#sorry to out of touch thursday but ive been waiting for this for YEARS

[deangirldisease]

happy fucking john winchester got punched in the face thursday everybody!!!!!!

[expensive-rainbows]

cw: SA, intrusive thoughts

ok so i know ive told yall some of this but idk how much ive told yall. so bassically three years ago there was this man who would hold the door for my bus since we always got there late so we would get locked out. keep in mind i know i shouldnt feel obligated to share what i was wearing but i cant help but feel that might be part of the reason why he targeted me. my favorite shirt was a sheer blue shirt that you could see my bra through if you looked close enough. this was during winter and i took my coat off on the bus since i didnt want to deal with it at school. he would ask me if i was a Eskimo (im mexican) and i would tell him no and keep walking. he had jolly ranchers and would give everyone some, but he gave me more than everyone else. he would give me double sometimes triple what everyone else got. i found it creepy so i never ate them, i just put them in my backpack and threw them out at the end of the year. everyday, when he held the door for me, and i watched how he treated everyone else and it was only me, he would take up more and more of the doorway everyday. like the first day he would take up a little, the next he would take up a little more, until he got to the point where he wasnt touching me (since im pretty sure its illegal) but that i knew he could if he wanted to. at the same time he would wait outside my fifth hour while we all waited in a line since my teacher went to the bathroom before class. he started by standing in the center of the hallway, and didnt leave until i made eye contact with him. everyday he got closer, until again he didnt touch me, but he was less than a foot away, and he had me cornered. i knew he could do whatever he wanted and no one would see. this lasted about two weeks and ended on december 16, 2023. I remember because it was a thursday and i was so happy the next day when he disappeared. idk if it was just this or something else that ive blocked out, but im terrified of men. like just in general. its been three years and i cant look my band teacher in the eye. ive had him for three years. i couldnt hug my dad for the first three months. my dad is one of the nicest people ive ever met. i know he would never knowingly take advantage of someone. i cant talk to my english teacher alone, i need my friend to go with me to ask to go to the bathroom. but dont worry this is a happy story. so sorry but im gonna give yall even more context. so my school take all the music kids of my grade to a like smaller amusement park, which isnt near us, its a good drive to get there. its kind of a big deal. plus we have one in our town, but its a lot smaller than the one we went to. so anyway the trip was today, and the band group took a picture together. i was in the back row, and idk if the guys in front of me knew i was there or how close i was to them but i was pretty close. like i could see the creases on the back of one of their necks. i could smell him. (he had some sort of cologne on, not axe body spray but close) but i didnt freak out or anything. like i noticed, but i didnt go home and have a panic attack or anything, i wasnt convinced that he was gonna r@pe me, nothing. i was fine. do you have any idea how long its been since i could say that. since i could say that i was fine and mean it. i didnt have a panic attack, didnt hurt myself (i did break my streak a little big ago, but thats because since were at the end of the school year im very sleep deprived and i have exams and i started working plus taekwondo so im busy and tired. and when im tired i take everything personally) its been three years since i could say i was fine and truly mean it. i still get a little weird around guys/men, but its getting better. now its only physical proximity, i can look them in the face! i know this probably sounds sad but im honestly happy. also quick question.

[lovestrucksuggestion]

hey, sorry if this is too much or smth, but i really don't wanna tell anything to my friends i fearike it'd be "too real" AND OBVIOUSLY I WANT IT TO BE REAL BUT, i don't know, i feel like i'll jinx or fuck it up somehow if i tell it;;

hello, again, okay so, a few weeks back we had this thesis project 6 per group and ive had converstaions w all of them except for 1.

by this point i was lamenting over a past love, we werent necessarily together since we were like, idk 14 or smth when it happened and its been 7 years, we kinda drifted apart after graduation since i thought 'it wouldnt last anyway' and i kept rejecting their advances for a year or two, but i still liked them;;; anyway back in 2020 we got in touch again and i told them that i still liked them and i was just dumb and all that and they seemed to return my advances and ofc i asked if they were comfortable and not just going w the flow yknow and they said yes so.

i confessed and they said not yet cause of school stuff but they do like me still and so i said id wait, THEN it was all okay since we joke and all that but they always seem to reject when i ask them directly about us or like even just to meet up or smth, and ofc i get it so i try not to bother them too much until valentine's rolls in and they post smth on ig with them and their friends and theres this girl with a solo shot of her being goofy and smiling and i just.

idk i took it as a sign to stop since he always used to do that w me before so yeh.

and then like with school i just got lost in all it and directed every ounce of my passion so we finished some stuff quite early, theres only 2 big ones of them we needed to do so a member suggested to split the work between us six. one of thems easier than the other so i got grouped with the guy i havent talked to, kinda scared abt it but all was fine. i added him (lets call him graham) on facebook so we could talk in messenger about planning what to do and all that, then after i found that he's friends with another group member who happened to be someone im close with, kinda AND they messaged me so i asked whats up cause i thought it was abt the project and they reply with smth along the lines of "nothing, graham's just rlly overjoyed since u addrd him cause he likes u" AND IM WHAT CAUSE IM P SURE WEVE NEVER MET then he follows it up w "ure his type, smart and hardworking" AND I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO TELL THAT IM A FALSE ADVERTISEMENT CAUSE IM RLLY NOT ALL THAT AND IM SCARED OF DISAPPOINTING ANYONE

anyway they let it be and i didnt think much of it cause maybe theyre just messing around yknow so nothing much happened, we finished the project and everything's all right until we were grouped for another thing through our society/club whatevr and i was kinda nervous since its my first time meeting them and everything was fun actually turns out it was graham's bday last tuesday so i greeted him and we joked a bit cause wednesday's the club thingy, i didnt even know what he looked like since his pfp's from when he was a kid

wednesday rolls in and im in the library with a friend, a mutual friend of ours and he said hello to me and i was so happy somehow??? I DONT REALLY GET IT MYSELF I USUALLY TAKE SO LONG TO ACCLIMATIZR TO SOMEONE BUT LIKE THE CLUB THINGY WENT WELL AND WE WERE JOKING BY THE END OF THE DAY AND I JUST, i think i like him as well?? he even asked to take a picture with me he seemed so nervous i wanted to hug him I ACTUALLY THOUGHT ITD BE OUR WHOLE GROUP IN THE CLUB but it turns out it wasnt so !!!!!!

thursday comes and we messaged a bit (he chatted first, abt the thesis) we were in a seminar and i was a bit late that day so i was at the back and our other classmates r upfront w him so never really met, until a friend of mine and i were going home and we MET THEM ON THE TRAIN ISTG MY HEART WAS JUMPING UNTIL I GOT HOME SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT WHILE WALKING

okay sorry but like, tldr, im a bit afraid that i only "like" him cause he liked me first, yknow after i waited for the previous person and evrything for so long and receiving little to nothing ++ i think his expectation of me's kinda high im neither smart nor hardworking im just anxious all the time so i have to do my work quick or else i'll die and some part of me's still doubting his feelings for me as just a prank cause nsjdhbf idk im not really pretty too so whats up why is this happrning but he's so fucking cute (generally) and i am falling as well and im scared cause we'd be graduating in a year so what if this also doesnt end quite well and i end up losing a friend?

i kinda also wanna just come up to him and invite him for a date but yeh :( and yesterday my phone died and i was stoked to meet him but he wasnt at uni so i was kinda sad then i find out the previous person i like messaged me and idk they were kinda flirty and i feel bad if i leave them again cause ive done it once and i was only left with regrets so what if im just repeating history aaaa its so hard to like manage everything too if graham and i somehow manage to be together im not great at balancing things what if i let him slip away or smth

again sorry for this i just wanted to know what other people think i really wanna shoot my shot at the same time i feel like im a people pleaser so yknow what if im just doing this cause of attention or smth idk huhu thanks in adavmce if u answer this but no hatd feelings if u dont thank u boo

Hello, you seem very stressed out! Please take several deep breaths, put on some calming music and remember that none of this is life or death.

First of all, you're right to let this past love go, it's simply not in the cards and I'm proud of you for recognizing that. Throw the whole man away, if he makes you feel bad(even if he's not doing it on purpose!) you don't need that drama.

I'm not going to diagnose you with anything over the internet, especially not based on one interaction, but I will say that in this ask specifically, you are exhibiting pretty high levels of anxiety and worry that it might be good to speak to a professional about. Your university should have free mental health services, if you have insurance you can call and ask what providers they cover, and failing that, there are many therapists and psychiatrists who offer sliding scale coverage for low income patients.

Alright, now that's done, what needs to happen here is something that I know you will not like, but is pretty much mandatory-you need to have a conversation with Graham. It's okay if it turns out you only like that he's interested in you, and when you get to know him you're less into him. You're not asking him to marry you after all. It's also okay if you're not smart or funny or hardworking (I think you're being too hard on yourself, but even so, it's okay).

If you talk with him and express your interest, you can set a boundary on how you like to be complimented(i.e., low pressure compliments that don't comment on your abilities) and specify if you want something casual just to see how you vibe. Even if you graduate, you might stay together, or you might not. You definitely won't know unless you try.

Also, who cares if you want attention???? you're human, that's totally natural. You're not gonna go to Needy Jail for it.

All that to say:

go to therapy

figure out what you want (in general and from Graham specifically. You can do this in therapy)

stop talking to past love

start talking to Graham about what you want

remember that even if things end up less than ideal, it's okay

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven��t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

[rosies-pastimes]

hi rosie. it has been a while >-<

a big hug for support! send packages of love to you right now

school's at a very busy period for me at the moment, but I'll push through! you got this too rosie ~~

dfgfgh haha no I haven't 👉👈 pancake and sugar cookie are really really adorable

why do you have to write a love song T-T what kind of homework is that 😫 I feel you

ahh you didn't make all of the fences yet... right? and oh another design :o

yess I have saved it somewhere safer now + may will probably heed your advice and write it down somewhere else too

*holds phone delicately* take care of the screen...

oh t-the creampuff- that flustered me real bad /~\

yes yes they looked yummyy (understandable why they are keqing's favourite)

that does remind me that I should go look for some new hoodies that will be comfy hehe cuddle buddy ahhh

it is a very nice colour!! um um um I always say blue haha but there are so many shades...

sdfgfdfg it's okayy (I've never watched either but I do know of them! more ohshc but still not a lot)

I cannot believe we are already halfway into the third last month of 2021 :')

- 🎮

i decided to put my replies in a readmore cuz theyre so long omg-

AND I EXTENDED THAT WHILE IM SORRY 😭😭

shit happened and monday - wednesday felt like i was living a fever dream, and thursday was spent with my extended family and my social battery ran tf out til friday BUT IM HERE NOW IAJIXSJ COPIUM TINGZ 😗✌️

ʕっ•���•ʔっ sends love and support aswell WE GOT THIS 💪👁️👄👁️

THEY ARE!! I SAW THIS TIKTOK WHERE SOMEONE TOOK OFF THEIR HATS AND PANCAKE'S HAIR WAS SO FLUFFY 😭😭 IT WAS SO CUTE and is now buried underneath all my favorited videos 🥲-

it was for a creative writing class 🤷‍♀️ i was supet poetic for 2 stanzas and then the chorus flopped it wasnt funny to me 🥲

i may have ran out of wood and got diatracted while farming for it so no u havent done all the fences yet hwehwe 👉👈 nor have i touched my teapot because ive decided to get the new inazuma thingy before i do 😌 AND THE GLOWY PLANTS IM IN LOVE 🥺

the real screen has a little wittle itty bitty crack from when i dropped it down the stairs and i wasnt using the phone case and theres a little nook with no protective glass protecting it 🥲 take care of your screens kids 🥲

child ➖👄➖ of ➖👄➖ the ➖👄➖ lord i had to put my phone down and take a deep breath-

it's been kinda warm here in my city, so hoodies are not an option 🥲 i cant wait for rainy season again 😭😭 cuddle buddies 👌👌

blue is like, so peaceful and calming 😭 it reminds me of the ocean 🥲 i desperately 🥲 want to 🥲 go visit 🥲 BUT CANT 🥲

im not sure if ive asked this before but do you have a favorite anime?? omg im awful HAHAHA

3 more months and its 2022 and i stg if i have to suffer ANOTHER YEAR IN THE HOUSE I WILL RIOT I HAVENT SMACKED MY FRIENDS FOR THEIR DECISIONS IN SO LONG 😭

on the bright side ill be 18 in january so adult tingz at last HAHAHA

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Finally, the chapter is here. It took a while to get it done and it's been a struggle in some ways.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it despite long waiting :)

Your comments mean the world to me even though I don't always have time to answer each of you. <3

BIG thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 She's truly a gem and has saved this chapter from miserable failure. I can't give you enough credits, Anne. But I'm glad to have you on this journey with me.

Part II will follow shortly after this one, possibly on Thursday :)

P.S. For the better atmosphere I recommend you to put on Dire Straits song "Romeo and Juliet" :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJmER493F4U

A link for AO3.

Enjoy! ♥

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

                                   CHAPTER IV: Lovestruck. Part I

"I'm taking ye on a wee trip, Claire." Jamie stood in the doorway of the locker room, car keys in his right hand. "Ye need fresh air, ye look like yer about to fall down".

My mind froze for a second taken aback by his (dashing as always) appearance.

"Jamie, I can't. I -"

He did not let me finish raising his hand up, gesturing me to be quiet.

"There is no 'I can't' or 'No'. I dinna accept that." He stepped closer. "Maybe I am no doctor but I still can see when someone's worn out."

To be very honest he was right. In the last week, I’ve had ten major surgeries, several new patients to care for. I promised Terry to fill in for her and worked two additional shifts. And just thirty minutes ago I finished partial colectomy. I felt completely drained.

“But what about our… date?” I looked at him trying to find my keys buried in the depths of the bag. The word “date” still sounded strange, and sometimes inappropriate for me (I did not know if we were dating or having a friendship with benefits).

“A wee change of plan.” Jamie clicked his tongue, his hand laid at the back of my neck. “This will be our date then. Just ye, me and some nature.” 

He pressed a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear. That soft, tender one that made me wonder, could this be forever? Or will we end up staying just Claire and just Jamie having fun?

"Take her will ye! She willna listen to me," smirked Geillis. "I'll take care of yer wee cheetie while yer away. So dinna fash, lovies.”

I rolled my eyes. Jamie coughed clearly trying to hide a laugh.

“I promise I willna be angry at ye for ruining our cinema time tradition. Just next time it’s my turn to choose a movie”. And just like that, grabbing the house keys from my hands she was gone.

“Tell me there is a hot shower where you’re taking me and I can borrow one of your gym's t-shirts for sleeping?” My head dropped back, fitting perfectly in the space between his collarbone and jaw.

Jamie’s hands circled around my waist locking just above my navel.

“There is a bath, Sassenach. An improvement to yer wee shower.” He nuzzled his nose against my hair. “And I can assure ye, ye willna need a sleeping shirt.”

A habit of falling asleep almost anywhere was my superpower. After we got into Jamie’s crossover Peugeot with Tesco groceries for our breakfast I immediately dozed off. The last time I sat in his car was two weeks ago, exactly three days after our first real date as Jamie called it. 

Appearing at the hospital without any warning, he volunteered to bring me home after work. Though the GPS in Jamie’s phone had announced that the distance between Braid Road and Lauderdale street was just fifteen minutes I didn’t walk out of the car for at least thirty. I laughed needing to admit that sex in the car is not as comfortable as it looks on TV. Jamie frantically searched the glovebox for a condom while creating a mess of tissues, mints, and papers. I struggled with the front seat that didn’t want to go down. Though in the end, nothing was an obstacle. Later that evening as I prepared for bed, I welcomed the hickey starting to bloom bright purple on my neck.

I felt very much cozy in his car (despite previous activity here). Jamie had turned the seat warmer on (making fun of me for not handling Scottish weather “Ye English, weak creatures”). Shamelessly, I stole his coat to cover my always-cold-legs. The soft blur of Mark Knopfler’s voice on the radio and passing lights were the ones that made me sleepy. I awoke sometime later, noticing the familiar scenery disappeared and the darkness of the countryside had eaten all the electric lights. Jamie’s hand rested on my knee, his thumb drawing patterns that he only knew. He had a dreamy, faraway look about him. There was no GPS this time. Jamie knew his way, leading us through the Highlands where the history was almost palpable. Like that time (four days after car sex) when I had come back from a late shift at the hospital and called him.

It was the day I seemed to be annoyed with everything and everybody. I felt annoyed with Geillis and her endless discussion about her latest sexual encounter. With Adso for weeing on my fluffy bathroom rug. Even my touchpad on my phone betrayed me! Wasting my time on my coffee break with coffee that tasted like an old sock. Does it ever stop raining? And Jamie left for a four day trip to Broch Mordha. But most of all I was annoyed with myself for coming to the realization that I actually missed him.

I was exhausted. Too tired to cook, I ate three spoons of quinoa cold straight out of the fridge. Falling into bed, I felt each sore muscle in my back as I stared into the ceiling for minutes or possibly hours. I managed to get out of my clothes and just crawl under the duvet not showered, naked, with makeup on. Breaking all of my three own rules.

Jamie’s number was dialled in seconds without any hesitation (my fourth rule was broken as well). He picked up after five long beeps (I actually counted).

“Sassenach?” His voice deep with sleep.

Christ. What a smart one you are, Beauchamp. Normal people sleep at one am. He was asleep, clearly.

“Claire?” He shifted, readjusting position, sheets rustling in the background. “If someone abducted ye and yer calling me now to come and get ye, ye gotta let me know. Otherwise, I really would like to get back to my warm pillow. Of course, it’s not as nice as when yer with me but…”

There was banter in his voice but suddenly I felt ashamed, foolish for calling him like that. (Hoping for what exactly? )

"I’m sorry. I did not realize it was so late." 

The incoherent mumbling poured out of me then. I was telling him all about how annoyed I was all day, about the rug I probably would have to throw away, how can’t I sleep now and a million other things before he finally shushed me.

“I miss ye too, Sassenach.”

My mind stilled then. The warmth rising up somewhere inside, behind my breastbone and running down to my cold fingers and toes, creating the sun under my skin.

“Do ye want me to tell ye a story to sleep?”

He told me then all about ancient castles, about the brave Highlanders and the battles they fought, Jacobite rebellions, mythical creatures and tales of the mountains. He was a born storyteller.  Charming in fact. 

I had fallen asleep feeling his presence even though he was away.

Jamie looked like he belonged here. With the mountains and grassy moors. With Knopfler’s voice singing "You and me, babe, how about it?".

“I did not know you were Dire Straits fan”. The smile crept in and took possession of my lips as I whispered my silent observation. His eyes fixed on me for mere seconds but long enough to drown in the blue depths of them once again. He looked at me in a way that made me shiver, made me feel a growing warmth mixed with lust that went deep down to the marrow of my bones. The navy of his slightly slanted eyes dug inside and stamped a mark at the very bottom of my core. That same look he gave me when I sat only-knickers-on at his bed legs crossed some days ago.

I could feel the blue marks getting born under my skin at the tender layer of paleness on my thighs where he held me just minutes ago (the bitterness of vague pain as his fingers pressed onto the tops of my flesh and the hot wave of my release making my stomach turn). Jamie’s place was a small studio on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It felt half empty and lonely, screamed for a touch of coziness. He’d explained he stays mostly in Broch Mordha with family. After his mom died a couple of years ago there was an aching hole and need for them to be together.

Jamie fell silent when we stood in the shower, hot water washing off the memories of my own parent's death. We slept. Together, limbs tangled under the rumpled sheets, Jamie’s warm hands soothing the marks he had left on me. That morning I’d said to him I wanted it easy and fun. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself. I want us to live in this moment. Just Claire and Jamie. No promises no regrets.”

“ I wouldna wish to hurt ye, Sassenach. Not ever.”

Then he stated more than asked, “It’s just Claire and Jamie having fun, see where it leads us, aye?”

For two nights, I dreamt about him. Of touching him. Of his swollen lip from my kiss. Of the way his breath hitched when he whispered “Claire”. I was painfully, utterly aware of him, of his presence making residence somewhere deep inside me. I lived with his smell (sharp and clean, hay and crisp air) which seemed to be everywhere, in each cell of mine and at the back of my throat.

Now my life consisted of flirty texting nonstop (I did not know I was able to do that being 32 years old anymore), of occasional Skype sessions when Jamie was away to Broch Mordha (me with a messy curly bun and old pajamas, glass of wine in one hand and Adso snuggling beside me; Jamie bare chest, bloody furnace he was, with whisky and his nieces and nephews popping to the screen from time to time). 

One of those evenings young Jamie had asked his uncle who I was. (“that doctor lady ye talk a lot with, Ma says ye fancy her, is she yer girlfriend?”)

My heart skips a bit then waiting for Jamie’s answer. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hear it (as if I hoped for something more, just drop it, Beauchamp). By now I’ve spent enough time with Jamie to know that his face could not hide any emotion. He would be the worst liar on Earth and there’s nothing that could be done about it. It was all there. Written on his face and easy for anyone to read. The tips of his ears became scarlet red as he shot a look to me on the screen and then back to his nephew who now was waving to me.

“Well, I do fancy Claire, aye.”

Before my smitten mind could conjure up any appropriate response wee Maggie was in the screen, climbing onto Jamie’s lap and pointing her little finger at me.

“Will ye marry her then, uncle Jamie?”

I choked on my wine and nearly spilled it on peacefully sleeping Adso.

“Should I call her doctor Claire, uncle Jamie?” Little girl shifted on Jamie’s laps looking up at him.

“Noooo, we should call her Auntie Claire!” Her brother grinned back.

“Yer wee devils, ye’ll make a lady uncomfortable and we dinna want that, right? Let yer uncle talk in peace. Jenny, mo cridhe?”

It was the voice of Brian Fraser. It was hard not to recognize as it had the same soft blur to it as Jamie’s. I haven’t seen him, neither the rest of Jamie’s family. Only his nephew and niece. It was a territory which was sort of forbidden to trespass. Because if we did it would mean we have something more than just a fling. The truth was we both did not know what it was between us. And what we wanted it to be?

“ C’mon. Get off yer uncle, the two of ye. There’s warm milk and shortbread cookies in the kitchen.” Jenny’s hands appeared on the screen helping the children off Jamie’s lap.

Of course, Jamie talked about me with his family. I did not know what he’d shared and how much they knew but I was grateful for them for respecting my private boundaries. I wasn’t ready to meet them but also there was never a discussion of such a possibility. It’s just that they knew about the existence of Claire Beauchamp as I knew Jamie’s family was very important to him. It was enough.

When we arrived at our final destination, it was pitch dark outside. On the way here I saw the sign that said Loch Lomond. We stood in front of the grey stoned cottage surrounded by mountains peeking out in the darkness. The stillness and quietness of the place was disturbed by the only sound of car engine still running on. A narrow stone walkway with shrubs of French Hydrangea and Azalea alongside led straight to a big wooden door. “Taigh Beann” it said at the very top of it, carved into the bronze plate that hung above.

“Gaelic.” Jamie explained setting our groceries bags down. “It means House of the Mountains.”

The inside reminded me of a house of my grandparents where I spent many summers until the age of five. It was filled with all kinds of vases and figurines, large, dusty paintings of nature in gold frames, books of all imaginable kinds. The old, burgundy patterned rug laid in the living room where I squealed happily to find a fireplace. In the centre stood big brown leather couch the kind I hated in the summer because it made my skin stick to it. In the corner where green velvet armchair nestled, we found an oak round table. The bedroom was small but light. The bed was centered under a glorious skylight offering the promise of a magnificent view of a starry night sky. But the main attraction was the bathroom. My mouth dropped open and I grabbed Jamie’s hand in excitement. What I saw was stunningly beautiful. The floor was lined with marble tiles, the windows extended from floor to ceiling and ran the length of the wall. Imagine what breathtaking scenery might be outside. The centerpiece of the room was a large clawfoot bathtub big enough for two.

“I told ye there’s an improvement to yer shower, Sassenach” Jamie winked leaving me to stand astonished by the view.

Sometime later I sat in the armchair that Jamie had moved for me to the fireplace (saying that I probably lived in Spain or Greece in my previous life). He himself retreated to the kitchen with a promise of dinner. I watched the flames dance and collide together all the same as we did. We’ve known each other for the past four weeks but sometimes it felt like a lifetime. 

Our days together consisted of talking about everything and nothing, snuggling up on my couch watching Netflix, of Jamie cuddling Adso all the time. Of me ordering takeaways and only cooking breakfasts in case if Jamie stayed for the night. We used to hit the pubs once a week and get obnoxiously drunk. Then, of course, there was sex. And some more sex. We were travelling back and forth between my apartment and his studio. Jamie had fixed something in my car after he had driven it once cursing that I could have killed myself and how on earth I did not hear that sound? His toothbrush that we picked up together at Boots now lived in my bathroom and my pink cat pajamas took a residence in his closet. At the times we were not together my phone buzzed every other hour. We talked so much that I had to consider having a second mobile phone not to let my private life intervene with work. And suddenly now it struck me. What is going on Beauchamp? What has happened to you?

“I don’t like it.”  My fingers typed a text hitting the button Send to Geillis.

Three dots appeared.

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ye mean what he has in his pants? I thought it was all perfect till now…”

Before I could reply to her in a hateful manner another two texts appeared on the screen.

“Did he bring ye to a dark forest and now ye need help to escape? What was that movie about serial killer we watched..?”

“All joking aside, what’s wrong, Claire?”

My teeth sunk into the bottom lip as I tried to conclude what I felt. Control. There it was. I was losing it. Control over the situation, my feelings, over myself. Suddenly all my life always ordered and stable went down the hill adjusting to one James Fraser. I didn’t realize just till now how much I allowed him to creep under my skin in such a short time. Usual Claire wouldn’t let anyone take her away to some trip on a whim. At least I would have bartered with him or set my conditions.

A painful lump in my throat seemed to travel down and settle around my heart squeezing it. I thought there was actual physical pain. I knew what made me feel so insecure. It was the way Jamie made me feel. Safe, cherished, loved (?). He was always there. Ready to be my strength and help. My safe place to come back to, where all my masks would come off and my vulnerable self stands. 

Like the time I caught a cold but have been so busy I had no time even to take any medicine.

Geillis dropped a pharmacy bag on my lap with a smirk on her face. “That’s from yer laddie. I dinna recall Frank ever did it to ye.” Inside there was a box of paper tissues, lozenges for sore throat, a box of Theraflu, and a little jar that looked like a jam with a yellow sticky note on it.

“I’m sure yer to busy being wrists-deep into a human that ye dinna have time to get any medicine. Even Jenny heard yer cough over the phone yesterday. Btw, that’s her handmade raspberry jam, especially for ye. I couldna get it to ye myself, have business at the brewery. Take care. Xxx.”

I grabbed a tissue from the box pretending I had a runny nose but in truth, there was a swell of tears. Geillis only smiled and left me alone staring at the bag Jamie put together for me.

Or the time when I had to cancel our date being summoned to work.

There were times I felt confident in what I was doing. But there were moments when even years of studying and experience did not give me enough confidence facing the difficult surgeries. I was half ready for the theatre play we were going to visit when our plans got interrupted. I had to be in the surgery for repair of aneurysm. Calling Jamie and mumbling “Sorry” every other second I could not stop myself from letting him know that I was actually anxious.

“There also might be a loss of blood flow to the legs from a blood clot…”

" Ye'll do just fine, Sassenach. Dinna fash. Ye have done this before, right?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But you can never guess possible complications and…” I sighed getting into my car. “Do ye think I am a bad surgeon?”

“I dinna think that, Claire. I ken that yer an excellent one. And ye shouldna ever doubt yerself. How long will it take?”

“ Three to five hours.”

“ I’m verra proud of ye, Sassenach.”

Despite my worries, the surgery went smooth. The patient was sent to ICU and was stable. I felt if the train ran over me. It was 6 am by the time I finally made it out of the hospital. Jamie’s car was standing outside and I rubbed my eyes thinking I’m imagining it. I wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached the car. “How long have you been here?”

Jamie took a sip of coffee, handing me a paper Starbucks cup.

“About two and a half hours I suppose. Didna want to miss ye.”

“Oh Jamie” I bit my lip and locked arms around his neck, my head dropped to his chest. “You didn’t need to do it but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, I did.” His lips softly brushed over my temple. “How did it go?”

“Very well.” I whispered feeling my eyelids burn with the exhaustion of doing surgery for four hours.

Despite my weak protests, he brought me home. Sent me into the shower and by the time I was done he’d made scrambled eggs for me, watched that I ate all of it, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up Adso’s litter tray and finally put me to bed as if I was a child. On the edge of sleep, I reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. “Where did you come from? Surely you’re not real”

He chuckled catching my hand to plant a kiss on each finger. “As far as I ken Ellen and Brian Frasers are the ones to blame for my existence. Sleep now, mo duinne.”

Another text from Geillis popped on the screen.

“Do ye like him?”

There I typed something I was afraid to acknowledge, something I would not be able to say out loud. But something that my fingers managed to write down on a cold white screen.

