#sorry for slight blur tumblr is EATING this one

[7-andahalf-rats]

he's a good dad

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[bluelancelion]

I just finished Chainsaw Man's first Arc and I am not normal about it so I need to let it out.

Also warning for major spoilers down here.

DISCLAIMER: Pics had to be blurred cause Tumblr wouldn't let me post them otherwise.

*inhales*

First of all, I fucking hate people commenting their ignorance on Instagram under posts of Denji and Power bathing together naked.

Listen.

I don't think any of you understood the meaning of that chapter.

After the literal hell they experienced, Power was terrified. Terror was the only thing she could feel. Fear. Paranoia.

And who are here for her?

Her family.

I don't give a crap if they bather naked. Dude. Have you any idea how... vulnerable that moment was?

Denji declined a solo trip with Makima because he was worried about Power. Because he didn't want to let her (or Aki) alone after what happened.

Now you can tell me "that's not sibling love, it's romantic/sexual because they did this and that". Look, you can have your own opinion, but I have mine and this post is me explaining my point.

Denji looked after Power, looked that there was no darkness in her mouth or behind her, he made her eat, they took a bath together because Power was so scared to be left alone, slept together and Not👏a single👏 time👏 Denji thought it was sexual/romantic.

Dude even says it out loud for you to understand it.

I'm sorry if you expected a hyper realistic sibling dynamic copy pasted from your sad realistic life, but-

This was literally two broken people, who never experienced a normal life, giving comfort to each other.

Did they want to kiss or fuck in that bathtub? Hell no.

In the bed? They were literally jusy sad, scared and tired. Hello??????

Power let Denji drink her blood because she thought Denji would hate her for making him stay to look after her instead of going out with Makima.

"But can't you see it? That's so romantic!"

DUDE👏

If your sibling (brother/sister) were terrified after a traumatic event and were afraid to even poop alone, don't you stay with them? If they are afraid of being alone in the bathroom, don't you stay with them?? I'll be DAMNED if you find it wrong to sleep in the same bed with your sibling because you're the opposite gender.

If you think it's weird, I've got news for you: Your mind is fucked up!

And the whole giving blood thing because Denji would hate her (spoiler: he would not, but oh well) is obviously cause, DUH, this is Chainsaw Man,

It's not exactly the best most healthy and positivity and flowers and happiness manga. There is not even a slight hint of anything NOT toxic, because surprise! It's a seinen! And fictional! With the purpose of entertainment!

You know what's one single pure thing about all of this? The Denji and Power sibling vulnerability chapter.

You'll have to take them siblings from my cold dead hands.

[jovialluminaryalpaca]

True Beauty | Little by Little | Han Seojun x Kang Soojin fanfic series/one shot? Idk

Part 2 , Part 3

This is the first time, I'm posting something on Tumblr, so bear with me haha, I don't know why but I kinda would've loved to see Soojin with Han Seojun after the time leap and her redemption. It's my opinion and I'll feel absolutely grateful if y'all respect it, thank you, I hope y'all will like it.

Warnings: Slight panic attack trigger mention (not edited)

It was late in the evening and it had been an hour since Seojun left the studio for the day, he now sat on one of the stools staring at the empty glass in front of him. He didn't know why he was here but there he was, he remembered coming to this place for the first time, the night he let Jugyeong go back to Suho and after that night, he found himself coming back to this place often, whenever he needed a break or to get away from everything for a while.

He rubbed his face a little too harshly to check if he was sober enough to move and to his luck, he was just tipsy. He paid for his order and bought himself a simple soda before leaving the place. He put his mask and beanie on and kept walking as the cool wind hit him. He kept looking around to see if anyone recognised him but much to his pleasure no one did. His eyes stopped and soon did his feet when his eyes fell on a familiar figure. He blinked twice to make sure if he wasn't hallucinating.

What was she doing here?

He felt bold and decided to walk up to her. He kept walking till he stood a feet away from her. She had pamphlets in her hands and struggled as she tried to hold them steady and approached people to help people in need. She took out another pamphlet out as she felt a figure walk near her and looked up only to freeze in her place. Her words stopped in her mouth as she looked at those eyes. She was not blind to not recognize who was standing in front of her.

He expected his face to lift in a scowl as usual but it didn't. He was surprised, indeed and definitely had no words to speak. He knew that she met Jugyeong and reconciled with her but he never really bothered to know about her whereabouts. But after what he saw in front of him, he definitely didn't want to be that person who would laugh on her face and blame karma and he obviously didn't want to ack like a jerk and rub salt on her open wounds. So he didn't speak a word and just observed her as she stared right back at him.

She changed so much, he observed. Something about her was different, it wasn't like she was not the Kang Soojin he knew in his teen days, she was still her, but she looked so much better, somewhat relaxed and for some reason it felt like whatever that ate her then was not there around her now and it was very visible on her face. He shook his head wordlessly and turned around.

"Ya, Han Seojun." She called out as he stopped in his place. There was silence for a while as she took a deep breath and walked closer to him.

"I owe you an apology." She said as he blinked while his back faced her.

"Can we go somewhere where we can talk alone?" She continued hesitantly expecting him to walk away as soon as those words left her mouth but to her surprise he turned around and looked at her.

"Okay." He said and followed her.

-

"Thank you." Soojin said and bowed a little to the helper and sat in her chair as Seojun studied her.

He leaned forward and took a bite of the food in front of him and she gulped as she faced him finally.

"What I did back then was very foolish of me. I despise myself for stepping down to that level." She said as he listened to her.

"And I don't expect you to forgive me because I am asking you to. I know I'll always carry the guilt of hurting people who trusted me. I owe you an apology, even if what I did wasn't directed towards you." She said as she looked down and placed her palm on the table.

"I'm sorry." She finally said as he slurped his drink.

"It's alright." He said and she looked up with slightly wide eyes.

"What?" He asked as she opened her mouth to say something but closed it again.

"I didn't expect you to forgive me so easily." She said as he placed his drink on the table.

"Like you said, what you did wasn't directed towards me. If Jugyeong gave you another chance, I can do it too. Anyways, We weren't really friends in the first place, so yeah." He said as she nodded and then there was a wave of silence that surrounded them.

She felt grateful that he forgave her.

"You didn't come to Heegyeong unni's wedding?" She asked.

"Yeah, I was busy with my debut and all of that." He replied with a shrug.

"Oh." She replied as he nodded.

"So, you are an idol, now." She said as he looked and rolled his eyes slightly.

"Yes, that I am." He said.

"How does it feel to be one?" She asked.

"Stressful. But, I feel happy that I get to live my dream." He said with a small smile on his face. She smiled back and nodded.

"I thought you didn't come because of well...nevermind." She said as he looked at her and she ignored his gaze and went back to eating her food.

"Honestly, I didn't come because Jugyeong told me that she invited you." He said as she looked up.

"Well, of course, you hate me." She mumbled and to her surprise he heard it.

"I did. But, I don't think quite the same now." He said.

"Does it mean you hate me less now?" She asked as he chuckled to her surprise.

"Weren't you the one who despised me?" He asked as he raised one of his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe, I was and it was because of obvious reasons." She said in a light humourous tone.

"Is that so? Can I know the obvious reasons please?" He asked as she cleared her throat and lifted her fingers to start counting and he could not help but notice how her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as she revisited those years.

_

"Soojin-ah" Soo ah called out as she held her friend's hand and pulled her along and made her sit on the table where all her friends were seated on. She looked around and found Cho rong eating as Hye min tried her best to control her laughter while looking at her partner and eating her food in silence, Tae hoon was asking Soo ah to eat first and take selfies later because the food might cool down and not taste the same, Jugyeong was explaining something on her phone to Suho as he fed her and then there was Seojun who looked appalled at the sight of the couples that surrounded him. He was seated right in front of her at the corner of the table and sulked as he leaned his head on the pillar next to him and waited for his food. His eyes were closed and disgust was clear on his face. It had been two months since she first ran into him on the road while distributing pamphlets for a charity event and now they were friends and dare she say best friends because it haunted her how comfortable she felt around him and how she actually liked spending time with a guy who once so full of himself. She pushed her leg forward and tapped his shoe. He got startled and opened his eyes to look around and then looked at Soojin who smiled innocently at him. He lips lifted in a scowl as he murmured something and went back to sleep as Soojin chuckled, ofcourse sleep was important.

He jolted up again and looked at her as she was looking at the menu.

"Ya Kang Soojin. When did you come?" He asked.

"A few minutes back." She replied as her eyes checked the menu out and he looked at her and couldn't help but smile as she observed the prices of the food items.

He missed her, it had been a week since they last saw each other because he was busy with recording his new album and couldn't find time to catch up with her as she was busy arranging and hosting charity events.

He cleared his throat as he saw Suho look at him and then at Soojin and went back to feeding Jugyeong as she opened her mouth wide. Seojun rolled his eyes at Suho and scrunched his nose up, he sighed as he relaxed his face and then looked at his phone and scrolled through his social media to find something interesting, his order appeared in front of him when he sat his phone aside. He thanked the waiter and dug in. Soojin just stared at with disgust as he finished the entire plate by the time her food arrived and he shrugged as he looked at her.

A smile appeared on her face before she could stop herself, she shook her head and looked at her plate, neither of them knew what was happening but the entire table looked at them start a new chapter in their own books.

_

Soojin sighed as she sat on her table and removed the hand that covered her forehead as she completed her work. Today was a very stressful day for her with so many events to plan but she was happy that she got to relax later as Seojun promised her a meal at her favourite restaurant and then a game night.

She switched the lights off, picked her belongings, locked the room and walked out. She smiled as she remembered how many times Seojun apologised to her for not attending the event which was arranged by her and promised to make it up to her. She didn't know how both of them got there but they did. Her younger self would've laughed on her face if she said that she would be one of Seojun's close friends one day.

To be honest, they were nothing alike, she was smart and he was well kinda dumb, she came from a very different household where she yearned for love from family and he came from a family who absolutely loved him and provided him with as much comfort as possible, she was terrible at singing and his voice was absolutely beautiful, but maybe the difference was something that made them different than the others out there, it made them unique.

She bumped into someone and her smile faltered as she looked at the person. Her heart raced in her chest and she felt terrible memories flood her head and she froze in her place. Tears blurred her vision as she looked at the person in front of her.

"Soojin?" The figure, her father asked and she heard footsteps approach them but she didn't turn around to look at who it was as her eyes were fixed on the person in front of her.

"Ya, Kang Soojin. See, I'm early..." Seojun trailed off as he noticed the presence of another figure around her.

"Get out." She said with anger in her voice as it broke in the end.

"Soojin..." Her father asked again.

"GET OUT." She screamed as both the figures around her remained still in their place, while one was in shock and the other was worried. She waited for a while for her father to leave and when she noticed that her father wasn't leaving anytime soon, she turned the other way and walked past him as Seojun looked at her and followed her outside.

"Soojin?" He called out as she kept walking.

"Soojin?" He called louder but she still didn't stop, her vision was blurry with the tears that kept running down her cheek and she kept wiping them off aggressively. He ran towards her and held her hand to stop her and she turned around to snap at the person who did that but she couldn't when she looked at who it was.

"Come with me." He said softly as he took her to his car and both of them sat inside in silence, he started the car and drove to her apartment. When they reached, she got out without saying a word to him and walked towards the elevator. He locked his car and ran behind to stop her. He was surprised how she managed to get into the elevator in the time he locked his car.

"Soo jin?" He called as he finally caught up with her in front of her apartment and she stopped in her tracks.

She didn't turn around and sniffled quietly.

"Are you alright?" He asked hesitantly. He heard no response, tears didn't stop flowing down her cheeks. His heart dropped at the sight in front of him, he didn't like watching her cry, it hurt him and he didn't understand why it did, but it did. He hesitantly walked closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Say something." He said and at that moment she turned around, wrapped her arms around him and broke down in his arms. He was taken aback but he caressed her back slowly to calm her down. She hicupped as he stayed still and let her let it all out.

After a very long time, she finally stopped and let her hiccupping self dettach from him feeling a little embarrassed but he didn't care about it. He held her face and brushed the remaining tears off from her face and gave her a small smile.

"I don't know who that was and what happened. But, all I'll tell is, our past never defines us, it's behind us, it's like a closed book, you are not what you were years ago and I know that after getting to know you in the time we spent together in past few months. Don't let it bother you too much. Okay? Take care." He said as she looked into his warm brown eyes wordlessly and nodded, while she did that, a warm feeling spread all over her body at the closeness of his face and the softness of the tone of his voice and her heart fluttered in her chest.

"Call me if you need anything, but for now, go rest, when you feel better give me a call and no, I didn't forget that meal, we will go grab it when you feel better. Alright?" He asked as she nodded in his palms.

"Good night." He said and smiled at her before letting her go.

"Good night." She managed to croak out as she walked towards her apartment.

She walked in and waved at him and he waved back at her and walked away. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she closed the door and leaned her back against it.

It was ironic how someone who once called her a piece of trash and despised her so much comforted her and said that what she did in the past doesn't define who she is now.

A sudden realization hit her like a truck. How was she so oblivious to it? She wondered.

She never felt comfortable around anyone in her life but in Seojun's arms, it felt as if she belonged there. The way he caressed her calmed her wrecking nerves, it just made her feel safe there and as much as she didn't want to accept it and as much she was afraid of being heartbroken again, she knew at the moment that much to her dismay she developed feelings for someone who will look at her the way a friend does, again.

[sereineityy]

how many more sleepless nights?

genre: nonidol!au, ANGST, slight fluff

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade... or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k 

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

                                                                                    [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home. 

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way. 

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker. 

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near. 

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you? 

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not. 

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone. 

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here. 

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up. 

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do. 

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again. 

“Y/N…” 

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me. 

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him. 

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired. 

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae...”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too. 

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…” 

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I... I was looking for you.” 

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in. 

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out. 

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?” 

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through. 

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second. 

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment. 

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look. 

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.   

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.” 

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                              [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you. 

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I'll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze? 

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time? 

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me. 

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this. 

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers. 

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it? 

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you. 

I’m still in love with you. 

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more. 

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve. 

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end. I promise. 

                                                     ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ 

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[sereineity]

how many more sleepless nights?

genre: nonidol!au, ANGST, slight fluff

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade… or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

[    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home.

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders.

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way.

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker.

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near.

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you?

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not.

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone.

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here.

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up.

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do.

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again.

“Y/N…”

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me.

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him.

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired.

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae…”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too.

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…”

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I… I was looking for you.”

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in.

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out.

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?”

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through.

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second.

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment.

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look.

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.  

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                             [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you.

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze?

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time?

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me.

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this.

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers.

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more.

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve.

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end.

I promise.

                                                    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[splendidlyimperfect]

discord & dragons - chapter 10 [a daring rescue]

**link to ao3 is provided in the comments since tumblr has apparently been shadowbanning anything with links 🙄**

When a magical mishap transforms Natsu, Sting and Rogue, Gray finds himself responsible for a horde of dragons.

Chapter Summary: Gray gets captured by Vengeance Soul, and Freed and the dragons attempt a rescue.  

Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine, Levy McGarden/Gajeel Redfox Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Fairy Tail Dragon Slayers, Magical Accidents, Spells & Enchantments, Transformation, Dragons, Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, kind of, baby dragons are basically kittens, I make the rules here, Fluff and Humor, Cute, like super fucking cute, it’s just dumb and fluffy okay, Nonbinary Character, Freed’s enby, because i say so

-----

Freed tore through the forest, slashing away branches and leaping over logs as they moved deeper and deeper into the underbrush. Rogue and Natsu, who Freed had hastily tucked into their pockets, whined in confusion, and desperately tried to climb out. Sting squirmed in Freed’s grip, kicking at their arms and making soft, distressed sounds that increased in volume the further they got from Gray.

“It’s not safe,” Freed panted, keeping an eye on Laxus, who had barely figured out flying and was hovering awkwardly just ahead. Freed ducked around a large tree as they held Sting tighter against themself, heart pounding as they listened for sounds of being followed.

Laxus moved further away, then turned back to Freed and made a soft trilling sound. Freed could feel a slight tug in their stomach – the same feeling they got when Laxus asked them to trust him in battle. They nodded, kicking several dead branches out of the way as they followed him.

[link to chapter on ao3 in the comments]

Eventually the undergrowth opened into a small clearing, walled in on three sides by high stone walls. Freed exhaled in relief. Holding Sting under one arm, they held their hand out and quickly scribbled some runes into the air, pulling up a barrier that kept them both enclosed and invisible.

“Thank you,” Freed murmured as Laxus fluttered awkwardly down onto their shoulder, rubbing his face against their cheek and making a comforting sound. Sting squirmed out of Freed’s grip and immediately ran for the wall, pawing at it and making distressed sounds. Natsu and Rogue quickly joined him, whining and digging at the ground, then turning back around to look at Freed accusingly.

“I’m sorry,” Freed said, dropping down and leaning back against the stone wall. They ran their hands over their face, trying to catch their breath as their heart pounded in their chest. Sting scampered back over to them and hopped into their lap, standing on his hind legs and pressing his paws to their chest. “I’m sorry,” Freed said again, stroking Sting’s head as he chittered frantically. “We have to—I had to keep you safe. We’re going to rescue him, I promise.”

Natsu growled, headbutting the rune wall and scrabbling at it with his claws. He stood on his back feet, pressing both paws against the wall and staring out into the trees as if it would magically summon Gray.

“It’s okay,” Freed said as their breathing started to return to normal. Laxus made a comforting sound and cuddled closer to them, and Freed reached up to pet him as they continued to run their fingers comfortingly through Sting’s fur. “We can find him,” Freed reassured the dragons, reaching out and beckoning for the other two. Rogue slunk over reluctantly, but Natsu remained at the barrier, making soft whining sounds and pawing at it.

