding in your ears.

“Got it!” Penelope’s exclamation has your knees weak, you can’t even hear the address she recites. You just follow everyone out the room and to the car.

You don’t end up in with Spencer as usual, instead you’re beside Emily as she drives.

Your knee is jerking up and down, your anxiety tick.

“We’re almost there, we are like three minutes out” she reassured you.

You bit your lip “I just want my babygirl back, I- If I lose her I lose Reid and -“

“That is not going to happen” she assured, voice stern “We heard her, she’s smart you guys have taught her well!”

By the time you had arrived the rest of the team had already entered the house, you could hear the yelling before gunshots.

You gasped, moving faster into the house. You guys found them in the basement, Reid desperately kicking in doors and yelling out Violets name.

You turned to the other corridor, the basement resembling a prison and began doing the same

“Violet?!”

Behind the second door you burst through you heard her before you saw her “Mommy!”

She was laying in the arms of a woman, the latest victim prior to Violet. She had Violet shielded from the door.

Violet threw herself across the room into your arms “You came for me!”

“I did baby, we did. We told you we’d come find you” you held her head in the crook of your neck.

She pulled back to look at the woman, now being helped by Emily “I told you they’d find us, they’re so good”

She smiled softly at Violet, even though she was visibly in pain “You’re a lucky girl”

With Violet’s head nestled in your neck again you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the woman, a silent way of saying I know you protected my baby

Carrying Violet out into the hallway you saw Spencer, heading towards you stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Violet in your arms.

“Vi, look” you whispered, her head lifting to look at him. She smiled widely, as tired as she was.

“Daddy! You came to save me!” Spencer enclosed his arms around you both, peppering kisses all over Violets face “We’ll always come save you Angel”

There was a mutual look of relief between you both when you looked at him, finally holding your girl again.

On route to the hospital to get Violet checked out she wouldn’t stop babbling “And I wasn’t even scared!”

“You’re so strong sweet girl!” You exclaim, hand gripping her leg from the passenger seat. Your subconscious not wanting to let her go.

When she was taken into the doctors bay to be checked out, you were asked to wait outside; so she could answer some questions without parental pressure.

The second you were alone you looked at Spencer and began to cry, tears running down his cheeks already.

“I thought we lost her” he mumbled “It was all my fault”

“No! No, spence I didn’t mean that-“

“No it was! I was supposed to care for her-“ you stopped him by putting your hand over his mouth

“We’ve got our girl, we’re good parents Spence! We taught her everything she needs to know in these situations. I love you, I love Violet. We’ve got this”

You were basking in the silence together for one moment before you heard Violet yelling “Mommy come find me again!”

You chuckled “coming babygirl! As funny as this moment is with her, she’s gonna need therapy”

Spencer, so seriously replied “oh definitely I’ve already called someone”

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 13

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 3.8K+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

note | it's been so long! let me know what u think of this one. enjoy!

main masterlist | series masterlist

Maybe it was a sign.

After two years of focusing on other aspects of your life, you finally opened yourself up for getting into the dating game. But, nothing has been fruitful in these last three dates you have gone to. Or Martha is just a bad matchmaker.

Well, it’s not her fault your date cannot come tonight. Your date, Jung Hoseok, was not able to show up tonight. You had to wait for almost thirty minutes in that chair, with your ex-boyfriend in front of you with his own date, before Hoseok called to say that he was needed in the hospital all of a sudden.

“Hey, YN?” You can sense how gentle his tone is when you answer the call.

“Uh, hey.” you chuckled awkwardly, easing off the twist you could feel in your stomach. “Where are you?”

Then, you heard a small sigh from the other line followed by a sentence, “I’m on my way back to the hospital. I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

Your heart dropped. You felt your shoulder deflating with that sad, pathetic sound you hear from a balloon when air slowly empties. Not knowing what to say, you waited for him to say something.

“I’m really, really sorry, YN. I am so excited to meet you but I got a call from the hospital and there was this big road accident. They needed me back there. I’m so sorry.” he explained.

Pursing your lips, you looked down your lap, “It’s fine, I understand.”

No second thoughts, you just replied that. You used to work in the same field as him. Of course, you know how hectic and stressful working in the hospital can be, particularly in the emergency department, where Martha said he works.

“I’m really sorry. I promise to make it up to you. Thank you so much, YN. I appreciate it so much.”

“No problem.” you hung up. You took one last sip in the cold glass of water.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at–

Stubborn, your eyes rolled to your side, where you can see him without really moving your head. A boxy smile is formed on Taehyung’s lips while he chat with the woman in front of him. You can only see the lady’s back but you can tell that the two are having a great time with each other’s company. 

Well, at least one is having a great date.

When you became conscious of your nose flaring, you looked away and decided to go. The host instantly met your eyes, where you see the last thing you want to see from someone: an apologetic smile. You returned it with a forced smile.

“He had an emergency,” you told him with an awkward chuckle even though he didn’t say anything.

He nods as he helps you with your coat, “That’s a shame.”

“I know. My best friend even picked this pretty dress for this date.” you quipped in an attempt to lighten up the conversation. The host laughed at that. You turned to him as you fixed your beige-colored coat, “Anyway, I’ll go back here next time with him.”

You walk out of Starry Night and almost instantly, your smile fades away from your lips. You hoped Taehyung didn’t notice you leaving. Maybe he didn’t, he is on a date. Of course, he won’t pay attention to someone who left him and never showed up again after saying that she would come back to their house to talk—

Stop.

Those rambling thoughts almost suffocated you within seconds as you got lost in it, making you shake your head. Your jaw tightened before you reached for your phone. I should just go home. You click on the app to look for your ride. And within a few seconds, you spotted someone just right around your location.

“This one’s just a few minutes away–”

“YN?”

You froze, index finger a few millimeters close to touching your phone screen as you were about to book for a ride. He didn’t have to repeat your name again just so you could tell who said it. Before saying anything, you turned around. Your eyes widened while your shoulders raised, acting surprised. It was probably a lame try.

“H-Hey!” you greeted him, tone a bit higher than normal.

“I thought you were already gone.” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Long time no see! How are you? Why are you outside?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m fine. I’m actually going home. How about you?” 

“I’m about to go too. I just came here from Seoul to meet someone,” he replied. “I actually drove coming here.”

Your eyebrows raised in real surprise, “Oh, you’re driving again?”

“Yeah, it became handy since the bakery now does ‘For Delivery’ orders. I do the delivery job most of the time.” 

You nodded in delight, “That’s really great. It’s nice to hear the bakery is growing more successful.”

You smiled, hoping that he felt your sincerity, and Taehyung replied with a small thank you.  His hands were in his pants’ pockets while you rubbed your hands together, both looking around. For a few seconds, you two waited for someone to say something.  But no one did. This invincible, empty space between you two grew bigger in a short silence. You can only hear the jazz music from the restaurant inside and the crickets which are somewhere outside tonight. 

You took that time to scan your eyes from his shoes to every feature of him you always notice. He seemed taller, maybe because of the shoes. His shoulders did look a bit broader, making you wonder if he began going to the gym again. His cheeks still seem soft but slimmer than the last time you saw him. You hope he’s been eating well, and taking care of himself. His hair did not change much. He still keeps the same length. Not too short, not too long. And when your eyes travel back to his eyes, your heartbeat stops when you realize he is looking directly back at you. In a snap, you turned your eyes away.

“So… you said you are going home?” he recalled, breaking the smothering silence.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for my ride.”

Liar. You haven’t even booked a ride yet. Well, you were just about to if he didn’t suddenly show up.

“Or I could just drive you home?” he offered, making you look at him.

“You’re driving back to Seoul, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“It will take you longer to drive back home. It can take an hour,” you told him as you know how far these two cities are from each other.

But he shrugged it off, “It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

For someone who just ran in with an ex unexpectedly, he seems to be handling this better than you.

Because it was just strange for you. Happy? Sad? Scared? Neither of those. Admittedly, you were surprised when you saw him inside. But now, talking to him, you just don’t know what to feel. You were never prepared for what to do when you see him again. For hell’s sake, you stopped planning this last two years. You just let things happen and never expected life would send Taehyung to Incheon while waiting for your date– Wait, date!

“But how about your date? Are you not going to drive her home?” you asked, recalling the woman he was chatting with earlier.

Why is he even here? He should be with her right now. Did he forget about her?

Expecting a different reaction, you were confused when he narrowed his eyes as he said, “Date? What date?”

Your brows furrowed, “Weren’t you just on a date with someone inside?”

“Hmm...” a tight smile formed on his lips, making you assume that you were right about him forgetting his date. But he continued, “Do you mean Ashley? She’s a client who wants to have my cakes on her restaurant’s menu.”

“Oh.”

It was like a bucket of cold water splashed over you. If you can just facepalm yourself right now without looking stupid, you would. Instead, you looked down and grimaced at your dumb assumption, remembering how you spent your free time while waiting earlier wondering and eyeing him and his date.

On the other hand, Taehyung has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling at your flustered reaction. He felt like what happened broke the tension that had been lingering between you and him. His heart has not stopped beating like crazy ever since he talked to you five minutes ago. His hands, that are still in his pockets, were trembling that you might notice it so he kept them there. He really didn’t think this through when he approached you. 

It took you a few more seconds to look at him again. This time, with a look he recognized from one of the photos he saw in the photo album before. It was an apologetic, guilty expression that he finds adorable.

“I’m sorry. I thought that you were on a date.”

He shook his head side by side, “I don’t– I’m not.”

He had to stop himself from saying he doesn’t date or did not date anyone ever since you two went separate ways. It may sound like he has been miserable this past couple of years– he’s not. He just doesn’t feel like putting himself out there again. Especially when he feels like he has some unfinished things from his past relationship. But he was relieved to see you here. He can tell you’re doing great.

The color, the brand, the familiar fruity scent of air freshener.

These were the first things you noticed as soon as you got in his car. You almost felt comfortable in the passenger seat since everything was almost the same as his old car when you two were still together. Even after the whole accident, he ended up choosing the same things he chose before he forgot those five years of his life.

“So… when did you start driving again?” you asked to fill the empty silence while he drove, following the address you typed in his GPS.

“Just a year ago. Jimin was worried at first but eventually became supportive,” he replied, smiling at you when he mentioned his best friend.

“It’s funny, you have almost the same car you have years ago.”

You don’t know why, but you felt like saying that. It was totally in contrast to how quiet you were about your relationship with the people you met here. You avoided talking about your past relationship with Taehyung, specifically the accident and its aftermath, ever since you moved to Incheon. The friends you made here barely know about him. They know that you were in a long-term relationship years ago but they are not aware of the accident and why you two broke up.

“Huh, really?” Taehyung kept his eyes on the road but you could tell he was interested to hear more about it. 

“Yeah, it has the same color and brand. I can even tell you the air freshener you used because you like the same ones from that Japanese brand.” you quipped, chuckling.

“Okay, what is it?” he challenged you.

You didn’t even waste a second to answer, “Air Spencer, the Squash one. But it smells like citrus. You like it because it’s strangely boosting your mood and you don’t know why.”

Taehyung laughed at that, agreeing, “And until now, I don’t know why! But I just bought it when I saw it while shopping months ago.”

“You were curious about its packaging?” you guessed.

“Yep.” Taehyung smiled. “And I think it was the best purchase I made for this car.”

You laughed at that before recalling a similar sentence from the back of your head.

“See– I mean, smell! Don’t it smell good?” 

Taehyung opened the door to his car’s passenger seat after waiting for you to finish your graveyard shift for almost an hour. When you were on your short break, you two exchanged texts and he brought up this topic: after almost a year of looking for a good air freshener. He bragged about this air freshener until your break ended since he was so sure that you would love it too, knowing that you get dizzy if he used those strong scents.

You cannot help but laugh with his childish enthusiasm, “Okay, okay! Let me take it in for a minute.”

You smiled and he watched you calmly inhaling the fresh citrus scent. Then, you slowly opened your eyes. For a thrill, you kept a plain expression on your face.

“And? What do we think?” he asked.

You raised your hand with a thumbs-up, grinning. “This one’s great! Keep it.”

“I knew it! Okay, this is officially my best purchase of the year.” he quipped before turning the key to start the car.

You softly smiled at the memory. It felt easy remembering it now and the same as talking to Taehyung about the past now. Strange. You remembered how many times you stopped yourself from talking too much about it before when Taehyung got back from the hospital.

“Can I ask something?” Taehyung said as he stopped for a red light in an empty intersection. He took the time to glance at you.

“Yeah, sure.” you shifted on your seat, feeling more comfortable now.

“What you were doing in the restaurant alone?”

You looked away as you replied, “I… I was supposed to meet up with someone.”

“A date?”

The traffic light turned green and he kept his eyes on the road when he asked that. Even though Taehyung denies it, he felt something in his gut while waiting for you to answer. There is just something in him heightening that just wants to hear a confirmation that yes, you are dating someone. 

“Yup.”

His stomach dropped as he held the steering wheel firmer.

You continued, “But he had a work emergency. So, he had to skip tonight.”

“Oh, what’s his job?

If your boyfriend prioritizes his job over you, then–

“He’s a doctor, working in the emergency department. So, I understand when he called and explained earlier.” you cut off any thought he had.

A nurse and a doctor. That seems to fit perfectly for each other.

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Oh, no. We’re not dating dating. Tonight was supposedly our first date. My friend from work set us up for a blind date. They have been trying so hard to get me into a relationship for months now after I agreed earlier this year. But so far, nothing great has been happening.” you joked as you looked outside the window.

Do you know how comfortable you must be to talk to an ex about your current status in dating?

But this is easy. 

Talking with him. Maybe because you two haven’t seen each other for a couple of years. You feel okay telling him everything. Or maybe because it was just with him. It was like you were talking with the guy you met years ago. But whatever the reason is, you prefer this whole conversation to the ones you two had after the accident.

“Well, I haven’t been in the dating scene for a long time. I am just focusing on the bakery. I already lost count of customers who want to set me up with their daughters and granddaughters.”

Taehyung brought up his own dating status after you opened up yours. You were being honest, he can feel it. And it would be unfair if he didn’t reciprocate the same thing. The fear he had to look miserable when admitting he didn’t date anyone after you faded when you opened up about your own status– without looking miserable at all. Just honest.

“Really? Why did you never get into one?” you asked.

And even though Taehyung can think of a good reason in the back of his head, he only replies with the same reply he said to everyone who asked him before.

“Eh, I don’t feel like it.”

“There. That’s my building.”

You pointed your index finger to your apartment building after Taehyung took a left turn. He looks at the white, five-floored building, sticking out like a sore thumb as it stands between high towers of buildings. He slowed down and stopped in front of the said building.  He waited for you to remove the seatbelt before calling your name. You look at him.

“Hey… uhm, The shop might have a small celebration in Seoul after the whole contract signing thing and I was hoping that maybe you can come? I’m sure Jimin would invite you too if he was the one who met with Ashley tonight. You can also bring some friends from here if you want to.” he suggested, trying to maintain his composure as he spoke.

It took you a few seconds to respond. You looked at him then looked away for a few moments. Then, looked back at him again. It lasted for only less than a minute. But Taehyung felt like it was the longest one minute of his life until you nodded.

“That sounds nice. I’ll think about it…” you replied, not really wanting to commit to a final answer tonight. “But thank you so much for driving me home.”

“No problem. You're welcome.”

You got out of the car with your purse in your hand. The cool breeze blew your hair and you had to tuck it at the back of your ear as you took one last peek down to the open window. You have this small smile on your lips that just brought warmth to his chest.

“I didn’t change my number. Did you?” you asked.

He shook his head for an answer.

“Then, I’ll reach out if I can celebrate with you guys. Okay?”

The last time you told him something about reaching out, you ended up typing and erasing letters in your phone a thousand times. But now that you two met each other incidentally, maybe you will find it easier to send him a text. 

“Okay. It was nice seeing you again, YN.” 

A faint smile formed on his lips, revealing those familiar smile lines you used to trace years ago. You reciprocated it.

“Yeah, you too. Drive safely back to Seoul.”

Turning your back, you walked to your building. You thought about how tonight was unexpected. Running to an ex you never saw for the last two years and how amicable everything between you two is, considering how you went on separate ways. Before opening the door, you turned around. Surprised to see him still there, you chuckled and gave him a small wave.

He waved back. And when he sees you getting into your building, Taehyung begins to drive away. The same smile stays on his face unconsciously. He hummed along to the pop song from the radio. Just when he was driving along the long highway back to Seoul, his phone rang. He accepted the call after seeing who it was.

“Hey, I’m on my way back,” Taehyung stated.

“Oh, okay. How was tonight?” Jimin inquired, still unaware of unforeseen events that happened.

With his head on the clouds with whom he just spent the last thirty minutes, Taehyung replied, “It was… unanticipated.”

“Huh?”