“I think I’m falling for him, Geillis. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

Three dots appeared and then stopped. And appeared again.

“Oh yer my wee poor thing. I tell ye this. Go with the flow, dinna force things but dinna resist either. I bet the lad likes ye more than ye think. He likes ye, ye like him. Just let it happen, Claire. It will lead ye to something eventually. And if ye need my shoulder to cry on, I am always there for ye.”

* * *

James Fraser was never sure what love is or what it felt like. Of course, he loved his family. He loved his sister and his nephews. Jamie would have turned the world upside down for them. He loved Ian who was like a brother to him. At the age of thirteen, Jamie thought he was in love with the neighbour’s daughter Maryl. She was bonnie. Tall and elegant with long ruddy hair just like his. He loved the feeling when they kissed. But then Brian Fraser told his youngest son that when he would meet the right woman he’ll feel it. From that time on Jamie has always remembered his Da’s words. Every time he tried to catch that feeling but it never was right. Until the moment he met Claire Beauchamp. It was as a stab into his heart and she was the only one who could stop the bleeding. As much as he tried to understand how this woman can make him want to ravish her until there’s nothing left of her and at the same time cradle and love her as the most precious thing in the world he still couldn’t. But Jamie knew he was falling in love with her and she would be the end of him.

Jamie’s voice was soft and slightly husky as he murmured along with the music playing from his phone. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of the meat he’d cooked and I needed to smile at the candles he had put on the table. Who would think there was a romantic inside this big Scot. My heart shattered just a bit with a sound of old cracks in it with each step I took finally reaching him from the back.

“Sassenach.”

My hands circled around him, face pressed to his broad back.

“You want to know a secret?”

“I do if it is something yer willing to share”. I could feel him smile without a need to see his face.

“I fancy you, Jamie. Very much.” My confession mirrored his that was said days ago.

“Do ye now, mo ghraidh?” He turned then to me grinning.

“What does it mean? You called me that before.” Now I smiled being trapped in his arms.

“I tell ye sometime later.” Jamie leaned in to kiss me. For a second it made me forget about our dinner. But he pulled off before I could make further implications on him.

“I have a lot of excellent plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh do you then?” I could not resist patting his arse.

He smiled.

“Oh aye. I do.”

The rain started to fall down washing the day off as well as my worries.

[excelxiors]

the past is behind you; boreo; 7.4k

well heres a long one! boris overdoses and then goes through withdrawl

tw// graphic depictions of overdose and bodily functions during withdrawal, as well as self harm and suicidal ideation 

It happened back in New York. Months after Amsterdam, months after Antwerp, months after Boris agreed to come home with me. We had stayed with Hobie for a little while (he clearly delighted in watching us interact, later telling me that we reminded him of himself and Welty, decades earlier), and then we had bought our own little place not too far away. I apologized to everyone. Kitsey, first and foremost, for leaving during the party and for being so cold towards her and for not loving her very much at all. She accepted my apology, saying that she herself had not been overwhelmingly kind. It was true, of course, but telling Mrs. Barbour that the wedding was off had been hard. She was understandably upset but tried to be kind about the situation, and I made a vow to myself to visit her and the family whenever I could. After everything she had done for me, it was the least I could do. Hobie hadn’t been difficult to apologize to. He was worried when I disappeared without a word, but seeing me again had been enough to reassure him that I was alright. After my apologies, I did what I came back to New York to do: buying up all the phony antiques I sold and making an honest living as Hobie’s business partner, without lying this time. With the reward money from the paintings it wasn’t hard to do.

It happened on a normal day. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary, just a regular Thursday working with Hobie at the shop. Selling his beautiful restored pieces and not lying about what they were. Telling him I’d see him tomorrow, hugging him goodbye, giving Popchyk  a customary head pat, and closing the shop early. Walking the couple of blocks to our apartment like I did every day, running up the stairs from the lobby to the 3rd floor, opening the door, and taking off my shoes. “Boris,” I called out, “I’m home. What are you doing?” No answer. It wasn’t entirely unusual. Though he was usually home when I got back, sometimes he’d slip out. He had his own life, after all, and I tried not to get too caught up in it. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I went into our bedroom to change into something more comfortable (dressing nice for customers had its perks, but comfort wasn’t necessarily one of them) and finally lay down after a day’s worth of work. That wasn’t what happened.

Boris was laying on the bed. He looked asleep at first glance, but with closer inspection I could see that his lips were blue and that the pale, milky white skin of his face was tinged with blue as well. “Boris,” I panicked. “Boris, are you alright?” I immediately forgot everything in the world other than Boris, hopping onto the bed to get a closer look at him. He was out cold, his skin clammy to the touch. “Boris, please.” I was begging, slapping his face and shaking his shoulders to try and wake him. In my panic, I couldn’t understand what had happened. Why my Boris, generally so full of life and energy, looked minutes away from death. I put my head to his chest, listening for a heartbeat or a breath. Anything. His heart was beating, albeit slower than it should have been, and he was breathing, though it sounded like something was stuck in his throat. “Boris. Boris, wake up. Wake up, please!” I had begun to scream. His breaths had sounded so labored that I tried to lift him into a sitting position to alleviate some of the pressure on his chest, but he was dead weight. His body was completely limp, and far too heavy for me to move alone. The struggle of trying to lift Boris had exhausted me, and I slumped back against the wall to take just a moment to breath. That was when I noticed something and it all finally came together, the whole terrible picture. A syringe on the ground, next to a spoon and a lighter. The scene was seared into my brain: Boris desperately trying to get a fix, to get the high he needed to feel normal after years of shooting up. I fumbled in my pants for my phone, shaking as I dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” said a calm, female voice on the other side of the line.

“I need an ambulance, I think my boyfriend is dying!” I was crying, almost screaming to the woman on the line. I had never told a stranger that Boris was my boyfriend, and saying the word out loud was startling. It was all too much, thinking about what might happen to Boris. “Please, help.”

“Sir, what happened?”

“He overdosed. Heroin, I think? I need someone to come now, I can’t help him!”

“Try and remain calm, sir. An ambulance is on the way.” I couldn’t possibly remain calm in a situation like this, so I just laid down next to Boris, cradling his cold, blue face, and waited for the ambulance to arrive. I tried my best to give the operator the rest of the information she needed. Where we were, what his name was, a list of other questions that didn’t matter when Boris was here dying. It felt like a lifetime, and all I could think about was what I could have done differently. Gotten home earlier, called 911 earlier, forced Boris into rehab against his will. Anything I could have done so that I wouldn’t have been there then, holding Boris as he died and waiting for the paramedics to come and save him. It took too long. It was minutes before they arrived, and all I could do was sit there. I had his head in my lap, peppering his face with little kisses. I didn’t know if he could feel them or if he was even conscious, but I prayed that he could. That if he didn’t make it, the last thing he felt was my lips on his.

When the paramedics finally arrived they pulled Boris out of my lap and onto a stretcher where I couldn’t reach him. I heard them talking, confirming what I had suspected. Heroin overdose, and by the looks of it, a bad one. It felt like a dream: Boris on a stretcher, the paramedics mumbling to one another, a shot of Narcan into his thigh. They whisked him away, out of the building and into the back of an ambulance. I couldn’t get to him. I think I may have been screaming, but it was all too chaotic to remember. I just know they wouldn’t let me in the ambulance, and that I had to find another way to the hospital. It was too far to run and I didn’t have a car, so I had to hail a taxi. The taxi driver stayed quiet as I told him where I needed go with tears in my eyes, trying my hardest to hold back sobs.

Arriving at the hospital was a whole different beast entirely. Since Boris had just arrived in an ambulance, the receptionist at the front desk of the emergency room had been unable to give me a room number. “I’m sorry, no visitors are allowed until the patient is put in a permanent room,” she explained to me. “You can wait here and I’ll tell you when?”

“I just need to know if he’s alright. He’s probably in there right now, can I just go there and stay with him?” I was begging her. “Please, his name is Boris Pavlikovsky. Can I just go and see if he’s okay?”

“I’m sorry, sir. If he’s been taken in for emergency medical care, I can’t let anyone who isn’t immediate family visit until he’s been placed in a room. What is your relation to Mr. Pavlikovsky?”

“He’s my boyfriend. He’s family.” It was the second time in that day that I had told someone I didn’t know that Boris was my boyfriend. I didn’t know what else to call us. If we weren’t boyfriends then what were we?

“I’m really sorry. I’m not allowed to let you go.” She did seemed genuinely sorry, but I couldn’t help but wonder why she couldn’t just bend the rules. “I’ll keep an eye on it though, and tell you when.”

I slumped down onto one of the chairs. “Alright, thank you,” I told her. If I thought the few minutes waiting for the ambulance to arrive were hard, waiting nearly an hour for the receptionist to flag me over to her desk was torture. When she finally did, I ran over with a great sense of relief, though I suppose she could have given me bad news.

“He’s stable. He hasn’t been placed in a permanent room yet, but I’ll have a nurse come around and show you where he is.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” A nurse did come around, opening the door to the emergency room and showing me down a hallway full of temporary rooms. On the outside of one of the doors was a paper stuffed into a plastic compartment with what I can only assume were medical documents. Written across the top in messy handwriting was: Pavlikovsky.

“He probably won’t look so great,” the nurse told me. “They had to give him a second dose of Narcan on the ride over, his breathing and heart rate had slowed so much that the first dose didn’t do much. He’s lucky you called when you did. A few minutes longer and he probably would’ve been a goner. You can go in if you want.”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, “I will. Thank you.” Boris was laying on his side, his back turned away from the door. When he heard it open he moaned, probably a sign that he didn’t want any visitors after the hour he spent being brought back from the dead. He was hooked up to an IV, and to a myriad of other machines surrounding his bed. “Boris?” I asked tentatively, waiting at the door.

“Potter?” His voice was weak, and he sounded almost surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He was still facing away from me. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, but I don’t really want to talk.” He scooted over, making as much room for me as he could on the tiny bed. An invitation.

“That’s alright.” I got in next to him, putting my face in his hair and wrapping my arm over his waist, the way he used to do to me when we were kids. “I was so worried, Boris.” My tears were soaking his hair, and all I could think to do was hold him tight and kiss the back of his neck. He still hadn’t looked me in the eyes, and when I kissed his neck, he sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“I said I don’t want to talk. I can’t right now, I’m so tired.”

“Sleep, then. Do you want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “stay.” I laid there for a while, my arms around Boris as he slept. I couldn’t even imagine how exhausting the whole ordeal had been for him. The overdose, the ambulance ride, not knowing where he was or what was happening. We stayed like that for a few hours, as they monitored Boris’ vitals and prepped a more permanent room for him to spend the rest of his hospital visit in. When the doctor finally came in, I sat up and whispered “He’s sleeping. Can it wait?”

“We’d rather not wait, there’s people who need these rooms.”

“Okay so where is he supposed to go?” At the time, I wasn’t sure what the hospital would do. Boris had been hooked on all sorts of drugs for half of his life, with no signs of improvement and no apparent desire to stop.

“We’re going to take him to the general population and monitor his withdrawal symptoms. We can give him stuff to make the experience less painful, but it isn’t going to be nice. I’m glad he’s got someone to support him through that.” She began to move the equipment around Boris’ bed, rolling the stuff towards the door to take it out of the room before rolling Boris’ bed out too. I followed her into an elevator, out into a hallway, and into one of the hospital’s permanent rooms. It was a white, antiseptic space that I knew Boris would hate. He somehow managed to sleep through moving his bed, and I hoped he’d sleep a little longer. Once he woke up, I knew I would have to tell him what they’d planned. For him to come off heroin in the hospital, suffering the withdrawal symptoms I knew he was terrified of. Once the doctor left I got back into the bed with Boris, listening to him breath. His breathes were easier now, the gurgling sound completely gone and replaced with a gentle exhale. He still looked sick, though. His pale skin was devoid of even more color than usual, and he was clammy to the touch. Early withdrawal symptoms, probably the reason he had overdosed in the first place. Shooting up more than he ever should have in an attempt to make those feelings go away.

I knew Boris’ calm wouldn’t last long. About 20 minutes after the room move, he woke up moaning. “Potter, why are we still here? What happened?” He finally rolled over to look at me, resting his head on my chest.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really. I remember waking up on the ambulance, the machines, the people around me. But I do not know. Why are we here?” he asked again, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

“You overdosed, Boris. I found you passed out on the bed. You were barely breathing and you wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t know what to do.” Talking about it was painful, and talking about it to Boris was even worse. He didn’t like to bring it up. The darker parts of his existence were off limits, particularly his heroin use.  

“Why did you call the ambulance? I hate the doctors, Potter, you know this.”

“You were dying,” I whispered. “The doctor told me if I had waited 5 more minutes you would have been gone.”

“You should not have called,” Boris answered.

“You know I had to. I couldn’t just let you die there, Boris. I love you.” I kissed the top of his head. His dark curls were sweaty and sort of gross, but none of it mattered. He was here with me now.

“So when can we leave? I just want to go home.” This was what I had been dreading. He sounded tired even though he had just woken up, and defeated, too. Defeated in a way that I wasn’t used to hearing Boris sound.

I took a deep breath before saying, “We aren’t going, Boris. We’re gonna stay until the withdrawal is finished, and then we’ll go home.”

Boris immediately jumped, getting up off the bed and ripping the IVs out of his arms. “No, no. I will not stay here, I don’t want to do it. You know this.” He had gone from slurring his words in exhaustion to frantic in the span of a few seconds.

“Boris, please,” I begged. “It’ll be better here. You don’t want to go to an impatient treatment center, I won’t be there. At least here I can be with you.”

“I want to go home, Potter. No hospitals at all. I’m not crazy, I don’t need to be here. I’m fine now, I can go home.”

“Please, calm down. Come here.” I got up, putting my arms around Boris and holding him tight. “Nobody said you were crazy.” I kissed his jaw, then his lips. “You can finally get clean, Boris. It’ll be good.”

“I’m so scared.” I could barely hear the words, they were so quiet. “I don’t want to do it. The withdrawal is bad, and it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to do it.” He was shaking a bit now, forcing the words through tears.

“Yeah, I know. But it’ll be better here than at home. They can give you stuff, make it a little less horrible. I’ll be here, too. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” I rubbed circles onto his back, holding him as he cried.

Boris pulling out his IVs must have triggered some alarm, because a nurse walked in shortly after, asking what had happened. I had told her that Boris freaked and pulled all the wires connecting him to the machines off, but that he was okay now, and that she could hook him back up. He agreed, laying down and looking away as she stuck his arm. He was hooked up to a bunch of wires on both his chest and arms, probably to monitor his heart rate and oxygen levels as well as give him fluids. When she left, I joined him on the bed again. He still had tears in his eyes.

“Hey. Boris, it’s going to be alright.” I cupped his face with my hands, wiping his tears away and kissing him gently. “You’re so strong. You can do this, I promise.”

“Yes, I just don’t want to,” he answered. “Have been through worse, probably, but it will not be good. I really don’t want to go through all of it.”

“I know. I know you don’t. But once it’s over you’ll be so much better off. Healthier and happier. Right?”

“I already feel sick, Potter.” He looked sick, too. He closed his eyes, the way people do when they’re trying to stave off pain, and took a shaky breath. I soon realized it wasn’t pain he was trying to stave off, but his nausea. It hadn’t worked. He began to vomit, all down his chin and on hospital gown. He groaned, in pain maybe, but more likely in embarrassment at the first real symptom of his withdrawal. “I am sorry. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s nothing. You’ve seen me worse, Boris.” I helped him into a sitting position, which caused him to vomit again. It was pooling in his flimsy hospital gown, the sharp and sour smell of bile in the air. “Let me help you take it off.”

“No, I can do it myself.” I knew it would get worse, and that eventually he probably would need my help, or a nurse’s, so I didn’t fight back, even though I knew that it would be easier and faster if I helped. It took him a little while to peal off the hospital gown without getting vomit on the bed, and once he did he was lying in front of me completely naked. He folded in on himself into a fetal position, moaning again. “I think I’m dying,” he said.

“You’re not dying. I promise, you’re going to be okay.” It was probably muscle cramps, his stomach tightening up after violently expelling all of the bile in his system. “Come take a shower, it’ll feel good to be under the water after everything.” I helped him up, walking to the small hospital shower with my arms around him. I’d obviously seen him naked before, but now his nakedness was startling. He looked thinner than I remembered, his ribs prominent and his stomach hollowed. I sat him down on the little chair in the shower, moving the shower head out of the way to make sure the temperature was okay before turning the water towards him. I hadn’t gone back home, and I didn’t think to bring toiletries in my panic, so we were stuck with the hospital’s cheap two in one shampoo, which I poured into my hands and rubbed into Boris’ sweaty hair.

“You do not have to wash my hair. I am alright, Potter.”

“Shh, don’t worry about it,” I whispered. “I want to.” I massaged the shampoo in, a strangely intimate act, before bringing the shower head down to wash it out more easily. “Stand up and wash your body?” Boris nodded, grabbing the hospital issued bar soap and rubbing it over his chest and arms. He was doing fine until another muscle cramp must have hit him, and he slipped down to the floor.

He saw me jump back in panic and bend down to grab him, respondng with “Do not worry, is okay.” He grabbed onto the stool, struggling to get back up with the slippery surface of the shower floor under his feet, and I caught him as he almost fell for a second time. I sat him down, helping him wash the rest of his body before shutting off the water and going to grab him a towel. In the minute I was away, I heard him moan again. “I’m sorry,” he said, at a volume I could barely hear from across the room. I couldn’t see him yet, but coming back into the bathroom it was obvious what had happened by the smell alone. He had shit himself, diarrhea pouring down the back of his legs and sitting stagnant at the bottom of the shower. He was shaky, and kept apologizing out loud, over and over. Maybe to me, maybe to himself, maybe to some higher power. I couldn’t tell.

“It’s alright. Calm down, Boris. We can clean it up, it’s only in the shower. Better here than out there.” I turned the water back on, and Boris grabbed the soap to clean himself as the shit ran down his legs and to the drain. I kept the water on his back and legs until it ran clean and the smell was mostly gone from the room. “Here,” I said, wrapping him with the towel. “You just need to lay down.” I got Boris into a new hospital gown and back into bed, kissing him through it all. Once we were laying back down, I told him “I love you so much, Boris. Thank you for staying here.”

He turned away from me, like he had before. He didn’t want to make eye contact. “This is why I didn’t want to do this,” he admitted. “Now I am like child and you have to take care of me.” Because he was only wearing a hospital gown, Boris’ entire backside was visible to me. I kissed his neck and rubbed the small of his back as he said “I hate it. I feel sick, and it only just started, Potter. I will be grown man shitting himself like baby for a week. Might was well put me in a diaper so I don’t fucking shit the bed. I don’t want the nurse to have to clean me because then I feel like invalid, but if you have to clean me I feel horrible too. Like I have lost all my dignity in the world.” He was crying, his voice shaking as he spoke. His body was shaking too, craving the heroin that had nearly killed him.

“Please,” I said gently, “look at me when I tell you this. It’s important.” Boris turned around, but focused his eyes on my chest and not my face. I grabbed his face gently, stroking his cheekbone as I told him “I’m here because I love you, Boris. Whatever happens, I’m going to stay until it’s over. And I don’t mind taking care of you. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do. You cleaned my puke more times than I can count, and I’m sure there’s times I don’t even know about. Blackout drunk, remember? And that’s just when we were kids. You did so much for me, not because anyone forced you to but because you’re a good person. And I’m trying to be a good person, too. I love you more than anything in the world, and if that means cleaning up your shit for a week then so be it. Because you deserve to get better, and you deserve recovery and you deserve happiness.”

“You are too good for me.”

“No, I’m not.” It was late, past midnight. Maybe 9 hours after I had found Boris in the apartment nearly dead. “I really don’t want to leave you, but I think maybe I should go back to the apartment and grab some stuff? Just some clothes for us, soap, toothbrushes, that sort of thing. Try and sleep, maybe? I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” Leaving Boris was the last thing I wanted to do. The thought of being away from him now terrified me, but going to grab the things we needed before he got too bad sounded like a good idea.

“Yes, go. I will be here, probably puking my guts out.” He saw my look of concern and laughed weakly. “Is okay, just joke.” I gave Boris a deep kiss before getting out of the tiny bed, standing at the door for a minute before promising I’d be back soon, and walking fast down the hallway. I intended to keep that promise.

After taking a taxi back to the apartment, I walked quickly to the bathroom to grab our toiletries, and then into the bedroom. It was exactly as it had been after the ambulance arrived, completely untouched by anyone since then. The place was a wreck, Boris’ syringe still on the ground. I threw away the drug paraphernalia in a rush, praying that Boris would never need any of it again, and got some clothes together. Pajamas, underwear, socks. A couple of comfortable outfits. Stuffing it into a bag with the toiletries, I ran out of the apartment, hailed a taxi, and was back at the hospital in less than half an hour.

Walking fast down the halls at night was strange. Nurses and doctors on the night shift stared, and I was glad to be back in the room by Boris’ side and away from their glances. I entered quietly, hoping Boris had fallen asleep, but he hadn’t. Instead, he closed his eyes when he saw me and said “It happened again, Potter.” He didn’t specify what, but I knew. This time, though, he had shit the bed.

I flagged a nurse and asked if she could replace the sheets, while I took Boris into the shower to clean him off again. It had only been around an hour since the last shower, and it was the early hours of the morning, but the thought of Boris feeling any more demoralized than he already was broke my heart. I took out the fancy body wash we had at the apartment, and helped Boris as he washed himself off. “This will just keep happening,” he said. “I will not be able to shower every time.”

“I know, but I want you to at least be clean before you sleep.” I rubbed the soap onto his back, then rinsed it off with the shower head. “And I brought some of your pajamas from home if you don’t want to sleep in the hospital gown.”

“I think maybe it is better to not ruin my clothes,” he said. “Not until this part is over.”

“Okay.” As I helped him out of the shower, he leaned over the toilet to vomit. “Have you eaten anything?” I asked.

“I will just puke it up or shit it out.” He exhaled. “Even water. And I am not hungry at all.”

“Alright, do you wanna try and sleep? It’s late.”

“Yes, I will try. You will not leave?”

“No, Boris. I won’t leave, I promise.” After I got Boris back onto the bed, I pulled the couch in the room close to the bed, so I could be as close to him as possible without squeezing next to him. We had squeezed in beds before, but the twin sized cot was far too small for us to sleep in together now that we were fully grown. He held out his hand, and I gave it a tight squeeze. “Goodnight, Boris. I love you.”

My back hurt bad the next morning, a sign that the too stiff couch was clearly not meant to be slept on. I had woken up at around 6 am, when a nurse came in to check on Boris and got out of bed shortly after, when Boris got up to commence vomiting into the toilet. When I sat down next to him the only thing I noticed was that he looked worse. His skin was clammy, his hair was matted down from sweat, and his nose was dripping. “Did you sleep alright?” I asked tentatively.

“Tossing and turning all night, Potter. Did not sleep much, but when I did I was dreaming. Of Las Vegas, and you, and my father. I want this to stop already. I just need a little bit, it is in my drawer at home. Just a little to make this go away, and then I will stop.” He was desperate, pleading with his eyes.

“I’m not going home to get you heroin, Boris. I’m going to call Hobie and ask him to throw it all away.”

“No, please! Please, I just need a little.” He was vomiting again, his hands on the sides of the toilet and his face resting against the cool porcelain of the seat. He must have been hot, because he had sweat through his hospital gown.

“I’m not going to let you do that, and you know it. You’re this far, let’s just stick it out.” I rubbed his neck as he vomited, hands running through his sweaty hair. It was like that for hours. Boris, vomiting into the toilet bowl as I rubbed his neck. Occasionally, Boris recoiling and closing his eyes in embarrassment as diarrhea ran down his legs and onto the bathroom floor, as I quietly left to find someone who could clean up the mess. The nurse was in and out, checking in on him and giving him medication for the nausea and diarrhea that did little to help his situation. By the end of the day, I was surprised that Boris even had anything left in his system to expel, but the vomit and diarrhea continued on and off until nearly midnight, when Boris fell back against the bathroom wall.

“I am so tired, Potter,” he said to me, his voice hoarse from vomit. “Think I should shower, but don’t know if I can stand up.”

“Sit on the stool, then. It’s there for a reason.” I pointed at the little seat in the shower, and Boris nodded softly. He took off his sweat drenched hospital gown and threw it to the ground, stepping inside the shower carefully before sitting down. He took the entire shower that way, sitting with his back resting on the wall as used the shower head to rinse him off. I had to help him more this time, washing his hair like I did before but also lathering the soap all over his body. He was weaker than I had ever seen him, and he quickly resigned to let me help. “All clean,” I told him, shutting off the water. “Wanna just sleep in a pair of boxers? You’re sweating through everything, I think the less you wear the better.”

“That’s fine.” He really seemed exhausted, collapsing down into his bed as soon as he got his underwear on. “Turn the light off, I will try and sleep.”

“Alright. Sleep well, I love you.” I gave him a kiss on the forehead before shutting off the lights and laying down on the couch.

Sleep came easy, but didn’t last long. I was abruptly awoken, hearing a panicked voice yell, “Nyet, nyet!” Boris was frantic, switching between Russian and English. I rolled over to look at the clock. 4:17 am. I got up off the couch, rubbing my eyes and yawning before approaching Boris. “Ne podkhodi blizhe! Don’t come any closer!” He was scared, wrapping his arms around his chest to protect himself. “Nyet, papa!” I didn’t know much Russian, but I suddenly knew what was happening. I could understand those words. He was begging his father to stay away from him, telling him to not come any closer, and in his delusional state he either thought I was his father or that his father was next to me.

“Boris, listen. I’m not him,” I pleaded, hoping to get through to him.

“Prekrati eto!”

“Boris, it’s me, it’s Theo!” I tried to approach him, but every time I did he panicked, scooting further away from me. “Theodore Decker!”

“Pozhaluysta, papa!” He was crying now, “Don’t hit me, please!”

“Boris I would never hurt you. I promise, I would never hurt you. I love you so much.” He didn’t seem to see me at all or to be listening to anything I said, so I did the only thing I could think of, which was to run over to him and wrap him in my arms. He tried to fight me off, but once he realized that I wasn’t hurting him at all he calmed down. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just me.” A callback to our childhood, something that might bring him back to reality.

“Potter?” He was clearly confused. “Where am I?”

“The hospital, Boris.” I still had my arms around him, holding tight. I pressed a kiss to his sweaty temple.

“In Las Vegas? What happened?”

“No, in New York. You overdosed, we’re here to help you get better.”

“Why are we in New York? When did we get here?” He didn’t seem aware of the situation, perhaps thinking himself to be a child again.

“We live here, Boris. In our apartment, remember?” I was trying to be as gentle with him as possible, reminding him of our life together. The life we made for ourselves in New York.

“I don’t know.” He looked confused. Aware that he should know, but worried about the fact that he didn’t.

“Try and sleep, Boris. It’ll be better when you wake up tomorrow. I promise.” I loosened the grip, letting him out of my arms. “Are you cold?” I asked, since he was in only a pair of thin boxers. He shook his head no. “Okay, then you should sleep.” He nodded, though he seemed completely out of it, then got into bed, curled up into the fetal position, and fell asleep. I followed soon after.

Boris’ episode of delusion and panic frightened me greatly, as I had never seen him lose touch with reality the way he did during those 10 minutes. The next day, though his vomiting and diarrhea had become manageable, and though he knew that I was me and that we were in New York, Boris began to terrify me in an entirely new way.

He woke me up with his crying, telling me “I did not sleep well last night, Potter. I don’t know what I did.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what you did?” I asked gently. I knew Boris was in a sensitive emotional state. Three days into withdrawal meant his cravings were rampant and his moods were swinging wildly.

“I hurt myself, I think?” He held his arms out for me to see, and where there were usually faint track marks I saw bloody holes. It looked as if he had dug into the marks with something sharp, creating craters over twice the size of the scars that usually littered his arms. “I don’t know what happened?” He phrased it like a question, like he genuinely didn’t know how the marks had gotten there.

“You did it to yourself?” I whispered, and he nodded. “With what?”

“Razor blade, when you were sleeping. Dug the corner into the holes, I needed to let the blood out.”

“Why did you need to let the blood out?” He still seemed not quite in touch with reality, but I desperately didn’t want to get him sent to the psych ward, so I kept it all quiet. Made sure he was under the blanket and pretended it all was fine when the nurse came in to check on him.

He began to cry harder, wiping away tears as he said “To feel something? I need to feel something, Potter. I feel so numb without the drugs, it makes me wish I were dead. I need to do a pop but I can’t get it here, so I need to feel something else. Anything else, before I slit my wrists and end it, Potter.”

“Boris.” I didn’t know what else to say. I knew heroin withdrawal could create depression so strong the addict was drawn to suicide, but I had always figured Boris couldn’t feel that way. Boris laughed off his trauma, and even when he let it affect him it was never nearly this bad. “We just need to get through today.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do it anymore, this whole thing.”