Freed unbuttoned their jacket and dug around in the inside pockets, eventually pulling out their communication lacrima and wiping the screen clean. They swiped their thumb across it to power it up, sighing in relief when they saw that it was still connected.

“Freed?” Levy’s voice came through, muddled by static but clearly there. “Are you all right?”

“Gray’s in trouble,” Freed said, tipping their head back against the wall. “We need to find him. Warren – his magic radar – does it still work? Can he find someone this far away?”

“It should work.” Freed winced at the way the sound warbled, and they were barely able to make out her next words. “I’ll---him, bu--take some t---call you back?”

“Yes,” Freed said, sighing and sending out a desperate plea to the universe. “Yes, I’ll wait for your call.”

~

The sound of people arguing dragged Gray from unconsciousness. He blinked slowly awake, wincing at the throbbing in his temples.

“We need to do it soon,” a voice said. It echoed, as if coming from far away, and Gray shook his head to try and clear his blurry vision and figure out where he was. The ground underneath him was jagged and uncomfortable, and when he pushed himself up, he felt cool rock beneath his fingertips. Gray stumbled to his feet, swaying and steadying himself against the wall. A faint green light shimmered nearby, and it took him a second to realize that it was some sort of moss, bioluminescent and lending a faint green light to the darkness of the room.

“He’ll wake up soon,” another voice said. It was deep and lightly accented, and Gray immediately recognized it as the man who had hunted them down last month – Siedge. A chill ran through Gray and he rubbed at the scar on his wrist.

The first voice sounded closer as it replied, “He should be out for a few more hours – the sleep magic is strong.”

“He’s stronger.”

The voices were now joined by footsteps and the sound of something jingling. Gray’s vision slowly adjusted to the dim light of the room, and he could just make out the shape of a door across from him. He stumbled over and pressed himself to the wall behind it, taking slow, even breaths and trying to push away the nausea that blurred his vision.

“Just bring him to the room,” Siedge said, and then there was the sound of keys in a lock as the door started to swing open. Gray curled his hands into fists, ready to summon his magic, and he was so surprised when it didn’t respond that he was taken aback by someone reaching out and grabbing his arm.

“Lemme… stop it,” he mumbled, bringing his hands up and scrabbling weakly at the person’s grip. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and the place inside him where his magic usually lived was like a void.

“Come with me,” the person said, dragging Gray forward and into the hallway. They were tall and beautiful in a cold, frightening way, and the Vengeance Soul guild mark took up half of their face.

“Where…” Gray tripped over his own feet, nearly falling into the mage.

“I told you.” Siedge’s deep voice was accompanied by a large, terrifyingly familiar man with long blond hair pulled into a braid. He grinned at Gray, showing off sharp teeth. “He’s strong.” He grabbed Gray’s chin, tipping his head up. Gray growled weakly and tried to struggle against the grip, but everything in his body felt like it was being pulled down into the earth.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “You almost killed Sting.”

Siedge laughed. “You escaped me last time, I have to give you credit for that,” he said, letting go of Gray and reaching up to touch the scar on his own neck from Natsu’s flames. “But you don’t have your dragon slayers to save you this time. They’re not quite as ferocious now, are they?” Gray glared at him. “I’ll admit, when Laka here suggested the spell, I didn’t think much of it, but it’s been surprisingly effective. And in your haste to discover its origin, you walked right into my trap.”

Laka tugged Gray backward by his arm and he stumbled after them, nearly tripping and falling to his knees. Whatever they’d used to put him to sleep still made everything hazy – and apparently blocked his access to his magic. The empty feeling in his chest expanded as he tried to awaken it again.

“Don’t bother,” Laka said, shaking their head. “Nobody can lift those runes except me.”

Gray frowned, then looked down at his chest. A mark was etched just over his heart – an unfamiliar rune that looked like it had been burned into his skin. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the magic emanating from it.

The haze and confusion slowly receded as they made their way down a long, dark hallway – Laka in front, pulling Gray along by his bicep, and Siedge following behind. By the time they arrived at their destination, Gray’s head felt clearer and he was strong enough to walk without stumbling.

“Get him set up,” Siedge said, pointing to a chair in the center of the room. Magic bonding runes glowed around the arms and legs and Gray’s heart jumped as Laka shoved him toward it. He pulled weakly away from them, but the little strength that had returned to him wasn’t enough to break their grip on his arm.

“Why?” he asked as Laka shoved him down into the chair. “This is stupid. You can’t just take someone else’s magic.”

“Actually,” Siedge said, moving away from the chair and picking up a book from the desk along one wall, “I can.” The cover of the book shimmered faintly, and it took Gray a minute to realize that it was patterned exactly like the devil slayer marks. The faint hum of fear that had been coursing through him since he woke up solidified and he tugged harder against the restraints.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded, swallowing against the nausea that was starting to rise in his throat. The pattern on the book shifted in a sharp, uncomfortable way that made Gray’s vision blur. It was wrong – deeply, horribly wrong – and he couldn’t breathe.

“Irrelevant,” Siedge said, flipping the book open. A sharp flash of pain spiked through Gray’s temples and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. The ache quickly spread, racing down his nerves until the marks on his arms felt like they were on fire. It hurt worse than any burn Natsu had accidentally given him – the searing pain was bone-deep, eating him up from the inside, clawing its way out of him and taking the magic with it.

“S-stop,” he managed, shuddering and trying desperately to slip his wrists free of the bindings. He couldn’t feel his hands. Someone was talking, and then something touched Gray’s forehead, and he was sure he was going to die, and then—

—then the pain stopped abruptly as something exploded.

Gray gasped as the devil-slaying magic returned to him, searing across his skin and slamming into his chest so hard that he could barely breathe. Siedge stumbled forward, cursing and dropping the book face-down on the stone floor.

“Gray!” Freed’s voice quickly followed the explosion, and Gray looked up to see them standing in the ruins of the wall with runes sketched in the air around them. Their right eye glowed purple, swirling with magic that made Gray’s markings pulse and ache.

“Freed, don’t—”

“I thought you said your barriers were impenetrable!” Siedge growled, whirling around to look at Laka. They were staring at Freed, who glared right back, rapier moving quickly in front of them to create more runes in the air.

“They should be,” Laka said, stepping forward and waving their hand in an attempt to dismiss Freed’s magic. Nothing happened, and before Laka could write any more runes, a burst of lighting sparked through the air and singed off a lock of their hair.

“What the—”

A flash of gold was the only thing Gray saw before Laka shouted in pain and started flailing, trying desperately to remove an angry Laxus, who was clinging to their arm and had his teeth sunk into their neck. Siedge moved to help Laka but was quickly stopped by a burst of fire that raced across the ground and hit him in the shins.

“Natsu,” Gray gasped as the tiny red dragon appeared between Freed’s legs, snarling at Siedge before darting across the floor. He scrambled up onto Gray’s lap and immediately started chittering as he pawed at the magic restraints. “Get out of here,” Gray hissed, tugging at the bonds again. “You’re gonna get hurt.” Natsu growled in disagreement and bit at the magic, hissing when it started to spark.

The ache from earlier still tingled under Gray’s skin, but it was quickly being overwhelmed by a protective fear for the dragons. He could see the other two out of the corner of his eye – a dart of black and a flash of white that came at Siedge from both sides.

“He’s too strong,” Gray said, trying to shift his legs so Natsu would jump down. Natsu glowered at him and clung to him stubbornly, digging in his claws. “Please, I can’t watch any of you get hurt again.”

A cry of pain filled the room as Laka fell to their knees, bleeding heavily from their neck. Laxus scrambled backward, spreading his wings and growling at them as electricity crackled around him. Siedge moved toward him but was blocked by a blast of magic that swirled together in black and white, hitting him in the chest hard enough to knock him onto his back. As soon as he hit the ground, Freed was standing over him, rapier pointed at his throat.

“Don’t,” Freed said as the tip of the sword moved quickly, creating a rune that hung over Siedge’s chest. He snarled at Freed, struggling against the magic that appeared to have paralyzed him. Sting and Rogue, who had been sitting near the door, scampered over to Siedge and growled at him, both of them humming with magic power.

“Are you all right?” Freed asked, glancing over at Gray as Sting clambered onto Siedge’s chest and bared his teeth. Laxus growled at Laka, who was still holding their wounded neck and glaring at Freed.

“Fine,” Gray said, exhaling in relief. “Just...” He nodded down at the bonds around his wrists that Natsu was still attempting to chew through. Freed made a quick gesture and the bindings dissolved, immediately lifting the pressure on Gray’s wrists and ankles. Another flick of Freed’s wrist dismissed the rune on Gray’s chest, and he exhaled in relief as the familiar cool sensation of his ice magic tingled across his skin.

“Thanks.” Natsu made a soft chirping sound and scrambled up onto Gray’s shoulder, rubbing his face against Gray’s cheek and purring happily. “I’m okay,” Gray murmured, kissing the top of Natsu’s head and pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. Frost covered up the devil slayer marks that quickly started to spread across his body, reacting to the heady demonic magic that emanated from Freed.

“You have to stop.” He squeezed his hands into fists as the magic tried to pull him forward, whispering, destroy it, destroy them, destroy the demon. “I can’t control it,” he gasped, trying to step away. Natsu made a concerned sound and nipped at his ear, and Gray tried to focus on that instead of the angry insistence of his magic.

Then Freed’s magic shifted, and their eye returned to its natural blue. The tense pulse of the magic in Gray’s arms quickly disappeared, and he fell to his knees, suddenly exhausted.

“Don’t even think about it,” Freed said, turning their gaze to Laka, who had lifted their hand into the air. Laxus snarled at them and darted forward, teeth bared and ready to pounce. Freed gave Laka one more disdainful look, then drew a quick rune and flicked it toward them. They fell unconscious almost instantly, slumping backward onto the floor. Siedge followed quickly afterward. Sting, who was still sitting on his chest, growled at him once last time, then looked over at Gray.

“C’mere,” Gray said, holding out his arms. Sting immediately darted over, followed closely by Rogue, and they stood on their hind legs, pressing their paws against his chest. Their distressed sounds quickly turned to affectionate purrs as Gray petted them. “I’m okay,” he reassured them, feeling the warm, familiar sense of calm flood through him at their presence. “It’s okay.”

Sting whined and wriggled up onto Gray’s other shoulder, anxiously nuzzling his hair, while Rogue clambered into Gray’s arms and continued purring so hard he was nearly vibrating. Gray sighed in relief, holding the three of them close.

“Thank you,” he said again to Freed, who was holding a smug-looking Laxus, still crackling with electricity. “He was—they were after the magic. Again.” Gray gestured to the book, which was still face-down on the ground where Siedge had dropped it. Looking at the marks on it made Gray feel nauseous again and he quickly looked away.

“I’ll take that,” Freed said. They leaned down and grabbed the book, studying it for a moment before sliding it into their jacket. “I’ll call the Council,” they said, pulling the lacrima out of their pocket. “It’s time to put these two away where they belong.”

[kileyrose-2003]

True Knot x Fem Child! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies! This was requested by @wellhithere2 who Tumblr is being a pain in ass in not letting me tag. If there are grammar and spelling errors in this, I’m sorry. As I just started online classes a few weeks ago.  I hope you enjoy and all you lovely people are doing well in quarantine and again, if anybody needs anything please don't be afraid to reach out. Not to be a sap (but I am) We're all in this together and I want you all to know that I care about all of you and we're going to get through this but anyways, enough of my ranting. Love you all and stay safe :)

For as long as you could remember you always knew you were different from other children. Picking up on social cues that kids your age shouldn’t be able to recognize and having particular talents that weren’t considered normal.

You were born in the early 1900s to a particularly wealthy and religious family. Each of your siblings had a special sort of talent they liked to show off, whether that was singing or sports but your talent was different though. 

You were “special” as your mother liked to call it, though you were sure she never meant it in a good way. You could picking up on the thoughts and feelings of others, as well as manipulate their emotions. You were proud of your gift and wanted to flaunt it but your family didn’t view it that way. To them it was paranormal and a curse and they hated you for it.

You ran away from home at the age of 7 with no plan in particular on where you were going to end up when Crow Daddy found you living on the streets. At first when he tried to approach you resisted. Kicking and punching him because something deep down told you that despite the nice smile he gave, he wasn't the nicest man but all that changed when you heard his voice in your mind.

(I know you can hear me.)

For the first time in a while, your rock hard exterior melted and tears started streaming down your cheeks. He felt so warm and his clothes smelled like the earth.

(I always thought it was-)

(I know. Everyone does.)

The look in his eyes was soft and despite that feeling in your gut, you trusted him. He began to carry you out of the alley way and you gripped onto his shirt tightly. "W-where are we going?" The response was simple but made you feel safe. "Home."

The True Knot took you in, making sure you were well clothed and fed. They never had a child in their tribe before but they accepted you as their own and loved you all the more for how special you were. You weren't a rube to them or just some freak. You were above that.

When Rose originally proposed the idea of turning you, Crow was hesitant. They all were. If grown adults were capable of cycling out during the process, so were you. But Rose insisted. Saying that you had more will and motivation then those who didn't survive the process had.

Though it was long ago, you could remember the night of your turning clearly. The sky was painted a million colors by all the shimmering stars and everything just seemed so right. The world was humming like a power line and you finally found your place. After that everything was a blur though, blended with pain and agony. You almost cycled out but Rose pulled you back. Promising a life of bliss and comfort after that, to which she kept her word.

You loved your family and they loved you just as much if not more, than you loved them. Each of them served a different purpose from Rose acting as your maternal figure to Andi being like your older sister but no matter the role, you adored them.

It was a sunny Saturday morning just outside Florida and you were curled up next to Rose in bed. It was one of the very rare days where all the canisters were full and there was no need to go out and search for other steamheads so the two of you were sleeping in. The warm blankets on Rose’s bed protecting you from the autumn chill outside.

It was around noon when the sun peaked through the window, a thin ray of it shining so brightly on you. You rolled over, expecting to bump into Crow who more often than not was cozied up by the two of you on lazy days such as these but to your surprise he wasn’t there.

You sat up half way and let out a yawn as you looked down at Rose who didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by the bright light. “Rosie..” You shook The True’s leader gently. “Y/n..Y/n, my flower. It’s still early. Go back to sleep.” She pulled you back down next to her, placing a gentle kiss on the top your head as she spooned you close. “it’s not early. It’s twelve.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you didn’t have to look at Rose to know she perked up slightly at hearing what time it was.

“Still, very rarely do I get the time to actually cuddle with you.” Rose ran her hands up your sides, slightly tickling you. “Rosie! Stop it!” You demanded, letting out a giggle. She turned you onto your side, that way you were facing her. “Why? I enjoy seeing you smile.” You blushed slightly and Rose stopped what she was doing, pulling you into a hug. “Good morning, my sweet.”

“Good morning, Rosie.” She kissed your forehead and released you from her grasp. “How long have you been up for?”

“Only a little while. I thought Crow was staying the night." Rose scooted around you and stood up in bed, throwing a shall on. "He did. He must of gotten up. Come on, love. Let's see what the rest of the family is up to." She lifted you up in her arms and carried you outside. The breeze from the fall winds made you shudder and Rose noticed, placing her shall over your shoulders. “Morning ladies.”

“Good morning.” You wrapped your arms tightly around her neck as made her way over by Crow, placing a kiss on his cheek. "How'd you sleep?" He shrugged. "Nothing to complain about. The two of you?"

"Pretty good since we just got up." Rose gently ran her fingers through your hair. "Good." Crow held his arms open to hold you. "Come here, darling." Rose gently set you down on your feet. You felt your toes and the bottoms of your pajamas getting wet but you didn't care, leaning over to hug Crow. "Hi daddy," You mumbled into the fabric of his jeans. "Hi baby." He knelt down to your level, pulling you into a tight hug when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Pulling you away from Crow.

"Barry!" Rose barked. "What, I can't say good morning to the kid?" You giggled as he swung you around. "You can but without pulling her arms out of her socket would be nice." Andi rolled her eyes, swiping you around from him. "Hi, Y/n/n."

"Hi Andi." The snake took her turn holding you before passing you over to Annie and so on and so forth. You barely ever got any all of their attention at once so you enjoyed it.

"What do you want to do today?" You gave a light hearted shrug and giggled. "I don't know!" Diesel Doug chucked and met you at your level. "I have an idea."

"What is it?" As you walked closer he reached forward and gave your shoulder a light tap. "Tag." He ran off in the opposite direction towards the woods and you gasped. "That's not funny!" You gave Annie a light tag and chased after Doug. You could of sworn you heard Rose laugh from the distance but thought nothing of it.

"Uncle Doug! You can't hide from me forever." You spun around, trying to find him using your locator sense when you felt another hand tap on your shoulder. "Tag!"

This time it was Eddie. You could see none of your aunts or uncles in sight and carefully began to wander through the woods, peaking through and around bushes. "You guys. This isn't funny!" You heard the crunching of leaves behind you and tensed up, quickly running to hide behind a tree. You didn't see anything but you felt nervous. You could feel hot breath on the back of your neck and held onto the trunk of the tree tightly.

"Boo!" You let out a scream and spun around to look at Diesel Doug, pouting cutely. "That's not funny." He let out a laugh. "Sorry, little lady. Had enough excitement for one day?" You nodded and he took your tiny hand in his. "Come on, I'll take you home." The two of you walked back to camp together with Annie and Barry eventually finding the two of you among the way and tagging along.

Rose had The Knot's make shift picnic table set up with an array of lunch foods while Crow fiddled around with a projector. "Y/n, my flower. Come eat." She beckoned and you obeyed. Letting the much taller woman scoop you up so you pick out what you wanted.