Confused, that was the only thing his best friend managed to say. That’s when Taehyung snapped out to reality.

“Oh, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. But it went great.”

“Taehyung told me everything.”

Almost two weeks after you broke things off with Taehyung and moved into your new apartment, you found an unexpected guest on your doorstep. Jimin holds a familiar box of their own bakeshop cake as he offers a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Then, Jisoo told me where you moved,” he explained further before you pushed your door wider to let him in.

You still haven’t changed from your work clothes since you only got home like ten minutes ago from your new job. You see him looking around your place and you are glad your home isn’t as messy as it was days ago. Then, he turns to you.

“I brought you this carrot cake as a gift. I know you love Taehyung’s cheesecake but we ran out of those today.” he quipped, handing you the box.

“I like your carrot cake too. Don’t worry. Thank you, Jimin.” you smiled but it slowly faded, “I’m sorry if it was too sudden.”

Your voice sounded small as you apologized. Knowing Jimin for years now, he became one of your closest friends too through Taehyung. You knew he was probably surprised too when he learned about what happened between you and his best friend. You thought that maybe he was mad too.

But instead, Jimin sighed and opened his arms for you. You sighed too before hugging him. It felt warm and comforting.

“You don’t need to say sorry. You don’t owe anyone anything,” he said. “I came by to check how are you. You’re my friend too, you know?”

And before you could answer, he spoke again, “Actually, how about we talk about this over food?”

That’s how you two ended up having a one-on-one conversation in a McDonald’s parking lot for hours. You opened up about your feelings and thoughts the last few days before Jisoo’s wedding and how you reacted after learning about Taehyung meeting Lily. Thirty-four minutes past eight in the evening, you ended up telling your side. Empty ketchup packets lay on the hood of Jimin’s car next to crumpled burger wrapping papers. You and Jimin leaned on the car.

“I just felt like we need to be apart. I’m burning out, I needed to get away. We needed to be on our own.” you exhaled.

“But what if his memories come back?”

There was never a time you thought about that question every time you felt down since the accident. It made you stay before. But you later figured out that hope is tiring you out and you cannot give anything from you anymore.

“I cannot hold on to a what-if, Jimin,” you replied. “I thought I could. But he’s in another timeline and I don’t exist in that part of his life. As much as I want to stay with him, I know that he’s still thinking of something else from his past.”

Reality hurts, and sometimes honesty too. You just sighed with how melancholy that realization made you days before deciding to leave Seoul.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just…” you looked at Jimin when he had to pause and take a deep breath to speak again. “I really hate how that accident changed everything for you guys.”

You took a sip from your Sprite, looking at a distance, “I know.”

Me too.

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[soobrat]

괜찮아, 괜찮아 (Fantasy); qk

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ pairing; kun x female!reader

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ words; 3.3k

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ genre; smut, fluff

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ warnings; dom!kun, sub!reader, mc got that dawg in her (she's a pathetic, horny, pervert), privacy invasion, use of a condom (I can't believe it!!), cunnilingus, two reader orgasms, constant check-ins, aftercare crumbs, very soft but passionate smut, let me know if I missed anything

↻ ◁ || ▷ : The ultimate soft dom, Qian Kun everyone. Thanks for requesting! Oh! And obviously listen to Fantasy by Fei while reading the smut.

How long… 

You can barely finish the sentence in your mind amidst the anguish. Twenty minutes ago you were finally able to filter your friends out of your home. You don’t know if they got together to conspire behind your back or if they naturally decided your place was the hangout spot.  

All it took was you telling the group chat that there was a spare key under the welcome mat. You explained that it was in case they were nearby and needed something urgently. Now you come home from work and find three people on your couch, someone in the kitchen, and someone using your computer to play minecraft. Unless you’re looking for an impromptu party, you immediately clean house.

That’s what had to happen today. They were in the middle of a session of Mario Party on your switch, begging you to let them finish first before you kick them out. You would’ve been a little lenient, maybe even sat and watched, but something was going on with you. You weren’t sure if your period was coming soon or what, but you’ve been so utterly horny you’ve gone brain dead. 

Fifty minutes ago you spent far too long at work zoned out while staring at your computer screen. You were slack jawed, vivid depictions of filthy hardcore sex playing in your mind. You switched from celebrity to celebrity, then to old flames, then to hot strangers you’ve had fleeting encounters with. All your options were exhausted and your brain was reduced to goo. That’s how you rationalize images of a shirtless Kun making an appearance in your latest fantasy. The forefront of your mind fought against it. This was gonna make things weird in one way or another you thought as the back of your mind broadcasted more and more. Kun groping you through your clothes on a train. Kun taking you upstairs during a party. Kun fingering you under the table at a packed restaurant. 

Like never before, your mind was igniting, and so was your core. Forty minutes ago was when your shift ended and you rushed to the bathroom. It was unreasonable to assume you soaked through your pants, but you could feel how saturated it was. The wetness sat uncomfortably against your mound. You wipe off what you can and rush out of there. You had a long list of ideas for porn to watch and you were planning to stretch the session for as long as you could.

Thirty minutes before your humiliation, you step into the door to encounter your obstacle. Five pairs of eyes look up at you, some guilty, some unabashed.

“Please let us finish. It’s the least you can do.” Hendery’s begging is rendered unconvincing by his entitled undertone. You cock an eyebrow up at him. He holds a frightened expression before caving. “No, you’re right.”

“But it’s your turn to roll!” Yeri whines, grabbing Hendery to stop him from gathering his things.

“Get up.” You state emotionlessly. The longer you’re deprived from touching yourself, the more irritable you become. Cycling through glaring at each of them ends up with you meeting Kun’s gaze. Your annoyed expression drops, your mouth dropping open a bit as well. He smiles nervously at you.

“Looks like you had a long day at work today?” His question makes you realize he’s not nervous about being scolded, but because he’s concerned about you. It’s a touching realization that shouldn’t be shooting lightning straight to your core. See? Things are weird now.

“Yeah. Really long.” Your mouth suddenly goes dry as all the agonizing fantasies involving him come to mind.

“Alright, guys.” Kun uses his player one privileges to close the game out, taking the time to turn the switch off despite the groans and protests around him. “Let's give her her house back.” Kun reaches over to tug an urgently protesting Yeri up from the couch. You alternate between monitoring the slackers making excuses to stay and monitoring Kun. His unwavering authority over everyone has you pressing your vagina between your thighs as discreetly as possible.

Back to twenty minutes ago when you wave goodbye to Kun, him seemingly moving in slow motion as the closing door gradually reduced your vision of him to nothing. You didn’t have time to mourn this when an overwhelming wave of arousal hits you once you realize you’re finally alone. You rush to your room, squealing as you hop onto your bed. You’re trying to get things started as fast as you can but trying to shove your headphones in your ear while pushing your pants off might’ve been delaying things. You eventually get situated, excitement thrumming through you as you find the perfect porn video.

“Oh shit.” Kun slams one of his hands onto the steering wheel. 

“What?” Sooyoung asks from the backseat. “Forget something?”

Kun’s ensuing sigh answers the question for her. “My wallet. I dropped it in her room while I was getting her switch. I forgot to go back and grab it.”

“Does that mean we’re going back?” Yeri asks excitedly.

“No, leave that woman alone! I’ll drop you guys off and then go back.”

“Fine.” Yeri replies petulantly. “Then just drop me off at YangYang’s.”

“Me too.” Hendery says, followed by an echo from Sooyoung.

“Party at my place, yeah! Come straight to my place after you get it. Tell Ms. Bossy she can come too once she’s done being a stick-in-the-mud.”

Kun groans, not knowing where to start. Instead he just opts for agreeing. One could argue Kun dropping them off individually would’ve bought you more time. That doesn’t change the fact you were planning to go until your hands were tired and all your toys were dead. You would’ve been better off if Kun had forgotten about his wallet until tomorrow. It didn’t matter now that twenty minutes had passed.

You don’t hear the front door opening, you don’t hear Kun yell out to you, you don’t hear him open your bedroom door. Of course you don’t, because you have loud moaning, skin slapping, and sloshing noises blasting in your ears. 

Kun wants to look away but remains focused in your direction. Should he try to grab his wallet secretly and leave? Or should he try to get your attention? And then what? Try to convince you it isn’t a big deal that he saw you rubbing your clit and watched your juices roll down until they soiled your comforter? Kun clenches his eyes shut before blinking them a few times. What was he doing?

No, he should walk back out– carefully– and text you from outside the house so you could get situated. Problem solved. Still, his feet remain rooted in the same spot.

“Kun, please~”

A strong sensation plows into him like a truck. You say his name so salaciously he can feel his cock humming. He looks down, cursing himself for wearing pajama bottoms as a joke. You can see his hardening member clear as day. A gasp from you tears his attention away. You both gape at each other in horror. To answer the question currently haunting you– how long has he been standing there– not that long, but long enough.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Kun speaks first, face-palming with a hearty groan. He peaks up at you, guilt very obvious in his face. He notices the way your eyes track downward. He worries lip.

“I know, I’m making things even weirder… Although I think you’re partly to blame for that too.” He explains as if he’s breaking the news to you. Your heart drops out of your ass as you scramble to sit up on your bed.

“What do you mean?” The words tumble out of your mouth. Only then do you realize your bottom half is very much still bare. You swipe one of your pillows and lay it over your lap. 

“I um… I heard you say my name–”

You cry out in anguish as you cover your face. Kun moves closer, trying to console you but your dramatic wailing is too loud.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!”

“How?! How is it okay?!” You unintentionally scream at the man. Kun’s head rolls over his shoulders, his gaze hazarding toward his cock that’s showing no interest in softening.

“Maybe because we’re in the same boat?” He sounds unsure, or maybe it’s just how awkward this situation is. You sigh heavily, though it does nothing to drain the worry from your body.

“What do we do from here? It’s up to you.” Kun asks. You presume he’s asking you if you want to proceed like adults and acknowledge what happened, or bury it and take it to your graves. That’s not where your brain goes, though. You look at the way he regards you, that look in his eye he has for everyone. Authoritative care is what you’ll call it for now. Before you appreciated it because he was a dependable, great friend. Now you can’t stop thinking about anything but him coaxing you sweetly toward an orgasm.

“Help?” You blurt out, in hopes you don’t have to spell it out for him. Either way, the two of you are walking away from this with your friendship irreparably changed. Why not get something out of it? Kun looks at you in confusion and you sigh frustratedly. Only as you start to explain does his confusion dissipate.

“Help me… I’ll help you–”

Kun climbs onto your bed, kneeling in front of you. “I can help you.” He agrees, his voice soothing you. You can’t help humming at the way he phrases it. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to the side. You don’t get to be self-conscious about being exposed again, not when he’s already reaching down and scooping up your essence. He breathes a laugh.

“Something tells me you’re already ready to take me.”

Your face heats up but your eyes darken. You nod dumbly, agreeing with the obvious. He comments under his breath about how cute you are. You’re already missing his fingers down there.

“I still want to be sure.” His eyes implore you to give permission.

“Please?” The plea is wispy and pathetic. His eyes darken to match yours, it’s the first time you’ve seen him so openly hungry for something. He moves his soiled fingers toward his lips, hesitating for a second before plunging them into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as he savors the taste. Your breathing becomes labored as you watch him doing something so filthy, something you thought you’d never see it outside of your fantasies.

“I want to taste more of you.” His voice deepens, sending a chill up your spine. With his hands on either side of your midriff, he eases you lower. You lie flat as he sinks to rest between your legs. His tongue eagerly laps at your mound. You crane your head back until it hits the mattress as his tongue presses firmly against you. Curving against your mound as he drags iti upward. It’s slow, so slow. You fist the sheets– it’s perfect, but you need more.

You plunge your fingers into the soft threads of his hair, clenching them and pushing him closer. He hums disapprovingly against you, pulling away to unlatch your hands from his hair. You pout, itching to disobey. 

“Be patient.” He says lightly. Butterflies flutter inside your stomach as you drop your hands to your sides. You keep your eyes on him, aching for his approval. 

“Good girl.”

Every inch of your skin ignites, every tiny hair standing on end. Your body feels like it’ll spark if he touches it, and he buries his face into your pussy. You cry out, throwing your head back. The heightened sensitivity doesn’t stop the entire time he laves over your clit. He uses his fingers to spread your folds, making sure your clit is fully exposed. You want to thrash and squirm against him, but you wouldn’t be a good girl if you did that. You would be getting in the way of him giving you what you asked for. So you fist your covers, whimpers and whines floating into the air.

He hums against you again, this time it sounds peaceful. Pleased with pleasing him, your body melts into the bed. This earns you another delightful hum. The static shocks of pleasure subside in favor of a distant one. One rumbling too far away but approaching quickly. As it closes in on you you feel the urge again. You want to press him in closer, clamp your thighs around him. But his eyes are looking intently at you, soft with their persuasion, keeping you good. 

So instead your moans become fuller. Wanton oh’s and curses trickle from your lips. You screw your face up, everything becoming tighter the closer it comes. That coil is compressing tightly and you just know it’s about to snap.

“I’m gonna cum.” You say almost in distress as fretful moans fight free from you. “I’m gonna cum!”

You buck against Kun’s face, fists tightening around your covers and cracking some of your joints. The orgasm comes in waves, whipping you with electricity that borders on unbearable. Your vision whites out and in the middle of your clouded thinking you wonder if you’re still fantasizing. Kun rubs soothing, slow circles into your clit as he climbs up your body.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispers right next to your ear, his hot breath raising goosebumps where it lands. He peppers kisses up from your shoulder to right under your ear as he slows his finger to a stop. “Are you ready?” He breathes out as he maneuvers to face you. Your eyes rake down his figure, his lips, the column of his throat, his shoulder, his chest. You linger on his arms, reaching up to fondle his muscles. He chuckles, his head dropping down and resting his forehead against yours.

He rolls off of you to shimmy off his pajama pants. You watch as the pair you used to associate with unstimulating situations are discarded and sullied in your mind forever. His shirt is slowly peeled away to reveal the toned stomach you’ve only seen peeks of. You couldn’t help your mouth watering then and nothing has changed now, especially with the dark hair leading to what you need the most. The boxers hugging his hips sit as low as they can without revealing himself. Not that it matters with how prominently his manhood is bulging from them. 

He gives those a shimmy as well, pulling them over the hump of his dick. The band finally gives way, springing his cock free. He exhales shakily, his arm flexing as he closes his hand around the shaft and drags his fist all the way down. The member flings up again, slapping against his stomach. Your breath catches as the urge to whine overwhelms you.

He discards his underwear and swings his leg back over you, regarding you with an attentive gaze. You nod again before he can even ask if you’re okay. 

“Good.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead. Hearing the first word of the phrase you crave and how long this is taken is giving you blue balls. You take a quick breath before flitting your eyes up at him.

“I want you.” You whisper.

“I know.” He replies with those passionate eyes and that warm smile. He scoops his hips lower, his tip brushing against your mound. “I want you too.”

He leans over to the nightstand right by your head, giving you an up close view to his pecs. You’re so distracted by the view that you don’t question what he’s doing. He comes back up with a condom in hand. Your brows squeeze together and you nearly ask him how he knew they were there, but that’s not a priority. Your priority is what he’s slipping the condom over right now. You swallow hard as the latex rolls every ridge and vein. You hum lewdly as you press your glossed lips against each other. Kun hisses as he lines himself up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long–”

He drops that bomb just before easing himself in. Your shock gets caught in your throat, becoming a gargled moan. It means so much more now that he’s inside of you that he wasn’t just hard from the lewd scene. He saw you and heard you say his name and it drove him wild.

A part of it felt wrong. The way you rolled your hips up to coax him deeper, looking up at him. Qian Kun, the appointed leader of your friend group. If anyone else from the group chat knew about this they would freak out. The foundation of the entire group would be shaken. How wrong it felt just made his cock being deep inside you feel that much better. 

He draws his hips back in a languid motion before easing them forward again. He inches inside you, the stretch stinging a little less. 

“You okay?” He asks breathlessly. You nod for the umpteenth time that evening. You go to close your eyes when you feel him lean over you. You snap your eyes back open again, pleased by seeing him this close again. You look deeply into his dark chocolate eyes. “Can you use your words?” He asks, a hint of a scold in his tone. You nearly nod again, stammering when you catch yourself.

“Y-yes, I’m okay.”

“Good.” He’s plunging deep inside you but he’s edging you at the same time. You want him to say it again. Why won’t he say it? You whimper, snapping your hips up to his. He tsks, reaching down to hold your hips steady. 

“Not very patient are you, baby?” His scolding is more blatant now. You pout and he pecks it. Once he lifts himself back up, his necklace is draped perfectly over your face. His thrusts gain a consistent rhythm, one that has his necklace bouncing over you. This excites you more than you expect it to, your hips twitching a few times through the jolts of pleasure. 