I kissed his head, whispering “You’ve made it this far, I know you can make it the rest of the way. I know it.”

“I don’t want to make it if this is how I’m going to feel. I would rather be dead.” I laid down with him, and he rested his head on my chest. “I hate being me and I hate that I put myself in this situation. I hate it all.”

“There’s no use in being upset for the things you did in the past, Boris. You need to forgive yourself for the things you regret doing and just promise yourself you’ll do better. The past is behind you and you can’t change it. You can’t go back and decide to not use drugs, but you can try your hardest to never start again. It hurts, I know, but you just need to remember that we’re here for a reason. And you need to look forward to that, you need to look forward to the future. Every day it’ll be easier. And it’s hard now, but tomorrow it’ll be less, and the next day even less, until it gets easy enough that you won’t have to think about it. You know?”

“Will you just lay with me today?” he asked into my chest.

“Do you really think I’d leave you now? Of course I’ll lay with you. And soon we can go home.”

We stayed in the same position for hours, only getting up when one of us had to go to the bathroom. Boris was finally able to keep food down, and he looked much healthier than he had the day before. He was still clammy and pale, but his skin looked less dull and he wasn’t shaking. He was finally able to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt without sweating through them, and the doctor cleared him to be discharged after one more night in the hospital as long as his symptoms kept improving.

We spent the last night the way we spent the first two, with me on the couch pushed close to Boris’ bed. I knew he wasn’t sleeping well, a result of the withdrawal induced anxiety and insomnia, and that he probably wouldn’t sleep well for at least a week after, as he body adjusted to not having heroin in it’s system, but he got a few hours of sleep that night. Better than any of the nights before, and without any trips to the bathroom to puke or delusions interrupting his rest. The next morning, he took a shower and changed into a new set of sweatpants and a new t-shirt without any help. He still wasn’t himself, but he was able to do the things that had seemed impossible in the two days prior. He gave me a weak smile as he left the bathroom, wet curls hanging down over his forehead. Eventually, a doctor came in and explained to Boris his options for after we left: personal therapy to help discuss the trauma that had led to addiction, group therapy to foster better coping skills, follow ups to see how he was doing. All things I knew he would object to.

“They think I am crazy, Potter. That I need shrink,” he laughed.

“Nobody thinks that. It’s just to talk about yourself and any problems that happen to arise in day to day life. It might be good for you.” He didn’t seem convinced. “I go to therapy, Boris. It helps, I promise. After everything we’ve been through, sometimes you just need to talk to someone who wasn’t involved in it all.”

He sighed, “We can talk about this later.”

“Okay.” I didn’t want to push him. Even though he was visibly better, his withdrawal wasn’t finished. The doctor had made that clear. He had puked and shit himself constantly for two days, then spent the next in a clear mental crisis. It would last for at least few more days with less severe physical symptoms, and his body wouldn’t be completely used to being without heroin until next week. There was just no need for the hospital to monitor him anymore.  His overdose hadn’t killed him, and the very worst of his withdrawal was over, so the responsibility of making sure Boris was alright was placed entirely on me.

I packed up the one bag I had brought, and Boris put on the clothes he had come to the hospital in. A black shirt and dark jeans, the outfit he had been wearing when I found him laying on the bed. We signed the necessary paperwork, and within an hour he was discharged. The air was crisp and the sun was bright, especially after three days of the bleach smell and fluorescent lights of the hospital. Boris took in a deep breath, and I put my arm around his shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

“Three days is nothing,” he said. “I’m still going through it.”

“I know. But I’m proud of you for getting this far. You’ve never done it before. That’s something to be proud of.”

Being back home wasn’t as much of a relief as I thought it would be. Our home was the same, but it all felt different. The promise of a better future for Boris echoed throughout the halls, but the knowledge that he might relapse and that we might have to start all over lurked in the back of my mind as well. He was happy to be back, though. Being able to lay in our bed instead of the uncomfortable hospital bed helped him sleep better, and being in a familiar environment eased his anxiety. I spent the next week in bed with him as he recovered, calming him when he woke up screaming and promising him that his life was well worth living. It got easier, but it was never easy. He managed to remain clean that entire time, a feat that I frankly didn’t think was possible for him. He looked healthier than he ever had, too. His skin was clear and glowing in a way that I didn’t associate with Boris one bit, the dull pallor replaced with rosy fairness.

One night, weeks after the hospital, we were laying in bed when Boris said to me, “Thank you. For making me stay in the hospital. I didn’t ever think I’d stop, and I didn’t think that anyone would care enough to make me. But you did.”

“Yeah, of course. You know you mean the world to me, right? That if I had lost you that night I don’t even know what I would have done.” I kissed him then, slow and deep. Boris was alive and breathing, and he was kissing me back, and that was more than I could have ever asked for.

I can’t speak for the future. None of us know what’s going to happen tomorrow, and the thought of that terrifies us all. But for now, I can say that Boris remained clean. Threw his drugs down the garbage disposal and watched them get incinerated, went to therapy, took it all one day at a time. Put years and years of numbing his pain with drugs behind him, and decided he would keep going despite everything he had been through. And that’s more than I could ever ask of him.

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[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter four of seven – Carnistir/Tuilindien

Chapter length: ~1,500 words; Story rating: Teenage audiences

Some keywords for the whole fic: romance, marriage, family, some fluff, some angst, implied sex, years of the trees

A/N: A less happy chapter. There are bad days in every relationship.

In this chapter, near the end, there are some lines from the lyrics from The Amazing Devil's exquisite love song Fair where the title of this fic is also from.

AO3 LINK

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Chapter IV //  Stormy days

There are stormy days, too, in between the days of bliss and comfort.

Literal autumn storms, which force Tuilindien to stay inside instead of spending love in her beloved orchard, are more common here in Tirion than on Taniquetil. On the slopes of the holy mountain Manwë's benevolence protects Ingwë's court from the harshest of his winds.

And there are the kind of storms that rage inside Carnistir.

Most of the time he can control them, and Tuilindien knows that he works hard to do so. He comes home late after clearing his head elsewhere, or expends his rage and energy by chopping firewood even though they have servants who would do it, or he goes to his study after a gruff apology and sits there in silence as the light around him mingles and changes. And when he does come to Tuilindien, the storm is mostly cleared, the rough waters of his mind not too difficult for the two of them to navigate.

But sometimes he comes home irritated and only grows more so as the evening goes on, and Tuilindien tires of being careful with him and grows quiet. And though he usually would, he does not notice, too preoccupied with his own vexations.

And then he snaps about something over dinner, about something which is not even her fault or in her control, and Tuilindien lays down her knife and fork, and says, her voice shaking in that way that she despises, 'If you are going to be like that tonight, Carnistir, I will cut this meal short and go visit Parmandil.'

He stops and stares at her and snarls, 'It's too late for visiting.'

'It's too angry here.'

Silence, and shame in their connection that both of them have tried their best to close.

'I didn't even shout', Carnistir says after a tense minute.

Tuilindien's knuckles are white from grasping her skirt. She cannot look at him when he says things like that, things that bring into too bright a light what he is used to, what are his standards for 'too angry' – or what they used to be anyway, and still bleed through.

'I am not going to wait here until you do.' She stands up, fully intending to leave. To go to her friend Parmandil's house or, if she is not home, to – to Indis, or to their own stables to sit down in a pile of straw and let Mirwannë snuffle at her. Anywhere but here.

Yet she tarries, moves slowly as if in an unwanted dream as she gathers her skirts in her hands and pushes her chair back.

More silence and shame from her husband on the other side of the table. And then the scraping of another pushed back violently.

'Stay', Carnistir says. 'I will go out and come back when I won't hurt you. I wouldn't mean to do it –'

'I know', she says, because she does.

'– But I might. I am sorry.'

And he is, he always is, but she still cannot breathe with all that anger in the air, choking and poisonous, only more so when it is directed at himself. She knew this about him when she promised herself to him, and she accepted it as part of him, but that does not mean she has to breathe in the same air as him when it is clouded by rage.

So she lets him leave, grateful that she doesn't have to be the one to go. He has many more places to go than her.

He has to walk to her side of the table to get out of the room. He comes close to her, not touching, and hesitates.

'I argued with Ontamo and was still angry about that when I came home', he admits gruffly. 'I'll go see him and resolve things with him. It was not fair of me to bring the argument home.'

'No', Tuilindien agrees, with as little accusation as she can. It is not very little. Her day had been good, and she'd looked forward to the time with him in the evening. 'Please don't come home when you are like that. No, do come home, always, it is your home too, but do not come at me with your anger when I am not even its cause.'

'I won't.' There is so light a touch to her arm that Tuilindien is not sure if she imagined it, and then it is gone, and so is Carnistir.

Tuilindien sits back down and leans back in her chair and drinks a glass of wine. She has no appetite for food.

So he fought with Ontamo, she thinks as she stares at Carnistir's half-eaten meal on the other side of the table.

Ontamo is Carnistir's closest friend, Tuilindien assumes, though Carnistir has never explicitly said so. He appears to be the only one who is not a family friend – most of Carnistir's friends are also friends of one or more of Carnistir's brothers. Carnistir and Ontamo were apprentices to the same stone-smith when they were only boys, and forged a bond during that time, Tuilindien has gathered. It is a bond that has weathered many disagreements over the years.

She hopes it will weather this one too.

When the light in the dining room begins to turn rather silver, and her glass of wine is empty, Tuilindien goes to get a cloak so she can wander in the garden in the cooling evening air.

There are few flowers in bloom now, the garden settling into winter's rest. Only lavaraldar trees still carry their pale flowers. Tuilindien has always loved these trees for their resilience even in the midst of winter. They rest for a short while, and then they bloom again, filling the air with their faint, sweet scent that brings restfulness.

She stands for a long time among the trees, doing little more than inhaling deeply.

She wonders if Carnistir is doing something similar, or if he is yelling at the top of his lungs.

Tuilindien is slipping into bed when he comes home. She has brought a book to the bedroom, which she rarely does since books tend not to get read there, but she leaves it on the nightstand and sits back against the headboard as she watches Carnistir strip himself in brisk movements that do not look too angry.

She can feel little from him besides shame, again. She is tired of it.

'Are you feeling better now?' she asks.

'Yes.' He yanks his undertunic up and over his head, and tosses it on the floor. Then he grimaces, bends down to pick the tunic up and places it neatly on the chair where he leaves his clothes every night.

'It was a stupid misunderstanding', he says. 'But I am quick to anger, and he is quick to indignation when his ideas are not appreciated, so we both got into a huff and parted when we should have kept talking.'

'I am glad that Ontamo and you cleared the air', Tuilindien replies carefully. 'I know that he is important to you.'

Carnistir sighs and sits down on the side of the bed. Tuilindien notices that he places himself so that he doesn't touch her. She feels the heat of him on her skin anyway, and misses it.

'He is', Carnistir says. 'Most of the time he is the best person to discuss my ideas with and to work alongside, whether on a shared project or on our own projects. He is less demanding than my father and less sarcastic than Curufinwë. But we both have a short temper and sometimes they flare at the same time and then we cannot just laugh it off.'

'Things are well now, though?' She doesn't mean only things with Ontamo.

They look at each other, properly in the eyes, for the first time since Carnistir came home with a dark cloud in his spirit.

'I will likely be half-grumpy for a while yet but things are well if my most beloved vanimelda is well', he says. 'Tuilë, I am sorry –'

She cannot help but say, 'I am tired of apologies. I always forgive you anyway. You did not mean to hurt me and you barely did before you left and gave me the space of our home.'

'You have fewer places that you could go here in Tirion', he says, and at that she opens her arms and welcomes him back to her, like she knows she always will, because she loves him beoynd reason and beoynd her understanding of herself and beoynd the borders of the world, though it is impossible. Beoynd the stars into darkness.

She brushes her hand through his hair as he clings to her, his frantic heartbeat calming down against her chest, and she thinks again, it is not fair how unreasonably in love I am with you, and, it is not fair how much I love you even when you make me ache.

Perhaps she thinks that at him, having unconsciously opened herself up to him again, because he mumbles into her hair, 'I love you to irrationality and back. I'll always come back to you and this home that we've created.'

*

A/N: Please note that I never claimed to write only healthy relationships. Tuilindien and Carnistir SHOULD not be taken as a model of what is good or acceptable in a marriage.

The next chapter includes a prompt fill for Alkarinque that I have previously posted on Tumblr, but I've added a lot to it. In the chapter, Carnistir and Tuilindien go on a journey. I'll update on Thursday.

As always, I appreciate and am delighted by reblogs and comments.

[thefricklefracklesin]

Joseph Liebgott Request

Paring: Liebgott/reader

Reader: F

Raiting: Mature

Warnings: Smut, swearing, maybe some ooc, its been 6 months since Ive written smut, but I promise I’ll get better 

If anyone would like to be added to a tag list let me know!

“So y/n, you got a man back home waiting for your beautiful face?” Guarnere questioned in a teasing matter; now what you meant to do was laugh, but what came out of your mouth was more like a gasp/snort/laugh, as you hunched over around the small fire wheezing, some of the guys laughed at you, purely for the sounds you were making. “Fuck no, I mean, I had a man, but that’s history that will never repeat itself” sighing, you looked at the ground then around at the men whom were with you, Guarnere, Liebgott, Toye and Bull. “What happened?” Bull asked from beside you. As you hummed contently, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted about the whole ordeal. 

2 weeks was all you had left before you were deployed, and this specific evening marked your four year anniversary with your boyfriend. You were high school sweethearts, love at first sight, HAH, bullshit. Arriving at your shared apartment after doing a little shopping at your local market, having decided that you were going to make something special for tonight due to the occasion. 

Your hand met the handle, and your face became slightly contorted with confusion. ‘Jeremy doesn’t work on Thursdays, maybe he went out for some more beer’ you thought, retrieving your keys.

The click of the lock fell to dull ears within the apartment, heavy breathing and panting was faintly heard from where you stood, you didn’t want to believe it, perhaps he was working out? Scenarios ran through your crowded mind as light footsteps approached your closed bedroom door. Quietly, you lean your ear against the door.

“Mmmh Jer, I need more of you” a sultry voice became heard, and anger rushed through your veins. Clenching your fist, you threw open the door, causing the two culprits to stop immediately. “Baby Gi-” “Don’t you DARE ‘baby girl’ me, who the hell are you, what the FUCK is this?” marching forward with fury in your eyes, you grab the broad by the hair and dragged her naked form out of your bed, she cried and kicked but you had absolutely zero remorse.

The four years you had spent together went straight out the door, along with the four years of feelings and emotions. You did not care about him anymore. “Get out of my house! Both of you!” throwing her to the ground, you looked at Jeremy, “Just hear-” “No I don’t want to hear anything except the sound of you walking out that door.” 

“That was pretty much it” you explained, Bull threw his arm over you “That’s really shitty sweetheart I’m sorry that had to happen to someone like yourself” A smile graced your lips as you looked up at him. Unaware to how Joe was staring at you. “I have you boys now, and think I love you all more than I ever loved him” turning to look at the other three men, somehow, in all this hell, you managed to make them happy, you never fail to make a single man in Easy Co. smile. 

“There’s your answer Joe, now just go talk to her!” Toye pushed, Liebgotts face gained a pink hue as he shook his head. “I don’t even know if she likes me that way” he argued. “Hey I bet she hasn’t had a good fuck either since that jerk” Guarner piped up “Maybe yours truly should take a crake at it” bracing himself to stand, he heard before he saw it, but Liebgott was over there instantly, grabbing his collar before landing one on his right eye. Now at this exact moment you chose to make your way back over to the group after going to check on the other men. “Joe!” running over you grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Bill “What are you doing?” you kneeled down to Bill and grabbed his now bruised and swollen face. A smug smile made its way onto said man’s lips as his eyes met Joes. You were so close that if Bill wanted to he could lean forward and kiss you. As much as he wanted to do that he respected you too much; “What’s the meaning of this Liebgott?” You asked, anger and something else visible on your face. Just seeing you look like that made Joe angry at himself. His eyes met the ground and he turned away, leaving the small circle. 

“Good job gonorrhea, you did it now.” Bull commented, watching the retreating form. You looked to Bull for an answer when Bill spoke up. “I was just jokin around, but he didn’t like what I said” shrugging as he tenderly touched his eye. “Bill just took it too far as usual with Joe” Toye said, standing and placing a hand on your shoulder. “You should go talk to him” and so you would. 

It took you about ten minutes to track down Joseph Liebgott, you still weren’t sure why you specifically would calm him down but that’s just what Toye told you. 

Plunk

There he was, angrily trying to skip rocks across a very small pond (a big puddle) as the space you currently occupied was deemed safe, you were all awaiting orders, and the men were more laid back. “Joey?” speaking softly, you placed a hand on his shoulder, his head turned slightly, looking up at you. “You okay?” taking the seat next to him, placing a hand on his knee “Bill was just joking about whatever he said, he wasn’t seriou-” “It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t serious, what matters is that something like that should only be said if he was planning on following through” interrupting you with his little angry rant took you back a bit. “What did he say?” he was silent for five moments, then you found yourself on the ground with Liebgott on top of you “He said you probably hadn’t had a good fuck in a while and that he should take a crack at it, but he’s too much of a chicken shit to follow through on his words. I’m not baby girl, and I intend to give you the best fuck of your life.”

Your core felt hot as you gazed up at Joe, your eyes were wide as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. You made no effort to refuse him, because honestly you had been waiting for him to make a move on you, you were never sure if he was 100% interested in you. He would flirt with you, but then again so did most of the men, but Joe, he was different, he meant everything he said and he wanted you to make sure that you knew that.

His lips pressed against yours roughly, his hands pinning yours down still. Moaned into his mouth, you arched your back against him. They were right, it had been a while since you had a good fuck, hell even an orgasm was hard to get since you had joined the paratroopers. “Mmh, Joe, what if someone sees us” “nobody will come out this way if you stay quiet baby” he gruffly whispered into your ear as one of his hands made their way down your body, making their way into your uniform, pulling up the white shirt you wore beneath it, cupping and squeezing your breasts. Deep down you always knew that Liebgott was a boob man, you’d always catch him staring at you during runs the most, and now he finally had the opportunity to worship your body, something he had always dreamed about doing.

The hand which was pinning your own moved down to your other breast. Both of his hands worked at them as his mouth worked at your own. Whimpering softly into his mouth when he pinched a little rougher at your nippels. “Fuck” you gasped as his mouth started making a trail of kisses down your neck, to your breasts. He looked up at you as he took your nipple into his mouth, pinching it with his teeth, flicking it with his tongue while his other hand made its way down, slipping under the band of your pants. 

“Mmh so fuckin wet” he groaned, pulling away from you, undoing his pants; sure you had seen majority of the guys cocks in Easy but you cannot recal seeing Liebgotts, because fuck if you had then this would have happened alot sooner. “Fuck Joe hurry I need you” you whimpered

“Don’t you worry” grunting, as he yanked your pants off, “You’re going to have all of me baby girl” your eyes rolled back into your skull, it had been so long since you’ve felt this full.

He began to thrust, hard, into you, slapping a hand overtop of your mouth after a rather large moan escaped your lips. “I’m going to make you feel so good baby girl, but you have to be quiet, for now.”

“Has anyone seen L/N?” Winters asked, Guarnere spoke up “I believe her and Joe went for a walk” He said, chuckling as some of the other men joined him. Winters looked to Nixon who gave him a suggestive face, in return Winters cleared his throat and muttered a carry on before continuing his conversation with Nixon. 

Fifteen minutes later, you and Joe emerged from the trees, laughing and joking with each other. “Well well you two were gone a while” “Oh shove it, gonorrhea” Joe slung his arm over your shoulders as you rejoined everyone, Toye sat on your other side. “So, is he better than the last one?”

[t0ngue-tech]

A Whirlwind Summer

“’You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.’ Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

‘Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.’ You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

‘That’s me.’”

↠highschoolAU(obviiii) fluff n’ angst, lots of dialogue if yall dont mind huhu↞

word count: 15k oh my god

↠oneshot↞

a/n: THE LAST TIME I UPLOADED WAS IN DECEMBER HOLY BALLS IM SORRY LOL. ive been writing this on and off for about two months and im so happy to have finally finished it. i hope you guise like it ^-^

Summer was supposed to be two months filled with late nights and lots of leisure reading. You had plans to finally finish a book series that you started at the beginning of the year and of course, you made sure to make time in your busy schedule to hang out with Jisoo.

It was two weeks into summer and you didn’t touch the series you planned to read because your mother thought it would be a good idea to come home from work one day with a bunch of applications for a summer job. You told her that you wanted to start working in college where you were allowed to work on campus and she didn’t mind at all, so when she handed you the stack of applications, you were confused.

“It’s only for the summer, sweetheart. And after this you have some work experience.” Was her reasoning and you knew you couldn’t say no.

After filling out the applications and going to a few interviews, you ultimately decided to work at a cozy ice cream parlour that was located across the park you frequented.

It was early evening which meant there weren’t as much people coming into the parlour. Jisoo was waiting with you to finish because she was going to sleepover at your house. You didn’t drive, so Jisoo was also your ticket home instead of you making the fifteen minute walk back to your house.

“Lighten up, y/n. Sure, your summer may have been ever-so-slightly ruined, but you get free ice cream, so who’s the real winner here?” Jisoo turned a page from her book and sipped on a rootbeer float you prepared for her.

“I have books I’d rather read.”

“But you’re getting paid now! And more money means more books!”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Jisoo was right. Instead of verbally admitting it, you took away her rootbeer float and with that, you two jokingly bickered over your slight stubbornness.

The familiar jingle from the entrance door rang and a boy you both knew walked in with three kids who seemed over-excited to be there.

The boy was Kim Taehyung and the only reason why you knew him was because Jisoo had mentioned him a few times and how his friends were always hanging out near the bleachers, blastic music through speakers during lunch and after school. You never spoke to him and you’ve never really gotten in close proximity with him until now. He mumbled something to the kids he was with and strided over the Jisoo who seemed less enthusiastic about the conversation. The kids ran up to the glass that shielded the ice cream flavours and they easily distracted you from focusing on whatever he was talking about with Jisoo.

“At least just think about it.” Taehyung slowly walked towards the register where you were punching in his total.

“Five dollars and thirty-two cents.” You squeezed into his one-sided conversation.

Quietly, he reached into his wallet and brought out the exact change, recounting the cents over and over just to make sure it was correct.

“Jisoo, just think about it and if not, I’ll just relay the message to him—thank you.” He gently plucked the receipt from your hand and gathered the kids who were happily eating their dessert.

“Fine.” Jisoo sighed, not looking up from her book. Taehyung breathed a quiet thank you to her and motioned the kids towards the door.

Before you could even ask, Jisoo answered your question for you.

“I swear, Seo Joon needs to run his errands himself instead of making Taehyung do it.” She slammed her book shut. “I already told him that I don’t want to get back together.”

“Didn’t you two break up like two months ago?” You asked.

“Yes! Since he thought it was a good idea to ‘fake break up’ with me as a dare or whatever, then he’s going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“Spicy.” You commented.

“Exactly. Now, another refill on that rootbeer float because god knows I need it.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

A new week, yet the same routine. You woke up that morning, did your usual morning rituals, and walked down to the ice cream parlour with an audiobook playing through your earphones.

Hours ticked on and families came and went, looking for a cold oasis in the heat. You were on the floor with your manager that afternoon and luckily you got along just fine with him.

An elderly woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Song was a regular at the parlour since she was a teenager. So, when she saw a new face, your face in particular, she was elated.

She came into the parlour with her caretaker every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. They sat at the same seats near the counter and ate the same flavour every visit; mint chip for the caretaker and neapolitan for Mrs. Song.

Mrs. Song was a sweet old lady who easily forgets a lot of things. Whenever she saw you and Jisoo, she would always refer to you two as “sweetheart” or “deary”; you loved it whenever she called you that.

The parlour wasn’t as busy except for a few members from the city’s little league came in with their parents. Mrs. Song was reading through a newspaper and her caretaker had her nose inside of a book. You had just finished sweeping from behind the register when the bell of the entrance door rang when a familiar dark haired boy walked in with three younger kids who seemed high in spirits.

Taehyung was a stranger to you, so you weren’t looking for any sort of conversation with him. But you did have a feeling that he was probably going to ask you about Jisoo. The three kids sat on the remaining counter seats, waving sweetly at Mrs. Song who seemed excited to see them.

Taehyung approached the casing where the tubs of ice cream were and you were hoping your manager was going to take his order, but after a quick look around the room, he wasn’t present.

Good grief. You set aside the broom and glided towards the ice cream flavors.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The tone of your customer service voice disgusted you.

“Yeah uh, can I have three small cups of cookies and cream, chocolate, and rocky road.” Taehyung hummed as you reached for three cups. “What flavor do you recommend?”

You stared at the flavors for a moment before grabbing the ice cream scooper. “I personally like chestnut praline and brownie crunch.”

He nodded his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek, still indecisive on what flavor he wanted.

“Would you like a sample of both?” You asked.

“Hm, sure.”

You grabbed two plastic spoons and scooped up a tiny portion of each flavor for him to try and as he pondered his choices, you finished up the kids’ orders and set it in front of them.

“I’ll just take brownie crunch in the medium cup, please.” Taehyung spoke whilst throwing away the spoons in the nearby trash can.

As you were scooping the amount into the cup, you glanced at Taehyung who was pulling out a couple of bills out of his wallet. He looked over at the kids who were having a great time listening to Mrs. Song tell a story.

“That’ll be seven dollars and seventy-two cents.” You handed over the cup with a napkin wrapped around it.

Taehyung handed you two five dollar bills and took a bite of his ice cream.

“You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.” Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.” You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

“That’s me.” There was a brief moment of silence between you two as he lazily stuffed the change into his pocket. “Well, I’ll see you around. Let’s go guys.”

The three little boys waved goodbye to Mrs. Song and her caretaker. Her eyes lit up as she watched them leave the parlour. She then turned to you and said with a smile, “your boyfriend works well with kids, sweetheart.”

There was no point in telling her otherwise because she was probably not going to remember who Taehyung was the next time she was going to see him. So, you just smiled politely and wiped down the counter with a small towel.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your day offs never seemed to recharge your battery to its fullest capacity, but it was enough for you to wind down with a book and an iced tea.

Although today wasn’t one of those days.

It was a warm and slow late afternoon. You were sitting on a stool behind the register, reading one of your books and drinking a milkshake your manager made for you. You were heavily invested in your book that you almost didn’t hear the door open.

To your surprise, Taehyung walked in with his head down and his shoulders dipped forward. As he walked closer to the counter, you noticed multiple splotches of dirt and grass all over his clothes. There was also a fresh gash the size of a golf ball on his knee.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?!” You snapped your book shut with your bookmarker almost sliding out. He was going to take a seat at one of the stools at the counter but you guided him to one of the tables so he has back support.

“My cousin had little league practice and a some of the kids’ chaperones and I decided to have a little game of our own.” Taehyung explained and slowly lifted his injured leg to rest on the second chair you pulled out for him. “I was going for home base and slid towards it as if my life depended on it—I mean, my team won, but at what cost?” He winced as he adjusted himself in the chair.

“Hold on, I’ll get a first aid kit.” You disappeared in the back room and quickly returned with a large white box.

Cleaning up cuts and scratches was a norm for you because of how much time you spent watching your little cousins at the park. It happened so often that it became it habit to carry band aids and alcohol pads in your bag.

“So, where’s your cousin?” You crouched beside him and rummaged through the box.

“He already had plans to play video games at his friend’s house after practice so he went there and I...ended up here.” Taehyung explained squeezing his eyes shut.

“And what brought you here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was just walking and—ow! Fuck!” His entire leg flinched at the sudden contact of his gash and the alcohol pad touching.

“Shit, sorry! I should’ve warned you, I’m so sorry!” On instinct, you blew on his gash to cool down the stinging of the alcohol--something you did for your cousins.

“It’s uh, it’s okay, sorry. You can continue.” Taehyung tightly gripped the hem of his shirt and looked away to brace for impact, so with caution, you proceeded to clean his wound.

There were broken hisses coming from him and he squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until his knuckles ghosted white. You glanced up at him once in a while and pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling. This sight was a complete 180 from what you see at school; he walked around with confidence seeping from every pore and right now all confidence disappeared.

“I don’t think there’s any bandage that’s big enough for this.” You moved around some of the objects inside of the first aid kit. “I’ll just patch it up with some gauze okay?” Taehyung weakly nodded his head, still not looking at his knee. In less than five minutes, you had his knee all patched up and ready to go.

“There you go. Just don’t forget to remove the gauze and clean your cut later.” You stood up, trying to not fall over from being crouched over for so long.

Taehyung nodded and when you returned from the back room, he thanked you for coming to his aid. He limped over to where the ice cream was and pondered his choices before ultimately choosing chestnut praline in a medium sized cup.

“Did Jisoo mention anything about Seo Joon?” He asked.