"Rosie, what do we have that out for?" You gestured to the projector. "We haven't watched a movie together in a while as a family so I figured we should while we have the chance."

"That sounds nice." Rose smiled softly and kissed your cheeks. Sitting down on the blanketed ground with you. "So what classic are we showing the kid this time? Fifty Shades of Grey!"

"Barry!"

"Oww!" You giggled as Andi slapped his arm. "Rosie, what's 50 Shades of Grey?" She looked mad. Not at you but at Barry. "Nothing you need to worry about and no, Casablanca."

"She's seen that movie so many fucking time. Oww!" He yelped again. "And she likes Casablanca so that's what we're watching." Crow shook his head and sat down next to you that way you were in the middle of them, their arms wrapped around you.

The movie was long but it was worth it just to be able to spend time with your family. As it hit the end you found yourself leaning more into Rose and Crow's side, trying to keep awake.

"You getting tired, Y/n?" Rose gently pet your hair and you nodded and let out a slight yawn. "I want to nap..Hold me?" Crow complied to your request without hesitation and rubbed little circles across your back while continuing to play with your hair, making small braids. "I love you both," You muttered softly into his chest. "I love you too. We all love you so much."

The credits on the movie began to roll and Rose scooped you up in her arms. "Rosie?"

"Yes, Y/n?"

"Thank you for everything you've done for me..all of you."

"You're welcome, Y/n..we love you." She kissed your hair, rocking you back and forth. "Love you guys more." You didn't have to be looking at her to know she was smiling. "Sleep well, Y/n.." You fell asleep peacefully in Rose's arms knowing you were at home with your family and that's how it would be forever. Because what is tied can never be untied and they never were letting you go. Ever.

[raibebe]

On the run

Genre: Fluffy smut Words: 3.343 Prompt: My head says no but my heart says ooh yes For @im-a-special-bebe A/N: This somehow got really out of control and is a lot fluffier than I intended, I hope you enjoy it anyways. ❤ Also if this looks weird on some devices, I’m really sorry but tumblr was really not cooperating well with me today...

You had been on the run now for more days than you could count. The first few all a blur of gunshots and running. Lots of running through the woods, a strong hand either pushing you foreward or pulling you with him.

When your father had assigned an officer to protect you at the base, you had laughed thinking it was a joke. But when you realized he wasn’t joking, you became angry. You didn’t need a babysitter and the base was the most secure place in miles. It didn’t help that officer Son - like he had introduced himself with a deep bow - was not only strangely quiet and followed his orders with great precision but also was breathtakingly handsome. He wasn’t as bulky as some of the other soldiers but he had brought shoulders and his legs were filling out the uniform pants quite nicely. Not to speak of those full lips that were meant to be kissed.

When the sirens suddenly got off in the middle of the night, he had wasted no time to first barricade your room to give you time to not only get dressed but to pack a few essential items before he managed to sneak you out of the base and into the surrounding woods.

You had never asked where he was leading you, didn’t care anymore as long as the place had running water and something different to eat then the cans you had been eating whenever officer Son seemed fit.

Right now he was walking in front of you, compass and map in his hands, big rifle strung up on his backpack. He had killed people with that. People who tried to either kill you or him. Probably you. You were the general’s daughter after all. But still it made no sense to you why they were hunting you like crazy persons. They apparently had enough people and weapons to attack a military base and take it over. Why would they keep hunting you?

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t pay enough attention to the narrow path your protector was leading you through and your foot got caught on a rather large root. Screeching you lost your balance and suddenly everything went black.

~

By the time you woke up again, it felt like your head had been split in two. Hissing you opened your eyes slowly and tried to sit up.

“Slowly.” A soft but stern voice told you and a handsome face appeared in your vision. “You tripped and fell down a hill. I’m assuming you have a concussion. You also managed to sprain some ribs and dislocated your shoulder as far as I can tell.” That explained why breathing hurt so bad.

“Are we Safe?” You asked softly, your eyes failing to completely focus on the room you were in. The face disappeared for a while before it was leaning over you again, wiping your face with a wet cloth. “I carried you to a little safe house. It wasn’t far. Can you sit up now?”

Nodding softly, causing your headache to get worse, you tried to push yourself up again. A strong hand was placed between your shoulder blades and officer Son basically pushed you up into a sitting position. “These are painkillers.” He explained, handing over some pills and a bottle of water. “Drink all of this please.”

After he handed both over to you, he disappeared from the room again, leaving you to take in your surroundings. You were perched up on a big mattress that was lying in a rather empty room with bare walls. The only other furniture was a really shabby looking green armchair next to the window and a dark brown wooden cabinet. Swallowing the pills that were supposed to make you feel better, hurt even more than breathing. When you tried to lift yourself up even further you hissed loudly. Your left arm was just dangling by your side, not responding to your commands, the shoulder seemed dislocated indeed.

Probably startled by the noise you had made, officer Son came back into your room. He had taken off his jacket and heavy black army boots, just leaving him in the cameo pants, a white t-shirt with rolled up sleeves - which really extenuated his muscular arms - and his dog tag hanging from a silver chain around his neck. “Can you put it back into place?” you asked him, pointing to your shoulder.

The soldier nodded and sat down next to you. “It’s easier when you lie down on your back.” He instructed you and helped you lie down again. “This is going to hurt a lot.”You nodded and gritted your teeth. “I can take it.” He only snorted and took your forearm into his big hands, softly pulling it away from your body. “Please don’t scream too loud.”

Without any further warning he first pulled your arm really hard and then pushed the joint back into place. Accompanied by the nasty crack of you bones you let out a bloodcurdling scream, loud enough to wake a bear from its hibernation in a five mile radius. Tears were prickling your eyes, the pain in your shoulder and your ribs just too much to bear and your vision went black once again.

 ~

When you woke up again, the room you were still in was dark except for the moon shining its silver light onto officer Son’s beautiful body. He had taken off his shirt and pants and was sleeping in the shabby armchair. Someone should be painting this. His facial features were relaxed, plump lips slightly ajar, strong chest moving with the rhythm of his breathing. He was breath-taking.

You had never asked for his first name, thinking it would stop you from feeling a certain way for him which was definitely not professional in any way. But you had heard his comrades call him Shownu which was probably a nickname but it somehow really fit him.

A loud growl originating from your stomach broke your shameless staring. Embarrassed you curled your arms around your midsection, which caused you to wince in pain because your ribs were still hurting.

“You should eat something and let me have a look at that.” A raspy voice cut through the silence. Officer Son had woken up and was stretching his long body. It took all your willpower to not make your jaw drop. The moonlight casted shadows in the dips of his muscular body, making his abs stand out even more. Swallowing dry, you nodded absently.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be canned food again.” He announced when he got up and put his shirt back on. Groaning in frustration - whether it was about the horrible food or him covering up, you weren’t sure – you carefully rose from the bed followed him into the room next door which turned out to be the kitchen – if you could call it that. It was basically a really old looking gas stove, a sink and a couple of cupboards. In the corner was a small table with two chairs that seemed rather unstable. But because of the lack of proper seating choices you sat down anyways.

“I’ve never asked for your name.” You tried to start a conversation because the silence made you anxious. “Everyone just calls me Shownu”, officer Son responded, not turning around from the stove. “But that’s not your real name, is it?” He let out a deep sigh as if it was a burden to actually tell you. “It’s Hyunwoo, but no one calls me that. So if you are uncomfortable with calling me officer Son, just use Shownu, please.”

With that he handed you the can he had been heating up together with a fork. You ate in silence, Shownu’s eyes constantly on you as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your food so he had to safe you yet again. When you were done, he wordlessly took the can and disposed of it.

“Could you take off your clothes so I can take a check you for further injuries?” Shownu asked without looking in your face, slight blush colouring his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed dry, a similar blush creeping up your neck.

“Turn around.” This was stupid. He was going to see you almost naked anyways, not saying anything, he turned to face the door to the room you slept in. Cautiously you pulled your sweater over your head, hissing from the pain that shot not only through your ribs but also your shoulder. “Shit”, you cursed when you saw the dark purple bruise that covered almost your entire left torso, you must have fallen hard. “How hard did I fall?” you asked while shrugging out of your pants as well and putting both items carefully on the table.

“You fell down a small portion of the hill until you were stopped by a rock” Shownu answered matter-of-factly. “Can I turn around?” “Yes” you gave your permission, but still put your arms around you in an attempt to hide yourself.

When Shownu turned around, he first furrowed his eyebrows before his lips formed a smirk. “I can’t check you like that” he stated when he came closer to you. Taking a deep breath you uncurled yourself.

His touches were light as a feather ghosting around the huge bruise and left an almost burning sensation that you were sure wasn’t because of the injury. “Tell me when I hurt you”, the soldier whispered almost, his breath tickling your naked skin and giving you goose bumps. Now checking every rib for fractures, his touch got more intense the closer he got to your still covered breasts. Your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart was continuously beating faster and faster as soon as he touched your upper ribs, fingers just barely grazing the flesh of your boobs.

“As far as I can tell nothing is broken but I can’t quite touch your upper ribs” Shownu confessed when he retreated his fingers. “Sh-Should I take my bra off?” you asked shyly, not meeting his gaze. “I would like to be sure that you are not injured”, he said calmly, “but you don’t have to, if it’s too uncomfortable for you.”

Wanting him to touch you further, to keep heating the fire burning inside of you, you turned your back to him. “Open it.” You whispered, not trusting your voice.

For a while no one was moving. Letting out a deep breath, Shownu suddenly closed the distance between you two and opened clasp of your bra, the garment falling to the ground the only sound in the room. Gently he began touching you, starting a couple of ribs below your breasts, still standing behind you, his warmth was traveling through his shirt onto your skin.

When he reached the flesh of your breast, you held in your breath. You hadn’t been touched like that since you had been ordered to life on the base for your own safety. A whine made its way up your throat and past your lips when his fingers were pressing down harder to feel your ribs. His fingers were stopping their movements for a while before continuing their work. The longer he as touching you, the harder it became to supress the lewd noises you were making and the hotter it seemed to get in the room and between your legs.

Clearing his throat Shownu stilled his fingers. “I don’t think anything is broken.” With that he retreated from you and took a step back.

Already missing his heat and his touch you turned around to face him, not covering yourself this time and looking directly into his eyes. “Are you sure?” You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed, his eyes getting darker and his gaze switching between your face and your exposed chest. “Do…Do you want me to check further?” he asked breathless.

Nodding you stepped towards him, closing the distance and pressing yourself flush against his chest. “You know, Shownu, it hurts a bit right here.” You whispered against his lips before placing both his hands on your chest and moaning softly at the sensation of his rough hands against your sensible nipples. Swallowing again, Shownu softly massaged your breasts and rolled one of your stiff nipples between his fingers which made you moan loudly and throw your head back. Wasting no time Shownu attached his lips to the exposed skin of your neck and sucked harsh before kissing his way up your jaw before he connected your lips in a fiery kiss. Sighing into the kiss, your hands found their way into his messy dark brown locks, pushing him closer to you whilst deepening the kiss. When his hands started roaming your body, it felt like he was setting you on fire with each caress of his fingers. “Hold onto me” he said breathless when he broke the heated kiss for not more than necessary before grabbing your behind and lifting you off the ground. Shrieking you wrapped your legs around him, now feeling his arousal through his boxers touching your ass. 

  Shownu softly lied you down onto the mattress in the room next door as if you were made out of glass, careful not to hurt your ribs further and ripped his shirt over his head. Pulling him down with your hands around his neck, you caught his sinful lips in another heated kiss. When he deepened the kiss further, your tongues dancing and exploring each other, you hooked your legs around him and pushed him even closer. Gasping you broke the kiss when his boxer clad hard-on was brushing against your hot core. “I want you.” You whispered into his ear before you raked your nails down his muscular back, making a moan escape his swollen lips. “I don’t want to hurt you further.” He voiced his concerns but rolled his hips down again, wanting to feel the sweet friction again. “But you want this too.” You pouted, pulling him flush against your almost naked body. “My head says no but my heart says ooh yes.” His last words were drowned in a drawn out moan when his clothed dick was sliding along your wet folds. Rolling your hips upwards again, you asked: “And what does your cock say?” That made him growl deep in his chest and attack your neck with kisses and bites, leaving angry red marks. Slowly he made his way down your body, teeth and tongue playing with your erect nipples before kissing down even further. Reaching your soaked panties, he took the cotton between his teeth and pulled them down. You gasped when the cold air of the night tickled against your hot core.

“Are you sure about this?” Shownu asked again, now kneeling above you. “My head and my heart both say yes” you mimicked his words and made grabby hands towards him, needing him close. He smiled fondly at you not moving from his position. You groaned in frustration, your hand reaching down in between your own legs. If he wasn’t going to touch you, you would do it yourself, sighing softly as your fingers slowly began to circle your clit. A curse left Shownu’s lips, his eyes focused on you shamelessly spreading yourself for him, one of his hands coming down to palm himself through his tight boxers. When you slid one of your fingers into you, both of you let out a deep moan. Slowly pushing the digit in and out more lewd sounds fell from your lips and your eyes fluttered shut when you added a second finger, moving them faster and faster when you felt your orgasm building. “Shownu” his name not more than a sweet whimper. “I need you” you added, desperate because your fingers just weren’t enough to make you fall over the edge.

When you pulled your fingers out, dragging them lazily over your clit and opened your eyes again you were met with a sight that made you even more aroused if that was even possible: Shownu was sitting on front of you, fist tightly curled around his erect cock and his wide blown eyes fixated on you. After dragging his fist up his dick one last time, he quickly sat up and positioned himself between your legs, teasing your wetness with the flush tip of his length. Hooking your legs around him again you pulled him close, letting out a needy whine.

Finally he slowly entered you inch by delicious inch, stretching your walls and giving you that wonderful feeling of fullness. When your hips where flush with his, he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “If you don’t start moving now, I’m gonna go mad, Shownu”, you hissed, wiggling your hips to get at least some kind of friction. Chuckling he captured your lips again in a deep kiss and finally started moving his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Breaking the kiss with the need of oxygen you gasped loud and arched your back off the bed, wanting to be even closer to Shownu, to melt into his heat, forgetting your injured ribs. The pain shot through you like lightning and made you whimper. “Let me do the work baby, just relax”, Shownu whispered in your ear before gently kissing your temple. “Then move faster, please” you begged him, raking your nails down his broad back. “I was so close.” Kissing you softly he promised: “You wish is my command, darling.”

Suiting the action to the word, he let his hips snap forward more forcefully, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room accompanied by a symphony of lewd sound falling from both of your lips when they weren’t slotted together in a messy swirl of tongues and teeth.

Feeling your orgasm creeping up on you again, begs for Shownu to bring you your sweet release started mixing in with moans that were getting louder and louder. His touch too much but not enough, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. Parting from your lips, he moved to sit up and threw your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs for leverage and began slamming his length into you even more forcefully than before, hitting your sweet spot every time. Every coherent thought was wiped from your mind, Shownu reducing you to a moaning and sobbing mess. Releasing his bruising grip on one of your legs, he quickly licked his fingers before circling them fast around your clit. Screaming and lifting your hips off the mattress you were hit by your orgasm. White dots were swimming in your vision and your whole body began to shake and tighten up.

Shownu suddenly let your legs fall off his shoulders and jerked himself fast before spilling his release all over your torso, painting you white.

For a while the ragged breaths you both let out were the only sound filling the room, trying to collect yourselves and calm down from your highs.

“I should clean you up”, Shownu broke the silence, getting off the mattress and leaving the room. Returning soon with a cloth he cleaned his release off of you, still naked. Blushing you covered yourself with the thin blanket. Awkward silence began spreading between the two of you, just staring at each other. Clearing your throat you lifted the edge of the blanket and scooted over a little to make space for Shownu’s big body. Smiling so brightly, his eyes were turning into little crescents, he quickly climbed behind you and embraced you in his big, strong arms.

In this moment, just before you fell asleep, everything was alright: No thoughts were wasted on the fact that you were still on the run and that you had no idea where to go or what had happened to the rest of the people on the base. You were just surrounded by Shownu’s warmth and his comforting smell. 

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (Ch. 17)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature 

A/N: Happy Saturday! I hope you’re all having a great weekend! Maybe make someone’s day and do a kind gesture, whether that’s sending a kind messages or cleaning up the dishes after dinner :D

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64

“Oh my God,” she giggles, absolutely despising the sound that’s coming out of her mouth with every harsh rub of her calf and massage of her foot. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…I have weirdly sensitive feet.” “And this is exactly why I never take you out to do this,” Ruby sighs in the chair next to her while they get their feet massaged and their toes painted.

“Hey, at least I’m not making sex noises like Marg over there.”

“I am nearly eight months pregnant,” Mary Margaret protests, cradling her stomach with her hands while letting out the slightest moan as her foot is massaged. “I have swollen feet that hurt. This is like bliss.” “That’s what a lot of people say about sex.”

“Damn right,” Ruby agrees, making all of their technicians laugh. When she thinks about it too much, having people work on her feet while she has weird conversations with her friends is, well, weird, but it does feel so good after she gets used to her entire body tingling with the touches.

But one of Mary Margaret’s students gave her a gift card before they let out for summer break at the end of May, and she insisted on taking Emma and Ruby out after they finished with work since she still hadn’t used the card. Ruby hasn’t wanted to go a lot of places since she and Victor broke up, usually liking going to work and then simply going home, but she and Mary Margaret have made a conscious effort to make sure that Ruby gets out. Ruby has absolutely known what they’re doing, and while at first she would get kind of pissed at them, as the weeks have passed, she’s gotten back to being herself.