Maybe you’re still high off the heightened arousal you’ve built up in the last hour or so but the friction he’s providing has you practically drooling. He draws his hips back so far that he pulls out. He pushes back in and keeps that motion until a turbulent moan comes rolling from the depths of your soul. 

“Oh fuck, Kun!” Your legs start to tremble violently. Moans keep pouring from you before you get the chance to think. He keeps you wide and gaping, each time he draws back your hole clenches for him. His shameless moans from above you has your stomach twisted in knots. You clench your teeth, the sudden overwhelming pressure becoming too much.

“It feels so fucking good.” Your voice is reduced to a wispy shell of what it used to be. You lean forward to bury your head in his chest as the trembling in your legs quickens. “So fucking good.” The words woosh from you aggressively. His hips suddenly slam down and you sob against his chest. Your legs trap him in a shaky cage as your orgasm looms.

“Good girl.” He coos, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek. “Taking me so good.”

With that, your eyes roll back as your hips spasm. A guttural cry rips free from you as you grip like a vice around his cock. The tight grasp you have on him makes him whisper a shaky “Oh fuck…”. It’s impossible for him not to immediately fill the condom with you milking him like this. A sudden jerk has his hips drawing back and plunging very deep suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as the last of your orgasm ripples through you.

Along with a breath you didn’t know you were holding comes a groan that shreds your vocal chords. You’re reduced to whimpers after that, collapsing to the bed. Kun follows soon after, monitoring his weight so he’s not crushing you. He shushes you, cradling your head as he kisses your cheek. An airy laugh sounds from him.

“Very good girl.”

request

nct 127/u masterlist

[hollywoodroses]

Teacher’s Pet (A Duff McKagan FanFiction)

a/n: I originally wrote this fanfiction for another fandom which I posted and then deleted in 2020. I am the original writer of this storyline, this is my idea. This story has been re-written and edited. I am sharing this story earlier than expected because the text post about it was popular.

a/n #2: If you blink you’ll miss the appearance of axl.

warnings: smut, alcohol & drug use. Minors, do not interact please. Also there is no age!gap in this story. Everything will make sense when you read it until the end.

It was the first Monday after summer vacation. You were walking down the hallway to get to your classroom so you could greet your new students for the year at Vista Clara High School.

You had your hands full of folders with the new reading, projects and assignments material. Once you got to the room, you unlocked the door and put your bag and work on the desk. 

Ten minutes later and the bell rang, you walked to the door and opened it to say ‘hello’ to your students as they walked in. Once the last student walked in and took their seat you shut the door.

“Good morning class and welcome to AP English 12, this year we will be studying the work of…” A knock was heard at the door, cutting you off mid sentence and everyone stopped listening to look. 

You opened the door to see the principal and a young man with him. “Hello Y/N, I am sure you had a good summer. Please let me introduce you to Duff. He just moved here from New York. He shouldn’t be a problem for you as he was transferred from a college level prep school”. 

“Welcome Duff.” You said to him with a smile as principal McDonald left the room. 

Duff gazed at you as he walked past your desk and winked at you as he took the empty seat in the front row. 

You brushed it off as you started your lecture on The Great Gatsby.

During the long lecture, Duff would fool around with his classmates. This made you really upset but you didn’t want to say anything to cause a scene.

“Please write a report on the first five chapters of The Great Gatsby to be due in two weeks”. You explained to the class as the bell rang.

“See you on Saturday for the pool party, Duff”. Axl said as he was the last student to leave the room. 

When Axl left, Duff shut the door and looked at you with a smile. “Listen, I want to apologize for the way I acted in class today. I hope it wasn’t a bad first impression.”

Before you could respond with an answer, Duff cut you off. “Why don’t you come to my apartment on Friday night and I’ll cook you dinner to show you there are no hard feelings.” You knew it wasn’t right to meet your students outside of school but Duff seemed harmless. You were intrigued by him so you nodded in agreement. 

“See you then, Y/N.” Duff told you as he left you speechless. You sighed as the next group of students entered the room. It was going to be a long week.

**********

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready to meet Duff. You wore ripped jeans, t-shirt and a neon blue cardigan. You left home after an hour and drove twenty minutes to Duff’s apartment. 

When you got there, you parked your car and proceeded to walk up to his building. You looked up his name on the list and pressed three numbers to call him.

“Hello”. Duff answered after three rings.

“Duff, it’s Y/N from school. I am waiting downstairs”. You replied.

Duff unlocked the door and you opened it. You walked to the elevator to take you to the fourth floor where Duff lived.

When you finally exited the elevator, you noticed that the door to Duff’s unit was opened and he was waiting for you.

“Hello.” You said as you entered his apartment.

“Hey, you just made it and just in time too!” Duff explained as he walked over to give you a hug. 

After the hug, you took off your cardigan and gently put it on the couch that was near you. You sat at the dinner table as Duff poured you a glass of wine. 

While enjoying your meal together, Duff told you stories of being a small child in New York. He even mentioned how close he was to his little sister, whom he protected as they got older. 

Once dinner was finished, you helped Duff clean up and then moved to the couch to continue the conversation.

“So after university I settled in Los Angeles and started a job as a substitute teacher in an elementary school. My dream was always to teach in a high school. After gaining some experience, I applied at different school districts and finally got a call from Vista Clara. The rest is history.” You told Duff as you smiled.

“You are amazing, do you know that?”

You blushed and didn’t say anything. You were lost for words. 

“Listen, let me show you something. Do you trust me?” Duff asked.

You nodded, not knowing what you were getting yourself into.

Duff stood up for a few minutes and took out a plastic bag that was hidden in his bookshelf. 

The bag contained four small pink pills with the face of a devil. You started to get nervous as Duff sat beside you and took two pills out of the bag. He put both of them in his mouth and pulled you by your t-shirt. Duff kissed you softly and you felt him push one of the pills into your mouth with his tongue.

After a few moments, you suddenly felt a haze as you went under the high of the drug you took. As you were deep in the feeling of ecstasy you put your arms around Duff’s neck as the kiss deepened. You laid down as Duff got on top of you. You took a break from the kiss to take your shirt off as Duff unbuttoned his. Once your skin was bare, Duff kissed down your chest as he unhooked your bra. When he got to the button of your jeans you became wet as you thought of how far he would go. Suddenly, you felt Duff pulling your jeans off. When he finally got to your underwear, he licked them as they were covering your clit. You moaned as Duff replaced his mouth with his finger and you held your breath as you climaxed. 

Once the drug faded away, you both moved to Duff’s bedroom to cuddle until morning.

**********

On Monday morning, You entered the school with a bright feeling. You couldn’t believe that you spent the whole weekend with Duff.

While in your day dream, the bell rang for the first period. You quickly rushed to your classroom. Once you shut the door and organize your desk, you overheard your students whispering about something.

“Do you remember that weird guy Duff we met last week?” Britney said as another student nodded in agreement.

“Rumor has it that he is really 25 years old. He had a very sad childhood where his parents left him alone with the nanny and she seduced him for years. Now as an adult, he goes around different states pretending to be a high school kid. He does this to get close to his teacher and seduce them. I heard he seduces male teachers too. Then, before he can get caught, he runs off with a student.”

You couldn’t believe what your students were saying about Duff. You now noticed that not only was Duff missing from your class but also your top student Cheryl was absent too. 

You decided to brush off what your students were doing. “Attention students, please continue to work on your Great Gatsby report.” Once your class started working, you took a seat at your desk. As you got settled, you looked out the window and hoped Duff would be caught in his wild ways once and for all.

end

[short-black-diamond]

"Yo, she's a pro."

part two, parth three, part four, part five

This is another request a close friend of mine had. She wanted me to write something along the lines of a Reo x fem! reader, but we came to another conclusion:

Just--various bllk characters playing against you, their precious guest player, and then losing pathetically, rethinking their life choices for the time being.

your name: Yena Hideyo, and you have a blue snake called Melody <3

Warnings: Cursing, Rin begs on his knees, Nagi calls you beautiful, Kaiser gets shot, Ness gets kicked between his legs by you, some grammar errors probably, spoilers, some german sentences

Also I didn't proofread.

---

Ego announced to the bluelock players that you, Yena Hideyo, would be attending as a guest player and play against his strikers. You are famous for being the world's first female protégé in Japanese soccer, and since you were the best player in your team, you got asked to visit Blue Lock. And now, you were here, a bored expression on your face.

"She doesn't look like she's enjoying her stay here...", Bachira mumbled as he and Isagi looked at you. "I don't think I've actually ever seen her before...", the dark haired boy answered.

Barou only hmpf-ed and sneered at you. "You midget should be a protégé? I'd like to see you score at least one goal."

You frowned. Shidou waltzed towards you, a wide grin etched on his face. "I've seen you play. Would you like to play with, or against me?"

You looked at him with a blank but bored face, then you looked at the screen, where Ego showed who would be on which team. As Ego explained your stay, Isagi and Bachira looked at Shidou with question marks.

Oliver spoke as well. "Hah? Of course she'll play in my team."

Shidou had tick marks forming on his temple as he asked Oliver to repeat himself.

Ego ennounced that you were teamed up with Isagi, Kurona, Hiori, Barou, Gagamaru, Nanase, and Reo.

The other team had Chigiri, Shidou, Oliver, Aryu, Tokimitsu, Otoya, Karasu and Nagi.

Ego then cleared his throat. "All the other players, please sit down on the benches...Yena, plase let the others have a ball as well." "Don't wanna. That Barou guy's mouth's too big."

"Hah?!", the tall guy asked angrily and you glared at him.

With a shrill whistle, the game started. Well, you started it, actually. Before anybody could react ot the ball, you already dashed ahead, dribbling past Shidou, Otoya, and Nagi. Shidou grinned. "Not bad, little girl-", Otoya froze in place, and while Nagi tried for a nutmeg, you jumped and took the ball with you, even speeding up more. Then, Chigiri came.

"Hey girl, you think you-", but he couldn't keep up as you sped up again. He tried to go faster as well, but he couldn't. Then, there were Tokimitsu, Aryu and Oliver, the defenders, who tried to press, as in standing in your way. But, you just shot the ball and with an unpredictable gyro-shot, and the ball landed in the goal.

Isagi stood there in place. This game...took barely two minutes!? He stared at your approaching form. Ego frowned at you. "Didn't I tell you-"

"Listen, Ego Jinpachi. I'm not here to listen to you. I'm not a blue locker. Tell your little strikers or egoists or however you call them to try and put their heads in the game."

And before Ego could say something in return, the whistle blew again. This time, the opposing team changed their formation, and Barou approached you as well, screaming, "Like hell I'm gonna lose to a little girl!"

But also this time, you just slid past them all, completely using up all their strengths against them. As you were up against Tokimitsu who pressed against you, you grunted.

"S-sorry, b-b-ut I can't let you-"

"Outta - my- WAY!", you yelled as you pushed yourself against him harshly, making him stumble to the side.

Then, Aryu came. "You are totally glam, but-" "Gosh, would you guys stop talking already?!", you exclaimed, rounding him. Then, your last opponent was Oliver, who smirked at you.

"Never thought I'd end up with playing against a hot piece like you-", but he couldn't keep going as you just nutmegged him, and scored a goal as well. The goalkeeper couldn't see your physique behind Oliver, which is why you just had to shoot between his legs.

"The easiest goal I just made.", you stated. Oliver stared at his feet, then to the goal.

Ego seemed to loose his temper, as he glared at his players. "How can none of you guys take the ball from Hideyo!? C'mon you lumps, score a goal!"

With the whistle of the last game, everyone just ran towards you, and you were surprised by their lack of discipline. You swayed your leg before shredding the ball to the goal from where you stood. Since the defenders also were in the middle field, the ball flew wonderfully with no stopping. Also this time, you scored.

"This is so lame.", you said, walking out of the prototype-like stadion. After you stepped out, Barou roared. "WHY THE HELL IS THAT CHICK BETTER THAN ME?!"

Isagi tried to look at it from a more logical perspective, Niko and Hiori thinking about how effortlessly you moved and ran. Chigiri felt his ego deflating when he thought back on how you didn't even break a sweat as you just kept speeding up.

Karasu, Otoya and Oliver discussed on how hot you were looking, Tokimitsu held his shoulder you rammed yourself into while wincing in pain, while Aryu hypothesised how beautiful your pony looked, and overall how perfect your face was formed.

Bachira kept dribbling with the ball, but tried to do it how you did. Gagamaru sat by the goal, thinking back on how you effortlessly shot the last ball without even taking a halfstep, just swinging back your leg and shredding it to the goal.

Shidou laughed. "Damn, she's good!"

And just then, Ego's angry face turned up on the screen. "Why must you guys fail me? Weren't you down enough after playing against the top five?"

"Ego, how come Rin's not here?"

"Because he is playing against her right now. And now back to what-"

"Can we see?!", Isagi, Karasu, and some other guys yelled, wanting to know if Rin even managed to get the ball.

"No. That is your punishment on not even being able to take the ball from her."

"jeez, but she's a pro, what shoulda we've done?", Nanase asked as he fixed his heaband. Hiori stood next to him, still deep in thought.

"You could've at least tried to run like Chigiri did."

"Hey, what should we do when he's the fastest?!", Barou yelled, kicking the grass.

Ego didn't answer him. Instead, he showed them pictures of you. "Yena is not only a football protégé, she's also a model, sings some songs occasionally, has already published a few books, and her family is in a close alliance with Reo's parents.", and everyone looked at Reo, who still stared at the door you went out of.

He thought back to high school, where you introduced yourself with a bored expression- no, a resting bitch face, and he thought that you were just another mean girl. But boy was he wrong. You were actually the coolest girl he's ever met.

Too bad you had to leave again on your parents' wish. He should've asked you out when he had the chance.

Nagi had a rather sad look as he glanced at Reo who still stared at the door you retreated from. To Nagi, you also became something like a friend, and it hurt a little when you had to leave again.

But now, as you were here again, maybe they could hang out with you again!

...

"Stop fucking looking at me like that.", Rin panted, as he took another huge gulp from his third water bottle.

You sighed as you took out your first. "Why are you making me run around when you can't even take the ball from me?"

"That's none of your fucking business."

"Guess I'll leave then, bitch.", you retorted as you were about to take your bag. Rin quickly stood before you, something like desperation evident in his eyes. "What, you think that just because you're standing before me you can make me stay?"

"It's worth a try."

"It's also worth kicking your balls.", cue him taking a step back as he looked at you bewildered. But you just deadpanned at him.

"You think that because my stats are almost better than your older brother's that I'm going to be your personal training buddy?", you asked, finally drinking from your bottle.

Rin flinched. 'How did you-'

"C'mon, you think I'm that stupid? And no, I'm not going to be your personal training buddy."

"...would you train with me if I asked you nicely?"

"Demonstrate."

"Please train with me."

"Sounds like a demand. No."

"Then how do you want me to fucking say it...?!"

"First off, watch your fucking language around me. Second, beg on your knees of you want me to train with you, loser.", you said, watching as he glared at you.

But, your breath hitched when he actually slowly got down on his knees. "Please...p-please train with me, Yena...!", he growled.

You patted his head. "See? Wasn't that hard. Next time you want me to train with you, I want to hear a little more desperation, alright? But for today, it's enough."

He quickly stood up and went towards the ball he abandoned earlier. "Let's train."

You and Rin had been friends before Sae left, and well, you three just...grew apart. Your father took you to Europe for a better job, ultimately destroying your friendship with Reo, Nagi, Rin and Sae.

But hey, at least you were here as a protégé. And, as much as you hate the way Rin became now, you felt pity and you were also happy to play football with him again.

If only you could make him smile at least one last time before leaving again...

...

"Whoah, you have a snake?! And it's blue!", Bachira asked excitedly as he watched a blue snake sling itself around you. You smiled softly at the boy.

"Her name's Melody. Isn't she cute? If you want to, you can pet her.", cue him reaching a hand out and stroking the snake. "Say, Yena, how come you're so good at football? Did you train all your life? Didn't you come from Europe? What's it like there? Were you in Spain?"

You chuckled softly. "Jeez, don't ask so many questions, boy. No, I was not in spain. I was in Austria the whole time. My dad had work there, which is why we had to go from Japan to Austria. It actually...feels nice being here again.", and you looked at Melody fondly.

Bachira hummed in agreement. "But would you like to go to Spain sometime?"

"Is it because of Lavinho?" "How did you know?!"

You gave him a look to which the boy with bangs giggled shyly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, I'd also ask about somebody who has similar abilities as me on the field. But please keep in mind that I never met him. And Ego wants you guys to seriously choose the clubs? You'd take spain, right?"

"Yup! Hey, maybe you could join us!", The boy exclaimed excitedly as Melody engulfed him in a warm hug.