You thought about a few days ago when Jisoo ranted about how she was over Seo Joon and that he wanted nothing to do with him, but you bit your tongue knowing this wasn’t any of your business.

“No, nothing new.” You handed Taehyung his ice cream over the casing.

“Well, if you don’t mind, could you tell her to lay down the line with Seo Joon please? I swear it feels like I talked to her way more than he did.”

You weren’t sure if Taehyung meant to say that outloud because this really wasn’t your business. He stabbed around his ice cream and hopped over to the counter seat. Ever since Jisoo mentioned it, you were curious yourself, so you took the chance to ask him.

“Why does he make you do it instead of doing it himself?”

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck and you began to regret asking in the first place.

“I don’t...really know why. He asks me to do it and I just do it, I guess.” He simply stated. The tone of his voice sounded hesitant, but you decided not to dwell on it.

You hummed and made sure to receive Taehyung’s payment for the ice cream. You also hoped that this was going to be the last time you were going to have a conversation with him.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Of course, your hopes were shot down in one blow.

Two days after your encounter with Taehyung, you were working during a mild heatwave. The parlour was busier than normal, but thankfully it was nothing chaotic.

You had just served Mrs. Song her second cup of ice cream and your manager blended you a chocolate banana milkshake, telling you to take a break. The excitement in your eyes was hard to contain as you untied your apron and sat one seat away from Mrs. Song.

She was invested in putting together the same fifty piece puzzle she brought with her every other week, so you scrolled through your phone letting her be.

“Hey.” Taehyung’s voice came from out of nowhere, startling you. “You’re off today?”

“Hi.” You squeaked. “Just on break.”

He set his phone and wallet down in front of the seat next to you and took a five dollar bill as he walked to the register.

Not even five minutes passed and Taehyung slid onto the seat and stuffed his wallet with whatever change he had in his hand. Just at quick glance, you could already tell he ordered another cup of chestnut praline ice cream. Without saying another word, he took a bite out of his dessert and he mindlessly stared at the menu of other items that were sold at the parlour.

You took another quick peek at Taehyung who had the front of his hair tied messily into a short ponytail on the top of his head. The tank top he wore was slightly damp on the backside and his shoulder glistened whenever the sun or the ceiling lights hit it at a certain angle. The weather outside was scorching and you were grateful for being in a closed air-conditioned space.

The milkshake you were drinking was already halfway through and you didn’t even realize it. You were too focused on whether or not you should talk to Taehyung. It still felt awkward for you to start a conversation with him because, to put it simply, you really didn’t know how.

Conversations with Taehyung only happened by chance and out of pure convenience, but this time you weren’t behind the counter to serve him ice cream and he wasn’t writhing in pain from some sort of injury.

Duh, ask about his knee.

“How’s your knee?” You asked shly. Talking to him was also not necessary, but you felt compelled to do so.

He looked down which made your head automatically tilt downward; a layer of what looked to be fresh gauze was wrapped around his right knee.

“I have to limp around because of the gauze but other than that, it’s alright.” He twisted his leg to showcase his bandaged injury. “Thanks again, by the way. My mom thought nearly fainted when I got home.” Taehyung laughed as he said that which gave you leeway to laugh as well.

“Why?”

“She thought I got into a fight during my cousin’s practice especially because of all the dirt on my clothes.” Taehyung laughed with his entire body, almost falling over. “She look mortified. So we went out to buy gauze that night.”

“Your mom sounds like my mom. My mom tends to overreact even when it’s slightest injury.” You smiled to yourself.

“I know what you mean. They’re a bit dramatic, but they mean well.” Taehyung mixed around his ice cream. “It also doesn’t help the fact that I’m an only child, so I’m always getting the lecture ‘Taehyung, you’re my one and only baby blah blah blah.’”

The look on Taehyung’s face looked rather relaxed than annoyed as he said those words. It was a bit scary how you could relate because again, you two were polar opposites. Although, honestly, it was comforting in a way.

“I feel you.” You sighed. “But Jisoo is basically treated like family in my house, so I share those lectures with her.”

Taehyung left the plastic spoon in his mouth for a brief moment before speaking. “It must be great Jisoo has that relationship with your family.” He hung his head as scooped up a small portion of his ice cream.

“But you have Seo Joon, Minho, and the rest of your friends.”

“I--I don’t really invite them over.” He explained quietly and your eyes widened.

“Why not?”

Before Taehyung could answer you, your manager called your name to take over the register because of a conference call he had to take. You purse your lips together and apologized to Taehyung for cutting your conversation short. He waved it off with a smile and continued to feast on his dessert.

As you returned to the register to take an order for a family of five, you side-eyed Taehyung who was leaned towards his right, whispering and smiling with Mrs. Song. Unfortunately, you were too busy focusing on punching in numbers to focus on what they were saying and with Mrs. Song’s memory and imagination, their conversation could’ve been about anything.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your next day off fell on the perfect day; the summer heat was bearable so you decided to get yourself a free refreshing milkshake from the ice cream parlour and read a book under a large tree at the park.

Music played through your earphones as you crossed the street with a chestnut praline milkshake in your hand. The summer dress you chose to wear was a peach color made up of a very light material to keep yourself cool; it was also your favorite clothing item.

The park wasn’t overly crowded which was perfect. There were some families having picnics, kids were running all over the playground, and there was a group of people off in the distance. Near the entrance was the most exquisite looking tree that provided the right amount of shade in all angles and you automatically gravitated towards it.

You packed a large blanket in your satchel and as well as a second blanket to cover your legs if you decided to lie down because even if you were wearing safety shorts, you knew better. The slightest breeze, a perfect tree, a milkshake, and a good book made up your day off and you couldn’t be any more happier.

After switching your position a thousand times, you decided to sit cross legged to keep your dress pinned down with your milkshake in between your thighs. You mindlessly played with the tassels that surrounded your blanket and continued to read your book.

The sudden drop of a heavy object next to you scared you out of your wits and the milkshake you secured almost spilt all over your blanket. Heart racing, you looked up to find Taehyung looking down at you with a boxy grin plastered on his face. A skateboard was the object that had dropped on the grass beside you and he then stripped himself of the flannel he was wearing to cover a spot on your blanket for himself to sit on.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” You sighed, placing a hand over your chest. “And you could have just sat on my blanket.”

Taehyung slid his shoes off to imitate your position and sit cross legged as well. “I’m probably covered in dirt. My cousin had practice down there and we decided to have another baseball match.” He moved his limbs around for you take a look at his skin. “No injuries, just dirt.”

“Good.” You smiled and tried to focus on your book, but Taehyung continued to distract you by ripping out the grass beside him. The one thing that didn’t sit right with you was how did Taehyung spot your from all the way on the other side of the park? And even if he was able to recognize you, why was he sitting with you?

“Is that book for school?” He asked, taking a peek at the cover.

“No, just for the joy of reading.” You closed the book realizing there was no way you could stay focused. “Is the little league still practicing?”

“They should be done right about now. The team is going to the community pool and my cousin is sleeping over a friend’s house after.” Taehyung explained. “I was about to leave and then I saw you sitting all the way over here--why are you all the way over here?”

You laughed and took a sip out of your milkshake. “It’s a nice tree to sit under, wouldn’t you agree?”

Taehyung stole the condensated cup out of your hand and proceeded to drag out a long sip of your drink making your jaw hang.

“Yeah, it’s a good spot.” He nonchalantly said before leaning back to lie down. “And that’s a really good drink. Since when could you turn chestnut praline into a milkshake?”

You clenched your fist to stop yourself striking his stomach. “It’s literally on the menu, Taehyung. ‘Turn your favorite flavor into a milkshake.’”

Not a single word was breathed out by Taehyung for about two minutes, which was odd. Maybe it was the right time to continue reading.

“You know,” Taehyung started.

Or maybe not.

“I don’t know why, but it sounded different when you said my name.”

“How?” You scrunch your eyebrows together because what he said made no sense. It was his name. Why would it sound any different? “Did you want me to call you something else?”

“No, no, y/n. ‘Taehyung’ is fine.”

Taehyung never mentioned anything else after that. He laid there with his eyes closed and you didn’t know when, but he fell asleep at some point. You glanced back and forth from your book to him just to check and make sure he was still sleeping. It was difficult to not be hung up over what he mentioned, but if he wasn’t going to expand more on his thoughts then maybe it wasn’t important.

You stayed at the park for almost an hour; you even finished your book. It was tempting to not wake up Taehyung because he looked too peaceful to disturb, but it had to be done. After shaking his leg a few times and quietly calling his name (you were now feeling self conscious about the way you said his name), Taehyung woke up in a hazy state.

Taehyung assisted you in folding up your blanket and before gesturing you to leave first, he said, “see you.”

No “see you tomorrow” or “see you next week” just a plain “see you.” When were you going to see him again? Who knows.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride, y/n?” Jisoo handed you a paper bag and you handed her a rootbeer float in return.

You had thirty minutes till 9 pm which meant thirty more minutes till you could finally lock up and go home. Since you worked a long shift, Jisoo agreed to pick up a book from a bookstore that you preordered.

“Yes, Jisoo. It’s a nice night. It’s perfect for walking.” Jisoo blew her bangs upwards, obviously concerned about you walking home so late. “All of the late-night restaurants on this block are still open and I have my emergency whistle.”

You were stubborn, of course, Jisoo knew that first hand. So, she reached over the counter to squish your cheeks together. “Okay, fine. But you better text me when you get home!”

“I-prom-ise.” It was your turn to reach over and squish Jisoo’s cheeks.

“Okay. I have to go.” She released your face and held yours hands instead. “If anything happens—“

“Call you, yes, mom.” You gently pushed her away and laughed. “Just go, Jisoo.”

As Jisoo stepped backwards, she pointed towards her eyes and then towards yours indicating I’m watching you. But she meant that in the most endearing way possible. She was the sister you’ve always wanted, but god knows your mom wouldn’t know how to properly handle the both of you. So being friends was the best thing the world could offer.

Right before Jisoo’s entire body left the entrance, she was speaking to someone at the door and you could already tell who it was in your peripherals; none other than Taehyung. He waved at Jisoo then turned on his heel to greet you. You weakly waved at him because you were too distracted by Jisoo flailing her arms and giving you a thumbs up before fully skipping out the door.

“Hey.” Taehyung handed you a five dollar bill and at this point you didn’t need to ask him about his order. “Are you closing?”

“Yeah. My manager had to leave early because his babysitter couldn’t stay long today.” You handed him his chestnut praline ice cream in a medium cup. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders and took a large bite of his ice cream. “It was a nice night, decided to go for a walk.”

“A walk?” You questioned. “To the ice cream parlour.”

“Not exactly. Just, you know, around. Then I saw Jisoo through the glass and then I saw you.”

His words were casual, but he was everything but. He stared at the menu, indenting crescent shaped marks into the peaks of his ice cream with his spoon. You were trying your hardest to not make the atmosphere weird between you two, but Taehyung was already way ahead of you.

Taehyung sat quietly at the counter as you wiped around the register until he offered to help you clean up the parlour after he scarfed down his ice cream. You protested, reminding him that you were the employee but he kept his hand out, waiting for some sort of cleaning instrument; it takes one to know one, so you knew he was going to be stubborn if you didn’t comply. You eventually handed him a broom and dustpan to sweep up dining area while you took care of the areas behind the register and back rooms.

Cleaning with Taehyung felt almost therapeutic because he turned played some piano jazz from his phone to keep a gentle ambience for cleaning. He cracked jokes here and there but majority of the time was spent tidying in comfort.

“I guess I have to pay you now for helping me.” You joked, getting ready to lock up.

“I’ll take half of my payment in the form of free ice cream tomorrow.” He said quickly.

“And the other half?”

Taehyung turned the open side around to read closed and pondered his options. “I get to walk you at least halfway to your house since it’s late and all.”

You had to admit, you were grateful that Taehyung offered to walk you only half way because you didn’t feel comfortable revealing your home to him just yet. You were also convinced that Jisoo probably put him up to it since they spoke a little at the door, but when you brought it up to Taehyung, he denied the assumption.

“Hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, but only halfway.”

Taehyung trotted down the sidewalk beside you with his arms gently swaying at his sides. All the street lights were all working properly and just as you told Jisoo, the restaurants and pubs along the walkways were also quite lively; this made the walk a little less awkward.

But talking won’t hurt either.

“Did Seo Joon talk to Jisoo yet? Because she hasn’t mentioned him lately.” You asked.

“I honestly don’t know. He hasn’t said anything about her either.” Taehyung kicked a rock off the curb. “In my opinion, I think he’s wasting his time.”

You threw your hands up in the air in relief. “Exactly! Jisoo and I say that all the time. We don’t know why he’s always making you guys constantly ask Jisoo to give him another chance when she said no many times.”

“Yeah. No means no.”

A cyclist with a headlight was approaching ahead of you and on instinct, Taehyung tugged you by the hand to make more room for the man to pass through. As he biked past, he quickly yelped out a thank you and sped off into the night.

“At least he had the decency to say thank you.” Taehyung whispered.

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to stifle the stutter in your voice as you wriggled your hand out of Taehyung’s.

He could have easily grabbed your forearm or even simply tell you to move to the side. Instead, he boldly took your hand into his and even held onto it for about five more seconds after the cyclist biked past.

For the rest of the way, you two remained silent only increasing the awkward tension. Even after thanking him and saying bye, you couldn’t stop think about holding his hand. It was annoying because you had no reason to be thinking about it this hard. It annoyed you so much to the point you called Jisoo as soon as you got him because god, you felt like you were going crazy.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised, y/n. When I asked what he was doing at the parlour he said he wanted to see you.”

You quickly sat up on your bed and practically yelled, “really?! But why?!”

“Who knows and I don’t mean to offend you in any way, I promise but, isn’t that kind of weird?”

“No, I know what you mean.” You scratched your head and fell back against your pillows. You obviously didn’t know Taehyung as long as Jisoo had, but you never saw him flirt much with other or even just hang around with other people besides his crew.

“If he’s trying to flirt with you, he’s doing a bad job.”

“Jisoo!”

Jisoo laughed in your ear. “I’m kidding, y/n. But honestly, Taehyung is nothing like Seo Joon’s dumbass, but just be careful.”

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Maybe talking to Jisoo was a bad idea. The whole day at work you couldn’t stop thinking about holding hands with Taehyung and hearing her words be careful. She was just being protective of course and you weren’t going to stand there and lie to yourself and say that Taehyung isn’t a good guy. You only thought that way in the beginning because he hung around Seo Joon, but so far, Taehyung has been nothing but nice to you. But Jisoo was right, you had to be careful.

You drummed your fingers against the countertop. There had been multiple moments where you zoned out because of your own thinking. It had to stop.

“Hi, y/n.”

But how could it stop when you owed Taehyung free ice cream.

“Hey, Taehyung. Your ice cream is ready and waiting.”

He sat patiently at the counter and you caught him smiling at you while scooping the ice cream into a cup.

“Are you closing again today?”

You looked at the clock behind you.

2:32 PM

“No, I opened, so I’m getting off at five.”

Taehyung mouthed the word five and took a large bite out of his ice cream. He sat in silence while you cared for other customers that came in. He even smiled and waved at one of the toddlers who shyly hid behind her father’s leg. Taehyung cooed for her to give him a high five and after making some embarrassing faces, she emerged from her hideout and skipped over to give Taehyung a high five.

You couldn’t help but smile. Taehyung outside of school was a whole new person. He seemed more independent and gentle rather than the rowdy demeanor he gives off at school.

Why was someone like Taehyung hanging around a jerk like Seo Joon? Seo Joon had an inflated ego and believed he could have anything he wanted. Taehyung, on the other hand, was the complete opposite--although, you couldn’t say much because you never spent a significant amount of time with him.

God, y/n. It’s sounding like you want to spend more time with him.

“Are you busy after work, y/n?” Taehyung wiped his mouth with a napkin and inched closer to the register.

You gave it some thought. “No…? No, I don’t think I am. Why?”

“Well…” He started off quietly. “The little league is having a late practice and I was wondering if you wanted to come by and watch.”

Just when you were thinking about spending time with Taehyung, the universe read your mind. It was a very tempting offer and this would give you a chance to get to know him better--in a friendly way of course. So, you happily accepted and he gave you instructions to where he would be at the park for you to find him.

“I’ll see you later then, y/n.” Taehyung discarded his trash and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah.” You breathed. “Bye Taehyung.”

As Taehyung started to walk out the door, he looked back to wave and the smile he wore looked genuine, making you smile unknowingly.

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The next few hours flew by in a blink of an eye. One second you were refilling the sugar cone stack and next you were walking out of the parlour with two chestnut praline milkshakes in each hand. The milkshakes were a last minute idea, plus a ziploc bag of snacks in your satchel.

The dim rays of the sun hit your skin, but it wasn’t as hot as noon time. You passed through area of the park where most families were stationed--near the playground and bathrooms. Just beyond that was an open area where you spotted the dugout and playing field.

The closer you got, the sight of children running around with their baseball gloves and their parents watching from the side. You walked around the large diamond, past the dugout and found Taehyung sitting cross legged on the lush grass. He was cheering on the team and in the midst of that, your presence caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey!” He called out with a boxy grin.

“Hi.” You waddled over and handed him his milkshake before sitting beside him.

“Thank you, but you really didn’t need to.” Even if he said that, he excitedly took a long sip out of his refreshment.

“It’s still warm out so I thought this would help while we watch--oh! I also packed some cookies.” You pulled out one of the ziplocs filled with a mixture of oreos, chocolate chip, and shortbread cookies. “We crush them for toppings.”

Taehyung smiled gratefully and proceeded to pull out an oreo. He then pointed out his cousin and explained their current game plan. You had little to no knowledge about baseball and Taehyung patiently answered your questions to the best of his abilities.

“Wow. So did you play baseball too?” You asked.

“No. I actually didn’t play much sports. I just learned from my cousin’s dad because he coached a little league team on the side before his firm skyrocketed.” Taehyung told you stories about his childhood and how he was intrigued with baseball despite never being on a team. He laughed while telling you that the reason why he never joined his uncle’s little league team was because his mom didn’t want him to get hurt.

“And apparently she still carried on the same ethic as you went onto high school.” You joked.

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Taehyung let out a deep chuckle. “How about you? Any sports?”

You scrunch your nose and shook your head. “I was, and still am, a bookworm.”

The parents and other spectators began to cheer and on an instinct, you and Taehyung did the same even if you two had no idea what was going on with the game. After the cheering died down, Taehyung smoothly continued the conversation.

“What kind of books do you like to read?”

“I like young adult fiction and psychological thrillers.” You answered shyly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows and popped a shortbread cookie into his mouth. “I would have never guessed that you liked to read psychological thrillers.”

“Do I look that much of a goody two shoes?”

“N-No, of course not. It’s just that...uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to fish for words that wouldn’t offend you.

“I’m kidding, Taehyung.” You snickered. “I know I don’t look like it, I own a lot of psychological thriller books. It’s unbelievably captivating. ”

“Well, maybe you could recommend a book for me. I don’t read much and you seem to know what’s good.”

Naturally, your eyes lit up. Jisoo didn’t prefer psychological thrillers because she got nightmares easily and your other friends weren’t as much as a bookworm as you were. “Yeah, of course. I’d probably have to look through my selection to find something that’s not too scarring for you to start with.”

Taehyung settled his his milkshake in between his legs and fiddled with his fingers. He stared up into the cotton candy sky for a brief moment. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, exchange numbers so you could let me know when you found a book?”

You weren’t going to sit there and lie to yourself and say that his request didn’t make your heart skip a beat. Things weren’t being rushed, right? It was just his phone number. It’s not like he was asking you out on a date on the spot.

“Sure, yeah.” You gave him your number and within seconds, you received a text that contained a string of book emojis. “I guess I’ll start looking through my bookcase when I get home later.”

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After that early evening at the park, you and Taehyung texted almost everyday. He still came by to visit you at the ice cream parlour. Most days he came with his cousin and his cousin’s friends and other days, he came by on his own. Whenever he visited when you worked the closing shift, he always walked you halfway home; it sort of became a ritual.

This type of connection with a boy didn’t always come by, so it was something you gladly and cautiously shared with Jisoo. You expected her to be hesitant about the whole thing, but she was completely on board the ship. She was still reminding you to keep yourself guarded, but she promised to be supportive no matter what was going to happen between you and Taehyung.

You lended Taehyung three of your books since then and after he completed a book, he would rant to you about the plot, certain characters he disliked, and he even told you that he was a slightly paranoid for two nights; you did warn him about that.

The air was oddly cooler that evening which made it a pleasant walk home. Your dad was picking out a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge in the dining while you were splayed lazily on your sofa, returning texts from Jisoo, Taehyung, and your dad--as a joke.

“How was work, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Kind of slow, but I got to try out some flavours that the parlour is going sell during the fall.” You flipped over onto your side and scanned his bottle choice. “Why don’t you go with chardonnay? It’s mom’s favorite and she’s been working long hours this whole week?”

Your dad stared at the bottle of cabernet and nodded his head. “You know, your knowledge about wine is concerning.”

“You and mom are wine drinkers, of course I would know.” You laughed.

Jokes were exchanged between you and your dad while the smell of garlic and basil floated throughout the room. You were having a great time teasing your dad that you almost didn’t noticed your phone vibrating on the sofa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, are you busy?”

“No, no, Taehyung.  I’m just at home. What’s up?”

Taehyung never called you, so this was a curveball.

“I’m actually going to sleepover my cousin’s house tonight and tomorrow, so I wanted to return your book and borrow the next one before I head over there; just so I can have something to do to pass the time while I’m there.”

“I--uh,” You glanced at your father who was mixing what looked to be like a pasta salad. “Yeah, you can stop by. I’ll text you my address and just let me know when you’re here.”

This would be the first time Taehyung would be anywhere near your house. He always walked you halfway, never two-thirds or three-fourths of the way. You were nervous, probably for no reason since he was only dropping off a book.

Ten minutes, you received a here text that was accompanied by a smiley emoji. You already informed your dad, so you skipped outside to find Taehyung standing awkwardly next to your mailbox.

“Hey, did you walk all the way here?”

“Nah, skateboard.” Taehyung moved to the side the reveal his skateboard that was planted on the patch of grass surrounding your mailbox. “Here you go.”

Taehyung handed you the novel in exchange for the next book.

“So, how’d you like it?”

Taehyung blew out a breath and shook his head. “That...was quite the read. I wasn’t expecting her to be the cult leader’s daughter like what?!” He expressed his shock by flinging his hands out in front of him. “And that chase? I was clenching my ass cheeks reading that part.”

You laughed, recalling how your entire body seized up reading that exact same scene. “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. I finished this novel in one day.”

“Damn.” He breathed. “How about this one--The Dead House? How is it?”

“I guess you’re going to have to read it to find out yourself.” You smiled slyly at him and he scoffed with a similar smile.

The sound of a car pulling in caught both of your attentions. Your mother waved at you through the windshield and exited the car. On the inside, you were desperately praying hard for your mom to not embarrass you in any way.

“Hi honey.” She slipped a swift kiss to your cheek and stuck her hand out towards Taehyung. “And you must be Taehyung. Y/n tells me that she’s been recommending you books.”

Taehyung nervously wiped his hand at the bottom of his shirt before making contact with your mother’s. “Y-Yes, ma’am. That’s me, I’m that Taehyung.”

Your mom smiled sweetly at him and then turned to face you. “Well honey, why don’t we have Taehyung for dinner? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

Your jaw hung open and you exchanged glances between your mom and Taehyung. You shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head towards him. “Are you busy?”

He also shared anxious glances towards you and your mom before answering. “No, n-no. I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Anxiety built up as you watched Taehyung shake hands with your dad. They knew he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the only reason they were this excited was because you haven’t had a single guy come over for dinner since your freshman year. There were fifteen minutes left on the oven, so your mom, being as sweet as she was, instructed you to show Taehyung your bookcases.

“Wow.”

Taehyung scanned the walls of your room that were splattered with a pale yellow and white paint that were designed in vertical stripes. The floors of your room were a mahogany wood that was consistent with your entire house and in the middle of your room was a pearl white coffee table sitting on top of a large dark gray circular rug.  There were two bean bag chairs surrounding the table and small stack of magazines on top.

Beside your desk in the corner of your room were two large off-white bookcases; it looked as if you were almost in desperate need of a third one. He tiptoed over and gently ran his finger over a couple of the spines of a row of books.

“I never pictured your room to be like this.” Taehyung commented.

“And how did you picture it?” You sunk down onto one of the bean bag chairs and he followed in suit.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Bigger? And maybe...light purple?”

You threw your head back and laughed. “I like things comfy and cozy. When we first moved here, my parents wanted me to take the office room down the hall, but apparently I threw a tantrum because this was the room I wanted.”

“You threw a tantrum? Now that is something I have to witness.”

“No, no it’s not.”

For the next fifteen minutes, you answered Taehyung’s questions about your room and even shared stories from your childhood when you first moved in. He learned that you’ve lived in this house your entire life, but only started attending your current high school at the beginning of freshman year because your dad switched office locations.

“Do you miss your old friends?” He asked quietly.

“I do, but I mean, we still talk frequently so it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.” You explained. “And plus, I’ve made amazing friends at our school.”

Taehyung flashed you the shyest smile before hiding it behind the back of his hand. Your statement was meant for your girlfriends, but Taehyung was silently woven into it too. You had to admit, he was a great friend. Ever since you started texting him almost everyday, talking to him was so much easier; conversations weren’t forced anymore and you breathed fine around him.

Your dad called you two from the door and apologized for not asking Taehyung if he was vegetarian at the beginning. Of course, you knew he wasn’t.

The menu was baked chicken with rice and mixed vegetables. There was also a bowl of pasta salad which Taehyung become quite fond of; your dad ended up packing a small serving of the pasta to take home with him. To add on the constant generous gestures, he even offered to drive Taehyung home since the sun had gone down, but Taehyung politely declined, stating that his home was just a ten minute skateboard ride away.

“Your parents are great.” Taehyung walked down the driveway after shaking your parents’ hands and thanking them for dinner.

“They’re just being that way because you’re here.” You giggled and handed him the styrofoam bowl of pasta you held for him.

Taehyung sighed into the night sky and ruffled his hair. “Tonight was one of the best nights I had in awhile. Thanks again for having me.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’m glad you had a nice time.”

He placed his skateboard on the sidewalk and took a step forward towards you. He extended his arms outward and enveloped you in a hug which caught you completely off guard. Although, the slightest hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his torso and heard his deep laughter vibrate near your ear.

“I’ll see you later then.” Taehyung whispered, slowly letting you go.

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It was difficult for you to function for the next few days all because Taehyung gave you a hug. This wasn’t fair. How were you supposed to focus on your books and your job if you were so preoccupied with a measly hug.

Jisoo was ecstatic about the idea. She teased you about it because it had been way too long since you’ve been worked up over a guy. You almost didn’t tell her because you knew how she would react, but Jisoo was your best friend so you had to tell her.

The parlour was just starting to die down and you were listening to Mrs. Song passionately talk about her late husband and how he always brought home at least one kind of flower whenever he came home from work. Her caretaker probably heard these stories over a hundred times, but she listened and smiled as if it were her first time hearing it.

“He sounds like a great man, Mrs. Song.” You said with the brightest smile.

“Oh, deary! He was an amazing man. Find yourself a gentleman who is never afraid to show you off and show how much he cares for you.” As Mrs. Song said that, she reached over to grasp onto your hands.

“Of course, ma’am. I will.” You squeezed tightly onto her frail hands and felt your chest cave it. Meeting Mrs. Song was one of the greatest things to ever happen in your life.

Mrs. Song’s caretaker tidied up the ice cream cups and newspaper that she brought which indicated that it was time for them to head back home. They both waved you goodbye and Mrs. Song took small steps with her walker towards the door.

Just on time, you spotted Taehyung through the glass and he rushed to the entrance door to open the door for Mrs. Song. She held onto Taehyung’s hand and they exchanged a few words which were too hushed to hear from where you were. But as they were departing, Taehyung caught you staring and shot you a smile before you shyly turned away.

“You know,” Taehyung began. “Staring is rude.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and provided him with his usual order. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, can I order tubs of ice cream in advance?” Taehyung asked.

“Uh, yeah. But only in these flavours.” You rummaged through some papers that were stashed inside a compartment.

He plucked the paper out of your hands and read through the list. “I’ll take a gallon of rocky road, neapolitan, and--sucks there’s no chestnut praline.” You both chuckled and Taehyung continued to stare at the list. “And a gallon of vanilla.”

You punched in numbers into the register and Taehyung already had his card out waiting to pay.

“Having a party?” You questioned and ripped out the receipt. “Just bring this receipt whenever you come in to grab the ice cream.”

“The little league is having a celebration on Thursday because gameday is on Wednesday and the coach said win or lose, they’re going to celebrate no matter what.” He folded up the receipt and slipped it into his wallet. “My cousin begged me to order ice cream from here.”