It probably helps that they let her have an entire night to bash Victor and the fact that he had stopped making time for Ruby, picking up extra unnecessary shifts just so that he didn’t have to come home, and spending more time with his coworkers than Ruby to the point where they basically weren’t seeing each other at all. It was an asshole move, and while she’s never been Vic’s greatest fan, she was such a big fan of how good they were for each other.

Until they weren’t.

If he’s going to be an asshole and not put an effort into the relationship then Ruby deserves so much better. She just does.

Emma hates that she hasn’t been around to help as much as she should have. She really does. Ruby didn’t tell her that they were having issues, didn’t talk about it at lunch, didn’t call and ask to hang out on the weekends when Emma was in town, and the guilt nags at her for not being the best friend for Ruby. She doesn’t abandon people, not when they’ve been so good to her for all of these years, and even though she knows Ruby would tell her that it’s not necessary, she kind of feels like she’s trying to make up for lost time.

Ruby and Mary Margaret have been there for her for the past decade, and she will always be there for them. No question.

Even if that means dying a little inside while getting her toes painted.

“So does our new little friend have a name yet?” she asks to change the subject while pulling her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head, sure that there’s some weird loops in there since she didn’t use a mirror. “Or are you guys keeping that a secret again?”

“I’m kind of leaning toward Brody,” Mary Margaret tells her, which is not what she was expecting. She was fully expecting to have to wait until the kid was born to know his name. “David likes George, but I don’t know…that just seems – ”

“Like it’s only cute for babies or old men?”

“Exactly. It’s like you have to think of names that work for when they’re babies, when they’re old, and when they’re middle aged. Like, no one wants to walk around talking to a fifty-year-old woman named Bunny.”

“Okay, but Bunny doesn’t work. Ever.”

“It does if you’re a stripper. You could wear a little cotton ball on your – ”

“Rubes,” she laughs, sticking her hand over to Ruby’s seat and squeezing around her palm, “there are some things that should just never be said out loud.”

She shrugs, the brightest smile on her face that makes Emma’s lips tug up in the corners until she’s smiling as well. She’s happy. That’s all Emma wants for Ruby. “I’m just saying. It’d be a great little get up. I bet you could do, like, specials for the spring time and make a lot of extra money.”

“Anyways,” Mary Margaret says as the blush rises on her cheeks, “so I’m thinking Brody William Nolan. It’s solid, not too weird, and I don’t think it’ll make anybody make fun of him when he gets older.”

“That’s the most important thing. Kids are cruel.”

“They make fun of you but in an accurate away.”

“Amen.”

Walking out of the nail salon in those awful flip flips, the three of them make their way down the sidewalk of the shopping center, real shoes in their hands, and let the warm mid-July sun beat down on them as they make their way to the café that’s down the street. It’s already pretty crowded, the dinner rush filling the tables, and she lets Mary Margaret and Ruby settle down at a table outside while she goes in and get their orders, grabbing the buzzer that always scares the crap out of her when it loudly goes off on the table.

Every. Damn. Time.

If their paninis weren’t so good, she’d really question her choices of coming here so often. They all practically inhale their food, even going back inside to get dessert for Mary Margaret, and with the sun setting over all of the surrounding buildings, the sky a blurred swirl of deep orange and light blue, she revels in how good of a time that this has been. If it wasn’t so damn expensive to eat out all of the time, they’d definitely do this more often instead of sitting at one of their apartments or at the Nolans’ house.

Or sadly eating cereal alone in her apartment.

And she is getting better at cooking, she swears. She’s been making the effort to eat out less and cook more. She bought a cook book and everything once she finished learning to make all of the recipes Killian left for her.

Her life is going in directions she never thought it would, and her buying cook books is definitely just one of those things even if it’s normal to literally everyone else.

Her grilled cheese recipe has really improved.

It’s a nice summer evening though, one of those where you really just want to be at a baseball game eating junk food with your feet propped up on the seat in front of you while you get horrible tan lines from your shoes and your shorts. She thinks she’s gone to more games in the past few months than she has in her entire life, but then again, so has all of Boston because they just won the World Series last year.

That had been a good time.

This is nice even if it’s not a game, maybe even better than the game, and by the time she loads up in her car to go home, she can feel a slight heat on her cheeks despite the sunscreen that’s built into her foundation.

After she’s showered, washing off the sweat and the day, she changes into her pajamas and settles down onto her couch with her laptop ready to spend the next few hours mindlessly scrolling through Twitter and Pinterest, doing anything to just not have to think for the rest of the evening. Sometimes she just needs to be able to decompress, to let herself relax and rest so she can finish out the last two days of the week.

The air conditioner had broken in her office today, and she thought she was absolutely going to die from sweat. It was awful. Absolutely awful.

She never would have made it before air conditioning.

A message pops up on her computer screen, Killian’s name scrolling across the top, and she clicks on it. It’s a picture of him staring intently into the screen followed by one of him with a goofy grin on his face next to his name on a door. He’s doing the press junket for Highland Waters right now. He’d spent last week in LA doing all of the talk shows that are based out there, and he’s just flown to New York to do more press on this coast. Yesterday there’d been a question asked about her on James Cordon (the late late late show, maybe? How many lates are in the name? All she can think of right now is Carpool Karaoke and how she would never be able to focus with Paul McCartney in the passenger seat), which was weird enough as it is, but it was weirder that Killian was almost communicating with her through the television screen since they hadn’t had much time to talk. “So how does your girlfriend feel about the love scenes you have in this show?” “Who says that one,” Killian begins, his jaw ticking in the way that she knows that it does when he’s trying to keep a straight face when irritated, “I have a girlfriend, and two, that I have love scenes in the show? This is all classified information.” “Oh come on, mate. As one handsome British man to another, we both know that the ladies love us.” “I believe it’s the accent.” “I believe it’s our smoking bodies.” Killian chuckles at the bad joke, and she can tell it’s genuine even if it’s a bit awkward. The joke was a bit awkward. “But seriously. I’ve been told I can’t let you off this stage unless you talk about your girlfriend, these sex scenes, or if you sing acapella while hopping on one foot.” “Well okay then,” Killian begins, standing up and jumping on one foot while the audience cheers and she laughs until he sits back down on the couch with a smile on his face. “Yes, there are some intimate scenes in the show.” The crowd wolf whistles, and she can practically feel how hot Killian’s face is through the screen. She can definitely see how red the tips of his ears are, especially since he just got his hair trimmed again. “And while I’m sure my girlfriend doesn’t love them, she understands that this is simply my job. She’s my real life.”

She shakes her head back and forth, wishing that she could talk to him through the screen even though she knows that this was filmed hours ago. God, he’s ridiculous, but he makes a good point. She’s not exactly thrilled about some of the scenes she’s seen previews to, but he’s acting. That’s all. It’s not real. “Aww, look at that, he’s a romantic in real life too.” The crowd really does “aw” and she wonders how the hell Killian does this without melting into the couch out of embarrassment. She hasn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and while she absolutely misses him like something mad, this is weirdly helping. “So if I can prod you a little more about your life…I know you’re pretty private, but we asked Twitter to send us some questions for you and we picked out our favorites.” “Oh boy,” Killian laughs, bouncing on the couch and scratching behind his ear. “Hit me with your best shot, James.” “@Solangeisanorange wants to know if the hair on your face is incapable of being shaved off or if you have it insured for millions of dollars?” “Is that even possible? Can I do that? Because I will. It seems like an easy way to make some money, and then I’d never have to work again. But no, the hair on my face can be shaved off. I clean it up every few days, but I won’t shave it off. I like it this way.” “What about one of those long beards? Ever thought about one of those?” “God, no. Can you imagine the maintenance?” Killian laughs, reaching down and taking a sip of the water in his mug. “And I’m far too much of a neat freak for that.” “Hear that, ladies,” James begins, “he’s a freak.” Killian waggles his eyebrows before James speaks again. “Okay, so @Superior_woman has a question that says: Will you marry me?” “Only if you buy me a bloody fantastic engagement ring.”

“So it’s all about the jewels?”

“Family and otherwise, aye.”

“Oh my God,” she groans to herself, covering her face with her hands and peeking through her fingers. “That was so bad.”

“Alright, alright, alright then. Well, we’ll do two more. Honestly, Twitter, I know it was short notice, but you’ve really got to get more creative in your questions. You can ask Killian Jones anything you want, and you’re asking him if he has any nicknames. Come on, @HannahBG. You should know better.”

“It’s a valid question,” Killian answers, most likely relieved that he can answer something normal. “Um, well, I don’t really think so. My girlfriend calls me KJ and arsehole a lot. Those two are pretty interchangeable in her eyes.” The entire room laughs while she mutters “asshole” under her breath. Oh shit. She really does do that. “But I think KJ is probably about it. My nephew does call me something that resembles Killy, though, but I think that’s simply because he can’t say my name. He’s only got a few words down.”

“So I have to ask, and this isn’t for myself, I promise. It really is for the audience. How did you meet this girlfriend of yours? Because lack of creativity in nicknames aside, she sounds great. And I’ve heard it’s quite an interesting story.”

“Ahh,” Killian sighs, clicking his tongue, “so I think it’s pretty public how we met. She actually…she lost a bet with her best friend who really likes to mess with her. So the friend made Emma record a video asking me on a date to a charity gala for her work with The Children’s Shelter, which is a really great organization that I love to support. But we hit it off, I guess, on the first night, and while we didn’t immediately get together, she doesn’t have to ask me out through Youtube anymore.”

“So you’re saying that all anyone has to do to go on a date with you is ask you out on Youtube?”

“No. That’s all she had to do. No one else gets to ask me out on dates through the internet. I’m not doing that anymore.”

She scrolls back up to look at the pictures he just sent, noticing the way he needs to button down his collar but figuring he undid that after he filmed Fallon this afternoon.

Emma: Hot stuff right there. Hope you’re having fun!

She goes back to scrolling through Pinterest, getting into a deep rabbit hole of how to do a double dutch braid and absolutely failing time and time again until she gives up and twists her hair into a regular braid that falls over her shoulders.

Damn, her arms hurt after having them lifted in the air for that long. Is that pathetic?

Killian: I am, love. Exhausted. Isabelle and I are going to be on GMA tomorrow and then do a few others together. Then Friday I’m back to doing solo interviews.

Killian: There’s a lot of fake smiling.

Killian: I think my mouth may be stuck this way.

Emma: Well, I have absolutely no use for you if you can’t use your mouth.

Killian: Rude and totally untrue.

Killian: I’m about to go to bed. Can I call you during your lunch break tomorrow?

Emma: Sure. No guarantees that I’ll answer, though.

Killian: Love you, Swan. xx

Emma: Love you too. xx

She was completely joking when she said there were no guarantees she would answer. She fully intended to answer, to talk to him, but she missed his call. And then he missed hers. And it was like a revolving door of calls.

Phone tag. That’s the name for it. It’s phone tag. They’re playing phone tag.

And it’s definitely not the first time they’ve done it. It happens a lot. He calls, and she doesn’t answer. She calls, and he doesn’t answer. Her voicemail gets filled with messages full of the same kind of “I’m sorry I missed you. Call me when you can, love” messages nearly every time. She’s never been in a long-distance relationship, never been in a relationship this committed on both sides, and she doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she doesn’t think it was this.

Mostly, she thinks that they do a good job, that they do make time for each other. She knows that she gets to see Killian a lot more often most people in her situation do simply because he doesn’t work a normal job and has the means to fly to her pretty often. The tickets aren’t exactly cheap, at least for her, and despite her not really wanting to, she has let him pay for her last few simply so that he’s not spending all of his time in Boston.

They miss so much of each other’s lives, of their families’ lives, and it’s so damn hard that she just wants to cry sometimes.

She does cry. A lot. Like, probably more than she ever has before. And while she still sometimes struggles with showing emotions, with having emotions, she knows that crying doesn’t make her weak, that being vulnerable isn’t a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thing, and she cries because she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable to someone else, allowed herself to want to be vulnerable to someone else, and sometimes she just fucking misses him.

Like right now.

She misses him a lot right now and wishes that he could be finished in New York and be on his way here today instead of on Saturday.

But he can’t. He has to work, she has to work, and after not seeing each other for several weeks, she’s honestly just glad that he’s going to be here at all.

It’s a vicious cycle, but they’re handling it. They’re handling it because they have to. They’re handling it because they want to.

She just wishes she didn’t have to miss so many things.

The rest of her day inches by slowly despite how busy it is, another quarter ending next week meaning that she’s got to start prepping the financials for the donations so they can be renewed. It’s always hell, and someone from accounting should really do it, but she’s always the one who does it for some reason. It’s honestly a miracle they haven’t been audited simply because she knows that she screws up a lot.

Hopefully accounting does review her documents after she turns them in.

She skips the gym, calling Killian instead, and by some miracle, he actually answers, even if it’s only for a few minutes before he has to run off to dinner with Isabelle and Robin. It’s nice, though, just to get to talk to him for a little while, and she’s not going to complain when she’ll see him in just over a day.

Just one more day.

-/-

“Bloody fuck,” Killian mutters as her front door opens and he stumbles inside, shaking out his foot and rolling his suitcase behind him. He looks up at her and grimaces, though she thinks it might honestly be an attempt at a smile. “Hello, darling. I promise I’m excited to see you, but I’ve stubbed my toe and it hurts like hell.”

“The great Killian Jones,” she monotones, rolling her eyes and getting up from the couch to close the door behind him, her heart beating wildly in her chest simply because he’s here, “is brought down by what I assume were the front steps outside.”

“You assume right,” he grits, reaching down and pulling off his sneaker before massaging his toe.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she sighs, standing in front of him and pushing his hat off of his head so that she can glide her lips over his and feel the soft warmth that she’s been craving for so long. “That happens every now and then, and it hurts every time. I don’t know why, but it does.”

“Believe it or not, but I think I’ll survive.” He places his hands on her hips and tugs her closer so that she has to tighten her arms around his neck. “Hi, Swan. I am so glad to be back here.”

Her breath hitches, the intensity of his gaze taking her back a bit, but she adjusts, letting her lips form a smile. Why wouldn’t she? She’s so damn happy that he’s here. “I’m glad you’re here too. It’s not quite the same watching you fumble in interviews.” She can feel the gentle slap on her hip, and it makes her chuckle under her breath almost as much as the way Killian’s staring at her with his lips parted, offense clear in his features. “I absolutely aced those interviews. Probably my best set of promotions yet.”

“You had a pie thrown in your face on Thursday because Isabelle knew more about your character than you did.”

“I didn’t remember his father’s name, which isn’t my fault because that’s honestly more in Isabelle’s script than mine, and it’s been a long time since I even filmed the brief scene where he was mentioned.”

“Mhm, sure. But you did do a great job describing Ezra’s journey without giving too much away. I was impressed by that.”

He dips his head and quickly captures her lips again, and she loses all of the breath in her lungs from the way it surprises her. She should have been expecting that, but she wasn’t. He’s got to stop literally taking her breath away because she’ll suffocate. And that won’t be romantic.

“I’ve gotten very good at not telling the truth without actually lying.”

“I feel like that is the absolute last thing that you want to be saying to your girlfriend.”

“Probably, but according to the last two weeks of my life, I’m very swoon-worthy. I can get away with things like that.

“Yeah, that’s definitely not how that works.”

She presses up on her toes again, capturing his lips with hers and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He tastes like that mint tea that he likes and she hates because of the weird smell, but she can’t say that she minds the taste right now, especially with the way his tongue moves over hers in a warm slide that makes her spine tingle more than the pedicure did the other day.

Making out with her boyfriend is obviously much better than getting a pedicure.

“So, like,” she giggles, a smile breaking out across her face while Killian continues to chase her lips, “you know, I just did laundry this morning. I washed my sheets and everything, so they’re really soft. I even bought some new pillow covers the other day.”

“This is quite the roundabout way to ask me to fuck you.”

“Who said anything about that? I just want you to see my new pillow covers.”

-/-

The world hazily comes back to her as she wakes up, the only light stemming from the brightness of Killian’s laptop as his fingers tap away, the keys clicking with each movement.

“What are you doing?” she mumbles, rubbing her fists into her eyes and flopping over onto her stomach so she can wrap her arms around her pillow and nuzzle into it more. “More importantly, why the hell are you awake this early?”

“Woke up to use the restroom and couldn’t go back to sleep. I figured I’d pay some bills and answer some emails. I’m reading through a few scripts.”

She props herself up on her elbows and reaches over to grab Killian’s wrist, looking at his watch that he didn’t take off last night and being shocked that it’s not even two in the morning until she remembers that Killian is three hours behind. Still, waking up before five on a Monday morning is not exactly what she would call pleasant.

“Babe, go back to sleep.”

“Not tired,” he mutters, still typing away. “But you should go back to sleep, love. You have work in a few hours.”

“Turn off the laptop, and I will.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

It’s not a few more minutes. It’s for the next hour, and she eventually gets up and goes into her bathroom, taking a cold shower even though she absolutely hates the way the water feels on her skin. She’s tired, though, wishes that she could have gone back to sleep, but she couldn’t. And she can’t get any of that time back no matter how much she wants to.

Work today is going to be a hell.

By the time she leaves the bathroom, her makeup applied and hair dried, the sun is peeking through her windows and Killian is nowhere to be seen, his laptop closed and resting in the middle of the mattress. She can’t help but shake her head. She’s honestly a little pissed at him, even if she has no real reason to be, but she’s tired and irritated and Killian may get some of the blame for that for the way his typing made enough noise to wake her up and keep her up.

She needs coffee. She just needs some kind of caffeine and maybe to take a nap on the couch in Ruby’s office. That sounds like the dream.

She quickly grabs a dress out of her closet, throwing it on and letting the skirt hit just above her knees before she finds the sandals that match. They’re practically falling apart, the straps buckling, and she really needs to get some new shoes.

These were good shoes.