You leaned back in your seat. "Can't. Ego said I should just go to Noel Noa's bastard München. I actually wanted to go to Lavinho, or Snuffy, but oh well."

"Hm, bummer. I actually wanted you to teach me how to dribble how you did!"

You cooed internally in your head upon Bachira's excited face and his sweet request. "Maybe when we play against each other?"

"Ooohhh, yes, that would be nice!!"

"Hey, Bachira? Are you here- Whoah!", Isagi yelled as he stumbled upon you and Bachira sitting in a room with Melody on Bachira. "Y-you have a snake on you, Bachira."

"I know. You wanna pet- Ah, can Isagi pet her?", and Bachira turned to you with his sweet big and round eyes. You nodded.

"Ah, no thanks..Say, how old are you actually, Yena?", Isagi asked and sat down next to you and Meguru.

"I'm eightteen."

"But you're so short!"

"And you suck at football!"

There was a short silence of you and Isagi looking at each other. "Don't look at your elders like that. You started it, by the way.", you grumbled, and Isagi apologized, his good manners getting the best out of him.

"Wait, how do you know that I'm younger than you?"

"I got a file from Ego about every single player in this facility. Thanks to my great memory, I know your basic information. Also, which club will you choose, Isagi? Also Bastard München?"

"Yeah, I wanted to play with and against Noel Noa ever since I can remember."

"Neat. Then I guess we'll be teammates again. But maybe I'll let you have the ball a few times.", and Isagi nodded. Bachira pouted.

"Does that mean I won't get to cuddle Melody anymore?"

"I could ask Ego for permission us to meet, but with the way I heard him yelling at you guys through the hallways when training with Rin... ...uh, I don't know if that'll be possible."

The three of you looked deep in thought. You thought about what could make Rin laugh, Bachira thought about Melody's cool blue skin, and Isagi thought about how Rin and you might've been playing. "Say, Yena, how was it with Rin?"

"He's an idiot. En eccentric and stubborn boy at heart.", you declared, which made Isagi and Bachira chuckle. And just then, Reo and Nagi stepped in.

Reo felt like crying. "Yena...!", he whimpered before he threw himself at you, to which you yelled in fear, and he crashed into you. "How could you leave us?! Me and Nagi didn't have another training partner in so loooonnnggg!"

"Get off me, you crybaby!", you grunted as you tried to push him from you, but the purple haired rich guy didn't budge. If anything, he pulled you closer. Nagi did a T-pose and let gravity take him to you two to the ground.

"Fuck off, Nagi!", you yelled. After a few more seconds of you struggling against their grip, you gave up. "You guys being heavier and stronger than me is not fair. Now get up so I can breathe!"

And solemnly, Reo and Nagi latched off of you. "Which team will you guys be in?", you asked after Reo calmed down. Nagi answered this time. "We are going to Italy."

You nodded. "I can kind of see that. And in all honesty...*sigh*...I...missed you guys too."

This time, it was Nagi who lunged himself at you, and Reo began crying again. Bachira and Isagi laughed at you who got suffocated by Nagi.

"So this is your snake, Melody, right?", Reo asked as he reached out his hand. Melody slithered from Bachira to Isagi, who finally petted her.

Nagi sat up and looked at the snake. "She kind of impersonates you, Yena."

You raised an eyebrow. "Sneaky, dangerous and fast?"

"No, beautiful."

Reo glared at Nagi. Nagi looked at the snake with rosy cheeks, Bachira made an 'ooooohhhh~' sound, and Isagi looked at Nagi surprised.

"...Ew.", was all you said, making Nagi frown at you. "It...was a compliment?"

"And I didn't like it."

...

"Verpiss dich, du Arschkriecher!", you yelled angrily as Ness tried taking the ball from you. You and Isagi teamed up to score a goal, and it was going rather smoothly if not for the fact that you always had to wait or run back because he was too slow.

"Lass mich doch einfach den Ball nehmen-"

"Damit du ihn an Kaiser spielen kannst?! Schieß mal ein eigenes Tor!"

Now, Ness was hot on your heel, but you wanted Isagi to score the second goal. And just then, Kunigami came into your vision, seemingly wanting the ball as well. then you developed a plan. You kept dribbling until Kunigami came, and as Ness lunged forward, you swerved to the side with the ball in the last moment, making Ness and Kunigami crash into each other.

"Now!", you yelled as you shot the ball. Unfortunately, Kaiser was thinking that you'd shoot the ball towards Isagi's feet, but you actually wanted Isagi to score a head-goal. Welp, and Kaiser also jumped a little higher than Isagi, that's why...the ball clashed against his face. Kaiser has fallen unconscious. Ness panicked while you laughed your ass off by looking at Kaiser who was laying with his face down and ass in the air.

Isagi chuckled. "Next time, score a damn goal, Isagi."

"Y-yeah. But...what did you say to Ness? I don't like how they took out earpieces before we could play against the other team."

You huffed with an amused grin. "I called Ness an asscrawler, and told him to score a goal himself for once."

And only after the failed goal did drones come with earpieces. As Isagi put his on, with you studying what stood in the box which contained the ear pods, Noel Noa came, looking at you angrily. "Why are you laughing, Yena? That's not funny. You might've seriously hurt him."

"Kaiser shouldn't think that the balls we shoot would always be promised to him. Also, I'd like to see Ness playing without Kaiser. I want to see Ness scoring a goal for a change."

Noa sighed and let you "converse" with Ness, who was yelling at you angrily. "What the hell is your problem?! Why did you shoot him in the-", but he didn't continue as he was busy holding his groin where you kicked him. Isagi was subtly holding a hand in front of his dick.

"Listen here, lapdog. If you yell at me again, I'll cut off your kneecaps and rip out your throat. Aren't you tired of being Kaiser's shadow?...Let's make a deal. If you don't make a goal yourself in this next round yourself or with us passing the ball to you, I'll keep injuring your boyfriend."

Ness 'tch'ed, still in pain from how hard you kicked him. "He's not my boyfriend. And you could loose your career!"

"How? I shot the ball to Isagi, but Kaiser stood in the way. It was an accident. But if you don't score a goal in the next ten minutes, I'll make intentional accidents. Got it?"

Ness looked at you with fear in his eyes. "Y-yes."

---

Heyy, thanks for reading this! Please like, comment, and reblog if you want to!

Read you in the next post!

Also requests are still open for those who are wondering...

[doudouneverte]

Big Sister

a/n: okay I know I saud the last fic should be the last fic about football until the world cup but I couldn't erase this thought (Dominique Janssen is really underrated)

*not my GIF*

Pairing: platonic!Dominique Janssen x younger!Reader; VfL Wolfsburg (frauen) x NEDWNT!Reader

Summary: You just love to mess up with Dom and she decide to take her revenge.

Type: Fluff

Warning: me who don't take my promise, and use of google traduction for Dutch

wprd count: 1473

---------

Water balloon incident

You knew you shouldn't do that, but you were bored, and it could be fun.

Wolfsburg's training facility was quiet—too quiet for a lot of people. Some girls were working out when a pair of footsteps were heard running to the gym. Lena and Jule entered the room but were visibly disappointed.

"Lynn, where is Dom?" Lena asked.

"She left with Poppi and Sophie a few minutes earlier; I think they are in the locker room." The Dutch replied, and the girls nodded before leaving for the said place. Once there, they quickly entered and almost scared the older women.

"Dom, we finally found you," the blonde German said, and the concerned woman furrowed her eyebrows. "Y/n fainted on the pitch while we trained," she explained, and the three women quickly became worried. The five girls quickly ran to where you were supposed to be but found nothing.

"Girls, where is--" Dom didn't finish her sentence before she was hit by water balloons. The young girls laughed, and Svendis came to them with her phone, recording the Dutch's expression.

"Got you!" You laughed. The defender looked at you; she was angry; she saw red despite your green training kit. She chased you on the pitch; you found a way to run on the building, and the older Dutch was about to follow you before she was stopped by Jule, who gave her two water balloons. She took them and followed you.

You were running for your life—well,  not literally, because you knew Dom would never hurt you, but she was still scary. You saw Jill, and you started to slow down before you heard the older Dutch yell, "Jill, laat haar niet gaan (Jill, don't let her go)." You tried to escape, but you slipped and fell to the ground. "Y/n!" Dom ran to you, very concerned.

She kneeled beside you and helped you sit. "I'm fine," you said, but the older woman didn't stop to examine you to be sure you didn't lie. "I'm okay, Dom, I promise," you repeated, and she seemed satisfied after she finished.

"Okay, get up. I need to change my clothes, and after that, we will go out with the girls." She stood up and started to leave, but she made a mistake. She let the water balloons land on the floor next to you. You're still coming with—" She didn't finish before she got soaked again. "Y/n!" she yelled, but you had already run away.

In the room next to where you were, the rest of the team was chilling until they heard a loud noise when you fell, and a few seconds later, they heard Dom yell your name. "How do you handle her during national camp?" Merle asked Lynn.

Honestly, I don't know, but I think it's better to let her run out; otherwise, she doesn't sleep properly the night, and she can't play for the match." she replied.

"Do you talk about Y/n?" Jill asked when she entered the room, and the goalkeeper nodded. "I think we should be thankful that Dann isn't here too. When they're together, it's almost impossible to chill." The midfielder explained, and the defender chuckled.

"It would be chaos," she said.

-----------

Hide and seek in the city

It was a bad idea, but you couldn't help yourself, and Lena and Jule said it could be fun. You were with some teammates in the streets of Wolfsburg; you were watching around to see if there was somewhere to hide. When the girls decided to visit a new shop not so far from where you were, it was the right moment. Once inside, you faked your interest until the older women were too distracted. You grabbed Lena, Jule, and Sveindis outside, and the four of you started to walk fast without making too much noise.

Hey, look Y/n, they have what you were talking about." Jill said, but when you didn't reply, Dominique started to worry. They all looked behind them, but they didn't see you.

"Where are they?" Alexandra asked.

"I swear if it's another prank by Y/n I'll kill her." The Dutch defender said, and when Svenja was about to say something, she cut her off. "I know we need her for the final against Freiburg, but that doesn't change anything," she said before leaving the shop, determined to find you. She didn't have to walk too much before her phone buzzed. She looked at it and saw a message from you in the club group chat.

Dom sighed, and with the girls, they agreed to find you. After a few minutes, they found the three other girls, but now the defender started to worry more; you were not with them, and they didn't know where you could have been. They tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. They were about to go crazy until they found you with a little boy and his mother. You waved goodbye to them before you remarked on your teammates.

You: Let's play hide and seek

Dom: Y/n I swear, if you do anything stupid, I'll be sure you'll be benched for the rest of the season

You: Oh come on, Domi, you're not fun

Poppi: Okay, girls, it's not funny. Where are you?

Lena: It's not really a game of hide and seek if we tell you where we are hiding

Sveindis: She's right

Jule: Yeah

"Where were you?" Domi asked.

"I found this little boy; he seemed lost. He explained to me that he moved in recently with his parents and lost his mom, so I helped him." you replied. The defender pulled you into a hug, clearly reassured to know you were alright.

"Don't ever do that again." She said it sternly, and you nodded. "Okay, now let's go back home."

You were walking behind the group with the defender next to you when you started to say, "You know, this boy reminded me of when I came here for the first time. I remember I lost myself, and you were worried to death, but you found me."

"Yeah, and I'll never stop worrying," she said.

"Even when I'll be 30?" You asked.

"If you still like Dann, absolutely." she joked. When you were walking, you started to talk with the girl in front of you, and Dom was remembering this day.

You just signed to Wolfsburg after a good season at Twente; you were young but a promising striker, which is why you finished there. When you made your first step in the training area, the defender took you under her wing, and she quickly became your big sister in the team. Things didn't change when you were called for your first senior national camp.

-----------

Water bottles

It was the Dfb-Pokal final against Wolfsburg. You quickly took the advantage in the game, and twenty minutes before the end, the coach subbed you on. Only seven minutes after you gave an assist, and only three minutes later, you scored. Like almost everyone except you, you won this final. It was the third time in a row you won this title, but the feeling is still like the first time.

You celebrate with the girls before being required to do a little post-match interview. While you were talking, your 'big sister' watched you from afar until she spotted some water bottles on the bench. She smirked to herself before she grabbed them and came to you.

"–and I thought I could add something so I–" you cut yourself when you felt two water bottles emptied on your head. You were expecting to face Obi or Jule when you turned around, so you were shocked to find the Dutch laughing, visibly proud of her work. You couldn't really be mad at her, but you were still soaked. You excused yourself with the interviewer and playfully chased the defender.

You quickly gave up when Sveindis stopped you to take a photo with you. You accepted and found yourself taking pictures for a few minutes with almost all your teammates, but not with the most important one yet. So you took the trophy to find her; she was thrilled to see you appear next to her while she was talking with Ewa.

She didn't have time to say anything before you dragged her along. "Let's take a picture together," you said. You took at least five pitcures with her and more with the two of you and some teammates who invited themselves in.

Later that day you posted the photos from the match: one post for the match; one post with a lot of pictures of celebration with all your teammates; and a last post with only a photo with you and Dominique with a unique legend: "Mijn grote zus👯🇳🇱 (My big sister).

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | march 19 thumb | words: 1048

guess what? i’m on a train after a gig (i saw niall fucking horan!!!) again, although i’m not hangover this time so there may not be so many mistakes 🤠 anyways it’s a little longer again and there’s drarry in this one woohoo; enjoy

tw: hospital, accidents, lost person

Regulus was pacing around the living room, biting his thumbnail. James left to look for their son almost three hours ago. He had already called Lily and Pandora to make sure she wasn't at their place; he called Remus and Sirius to ask if he had gone to visit their daughter. He even called Barty and Evan to see if Harry had come to their studio for another piercing without asking his parents. None of them had seen him that day, but they promised that they would let him know if they saw his son.

Harry never caused any problems or ignored calls from either of his parents, so all four of them were going ballistic since he didn’t come home after his curfew.

Three hours, thirty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds into James’ searching, Regulus’ phone rang. He practically lunged at it to see Draco’s number on the screen.

“Draco?” he asked, a little panicked. Why was his son’s boyfriend calling him?

“Um, hi uncle,” he said carefully. “So, a funny thing happened.” His cousin's son laughed nervously.

“Draco, get to the point." Regulus tried not to shout at the boy, but he couldn't; he was too scared. “Harry went missing, and I’m sorry, but I don’t really have time for your funny stories.”

“Yeah, about that.” He could almost hear Draco clutching his neck in a nervous gesture. “Harry may or may not have had an accident.” Regulus felt all the blood draining from his face. His son had an accident. What the fuck?

“What do you mean an accident?” he asked, his voice strangely calm.

Draco cleared his throat. “Well, we went to that skatepark near the forest, and he tried to do this new trick he saw somewhere, but landed badly and hit his head—nothing serious really considering all the previous injuries.” The boy laughed nervously. “Anyway, I checked if he was alright, and he said that he’s fine, so we went to get something to eat, and then he started acting weird, and when we went out, he puked and started sweating and kinda fainting, and I got scared and called an ambulance, and...”

“So basically, he has a concussion?" Regulus concluded, gritting his teeth a little. Harry might be smart, but James passed all his recklessness on to him. “In which hospital are you?” he sighed, already grabbing all the necessary stuff and texting James to come back.

Draco gave him the information, and with Regulus’ final ‘okay, see you there’ he hung up.

James arrived five minutes later, and his husband didn’t even give him time to turn off the car.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Regulus announced, entering the address into the navigation. James looked at him with big, scared eyes.

“What happened? Is he alright? Oh no, is he d-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. He had a concussion; Draco’s with him. Now, let’s go.”

They drove as fast as the traffic let them, with Regulus still explaining the situation to his husband. James’ hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Trying to calm him even the tiniest bit, Regulus started running his fingers through the other’s hair.

When they finally arrived, they rushed into the hospital, breathlessly babbling Harry's name to the woman at the reception desk. Getting to the room she said he was in took them less than three minutes, and the first thing they saw was Draco pacing in front of the door.

As he noticed them, he strutted in their direction, already talking fast about how it’s not Harry’s fault and pleading with them not to be mad at them.

“Draco!” James cut in. “We’re not mad; we were just worried.”

“Well, I am a little mad,” Regulus said when the boy looked at him. “Why didn’t you call earlier? We, his moms and uncles, have been looking for him for the last four hours!"

Draco looked at him with wet eyes. “I was just so worried and scared,” he mumbled as a lonely tear rolled down his cheek. At the sight, Regulus pulled the kid into his arms, whispering his apologies and explaining that they were all worried and scared, too.

James must’ve noticed the doctor, because Regulus heard him asking what exactly happened and how their son was doing.

“He’s awake and as well as he could now, but he needs to spend the night, just in case,” the doctor replied, letting all three in.

When they saw Harry smiling a lazy smile, all the bad emotions went away. They rushed to his bed, both his dads close to crying, asking how he was doing.