If the two of you didn’t start texting, maybe you two wouldn’t be making jokes and having easy conversations at the moment. Taehyung had such a lovely personality hidden beneath his bad boy persona and it bothered you that he didn’t act this way in school. Would Seo Joon not want to be his friend anymore? Because that’s what high school was--a hotspot for teenagers to do whatever they could to fit in and find friends. Thankfully Jisoo’s eldest sister gave the two of you a talk about being never turning yourself into someone you’re not just to make people like you.

If only Taehyung got the same talk.

“Hey, the summer night festival is next week friday, are you going?” He asked you softly.

The summer night festival was a one night community shindig that was held the last friday before all the kids went back to school on the Monday of the following week. It had been a tradition for as long as you could remember and your family never missed the event.

“I totally forgot about that, but yeah I am. I go every year with my parents.”

Taehyung nodded his head and fidgeted with his hands. “Well, if your parents don’t mind, could I steal you at some point during the festival?”

Like a date?

The words in your head made you stop breathing for a few seconds and you were hoping your cheeks weren’t reflecting how hot they were feeling.

“I--uh--” Taehyung chuckled at the flustered look you had on your face. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind you stealing me, but they would probably mind if you didn’t say hello.”

“I promise I’ll say hi to your parents.” Taehyung stood up and tucked his hair back underneath his hat. “I’ll see you then.”

Out of nowhere, Taehyung slid his hand against the counter and curled his fingers around your own. He gave you a light squeeze and proceeded to walk out of the parlour.

You tried your hardest to suppress your smile at the simple touch of his fingers. It wasn’t just the touch of his fingers that sparked your smile. It could easily be a text message, seeing him enter the ice cream parlour, or sharing eye contact with you. He made you laugh easily with stories he tells and even his laugh alone was contagious. You had difficulty in controlling the butterflies inside of you every time you saw him, but granted, you were doing a fairly good job at doing so.

It was terrifying and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you liked Taehyung. You really did.

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“Thanks for bringing me along, mom and dad. I wish my parents didn’t have to finish late tonight.” Jisoo had her arm linked around yours as the four of you trotted down the pavement into the town.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just don’t forget to bring your dad some of the grilled corn this time.” Your father reached out to gently tug on a lock of Jisoo’s hair.

You had already told Jisoo about meeting with Taehyung so she wouldn’t think you’re going to ditch her out of nowhere. She, without a doubt, understood and made you promise to call her if anything went wrong. You were expecting that kind of response. It was Jisoo.

The festival had already begun. Children were walking around with their parents holding sticks of cotton candy and a balloon animal in the other. Teenagers were swarming around some of the games to win large stuffed animals for their significant others and there was also a dunking booth that the teachers from the different high school were running. The intoxicating smell of food filled the air and you could already taste the chocolate funnel cake in your mouth. After promising your parents that you would link up with them soon, Jisoo dragged you to the deep fried twinkies booth.

For the next two hours, time was spent with Jisoo eating and trying to not spend a lot of money on games you had zero skills in. Jisoo walked back to the bench you two were sitting on with two cups of iced sweet tea.

“Did Taehyung call you yet?” She asked excitedly.

“Not yet--why are you so excited about this?” You laughed and snatched your drink away from her.

“Because this is exciting! You don’t agree? But anyway, he’s probably not even here yet. I saw Seo Joon and his boys when I was in line, but I didn’t see Taehyung with them.”

On an impulse, a sigh escaped your mouth. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t stand you up or at least you hope he didn’t.

“Did Seo Joon see you?” You asked.

“No, thank you god. I haven’t heard from him in a while so I guess I owe Taehyung one--speaking of the devil.” Jisoo pointed towards your phone that had Taehyung’s name displayed across the screen. She nudged you to answer and you hated how nervous you were feeling.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, I couldn’t leave my house until my dad got home. Where are you?”

You looked around the crowd to see if you could find him before he found you. “I’m sitting with Jisoo near the sweet tea and peach cobbler booths. I’m wearing a red shirt.”

“Red shirt...peach cobbler… I can’t see--oh, there!”

You whipped your head around and Jisoo did the same. Taehyung flailed around in his white graphic t-shirt and scurried along with sidewalk with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Hi, hey, Jisoo.” Taehyung greeted while taking deep breaths.

“Hi, Taehyung.” Jisoo returned the greeting and stood up. “Before I go and link up with your parents y/n--thanks Tae for whatever you did to get Seo Joon off my back. It has made my summer a lot more relaxing.”

Taehyung cocked his head and smiled. “I, uh, I don’t really know what I did either, but you’re welcome. Maybe he just got tired of chasing? But whatever happened, it’s good to know that he’s out of your hair.”

They exchanged a few more words and you smiled at the both of them. It was comforting to know that Jisoo was able to get along with Taehyung at the moment. You remembered when you first encountered Taehyung in close proximity, Jisoo was barely communicating with Taehyung and when she did speak to him, she spoke to him in a cold manner. Now, Jisoo was laughing and making direct eye contact with the same guy.

“Geez, y/n.” Jisoo squished your cheeks together. “If I have something on my face, just say it.”

“You seriously have a bad habit in staring.” Taehyung added in.

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“Okay, okay. Don’t gang up on me.” You playfully swatted Jisoo’s hands away and jabbed a finger at each of their legs. “But, we’ll accompany you to wherever my parents are. Taehyung is going to say hi to them.”

After a few calls, your mom finally picked up and directed you three to some sort of game booth where your dad was struggling to win at least one game. Your parents exchanged greetings as soon as your dad landed a win. They briefly spoke, asking if Taehyung’s parents were around the festival too and if he had eaten.

“My parents weren’t able to come tonight and not yet, sir. I was going to buy something for y/n and I.” Taehyung was obviously still nervous around your parents, especially your dad, but it was only natural.

“Well, you two have fun. I’ll call you if we decide to leave early and don’t forget that Jisoo is here too.” Your mom squeezed Taehyung’s shoulder and Jisoo pushed you to stand next to him.

“Okay mom and yes, I won’t forget about Jisoo.” You waved goodbye with a rapid beating heart. This wasn’t your first time spending alone time with Taehyung, but this was the first time you were going to be alone with him knowing that you admitted to yourself that you like him.

Everything was going to be fine as long as you acted normal around him. This meant no stuttering and no over-selling your normality. But could you really pull this off?

“You alright?” Taehyung poked your side, making you flinch.

“Y-Yeah. I’m all good.” You answered fairly quickly.

Of course, you couldn’t pull this off.

“By the way, are you sure you just want breadsticks? The pizza here is top notch.” Taehyung swept your behavior under the rug which you were grateful for.

“Yeah, Jisoo and I ate a little too much desserts. I swear that girl can eat desserts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Taehyung stepped to side to swiftly retrieve his order and you were able to catch a whiff of his cologne or body wash or something; it was an earthy citrusy scent that tickled your nose. After returning to you, he helped guide you through the crowd with a careful hand on your lower back making sure not to lose amongst the sea of people.

“If only the ice cream parlour was open. I could go for a milkshake.” He commented.

“Yeah, we closed early because of the festival, sorry.” You looked around the area. “They have rainbow lemonade? That sounds interesting, I mean, it’s no milkshake but still.”

You offered to make the purchase for the both of you but Taehyung constantly pushed you to let him pay for the drinks. Ultimately, he took the win for that.

The festival was still at its peak, so there were still large amounts of crowds which made it difficult to canvass the nearby spots for a bench. The park lights were still on, so Taehyung made the executive decision to park yourselves there to eat. It wasn’t as hot as most nights which made sitting at one of the picnic tables under a lampost more enjoyable.

The garlic and basil breadsticks Taehyung ordered for you were scrumptious and he even let you have the first bite of his pizza  to show you what you were missing out on. He told you about how he meant to be at the festival earlier, but his mom was still at work and his dad wanted him to wait for him so someone could be at home to watch their dog.

“Aw, you have a dog?” Your eyes lit up and you clasped your hands together.

“Yeah, our neighbor’s dog gave birth recently so he’s still a puppy.” Taehyung showed you his lock screen to present an adorable ball of fluff with the largest grin on its face. “His name is Yeontan.”

You squealed and stole his phone out of his hands. “He is the cutest! I’d give him the world if I could.”

“I wanted to bring him out for you to meet him, but we have yet to finish up his shots.” He explained, smiling at you.

“Maybe next time?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He took his phone back and stared at his lockscreen for a few seconds. “Or you could come over some time? Just so Tannie doesn’t have to leave my house.”

“I’d…” You started. “I’d love that.”

Going over to Taehyung’s house would mean that there was a chance you would meet his parents. It made you wonder if Taehyung talked about you just like how you talked about him around your family. You thought you were a genuinely good person and you haven’t done anything to hurt Taehyung at some point for him to say anything that could tarnish his parent’s first impression about you.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“By any chance, does your parents know about me?” You cautiously asked.

Taehyung smiled bashfully and nodded his head. “My mom was pleased to know that you’re a reader and you were the one who helped me get patched up that one time. Thanks again, y/n.”

“It’s no problem. I’m pretty sure your mom would’ve had a meltdown if you went home without any bandages whatsoever.” You laughed, thinking about the times Taehyung would shake his head yet speak about his mom endearingly.

“That’s definitely true.” He agreed. “My parents are dying to meet you though, so maybe on your next day off or when you finish early, you could stop by.”

“It’s a date.”

Both of your eyes widened and you choked on your saliva realizing there was no way you could save yourself from that one. The words came out automatically and you were already used to saying it towards Jisoo and your other girlfriends, but with your feelings towards Taehyung, this time was different. You couldn’t help but think that you screwed everything up at that moment because you couldn’t distinguish the look Taehyung had on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or disgusted.

“Y-Yeah,” Taehyung mumbled, trying to hide his face behind his hand. “It’s--It’s a date.”

It felt as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. You tried to justify everything by telling yourself that he was jokingly agreeing with you, but on the inside, you were praying that he meant it the same way you did.

A brief moment of awkward silence washed on shore and it almost sealed the deal in making you think that you really did screw up big time. Taehyung cut the silence in half by clearing his throat and then scooting closer to you.

“You know, y/n,” Taehyung gulped loudly and planted his elbow on top of the table, resting his cheek on his palm to look at you. “I never imagined myself spending the summer reading and constantly visiting the ice cream parlour.”

“I never expected to be working at all this summer. My mom was the mastermind behind my employment.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad she encouraged you to work.” Taehyung held his gaze with you. “I got to meet you.”

How could Taehyung look at you the way he was at the moment and say I got to meet you. Your face was probably beet red and you couldn’t control your smile at that point. There was a lot you wanted to say to him like I love hanging out with you and something corny like we should go thank my mom then. But you stared at him, with your words stuck in your throat and a stupid smile plastered on your face.

“I spent a lot of money on ice cream, but it was worth it.” Taehyung continued with his words, making your heart rate spiral out of control.

“You’ve become a loyal customer.” You joked, making a deep sound of laughter bubble from his throat.

“Yeah, yeah I have.” He said in between laughs. “You’re to blame though.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“No , no, you did a lot, y/n. Trust me.”

“And what exactly have I done, Taehyung?” You asked with a mischievous tone of voice.

Taehyung moved a couple of inches closer to you and you remained still. “First of all, you patched up my wounds. You introduced me to a new flavour of ice cream, you let me borrow your books which blossomed a new interest of mine.” You listened intently as Taehyung’s eyes grew softer. “You made me smile and laugh until my stomach hurt. You also understood my weird family dynamics. I feel less lonely and a lot happier nowadays and you’re to blame, y/n.”

Each word that fell from Taehyung’s lips turned you closer and closer into mush. You were denying the obvious which was mutual feelings because your worlds were similar yet different. There was no way someone like Taehyung could ever feel an ounce of anything towards you. This was usual assumption until you got to know him personally and see what kind of boy he really was. However, naturally, you were still in denial.

“You do know what I’m saying, right?” Taehyung asked and you just slightly parted your lips, scared to say what your heart was pushing you to say. “I’m saying… I like you, y/n. I really like you.”

The oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your chest. Out of all the things Taehyung could have said, you would would choose for him to say those words again and again. Your hands felt clammy and the rapid sound of your heartbeat was deafening in your ears.

“I just ruined things, didn’t I?” Taehyung snapped you back into reality and you noticed that he scooted a few inches away from you.

You frantically shook your head thinking that your silence ruined things. “No, Taehyung. S-Sorry, I’m just surprised that’s all.”

He nodded and blew out a shaky breath. Judging by the look on his face, Taehyung seemed as nervous as you were and you knew what you had to do to ease the tension.

“I...like you too, Taehyung.” You replied softly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. He then poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, exerting a breath of air. “R-Really? Are you sure?”

You laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sure you dummy. I’m awkward around a lot of people, especially boys, but not with you.” It was Taehyung’s turn to listen with his undivided attention. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately a-and you don’t even know how excited I get when I see you walk through the doors of the parlour or when you text me. My parents like you, it seems like Jisoo is becoming quite fond of you, and it’s so scary because  I don’t even think I’m your type so I hope you understand why I’m so shocked. I’m too quiet, I talk to myself sometimes--”

“Y/n.” Taehyung blurted your name out with a chuckle. “Just breathe for a second, okay? I don’t have a type. I don’t care if you talk to yourself or if you think you’re too quiet or whatever else you were going to say. I like you and that’s that.”

Taehyung cautiously cupped the back of your hand with his and looked at you as if you painted the stars in the sky with your own two hands. It was an odd feeling to have him look at you the way he did and yet, it was a reassuring feeling to know that he felt the same as you did.

The stars you apparently painted with your own hands were aligned perfectly. You twisted your hand around to have his palm up against yours until he eventually laced his fingers in between yours. Taehyung giggled softly as he gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

Out of all the events that happened throughout the entirety of summer, this was easily one of your favorites.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Oh my god! So, how cute is his dog?” Jisoo squealed.

“Ten out of ten such a good doggo and soooo adorable!” You showcased the photos you took on your phone. There was a large section of your gallery of Yeontan in multiple angles, some were blurry from him moving around too much,  and some had you and Taehyung in the photos. Jisoo gushed over the cutest little ball of sunshine and constantly made remarks about how lucky you were to have met Taehyung’s dog.

“You’re so lucky, y/n. Taehyung is sane and has the cutest dog son in the world. I wish my parents allowed me to have a pet other than a fish.” Jisoo said as she pulled into a parking stall at school. “Remind me to get a new parking pass after school.”

You two arrived at school forty-five minutes before the first tardy bell would ring and this was for the sake of student parking. With a lot of the current seniors taking their driver’s test over the summer, it was most likely the parking lot was going to fill up rather quickly.

Before heading onto campus, you both just sat in Jisoo’s car listening to music and chatting about how exciting senior year was going to be for the both of you. Senior year meant college campus tours, college fairs, senior getaway and prom. Not only was there going to be a lot of stress involved, you made a promise to yourself to not be as stressed as you were during junior year.

“I can’t believe we’re seniors, y/n.” Jisoo sighed. “And if you’re going to senior prom with Taehyung who the hell am I going to take couple pictures with?!”

“Whoa, whoa, stop right there, Kim Jisoo. I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.” You patted her hand.

Jisoo laughed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever, but the boy likes you. Before you know it, he’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend in the most cheesiest way possible!”

The idea of Taehyung doing that was adorable yet embarrassing and plus, Taehyung knew that you didn’t like show-offy events like it; the thought of it made you feel uncomfortable.

“You’re crazy.” You laughed. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up, Jisoo. It’s a new school year. It’s possible for Taehyung to meet somebody new in his classes and I can’t force him to just stick with him.”

Jisoo squinted her eyes at you and folded her arms across her chest. “God, I hate it when you’re right.” She reached for her backpack and turned off her car engine. “Well, enjoy what you have now, y/n and let me enjoy teasing you about Taehyung.”

She stuck her hand out and you laughed while shaking it. “Deal.”

Throughout the whole morning, Taehyung only texted you a good morning message and you were thinking he probably fell back asleep right after. You asked him if he had eaten breakfast yet in your reply and by the time you left your house, he still didn’t respond. Honestly, you wanted to ask him if he wanted to meet someone on school grounds, but it felt like it was too much of a gesture; maybe it was all in your head--the feeling of it being too much.

You stuck with Jisoo for majority of the time. She planned on taking you around the bleachers where Seo Joon and his crew hang out during lunch, but a lot of the new clubs were having welcome booths and the literary club was calling your names.

“Come on, y/n!” Jisoo gently tugged on your hand, heading towards the football field and bleachers.

It was ten minutes after the final bell rang and you told Jisoo about Taehyung only texting you once throughout the day and she found it suspicious. She continued to nag you to check if he was on campus, but you wanted to just leave it alone. It was probably your gut talking to you and as much as you knew you had to trust your gut feeling, you didn’t want to listen.

“Jisoo, I don’t know, I don’t…” Your voice trailed off and you stared at the tips of your shoes.

“Y/n.” Jisoo squeezed your hand and stared deep into your concerned eyes. “You know you have to. And because I love you, I’m going to go with you.”

At this point, you didn’t realize that your body was gravitating towards the football with Jisoo still holding tightly onto your hand. You didn’t want to look up from your feet and when you did, all oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your lungs.

Taehyung was sitting with the cluster of his friends at the bleachers, laughing and he even quickly checked his phone. There was a possibility that he was too caught up in catching up with his friends to text you another time or maybe he thought he replied to you but didn’t--it has happened a few times and he apologized when it happened. You were hoping for Jisoo to not say anything to get his attention, but Seo Joon called out before you could even tug her back towards the campus.

“Oh, hey, Jisoo.”

All at the same time, the group of friends turned towards you two and instantly, Taehyung’s eyes met yours. Jisoo continued to walk towards the bleachers not letting any of their stares bother her.

“We’re not here for you, Joon.” Jisoo snapped harshly at him and then stared down Taehyung. “Really, Taehyung?”

“Jisoo, stop.” You whispered.

All of Taehyung’s friends panned their heads from you and Jisoo to Taehyung. There was a look of panic on his face and already said everything that you needed to know. You wanted to run but your feet felt as if it was stapled to the ground. The air that was trapped inside of you was now released with one single blow.

“You’re friends with them?” Seo Joon questioned and first looked at Jisoo then back at you with a raised eyebrow.

You watched as Taehyung’s facial expression change from panic to sadness within seconds. “I--I don’t--” He stammered and slowly shrugged his shoulders.

Jisoo squeezed your hand tighter and she pointed an angry finger towards Taehyung. “Kim Taehyung, you fucking--”

“Jisoo, let’s go, please.” You interrupted Jisoo and hung your head down. You didn’t want to be there. You didn’t want to look at Taehyung. You just wanted to leave.

It took a lot for Jisoo to not cuss out Taehyung, you knew that. Instead, she complied with your request and took the lead in guiding you out of the football field and back to the parking lot. She didn’t say one more word and never let go of your hand the whole way there.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“THAT PIECE OF SHIT!” Jisoo threw her bag onto the concrete of your driveway. “Was he seriously going to stand there and look at you like you were a stranger?! Some fucking nerve he has!”

You sat on top of the hood of Jisoo’s car with your knees hugged to your chest. Thankfully, your parents were both still at work which meant you had the whole house to yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk inside.

“Maybe we’re taking this the wrong way, Jisoo.” You mumbled.  It was dumb to justify the look on Taehyung’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But that’s bullshit. You know that I know what Taehyung’s face looked like.” Jisoo raked her hand through her hair. “He obviously didn’t tell his friends about you and I hate that I know why.”

There was a stinging sensation in your eyes and you blinked it away. You also had a feeling why he wouldn’t tell his friends. It was your worst nightmare and it was all coming true. You buried your face between your knees and your chest, wanting to disappear.

“Hey, hey, not another step! Go away!”

You poked your head up and found Taehyung stuck dead in his tracks with Jisoo walking to stand by your side.

“Jisoo, just let me explain--”

“I don’t think so, Taehyung. We get it. She gets it.” It was sweet of Jisoo to stand up for you, but honestly, you wanted to hear it from Taehyung himself.

“It’s okay, Jisoo. I’ll be fine.” You whispered whilst climbing down from her car.

She changed her glances between you and Taehyung before sighing. “Okay. I’ll be in your room then,” She held her hand out and you planted your house keys onto her palm. “I won’t be nosy, I promise.”

After giving Taehyung a deadly gaze, Jisoo scooped up both of your backpacks and disappeared inside of your house.

Taehyung walked towards you with hesitation weighing in every step. The hurt in your eyes was obvious and it made looking at you hurt even more because he knew he was the reason for it.

“Y/n...I can explain…” Taehyung began taking deep breaths. “I didn’t tell them...about you…”

There were tears filling up your eyes and you tried to blink them away, but one single tear managed to trickle down your cheek.

“I didn’t tell them anything b-because…” Taehyung’s words fell like stones, dropping slower and slower. Your chest began to tighten and your cheeks started to flare up.

“Because you were embarrassed?! Is that why?” Your words shocked you just as much as it did for Taehyung but it was the reason that was blaring inside of your head the most and you had to put it out there. “I read books, I’m quiet, I’m obviously not the type of girl who would be seen with you.”

Taehyung let out a breath of air and tried to reach for your hand but you pulled away. “That’s not...that’s not the reason, y/n.”

You clenched your jaw and wiped the tears from your eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me, with confidence, that that’s not the reason why you didn’t tell them.”

He tilted his head back and combed his fingers through his hair. “Seo Joon mentioned once that he didn’t know how you and Jisoo became friends because you seemed different from her and--”

“And you didn’t want to tell him because you were afraid if you told him, he would make fun of you and tell you that you probably deserved better. Got it, Taehyung.”

“Y/n...Seo Joon is a fucking dick, okay? And he wouldn’t have let me live if he found out that I was involved with someone that he--he thought--” Taehyung watched as your tears resurfaced and he took in a sharp breath. “Y/n, I like you. You don’t know how much I fucking like you, isn’t that enough?”

There was a moment of silence before you answered. “You’ve been in my house and you met my parents. I know your little cousin and his friends, I met your parents and your puppy. Why is Seo Joon’s opinion so important to you, Taehyung?”

He grit his teeth and sighed. “I don’t know, y/n. But I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Me too.”

You wiped whatever tears were stained on your face then turned your heel to walk away. He called out your names and each time he called for you, tears welled and you covered your mouth to stifle your sobs. From your driveway to your front door, you never once looked back.

Was it wrong to think you didn’t deserve this? Every girl deserves someone who wasn’t afraid to be with them and this included you.

It almost didn’t occur to you that you arrived in your room until Jisoo said your name. You dragged your feet to your bed and slumped your body down against the mattress.

“It would...It would’ve been too embarrassing…” You sniffled. “...too embarrassing if Seo Joon knew…”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Jisoo immediately joined and curled up next to you, letting you bury your face into her shoulder to cry it all out. She stroked your hair, listening to you wail and question this had to happen to you.

Even with Jisoo in your room, you had never felt so alone.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Instead of quitting after summer, you decided to keep the job at the ice cream parlour because of the relationships you gained with your coworkers. Plus, when Jisoo told you that “more money meant more books,” it stuck with you.

The week stretched out a lot longer than you would’ve liked and as much as you wanted to relax on a Saturday, you were scheduled to work the afternoon shift. Even after sleeping in for a bit, you were feeling a bit groggy because your exhaustion caught up with you, but talking to Mrs. Song was making all exhaustion dissipate.

“School is just a mere distraction, deary. Marry a millionaire and you’ll be fine.” Mrs. Song instructed and her caregiver laughed and reminded her that you were still young and that you still had a lot to do in your life.

“Well, you do that, but don’t forget to marry a good man--have I told you about my late husband, sweetie?” Her caregiver smiled and winked at you.

“No, Mrs. Song. I’d love to know about him.” You smiled back at her and listened with your undivided attention. No matter how much times you’ve heard the stories, you would never get tired hearing how romantic her husband was with her. Even while you took care of other customers, she still talked about her life with him and you listened and asked questions so she knew that you were listening.

“So, he wasn’t a millionaire, Mrs. Song?--thank you, have a good day.” You handed a customer his change.

“Not at all, dear. But our time together was priceless.”

The entrance door opened and in came the last person you wanted to see, although it couldn’t be helped. When Taehyung walked in, his cousin and his friends came running in through the doors first and he followed with his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Song greeted him as you tended to the kids with a smile. The last time you spoke to Taehyung was on Monday. He tried to reach out to you, but you didn’t bother to return any of his calls or texts. He only ever contacted you through phone and never at school which gave you the idea that he didn’t tell his friends anything.

You wanted to disappear into the back room, but you were already assisting his cousin and his friends.

“Hi, y/n.” Taehyung greeted quietly.

You gave the last cup of ice cream to one of the kids who then ran over to Mrs. Song.

“Hi.” It was instinct the way you grabbed a fourth cup to fill it up with chestnut praline ice cream. How were you supposed to enjoy this flavour when it now gave you bittersweet memories of summer?

“Y/n, I know you’re mad at me and you don’t have to say anything, but at least just listen to me.” Taehyung followed you from the other side of the counter as you walked from the ice cream casing to the register. “I let my pride get in the way because I didn’t tell my friends about you. It’s always been that way with Seo Joon and it’s so fucking annoying how I can’t put my foot down when it comes to him. Saying that makes me sound like I’m his bitch and I guess I am.”

You plucked the ten dollar bill out of his hand and listened, just as he instructed.

“I haven’t told him...yet…which is stupid, I know. You’re important to me and I haven’t been feeling like myself lately all because we haven’t been talking at all. It’s killing me, y/n.” Taehyung spoke as softly as possible, just enough for only you to hear. “I still really like you and I swear I’ll tell Seo Joon because you’re right, his opinion shouldn’t matter.”

You took the change out of the register and you didn’t even realize it, but you blinked away tears that surfaced at your water line. Words were getting caught up within your throat, threatening to burst out all at once. But now wasn’t the right time.

You laid his change out on the palm of your hand and as Taehyung took his change, his finger lingered to trace the lines that veined throughout your palm. He hung his head and failed to hide the sound of him sniffling.

“I admit my mistake and I’m just so sorry, y/n. I hope for you to forgive me one day.” Taehyung crumpled up his change inside of his receipt and stuffed it into his pocket. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Taehyung.” Your words were barely audible, but he still heard you.

With a blank expression, Taehyung gathered up his pack of children and made sure to give Mrs. Song the most cheerful smile he could muster up.

Not even a couple of feet away from Mrs. Song, Taehyung’s cousin asked Taehyung to retie his shoe laces because they were beginning to become undone. You walked over to Mrs. Song who was gently folding her napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You know, dear,” she began. “How about you try your chances with that young man who came in with his little friends? He seems like a nice boy.”

There was no point in explaining everything to Mrs. Song, so you just hummed and smiled at her. “He is, Mrs. Song.”

Without looking up from the counter, you could see Taehyung stand back up and you could feel his eyes burning towards you.

“How about it then, deary? I’ll introduce you two.” Mrs. Song suggested with confidence.

It difficult to hold back your tears in front of the ever-so-innocent Mrs. Song, but you had to grit your teeth and bear it.

“It’s okay, ma’am. I don’t think he’s interested in me.” You said sadly.

As much as you didn’t want to look at him, you finally lifted your chin to make eye contact with the regretful stare of Taehyung’s eyes. The intense contact was broken by his cousin, shaking Taehyung’s hand and telling him that they wanted to go to the park already.

As he turned his back to you, you physically felt the pain in the atmosphere. Who knows, maybe you were taking it to heart much harder than it needed to be. But if there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you were incredibly hurt about the fact that Taehyung had to hide your existence. He stared into your eyes as if he had no idea who you knew were.

You were furious, betrayed, and, with the lack of a better word, so fucking hurt by what happened. Being who you were, you also knew that there was no way you could stay mad at Taehyung forever. There was a sliver of hope for you to forgive him, but now wasn’t the time.

Taehyung was more than an entire summer of memories. He was an unexpected occurrence, like rain in a drought. He was your first text in the morning and your last text before going to bed. He became the reason for you to be excited to head to work, hoping for him to show up.

But the rain will stop falling, texts don’t get sent, work becomes a chore, and eventually, seasons end.

♡ rae

[subtlerain]

Chrysalis - Part V

→ Vampire!Taehyung x Reader

I ♥ II ♥ III ♥ IV ♥ V ♥ VI ♥

A/N: It’s FINALLY here! Thank you all soooo much for being so lovely and patient with me, and I am so sorry I’ve made you wait this long for an update! I struggled with this part a little bit, as it was one of those more emotional, ‘backstory revealing’ parts that I really wanted to make sure I was happy with! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this update, and (hopefully) I will have the next update posted on my regular posting day!

Also, expect some spam soon as I’m seeing BTS LIVE IN CONCERT ON THURSDAY !!

Warnings: Angst, backstory reveal, lots of feelings & sad themes

Tagged: @fuckingpisces @ophelia-carolina @jeongin-stay @charlesgrey1875 @lilliaflurr @thelonelyshinbu @squadlevi @awkwardaardvarkforever @macfullyloaded17 @chimchimsauce @tateahyung @parkthejimbles @lookatmyuglyface @ravioli-raviolii @aaurelia22 @jjkookie07 @cherryvblossom

♥ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tagged list so you don’t miss the next part! ♥

You couldn’t sleep.

Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, your skin burning and heart pounding like you were back at the library, Taehyung’s blood-red eyes boring into yours with an intensity you had never seen, sharp incisors poking out behind his lips.

However, the thing that kept you from your much needed rest was not the fact that it was obvious his blood-lusting vampire side had come out, it was the conflict in his eyes and in his words.

It was like he was fighting some powerful invisible force, his eyes shiny and wide with a muted confusion. His body had been trembling against yours, his voice, although sharp, sounded desperate, and when he had turned away, he was looking at his shaking hand, his shoulders tensed.

Before he had teleported away, it almost seemed like he wanted to say something, like there was something that was nearly killing him, and he needed to get it out.

You knew Taehyung had demons, but this was something new, and it seemed to be causing him more grief than ever. You knew you had gone too far, after all, if he didn’t want to tell you about his past, he didn’t have to, but whatever he had been holding on to that caused him to hate the the world and himself was obviously causing him more harm than good.

Even though you were terrified out of your mind in that moment, you still remembered everything he had said to you, and everything you had said to him.

You had told the truth, the blatant, honest truth.

You cared about him, hell, you cared about him so much you sometimes forgot what your purpose was coming here to live with him. Taehyung had captured your attention and you had grown to care deeply for him.

Your heart had swelled for the vampire.

But, as it seemed, he had not forgotten that you were here with him because you were desperate for money for your sister. He looked so pained, almost hurt when he iterated that to you. It was if he believed you had been lying to him the whole time, the days you spent with him and the rushed glances you made meant nothing.

But you did, you truly did care about him, you cared about him so much and it killed you to see this wonderful man be torn apart by his own past, for his own reasons that you didn’t know about.

For a moment, you thought back to when you had first arrived, not knowing what to expect for the job you had applied for on a desperate whim. You had never thought this vampire would bring on such emotions to rest in the centre of your chest.

And you doubted he expected it either.

These thoughts had sent your mind spinning for the billionth time, mixed emotions causing a knot to form in your stomach.

You had been returning to your bedroom from your slow, quiet walk through the mansion when you heard it, the time nearly midnight.

It was a small noise, like a whimper, as if from a hurt animal. You paused with your hand on your doorknob and furrowed your brows, confused.

It was usually quiet around the house, and that afternoon it had been particularly quiet, you and Taehyung both hiding out in your rooms from the events that late morning.

The sound happened again, this time louder, accompanied by the shuffling of sheets.

Your head snapped in the direction of Taehyung’s bedroom, and you instinctually crept forwards, your footfalls slow and light.

“N-no, n-no!”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage, the strangled voice of the vampire muffled by his walls.

You pressed your ear to the door, violent shuffling of sheets and whimpers coming from the other side.

“Taehyung?” You called softly, worry crawling up your back.

“N-no! Please…please don’t!”

The most heart shattering cry for help sounded from the other side, and before you knew it, you were bursting through the door, adrenaline pumping through your veins, skin crawling and heart pounding, eyes searching the dim room for the vampire.

And then you saw him.

Taehyung was sitting up in bed, the sheets around him crumpled, his eyes wide and blinking, obviously from waking with a start.

It took you a moment to see the way his cheeks glistened with fresh tears, his bare chest glistening with sweat and hair a mess.

“T-taehyung?” You asked, frozen in your spot in his doorway. Your voice sounded just as scared as he looked.

His eyes snapped to yours, shiny with tears and wide with absolute horror. If it was possible, the vampire looked even paler than usual. Deathly so.

His breathing quickened, and more tears dropped from his eyes, your heart shattering as his body shook violently.

You were by his side in an instant, checking for signs of injury, anything else that could’ve hurt him, but it seemed everything was in his head.

The demons that were haunting him had come out in the form of a nightmare.

You touched his arm, and he flinched, his body shuttering, eyes still unfocused.

“Taehyung, are you okay?” You asked softly, the only light in the room from the full moon outside.

He blinked, fresh tears still falling, and his voice was hoarse, “Y-Y/N?”

He had never called your name before, the syllables of your name desperate, and his voice was breaking. He seemed so horribly venerable that you let yourself crawl onto the bed beside him, your hand running up his back soothingly.

His lips trembled, and it was clear his hard exterior was cracked, his mask was off and his eyes held the darkness that had haunted him for far too long.

You kept your eyes locked on him, “I’m here.” You rubbed his back softly, trying desperately to help him calm down, but he was still shaking, tears in his dark, wide eyes.

He breathed out shakily, his voice distant, “Y-Y/N, I had…I had…the nightmares came back and it was so real—“

“Shhh…” You said softly, bringing your hands to his cheeks to wipe at his tears, the action causing him to look at you finally.

You smiled softly, eyes solely on his, “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” You reassured.

He didn’t respond, but he let you continue to brush the pads of your fingers over his cheekbones, wiping away the last of his tears as he closed his eyes.

It occurred to you that he looked absolutely exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and a noticeable slouch to his shoulders. He swallowed, Addams apple bobbing, his smooth face gripped between your hands.

It was nearly torture to see him like this, crying and shaking, and he looked so small and so weak that it made your heart clench with a sickly sadness, and for a moment, you felt the need to cry just from looking at him like this.

You hated seeing him like this, you hated that he was so tortured, and that he had gone all these years alone.

Taehyung had been so alone.

You didn’t want him to ever feel alone again.

You lightly pressed on his chest, helping him lie back down on his bed, his muscles only just starting to relax.

You fluffed the pillow beneath his head, starting to move to pull the sheet around him when he lightly grabbed your wrist, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please…can you stay with me?”

The request made you pause for a moment, your heart thumping, before you simply nodded and brought yourself down on the bed beside him, pulling the blankets around the two of you in protection.  

You faced him, his skin illuminated in the moonlight, eyes still glassy, but he seemed calmer, his eyes trained on your face as if he was trying to memorize all of your features in the upmost detail.

You reached up one hand to push his fringe off his forehead, the very ends wet with sweat, and he relaxed into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut again.

You lowered your voice, “Everything is okay, Taehyung. No one will hurt you.”

At those words, the vampire snaked his arms around you, arms circling your waist and hips as he pulled himself to your chest, as if he was afraid you could slip away from him any moment.

Although you weren’t expecting it, you allowed him to relax into you, his breathing steadying and fingers twisting into the fabric of the back of your shirt.

You combed your fingers through his soft hair, your eyes still open as you waited for him to fall asleep, his arms relaxing around you and chest falling into a slow rhythm against yours.

However, Taehyung was still awake when you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and uttered soft words that his ears picked up on easily.

The words that made his dark heart surge.

“You’re safe with me, Taehyung.”

***

He dreamt of you that night.

Maybe it was because of the fact that he slept so soundly with you in his arms, inhaling your scent and feeling your heart beat against his, but his dreams were full of pictures of you in his head that he had wanted to remember forever.

Taehyung recalled the first time he had met you, his brain filled with hate for the desperate girl that came strolling into his house. He hated his father for doing this to him, for ruining his years of solidarity with a single human girl.

He thought after your first encounter that he could break you, he could scare you off and you would just leave him alone like he is supposed to be, like he had been all these years.

But he was wrong.

He saw himself in you often, your stubbornness was nearly frustrating. The fact that you never forgot to smile at him or ask him your silly little questions at mealtimes and step closer to his walls with each conversation was confusing, but then had bloomed into something endearing.

In his dream, he saw your beautiful smile and wide, curious eyes, and he could inhale your scent and hear your heart almost perfectly.

He saw you when you had first been in the grocery store with him, your lips twisted into a pout and hand in his as you searched the shelves. He saw you in the kitchen with your cheeks rosy from the oven, he saw you sitting with him at his dining room table, beaming, even though you sometimes looked so tired.

It was the simple things that would always make this light feeling coarse through his middle.

You made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time, perhaps ever, a pure feeling that he didn’t know he was capable of anymore, not since he closed off his world.

He saw your eyes wide with fear when he had snapped at you, nearly losing control from the fact that you were breaking him down, that you had gotten to his cold heart, that his walls were crumbling at the will of your pretty eyes and genuine words and warm heart.

He believed he was full of darkness, but somehow, some of your light had gotten inside, and blossomed.

***

You awoke with the sun streaming behind your eyelids, and you turned your head away from the light, stuffing your nose into silky sheets below you.

That was when you realized something was different, that this was not the bed you had spent every evening in.

Your eyes snapped open, beams of sun burning your irises as your body awoke. Before you could cry out in confusion however, the events from the night previous came back to you in a storm of recollection, and you relaxed a touch.

Holding your breath, you rolled over to your other side, your lips closing into a line as your eyes landed on the back of the vampire, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, seeming lost in thought.

But you figured you would be too after a night like that.

You wondered if he knew you were awake, and as if sensing your pending question, he raised his head a centimetre.

“You’re awake.”

His voice had its usual edge to it, but was quieter, and you could tell his eyes were open even though his head was bowed.

You peeled your lips apart, “Are…are you feeling better?”

He turned his head a little to the side, fringe covering part of his face, “Yes.”

Taehyung didn’t say another word, and you paused, wondering what to do next. You propped yourself up on your elbow, gazing outside the window in front of him.

Taehyung was so still that you wondered if he had stopped breathing.

You pondered what to say next. It was obvious that there was tension, his breakdown last night had shocked you—and you assumed Taehyung hadn’t meant to drag you into it either—but you held your tongue.

You remembered how he had practically molded his body into yours, his fingers gripping you so tightly, as if he was worried you would slip through his arms like water.

Taehyung came to a conclusion then, his own mind turning rapidly, his heart pounding relentlessly in his chest.

He had been up for a while, even since he stirred awake before the sun had come up, your warm body pressed against his.

He had stayed curled beside you for a moment, his nose pressed into your hair and arms curled around your stomach, listening to the soft rise and fall of your breath, and the slow, steady beating of your heart.

He listened to you sleep every night, in fact. It had become nearly an obsession, his ears focused on your breathing and heart beat as it slowed you into your sleep cycle, and he would sometimes even wake up if he heard you stir loudly in the middle of the night from a dream.

But it was different, being beside you.

The overwhelming sense of comfort you had given him, the fact that you were with him in his darkest times when his mind was dizzy and his heart was pounding and he couldn’t tell what was real or not.

It reminded him that maybe, possibly, he was not alone.

The vampire had just enough courage to utter his next words to you, just enough hope and feeling in his body that he could try to be strong again, and face the thing that haunted him most.

Because maybe, just maybe, if you were by his side, it would be okay.

“Get dressed. I would like you to accompany me somewhere.”

***

It was a cool morning, dew was still on the tips of the grass, and the early birds were out, singing lonely melodies.

Taehyung walked slightly in front of you, his eyes trained ahead as he lead you down one of the numerous paths that existed in the forest behind his mansion.

Your boots crunched over fallen leaves and branches, and you offered small smiles every time he would glance over his shoulder at you.

You weren’t sure why he was doing that, it was obvious that you were following him, but his expression was unreadable, and the dark of his eyes almost seemed unsure.

You were surprised that he hadn’t just run away like he always had, that he didn’t slink off in the dark of the night after his nightmare, embarrassed, ashamed when you awoke.

But no, Taehyung had stayed, and for the first time, it seemed he wasn’t hiding.

Taehyung hesitated for a moment, in your travels and you settled beside him, noticing you were approaching a small clearing.

You glanced up at him, feeling your own unease settle in your stomach, “Is everything alright?”

He swallowed, his eyes looking straight forwards.

Almost naturally, you reached your hand out to touch his, your fingers sliding in between his easily. He wrapped his large hand around yours almost instantly, and began to walk forwards, your warmth giving him the confidence he needed to continue.

Something as simple as a touch of your hand against his, Taehyung realized, could give him strength he didn’t realize he had. So once again, instead of turning away, he pressed on, with you beside him.

It was indeed a clearing, and although the trees were overgrown, it was clear as day what he wanted to show you.

It was a tomb.

Old, grey stone made up the almost shed-like structure, emerald vines weaving its way around the rock. It was very old, and you noticed some of the edges of the stone were chipped, the smaller details made so many years ago softened by weather.

However, the name etched into the front was clear as day, and you squeezed Taehyung’s hand.

His mother.

The two of you stayed facing it, and Taehyung was unmoving, his eyes gliding over the structure rapidly, as if he was trying searching for an answer within the stone.

He must’ve found it, because he finally spoke, “I haven’t been here in decades.”

You breathed out, “Your mother.”

The buzz of morning surrounded the two of you, and you waited for him to continue.

You could almost feel him forming thoughts, his hand now slightly limp against yours, as if he had traveled somewhere distant in his mind. You recalled the funeral of your own mother; a solemn event where you had felt nearly numb inside, the weak smiles of pity and tight hugs of reassurance did nothing to change the coldness you had felt inside.

You had been numb inside for a long time, but somehow it had fuelled you, and your years consisted of work because your little sister was now the top priority.

You let your eyes drift to your intertwined hands, bringing yourself from your own thoughts to focus on Taehyung.

What could’ve happened that caused him to block out everything for all those years?

His fingers suddenly twitched against yours, and your question was answered, “She was murdered.”

Your insides instantly crumbled as the words slipped past his lips, your mouth falling open in pure shock at the three words that made your stomach twist into knots. You turned your head to face him, his eyes unmoving from the tomb of his mother, “Taehyung…”

His eyes closed, and he took in a breath, “I think,” He started, and he gripped your hand a little tighter, “I think I’d like to tell you what happened.”

His voice was softer that usual, and he was talking slowly, the usual fast-paced venom laced in his tone absolutely gone.

Taehyung’s mask was crumbling, and your heart pounded as you watched his expressions carefully, taking in his words with utmost attention.

He took his time, his own heart pounding in his chest, “My nightmare last night, I was remembering when she died.” You let him pause, his mouth still open as he pieced together piecing his next words, “I saw it happen.”

Your stomach dropped, pang of sadness, worry, absolute despair filling your insides, “I’m so sorry…” You said quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

His eyes moved down to meet yours, and instead of the darkness they usually held, they were glassy, his chocolate eyes merely dark puddles, defeat laced in his irises.

You wondered if this was the first time he had said those words aloud, or let anyone see how he had truly thought.

He shook his head, “I was a child, way too young to have to see that.”

You nodded wordlessly, and it seemed as if everything around the two of you had gone silent, the whole world pausing as the vampire spoke.

Taehyung tried desperately to focus on you as he talked, afraid that he might faint or cry or tear himself apart in anger. His head starting to spin from just remembering the day where his entire world changed forever. He let himself feel the warmth of your hand in his, let himself feel that you were there, beside him.

That he was not alone.

He didn’t have to tell you, he didn’t have to take you here to see his mother. But he felt something lift of of his shoulders as he spoke slowly, weight of this event he had carried with him for so long letting go.

He looked into your eyes—they had become full of tears—and the expression you wore was soft, not full of pity or shock anymore.

It was open, it was kind, and he let your expression fuel him once again.

Maybe he wasn’t alone.

He blinked at his mother’s tomb, “It was back when there were conflicts between humans and vampires. My family was safe, we were in an area of the country where we were welcomed, where we could walk down the street freely and not have to worry about getting harassed.” He smiled weakly, but it came out like more of a grimace, “I even went to school with human children. They didn’t even bat an eye at me.”

You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb, tender swipe of your digit causing a warm comfort to wash over the vampire.  

He took in a breath, “It was late, that night, and a terrible storm had come through when my mother and I were walking. I remember that the rain was so loud, I couldn’t even hear when they came into our town.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, the word murder circulating around again and again in your brain like a horrible, horrible broken record.

Taehyung closed his eyes, and you watched his jaw tighten, “It was a group of men—protestors—from the city. ‘Vampire hunts’ they called them.” His voice was soft, broken, but the words kept rushing out, even though his mouth had gone as dry as a bone, “They searched for female vampires, killing them in hopes to stop our kind from repopulating.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, and Taehyung’s hand started to shake from the memory, his words filled with nothing but sadness, horror, and most of all, hatred.

He shook his head, “They stabbed her right through the heart, right in front of me.” His voice was weak, almost a whisper, and he could feel his head spinning again, a whirlwind of memories that haunted him nearly every day of his life, “And I just ran, I didn’t even do anything—“

His voice cracked on his last word, and he slumped to the ground almost instantly, his knees hitting the grass, head bowed.

You watched him from below you, his hands tightened into fists, his position showing nothing but defeat, guilt, utter despair.

“The humans took her from me. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

He lifted his head up a millimetre, “I hate them. I hate them all.”

His voice was rough, full of bottled up emotions and confused thoughts that had you frozen in place. It was resentment for your kind, for humans all those years ago when they’d do unspeakable things to vampires. You had heard of mass shootings and public killings of vampires, but they had always seemed so savage and barbaric, so different from the world you lived in.

But here he was, a grown vampire who witnessed his own mother being murdered, the actions of humans full of hate and ignorance causing him to shut himself away, to live his immortal life seeing the image of his mother’s murder forever burned in his mind.

“The pages of a book cannot hurt me. Your world can.”

The words he had spoken in the library resonated in your skull, the honesty and fear in them now ever so apparent as you watched the vampire whose very life was changed forever stare at the ground, head in his hands.

And it hurt, it hurt so much to see him so broken, to see that the walls he had built up around him crumbling and revealing a broken little boy who saw what true evil humans can possess.

It hurt to see how much it had numbed him, how much it had turned his fragile insides dark, how much he hated the world, hated your kind.

And how much he hated himself.

Something snapped inside of you, and you tumbled down to the ground, your body latching onto his desperately, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled yourself to him.

Your voice was nearly a whisper as you gazed out at the circle of trees around you through glassy eyes, “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

Taehyung’s body was frozen for a moment, your sudden movements having caught him off guard.

You mumbled into his chest, your emotions spilling over, “Please don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

He tensed, “I couldn’t save her.”

You pulled back suddenly, your face only inches from his, his cheeks cupped in your hands.

You shook your head, “She wouldn’t want you to hate yourself. She wouldn’t want you to live this way, all alone.” He was looking at you intensely, his eyes locked on yours as you spoke, “You can’t keep resenting your father from moving on, you can’t keep hating humans for what they did a hundred years ago.”

He swallowed, his eyes closing, your words hitting him in the centre of your chest, the truths he didn’t want to accept slipping past your lips, “I’m nothing. I’m lazy and selfish and full of darkness and hate.”

You brushed your thumb across his cheekbone, his eyes automatically opening at your gesture.

A smile slipped onto your lips, and you spoke from the every centre of your heart, your racing organ nearly in time with his.

“You’re beautiful, Taehyung. You’re a beautiful disaster who thinks he’s all of those things.” His eyes flicked over yours, searching. You continued, “You’re not broken Taehyung. You’ve perfected your mask and wrapped this chrysalis around yourself so tightly that you’re suffocating.”

You could tell, you could tell he was breaking, that he was trying, he was trying to reach out and grasp your words, “I can’t…”

You breathed out, “Just let me in. Please.”

And then he was looking into your eyes again, his pupils flicking around your irises as if to search for something, as if to search for a lie in your plea, for a cracked truth or corrupted word.

But when you had spoken from your very middle, the pounding organ in you chest that screamed to be with him, your mind was only set on only one thing.

Him.

And so he smiled, his arms tightening around you in an embrace, his face buried in your hair, his shoulders relaxing into your touch like he had done it a thousand times.

Like he had wanted to do it a thousand times.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

[cygnetofthesea]

Absolution in You: Part IV

When Barry meets Iris under unusual circumstances, he never would have imagined just how tangled in her he would become. 

He wasn't supposed to fall for her.  It wasn't supposed to be like this.   But the fates had a twisted sense of humor, it seemed and here he was...

On AO3

Four days later he walks into Zoom's flower shop and tells him he's in.  He threatens to kill him and Darhk right where they stood if anything ever happened to Iris, but he was in.  They had succeeded in manipulating him when they left a funeral flower arrangement with Iris's name on his doorstep.  He had tore up the arrangement in a rage, watching the petals float to the ground in the mid-afternoon breeze. His blood on fire, he marches over to let them know before seeking out Iris.  

It was a Thursday afternoon, three weeks later, and he knew she would be leaving the orphanage around that time and making her way over to the park afterward.  Ever since she quit her job at the bank, Iris had taken to volunteering more full time at the orphanage while she did some freelance writing on the side. And apparently other activities that he had been unaware of.

He watches from afar as she steps out the building and walks over to the nearby park, sitting on a bench in front of the pond.  He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat before crossing the street. His gaze is so focused on her that he nearly gets hit by a passing car.  He worries for a moment he’ll draw her attention and she’ll leave before he has a chance to speak with her, but mercifully she seems too deep in thought to look back.  

Ignoring the irked driver, he marches forward, his hands stuffed nervously in the pocket of his coat until he was standingbehind her.  His heart hammers in his chest and he feels as though he can barely breath.

He had been involved in numerous robberies in his life and maintained a calm in the midst of pandemonium and yet he felt as though he was gearing up to freefall from an airplane.  

"Iris."

He knows the moment she registers his voice, her body stiffening.  He walks around the bench, needing her to see his face, needing to see hers..  "Iris, please I just need to talk to you."

She stands abruptly as though preparing to leave and he reaches for her arm without thinking.  She jerks away, finally meeting his eyes.

"Don’t touch me."

He looks at her for a long moment and could see the exhaustion in her eyes.  It had been days since he last spoke to her and she had plenty of time to turn them in but she didn't.  Something in her kept her from doing so and while he wondered what it was, he was more concerned with her knowing the truth.  He needed her to know everything. And whether it meant he was giving her more ammo against him, he didn’t care. As long as she knew.  

"I'm sorry, Iris.  I'm so sorry for everything that I put you through, but I just-I just need you to know the truth.  I will never lie to you again.  Ever. "

"Yeah?  And how exactly do you expect me to believe that?"

"Because you'll hate the answers."  His eyes never waver from her face. “Anything,” he whispers.

She looks at him silently before letting out a slow breath.  "How long were you following me before you approached me?"

"A couple of days."

"How many robberies have you been involved in?"

"Six trucks, two banks."

She pauses, holding her breath.  "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No," he says without hesitating, looking her straight in the eyes.  "We have a code."

"But you do take hostages."

He shakes his head.  "No. That wasn't supposed to happen.  It was an impulsive decision on Rory's part."

"Who's idea was it to follow me?"

"Rory."

Iris let out a mirthless chuckle.  "Of course it was. The fucking psycho."

"We don’t take hostages because it creates too many ties and makes the job bigger than it needs to be.  He saw you lived in the area and was worried somehow you'd ID us after he saw you talking to the Feds."

She nods, looking away toward the pond.  He watches her profile carefully, trying to gaugue what she was thinking.  Needing to know that she believed him.

"Iris.  I will never lie to you, I will never hurt you and if I lose you…I will regret that for the rest of my life."

Her breath hitches at his admission.  She turns back to him and the look in her eyes makes something flutter in his stomach.  There was confliction and hesitation, but the anger had abated.

"I need to know..."  Her voice was so quiet and soft that he almost misses it in the wind.

"Anything."

"Are you in love with me?"

He cautiously walks toward her.  “Yes.”

Something flickers her eyes and Barry watches her throat bob as she swallows hard.  

“Barry,” she croaks.  “What do you expect from us?  What do you think can happen?”

His heart stutters in his chest and he tries to be subtle as he takes in a deep breath, trying to ease the ache.  

“We-we can come back from this, Iris.  We can start fresh like we’ve been talking about.”

“It’s all been a lie,” she says softly, her eyes unwavering.  Searching.

He shakes his head.  “But, it hasn’t,” he says just as softly.  He looks down at the mere two feet between them and slowly inches closer.  His fingers twitch, resisting the urge to touch her. She looks down away and doesn't appear to want to close the distance between them.

“Iris,” he whispers. “Please, look at me.”

She hesistates before meeting his gaze.

“You see me, don’t you?  You must know it wasn’t a lie.  The only lie in our relationship was how we met.  That’s it. Everything else after that was all real.”

Her eyes glimmer with unshed tears.  “What about that story about your mother?  Was that even real?”

“Every word.”  

He looks at her beautiful brown eyes, wondering if there was any hope, but knowing his time was limited now  He wants nothing more than for her to trust him again, to be able to put her faith in him, but it wouldn't be a feart he could accomplish right then.  

"There's something I need to do, but I'm asking you, Iris, wait for me."

She doesn’t say anything, but he hadn't expected her to.  He nods once and takes a step back beore turning away. He gets a few feets when he hears her call out to him.

"Barry?"

He looks back at her.  She was biting her lips, clutching her coat close to her.  She scrutinizes him and there’s something akin to confusion in her eyes.  "Why do you do it?"

He shrugs.  "I owe a debt."

She looks taken aback by that and as much as he wants to remain in her company, time was running out.  

The sooner he got to work, the sooner he could come back to her.

He was strapping on his ballistic vest with Len and Rory when Zoom walks into the warehouse with Darkh.  Barry clips a couple of explosives on his belt, avoiding Zoom’s gaze as he and Darkh stops in front of them, hands on their hips.

"I can't say how proud I am of you boys. You remind me of your fathers, but wiser. Kids these days grow fast and it breaks my heart, but looking at you boys and all that you've accomplished…well, it makes this old man feel relevant."

Barry sours at the mention of his father.  Coming from the lips of the scum that destroyed his family, the words mean nothing.  He bows his head, biting back what he really wanted to say, what he really wanted to do.  

"I know there are some concerns about this job, but I'm telling you we got this in the bag.  You boys reviewed the schematics?"

They all nod.  "Good, so we have everyone in place, alibis been bought off, and we have men working on the cameras as we speak."

"Where's our backup?" Len asks.

Zoom looks at Len and gives him a reassuring smile.  "Got 'em briefed and patrolling the area."

Barry narrows his eyes, watching Zoom lay out a blueprint across the tabletop.  Even though he had spent years working for the guy, he never did quite trust him and now more than ever something feels off.

Everyone gathers around the blueprint as Zoom gives them the play-by-play when Barry feels the burner phone in his pocket buzz.  His hand moves toward his pocket in confusion, not realizing he had brought it with him.

His pulse jumps against his skin and he grabs it, discreetly checking the screen while the others pour over the schematics.

Look up, the text reads.

His eyes flash to the level above, searching, and from the shadows, Iris creeps out.  His heart jumps in his throat as Iris places an index finger on her lips.

She was hidden between boxes and he could only spot her because he knew where to look, but still, his heart bangs thunderously in his chest.  What was she doing there?

He calms his breath.  "I left some of my gear upstairs, be back."

Zoom looks at him for what felt like a long moment before nodding and turning back to the blueprint.

Barry tries to keep his gait calm and steady, making his way to the second level.  He didn’t have to walk far when Iris intercepted. He swiftly wraps an arm around her waist and lifts her against him, taking her to the far end of the level where they would be hidden behind lockers.

"What the hell are you doing here, Iris," he hisses.  He set her down in front of one of the lockers and grabs her arms gently.  "Are you out of your mind?"

She looks at him intensely. "Look, I don’t know what you have planned but I couldn't shake what you told me.  Against my better judgment, I don’t want you to go down with them, but Rory cannot get away with it.  He has to pay for what he did to Martin."

He looks at her stunned even as his heart skips a beat at her concern for him.  But he couldn't focus on that because here she was, standing in front of him while two sociopaths and their trigger-happy lackeys were downstairs.

"You need to get out of here, Iris."

"Just listen to me," she hisses.

"What exactly were you planning on doing? Come in guns blazing and take him out?  And how did you even find me?"

"I tailed you and no I don't plan on killing anyone."  She took out a recorder from her pocket and showed it to him.  "I recorded the conversation between Zoloman and Darhk while the rest of you were getting ready.  Barry, there isn't a backup team in place, they couldn’t secure one. They were fully prepared to let you guys fend for yourself even if it meant taking hits."

"That fucker."  Barry clenched his fists, stepping away from Iris.

"From what I heard, Zoloman’s not happy with you.  Barry, we need to get out of here."

"Why, what's happening?"

"I'm going to tip off Eddie and anonymously send him the recording.  They're going to find Snart and Rory too."

Barry looks at her gently before taking her face in his hands.  He stares into her soft brown eyes and if he looked hard, he could see that flicker of warmth she had held for him in the last few months.  Before everything went to hell.

"Do you hate me, Iris?"  He doesn't know why he asks the question and realizes it wasn’t the most appropriate time to be having that conversation, but he can’t help the words blurting past his lips.

Her eyes well up with tears as her jaws tighten under his hands.  "Just-fucking hell, Barry. I am so pissed at you and I don't know what the hell is going to happen after tonight, but all I know is that I can't let something happen to you.  And now is  not the time to talk about this."

He nods, he'd take what he could get.  "Ok," he whispers. "But, Iris. If I leave with you now and the Feds come for them, it's only a matter of time before they come for me.  They'll know I was connected."

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes, but right now we need to leave before they come looking for you."