She buckles them and walks out of her bedroom only to immediately smell coffee. God bless Killian Jones because he may have pissed her off this morning by inadvertently waking her up, but at least he’s smart enough to make her coffee.

“Figured you might need this,” he tells her as he hands her swan mug. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I was just going to eat cereal.” She shrugs, taking a long sip of her coffee and sighing a bit even though she knows the caffeine will take awhile to kick in. “And you’re probably so tired that you are a liability when it comes to the stove anyways.” “I can make you an omelet, Swan. I’m not going to burn your apartment down.” “I don’t care. Just make what you want.” She waves her hand at him goes back to drinking her coffee and opening up her phone to check any of the messages she missed throughout the night. There’s not really anything, but she’s honestly just trying to wake up.

Killian slides her a plate with an omelet on it, nudging it in front of her phone, and she puts it down before looking up at him. How much time passed without her even realizing it?

“Thank you. It smells good.”

“No problem.” He takes a bite of his own, wiggling his fork around before popping it in his mouth. “I’m sorry that I woke you up. I should have gone in the living room, but you’re such a deep sleeper…I didn’t even think about it.”

“Killian,” she sighs, sitting up in her stool as she cuts up some of her food, “it’s fine. Yeah, I’m tired, and yeah, I wish I hadn’t woken up when I did. But honestly, it’s not a big deal. I sleep through the cars blaring their horns outside, so it’s weird that your typing woke me up. Why do you have so much stuff to do anyways?”

“I’ve basically worked for two weeks and spent the past two days with you. I haven’t had the time. Figured I’d get it all out of the way. I was reading this bloody brilliant script, though. It’s, well, it’s about this man who’s lost his wife and is going through the grieving process while also raising his young son. I don’t know, love. It’s just…I know it’s been done before, but this one is different.” “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Brilliant, I tell you. They’re filming next spring if they get all of the contracts and such down. I obviously don’t have the role, but I need to set up a meeting with the producers.” “That’s fantastic,” she promises him, taking another bite of her food. “I bet you’ll get it, especially if they’re already interested in you.” “I mean,” he starts, reaching up and scratching behind his ear while his tongue clicks, “maybe. I hope so.”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she has to. “Do you know where they’re filming?”

“Canada, I believe. Rob didn’t have the city or anything, but I think that’s where it’s projected.”

She lets out a little sigh of relief, holding her mug up above her lips so that she doesn’t look too relieved. She feels selfish wanting to keep him here when she could never ask him to give up his job for her. He’s already done it once, and as much as that made her heart swell, made something inside of her twist at realizing just how much he loves her, she can’t let him do it again. She just can’t. He’s already so excited for this role, and all she wants is for him to get it.

They can figure out them when the time comes.

Maybe she can go to Canada. She’s always wanted to go.

“Let me know when your audition meeting thing is. I can run lines with you.” “Love, you were absolutely horrendous the one time we tried that.” “Hey,” she protests, sticking her fork up at him as she chews on her eggs, “I was okay. Obviously acting is not my calling.”

He winks. “Maybe with a bit of practice, my love. Are we still on for lunch at your office?”

“Yep. But you’ve got to bring something since I probably have to work and talk. It’s like a mad dash for the next week.” “I believe I can do that.” “Bring coffee too.” “Obviously.”

Her head is heavy throughout the rest of her morning, the caffeine only helping to keep her functioning. She didn’t even lose that much sleep, but two hours can make such a difference when she didn’t get a lot of rest this weekend. Plus, it’s Monday, and sometimes they just suck, especially if you have a really good weekend.

She had a good weekend. She and Killian literally just stayed in her apartment and did nothing. Usually they like to go out and do something, but hoarding themselves away just…it’s what worked for them this time. Besides, he’s going to be here for a few more days. They have time to do whatever they want. It’s a nice luxury that they don’t always get, the weekend trips still continuing to be nothing but a tease, so it’s a nice thing to have a little more time than a jet lagged Saturday.

“What’s up, little bird?” Ruby asks as she steps into Emma’s office, sitting down in one of her chairs before kicking her heels off.

“Little bird? That’s a new one.”

“I was just texting Marg and called her little mama. Figured you needed to be called something different than little mama unless there’s something going on over there that you haven’t told me about. And if there is, I’m going to take away the coffee you were chugging away on this morning.”

She’s glad she just saved her file because she definitely just slammed down on her keyboard. “God no,” she sputters, heat rising in her cheeks that she just can’t stop, “that is not happening right now.” “What’s not happening, Swan?”

She looks up to see Killian standing in her doorway, takeout bags in hand, and a part of her really does wonder if sometimes she’s living in a movie or something with the timing that sometimes happens. Looking down at her computer, though, she does see that it’s exactly one, and she shouldn’t be surprised that Killian is on time.

Exactly on time.

“You haven’t knocked her up.”

“Rubes,” she groans, rolling her head back so that all of her hair falls off of her shoulders and down her back, “sometimes a filter is a good thing.” “I am simply commenting on the fact that you guys use safe sex practices, and I applaud you for them.”

“Ah, I feel like I’ve walked in on a rather odd conversation here.”

“It’s nothing, KJ.” She tries to calm the heat that’s still in her cheeks as she rolls her chair over to the other side of her desk. “Ruby is just being Ruby. I think she’s been cooped away in her office for too long. What’d you bring for lunch?”

“Coffee, as you requested, milady, and then I figured I’d indulge you and give you your favorite greasy foods as an extra apology for this morning.”

“Ooooh,” Ruby hums, “what happened this morning?”

“Well, you see,” she begins, trying to figure out the best way to mess with Ruby, “our sex was so rough this morning that it required more than just a condom as protection. There was also a helmet involved, maybe some knee pads, but none of it really helped when the kitchen cabinet opened and all of my pots and pans crashed down around me, banging me far worse than Killian was.”

“You almost had me going until you acted like you have a bunch of pots and pans because you don’t.” “Bloody hell, lass,” Killian sputters, walking into her office and shutting the door behind him before putting the food on her desk, “you believed any of that?”

“Emma’s not the most vocal about her sex life. She could be into some freaky stuff.”

“You’re so weird, Rubes,” She laughs, shaking her head as she rolls her chair back toward the desk. “You can share my – ” She peeks into the bag, pulling out a box of onion rings. “ – onion rings with me.” “I got some for Ruby too, love.” “Bless you,” Ruby groans, getting up from her chair and coming to stand next to them all the while she goes back to working as well as eating. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Because I bring you food?” “Exactly. You didn’t even know I was going to be here, and you brought me food. That is a good man.”

“You and Emma are kind of a packaged deal at work.” Ruby waves a fry in Killian’s face all the while Emma watches the two of them go back and forth with each other, a bright smile on her face that she can practically feel stretching into her eyes.

“And don’t you forget it, Jones.”

[artistic-nacho-blog]

Sanders Sides One-Shot

The sentence prompt is: It seemed like a really good idea yesterday.

Trigger warnings: Cursing, being cornered, panic, anxiety(ofc),negative thoughts, sick family members, and family members walking out.

Relationship: There is no actual relationship, but it hints at prinxiety, logicality, and some slight anxceit, but nothing major.

A/N: So, this was honestly supposed to end in a completely different way! Like, Deceit was not even going to appear in this one... I appreciate constructive criticism, and if there are any other warnings I should add, please let me know.

Word Count:4,137 (Not too shabby)

If you guys want a second part, fill free to tell me, I was originally supposed to end this on a bad note, but yolo I’ll probably end up doing it anyways cuz it’s not like I even finished the actual sentence.

An annoying beeping sound jars Virgil from his less than peaceful night’s rest. Turning over, he slaps his hand on his alarm clock a few times, making sure to turn off his alarm. He peels his eyes open slowly, looking at the time.

05:30

He groaned. Why did he think it would be a good idea to leave showering in the morning? Virgil pushes himself out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. If he woke his dad up, it would be the end for him.

‘After all, your good ol’ dad is tired only because of you.’

He floundered over to his closest, pulling out the first clothing options he could find because it’s not like matching mattered when you wear all black. Unless your blacks end up not matching, then you are just screwed.

Once Virgil finished his shower, he put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a black Evanescence shirt, and his signature black hoodie. He checked his hair once more, making sure his bangs were evenly spaced apart, before exiting his bathroom.

Virgil walked down the stairs, the smell of pancakes dulling his senses. He looked to his right, where his dad was cooking chocolate chip pancakes.

“Dad, should you really be cooking today.” He didn’t need to get up, he could have made a hot pocket or something.

“Do you not appreciate my signature pancakes anymore? And here I thought you would like the surprise ingredient,” his dad leaned heavily on the counter, over exaggerating his movements in the process.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Oh my god dad, don’t be so dramatic.”

“But I’m not being dramatic!”

“Sure you’re not.”

Heaving a laugh, his father turned back to the task at hand, expertly flipping a pancake onto the plate. Virgil clapped, making sure to let out a quiet whoop in the midst of cheering.

“What is going on here?”

Both males freeze and slowly turned around. Virgil’s mother looked them over with a hardened gaze, her eyes zeroing in on Virgil,

“I thought I told you two,” she started out, both of them looking down guiltily at her staccato like words, “No cooking chocolate chip pancake without me! How could you do this Brent? I trusted our secret mix with you!” She then grinned mischievously at the two. Her brown eyes lighting up,

“’Guess I’ll need to eat them all, that way our recipe will not get out in the open.”

“Mom, no!”

“Love, ca-we can work this out, think about what you’re about to attempt to do!”

She chuckled, “Attempt? Honey, I’m going to succeed!” She took off, running full speed, laughing evilly, in an attempt to grab the pancakes on the platter. Brent screeched something about the “sharing is caring rule” before grabbing the platter and taking off in a random direction.

Virgil chuckled at his parent’s antics. Waltzing up to the stove and flipping a pancake currently on the pan. He watched in amusement as his parents took turns chasing each other, his mother taking a bite of a pancake each time she got her hands on the platter. How is he this lucky to have such amazing parents?

‘More like how did such amazing parents have you.’

He quickly flipped his pancake onto a plate, today was not the day to deal with this.

Virgil and his parents laughed at the table at the clever joke his father told. Who knew not all dad jokes are bad jokes? He took one last bite of his pancake, ultimately eating the last pancake standing.

Virgil checked his phone screen, his eyes widening,

“Crap!”

His parents flinched. Brent caught on quickly, looking at the clock and shaking his head as he darted upstairs and into his office. His mother on the other hand,

“What? What is it? Did you hurt yourself? Too many pancakes?”

Virgil pointed to his screen when it lit up again, showing his mother the time,

6:53.

He glared at his phone screen, hissing. “I’m going to miss my bus.”

Virgil headed for the stairs. “I gotta get my stuff mom! I’ll be right back!” Diving into his closet, he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He darted across the room, grabbing his headphones, stuffing them into his bag, along with yesterday’s homework. Multiple craps and shits were whispered in under a minute.

His father’s footsteps thundered down the hallway, he barged through his door,

“Normally I would knock, but we are on a time limit today, Virge.”

“It’s fine, do you have his present?”

“I do!”

“Fantastic.”

“Was that a Doctor Who reference?”

“Dad.”

“Sorry.”

Brent placed a swift kiss onto his forehead whispering words of encouragement as Virgil practically flew down the stairs.

Virgil ran into the kitchen, placing a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

“Bye mom, I love you!” He called out as he started to close the door. His mom cautioned him about crossing the road, with him promising to be safe, he finally left his house.

Running is so not his thing. Why did he have to miss his bus? He couldn’t be sweaty when he gave his crush their gift, that’s just a disaster waiting to happen.

Multiple thoughts overtook his mind as he ran to his school. Well, it was more like jogging, but still, it was running to him. Don’t judge! Virgil saw the school in the distance, he decided he was close enough to walk now, given that he still had around twenty minutes before the tardy bell would ring.

How was he going to give his crush their present? He knew he couldn’t just walk up to him and go,

“Hey, I know I stopped talking to you and my group of friends for two months and counting, but that reason was because I completely and utterly fell in love with you, but I am too much of an idiot to come to terms with that, so I ducked out.”

Or even worse,

“You know all those times I was a dick to you? Yeah, those. It was because you were being too cute in the moment for me to comprehend, so I usually ended up storming away or fighting you. So, sorry ‘boutcha! But hey! Look at this ring I bought that my father and I busted our asses to buy for you, cool huh?”

Fat chance of that working out.

He could always leave it in his locker anonymously, but that wouldn’t solve anything.

He looked down at the gift in his hands, a dull gold ring sat in the middle of his pale hand, the ring had an intricate flower design, as well as a sword’s hilt on the underside of the ring. His father worked overtime and graveyard shifts to help pay for the pricey antique.

He gave it another once over before shoving it in his pocket, Roman would never even like this! How stupid was he? Thinking this was a good idea. Virgil looked up just in time from missing a light pole. He briskly walked around the pole, putting his headphones on and selecting shuffle. He smiled when his favorite band started to play.

Virgil sighed as he pushed open the high school’s main doors. Oh well, he can always keep it for himself, yeah his fingers maybe too thin for the ring to fit, but rings on necklaces are popular right now, so it won’t seem out of the ordinary to randomly walk into school with a ring on his neck. Besides, it’s not like anyone would notice, he doesn’t have friends anymore.

He made his way to the gym, sitting on the far end, away from everyone’s too loud conversations. Why do they need to practically shout when they are so close together?

Virgil stole a few glances to his old posse of friends. Logan seemed like he was faring well, his tie matched Patton’s shirt, which is pretty cute he guessed. Patton must have told everyone a joke, because when he looked at Roman, his eyes lit up with humor. He burst out laughing, and everyone around him was quick to join.

‘Look how happy he is without you.’

Virgil sighed, closing his eyes in a meek attempt to block out that thought. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring directly into Roman’s hazel hues. Gasping softly, he lowered his gaze at his phone, opening Tumblr and flicking through it, not really paying attention to what he saw on the screen.

God he’s such an idiot! He stared too long. The others must think he’s an absolute freak! Maybe if he apologized for the fight he had with them, they would take him back?

‘You’re pitiful if you actually think that would work, they must hate you.’

He swiftly looked up to see his past partners in crime chatting away.

‘Knew it.’

‘Good,’ he thought bitterly, ‘it’s better this way.’

A loud buzzing jarred him from his thoughts, only calming down once he realized it was just the bell.

He jostled his hand as he made his way down the busy hall. He kept rubbing the ring, treating it like a fidget cube. He cringed when one of his less favored song started to play. He took his hand out of his pocket, switching to a new song.

Heading to his first class, mythology, was a blur. He was deep in thought, thinking of all the different scenarios that his anxious mind could phantom.

It took thirty full minutes for him to realize. His teacher Ms. Marshal was talking about today’s lesson, unmindfulness and forgetfulness.

Ms. Marshal basically skipped to the board after calling role. “Now that we have covered Hades, we will get into the five rivers of Hades.” Virgil looked on, only paying attention part time, “We are going to start with my favorite one, Ameles potamos, which translates river of unmindfulness.”

Virgil looked out the window, reaching into his pocket to thumb his ring, he dug around in his pocket for a moment before realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His ring is not there.

Good.Fucking.Job.

His breathing picked up as he frantically searched through his belongings, covering every inch. He searched the ground following the path he walked into his desk. Nothing.

His ring that his father worked double the amount for, all those part time jobs over the summer for nothing. He can’t help but pray to whatever’s out there. Let this be a realistic dream, a nightmare, he passed out. Hell, anything is better than what’s happening to him right now.

He can barely breathe, this wasn’t happening. It was not happening!

He flinched when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see his petite teacher gazing at him with concern. He looked around to see other students working, thankfully only one or two were watching his mental break down.

Ms. Marshal whisper to him, asking something, but it was too fuzzy for him to hear,

‘You can’t even listen properly.’

He gasped out a soft “What?”

“Do you need to go outside for a moment?” Virgil softly nodded, collecting his thoughts best he can when she motioned to the classroom door. He crept quietly out the door, his teacher in tow.

Once he was outside his teacher asked him a few questions,

“Are you okay?” Nod.

“Do you need to leave?” He shook his head.

“Do you need to be alone for a moment?” Another nod.

She gave him a stiff nod, sending him one more glance before entering the classroom once again, leaving a statement hanging in the air, “If you need me to send a friend out, I will, so let me know.”

‘Ha, what friends?’

The door made a click sound, notifying him that it closed. Past his tears, he can make out two shaking hands. He slid to the floor, wondering what the hell he did to deserve this. After a few minutes of collecting his thoughts, he picked himself up. He needed to find that ring.

After another minute or two to regain his composure, he got up on unsteady legs, and started his search.

His ring had to be here somewhere. After multiple futile attempts at finding his most expensive possession he collapsed next to a trash bin, fresh tears pouring.

As he was about to get back up, a set of firm hands grabbed Virgil’s shoulders, making him flinch for a second time that day. A crisp voice found its way to his ears, slightly calming him down.

“Virgil? What happened? Can you hear me?” He nodded. Who’s here?

Blinking away his tears, he looked up to see Logan with a worried Patton in the background. Why the flying fuck are they here? It didn’t matter, what mattered was Virgil being a complete fuck up for losing the ring.

“Virgil, are you having an attack?” No? Why are you asked dumb questions?

Virgil glared lightly, choosing a more polite approach than he would have liked, “No. Why are you here?” He shrunk down into his hoodie, he did not want to be here right now.

Logan adjusted his glasses as Patton calmed down, breathing a sigh of relief.  Patton gave him his ‘disappointed dad look’ and Virgil shrunk into his hoodie some more. Patton can be more threatening than he realizes.

“Well, kiddo-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Shush. As I was going to tell you, Logan found this nifty ring in the hallway-“

Ring?

“Where! Where is it?” Virgil was instantly freaking out again.