“I’m alright; my head hurts a little, but it’s fine. The doctor said it should go away in a few days,” Harry answered, sounding a little tired. Then he turned to Draco. “Thank you, Cariño,” his boyfriend just smiled wobbly in response.

“I should get going,” he said, sounding apologetic. “Mom is waiting outside, pissed as Hulk.” All three Potters laughed at Draco, who stepped closer to Harry, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll try to come back tomorrow. Bye, mon chéri.”

As he walked out, Regulus and James started fussing around their son again. When he told them he was feeling sleepy, they turned the lights off and started gathering the necessary things to go talk with the hospital staff. Harry turned to them.

“Can you sleep with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone,” the boy said, sounding as if he were five and had a nightmare again. James and Regulus looked at each other, having a silent conversation about how they could go talk to someone later and call in sick at work in the morning.

“Of course, niño,” James replied, taking off his shoes and lying down on Harry's right. Regulus joined them soon after, lying down on his son's other side, cuddling him, and softly singing the song Harry always liked to sleep to as a child.

As the boy fell asleep, his fathers looked at each other, kissing their son's head and then each other.

It had been the most stressful moment of their lives since Harry was born, but now, in the quiet hospital room, lying together, they felt at peace.

i forgot to write if moms and uncles learned the truth about harry’s disappearance so just assume they had

[drjohndisco]

Title: First Encounters

Pairing: n/a

Word Count: 600+

Summary: Wesley and Yarrow meet for the first time, and Yarrow isn't impressed.

Warnings: mentions of blood/potential feeding on a human, minor spoilers for season three of buffy the vampire slayer.

( Ao3 Link )

[ Sunnydale School Library ]

With a quiet sigh, Yarrow took hold of the box. They’d been in the library longer than usual, and the bloodlust (and the fidgety-ness that came with it) was beginning to rise.

(In fact, Yarrow was almost 100% sure that Giles had offloaded Wesley onto them so he wouldn’t have to pay proper attention to his prattling any more - especially since he’d absconded to his office five minutes ago.)

‘You’re cold, are you sure that you’re okay?’ Wesley asked.

Shocked that he’d noticed Yarrow let go of the box -- dropping it directly onto Wesley’s foot. He cried out, and stepped backwards towards the railing behind him. Then, within seconds, Yarrow had caught him by the tie, halting him in his tracks.

(After all, they didn’t want to injure a third watcher (no matter how much he was getting under their skin.) Giles would kill them if that happened.)

But, now that they were closer to him than before, Yarrow was able to sense just how loud (and fast) his heart was beating.

Surely it wouldn’t matter if…?

‘Uh, Yarrow?’ Wesley said awkwardly, breaking their thought process. ‘I think you can let me go now. You’re going to choke me if you’re not careful.’

So, Yarrow let Wesley go -- dropping him unceremoniously onto the hard wooden floor.

‘Oh!’ Wesley groaned. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ Yarrow replied curtly and (before Wesley could notice they’d gone) Yarrow had disappeared into the shadows.

[ Giles’ Office ]

‘Yarrow?’ Giles asked, concerned. He’d stopped in the doorway, and was watching them thoughtfully. ‘What happened? Are you all right?’

Yarrow shut the door to his fridge, taking a mug of blood (and a pink curly straw) out of it, before turning around to face him.

‘I dropped a box on his foot and then, unfortunately, had to catch him.’ Yarrow replied, nonchalantly.

‘I do hope you didn’t damage any of the books.’ Giles replied.

‘Of course that’s what you got from that sentence, Dad.’ Yarrow laughed, leaning backwards against the wall. ‘Also, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. He’s very punchable.’

‘I will neither confirm ‘nor deny that statement.’ Giles said, then paused. ‘Do you think you’ll be comfortable enough to join us again after you’re done here?’

‘I will be.’ Yarrow stated, taking the straw into their mouth.

‘Good.’ Giles said, leaning down and quickly pressing a kiss to Yarrow’s head before straightening back up. ‘Then, I’ll see you again in a bit.’

[ Yarrow’s House - Evening ]

‘What…?’ Yarrow said, opening their door to see Wesley standing there. He’d been the last person they’d expected to see, especially this late at night.

(Thank goodness they were still wearing their outfit (a blue shirt and brown pants) from earlier, and hadn't opted for their sleep clothing - which was decidedly less professional.)

‘Uh, I need a place to stay.’ He replied awkwardly. ‘Giles told me you had a spare room.’

(Ah. Offloaded once again.)

‘I do.’ Yarrow said, knowing they couldn’t (unfortunately) leave him outside in the cold. ‘Please, come in.’

‘Thank you.’ He said, as he stepped past Yarrow into the house. Yarrow watched as he carefully attempted to balance his luggage (a bag and two suitcases) between his arms.

‘Is it okay if I leave my stuff downstairs?’

‘Sure.’ Yarrow replied, knowing that disaster would strike (again) if he didn’t. ‘We can deal with them tomorrow.’

‘Great.’ Wesley mumbled, leaning the suitcases against the wall and shuffling the bag over to his other arm. ‘Now, where am I headed?’

‘Your room’s upstairs, on the left.’ Yarrow explained. ‘You’ve also got a bathroom attached, but I’d advise you to be careful with the taps, as they’re a bit rusty. Cupboard hinges and curtain rails should function perfectly fine, and there’s a linen cupboard in the hall - for sheets and other stuff, since the bed probably isn’t made.’

‘Okay.’ He replied, as he began to slowly trudge his way up the stairs.

‘Oh, and Wesley?’ Yarrow called out, after shutting the door behind themselves. ‘I’m very sorry that we got off on the wrong foot this morning, so to speak.’

This statement was met only with a loud groan, which made Yarrow grin.

(Maybe this unexpected ‘arrangement’ of theirs could turn out to be fun after all.)

[nattikay]

Katxí, Navi learner here^^

I'm trying to learn Na'vi but I'm having a really hard time figuring out the grammar of the language do you think you could explain it a bit?

Kaltxì! Sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this, I knew it would take a long time to type up which was a tad intimidating ^^;

So uhhh needless to say I can't really teach you the entirety of the grammar in one post like this, but I can go over a few basic things to help get you started. :)

A common place to begin are the closely-related concepts of free word order, case endings, and transitivity!

───

Sooooo in English, word order is very important. "cat eats fish" and "fish eats cat" mean completely different things, and "eats fish cat" hardly makes sense at all. Na'vi, however, features limited free word order--words can go (almost) anywhere in a sentence without changing the meaning.

But if words can go anywhere in a sentence, how do you make sense of it? How do you know whether the fish or the cat is doing the eating? That's where case endings come in!

Case endings are suffixes that mark a noun's role in a sentence. Na'vi has five case endings, but we'll start with two: -l and -t.

Simple sentences like "cat eats fish" can be broken down into three parts:

1.) the verb, or the action of the sentence 2.) the subject, which is doing the action 3.) the direct object, which is having the action done to it

In Na'vi, the subject is marked the the L ending (-l for nouns that end in vowels, -ìl for consonants), and the direct object is marked with the T ending (-t for vowels, -it for consonants, or optionally -ti for any noun).

So let's return to our sentence and say that the cat (palulukantsyìp) is the one eating (yom) the fish (payoang).

What is the action of the sentence? Eat! What is doing the eating? Cat! Palulukantsyìp takes the -l ending. What is being eaten? Fish! Payoang takes the -t ending.

So, palulukantsyìpìl payoangit yom the cat eats the fish

or... palulukantsyìpìl yom payoangit payoangit palulukantsyìpìl yom payoangit yom palulukantsyìpìl yom palulukantsyìp payoangit yom payoangit palulukantsyìpìl

All six of these orders are 100% valid and mean exactly the same thing!

If we want to switch the meaning so the fish is doing the eating, instead of using a particular order, we just switch the case endings:

palulukantsyìpit payoangìl yom the fish eats the cat

Pretty straightforward! Let's throw in a third case ending: the R ending (-r or -ru for vowels, -ur for consonants), which marks the indirect object.

Consider the sentence I give you a gift.

What is the action? Give! What is doing the giving? I! oe takes the -l ending What is being given? Gift! stxeli takes the -t ending

So far so good...but wait, we are forgetting a noun! If "I" is the subject and "gift" is the direct object, then what is "you"? As you've probably guessed, it's the indirect object! It can often be translated as "to [noun]".

Oel ngaru stxelit tìng I give you a gift (I give a gift to you)

Now that we're familiar with -l, -t, and -r, let's shake it up a bit:

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A common mistake I see with beginners is to always use the -l ending on the subject of a sentence. However, some sentences don't need it. The -l (and, with it, the -t) only show up with subject/direct object pairs.

That said, not all verbs can take direct objects. The ability for a verb to take a direct object is called transitivity. A transitive verb can take a direct object. An intransitive verb cannot.

In many cases the transitivity of a verb is fairly intuitive. For example, eat, like we used before, is transitive--you can "eat something". However, you cannot "sleep something". "I eat an apple" makes sense. "I sleep an apple" does not. Therefore, sleep is intransitive--it cannot take a direct object.

Because there is no direct object to distinguish from the subject, the subject of an intransitive verb does not need to be marked.

oel hahaw → oe hahaw I sleep

*quick note that transitive verbs are allowed to take a direct object, but are not required to--when there is no direct object, the -l ending is not used, even if the verb is listed as transitive in the dictionary. So, "I eat an apple" would be oel äpllti yom, but "I eat" by itself would simply be oe yom, without the -l.]

However, some verbs that look like they should be transitive are actually intransitive (the only way to know for sure is to check a dictionary). A particularly infamous example is the verb nume ("to learn")--I'm pretty sure just about every learner (including myself!) has made the mistake of trying to say oel nume lì'fyat leNa'vi ("I learn the Na'vi language") at some point or other!

There are a handful of ways to work around verbs that look like they should be transitive but aren't. Which one to use depends on the sentence. We'll cover two of them here:

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The first is to use the R ending. Often, the word that appears to be the direct object of an intransitive verb is actually the indirect object, and therefore receives the -R ending.

Consider the sentence Mother cleans the house.

House (kelku) appears to be the direct object here. It is the thing being cleaned, right? However, the verb for "clean", laro si, is intransitive, so it cannot take a direct object. Remember when I said that indirect objects can often be translated as "to [noun]"? This is where that can come in handy:

Sa'nok kelkur laro si Mother cleans the house ("Mother does a clean to the house") (*note that the subject, sa'nok, is unmarked--remember that -l and -t only show up with subject/direct object pairs, which can only occur with transitive verbs)

───

The second workaround requires introducing another case ending: the topical (-ri for vowels, -ìri for consonants). This case ending is considered a bit more "advanced" since English doesn't really have a solid equivalent, so don't worry if it's a little confusing right now, but if you've studied certain other languages such as Japanese before you may be familiar with the idea.

The topical case ending introduces a noun as the "topic" of a sentence, which the rest of the sentence proceeds to make a comment about. It is often translated as "concerning [noun]..." or "as for [noun]..." or "regarding [noun]..."

Li'fyari lu sìltsan fwa tskxekeng si pxìm! It's good to practice language often! ("Concerning language, it's good to practice often!")

Using this ending is the correct way to say every new learner's favorite sentence mentioned earlier:

Lì'fyari leNa'vi oe nume! I'm learning Na'vi! ("Regarding the Na'vi language, I learn!")

*quick note--remember how at the very beginning of the post I said that Na'vi has limited free word order? Well, here's one of the limits: when using the topical, it is always expected to come at the beginning of a sentence/clause (in the forest dialect, at least--putting the topical at the end of a sentence is considered acceptable in the reef dialect but don't worry about that right now lol)

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Well, that covers four of the five case endings in Na'vi. Might as well mention the last one: the possessive (I believe the fancy linguist term is genitive), which is -yä for words that end in vowels (except u and o because reasons), and -ä for everything else.

As you've probably guessed, this case ending describes possession. It can be translated as [thing] of [owner] and/or [owner]'s [thing]. The ending attaches to the owner.

Meysiyä syuve "Meysi's food" or "food of Meysi" (because of free word order, syuve Meysiyä also works! However, while it doesn't matter which side you put the owner on, you will want to make sure the two nouns are next to each other in the sentence. This is another example of the free word order being limited.)

Sa'nokä tìyawn "[a] mother's love" or "[the] love of [a] mother"

Pukä hapxì "part of [a] book"

Oeyä tsmukan "my brother" or "brother of mine"

───

aaaaaand that's all of the case endings! Originally I thought about going into a bit about infixes/verb conjugation too since that's also a pretty fundamental part of the grammar but this post it getting crazy long as-is; another time perhaps.

Hopefully that gives you an ok jumping-off point; if you need anything clarified or want to know about a different particular bit of grammar, feel free to ask!

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 32 - Munchies

Gale is hungry and not for food. So is Astarion, and that innuendo IS intended.

On AO3.

So, y’all nearly lose Lae’zel. Mostly because outta the three options y’all got, “searching for the hidden location of a bunch of lizard murder hobos” sounded like the longest, most involved, and most dangerous one.

Lae’zel takes it about as well as can be expected. She cuts one of her training dummies into pieces with a single-minded viciousness that makes you wonder who’s face she’s projecting onto it.

She does end up staying, though.

Then there’s the western route. Y’all murdered druids so Halsin could have a smooth transition back into power if 1. Y’all even find him, 2. He ain’t dead, and 3. Y’all ain’t dead. Three steps makes this one slightly less of a pain but still not ideal.

So then there’s old Auntie Ethel.

You show Gale the map she gave you, with her house marked on it—damn thing is enchanted and he eyeballs it real weird. There’s only her house and a mark he says is some kinda wayfinder rune stone thingamabob.

To which Wyll chimes in about the rampaging demon woman you kinda roped all y’all into dealing with.

To which Gale puffs up, lifts his hands, and opens a fucking portal.

“Jesus fuck,” you say. “How the fuck long have you been sitting on that?”

“Will it trap us in a stone?” Astarion says, having decided to grace y’all with his presence, though he seems kinda put out by it.

Not long, Gale explains. And also no, on the stone thing.

Gale took a hit after waking up in a portal after the butthole ship went down. Shadowheart and the others chime in with the same. Spells weaker. Some unsteady (Gale says with a pointed look at Astarion, who dodges it) or unusable. Only Astarion seems to have netted positives (which sends him preening for about five minutes).

But their strength is returning, gradually. Gale had felt his magic capacity (“connection with the Weave, Eleanor” so now you’re calling it his mojo) increasing every day. So now he can cast this. Apparently, it connects to that rune stone thing on the map by Auntie’s house. As best you understand it (in between zoning out) it’s kinda a train station (or subway, since it “tunnels between the fabrics of the realms”). Y’all’ve seen weird marks carved into big rocks; those are the waypoints.

You call them teleporters, cause that’s what they seem like to you and you couldn’t follow his detailed explanation all the way through. It ain’t like you can use magic anyway.

As none of y’all want to spend the night at some stranger’s house in god-knows-where, y’all break for the night to settle in.

But Gale catches you before you get far. Up close, you can see sweat on his brow. He’s trying hard to hold himself straight, project calm and coolness as usual. But there’s a strain around his eyes that you ain’t seen before.

“May I have a word?” he says.

Only Astarion lingers, idly swirling a cup of wine near the fire. He looks up as you glance his way, but then you look to Gale again.

“Sure,” you say.

He leads you off a bit, out of earshot of most of camp. Stops at the tree you and Wyll had chatted under.

There, he tries to slap on a smile. But there’s tension around his eyes, and even the smile seems to twitch with effort.

“We’ve been on the road together for some time now, haven’t we?” he says. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles. Ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and generosity.”

This is a speech, you realize. Man’s practiced this. He’s usually expressive when he talks; waves his hands a bit and his face is animated. Here, he’s still and forced-pleasant. You watch him sharper as he goes on; having delivered the opening sentence, he backs that up with exaggerated examples you ain’t sure even he believes.

“In short, I’ve grown to trust you,” he says. And there’s the thesis.

“Okay?” you say.

He waits a pause. Probably expected something more, and when you don’t elaborate, he sort of stumbles into the next part. Uses more words than he needs to (he must be one of those people who get a “five page essay” assignment and turn that sucker into fifteen pages, single-spaced) to get to the next part. “You see, I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.”

You frown. “What kinda condition?”

Much better than leading with “is it contagious”, which you want to do.

“The specifics are rather personal. Suffice to say, it’s a malady I’ve learned to live with. Though not without some effort.”

Like slamming down both a dirt and a blood potion in the morning. The man makes these for you. He was one of the first of them (Shadowheart being the actual first) who tried to help you. And he cooks for y’all. You owe the man your time and attention.

And then he says he needs a magic item. Which, okay? There’s gotta be plenty of those around Faerun, right?