Barry looks down at her, battling his loyalty to her and his loyalty to Snart.  He couldn't give less of shit what happened to the others, he hoped they'd rot in prison, but Snart was his brother.  Snart was the only family he really had in this hell-ish life. Snart was the one who had taken the fall for him that sent him to prison for five years.  He wants nothing more than to leave with her, but he needed to tie up loose ends before they could.

'Iris," he whispers.  “You need to get out of here.”

The sound of a gun cocking back jolts them and Iris lets out a gasp as she looks over Barry's shoulder.  Barry's eyes slid to the side as he carefully turns, keeping his body in front of Iris.

"So this is your sweet, new girlfriend, huh?"

Barry turns fully only to be faced with the barrel of Zoom's gun.  Zoom's grim expression showed a mix of irritation and disappointment as he looks to address Iris.  

"Here to join the fun, darling?"

Iris steps forward and Barry has to hold out a restraining arm across her torso.  "Don't," he grits out. He looks at Zoom, praying to whatever entity was out there that could make a difference.  "Don’t do this, Hunter." He knew his uncle hated being referred to his name, but he would never call him by his moniker or uncle.

Zoom exhales exasperatedly.  "Where the fuck is the respect, Barry?"

Iris levels a hard stare at Zoom.  "The likes of you don’t deserve respect."

Zoom stared at her in shock for a moment before a slow grin spreads across his face.  "Holy shit,” he says slowly. “The balls on this gal. Do you know who I am?"

"I know all about you, Hunter Zoloman.  You like to go by Zoom to cover up your criminal acts so that you can hide behind a new name and reputation as a flower shop owner.  But anyone in Central City and as far as Keystone knows who you really are. They're just too afraid to speak because you've bought their silence.  You destroyed families to keep up the façade."

Zoom narrows his eyes at her curiously and even Barry has to wonder how she knew all of this. And then he thought about the days leading up to quitting her job at the bank. Iris had told him how she had wanted to be an investigative journalist once upon a time but had dropped out to work so that she could take care of her dad after he had fallen ill.  It looked like she had returned to her roots and made good use of her newly acquired spare time.

"Who the fuck are  you ?"  He turns to Barry.  "I thought your girlfriend was a bank manager.  She definitely ain't with the Feds, I would've known."

"Don't underestimate a scorned woman, you bastard," Iris spat.  Barry had so many questions and wanted to know what else she knew, how much was she hiding from him—not that it made a difference to him—but there would be time for questions later…or so he hoped.

He never once turns away from Zoom who was still staring at Iris with a hard, questioning gaze, but he allows his eyes to scan the area, searching for a way out.

"Well, as fascinating as this turn of events has been, you darling need to go," he says pointing his gun at her.  Barry's heart leaps in his throat, hammering hard as his body jerks closer to her.

"Hunter, this doesn't have to go down like this."

"I'm afraid it does, Barry."  He looks at Iris again and gestures with his gun.  "Why don't you come out from behind your boyfriend, there?  You sure like to talk and yet you still hide behind a man."

"Fuck you," she hisses venomously.  She makes to step around Barry, who again halts her movements.

"Iris, don't."

Zoom turns the gun back on Barry.  "Iris, do," he says before addressing Barry.  "Do you really want to risk hurting her? After all your efforts in trying to keep her safe, you want to sacrifice all of that now?  Oh and sweetheart, while you're at it, I'll take that recorder too."

Barry clenches his jaws as Iris moves from behind him.  His fingers dig into her side in his continued effort to keep her still.  

“Over my dead body,” he says lowly.  

Zoom looks thoughtful, his face grim.  He lets out a sigh. “Fine.” He raises his gun higher and steadies it on Barry.

Suddenly there’s a deafening bang.  The sound reverberates within the metal lockers, echoing throughout the warehouse.

The sound pops in Barry's ears and instinctively he ducks, throwing himself over Iris and pulling her to the side.  His hands shake as he looks over her only to find her trembling slightly but without a wound in sight.

"Iris?"

She shifts and it was only then that Barry notices the handgun that she was clutching.  He whips around the set of lockers he had taken them behind and there was Hunter's body on the ground, a bright red splotch on his side.

Barry watches as Hunter groans and sits up, clutching his side.  "I'm going to fucking kill you, bitch," he seethes.

Barry leaps up, gripping Iris by the arm as he drags her to the other side of the level.  Gunshots follow in their wake, Zoom screaming in blind rage. It was only a matter of time before the others made their way up there.  As though he had summoned them with his thoughts, he hears the thundering sounds of feet racing up the steps.

He pulls Iris into a dark, secluded corner.  He quickly takes off his armored vest and straps it onto Iris, who fights off his attempts.

"Don't.  You need it."

"Iris," he says in the most stern tone he had ever used with her.  "Please, don't fucking fight me on this." And without another word, he tightens it over her.  He knows the kevlar is heavy on her small frame, but it was the best way to protect her.

He hears the shouts of Rory and Snart and his heart plummets in his chest.  Snart. He was a sinner like himself but not malicious like the others. All he wanted was a way to support himself and his mother, he never set out to hurt people the way Rory did.

"Barry?" he hears him call out.

"The bitch.  She's with him.  Got a gun." Zoom's strangled voice was barely audible as he huffs in pain.  But, if the rumors were true, Hunter Zolomon was a fucking cockroach and wouldn't be brought down with a single hit.

"The fuck?"

There’s an unease in his stomach, his mind shuttling with memories and possible outcomes in which none of them ended well.  Would he be able to save them both? There was no time to wonder because Iris was in his arms, putting her faith in him whether she wanted to admit it or not.  

"Barry!  Where the fuck are you?"

He hears movements coming in closer, he eyes taking in his surroundings. They had a different prep location before each job, not wanting to stay in the same place for too long.  It makes it easier for the Feds to find them if they have a designated basecamp. Barry searches around for anything.  

"Barry!"

"Bastards gone fucking rogue.”  Barry recognizes the graveling voice of Rory.  "I knew this shit was coming."

"Fuck up and let's find him," Snart says, his voice sounding closer than before.

Barry grabs Iris's hand and quietly weaves in between boxes and discarded lockers.  Suddenly a barrage of gunfire goes off, lighting up the darkened corners of the warehouse.

Barry throws himself over Iris before pulling her down as they reached a door at the end of the level.  Barry wrenches it open while bringing Iris’s body closer to his. The screeching metal is drowned out by the gunfire as he pushes Iris through the doorway before following behind and bolting the door.  

"Iris, look at me," he says, the sounds of gunshots echoing in the warehouse muting as he narrows his focus on her.  If only for a moment. He needs her to know because this just may the only chance he gets.

He holds her face in his hands, his long and pale fingers brushing against her beautiful deep bronze skin.  How many times had he stroked her skin, watching in wonder as his fingers drifted along her cheeks, her neck, her body?  It was always in wonder because he could never fathom just how privileged he was to be in her presence, to be given the gift of touching her in such an intimate way.  

Even as he holds her now, he misses those moments, already missing the sensation of her.  She looks at him with frightened eyes, her chest heaving with the adrenaline. But if he looked hard enough, somewhere, somehow, there was trust in her dark eyes that looked back into his.  He held onto it.

"I love you so much."

"Barry, what are—"

"I'm saying it’s not your job to save me.  I can't put that responsibility on you, it's not fair.  Only I can save myself."

"Why won’t you let me help you?"

"Because this is not your fight.  It's mine and it's all my fault that you got caught in the crossfires.”  He looks into her eyes trying to convey how sorry he was. “Run, Iris, run.  Get out of here."

She stares at him, eyes wide and filling with tears.  “I-I can’t,” her voice cracks. “I can’t just leave you behind.”

Panic spreads through his chest, creeping and crawling painfully, it’s sharp claws digging into his caverns, threatening to encompass him.  Had it been any other circumstance or setting, he would have steeled himself and thrown himself into the fray, guns blazing with an unnatural calm in his gait.  Had it been any other circumstances, he would have shoved the innocent bystander into a safe hiding spot before expertly picking off the adversary.

But it wasn’t any other circumstances and the love of his life was standing there while his family was trying to kill them.  He needed her to know that he did love her. Just once before it all went to hell and life as he knew it burned to the ground.  

“Fucking hell, Iris, please.”  He feels the burn in his nose, the thought of her getting hurt choking him.  There was a hysteria deep inside him that he fought to temper, keeping his stance rigid, his voice stoic. “If something happens to you…”

Her shaky hands come up to clutch his wrists.  “How will I know you’re ok?”

“I’ll find you,” he promises.  He doesn’t know if it’s a promise he can keep—he sure as hell would try—but he tells her so anyway.  Her eyes glitter in response with a look of uncertainty and he wonders that after everything that had been revealed, she had decided not to trust his words.  “I will always find you.”

He inhales sharply and surges forward, capturing her lips in a hard kiss.  If this was the last moment he ever felt her lips, he would take it. He swallows her gasp and pulls on her lips desperately, his brows furrowing as he tries to hold onto this moment, but knowing it can’t last any longer.  He’s surprised and relieved when she responds with fervor, her hands coming up to clutch his collar.

He pulls back with a muffled grunt, fighting to keep her with him while trying to get her to safety.  “Go,  Iris.  Please. ”  

The sound of stomping footsteps come closer and they can almost feel the ground tremor beneath them.  They look over at the door, the bolt appearing strong. But Barry knows that it’s only a matter of time before they made their way past it.  

He looks back at Iris.  “Head downstairs, once you get to the second level, get on that floor and—”

“I know how to get out of here.”  He looks at her in confusion for a moment and somehow she manages a small smile.  “I snuck in, didn’t I?”

“Right.” Even in the midst of chaos, he can’t help the pride that swells up inside him.  

Her eyes flit across his and her hands drag across his wrist as though savoring a last touch.  Then, with one last fiery look, she pulls away and heads down the stairs. “Iris,” he calls before she can get far.  She turns back. “Call the cops.” Barry doesn’t wait to watch her disappear down the stairs before he makes his way up the next flight of stairs.  

Armed with nothing more than the explosives and a switchblade, Barry has to find a way to draw them out to him and away from Iris.  He runs up to the next level and shoulders his way through the door. The layout is similar to the floor below and he scouts out the area, looking for anything that he could use.  The rest of his weapons were a floor below and with Zoom, Darhk, Rory, and Snart scouring for him, there was no point in wasting time retrieving them. He’d have to work with whatever is at his disposal.  

He spots a gas tank connected to a pipe that travels along the perimeter of the room when he hears Zoom bark orders at the others.  “You two search the lower levels, we’re going up.”

  Iris

He presses his back against the wall, his ear listening close to gauge where they were before he bangs on the metal door beside him.  The movements stop abruptly just outside the door and Barry takes a deep breath, waiting with his hand hovering over his switchblade.

The door bursts open and Barry barely flinches as it swings over him.  The barrel of a gun pokes out and through the crack in the door, he can see Zoom slide out from behind who he imagines to be Darhk, holding onto the gun.  

With the agility of a feline, Barry grabs Darhk’s arm from behind the door, swinging him around until his gun pointed toward Zoom.  Barry releases the trigger once just as he throws an elbow back into Darhk’s throat, choking him. Zoom falls to the ground and ducks behind a metal shelf, letting out a scream of rage.  

Barry pays no mind to him as he throws Darhk against the wall.  He had bought himself time to deal with Zoom with the wound.

He swiftly pulls out his switchblade and drives it into Darhk’s throat in one fluid motion.  Dark, warm blood spurts out of the wound and lands on Barry, but he doesn’t waste another moment before he lets Darhk’s body drop to the ground.  

Barry lets out a slow breath before bending to pick up Darhk’s fallen gun.  Without looking down at it, he cocks it back and walks toward the trail of blood that leads to his target.  He marches over until he’s hovering over Zoom’s slumped body.

Zoom turns to look up at him with a baleful smirk.  He weakly lifts up his hand that’s holding a gun. “You—”

Barry kicks his gun away before crouching over him and hissing,  “Who’s clipping your nuts now?” He points his gun to Zoom’s crotch and releases the trigger.    

He doesn’t spare another moment before bolting out the door and trampling down the stairs.  Just as he reaches the second floor, piercing shot fires through the air. Barry stumbles back against the stairwell, his ear ringing.  There’s a long moment where the world becomes hazy and his vision blurs as the ringing continues. He lifts his hand in a daze to his head and feels something warm and sticky.  

He barely has a moment to register the blood on his fingers before a large body barrels into him, slamming him against the wall.

Barry wheezes as the wind gets knocked out of him. Disorientated from the gunshot, his limbs flail, sliding down the wall even as the adrenaline courses through him.  His head pounds and feels heavy as he weakly lifts it to look up at his assailant, already knowing who it was.

Rory stands before him, his gun seemingly clattering to the ground when he rushed Barry.  He looks down at him with such disdain, his lips curling into a sneer.

“I knew you were up to no good,” he growls.  “I told Snart you couldn’t be trusted. But did he believe me?  No, not his saint brother. The prince of thieves couldn't possibly betray his family.”

“You’re not my family,” Barry grits while struggling to stand as Rory watches.  The ringing dissipates but only a little and Barry has to squeeze his eyes shut to press against the thrumming pain that bloomed.      

Rory scoffs.  “You got that right.”

Barry opens his eyes again and takes in Rory’s stance.  It was relaxed, but Barry knew his cues and his body language.  He was gearing for a fight and Barry would have to as well.

"Rory, look," he struggles to speak, still trying to catch his breath and calm his rapid pulse.   “It doesn’t have to end this way. We can all leave. Zoom and Darhk are gone, I took them out—”

“Oh you think it’s going to be that easy? That we’re all going to skip merrily out of here like some big happy family?”  He leans in closer and drops his voice. “You betrayed us, Allen. I’m not letting that slide.”

Hot spikes of rage bubbles in his blood.  “I didn’t do shit.  I took out the real enemies, I fell in love, but I did not betray you guys.”

“The hell you didn’t.  You chose that bitch over us and you took out our stability, our source of income.  And I don’t take that lightly.”

“He was going to kill her!”

“So you fucking let him!”  Rory steps closer and grips Barry by his arms. Barry was always on the thinner side and despite the chords of hard muscle that lined his arms, underneath Rory’s meaty and hard grip, he felt small.  He remembers the feeling all too well as a child, but that never stopped him."

He could feel Rory’s grip tightening, he felt the move coming and before he could think, Barry bashed his head against Rory, aiming right for his nose.  Within moments, Rory’s grip falls as he stumbles back with a loud cry.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Barry lands a right hook into Rory’s jaws before quickly jabbing him in the face.  In the throes of adrenaline, he barely feels the impact on his knuckles and gears up to throw another punch when Rory tugs on his shirt out of nowhere and swings him toward the stairs.  

Momentarily thrown off his feet, Barry scrambles to clutch the rails against the wall, disorientated when Rory tries to rush him again.  Ducking out of the way, Barry lands on the ground, his eyes immediately falling upon the gun just a few feet away.

He hears Rory stumbling toward him and quickly lunges toward it, his body dragging across the ground.  His hand struggles to reach it. Just as he hears steps coming closer, his fingers grip the hot Glock and he spins around and pulls the trigger. Barry watches as a bright red spot blooms on Rory’s chest who stills in his movement, his eyes wide. And then slowly as though someone poked him with a single finger, he tips backward and falls down the stairs.  

Barry lets his body sag back down on the ground, the gun falling from his hand with a clatter.  His chest heaves as he tries to get oxygen into his lungs, his mind suddenly numb as his head lolls to the side.  He had just killed his...whatever he was...and Leonard was somewhere out there. Leonard. He had just killed his cousin...

It was a shrill scream that breaks him out of his stupor, his body jerking to life at the sound.      

With energy he didn’t think he had left in him, he scrambles to stand.  His heart thumps in his chest at the decidedly female scream and he leans heavily against the rail on the wall as he rushes up the stairs to the next level.  He shoulders his way out the door and freezes at the sight.

Leonard stands just a few feet away from a startled Iris whose eyes flit over to his the moment he barrels through the door.  But he notes with relief that his gun wasn’t drawn at least.

Leonard, for his part, turns to him with a grim look.  “So I guess you won, huh?”

Barry keeps his eyes trained on the gun in his hand as he slowly tries to make his way closer to Iris.  Leonard tightens his grip on the gun in warning and Barry stops.

“I bet he did that to you, did he?” Leonard says, gesturing at Barry’s sagging body.  The words were unspoken but he knew just who he meant. He feels drained and as though he could drop down any moment, but the sight of Iris, the fear of something happening to her keeps him standing. “Not surprised to see it go down like this, really.  He dead?”

Barry swallows thickly, unable to find his voice let alone the words.  Leonards nods and looks down at his gun.

“I always believed in the saying that the ‘blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,’” Snart drawls as he flips his gun in his hands.  “Mick was my cousin, but you were always a brother to me. Scrawny little kid devastated over losing his father. I didn’t get it myself considering my own was a fucking bastard that beat the shit out of me.  Quite literally sometimes. But you...you were this broken little kid with no meat to his bones and I thought ‘This kid didn’t ask to be born into this shit world only to be chewed up and spat back out.’ That’s what it did to me, but I found a way and I had to show you too. You made me proud, Barry.  And now...”

Barry’s heart thumps painfully in his chest, aching with the fear.  But there was grief. “Leonard, I swear I didn’t mean for this, for any of it.”

“Sure, I believe that.  But here we are. What’s left of us?”

“Len, I know I screwed up so much and...you don’t deserve this, but neither does she.”

From his peripheral vision, he sees Iris turn her head and he allows himself to look at her.  “Barry,” she says softly with caution in her eyes. “The cops are going to be here soon.”

Barry looks back at Leonard, gauging whether the words had an effect on him.  But looking at his still calm demeanor, Barry wonders if he even heard them.

“The cops are coming, Len.  You either drop the weapon and come with me, or you stay and go to prison.”

Snart looks down at his gun with a rueful smile.  His hands caress the surface of it softly as he shakes his head.  “That’s where you’re wrong, Barry. The only two options for me are dead or alive, but I’m not going back to prison.  I’m done with that.”

He keeps his gaze down at his gun with a thoughtful look before shaking his head and letting out a small sigh.  “You little fucker,” he whispers. He looks back at Barry and clenches his jaw.

“Get out of here.”

Barry freezes for a moment, trying to register what he had just heard.  “W-what?”

“I didn’t stutter,” he sneers.  

Barry’s eyes flicker to Iris who looks just as thrown.  “Her too,” Snart says.

In the midst of confusion, Barry had enough sense to take that moment and get closer to Iris.  He slowly inches toward her just as Iris does the same until they’re both standing in front of Snart.  

The moment she’s close enough he scrambles for her waist, pulling her closer as his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.  She had stayed. He didn’t have time to think about the implications of her actions, but he feels it in his chest as he holds her face gently but urgently, whispering if she was ok.

She nods, her own hand trembling as it reaches for his wound at the side of his head.  

“Flesh wound, I’ll be ok,” he reassures.

“You won’t be if you don’t get out of here.”  

Barry looks over to Snart, still clutching Iris close to him.  “I-I don’t understand.”

He sneers at them with a look of disdain and disappointment.  “I’ll never forgive. And I’ll never forget. But I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then come with—”

Suddenly Snart stops and points a finger up, tilting his head as though listening for something.  “You hear that?”

Barry exhales as his ear perks, trying to catch a sound.  The moment he hears it, dread fills his body. Sirens. By the way Iris stiffens in his arms, he knows she hears it too.

“Clocks ticking and you’re almost out of time.  By my estimation, they’re about twelve minutes away.  So you either accept my generosity or you let the coppers have you.  What’s it going to be?”

“What about you?”

“Like I said, prison isn’t an option for me.”  He pauses and looks toward the doorway as the siren gets louder.  “What’s it going to be, Barry?”

“Len,” he breathes, his heart aching.  “I-I... please, come with us.”

Snart looks back at him with thin lips and Barry tries to decipher the look in his eyes.  Leonard was always hard to read, always seemed calm and collected even in the midst of a tense situation.  He took it all in stride. Perhaps it was a result of his upbringing and living with the torment of his father’s hands that desensitized him and warped his perception.  Nothing was worse than the violence in his home and perhaps everything else felt feasible to him.

But as Barry watches his brother’s eyes, there’s something akin to resolve in them.  He was sure of his fate and there was nothing Barry could do to stop him. The betrayal, the lies...they were all eclipsed by the brotherhood that always remained strong between Barry and Snart.  And it would continue for the rest of their days.

Barry releases Iris, the pain in his chest strong he felt it could choke him.  When he gets closer, he slowly reaches out to touch Snart’s shoulder, feeling the kevlar for his own reassurance.  He hands the weapons he collected over to Snart before looking up at him, meeting his cool blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.  “I’m so sorry.”

Snart looks at him for a moment.  “Ride or die,” he says. “Get outta here.   Now .”

Barry nods jerkily, hearing the sirens louder than ever, and backs away.  He whirls around to grab Iris’ hands and runs toward the side door. He takes one last look at Snart who remains watching them even as he faces the front entrance.  He feels Iris tugging on his hand—his freedom, his future—and he finally looks away.

As Barry and Iris make their escape, he stops at one of the floors and searches the wall for the gas pipe.  It only takes a few hits, but he busts it open until the air hisses out. He places one of the explosives next to it, setting the timer.

“What are you doing?”  Iris asks with a look of horror.

“We have to blow this place up.”  Maybe it would buy Len some time. Maybe the explosion would distract the cops away from him.  Either way, he had to try.

“What?   Barry, it could kill everyone!”

It was a risk he had to take.  He doesn’t waste another moment before dragging her away until they’re on the top floor.  He places another one there, setting the timer.

The sounds of the sirens are deafening as Barry and Iris make it up to the roof, but he keeps them low until they’re a safe distance away.

They hold each other tightly once they are and watch as the explosions create fumes, cracking and crumbling the side of the warehouse.  They don’t know whether Snart made it out alive but there was only one thing they could do. Live.

When they make it back to her place, she settles him on the couch before rushing out with the list he had given her.  He’d be ok, but he needed medical attention sooner rather than later and seeing as how going to the hospital was out of the question, supplies from the nearest drug store would have to do.

He calls out to her before she leaves the apartment, his voice raspy with emotion and exhaustion.  “Iris.”

She turns back to look at him over her shoulder, her hand stilling on the doorknob.  

“Are you hurt?” he asks.  

She shakes her head. “I’m ok,” she says softly.  

It’s the reassurance he needed but the fear didn’t leave him as he watches her walk out the door.  He counts down the minutes until she returns safely back to him. His paranoid mind thinks of all kinds of scenarios in which she would be taken from him.  

Taken by who?  Zoom was dead and Iris had no involvement with the criminals as far as the cops knew.  No one should be coming for her, but still, he has to fight to keep calm. He finally let himself breath when she returns, arms heavy with the weight of grocery bags.  

She had brought food too and hands him a chocolate pudding cup as she gets to work.  

“Have you ever patched up a bullet wound before?”

She scoffs, her face drawn as she scrubs her hands over a bucket before drying them on a fresh towel. She slips on vinyl gloves and turns to him.  

“No,” she says dryly.  “But something tells me you have so you’re going to have to walk me through it.  Aside from Grey’s Anatomy, I know jack squat about it.”

He watches her jerky movements and he can tell she’s barely keeping it together.  He wants to ask her again if she’s ok, but the look in her eyes stop him and begins to instruct her.  He closes his hands, letting her gentle hands tend to him as he softly instructs her how to stitch up the open wound on the side of his head.  He grits his teeth in pain but pushes along and within a couple of hours, she’s cleaned him up and patched up his wounds.

She ushers him into the shower and surprises him when she remains by his side, demanding him to strip.  “You don’t have to—”

“I’m not going to let you slip and fall in my shower after everything.  So just get to it.” And without another word, he obeys. At some point, as she’s cleaning his face with a soapy towel, he watches the expression on her face relax.  Her hands tender and slow around the saran wrap she on his head, her eyes look lost in thought. He wants to desperately ask her what's on her mind, wants to know if she really is ok, but the fear of breaking this spell they were in stops him.  This spell that somehow allowed them to be calm despite the storm that was warring inside of them both.

“I’m a criminal now, aren’t I?” she whispers at one point.  He looks at her warily. By the definitions of the law, she was by aiding and abetting.  But was she like him and every other criminal out there? Never.

“You’re going to be ok.”  That much he would promise her as he lets her tend to him.

And he reveled in her touch while he could, in the soft gaze upon him.  It was more than he deserved and yet, here she was, washing away the blood on his hands like a forgiving saint.  And in this moment, while she was with him, he would savor this, stay there with her and push aside the dreadful thoughts at the back of his mind.  Push aside for the moment what he knew he had to do.

She brings her face closer to him, her eyes fluttering as she presses her lips to his cheekbone.  “I’m glad you’re ok,” she whispers.

He lets out a shaky breath, nuzzling against her cheek.  He furrows his brows as the pain in his chest tightens and his arms wrap around her.  “Why did you come back for me?” he whispers back.

He feels her shrug.  “I just couldn’t leave you.  I couldn’t have that on my conscious.”

It wasn’t exactly a love declaration, but he’d take it and while he’d like to press her for more, he remains silent, letting her be the one to reach and staying ready to take her hand when she does.  As much as he wanted to hear the words, this was enough to keep him steady and he’d carry it with him for the rest of his life. It would have to be enough to sustain him when she becomes absent in her life and he in hers.

Hours later, he watches Iris sleep in her bed, her wet hair dampening the pillow underneath her.  He kisses her lips and closes his eyes to savor the softness of them, trying to preserve the taste and imprint it into his mind.  He’d need something for the road.

Pulling away reluctantly, he doesn’t open his eyes until he sets the letter down on her bedside table where he’d left something important for her.  They had done their best to cover up their tracks and DNA, but whether Snart was alive or not, the cops knew his face and it was only a matter of time before they came looking for Barry.  And when they did, he wanted to be as far from Iris as possible where none of this would touch her.

He had already tainted her life enough and asked for more than he deserved, he would do this one selfless thing and leave her at peace. He’d have to leave her. He’d have to give her a fighting chance to live as normal of a life as she possibly could.

But no matter where he went and how far he traveled he knew two things with absolute certainty.  

One, he loved her more than anything, more than life itself.  

And two, he’d see her again.  One day, someday, he knew they would meet again.  

This side or the other.

[gfn-sam-evans]

Texts || Fabrevans

Taggings: Sam Evans & Quinn Fabray When: Thursday to Saturday Notes: Getting to know each other! <3

Quinn: Please do! And once you've got it, we'll talk about a vlog. Quinn: Oh geez. That's such an unflattering picture!! Quinn: Honestly, I started getting bored. Everyone was so busy with each other, I figured I'd get home to Jude. He gives me all the attention I want. Sam: Aye, aye! It shouldn’t be too far from now. I’ve talked to Blaine about singing there. Sam: It’s not! I think it’s cute. Sam: I didn’t realize you were bored.

 Quinn: Oh that'll be a great show then. I'm sure other people will show up to join in. Quinn: oh but it really is. I could always send you a better one. A way cuter one. Quinn: I mean it was fun at first but then idk...i was ready to leave. I felt slightly odd ball out

 Sam: I hope. Sam: Business is good but it’s not booming and I don’t want to hit a bad stretch of months. That freaks me out. Sam: I won’t say no to that. Sam: I didn’t realize how fast the night turned until that truth or dare game happened. Sam: I hope I didn’t make you feel awkward

 Quinn: I understand. I can see why you'd freak out. Your business is your baby. You want it to do well. Quinn: Well hopefully we can get you some publicity and get more people to come in :) Quinn: Hmmm, now i gotta pick a good one. GIve me a sec. Quinn: I think everyone was just tipsy, and horny apparently lol Quinn: oh no no. You didn't make me feel awkward at all. I won't lie, it wasn't a bad sight

 Sam: It really is. I never thought I’d have my own store. I still pinch myself about it. Sam: Yeah. Even my date and I got carried away but I reeled it in. Sam: It was fun to do that. Not something I wanted a group of people I know to see but I couldn’t back down.

 Quinn: Was it something you always wanted to do? Or did little Sammy have other aspirations? Quinn: Oh I saw that. Although, I think she would have been okay if you hadn't. Quinn: Hey sometimes alcohol makes us do the wildest things. As long as you had fun with it, that's all that matters

 Sam: Little Sammy wanted to play football but when that didn’t look like it was happening he changed things. Sam: You saw us making out? Sam: I did but when people started taking their shirts off I didn’t know if it was about to turn into a sex party.

 Quinn: So I take it you were a football player in high school? Woulda been just my type.  Quinn: Oh I thought you meant the lap dance. No. I didn't see you make out. I'm assuming this happened after I left. Quinn: Yeah it was getting wild. And while I'm not afraid of wild, I had had enough for one night

 Sam: You’re into jocks? I still play but only when I’ve got time. Sam: Yeah. That’s why I was confused. I took her home and then left after she fell asleep. It was a fun date but I don’t like being that guy who hooks up with someone right off the bat. Sam: Kissing is fine though. Sam: You’re not? What’s the wildest thing you’ve done?