It had to be his ring!

Logan told him something but he wasn’t listening, he needed to know!

Patton looked baffled at Virgil’s outburst.

“Kiddo, it’s okay, we were on our way to turn it in at the office, when a boy with this neato snake charm walked up. He seemed like he was in a rush, too! Maybe we-“

“Patton you are getting off topic.”

“Sorry. Thanks, Lo. Well he said that it was his ring that he lost earlier this morning, so we handed it off to him.” Virgil shut down. His thoughts halted, his breath caught in his throat, and his body was too stressed to continue shaking. What? His ring. His gift to the one he loved ‘oh-so-much’.

No, Virgil. It could be a different ring.

‘Were you ever that lucky, though?’

“Patton.”

“Yeah kiddo?”

“What did the ring look like?”

Before Patton could go on about the ring, Logan provided the answer he was hoping to not hear,

“It was a dull golden ring, it also had floral designs-”

Virgil got up hastily, as if a snake bit him. He felt queasy and the shaking came back just as fast as it disappeared.

“Oh my god,” he started out, he saw black dots enter his vision, he couldn’t control his breathing anymore. Please. Let it be a joke. It’s a terrible prank and they knew about the ring the whole time.

“Virgil.” Who?

“Virgil.” Who is that?

“Virgil!” He snapped out of his dazed state,

“Hu-huh. What?”

“You zoned out, kiddo. Are you okay?” Patton, it’s just Patton.

He searched around for a moment, someone was missing from the picture.

“Wher- Where’s Logan?” Patton shifted closer to Virgil, slowly putting an arm around his shoulder.

“He went to get the nurse, but I just texted him that you’re okay, so he should be coming back now.”

“Where’s Roman?” In the months that he had been apart from his friends, he never saw the three separated.

Patton glanced down the hall to see Logan and a tall guy coming their way.

“Roman’s in a different class right now, so he didn’t find the ring with us.”

A single “Oh” left his mouth.

When Logan and the boy came close enough, Virgil noticed how tight his grip on the boy’s arm was. Patton seemed to notice that too, but he didn’t say anything.

Once Logan came close enough to talk quietly, he started a mini rant,

“I found this heathen,” Logan gestured to the guy, “roaming the hallways. He did not have a hall pass, but he did have a lot of metal bands.” Logan shoved the boy’s jacket down, showing off tons of stitch-on inside pockets. He pulled a few items out, just to drop them onto the floor.

Patton gasped loudly, Virgil’s eyes widened significantly. These items were very familiar to both of them.

One by one, more pockets were emptied, class rings showered the hallway’s dirty floors. Logan continued,

“I watched him fill his pockets with the class rings in the teacher’s lounge. He is also the one who said the ring that is presumably Virgil’s was his.”

Patton looked on, shocked at what he was seeing, “Kiddo,” he choked out, “why would you steal class rings?” His eyes filled with tears as he continued to gaze at the multicolored rings.

The boy’s amber eyes grew cold, the once petrified person transformed into a hardened shell, “None of your business. If I wanted to be questioned, I would have just made a shit-load of noise as I took ‘em.” Logan blinked, seeming to try and keep his composure.

“I do not understand. There is absolutely no gain in taking rings.”

“Yes there is!”

“Kiddo, how? Stealing is wrong! This could get you a one way ticket to prison!”

“I have my reasons, trash.”

“You will not speak to Patton like that! He was simply trying to get an explanation!”

“Shut up! I don’t need to explain my reasoning, clod.”

“But you do have a reason that can get you out of trouble?”

“Of-fucking-course I do, Sherlock!”

“Don’t talk to Logan like that! He just wants to help!”

“Then tell us!”

Three heads whipped around when the ever silent teen Virgil shouted, seeming to have forgotten him. He took large, quick steps towards his target, who took a two steps back for every step forwards Virgil made.

“Tells us why you took the rings.”

Logan and Patton looked on as Virgil backed him into a wall. Once the boy couldn’t go anywhere, he tried to seem bigger by raising his shoulders and neck. But unluckily for him, when Virgil stopped slouching and rose to his full height, he had a good four inches on him.He planted a hand on the wall, trapping his target.

Virgil seethed, his nostrils flared out slightly,

“Listen buddy,” the boy shrunk back down.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you can’t just go parading around, stealing people’s rings! Do you know how much one of those costs? Like four hundred freaking dollars!”

The boy looked anywhere but Virgil’s direction.

“What’s your name?” Confusion passed over Alastor’s face. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why should I tell you, bitch?”

“Excuse me?”

Silence, then a quiet,

“Alastor…”

Virgil glared at him. “Well, Alastor, I hope you realize unless you have a good damn reason for stealing all of those rings, which must have my ring that my father worked his ass off for in it, I will report you. And then you can say bye-bye to your little life of stealing people’s shit.”

Alastor stayed silent, as if his shoes were more interesting than what’s going on around him. Virgil looked over him one more time, before leaning his body off the wall and making his way to the office, anger controlling his anxiety. Thank you adrenaline.

‘It’s sad knowing you’re only this gutsy due to adrenaline’

“Wait!” Alastor cried out, transforming into a helpless teenager,

“You can’t tell anyone! I swear I’ll do anything you want me to!”

Patton and Logan looked on, seemingly curious as to what their used-to-be friend will do.

Virgil stopped and turned pausing to act like he was thinking,

“Why.Did.You.Steal.My.Ring.” The words where uttered like a statement, rather than a question.

Alastor took a deep, raspy breath before opening his mouth fully,

“My mom’s sick…

“And my dad left last week.”

Patton made a confused noise,”Left? Like a vacation? That’s not a very soli-“

“No!” Alastor shouted, causing everyone to jump,

“He walked out on use ‘cause her insurance wouldn’t cover the costs. He left ‘cause he’s a shitty dad.”

Patton gasped as Logan shuddered. Virgil looked on blankly. Logan and Alastor watched Patton’s face morph from confused, to horrified, then back to confusion.

“But that doesn’t explain it? How does your old man leaving cover for you stealing class rings?”

Virgil shook his head as he walked towards Alastor,

“Yes it does, Pat. How do you think his mother is still in the hospital?” Patton gasped once more, understanding flashed in his eyes.

“You-you stole the rings to pawn them off didn’t you?” Silence was the only answer they needed for verification.

Alastor slowly walked towards the rings, “You can have your ring back,” he bent down, picking up Virgil’s dull ring, “I watched you drop it in the hall this morning, I was going to get it, but these two beat me to it.” He gestured to Logan and Patton. Logan holding a sniffling Patton close.

Virgil held open his palm once Alastor got close enough for him to drop it. He inspected it carefully, making sure no harm was done, before securing it in his pocket once more.

“Thanks,” he nodded his head to the pile of class rings on the ground.

“What about those, you going to turn them in?”

“I don’t have a say in the matter, do I?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

Virgil chuckled. Alastor reminded him somewhat of Roman, he was witty and  he would do anything for the ones he loved, even if it meant breaking the law.

‘But he wouldn’t go this far.’

He quickly shook his head, as if it would clear that thought.

“You can turn them in how ever you want to, but I know Logan won’t let you leave with them.” He sent a look towards Logan, who was fussing over a calmed down dad friend.

Alastor nodded curtly, “I’m sorry or whatever.” He pushed out the words softly.

“I don’t need your sympathy, though,” he continued on.

Virgil let a puff of air escape him, “Noted.”

As Logan came over with the rings in a bag, Alastor looked at the bag, obviously confused.

“Weird right? He keeps a plastic baggy on him at all times, he even has extra in his backpack.” Alastor just smirked, enjoying the new information given to him. He probably‘s like you, no friends.

‘But no one at home to go back to.’

He cringed at the thought.

Before Alastor could walk out of his reach, Virgil gripped his arm,

“Wait.” He paused, wondering how to say this without seeming like it was out of pity, “If you want, you can sit with me later at lunch, I always sit alone, so it’s not like it would bother anybody.

Alastor’s eyes widened a fraction, before he looked at Virgil in shock, “But I tried to steal from you! Are you normally this clueless?”

Virgil merely shrugged, “The offer still stands. Come if you want, but it’s your choice.”

After the day’s episode of crazy, Virgil sat in the courtyard, anticipation riding on his back.

It’s not like he would actually-Oh my god there he is!

Alastor caught Virgil’s gaze as he sheepishly walked over to him, sitting on the brick wall behind them.

A simple, “Hey” Came out of Alastor’s mouth. Virgil awkwardly shifted on his spot on top of the wall. How did he think this was a good idea again?

‘Because he’s all alone.’

Virgil squeaked. “Hi.”

“So, those two guys helped me put the rings back in the cases without the teachers knowing.”

Virgil blinked in shock,” Seriously?

“Yeah, it was mostly because I was the only person who looked after my mom.”

“Oh.”

“In the end, they ended up threatening me before they would help me, though.”

“Why did they threaten you?”

Alastor’s eyes widened, his pale cheeks almost immediately turned five shades redder. Virgil stared, while he may be observant, he was dense as shit.

Virgil then craned his head towards a round table near the edge of the courtyard, watching as Roman, Logan, and Patton sat down in their respective areas. Roman’s smirk vanished for a second, before being replaced with a soft smile, a few white glistening teeth showing through. He let out a puff of air.

He looked back at Alastor, grinning as he kept missing a fruit with his fork. Not missing the small growl he let out when it fell off his tray and onto the floor. Virgil let out a chuckle, giving one of his pieces of fruit to Alastor, chuckling all the while.

Although Virgil’s plan never got put into motion, at least he had someone to call a friend.

A/N: Glad that got finished! Deceit’s name has a meaning to it, I just forgot cuz I’ve been writing for hours on other future fics/one-shots. Thank you for reading, and please tell me how I did!

[yminie]

rooftop | namjoon + yugyeom (m)

there are no gifs of namjoon and yugyeom rip

pairing: namjoon x reader x yugyeom genre/warnings: smut, threesome words: 4748. summary: You’re stuck on the rooftop of your apartment building after a friend makes the drunken mistake of shutting the I-only-unlock-from-the-inside fire exit behind him. But you’re not alone, and Yugyeom likes to play games.

a/n: Happy Birthday to my first Tumblr friend! @cloudygyeom / @brightnamjoon  Love you Karisma, hope you don’t die haha. <3

You had no idea how you ended up here, stuck on the rooftop of your building with the party you’d been so reluctant to attend vibrating the floor beneath where you sat.

Yugyeom had somehow talked you into coming up to the rooftop, dragging your friends Namjoon, Jungkook and Jackson along with you, the cool breeze a welcome break from the humid air in the boys’ apartment and you were seated against the concrete wall beside the fire exit leading to the rooftop, your empty cup rolling around in front of you as you all laughed, the boys joking back and forth and emptying their own drinks.

Jackson had stood with a light sway, catching himself on Jungkook’s shoulder with a giggle before he could fall “I’m gonna head back inside, there should still be pizza left. Anyone else coming?” Jungkook had stood after the word pizza was mentioned and Jackson swung his arm around the younger’s’ neck. You looked between the other two boys both of them rooted to their spots and already looking at you.

You shook your head, not overly keen to return to the party just yet, and they followed your lead, silently deciding to stay with you until you were ready to go back inside. You knew they could tell from the start you weren’t much of a party person, and you were grateful they chose not to pressure you into going back inside.

Jackson shrugged and pulled Jungkook along with him to the door, and they both clumsily stumbled down the stairs, voices echoing through passage until they finally disappeared, the residual sound from the music inside eating their voices.

“I actually wouldn’t mind another drink, how about you two?” Yugyeom spoke up, dragging himself to stand and you nodded along with Namjoon who quickly downed the remainder of his drink. Yugyeom brushed the knees of his jeans off and moved towards the door to go back inside. You didn’t really pay much attention to him until he swore loudly, catching both yours and Namjoon’s attention, the two of you leaning forward to see what was so alarming. “The fucking door is shut!”

Scrambling to your feet, Namjoon followed you to look for yourselves, and he was right. Jackson must have let the door swing closed behind them after they’d gone inside; normal, right?

Only catch was, that particular fire exit was not accessible from the outside. And once the door was shut, it could only be opened from within.

“You’ve got to be joking?” You couldn’t help but laugh, your hand coming up to cover your eyes. “Jackson you idiot.” The boys laughed along with you in agreement, each of you looking at each other, amused. Yugyeom fished his phone from his pocket, and you all sat back in your spots on the ground.

He dialled both Jackson and Jungkook, and even Mark before giving up, knowing the music of the party would easily be drowning out the sounds of any phone ringing. You’d left your phone inside, and you knew Namjoon’s was connected to the music system downstairs, leaving you no other option than to wait it out and hope someone checks their phone soon.

“How typical can you get?” Yugyeom laughed, running a hand through his hair and spinning his beer bottle in fast circles in front of him, each of you becoming transfixed on the blur of the glass.

“I guess we just have to wait. Of all the nights for me to leave my phone inside.” You shook your head, leaning back to lean against the wall. The ringing of the glass against the concrete stopped abruptly.

“I have an idea to pass the time.” Your chin dipped until you could see Yugyeom’s face again and your eyes caught on the bottle in his hand as he shook it from side to side with a grin.

“Um, I’m not really keen on kissing you Yugyeom, I’m pretty sure we can find something else to do.” Namjoon laughed, kicking Yugyeom’s leg in a teasing manner and the younger boys face lit up with a slight blush as he became flustered at the both of you laughing.

“Not spin the bottle! Well not really. Truth or Dare!” you were already shaking your head before he finished his sentence. “Come on noona, don’t be so boring!”

“Yah!” you glared at him, heat rising to your face in annoyance, but he only ignored you, choosing to turn to Namjoon instead.

“You wanna play, right hyung?” Namjoon looked carefully back at you before shrugging at the boy.

“I’ll play but only if _____ will.” Your face heated again, this time with a heavy blush that you could only try to hide behind your hair. Your thoughts unavoidably flashed back to the last time you played truth or dare. Though while being paired with Namjoon for your first ever seven minutes in heaven had in general been a pleasant experience, you still couldn’t look him in the eye for too long since that night without getting flustered.

“See, noona, he wants to play!” You rolled your eyes at Yugyeom’s insistence and kicked his side lightly with your foot with him only giggling in response, and you could tell it barely tickled him.

“Yah, you’re so annoying, kid.” He only grinned, sensing your acquiescence and excitedly placing the bottle in the middle of your small circle, Namjoon shuffling closer to fill the extra space.

“Okay, I’ll go first?” Yugyeom clapped his hands together, grabbing the bottle and spinning it quickly. All three of you watched as it spun, slowing to a stop – you guessed it – pointing right at you.

“Noona!” you groaned as soon as he spoke, head tipping back to stare at the stars while you awaited the dreaded question. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” You glared at the ‘boring’ he whispered under his breath but otherwise ignored it. He thought for a moment before clapping excitedly.

“Is it true you have one of those big vibrator wands stashed under your bed?” You gaped at him, slapping his leg before covering your face in embarrassment. He laughed loudly, grabbing his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

“Yugyeom!” you cringed, peaking through your fingers to look between the two boys. Yugyeom was still laughing, slapping his thigh, but Namjoon wasn’t. A hot flush crept up the back of your neck as you met his dark gaze.

While his shoulders were shaking slightly with his chuckling, it was his lip between his teeth that caught your attention, and you forced yourself to look away before you could focus too heavily on the sight, your throat already dry.

“You need to answer the question noona~.” Yugyeom teased. “Either that or you strip off a piece of clothing as punishment. You stuck him with a glare once more, already frustrated at being sucked into this game.

“You already know the answer, why would you even ask me that?” he grinned cheekily.

“Do I know?” You huffed at him, staring back down at the offending bottle in front of you, grabbing it quckly.

“Yes, I do. Next person.” Yugyeom laughed with glee as you spun the bottle, but it was your turn to grin with excitement as the bottle landed on Yugyeom in return.

“Oh would you look at that! Truth or Dare you little brat.” He leaned back on his palms calmly, seeming very at ease as he made his decision.

“Dare.” You could see Namjoon raise an eyebrow at his confidence out of the corner of your eye and in turn, you leaned back to relax against the wall.

“I dare you, to honestly tell me if it’s true that Mark heard you moaning my name while you were jacking off in the shower last week.” There was a split second of silence before Yugyeom was choking on his own spit, mouth gaping similarly to a fish as he scrambled for something to say.

“Wow~.” Namjoon shook his head, covering his mouth to hide his grin as he laughed at Yugyeom’s expense.

“Who told you that?” Yugyeom’s face was flushed right down his neck until his skin disappeared behind his shirt, and you almost felt a little sorry about how pinched his expression really was.

“Does it matter? Answer the question Yug.” You tutted, tilting your head and he moved his gaze from yours to Namjoon.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing. Like you haven’t done the same.” Your eyes wide, you looked at Namjoon in shock but he didn’t seem bothered by Yugyeom exposing him in the slightest, giving a shrug at the boys response.

“Just be happy she hasn’t been told all the other stuff you’ve said about her.” Yugyeom grew even more flustered, fidgeting in place, and your gaze drifted between the two, shocked.

“Other stuff? What does that mean, what have you said?” He stared down at his hands, distracting himself with the cuff of his sweater and Namjoon’s chuckle broke the silence.

“He won’t say it, he’s too scared.” Namjoon’s words triggered some sort of response from Yugyeom, the boys’ spine stiffening and his eyebrows coming together in a scowl as he glanced up at you before looking back to Namjoon.

“And why is that?” You frowned, looking at Namjoon in confusion. You’ve known Yugyeom for ages, what could he possibly have said that was so embarrassing? Namjoon grinned almost smugly, and opened his mouth to tell you, but Yugyeom cut him off sharply.