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t vital—dare I say it, critical,” he says. “I may have, ah, pushed it aside for too long, now. The need has become severe.”

You nod, but then catch his glance. You got your arms folded, and your glowing ring lights his face in soft blue in the shade of twilight. Your first, real jewelry. Your enchanted jewelry.

“I know the allure magical items possess. I understand their value, and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you, and I promise, you will be rewarded with any and all means at my disposal.”

Again, the flicker of his gaze. The raw hunger in his eyes. Except it’s not just hunger, is it? That’s fear tightening his jaw and drawing a line between his brows.

“What happens if you don’t get an item?” you say.

He loses the last few threads of fake charm. His face goes entirely grim. “It’s already started, I’m afraid. And as you’ve probably noticed. I’ll spare you the finer details, but it begins with simple biological deterioration. Muscle spasms, disorientation, a slight ringing in the ears. And, if left for too long…catastrophe. And not just for myself.”

Jesus on a pogo stick. Only now do you notice the tremor in his hands. The hands he’s carefully left hanging at his sides, rather than draw attention to them as…as he normally does goddamnit.

“Why in the fuck didn’t you say something sooner?” And what the fuck is it about this group of screwheads not letting anybody else know they’re literally starving or like, melting from the fucking inside? These fucking people.

To this, Gale winces. “I don’t intend to impugn what I’ve now seen is your good character…”

“But we’re all a bunch of strangers on a butthole ship. Yeah, okay, I probably didn’t need to ask that.”

A lizard murder hobo, a vampire, and now a wizard with a chronic illness. What the fuck are Shadowheart and Wyll hiding?

You look at the ring. The one good thing in all this. The first actually nice thing you’ve ever had.

But Gale don’t look well at all. And he’s helped you so much in all this. You probably owe him your life, and it’s bad group dynamics to let one of them stumble and fall.

You sigh.

The second you get something nice, the universe comes to snatch it away. As usual.

You try to ignore the way your throat tightens as you wiggle the ring off your pinkie. It’s not even that nice of a ring and it was too small to begin with. And Faerun is littered with more. This was probably their version of one of them quarter machines in a grocery store selling kid’s jewelry. You ain’t gonna get upset over something that small, not when it sounds like this man’s life actually depends on it.

You hold the ring out. His whole face lights up in relief. “Thank you.”

He presses his hands to his chest. His whole body flares in purple light and he kind of grimaces, but it’s the Thanos snap that dissolves the ring to dust what really grabs your attention.

“Holy shit,” you say.

“Yes, it’s quite a sight.” He pants a couple of moments, dry swallows a couple more times, and then sighs as his whole frame relaxes. “H’oh, that hit the spot. I can feel it work. The magic is a lullaby that sings the demon inside to sleep.”

And if that ain’t the most concerning phrase. He must see the “what the fuck” on your face, because he lifts his hands (oh look, he’s gesturing again), and continues. “Not literally. I’m only saying, it has worked. And I am indebted to you, most gracious lady. You can count on me for any aid that you require.”

You…did do it because he makes the potion that keeps your soul from flying off into space. But you also did it because he’s part of the group and you don’t like seeing people hungry or hurting.

“It’s all good,” you say. “How, um, how often d’you need one of them?”

“I was able to wait about a tenday between, back home. I had a steady supply of such artifacts in my tower at Waterdeep, mind you, and I wasn’t gallivanting about the countryside with a worm in my head while fighting packs of goblins. I nearly pushed it too far, this time, and it hasn’t even been that. I suspect I may be down to a hand of days, maybe a few more.”

So about five days, give or take. Swell. Peachy.

Fuck.

“Right,” you say. “I guess we’ll have to keep an eye out, huh?”

The look he gives you is so warm and relieved you have to look away. “I am sorry for asking this of you, but I truly, truly appreciate your help. You do your people credit, Eleanor, to have raised such rare kindness in a person.”

And that’s hitting too close to home.

You nod again, mumble something about heading in for the night. He sweeps down into a both-arms-out bow and leaves you with a defined pep in his step.

He passes Astarion on his way back up, who gives the wizard a single, arched eyebrow.

When the vampire man reaches you, he says, “I’ve known people hungry for power, but Gale takes a bit too literally for my liking. At least I only take blood.”

So he heard. You wonder just how sharp them pointed ears actually are.

Gale needed that ring. You know that, logically. But still, you look to your bare pinkie finger and the cold disappointment sinks into you.

“At least he only wanted that trinket,” Astarion says. “Can you imagine if we’d had to give him something more valuable? Gods, what happens when he needs another one? I’m not donating.”

You try to smile. But too much has happened today, and your own masking game ain’t up to par at the moment. Astarion gives you a sort of pitying look.

“Don’t tell me you actually thought that bauble was useful?” he says.

“Not really. Just, you know. First actually gold thing I ever wore.” And that makes you feel even more pathetic, so time to change the subject and make a joke! “So that means the next one we find, I call dibs, got it?”

He lifts his hands in surrender. Eyes you a second. “Lower class family, was it? Grew up with a single pair of shoes between you and your siblings, and one good dress to visit whichever temple your family liked?”

You huff. “I had three skirts, thank you very much.”

“Oooh, someone’s family was moving up in the world.”

Normally, you’d be down for this sort of game. Teasing is fun when the other person plays into it. But this topic…it’s a little more difficult. And you’d really like nothing more than to crawl into your tent, lay down on your face, and pass out until morning.

You try to smile.

“I’m heading in for the night,” you say. Pause and look him over. He’s a touch paler than he has been the last couple days. A light smear of purple smudged under his eyes. “Have you, y’know, fed on anybody else? Since me, I mean?”

“Haven’t had the chance, darling. Are you offering?” A glint in his eye. You don’t miss his gaze moving down your neck.

“Not tonight, sorry. You took more than my usual donations, I think, and I ain’t really sure how healing spells work when it comes to replacing red blood cells.” At his stare, you veer off into explaining that part of biology, as best you can remember. Then, “But I think in a week, I should be okay. If, y’know, that’ll still help you out.”

He’s on full smarm when he says, “How could I turn down such a delectable offer? Though I’ll be sure to take less next time.”

There’s a slight question at the end of that sentence.

“And I’ll be ready with a potion and some actual bandages,” you say. Last damn thing you need is the whole crew finding your half-bled carcass drooling in the dirt again.

Astarion literally twirls one of his curls around his finger. He’s got such Blanche Devereaux energy.

“Well,” he drawls. “Do let me know when you feel up to it.”

You nod. Lift a hand. “Night.”

“Good night, darling. Do sleep well. I’ll be waiting in my own tent, whiling away the time until I can taste you again.”

Jesus lord.

You consider flipping him off. Decide you don’t wanna take the time to explain that gesture and get into a verbal sparring match over the potential innuendo. Settle for a, “You do that.”

Never has a bedroll been so comfortable.

Which is why you shouldn’t be so surprised when, halfway through a dream involving you and Deadpool (except you were Deadpool?) robbing a steam engine while fighting ninjas armed with a gatling gun, the dream shifts and your soul slams back into your body.

The sudden physicality of it jolts you. Dreams don’t have feeling, but suddenly the air is cool and smells vaguely like…burnt metal? Carbonized steak? You lie flat on your back, staring up at an old screensaver of spinning, LSD purple clouds. And there’s somebody talking nearby. And that voice is vaguely familiar.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[love-kurdt]

This is Me Trying (Mike's Version) (byler): 3

word count: 6,996

warnings for this chapter: none really, ngl. just very honest and open conversation. but same as all the other warnings in previous chapters, just be cautious if you see anything that may trigger you. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short: if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, please dni.

The world buzzed with static around me, each second feeling like an eternity. Time stood still, just like the day I took off my watch. My hands were shaking, the anticipation inside me about to explode like fireworks. I balled my hands up into fists and put them in my sweatshirt pockets, but immediately pulled them back out because I could feel my palms getting sweaty.

I glanced around, and saw the nextdoor neighbor taking her dog out for a walk. I raised my hand in an awkward greeting, and she smiled back at me. I watched her run further and further away until they were out of my line of sight; a minute had definitely passed by now. I turned my attention back to the door, and lifted my hand again, going to knock one last time.

But then, before I was able to, Will opened the door.

I froze, my hand still in the air. I lowered my arm slowly, and took a mental photograph of Will’s awestricken face before I was met with a faceful of door. I should have seen that coming. I leaned my head against the door, exhaling with a shaky breath. “Will… I know I’m the last person you want to see. I just…” I hesitated, digging my nails into my palms. This was likely going to be my first of many fumbles. “This is going fucking splendidly already, Jesus Christ.”

There was no response on Will’s end, but I figured I might as well get everything off my chest, even if Will wasn’t there to hear it. Saying it out loud could probably suffice. “Uh… I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry. For everything. For hurting you with my words, with my actions, for being so fucking reckless with my life. I’ve accumulated a lot of regrets over the past few years, but…” here goes nothing, “loving you will never be one of them.”

I closed my eyes with my head still on the door, but jumped back a bit in surprise when I felt a light thump right next to my face. “... Will?”

“I’m listening.”

The faint sound of Will’s voice was music to my ears; low and velvety, with a hint of rasp. My stomach nervously flipped as I cleared my throat, continuing on. “I’ve been a mess without you. I don’t know who I am without you. This is me trying to say…” I trailed off. What was I trying to say? How could I reduce my love for Will into a single sentence? How could I explain myself in a concise, yet bold form that wouldn’t scare Will away? I couldn’t. I was doomed regardless of how the conversation would unfold. I asked Will the first thing that came to mind: “... You ever been to a college party?”

“Yeah, a few.” Will replied.

“Well, I just failed out of school because I went to way too many of them. I just drove here directly from my last one, actually.” I tried to add a bit of humor to my voice, but it ended up coming out sounding pathetically broken. Fumble number two. Fuck it all. Everything was going down in flames. I set my hand on the door, caressing the painted surface as if it were Will’s face.

“But here’s the thing— it’s hard to be at a party when you feel like an open wound. You’re all I think about, and it’s like I can’t… I can’t let go. It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. And even though you don’t love me, and even if we can never be friends again, I need that closure, Will, and I need you to understand that I won’t move on if that never happens.” I felt the doorknob click below, and I lifted my head up just as the door opened again. Will emerged, tears lining his cheeks. Motherfucking fumble number three. When Will and I were little, we functioned as a unit. When Will was happy, I was happy. When Will would cry, I would cry with him. Now, I felt like I was five years old again, getting choked up at the sight of Will crying, and mentally cursed myself. “Fuck, now I’ve made you cry for the umpteenth time in our lives. What else is new?”

Will crossed his arms across his chest, and looked down towards the ground, still on the defensive. But his voice betrayed him when he said, “No, please don't worry about me. It’s fine. And I…” his voice wobbled, “I’m sorry for slamming the door. I was just so…”

I nodded in sorrowful understanding. “Yeah.”

I took a good look at Will, noticing how Will’s hair had finally grown out of the bowl cut, falling into his eyes in loose copper waves, ending just above his strong jaw. His eyes, even obscured with tears, looked green as ever. I wanted to drown in them.

“You changed your hair,” I heard myself say. Will let out a small smile at that, brushing some of his bangs out of his eyes, along with some tears that had attached themselves to his eyelashes.

“Yeah, the bowl was kind of… archaic.” Both of us began awkwardly laughing while still crying. I had to refrain from thinking too much, because if I did, I'd get all sentimental about how this was the first time I'd laughed with Will in… I couldn’t even remember. 

“You like it, though?” he asked. He still sought my approval, after everything. Of course I liked it. I liked Will’s hair no matter how it was cut. But this style that Will was sporting currently had me falling flat on my face; and not literally, for once.

“Yeah, it really suits you,” I told Will, who was flattered at the compliment.

“Thank you. I mean, Mom’s skill set with scissors was… limited, but she tried.” I thought of that one time I'd walked into the Byers household unannounced back in junior year of high school. Will was sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with a literal bowl on his head as Joyce shuffled around her son with a pair of kitchen shears. Joyce was an incredible mom who loved both of her boys unconditionally. Which reminded me…

“How’d you get my number?”

“Your mom gave it to me over Christmas break.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m sorry for letting her give me your number,” I apologized, picking at the nails of my index fingers with my thumbs. “And I’m sorry for calling you on your birthday. I should’ve respected your space.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Will replied quickly, eyes wide. “I was being a total asshole that day. I know this doesn’t excuse what I said to you, but I’ll have you know I’d just failed an English test–”

“Did you not read the material?” I smirked, and Will smiled back up at me, our eyes fully meeting for the first time. 

“You know me too well,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat. “But then, when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me.”

I gawked at that, my eyes narrowing. “On your birthday? That’s ass.”

Will leaned against the doorframe. “Mike Wheeler, everyone: ex-English major, literary nerd, and author.” I ignored the not-so-subtle roasts in favor of Will’s muscles, which were even more defined than I remembered. Will had obviously become well-acquainted with the gym. My gaze trailed along the divots of his biceps, and my mouth went dry when I realized that Will was wearing… the blue sweatshirt I had sworn had gone missing during senior year.

“But yeah,” Will continued, “leave it to Matt Winters to ruin the one day of the year where I don’t feel like shit. So when you called, I’d just gotten back home. And I felt so guilty for snapping at you and hanging up that I didn’t call you back after the fact, because I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Are you kidding? I could never be mad at you. Ever,” I emphasized. “And we both know I’m not a good person when I hold grudges.”

Will’s strong eyebrows furrowed, and I feared I'd said something wrong, but Will rose up onto his tiptoes, lifting his hand up to my forehead in mock-concern. “Mike, are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Yes. If Will was going to act all flirty and cute and tiptoe-y and forehead touch-y, then we’d need to call an ambulance. Because I was down bad.

“Haha. You’re funny,” I deadpanned at the joke, despite myself.

Will retreated back to his spot in the doorway. “But seriously, I just told you that I have a real live ex, and you’re not mad?” How could I be mad at Will for that? Why would I be mad at Will for that? It wasn’t like I had any right or say as to who Will dated, and if I did so much as judge Will for any romance-related decisions, I'd be the biggest fucking hypocrite to ever walk the earth. I figured I'd come clean to Will about this one. It was the whole reason why I was here, after all.

“Will, I hooked up with four guys…” Should I say this next part? Sure, okay, whatever– “And all of them had the initials ‘WB’.” My focus shifted down to my shoes, too humiliated to see Will’s reaction. But I didn’t even have to see it, because Will giggled. Like, high pitched and adorably. My head snapped up and Will, having gotten caught laughing at my biggest shame, slapped his own hand to his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle it.

“No way,” Will said, his voice still suppressed with his hand.

“Way,” I quipped back. I decided to try something new then, reaching up to Will’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. His beautiful lips were curved into a shy smile.

Will shook his head, crossing his arms again, but not in hostility like he had before. “I don’t believe you.” And all of a sudden, it was August 1989, and we were back in my basement again. Those were Will’s last words to me before he’d stormed out, never to be seen again. And a year and a half later, Will became thoroughly aware of the aftermath, where I’d tried and failed to fill the Will-less void with–

“Wyatt Bowman, Wes Butler, Walker Brooks, Warren Blakeley,” I listed off what I'd endearingly dubbed The WBs™, but now in retrospect viewed as fucking pathetic, and watched as Will exhaled sadly. I tacked the only thing I could think of onto the end of my list to lighten the mood: “... And there was a guy named Elvis.”

Will snorted. “Like Presley?”

“Exactly.”

“Jesus,” Will whispered, running a hand through his hair. I wished it was my hand instead. As I took in Will’s jarred reaction, my world went cold. It made more sense when I shivered, looked up, and felt a few snowflakes land on my eyelids. I lowered my gaze back to Will, avoiding the impending guilt with lighthearted bluntness.

“Yeah,” I concluded unceremoniously, “so, you have an ex-boyfriend, and I have a disturbingly high body count. I think that makes us even.” Will’s lips formed a line, and I diverted my eyes back to the ground. I watched Will’s feet, clad in fuzzy socks and slippers, shift backwards. The moment was finally here; this was the end. We were not, in fact, even; Will was shutting me out for the last time, giving me the closure I'd practically begged for. I lifted my head so I could at least say goodbye properly, but saw that Will was… waiting for me?

“Wanna come inside?” he asked, and I raised my eyebrows in shock. Well, that was a plot twist if I'd ever seen one. I took a deep breath, muttering a slow “Yeah… sure,” and followed Will into his house. I took off my mud-caked shoes at the front door, remembering how much of a neat freak Will was, and imagining his reaction if I tracked the past seven or so hours into the house. I expected it would probably begin with “Michael James.”