“B-Because!” Yugyeom stuttered and you turned your head quickly to look at him, waiting for him to finally tell you what was going.

“Because, I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to make you scream my name.” You could feel yourself freeze, pinned down by his dark gaze on yours and in shock at his words. “Have your body trembling under me… Your eyes filled with tears as you beg-”

The gasp of breath you’d been holding in finally escaped, cutting off his speech and you choked, lifting a hand to make him stop speaking as heat flushed your cheeks once more.

“Okay… I think I get it.” You spluttered, looking away from him but making the mistake of letting yourself glance at Namjoon. His eyes were stuck on you, lip pulled between his teeth and chin tilted to reveal the tempting line of his jaw.

You were embarrassed at just how much Yugyeom’s words had wound you up, and the fact you weren’t alone, Namjoon’s presence making it all the more harder to stay composed especially with the way he continued to look at you.

It was silent once more and Yugyeom carefully picked up the glass bottle, distracting you as he spun it once more, and if you hadn’t been so caught up in your thoughts you would’ve been astonished with the way the bottle came to a stop pointed at you once more.

“Truth or Dare.” Namjoon asked lowly from beside you, but you didn’t look at him. You didn’t look at either of them even though you could feel both pairs of eyes staring at you, choosing to stare down at the bottle instead.

“Truth.” You whispered back, eyes closing momentarily as you tensed.

“Do you want us?” Yugyeom spoke up this time, voice lower than you’d ever heard and you bit your lip, fingers twisting together as you tried to build your confidence. Truthfully, you did want them, and while the fear of messing up your friendship with them both was very real to you, there was a larger part of you that just couldn’t say no.

“Yes.” The boys’ reactions were instant, Yugyeom relaxing while Namjoon tensed, swiftly leaning forward to grasp your hand in his.

“You’re sure?” You met his eyes with a small smile, nodding, and he quickly pulled you by the arm until you were falling into his lap, greedily taking your lips with his without sparing a thought for the other boy in your presence.

The memories of the last time you kissed him came rushing back, and you were overwhelmed with his essence once more. There was just something about Namjoon that stuck with you. Like a heady cocktail of his scent, along with the way his kisses tasted, and even the way he held you confidently by the back of your head, leaving you no room to move away but knowing you didn’t want to anyway.

You found yourself lost in his embrace, legs draped over his lap. The haze he had cast over your mind being barely broken by the groan Yugyeom emitted behind you, and you broke the kiss reluctantly, taking a deep breath and turning your head to look back at him.

Namjoon’s lips moved down your cheek and grazed across our jaw, sucking soft purple bruises into your skin as he moved further down your neck. Your eyes fluttered and found you couldn’t stem the flow of light gasps escaping you. Yugyeom’s eyes drifted from Namjoon’s hands on your hips to meet yours, his lower lip red and glossy like he’d been biting it repeatedly, and he looked too good for you to not reach out to him.

He scrambled to join the two of you; his confidence from earlier having slipped slightly, and you could see the nervousness in his movements as he hesitated to come closer to you while you were in the older boys’ embrace. You brought your hand up to stroke the side of his neck just as Namjoon decided to nip at your earlobe, and your hand involuntarily delved into his hair with a light tug. Yugyeom closed in on you with a light whimper, lips carefully tickling your shoulder and you pulled him closer, taking the initiative to connect your lips with his.

Namjoon’s hands grabbed at your hips tighter, pulling back from the curve of your neck to watch the two of you kiss with a hiss, fingers slipping under your shirt to graze the sensitive skin of your sides with his nails, and you shivered between them.

Joon’s hands lifted the bottom of your shirt up until your bra came into view, immediately pressing kisses into the newly exposed skin before pulling the cups of your bra down and latching onto your nipple. You gasped openly into Yugyeom’s mouth and he moaned against your lips, hands grabbing at the bunched fabric of your shirt around your chest and pulling away from your lips to tug the fabric over your head.

Namjoon’s hand distracted you once more, sliding down your stomach to hook under the waistband of your jeans and you looked up into his eyes, biting your lip at the way his own looked, puffy and swollen from sucking on your skin. It wasn’t long before his hand was undoing the button and pulling down the zipper, a peek of your panties being exposed to his view.

Yugyeom behind you was too busy slipping his sweater and shirt off to fully notice what was happening between you and Namjoon, but your moan definitely caught his attention. Joon had slid his hand into your panties, sliding over your folds and flicking up against your clit, and he hissed as his fingers were quickly drenched by how wet you were.

“God, you’re soaked.” He groaned, and your forehead dropped to rest against his shoulder as his fingers rubbed little figure eights over your clit, your hips bucking against his hand. Fingers run up the length of your back before catching on the clip of your bra and a moment later you felt the fabric drop from your breasts, warm hands coming from behind you to cup them and Yug’s fingers tightened around the buds, twisting your nipples just enough that the pain added to the pleasure, and you weren’t really sure what to focus on.

“Noona?” The honorific you were so used to dripped off his tongue like molten lava, and you spasmed as his nails nicked against the peaks of your nipples. You hummed in response, peeking one eye open to gaze up at him and he grinned shyly. “I want to taste you noona.” You whimpered loudly, hiding your face once more in the curve of Namjoon’s neck, pulling light chuckles from both boys.

“Do you want that?” Joon’s voice rumbled through his chest into your ear and you sat up a little straighter as his fingers on your clit eased their motions. “Do you want him to taste you?” you nodded tightly, blushing with your admission. “Then tell him.” His voice was low, so low, and the vibration went straight through you, your core already tightening with the want to be filled.

“Yugy?” You whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “I want your mouth.” His lip caught between his teeth and he eased towards you, hands finding your hips to turn you in Namjoon’s lap until you were facing him, back pressed to Joon’s chest. Yugyeom quickly stripped you of your jeans and panties, leaving you fully naked and dripping, his eyes greedily taking you in until you brought back his attention with a whimper. “Please.”

Laying himself down on his stomach, he was quick to give you exactly what you wanted, tongue finding your slit with no hesitation and your hands shot down to grab at his hair, the shock of pleasure catching you off guard. Your back arched off of Joon’s chest before he pulled you back into him, keeping you in place with his hands on your breasts and his mouth against your neck.

You hadn’t fully grasped just how wound up you truly were until Yugyeom’s mouth had found your clit, tongue working overtime against the sensitive little nub and dipping down every few seconds to collect the moisture dripping from you like it was his last meal. Your high was fast approaching and you could feel yourself being dragged closer to the edge, your breathing coming in short bursts and your body began to heat from the inside out until it felt like you were burning alive in the best way.

Your orgasm hit you all at once, and you shook under their hands, legs tightening around Yugyeom’s shoulders until he was forced to pull them apart, soft licks and kisses trailing up and down from your heat to your thigh as you came down from the pleasure.

Yugyeom kissed his way up your body, as Namjoon helped you sit up, both boys stroking their hands over your skin softly and you looked between them. “Who’s going first?” You felt Namjoon’s grin, teeth nipping against your skin with a smirk and you watched Yugyeom quietly. He seemed hesitant once more, and you could tell in the way he looked up at you that he wanted you to take control of the situation rather than leave the choice up to him.

You glanced up at Namjoon with a soft smile and he read your expression easily, slipping out from behind you to undress himself. While he stripped, you turned back to Yugyeom once more, crawling towards him on your knees until you straddled his lap. He gazed up at you in admiration, hands resting gently against your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck until you were flush against his chest, lifting your hips until you were pressed against his length, trapped under the tight fabric of his jeans.

Grabbing his hair between your fingers you kissed him hard, leaning into the kiss until he was forced to lay back underneath you, and you tore your lips from his once he was flat against the ground, reaching down to unzip and push his jeans down. Your hand grazed his length in the process and you giggled at the way he whimpered and jerked under your touch.

“Is it sensitive?” You asked sweetly, letting your hand drift over his covered length once more and he whimpered again with a slight nod, hips jerking below you and pretty pout on his lips. “You want noona to make it feel better?”

“Fuck, yes please noona, I want you so bad.” You grinned as the words poured from his mouth unabashedly, his eagerness to please at an all time high as he begged for you again. “Please noona, make me feel good. I promise it’ll feel good for you too.”

You hummed under your breath, fingers pulling at the waistband of his boxers until his length broke free, slapping against his stomach and gasped in surprise, hissing at your hand wrapped around him to pull back his foreskin, watching the little pearl of precum at the head well up and glide down the side, catching it with your thumb and rubbing it back across the little slit it escaped from.

“Come now princess, I think you’ve teased enough. Don’t be mean.” Namjoon’s breath drifted across your neck as he rejoined the two of you, hand drifting into your hair and pulling your head back until you were able to look directly up at him. “Here, let me show you how to do it.”

Namjoon’s other hand was on your hip while he moved you effortlessly, and you barely registered Yugyeom’s tip at your entrance until you were already being pressed down over it, head still tipped back and eyes fluttering shut as you sunk down over Yugyeom’s length with a shudder, feeling him tense and stiffen beneath you with a sharp cry of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, noona, you feel so good.” His hands found your hips and Namjoon let him control the pace, all the while keeping your head tilted up to face his. Leaning down, he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth with a light moan, muffling the high-pitched breaths and squeaks forcing their way out of your throat as Yugyeom continued to thrust below you. You were positioned in such a way that the head of his length brushed against that particular spot inside you with every push of his hips and each time you landed back down against his hips your moans grew in volume, until you could barely breathe and you were forced to break your lips away from Joon’s with a gasp.

He finally released his hold on your hair; your neck protesting dully after having been in that position for too long, and you dropped your gaze back down to Yugyeom. You could tell in the way his hips stuttered and how his breathing was coming out in little high-pitched pants that he was getting close. You probably wouldn’t cum but that was okay, he’d already made you cum once and it was his turn.

Leaning forward you planted your lips against his forehead, triggering him to open his eyes and stare up at you with a heavily lidded gaze. And that’s when you really started to move for him. Back arched and legs straddling either side of his hips, you took control of the pace, bouncing yourself up and down on his length and his eyes quickly dropped shut again, his chest arching up into yours as you drove him closer to his high.

“M’gonna cum.” He panted against your chest, hands moving from your hips to your breasts as he buried his face between them. “Noona, you’re gonna make me cum!” His voice broke into a sob at the end and his hips thrust up into you hard, catching you by surprise, and you felt him throb and swell inside you as he coated your walls with his release.

You eased yourself off his length, wincing at the empty feeling, and moved to crawl off of him, but Namjoon had other ideas. Hands were grasping at your hips and one slid up your back until it was buried in your hair once more, pushing your face down this time until your cheek was pressed against Yugyeom’s firm stomach and you gazed up at Namjoon, eagerness for him to fill you with his own hard length building in your core and you jerked as his finger found your sensitive entrance, fingers dipping inside to collect Yugyeom’s cum and holding it up for you both to see. Before you could think twice, Joon’s fingers were pressed into your mouth, and you swiped at the digits with your tongue until he pulled them back out with a pop.

“You ready, princess?” His voice was gravelly, husky and you melted under his gaze, nodding as you let your hips sway back and forth teasingly. His palm met the skin at the back of your upper thigh and you flinched at the smack, a little grin breaking across your face and he smirked back at you. “I’m not gonna go easy on you.” He warned; the head of his length hot and sliding easily up and around your cum-drenched entrance, and you chuckled.

“Wouldn’t be you if you did.” At that, his hips smacked forward to meet your own and a light scream was pushed from your throat. You vaguely register Yugyeom’s fingers caressing your face and brushing your hair back, but all you can focus on is the brutal pace Namjoon has set for you. It almost feels as though there is barely a second between each thrust and you can’t help but gasp and whimper at the pain and pleasure he’s so skilfully combining inside of you. His hand at the back of your neck squeezes just enough at the sides of your throat to make your head go light and have you feeling like you’re floating on cloud nine. You don’t have a choice, all you can do is lie there and take everything he gives you.

“I-I- Namjoon!” He growls as leans down over you, teeth finding your ear and hips driving you into oblivion and you’re quickly cumming. Heat throbbing and gripping his length tightly as your mouth opens wide in a silent scream, eyes shut tight enough to water, legs collapsing beneath you and Namjoon is forced to release his hold on your neck and grab at your hips to keep you stable.

You gasp in a deep breath as you come down from your orgasm, lightheaded but very sated, and you whimper as Namjoon fucks into you even harder, the soreness in your limbs and core kicking in. You can’t help but to look back at him, seeing his head thrown back and sweat dripping down his chest, and suddenly you can’t wait to see him cum.

“Please cum in me.” The words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop and them and his eyes tighten further, head dropping forward as the roll of his hips stutters and he opens his eyes to stare down at you. You can tell he doesn’t want you to stop talking, so you don’t. “Please, oppa, I want your cum in me so bad. I can’t wait to feel it fill me up.” He cums with a loud groan akin to a roar, length pressed deep inside you and you can feel it spill out of you and drip down your legs even before he pulls out. You’re so full of cum, from the both of them, and even though it feels so very dirty, you’ve also never felt more satisfied.

Namjoon releases your hips and you ease down to lay on your stomach, the cool concrete below you bites into your skin but it soothes the heat and you sigh happily, Yugyeom’s fingers still carding through your hair. You look up at him with one eye open and he grins, opening his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by the ring of his phone on the ground beside him, Marks face lighting up the screen and you’re suddenly reminded as to why you’re up on the roof in the first place, you all scramble to grab your clothes and redress as fast as you can while Yugyeom answers his phone.

“Hyung?”

“You rang me? What’s up?” Mark has to shout over the music in the background and you stand on your wobbly legs hesitantly, pulling your shirt over your head.

“We’re stuck up on the rooftop, can you come let us inside?” Mark agrees and the three of you stare back and forth at each other, trying to calm the grins on your face and Yugyeom walks past you to meet Mark at the door, nudging your arm with a wink.

“I told you it was a good night to come to the rooftop.”

[wordsablaze]

Bombdiggity Brunets 3

Steve's caring nature gets him ambushed and of course Jonathan is the one to find and try to help the poor boy... Lowkey Stonathan. Enjoy!

A/N: I’m not sure if anyone on tumblr reads this but, if you do, sorry for the slight delay, I didn’t want to post a tiny chapter while i was busy! There are subtle panic attacks and general tension in this chapter, please don’t read if you’re not comfortable! <3

Steve wakes with a scream.

It's not a vocal scream that alerts anyone else he's currently terrified out of his mind, no, because that would disturb them and he doesn't want to be a bother, but it's a silent, internal scream that causes his thoughts to spiral into pessimism, and he's rolling out of bed before he can really think about what's happening, quietly landing on his hands and ankles to avoid making a sound.

And he's out of the room within a few seconds, downstairs within one minute, and leaving the house in another.

With no time in his plan for shoes or a jacket, he simply takes as deep a breath as he can and places one foot on the road, wincing as the cigarette burn flares up again, and starts to run.

He keeps slamming his eyes shut intermittently, wanting to rid himself of any pain or weakness by the time he gets back to his house. He tries to pretend that everything is fine and this is just another basketball escapade and he isn't now scared out of his mind most of the time. He doesn't entirely convince himself to be free of panic but he forces himself to pretend, knowing his parents won't allow for a ruined reputation.

Strangely, the front door is open.

"Father?" Steve calls as he walks in, draping he coat he'd hung up at some point around his shoulders to make himself look presentable.

"Kitchen!" his mother calls, so he wipes his feet out of habit and walks to their kitchen.

"You look terrible, where have you been?" his mother asks, her eyes wide.

"Probably playing basketball again," his father scoffs.

Steve nods, attempting to suppress the flashes of those men. His mother smiles and shakes her head at him, obviously assuming it was just another rough practice after which he'd gone to a mate's house and lost track of the time; it's not like they could know the only real friends he has wouldn't touch a basketball to save their life.

"Go get cleaned up, I have a meeting we need to attend."

Steve stops for a second. "You want me to come?"

His father sends him a strained smile. "As my only son, you are likely to inherit my role in the company as long as the board deems you fit to do so."

His mother beams. "So go freshen up and then you boys can have some pie before leaving!"

Steve barely even comprehends that he's been promised pie because he's too busy wondering how he's supposed to pretend he's not constantly losing his mind in front of so many people - people that have the power to shape his future in any way they please.

Nevertheless, he takes a painful shower, washing the dried blood off his skin, regretting trying to claw his skin off when he sees the faint scratches, and trying his best not to agitate the bruises or burns. Sighing, he realised he'll have to keep a jacket on at all times until the marks of his nails fade.

As for his face... Well, people are quick to assume he's gotten into a fight anyway; that shouldn't be a problem.

It's a challenge and a half to make himself look as cocky as the world expects himself to be but he does it, his jeans, shirt, and jacket complementing one another and his hair styled into magazine-worthy perfection.

His fingers itch to grab the nail bat hidden under his bed but he resists the temptation and, instead, slips on the small necklace Dustin had given him - one half of the silhouette of a man with a quiff. It's hidden under his shirt so nobody can see the chain but it comforts him to know it's there, a comfort he greatly needs if he's to play the part of the Steve Harrington that died as soon as he walked into that alley.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbles when his mother offers him the pie. To avoid making her suspicious, he adds, "we had heaps to eat after the practice, I'm still full."

He's lying, of course he is. He just can't bear the idea of eating after the taste of intoxicants and arrogance in his mouth because there's no way he'd stomach it and there's no way he's risking throwing up in front of his parents.

Luckily, his father is too busy eating and his mother doesn't question him, only smiles and says, "Oh, okay. I'll leave it in the fridge then."

There's no more to be said by anyone - and he almost misses the constant buzz of life at the Byers' house - until they get in the car and his father suddenly announces he doesn't feel so good.

Naturally, Steve and his mother both panic.

His mother panics because she loves his father and she's worried for his health, probably also wondering if it was her pie that caused it, but Steve panics because he doesn't want to face his father's colleagues alone and he wishes he'd eaten that pie now.

As soon as his mother shepherds his father back inside, he feels the guilt creeping at his heart. He's so stupid, he tells himself, not thinking of his father's health first, and follows his parents inside, hoping neither of them picks up on his internal struggle to stay calm.

His father sits on the couch, looking greener than their dying bamboo plant, and shakes his head. "Son, you're going to have to go for me."

"What?"

His father nods seriously. "It doesn't look good if neither of us goes."

His mother sighs. "Be careful driving."

And that's that. Because apparently, neither of them can sense the utter terror running in his blood as he swallows and nods before taking the car keys and trying not to grimace. So he swallows his anxiety and shakes his head, climbing into the car as if it's an active volcano and starting the engine as if he's waking up a Demogorgon. His hands are clammy as he grips the wheel but he has no choice, knowing his parents will be watching from the window in case he backs down.

And so he breathes.

And breathes.

And breathes.

He just breathes because there's nothing else to do when he's trying so hard not to simply jump out of the car and run as far as his legs will go before collapsing.

After a small eternity of breathing, he twists the key and puts his foot down, starting to drive. It takes him double the usual time to successfully pull out and join the traffic and he can feel the tension rushing through his blood as fluidly as the car tyres on the road.

Somehow, nothing goes wrong until he gets to the office where his father usually holds his meetings, but then everything goes wrong.

He sees the stiff men in business suits that are probably more expensive than anything he owns - at least, in terms of money - and he sees the way they're carrying themselves like predators. That's not, however, what throws him off. The only that manages to hinder his confidence is one small detail he notices about one of the men: there's an awfully familiar ring on his finger.

And Steve abruptly feels his stomach twist and his heart skip a beat because he cannot accept the possibility of having to spend hours with a man whose ring had pierced his skin in an attempt to subdue him, he just cannot. Even breathing is a chore as his hands grip the steering wheel with all their strength and he attempts to calm his panic down but it doesn't work and suddenly his mind is whirling and his brain is spinning and the world outside seems to be blurring and there's nowhere for him to go inside the metal of the car so he needs to get out but he can't find the door handle and his fingers are uselessly fumbling around so he's stuck and vulnerable and they're going to get him again, they're going to get him again, they're going to get him again, they're going to g-

"-eve, kid, come on, please!"

He groans, blinking his eyes open and realising he'd passed out some point.

"Oh, thank- Steve, can you hear me?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm going deaf just because I keep blacking out?" He wonders out loud, his contemplation doubling as an affirmation.

He hears a strained laugh, then blinks again, surprised to see Chief Hopper standing above him. Well, kneeling above him... Kneeling beside him, technically, since he's lying on the grass.

"The meeting-"

"Isn't as important as you," Hopper interrupts, and Steve is once again filled with confusion.

"I'm s-"

"Don't even think about apologising to me, kid."

"Yes, sir," Steve mumbles on autopilot.

Hopper's eyes widen and he opens his mouth only to change his mind and change his head, then change his mind again and cough. "You don't, uh, you can call me 'Hopper' I guess?"

Steve, confused beyond measure, mumbles another slurred 'yessir' before waking up to a mouthful of hairspray. Or rather, hairsprayed curls.

He figures he must have blacked out again at some point but he can't remember and he has bigger things to worry about so he attempts to fool his mind into thinking he doesn't really care about gaps in his mental timeline.

He coughs and Dustin jumps up before grinning in excitement. "I knew my magic touch could wake you up!"

Steve smiles as best as he can, thanking whatever lucky stars - or government mistakes - had brought Dustin into his life and ruffles the younger boy's hair, knowing it'll annoy him. "Thanks, Dusty."

"Steve?" He hears someone ask and turns to see Hopper at the door.

He's only just opened his mouth to... to try and say something, anything... when Hopper shakes his head. "Why did you go barefoot?"

Steve baulks at the question, having expected many things, this not being one of them. Thankfully, he's saved from answering when Dustin stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. "Can we get him some water first?"

An entire glass of water that may as well have been a vase because it takes him half an eternity to drink under the intense gaze of a worried Dustin later, he's 'allowed' to answer questions.

"I didn't have shoes," Steve mumbles.

"I know what barefoot means, kid." Hopper sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. "But why didn't you take any shoes?"

"I..." Steve shrugs, fighting away the image of his discarded shoe lying in a puddle because the last thing he wants to do is worry the Dustin who's staring at him with wide eyes. "I didn't want to go with only one shoe, that'd be stupid."

Just like he'd thought, Dustin laughs. He immediately coughs to try and hide it but the amusement is there nonetheless.

"Dustin, come on, everyone is looking for you, there's some creature with three heads attacking your team," Jonathan tells the younger of the 'hair brothers', hoping that's enough to convince him.

"See you, Steve-o!" Dustin smiles and wraps the teen in a quick embrace before darting off to save his team from a plastic monster.

"Steve?" Hopper asks, and his question is a given, considering Steve's newly bandaged feet.

"I had to get back."

Jonathan and Hopper both notice how he pointedly avoids meeting their gazes so Jonathan perches on the couch beside him and Hopper kneels in front of them with a smile.

"What was the rush? The meeting?"

Steve nods, swallowing. "Father... H- he said to always... Said to always be back before the str-streetlights turn o- off."

He doesn't notice his shivering until Jonathan wraps a blanket around his shaking shoulders.

Hopper shuts his eyes for a moment. "Why wasn't your d- father with you?"

But Steve is too far deep in his memories of racing with streetlights and climbing through windows to pay any attention. As usual, his subconscious is a mess and he finds himself seeing the man's casual expression through the window of his father's car once again, the ring glinting in his eyes and the smell of metal and blood and petrichor swirling like ghosts in his brain.

"Breathe Steve, breathe!" he hears someone yell as if through layers of oil and he shakes his head because that's so stupid, why wouldn't he be breathing and what kind of idiot forgets to breathe when everyone does it every day?

And then someone is pushing his head forwards and he opens his mouths and figures that he might, in fact, be the one who forgotten to breathe. He gasps, taking in as much air as possible and slamming his eyes shut as he exhales, trying to expel the tension in his muscles and the panic in his head.

But he can't dismiss the thought that he must be so weak, so awfully weak, to have fallen prey to such a petty detail - a ring - and missed a potentially life-changing meeting, not to mention he can't stop wondering why he'd forgotten to breathe because it's not like someone had taken away his ability to think but, really, it is a bit like that.

So it dawns on him with a jolt that he hasn't been thinking - not really - because he has but he's been thinking all the wrong things and not thinking about everything that requires his attention and that's not too different from not thinking at all. He groans, letting his head fall into his hands and screwing his eyes so hard he can see patterns that don't exist outside but he can't avoid the crushing realisation that he doesn't have control of his thoughts anymore, that he's grappling to be in charge of something much bigger than he can handle, that, no matter what he does, he simply isn't strong enough to overcome the relentless replays of the alleyway.

"You're going to get better."

Even with the accusatory voice in his head telling him he may as well give up, Steve can find a small solace in those softly whispered five words.

"Promise?" he can't help the quiet question escaping his lips and he half expects a scornful laugh or silence.

"I swear by everything I love," Jonathan promises and Steve smiles because he can now identify who's talking, which means he's more alert than before and that means progress of some sort.

"I promise you, kid, we're not letting you go through this alone."

This time, it's Hopper. He doesn't add a conditional and he doesn't make it seem like a chore and Steve's heart smiles at the thought of someone caring so much about him.

"Tha..." his throat betrays him by being too dry, too choked, too tight to let him answer properly.

Neither Jonathan nor Hopper care.

"I think you need some fresh clothes," Jonathan tells him, "and I have some stuff that's too big for me so it'll probably fit you."

Steve nods with a small smile on his face and tries to stand, his left ankle immediately screaming at him and sending pulses of pain up his entire leg.

He gasps and has to force himself not to panic as Hopper and Jonathan surge forwards to catch him, stopping him from getting far too intimate with the floor once again.

"It's okay, we've got you," Jonathan assures him kindly.

And he's not lying.

Jonathan is no more than a metre away at any given time for the next however long it takes Steve to shower and change clothes - he might not be panicking anymore but he still can't focus enough to catalogue the passing of time.

Steve would love to say he can remember Jonathan being there with him but he can't, he just knows the other boy was there. He doesn't even remember what the soap looked like or what colour the towel was because it's like he's peering through a foggy glass into his own life and he can't make anything out even though he's doing it all and he's never been so alienated from his own self.

"What do you want to eat?" Jonathan asks eventually.

Steve frowns. "I'm not..."

"Steve, you haven't eaten for more than twenty four hours." Jonathan interrupts. "Eating something isn't really an option."

He can't decide between smiling at the thought of Jonathan paying enough attention to care and scowling at the thought of having to actually try and eat something because that just seems impossible.

"I have an idea."

"First time for everything," Steve mutters without thinking, immediately blinking in shock and turning to the other brunet with an apologetic look only to find Jonathan grinning widely, almost proudly.

"You any good at baking?"

"Who?"

"Didn't take you for a cannibal, Harrington." Jonathan winks.

Steve gapes; he's never seen Jonathan wink before.

"Too far?" Jonathan asks sheepishly, rubbing his neck, and Steve is shaking his head before he can second guess himself because, unless he's majorly wrong, Jonathan had just done something totally out of the norm just to make him feel a little better and that's something he appreciates more than he can articulate.

"N- No..." Steve manages after a miniature eternity.

Jonathan smiles. "I think we have some baking ingredients left over from Will's school project."

"Okay?"

Jonathan raises an eyebrow. "Catch up, airhead." he gently nudges Steve's arm, clarifying: "We're going to try our hands at baking."

"Why?" the one word is all Steve can get out, too confused to even worry. Which, when he thinks about it a second later, was probably Jonathan's aim, or, at least, something similar to his aim.

The eldest Byers brother smiles softly, sadly, slowly. "Mom says it's a good way to take your mind off things."

Steve clenches his fists. "Don't you... Don't you have study- uh, isn't there a test?"

"You're crazy if you think I care more about grades than I care about you."

Nothing, not even the wholly uncharacteristic winking, could have prepared him for something as genuine as that answer.

The other teenager seems to figure out his muddled thoughts before Steve himself can because Jonathan says, "And, no, I haven't told anyone."

Nodding, Steve tries to understand what motives Jonathan could possibly have for helping him to such an extent but he comes up blank, blank other than the conclusion that he does in fact also care for the other boy in one way or another. Said care is probably the main reason why he agrees to be all but pulled back down the stairs and through the house, towards the kitchen.

By the time they've made it to the kitchen, Steve's decided he's clearly not dreaming but he might as well be since this whole thing seems surreal and much better than the nightmare of his thoughts.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

[wildefire]

Can’t sleep? Fight.

A/N: Hey Guys! This is my first fanfic uploaded to tumblr, Hope that you like it!

Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: ??? People Fighting, Swearing, um, I think that’s it.

It had all started with the smoke alarm going off in the middle of my beauty sleep. The damned thing had gone off, right as I was about to fall asleep. At three AM, I was fucking done. After throwing my smoke alarm at the wall -the fourth one destroyed that month- I was beyond angry. After trying to sleep the next hour and a half, I gave up at four-thirty. Throwing on some socks and sleep shorts, I trudged to the kitchen in a sleepless stupor.

“Miss Emily, I believe that you should be sleeping,” Said the AI FRIDAY.

“I would love too FRIDAY, but, the fire alarm in my room went off.”

“Unfortunate, Miss Emily.”

“You have no idea, FRIDAY.”

After finishing my conversation with the AI, I did sleep deprived shuffle from my room, into the elevator, and into the kitchen five floors above me.

_________________

In the following three minutes that followed, waiting for my coffee to be done, I went back down to my room to get my phone and earbuds. I waled back to the elevator, and took it into the kitchen, singing and shimming my shoulders to “You’re Welcome” from Moana.

“I see what’s happening here, you’re face-to-face with greatness and its strange, you don’t even know how you feel, it’s adorable…”

Seeing that the coffee was done brewing, I excitedly got the creamer out. It was pumpkin spice flavored. Tony Stark liked me enough to spoil me with my favorite creamer for my Birthday, and year round.

I poured the creamer in, waiting until the clouds of white goodness were barely visible to stop pouring. Taking a spoon from the drawer next to me, I hum to the new song that’s playing while stirring. Humming French words, not knowing them well enough to sing them, I carry my mug over to the couch, where I sit and drink my coffee, watching the city below me, still alive, and most just now waking up to get ready for work. I find a blanket, and wrap it around myself, feeling chilly.

The sky is already getting that baby pink hue as the Sun rises and the Moon sets, I start to feel sleepy, I put my coffee down, and laid my head on the armrest, and fall asleep.

_________________

Steve walked into the kitchen at six forty-five, to eat and make the coffee before the rest of the team woke up, to find that the coffee had already been made and was piping hot. He wondered who had been up? Maybe Barton- the man might’ve started to do something that the team didn’t know about. It couldn’t be Nat, he hadn’t seen her up before eight unless she was on a mission. Lang, and Stark were still out, due to a thirty-three hour lab session. Vision was always with Wanda, and Wanda wouldn’t wake up for a long time. Bruce was probably still asleep. Emily was probably passed out in her room after the workout that he and Nat put her through. Sam? No. He was in D.C. Bucky, maybe? Steve hadn’t seen Bucky since he was sent out to Wakanda to give a message to T’challa. He might’ve gotten back. Shaking his head, Steve poured himself a mug of black coffee, sipping appreciatively. Deciding to wait a little on his workout, he goes into the living room to drink his coffee and is met with a sight- Emily, sleeping on the couch, curled up, with the coffee on the table next to her. He chuckles, and she shoots up, onto her feet, in a defensive pose.

_________________

I hear a chuckle, and out of pure instinct and habit, I go into my defensive pose. My two brothers would always pull shit on me before I woke up, so, I became a light sleeper. After looking around and realizing that I needed my glasses, I see a blur behind the couch. The blur is tall, and hunky… Steve, or maybe Bucky. But Bucky was sent out on a mission to Wakanda yesterday. So, probably Steve.

“Captain Rogers? Is that you? I can’t really see at the moment.”

The deep timbre of his voice strikes my ears as he chuckles. Again. “Yeah, its me. Why can’t you see?”

“I don’t have my glasses with me.”

“I can see that, but I thought that you had twenty-twenty vision?”

“I do, but when I haven’t had much sleep I don’t have the best eyesight.”

As I talk, his face come more into focus. He has a slight frown on his face, eyebrows scrunched together.

I open my mouth to say something else, and then someone else walks in.

“Well, if it ain’t the two lovebirds! Who knew that Emily would get up this early?”

“Fuck you Tony! That was a mission, and if you don’t recall, IT WAS MISTLETOE! Placed there by you, if I’m remembering correctly!”

“One, you can do that any day sweetheart”- I huffed at this- “And two, Cap doesn’t like that kind of language. And three, you can’t prove that was me. It could’ve been Nat. Or Barton. You’ll never know.”

“Cap! A little help here,” I yell, and turn to the Captain for help.

“Hun, this is between you and Tony. I’m just here for the fun. Meet me in the training room in thirty. I expect you to be able to hold me off for a little while today.”

“I am not going to training today. No fucking way. I’m exhausted.”

“Thats your fault.”

“No it isn’t! The fire alarm in my room went off and it wouldn’t stop until I took it off of it’s mount and smashed it.”

“YOU WHAT? YOU SMASHED MY PROTOTYPE?”

I turned around. “I COULDN’T SLEEP YOU ASSHOLE!”

“I DON’T CARE! YOU JUST DON’T DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!”

“YES, YOU DO! IF YOU CANNOT SLEEP, YOU GET RID OF THE PROBLEM OR RESOLVE IT. I RESOLVED IT.”

“Whatever. You’re cooking for the team for the rest of the week.”

“Tony, I’ve been cooking for almost seventeen years.This’ll be fine.”

“That’s great.”

“It’s not a punishment Tony.”

“Sweetheart, you better impress me, I’m getting tired of takeout.”

“Tony…”

________________________________

Thirty minutes later, I was in the training room, muttering about sleeplessness and failing tests. I was dressed in blue spandex running shorts -since I hated long pants- and a grey sports bra. I flipped my head, bringing my caramel colored hair into a high ponytail, tying the hair tie tight. The captain still wasn’t there yet, which meant that I could do warm up stretches before he got there.

Tugging the waistband of my shorts up a little, I bent over to touch my toes. On a normal day, I would’ve been able to fold all the way over. But I was sore and my hamstrings were tight, so I was only able to reach my toes with my fingertips. Holding the stretch until I felt my hamstrings loosen, I brought myself up, and slowly reached backwards until I felt my back crack. Shaking myself out, I got onto my butt, going into butterfly stretch. My knees could always reach the floor, regardless of how sore I was. Bringing my left shin under me, I straighten my right leg, and lean back. I start to feel the burn on the top of my thigh, and stop when the pain turns into a stretch. I groan with the the way that my muscles are being stretched, bringing my head back and closing my eyes.

The next thing I hear is the sound of the Captain’s voice, shouting “BOO!” Surprised, and scared out of my focus, I jump up and headbut his nose, causing him to fall backwards.

“Oh my god, Captain Rogers? Captain? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Emily. See? Look, no blood,” He says, pointing to his nose.

“I am so sorry Captain. You scared the sh- stuff out of me.”

“I can tell. Finish stretching, it’s going to be a long and rough session for you today.”

“Why?”

“Because Bucky’s back. And you just head butted me in the nose. I also want to know if you can take the both of us at the same time.”

“Steve, you could not have said that to make it more sexual if you tried, could you?”

Part Two

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