Once situated, I took a look around the living room. There were multiple swirly, wooden furniture pieces that I knew Will wouldn’t have picked out in a million years, but he’d still managed to make the apartment his own. Framed movie posters, a black couch, and a few bookshelves were sprinkled modestly amongst the otherwise very feminine decor. I walked over to the bookshelves, which were fully stacked with comic books and picture frames. I peered at one of Will posed with Ivy and Hannah, who gripped onto either side of a metal pole that Will had perched atop his shoulders as he lifted them in a white muscle tank top. I knew he’d started working out. God, Will was attractive. I smiled to myself, moving on to look at the next photo. It was the exact same one I had on my desk, the photo that Jonathan took of me on Will’s handlebars. I felt like crying again, so I looked away before that could happen. My attention was drawn to the ceiling, which was lined with Christmas lights. I guessed the passage of time had thankfully worked in Will’s favor, as well.

“So Kate’s at work?” I asked, and Will whipped around from where he’d been organizing one of his other bookshelves, like he cared about what I thought in regard to his preference of alphabetical versus publisher order.

“How do you know about Kate?”

I hesitated, expression sheepish, “I… I ran into your friends Ivy and Hannah on campus. They’re how I found you.”

Will blanched. “Oh God. What did they say to you?”

I shook my head in reassurance, taking a step towards Will. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I think they were just worried about me, because I was… kind of lost.”

“You didn’t think to get a map?” Will, the little shit, teased as he took a step of his own towards me.

“I had one, Will!” I tossed a hand up in exasperation. “I just… couldn’t read it correctly?” I phrased the last part of my sentence more like a question, which Will must have thought was funny, because he moved a few inches closer to me in order to poke my chest.

“Okay, that tracks,” he grinned, and I feigned offense as I felt Will’s fingerprint burn a hole in my sweatshirt, the fire expanding to scorch my entire torso. Will was close enough that I could hear Will breathing lightly through his nose, and could see the freckles scattered like constellations across his neck. My eyes traveled up a bit to land on the one mole above Will’s lip, and I fought the urge to kiss it.

“Ivy and Hannah said to tell you they said you’re welcome, by the way, whatever that means,” I breathed, and Will processed what I had just told him before bringing his hands up to his own face as he turned beet-red.

“Of course they did.”

I observed Will’s reaction, pushing down the bit of hope that bubbled up inside of me. I hadn’t a single clue of what Will had told his two friends, but the way he reacted made me think that maybe it wasn’t all terrible.

“Wait,” Will brought a hand up to lightly smack his forehead, “I’m so stupid, I should have asked when you first came in.” You’re not stupid at all, if anything I’m stupid, but go on, I thought. “Do you need anything to drink or eat? You look like shit.”

“Wow,” I said as I glared back at Will, giving away my joking nature with a small lift of my lips. “But sure, water is fine, thank you.” Will stood there for a moment in contemplation. I gulped, feeling incredibly anxious as to what Will would say next. 

“I’m gonna make you pancakes,” he told me, ambition in his tone. I wasn’t even supposed to be there, yet there Will was, taking on the role of hospitable host. I shrugged, leaving the option up to Will as to if he really wanted to be that kind to me.

“You don’t have to.”

Will was the one who shortened the distance between them this time, taking my much larger hand in his own, intertwining our fingers and gently rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “But I want to.” I felt lightheaded.

“Well, I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I glanced down at our connected hands as Will spoke again, but I didn’t hear what he was saying. I blinked, pulling my attention back up to Will’s face. How was I supposed to concentrate on what Will was saying when our palms were brushing together with intentionality? And of Will’s own volition, no less. 

“Wait, sorry, what?”

“I said, I’ll have some too, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Well, now I had to say yes. I gave in, and Will nodded in approval before letting go of my hand. Those few sweet seconds would have been enough to last me for another year and a half without him, but now Will was making me pancakes. There was no turning back after this. Will headed to the kitchen, turning back when he noticed me standing in the middle of the room and gesturing for me to follow him, chuckling to himself.

Damn Will for being so aware of the effect he had on me.

We made it into the kitchen, and Will headed to the pantry while I hopped up on the counter like when we were kids. Old habits die hard. Will eyed me from where I stood, grabbing the box of Bisquick. He ritualistically walked around the kitchen, grabbing eggs, milk, vegetable oil, and a bowl before setting them all down on the counter. He paused in what he was doing to reach over to his coffee pot, pouring a mug, grabbing the sugar bowl and dumping whatever was left into the mug before handing it to me. I took it with gracious hands. He’d remembered the way I took my coffee. Black, no cream, and a diabetes-level fuck ton of sugar.

“Thank you.” That didn’t even begin to cover how I felt about it.

Will hummed in response as he got to work, cracking an egg into the bowl and whisking it around. “So what have you been up to? I mean, besides hooking up with the entire male population of Indianapolis and failing out of school,” Will asked, and I died a little on the inside. The truth hurts sometimes, Wheeler. Deal with it.

“Jeez, Will. Harsh. Warn a guy next time,” I frowned, sipping my coffee. “I’ve been working on a novel.”

“Ooh, do tell!” Will exclaimed, turning to me as he stirred the batter, the sweatshirt he wore— my sweatshirt— stretching as his muscles flexed underneath the fabric of the sleeves. I set my coffee down next to me and shifted so my hands were squished under my thighs. That way I wouldn’t be able to do what I truly wanted to, which was to grab Will by his waist and shove my tongue down his throat as I ran my fingertips over Will’s arms.

“Um, it’s a mythological coming of age, with a bit of a twist… the protagonist is gay.”

“Ohhh my god,” Will grinned, all teeth. “That is great. I love that.”

I love you, I thought, but held my tongue. “Right? But yeah, I’ve been working on that, and… journaling. A lot.” Well… journaling was a synonym of writing dozens upon dozens of love letters, right? But Will didn’t have to know that.

“Mike Wheeler using a therapist-approved coping mechanism? I’m proud of you,” Will said. I preened at the praise as I pulled one of my hands out from under my leg to pick up my mug.

There was a beat of silence, and Will stood there, his eyes fixed on me for a strangely long time as the pancakes sizzled. I watched Will’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. I was either hallucinating, tripping, or Will was checking me out.

“But what about you?” I asked, effectively snapping Will out of his trance, “Any groundbreaking endeavors I should be caught up on?”

Will shrugged as he plated the perfectly congruent, golden pancakes he’d made. “I’ve been working on this new painting for a while now… it’s a watercolor piece, so it’s kind of out of my comfort zone,” Will explained, turning to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of Canadian maple syrup. I nodded at what Will was telling me, but something else dwelled in the forefront of my mind.

“Yeah, you’re more into oils on canvas, right?” I asked, and Will’s eyes snapped up to meet his, establishing an understanding between the two of them. “I saw the painting,” I remarked slowly, trying my best not to freak Will out or make him feel ashamed of it. “I’ve gotta say, you flatter me, Byers. I am not that attractive.”

Will couldn’t hide his smile. “Shut up. Yes you are.”

Will handed me a plate, and I thanked him as we dug in, the two of us standing at (and sitting on) the counter as we ate. I cut into my pancakes, stabbing a bite-sized piece with my fork and swirling it around in the syrup on my plate. I looked up when I heard a similar scratching noise and saw Will doing the same thing. Will met my gaze, light smile gracing his face as he lifted the fork up and popped the piece into his mouth. I blushed when I realized I’d been staring, and quickly focused back on my own plate. I chewed the piece of pancake I’d cut and confirmed to myself only after one bite that these were the best pancakes I’d ever had. These were pancakes of reconciliation.

I turned towards Will to compliment his culinary skills, which would inevitably be shot down with a humble, “they’re just pancakes, Mike,” only to see Will staring at me already. Will’s eyes jumped from me to the floor to the kitchen cabinet to the floor and back to me all within the span of five seconds. I held his attention this time when I licked my lips, and Will watched intently as the syrup disappeared.

God, I felt like I was in high school all over again; those four years had felt like a romcom movie montage of staring, quick touches, and flirting back and forth. The only difference between those movies and real life was the reserved, cautious nature behind every single stare, touch, and flirtation. But this time around, I noticed, Will seemed more confident in himself, more purposeful in the way he carried and expressed himself. Everything lingered for longer than normal, than acceptable, than usual. It was a promising sign.

Once we’d finished our pancakes and put our dishes in the sink, Will and I headed to Will’s room. There was something intimate about entering Will’s space like this; something sacred, something previously unattainable. That was the dresser that held all of Will’s clothes. That was the desk Will drew at. That was the bed Will slept in. That was the phone Will had used to break my heart.

I admired the dark blue walls, decorated modestly with a few more posters, before I came across Will’s framed Hawkins High School diploma. I remembered that day vividly; after everyone in the Party had walked across the stage and gone back to my house to celebrate, Will had brought all of our friends into a secluded area of the house and told us he was gay. I, who had been head over heels in love with my best friend for over five years at that point, was having a crisis, because oh my God, Will was gay, and the flirting might not have all been in my head. Maybe I had a chance. But every interaction between them following that day was strictly platonic, and Will made sure I knew it. So I withdrew after a while, not wanting to keep stringing myself along like I had been.

“Little did I know that everything would change,” I said more to myself than to Will, but Will walked over to stand next to me, close enough that our arms brushed.

“Why, because I came out?” he asked, looking up at me, who didn’t reciprocate the action, but instead kept staring straight ahead at the diploma, as if it were a portal that would take me back in time to before my world imploded.

“No, not because you came out. Because… because then, I fell under the delusion that I could finally have you.” I looked down at Will then. “But then I fucked it all up in August.”

Will turned his body so he could fully face me before saying, “Okay, I’m confused. I’ve gotta ask. What’s your recollection of that night?”

I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to remember it. Hell, I didn’t want to think about it. But me took a second to reason with myself, because Will was standing beside me, Will was asking something of me, and the least I could do after everything was oblige to Will’s one request. So I told him.

It was the summer of 1989, and all was well. Hawkins was no longer nationally renowned as an extra-terrestrial hybrid between earth and hell, but simply as a small town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. It was the summer of 1989, and I was lying on the basement couch with my legs hanging off the edge. My eyes were closed, and I wore my headphones which were attached to my Walkman, playing Will’s mixtape on repeat, just as I had from the second it fell into my hands back in 1986. I felt the thumps of the opening and closing of the basement door, followed by light footsteps treading down the stairs. I cracked a singular eye open, but opened them both fully when I registered that it was Will who was entering my space. I always loved when Will came to my house unannounced; there was a certain element of familiarity, of family, of domesticity.

“Mike, we’ve gotta talk,” Will said, his voice a bit edgier than usual.

“Okay, what’s up? Are you–” I sat up, pulling my headphones fully off my head and resting them around my neck. Then I saw the look on Will’s face. He looked livid.

“What the fuck are these?” Will spat. My eyes widened at what Will held in his hands. Fuck. How on earth did he find them? I thought I'd hidden them well enough. Apparently, I was sorely mistaken, because Will held my letters, all twenty-six of them, all addressed to Will, in his shaking hands. I couldn’t even begin to explain, mouth hanging wide open.

“Dear Will,” the boy with the bowlcut began with a snarl, “when I look into your eyes, I see the rest of my life. Dear Will, why does loving you feel so wrong yet so right? Dear Will, I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.” I wanted to die. “I don’t know what to… Why the hell are these addressed to me? And why… Why are there so many?”

“Because…” I squeaked out, eyes wide with intimidation, “they were for you. You were never meant to find those, I swear to God.”

“Are you making fun of me or something?” Will snapped, and I flinched. I'd never seen Will this angry before. I stood up then, my face on fire with inferiority from when I’d been on the couch as Will towered over me. Now, I was the one looking down at Will, whose chest was heaving with unadulterated rage.

“Come on, Will! I’m your best friend, and you really thought I’d make fun of you for being gay?” I kept my tone soft, what the Party called my Will Voice™, trying to calm Will down. It worked, at least a little bit, because Will’s breathing became more regulated, and less metaphorical smoke escaped his ears. But his eyes were still a menacing shade of green, his pupils blown wide.

“Well, no,” Will’s voice was lower this time, laced with venom, “but that does not mean you get to fuck around at my expense.” Will could not have been more wrong. I was anything but fucking around. Malice was the last thing on my mind when I thought about Will. When I thought about Will, I felt safe, I felt hopeful, I felt valuable, and I felt worthy. What I felt for Will was pure love, and I'd say it out loud… if I didn’t hate myself so much.

“I poured my heart out in those letters,” I told him, taking a step forward. Will stepped back. “I didn’t write them for shits and fucking giggles, they were genuine,” I continued, following Will as he backed away, stopping only when I had Will caged in between my arms, back against the wall of the basement. Will held onto my wrist, our watches positioned side by side. I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath, collecting myself in preparation for what I was about to say next. Confession time. “I wanted to send them so badly… I just didn’t, because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

I opened my eyes, drinking in the expression on Will’s flustered face. He blinked slowly, lashes fluttering, and fuck, I could hear Will’s heartbeat. I licked my lips. Afraid of what? I’m afraid of the world. I’m afraid of our country. I’m afraid of this town. I’m afraid of my family. I’m afraid of your dad. I’m afraid of myself. But I’m not afraid of you, Will. I’m not afraid of you.

And with that, I leaned down and kissed Will.

Those were the best five seconds of my life, by far. Will’s lips were smooth, yet firm. They were warm. I wanted to kiss Will forever. I allowed myself, for once in my life, to take what I wanted, and moved my hands down from the wall to Will’s hips, gripping them with all of my pent-up passion, holding him close. I felt Will’s hands meet my shoulders, and… he was pushing me away. Oh no.

“What are you doing, Mike? Is this a joke?” What was it with Will thinking everything was so fucking funny to me? I'd just bared my soul to the love of my life, but Will had interpreted everything as simply cruel humor. That was what Will thought of me. I wouldn’t stand for it.

“No, Will, I’m in love with you,” I said in full earnest, grabbing Will’s hand, just like I'd always done throughout the years whenever Will felt angry, alone, or scared. In turn, Will aggressively shook my hand away like it burned him.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” What the hell?

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“I just… you’re…” Will forced his words out in a state of panic, ducking out of my reach as he headed for the stairs. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

“Please don’t go. Hear me out,” I pleaded, getting desperate now. “Will, you’ve got to believe me.”

Will turned around from where he stood, halfway to the basement door, his gaze ice cold. “Well, I don’t, Mike. I don’t believe you.” I took back what I’d thought about not being afraid of Will. I was terrified. I watched Will stomp up the rest of the way, slamming the door behind him. I put a hand up to my mouth, muffling a sob.

What had I done?

I stopped my pacing for a moment to breathe. I'd gotten it all out, and by some miracle, without breaking down. I looked over at Will, who rested his chin on his palm as he sat on his bed, staring into space. “I never got the chance to explain myself. You just… shut off.” Will blinked a few times, looking up at me with that same blank expression, and I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. I didn’t have the energy.

Will breathed out hard through his nose, getting up from his spot on the bed and meeting me where I was at, and placing a hand on my arm. I didn’t move; all this talk about Will abandoning me caused some of the resentment to return. But Will took my chin and moved it so our eyes could meet again. He looked sad.

“Because I had convinced myself that you could never love me the way I loved you. But all of a sudden you were telling me that you loved me romantically and wanted to be with me forever! How can you blame me for being thrown off?”

I shrugged, resigned. “I can’t.” And I meant it; I couldn’t blame Will for being thrown off, because I had gone through the complete opposite, having felt led on and let down. “But you also can’t blame me for waiting so long to say something. I literally hated myself for years for being gay.” Will’s hand that held my chin lowered down to the space between my neck and my shoulder, and he went to reply, but I spoke faster. “And when you came out, I thought maybe I could, too. But then, another part of me didn’t want to say anything, because coming clean about my true feelings for you would’ve destroyed everything we worked so hard to build back up after California.”

“Well, I didn’t make it any easier by keeping you at arm’s length after I came out,” Will said as he ran his thumb back and forth along my sweatshirt sleeve. “I tried to convince myself I was okay with being just friends in order to protect myself, you know?”

“Yeah,” my tone was rough as I crossed my arms, and Will pulled away. Nice going, Mike, you fucking asshole. “I mean…” I softened my voice, “I get your thought process. I just felt so… rejected. And after August, it felt so final. Like, I really thought you had zero feelings for me, and that I had severely misread things.”

“You didn’t. Believe me, Mike. You didn’t,” the words tumbled out of Will’s mouth, startling both of us at once.

I looked down, feeling the beginnings of tears pricking my eyes. “I’m trying to.”

Will reached out to me and pulled my hand up into his own, his fingertips gently mapping out the veins that spread out beneath my skin. “Do you still hate yourself now?” he asked, and I looked up slowly.

“I’m not gonna lie, yeah, I do,” I admitted, playing with Will’s fingers as I spoke. I was not proud of the person I'd become. I relived every single one of my mistakes on a constant loop, with each day bleeding into the next. The shame devoured me like a hungry beast. Every waking moment without Will felt like suffocation. I slowed my movements before confessing something else, something I never thought I’d ever be able to. “But I hate living my life without you even more.”

Will let out a small sniffle at that, and I was quick to comfort him, my hands flying up to cup his face and swipe his tears away. Will leaned into the touch, his voice breaking. “I hate living my life without you, too.”

“Can I…” I hesitated, uncertainty flooding my thoughts, but I swiftly pushed it away. “Can I hug you?” I asked. Will nodded, laughing wetly as he said, “Yes, of course.”

I pulled Will into a tight embrace, warmth filling my body instantly as Will’s head fell against my chest, right over my heart. I could only imagine what Will was thinking, granted the fact that my heart was thrumming at record speed. Will ran his hands up my back, pulling me down slightly by my shoulderblades. I nestled my nose in Will’s shaggy hair, breathing him in. He still washed his hair with the coconut shampoo he’d always used. In order to avoid the temptation to inhale Will’s scalp like a vacuum, I opted to place a feather light kiss there, so light that in the future, only I would remember it happening. As we stood there, our bodies flush against one another, I knew I didn’t need a watch to tell that time as an entity ceased to exist. Will and I held each other tightly as the rest of the world fell away. This was what I had been waiting for. Just this. I finally felt whole again.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been clinging to each other, or who pulled away first, but I was sure of the fact that both of us were crying. Again. “Goddamnit,” I laughed, practically slapping my sweatshirt sleeve up to my face to absorb the tears that fell there.

“Since when have you been a Frequent Crier?” Will teased, and I remembered that Will had never been exposed to the outcome of my emotional revolution before.

“What can I say?” I continued the bit, “Their loyalty program has really good perks.”

“Can’t argue there,” Will laughed, leaning his forehead onto my chest again as my hands ran up and down Will’s sides. I memorized the feel of Will’s improved physique, trailing my hands upwards until my hands met Will’s chest.

“Also,” I said into the silence, causing Will to twitch slightly, but not enough to remove his forehead from my chest. “The Heart? Didn’t know I was still held in such high esteem.” Will’s hands, which had been resting on my hips, moved forward until they were wrapped around my lower back. 

“You’ve always been my heart, Mike,” Will told me, voice steady and sure. “You never really stopped.” I felt my jaw drop, barely able to process what I was hearing. The words that left Will’s lips ricocheted around my brain, and I might have forgotten how to breathe for a minute. I needed Will to pinch me, so he could wake up from this… if it wasn’t real, it would be a nightmare. Instead of asking Will to do it for me, I pinched myself, and felt butterflies erupt in my stomach when I didn’t snap my eyes open to the sight of my bedroom back in Indianapolis. I was still here, in Will’s room, and Will was holding me rather sensually, and I felt so fucking alive. 

“So… where do we go from here?” I whispered, and Will lifted his head, an unrecognizable look in his eyes. I backed away, fear slowly entering the peripherals of my mind, all possible worst-case scenarios threatening to cave in on me. I'd gone too far, been too forward, taken Will for granted, given off the impression of an ulterior motive.

“Sorry,” I said, almost a reflex at this point in my life. I always had something to be sorry for. Something to make up for. Something to–

“Me too,” Will whispered, grabbing my wrist before I could get too far. He pulled me back in sharply and grabbed me by the back of my neck, tugging me all the way down until our lips collided. I let out a little noise in absolute shock, but not wasting any time as I shoved my hands into Will’s hair, raising my head as I leaned into the heat of Will’s mouth. While my hands remained pretty central to Will’s upper body, Will’s hands roved me everywhere they possibly could. They lifted from my lower back, up my torso, past my chest, around the back of my head to brush the nape of my neck, through my long hair, then back down to grope my ass. I squeaked into Will’s mouth, and he responded with a low hum of a laugh that sent vibrations through my body and set me ablaze. I lowered my grip on Will’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing them the way I'd wanted to since Will opened the door earlier that morning. Will broke the kiss and looked up, smirk on his lips. “You really like my arms, don’t you?”

“Yeah, how’d you notice?” I tried to be sarcastic, but ended up sounding breathless. Will pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, turning us around and backing me up until my calves hit the base of Will’s bed. I was sure I had died and gone to heaven.

“You wouldn’t stop ogling. You were being so fucking obvious, it was hilarious,” Will teased, and I whined a little in embarrassment, but Will was having none of it, so he pushed me backwards until my back hit the mattress. “Don’t worry, babe, it was cute.”

Babe. I had thought Will would only call me that in my dreams. But this wasn’t a dream. I watched as Will climbed on top of me, one leg on either side of my waist, and leaned down to kiss me, nice and slow. I ran my tongue along Will’s lower lip, and he let me in immediately. We continued like that for a few minutes until Will lifted my arms up so they were pinned above my head, and I quietly moaned as Will began to kiss down my neck. I smiled at the ceiling. I loved Will Byers, and Will Byers loved me. All was right with the world.But I would have a lot to explain over Christmas.

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[autistic-zukoao3]

I often lose my speech, so I have two different apps on my phone to help with that. One is an AAC board with pictures, and the other is text to speech. I haven't used the AAC board one enough to give a review, but I have for my text to speech.

App Name: Tell Me

Location: Google Playstore (unsure if on Apple)

Price: Free

Rating: 4/5

This is the screen you see upon opening the app. You can change the pitch, volume, and speed of the voice right off the bat.

If you tap the three lines in the top left corner it brings you to Preset Text, where you can create and save sentences/words

So far I haven't reached a limit, so I'm not sure how many you can save.

When I was working, this is something I used pretty often because I would lose my speech several times a day. Sometimes I just would not be able to talk with my mouth the entire day, so this app was vital.

Now, onto the few issues I have with the app:

The voice option in settings (which is accessed via the three dots in the top right corner on the main screen) is a bit hard to figure out. Clicking it brings you to your phone's text to speech settings, and from there you edit the voice to one you feel best suits you. That all took me about 30 minutes to figure out.

The dark mode is fine, but the text colour options don't mesh well with dark mode. It makes my eyes strain, no matter what colour I use. So, I keep it on light mode because the text meshes well with it. But if light mode is too bright, then you may have issues.

Overall, I do really like this app. I've had it for about five years, though today is the first time I've actually messed with the settings and changed the voice. I've had to use it quite a few times, and it's helped a lot, though often people would try and talk over it to demand I verbally explain what's happening (mainly my manager at where I used to work, who knew full well I lost speech and used this app to communicate) but that's not the app's fault, it's ableism.

[harrison-abbott]

Looked Like a Bomb

My ex wife Elizabeth was wanting me to send over some plates of hers that she’d left in the house. These fancy plates that’d belonged to her grandmother – I’d put them in the attic for safe keeping. Elizabeth had moved out two years back. And this was one of only two times since then that she’d gotten in contact with me.

I said, sure, I will send the plates back. And what’s your address? She lived in another city these days, fifty miles away.

Going up to the attic, I retrieved the plates. They were all dusty so I carefully wiped the dust off with a cloth. I got out a shoe box from these Mountain Warehouse boots I’d bought recently – the box being big enough to fit the plates in (because they were wee) and I had some bubble wrap in the cupboard, and wrapped them around the plates as thick as possible. Then I scrunched up newspaper and put that in bobbles around the package. And sealed it all up with tape.

Then took the box down to the Post Office. The clerk guy who saw the package was suspicious – and indeed it kinda looked like a bomb – and he asked me what was inside. I politely explained and he accepted. I asked the guy if these plates would be okay being sent in the mail, because they were quite precious. He said yes, I could send them by protected posting and they should be fine. The postal fee, to send them, was extortionate. But I thought, what the hey, it had to be done. I then texted Elizabeth to tell her I’d posted them over to her. She didn’t text back.

What she did was called back, three days later. As I say, I barely ever heard from her in modern times, so I was a bit nervous about picking up and hearing her voice.

“Hello?” I said.

“Adam …” she hissed.

“Yeah, Elizabeth. Hello?”

“You broke one of my grandmother’s plates!”

“Ehh. I don’t understand.”

“I received the box that you sent. You sent my plates along in a shoebox?”

“One of the plates is broken?”

“It’s chipped.”

“Chipped … Oh. I didn’t notice that when I put it in.”

“Because you sent it in such a flimsy blooming box, you idiot.”

“I took quite a lot of care when I packaged the box. I even paid extra at the Post Office, with the secure packaging, or whatever it’s called.”

“Adam! This was my grandmother’s cherished plate – it’s been in our family for decades – it was a treasured item.”

“Umm … How big is the chip?”

I knew I shouldn’t have said this last sentence. It was too flippant a question – and she properly exploded after I had said that. She’d already been shouting, but then she went gung ho berserk, swearing avidly. I told her that I was sorry. Apologised ten times. There was nothing to abate her. And I did, genuinely, feel bad about the plate.

But, jeepers, when Elizabeth gets angry, there’s nothing to hinder the fury. I hadn’t heard her like this in quite some time. And I could see her in my mind with her red cheeks and scrunched eyes.

The tirade lasted fifteen minutes and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I said I would pay for the repair of the chip, if she wanted to take it to a specialist. Then I said good bye for now and hung up. My heartbeat was thudding and all of these emotions from the past had come back. Memories that I didn’t want, that I thought had diminished.

Elizabeth was a woman that I used to love and had been married to for five years. Had spent an entire chunk of my life with her. The main reason why we split up was because she wanted children. And I, umm, was not capable of making kids.

I texted her later that night after the call and apologised again and said I never meant for the plate to be damaged. Despite all of this, I still wondered whether the chip had even been caused when it was being delivered – it might’ve been wounded already. Wasn’t sure. Elizabeth didn’t text back that night.

She emailed me back days later. The email said this:

“Adam. I have been to an antique specialist in town. He says there’s no possible way of repairing the plate. I’m so angry with you. Why would you do something as foolish as that – to send them along unsafely. After all the things you’ve done to hurt me, this is one of the worst.”

I emailed her back and said,

“Dear Elizabeth. I can pay for a replacement plate? If that’s an option? Can you ask the specialist chap if he can order a replacement?”

There was no answer from her. And the years clocked up without any response.

After hearing her voice it made me remember other things too. Her thick yellow hair and the oily shapes of her legs and her small nose. She was a real beauty.

When I mentioned that we ‘split up’: she was the one that left me. I never wanted her to leave, despite all of those shouting sprees. There were several things I tried to get her to stay, but she left. One of the final things she yelled at me was, “I’d rather be with a real man!”

It’s odd how you can still have feelings for somebody who has hurt you so. And despite their vociferous tongue. Despite them looking so exquisite, they can detonate at the slightest thing.

I didn’t date anybody after Elizabeth. Just lost confidence. And my hair greyed and my stomach fat worsened. Even when I tried to get more exercise, the stomach only got bigger and it was harder to look at the mirror in the mornings. And when I saw pretty girls in films, or handsome men in films, I realised that I used to be young, and wasn’t, anymore.

So I just live on my own these days. And try to concentrate on hobbies – and there are a handful of friends who I speak to now and then. That’s about it. I highly doubt Elizabeth will ever get in contact with me again. And the masochistic thing is that I’d quite like to hear her crazy voice again.

[lollipencil]

Mental Literacy: Part 2

Might as well keep going on this one.

Enjoy and be gentle ---

Marc's finger tapped inaudibly on the table in front of him. For thirty minutes, he had chased Raz all over the place. Stopping and starting when he couldn't find whoever he was looking for. Finally, they both headed back the Motherlobe. "Wait here," Raz had said inside a noodle shop, "I'll see if he's in a meeting." Tossing a few very familar crystal shards on the table before leaving.

And so, they waited. "What is with this place and brain imagery?" Marc asked under his breath. A sense of shrugged shoulders radiated from Steven, while Jake seemed to double his internal frown.

About five minutes passed, and someone finally came over. But not Raz. "Hello," a light voice appeared to their right, "do you mind if I sit here?" Looking up, Marc saw a woman dressed in warm oranges and reds smiling down at them in genuine politeness. "Sure, waiting for someone anyway," Marc shrugged. "Thank you darling."

With the grace of a professional dancer, she lowered herself into the chair opposite them, not actually sitting but rather hovering a few inches above. Silence echoed between them. "I've not seen you around before," the woman finally offered. "No, I've never been here before now," Marc stated plainly. "Oh? And what brings you here?" "I'd like to know that too."

The sentence slipt out before Marc could stop it. Tension at once flooded their body, not unnoticed. "Oh, there's no need for that," the woman waved her hand as if to brush away the sudden change in mood, "There's no danger here." "She's right," Steven soothed both Marc and Jake, "Calm down." "Although, I do have a confession to make." Marc didn't say anything, merely retained what tension was left and looked at her. "I was asked to talk to you." "By who?" Marc just barely avoided snarling. "Razputin."

That took the wind right out of his sails: "Oh?" "Yes, he got dragged into a meeting with Agents Cruller and Forsythe. But, before that, he shared a theory he had and asked if I could test it, and keep you company at the same time." "What kind of theory?" "He noticed that after teaching you Telekensis, the migraines you've been experiencing seemed to lessen," the woman explained, "Razputin thought that, if I taught you my specialty, we could then see if they are linked to your current level of psychic ability."

This thought rolled around their head, being bumped back and forth between the three of them. "I mean," Steven interjected after several minutes of silent thought, "it's not a bad idea." "Si, but how are we even able to do these things?" Jake pressed. "Don't think even they know yet, Jake," Marc sighed mentally, "But, these headaches have got to go."

"Alright," Marc said aloud, "Let's do it." "Great!" the woman's chair spun in her surge of excitement, "Oh! I haven't even told you my name, I'm Milla." "Marc", he smiled awkwardly, looking around. Nobody seemed to worry about them too much.

"Right then, Marc," Milla's voice retained the lightness but gained a business-like tone, pulling out a small door, "Do you know what this is?" "...No." "This is a Psycho-Portal. It's used to access a person's mental world safely." "You want to go inside my head?" Hidden alarm tinged Marc's question. "No, no, darling," Milla reassured, placing the Portal on her own head, "You're going inside mine!"

Before Marc could say anything else, the door opened to reveal a bright swirling light. And he felt himself drift.

---

The next thing Marc knew, he's crashing on a bright carpeted floor. Quickly, two large sources of weight pinned him to the floor. "What!? Jake, get off!" Steven's voice came from somewhere above Marc. "I'm trying! Just let me-" "Ow, that's my fricking kidney!" Marc yelled. And somehow managed to tip the heap they all had formed to the left.

Music kept on playing on loop as they lay there. "What the...?" Jake's question drifted away as he took in the decor. "Hello!" Milla cooed suddenly. All three of their heads turned in sync to see her dancing on a big screen: "Welcome to the party! Although, I must apologise, I did not realise you were a system. Not that it matters, everyone's invited to my party!" "Good to know," Steven noted with a groan as he sat up.

They looked around at bright colours and lava lamps. "So," Marc couldn't think of a comment to make, "You said something about teaching?" "Oh yes," Milla nodded with great enthuesasim, "I've been teaching levitation for many years now. I will have to tweak it somewhat for you three, but that's not a problem." "Levitation, eh?" Jake raised an eyebrow, "Alright then." "The first thing you need to do is gather positive thoughts," Milla instructed, "Then, imagine a bubble underneath you. And the thoughts are inflating it, lifting you up as it grows." "Ah," Jake couldn't help but drawl, "How very 'Peter Pan' of you."

A yelp suddenly came from Steven. Marc and Jake whipped their heads around to see his legs over the top of a blue glowing replica of the moon. "I'm alright!" Steven called with a thumbs-up. Marc pointed casually at the mini moon as Steven started to climb up onto it: "I take it that's what we should be doing."

"Yes, thought bubbles are often used for levitation beginners, but they can be used for any number of other things," Milla nodded cheerily. "Such as?" Steven asked, lightly bouncing on the glowing orb. "Volleyball, or in place of wheels in some cases."

Marc and Jake looked at each other and shrugged in agreement. To Marc's surprise, he found it quite easy. His own bubble matched the moon more closely in colour. "Hey, I think I'm starting to getting the hang of this," Steven crowed as he began to roll in rapidly faster circles around them. "That you are, buddy," Marc chuckled, before standing on his own and finding his balance.

Soon the pair of them were chasing each other, laughter filling the thin space, until they noticed something. Jake wasn't with them. He was still land-bound, brow furrowed with effort as he struggled to come up with the positive thoughts needed.

Marc and Steven sat cross-legged on their bubbles and urged them forward slowly. Once rolled right up to Jake's side, they both leaned down to his ears: "Thanks for keeping us safe." "You're doing a great job, buddy." "You're so loved." "We couldn't have done it without you." "We're so glad that you're here."

Soon enough, a blood red moon sent Jake into Marc and Steven's waiting arms. "Perfect, darlings!" Milla cheered from the screen, "Now we can start the party!"