 Quinn: Well I mean I was in HS. I was head cheerleader after all. But I was super into the artistic types too. Quinn: Ahh gotcha. Sorry for the confusion. But that's very gentlemanly of you. Quinn: I don't think there's anything wrong with kissing on the first date. Especially if you've had a good time... or you're super into/attracted to them. Quinn: Wildest? Ummm... climb up to the roof of a house and jump into a pool, half naked? I mean granted I was drunk so that could have been super dangerous.

 Sam: I try to draw but I’m not the best. I can do macaroni art and make actual masterpieces with it. I can show you if you ever want to see it. Sam: Quinn! That’s insane! Even I wouldn’t do something like that.

 Quinn: Wait seriously?? I have to see this. Ive never heard of someone who makes macaroni masterpieces. I'm intrigued.  Quinn: Yeah... not one of my proudest moments. I won't lie... I did a lot of stupid stuff the first two years after HS...

 Sam: They’re good. What I lack in drawing I’ve picked up with macaroni. Sam: Why after high school?

 Quinn: That's impressive. You're full of surprises Sam Evans Quinn: Well pretty much my whole childhood and high school career I had an image to uphold. For the sake of my mother basically. I got tired of it. So when I graduated, I wanted to live my own life. I uhh... I partied a lot. I was super social. But along with all of that, I hung out with the wrong crowd, did things I shouldn't have.... Just lost control of my life basically.   Quinn: wow I'm sorry, we barely know each other and I'm unloading all this heavy stuff on you. I'm so sorry.

 Sam: I like you shared that with me. I did a lot of stupid things in college. Not to live a deprived life but because I hung out with a lot of frat guys. They wanted me to pledge but I didn’t want to go through the whole Greek thing.

 Quinn: Are you sure? That's alot of information I'm sure you didn't want to know. Quinn: But yeah.. I didn't even bother with sororities. But I knew where all the parties were. Living in LA, there's always a party somewhere

Sam: We’ve all been through stuff, Quinn. It’s s lot but it’s still things that help me get to know you better. Sam: I spent my freshman year drunk most of the time. I had fun and met a lot of cool people. Did crazy things kinda kind what happened at that party.

 Quinn: I don't tell people these things. Even some of my closest friends here in Nashville know about this part of me. About my past. Quinn: Yeah sounds like me. I didn't even finish though. I uh... kinda got kicked out because I missed too many classes.  Quinn: I'm uh... really not proud of that.

 Sam: I used to dance for money. Sam: Only sharing that because you said you told me something real personal. But I get doing things you’re not proud of.

 Quinn: Sam you didn't have to do that. Just because I'm basically word vomiting right now doesn't mean you have to too. Quinn: But now I know why you're so good at it.

 Sam: That was me drunk. William sent me the video and I could tell I lost my touch. I needed money to send home and that was a quick way without dropping out of college. Sam: Just don’t tell anyone. Okay?

 Quinn: I've always heard it was a good way to make some serious chunk of change.  Quinn: Your secret is safe with me. I promise. I wouldn't tell a soul.

 Sam: It is. I made a crap load. It was insane because I’ve worked all types of jobs but that one was a last resort job and it paid the best. You lose a little of yourself and I had to go slow with giving my parents the money because they thought I was delivering pizzas.

 Quinn: oh wow. So like on average how much were you making a night? If you don’t mind me asking. I won’t lie but I kinda wish there wasn’t a stigma about the adult business. They’re just trying to make a living like everyone else.

 Sam: it depended on the night and how busy it was. The most I made in one night was $300. Sometimes you get requested by clients. I was one of the favorites there which seemed weird but it was extra money. I did it for a few months.

 Quinn: Wow. That's nice. The money I mean, not being favored by people. I'm glad you found what you actually wanted to do though. Although  some lucky lady is gonna be able to see your experienced moves.

 Sam: it’s nice but it messes with your head. I didn’t really want to date for awhile and didn’t exactly like to be touched. Sam: Technically many lucky people have.

 Quinn:  Oh wow. I never even thought about it messing with someone. I'm sorry. Here I am praising you for it and when in reality... it sounds like it's something you didn't really want to do.  Quinn: Well true but it's not the same like in the intimacy of the bedroom. That's what I meant.

 Sam: It’s cool, Q. You didn’t know and it wasn’t all bad. I met interesting people and got to take part in shows. It felt like being in theater with some of the acting we did. Just when I thought about what it was in the end. That’s what gets me. Sam: Oh. Uh, yeah. That...I haven’t heard any complaints when it comes to that.

 Quinn: Okay then, let's just say you were in Magic Mike... the musical? lol idk Quinn: Well from seeing your moves the other day, I didn't think you had

Quinn: I had a good time yesterday btw

 Sam: I did too! Sorry I didn’t realize I had pasta sauce on the side of my face.Sam: Magic Mike would make an interesting choice for one.

 Quinn: It's alright. It happens to the best of us. It was cute seeing you slightly blush. Quinn: actually i think it's actually a thing...

[doggonneit]

The Last Red Scribble | Part 1/2

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing/Characters: Kuroo/Tsukishima

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Single Parent AU

A.N. This is a part of the KuroTsuki Gift Exchange 2017, written for @moonislander on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

Italics is Tsukishima. Bold is Kuroo.

[Read on AO3]

Monday PM

(2:33) I’m about to slam my head into the wall. (2:33) Tobio got into another fight. (2:34) He’s fucking five, how does he keep picking fights.  

(2:35) what a champ

(2:35) What the fuck, Akiteru. (2:35) You’re not supposed to say that.

(2:36) wrong number bud but legit (2:36) tobios got a future in cage fighting (2:36) whos tobio

(2:38) Oh, sorry. Wrong number.

(2:40) well dont leave me hanging (2:40) i need to know who to put my money on in the future

(2:41) Don’t make this weirder than it already is.

(2:41) :)))))

(2:42) Tobio’s my son.

(2:43) are you an old man (2:43) is that why you started texting me (2:44) STRANGER DANGER STRANGER DANGER

(2:45) What the fuck, no. (2:46) I messed up my brother’s new number. (2:46) Evidently.  

(2:46) eviDENTly (2:47) arent you all smart and proper (2:47) thats how i like em

(2:49) Are you seriously flirting with me over text? (2:49) You don’t know stranger danger at all. (2:50) I don’t have time for this.  

(2:53) :((((( (2:55) come back

(2:56) I have to deal with my son.

(2:56) what an adulty adult (2:57) tell tobio hes a fucken champ

.

Tuesday AM

(7:22) sooo (7:22) i know your brothers name and your sons name (7:22) but not your name

(7:25) …

(7:25) hint hint

(7:26) Have you seen the latest stranger danger campaign? (7:26) It’s got your face all over it.  

(7:27) you think youre being funny but my mates crack jokes about my ugly mug making children cry (7:28) would tobio cry if he ever saw me

(7:30) He doesn’t even know what you look like.

(7:31) *image attached*

(7:34) I really don’t have time for this. I’m getting Tobio ready for school.

(7:35) if life were a party youd be the clown that sucks all the fun away (7:35) XP

(7:36) Why are you making that face?

(7:36) you hurt my feelings so im sticking my tongue out at you

(7:38) No-one uses that emoji for hurt feelings.

(7:39) i just did (7:39) XP (7:39) oh look i just did it again (7:39) XP (7:39) and again look at me go

(7:42) All right, all right, I’ll ask. (7:44) Tobio says you look like you killed a cat.  

(7:44) how does someone even look like that (7:44) your son needs glasses (7:45) what do you think then (7:45) smouldering eyes wicked grin (7:45) admit it im pretty

(7:46) Yeah, pretty atrocious. (7:46) What’s with that hair?

(7:47) HI THIS IS KUROOS BEST FREIDN FOERVER BOKUTO PLS DONT METNION HIS BEHDEAD IT MAKES HM SELF CONSCOIUS

(7:47) Aww. Is Kuroo sulking now?

(7:47) sajfkdsjp (7:47) asdffhajlkkasdfghijkl

(7:48) I feel like I should be concerned. (7:50) I am actually concerned.  

(7:51) how do i get rid of a body

(7:51) What.

(7:51) how do i (7:51) get rid of (7:51) a body

(7:51) Cook him and serve him to the police who knock on your door asking for his whereabouts.

(7:52) babe thats brilliant (7:52) youre a committed accomplice now

(7:52) On a scale of 1-10, how often do you hit on nameless and faceless strangers over the phone?

(7:52) 1 (7:53) its only ever been you (7:53) *heart emoji*

(7:53) I’m flattered.

(7:53) we have a dilemma (7:54) you know my name and my face (7:54) ive lost the advantage (7:54) who are you o mysterious phone man

(7:54) You really want to know?

(7:55) yes!!

(7:55) Well (7:55) My name is (7:55) *middle finger emoji*  

(7:56) i am (7:56) fucking betrayed (7:56) my own accomplice

(7:57) :)))))

.

Wednesday PM

(4:17) *image attached* (4:17) fight gloves for tobio when he grows up lololol

(4:20) Don’t even joke about that.

(4:21) did he get into another fight (4:21) whatd he do steal another kids party pie

(4:22) He ruined someone’s sandcastle.

(4:22) that punk

(4:22) He also threw the bucket at their head and made them cry.

(4:23) holy shit (4:23) i know you cant see but im pissing myself laughing

(4:23) That’s the second time this month. (4:24) Is he going for a new record? How concerned should I be? (4:24) I should ask my brother for advice.  

(4:24) okay but in all seriousness (4:25) dont kids usually act out because theyre upset about things

(4:26) Yep.

(4:26) you sound like you know whats going on

(4:27) Yep.  

(4:27) is the thing not an easy fix

(4:28) Tobio can’t exactly move back into his old neighbourhood and old school.

(4:28) ohhh (4:28) i get that totally been there (4:29) though that happened to me in middle school so i handled it differently

(4:30) You mean you didn’t stomp on sandcastles and throw buckets at people’s heads? (4:30) Shocking.  

(4:31) real mature of me ayy (4:31) but its chill tobio just needs time to adjust

(4:32) He’s been living with me for four months already.

(4:33) hes trying to survive a new environment (4:33) go easy on him

(4:35) All good and well until he accidentally kills one of his classmates.

(4:35) what could he possibly do (4:35) nah dont answer that

(4:36) You’re not inspiring much confidence right now.

(4:37) okay hows this (4:38) the most dangerous thing in a school is a pencil (4:38) if he stabs it through someones eye (4:38) what are the chances of a five year old having that good of an aim

(4:39) We could be surprised.

(4:40) lets give tobio the benefit of the doubt (4:40) have i brought your fears to rest or nah

(4:50) You’re interesting to talk to, I’ll give you that.

(4:50) is that why youve kept talking to me despite the anonymous and rather suspicious nature of our relationship

(4:50) Sure.

(4:51) *heart eyes emoji*

.

Thursday PM

(6:44) ive been thinking

(6:46) Make sure you give yourself a break every ten minutes. We wouldn’t want to strain your mental capabilities.

(6:47) hush child i got something to say (6:47) about tobio sort of

(6:48) I’m listening.

(6:49) so yesterdays conversation made me go all introspective (6:49) and if all tobios doing is throwing things (6:50) the lil guy will go far in life (6:50) i mean when i was five i was eating sand

(6:51) Congratulations, you just tripped over the lowest bar society set for its most basic standards.

(6:51) savage i love it (6:52) bokuto just called me a masochist (6:52) he doesnt even know what that means i bet he learned it from akaashi

(6:54) … (6:55) Who’s Akaashi?  

(6:55) the most beautiful man to grace the earth and bokutos boyfriend (6:55) im not even kidding his face was sculpted by gods (6:56) *image attached*

(6:57) Wow.

(6:57) exactly (6:57) no one knows how bokuto snagged him (6:58) my moneys on witchcraft

(6:59) Have a little more faith in your Best Freidn Foerver.

(6:59) hes my best bro but he does NOT have that much game

(6:59) You misspelled Best Freidn Foerver.

(7:00) all right he types like an electrocuted toddler (7:00) hes there for me during the good bad and ugly (7:00) and i support him 100% (7:01) but theres no logical explanation for how he got akaashi

(7:01) Maybe he has charm.

(7:02) gasp (7:02) babe (7:02) did you just imply i dont have any charm

(7:03) I didn’t say anything of the sort but it’s an apt description.

(7:03) you really are a savage (7:04) totally my type just saying

(7:05) For all you know I’m a sixty year old man with whiskers and a pot belly.

(7:05) im a personality kinda guy anyway (7:05) so what do you look like

(7:07) Shh.

(7:07) ?

(7:07) Can you hear that?

(7:07) ??

(7:08) Stranger danger.

(7:08) DUDE COME ON (7:08) or are you actually a sixty year old man with whiskers and a pot belly (7:08) because no judgement if you are

(7:10) *image attached*

(7:11) holy shit (7:11) HOLYS HIT (7:11) AJGSFAJKALHHJKKKLLLL

(7:13) Uh. (7:14) Hello? (7:15) Are you there? (7:18) I’m actually kind of worried now.  

(7:20) Hi, this is Akaashi. Kuroo’s fine; he’s muttering to himself on the floor. (7:21) Something about being sculpted by gods and touched by angels?

(7:22) What the fuck.

(7:22) Nice selfie :)

.

Friday PM

(9:28) arms (9:28) abs (9:28) legs (9:28) sore

(9:31) Do I really want to know? (9:31) No, I don’t.  

(9:32) :( (9:32) i experienced life death and hell all in the same day

(9:33) Now I can’t not know.

(9:33) i had vball training for a match next week and it was torture (9:33) and when we thought it was done no (9:34) we had practice matches with alumni and it was torture round two (9:34) then i had coaching which i usually love (9:34) but the kids kept spiking balls at me (9:35) 10 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS BODY 50 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS HEAD 100 POINTS IF YOU HIT HIS NOSE

(9:36) You play volleyball?

(9:37) thats all you took from that

(9:37) I used to play volleyball in high school.

(9:37) wait are you serious (9:37) what position??

(9:38) Middle blocker.

(9:38) me too!! (9:38) what are the chances of us both playing vball and being middle blockers (9:39) this is destiny i feel it

(9:40) That was another lifetime ago lol.

(9:40) once a vball player always a vball player (9:40) how tall are you

(9:41) 195cm, why?

(9:43) 195 and yOU DONT PLAY VBALL (9:43) this is a crime (9:44) tell me tobio plays vball

(9:45) I... don’t think he’s ever tried it?

(9:46) the outrage (9:46) how could you (9:47) i just felt my heart crack (9:47) oohhh the pain

(9:47) Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?

(9:47) i (9:47) ijakl

(9:48) ?? (9:50) Did you disappear on me again. (9:50) This seems to be a growing trend.

(9:51) Hi, this is Akaashi again. Kuroo is currently incapacifjskkl (9:51) WAHT DID U DO TO MY BSET FREIND FOREBER WHYS HE ALL RED N CHOKN ON HIS WORSD

(9:52) Oh. (9:52) Scroll up.

(9:52) OHO (9:53) OHOHO

.

Saturday AM

(11:10) my mates wont stop laughing at me (11:10) i live in a house of dicks (11:11) cant even escape them theyre on my team (11:11) i blame you

(11:15) Sucks to be you lol.

(11:15) are you taking pleasure in my pain

(11:15) It sounds wrong when you put it that way.

(11:15) ;) (11:16) i’m still upset though (11:16) make me feel better?

(11:17) You seem to think I possess the ability to feel pity. (11:17) I don’t.  

(11:18) you know what you do possess (11:18) the ability to feel annoyance (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) is it annoying yet (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) ! (11:18) !

(11:19) ALL RIGHT, STOP.

(11:19) victory

(11:20) What do you want.

(11:17) whats your name

(11:17) Are you serious.

(11:17) i wanna know

(11:18) You reek of desperation.

(11:18) not gonna change my mind

(11:19) …

(11:19) wanna do the whole !!! thing again

(11:21) Fine. (11:21) You’ll ask politely.

(11:21) dom huh (11:21) im into that (11:22) will you pretty please with a cherry on top tell me what your name is

(11:22) N (11:22) O (11:22) *heart emoji*

(11:24) i cant believe (11:24) how could you (11:24) youre so mean

(11:24) :)))))

(11:25) shouldve expected it (11:25) do you always play with peoples hearts like this

(11:25) I enjoy jerking you around. You make some pretty good entertainment.

(11:26) glad to be of service :’)

(11:26) I suppose I could throw you a bone.

(11:26) im not falling for it this time

(11:26) Tsukishima.

(11:27) …

(11:27) My name is Tsukishima.

(11:27) it is (11:27) up down left right with you

(11:27) Disappointed?

(11:28) NEVER WITH YOU (11:28) TSUKKIIII

(11:28) No. (11:28) Do not.  

(11:28) i love your name its beautiful like you

(11:29) I revoke your right to say my name ever again.

(11:29) TSUKKIIII (11:29) *heart eyes emoji*

(11:32) I have never regretted anything more in my life.

.

Sunday PM

(3:24) You said you have a volleyball match next week, right?

(3:28) is this a dream (3:28) are you actually texting me first

(3:29) Miracles abound today.

(3:29) yeah i have a match next week why

(3:29) I mentioned it to Tobio and he got really excited. (3:30) He made me explain everything. I spent hours talking about rules and moves.  

(3:30) i  knew that kid had the vball genes in him

(3:30) I even dug up some old practice tapes from high school. (3:31) He’s obsessed with setting.  

(3:31) hed get along with my setter (3:31) that arrogant ass (3:31) i love him though

(3:32) *image attached*

(3:33) what… is that

(3:33) Tobio’s lack of artistic talent.

(3:33) i hope you didnt tell him that

(3:34) He said it was you blocking and scoring the winning point.

(3:35) he drew a picture of me?

(3:35) He captured your likeness down to the last red scribble.

(3:35) omg… omg...

(3:37) It’s not that big of a deal.

(3:37) youre not ruining this for me (3:37) this is the best day of my life

(3:37) Remember when we talked about low standards?

(3:37) your son loves me

(3:38) He drew a picture of you.

(3:38) and how many other people has he drawn???

(3:38) …

(3:38) thought so (3:39) tell my biggest fan i said hello and thank you (3:39) its the prettiest picture ive ever gotten

(3:39) Don’t get nudes much, huh.

(3:40) wow (3:40) WOWW (3:40) that went beyond savage (3:40) that was straight up murder

(3:41) You like it.

(3:41) yeah im really wondering about that masochistic streak

(3:41) About that.

(3:42) ??

(3:42) I was thinking (3:42) If you were interested (3:42) I could help you explore that.

(3:44) i just dropped my fuckign phone (3:44) are you fucking with me right now

(3:45) Yes.

(3:46) i fucking hate you

(3:46) No, you don’t.

(3:46) no i don’t

(3:46) Why do you keep falling for these things.

(3:47) actually im falling for you

(3:47) Seriously.

(3:47) hope (3:47) its all i got buddy (3:49) is this going to be like last time when you said no but then changed your mind

(3:50) No.

(3:50) dammit

.

Monday PM

(7:18) happy one week anniversary babe (7:18) do i get a gift (7:18) eyebrow wiggle

(7:21) Did you just type -eyebrow wiggle- at me

(7:22) *video attached*

(7:23) I did not ask for a video of you wiggling your eyebrows.

(7:23) its my gift to you

(7:23) I’m so… grateful.

(7:24) cmon gift gift gift

(7:24) I don’t know, I don’t have anything. (7:24) Actually (7:25) *image attached*  

(7:25) omg is that tobio (7:25) hes so fucken cute wtf (7:26) look at those hamster cheeks (7:26) whats he eating

(7:26) Blueberry cupcake. (7:26) It’s his reward for behaving in school.  

(7:27) aww no fights today?

(7:28) His teacher said he engaged positively with other students. He was trying to play volleyball with them.

(7:28) omg thats adorable (7:28) i see where he gets it from (7:28) are you teaching him how to play

(7:30) I taught him how to receive but I’m rusty. (7:30) I should look into classes for him. (7:30) Do they even have classes for kids that young?  

(7:31) the rec centre where i coach does (7:31) idk about other places though

(7:31) Whereabouts is your rec centre?

(7:32) shh

(7:32) You’re not doing the stranger danger thing on me.

(7:32) do you hear that

(7:32) Can you hear my sigh travelling across the wind.

(7:33) STRANGER DANGER

(7:33) Are you done.

(7:33) my centres in tokyo lol

(7:34) It wouldn’t happen to be the Tokyo Sports and Recreation Centre?

(7:34) how did you know that (7:34) oh my god this is real (7:34) STRANGER DANGER

(7:36) It’s a twenty minute walk from my place.

(7:36) i know i just joked about stranger danger but should you really be telling me that

(7:37) Take it as proof that I don’t think you’re a predatory serial killer.

(7:37) thats the nicest thing youve ever said to me (7:38) *heart emoji* (7:38) well if youre interested the kiddy classes are wed 5pm and sat 10am (7:38) you can go to one or both

(7:40) Hmm.

(7:40) times no good?

(7:42) My brother has Tobio on both those days. (7:42) I’ll have to talk to him about this.  

(7:43) ahh dont wanna encroach on uncle nephew bonding time

(7:43) I don’t think Akiteru will mind-- he used to play volleyball too.

(7:43) how did you ever think tobio wouldnt be a vball player (7:44) its clearly in his genes

(7:44) Wishful thinking. I never really liked volleyball.

(7:45) what no (7:45) why

(7:46) It was just a school club. I only did it because it was something to do.

(7:47) you come into my house

(7:48) Lol.

(7:48) well hey its paying off now (7:48) i bet tobio looks at you like youre a god

(7:49) Yeah. (7:49) It’s the first time he’s really looked at me. (7:50) So thanks. (7:50) :)

[a-tired-bitch]

You Should Know Better Pt.15

23 Parts:  I  -  II  -  III  -  IV  -  V  -  VI  -  VII  - VIII  -  IX  -  X  -  XI  -  XII  -  XIII -  XIV  -  XV  -  XVI  -  XVII  -   XVIII  -  XIX  -  XX  -   XXI  -  XXII  -  XXIII

MASTER LIST

YSKB MASTER LIST

Summary: Relaxing at a bar, Joe and Dustin shoot the shit until an unexpected bar-goer arrives.

POV: Josephine

Characters: Joe Merriweather, Dustin Ayers (Indented), Claire Merriweather (Indented Italics), and everyone’s favorite dog, Duke

Word Count: 2800ish

Author’s Note: I present you with everyone's new favorite character, Claire Merriweather. This also takes place a day after the last chapter.

Quote:  “For fucks sake, I should have known better.”

Tuesday night rolled around and the low humming of people chatting away along with the clinking of bottles and mugs filtered throughout the busy bar.

Working Monday’s and Wednesday’s as a professor and Thursday’s through Sunday’s as an officer, the only real time Joe had the chance to blow off some steam and attempt to relax was on Tuesday’s. However, it still wasn’t enough - both professions began to weigh down on him.

Leaning forward, Joe's forearms rested against the cool, smooth surface of the wooden bar, his eyes focused on the droplets of condensation that raced down his mug while his ears tuned in and out of the ramblings of Dustin.

“I’m telling you, Josephine, by the time I get to be your age, I’m either going to be one of those cops that eat donuts all day and has one of those cliche mustaches, whose had five hernias and three slipped disks or I’m going to turn in my twenty years, retire, and then teach at a local college because I have nothing better to do with my time like a certain someone I know.” Smirking and side-eying his friend, he gripped his beer bottle, bringing it to his lips and taking a swig from it.

Bringing his mug to his lips, Joe paused, lifting a brow as he turned to look at his friend. “Did you seriously just call me ‘Josephine’?”

Swallowing, Dustin proudly shook his head. “Out of all the things I just said, you picked up on that?” He asked, his tone playful. “But you’re damn right, I sure did.”

“No, out of all the things you just said, I picked up on the most important detail.” Finally sipping from the mug, Joe placed it back down, a satisfying 'ah’ coming from him after swallowing.

“You know,” Dustin shook a finger at him “you can be a real dick sometimes.”

Joe grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of my hidden talents.” Staring into the mirror behind the bar, Joe watched as Dustin stared right back at him, his head shaking, a smile resting on the younger man's face.

Swiveling around, Dustin rested a forearm on the bar while his hand clutched his bottle, resting the container on his thigh. “How’s your office doing?”

Pretending to be confused, Joe furrowed his brow, his eyes resting on the mug before him. “What do you mean how is my office?”

“When I surprised you yesterday with coffee and donuts because I am such a good friend, there was this musty odor in there. If you ask me, smelled like sex.” A smug smirk claimed Dustin’s lips before disappearing as he drank from his bottle.

It was almost as if his heart dropped into his stomach after hearing what Dustin had to say. In all honesty, Dustin wasn’t wrong about the smell, but of course, Joe wasn’t willing to admit to the source of the smell. After all, Dustin was under the impression that Joe was 'banging the mom’ of his student and Joe planned on keeping that impression alive…for now at least.

Joe brought the mug back to his lips, swallowing more of the cold liquid than he expected to - he needed a moment to calm down after Dustin’s comment.

“Smelt like sex?” He questioned, shaking his head. “Because I’m totally having sex in my office, but shit, wait, hold on, who would I be sticking my dick in? My fellow colleagues because that’s the only plausible choice,” his tone sarcastic as can be even though he was lying through his teeth.

Roughly slapping his shoulder, Dustin burst out in laughter. “Calm down, pal, I’m just busting your balls. No need to get all pissy.” Quieting down, his eyes wandered around the establishment, scanning the occupants. “I mean, it isn’t the only plausible choice. Merriweather could be banging a female student or you could get with the daughter and the mother, but, that’s kinda weird.”

With eyes boring into Dustin, Joe bit down on his cheek, slightly annoyed by all the banter.

Pulling his sights away from the seated crowd, Dustin locked eyes with Joe, his aura suddenly changing. He had much experience with this certain look and he knew he was walking a thin line now. “Or, you know, you could be banging no one at all. You’re not that stupid. You wouldn’t have sex with anyone in your office anyways.”

“There you go, Dustin, thinking with your head and not your ass. I’m very proud of you, son.” Joe joked, glad the issue was slowly blowing over.

Time slowly passed and Joe was on his second mug while Dustin blew threw another two bottles. Joe was due to lecture the following day while Dustin had the day off, allowing for his partner to drink more since he knew Joe would sober enough to drive the both of them home.

“I’m liking the whole black on black on black combo on you,” Dustin looked over Joe. “You sure look different in a leather jacket and jeans as opposed to your ironed button up and slacks” Flagging down the bartender, he motioned for some shots. “Keep ‘em coming too.”

Astonished by his stupidity, Joe glanced in his direction. “The fuck you mean? Our uniforms are black…on black…on black.”

Watching as the bartender placed the amber filled glasses before Dustin, Joe shook his head. “You downing those on your own or am I supposed to help?”

Narrowing his eyes, the blond-haired man ran a hand along his cheek. “You’ve got a point. They are black, but you get what I mean.” Downing the last few sips of his beer, he turned his attention to the shots. “Well, you’re driving and have to fill those brains with your precious knowledge tomorrow, so, I don’t expect you to keep up with the young guns, but one, maybe two couldn’t hurt since you can usually hold your alcohol.”

Sucking on his teeth, it only took a second for Joe to come to his decision - there was no denying that Joe was a fan of alcohol when the chance presented itself. “You’re lucky it’s a Tuesday night and not a Monday night because you know from experience that I’d drink you under the table.”

Pulling a shot towards their bodies, the two men, in harmony, lifted the glasses and downed the amber liquid, repeating the process once more.

“Now, as a man who attempts to uphold the laws of the land, I’m going to have to strongly advise you that you stop drinking now.” Cocking his head back, Dustin swiveled around in his chair, a chain of laughter cascading out of his mouth. He stared at the door that was slowly being opened, two brunettes and a blonde walked through the door. Shaking his head out, his eyes widened as he focused on the blonde. “Oh fuck,” he whispered under his breath, quickly swiveling back around and lowering his head. “And as a man who is your dearest friend, I highly and I mean highly suggest that you don’t turn around and that we leave.”

Sliding the empty glasses away, Joe glanced at Dustin, confused by his comments and his posture - it was like he was trying to hide from someone.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, looking into the mirror, scanning the people behind him only to find no one of interest.

“Last time I checked, I don’t have a stuttering problem.” Dustin quickly glanced over his shoulder, watching the women chat amongst themselves. “Don’t look to your left.”

Confused, yet interested by the strange situation, Joe straightened in his stool. “Why? Who’s here?” Taking the responsibility to answer the question on his own, Joe turned to his left, his eyes scanning the bodies until they landed on the person Dustin was more than likely speaking about.

Freezing, Joe watched the woman who he had once called his wife, mingle with her friends. He looked her over, his eyes resting on a ring that claimed the finger he had once claimed with his own. His eyes lingered for just a moment before she turned in his direction. “Oh shit,” he muttered, tearing his sights away from the woman and turning back around.

“You dumbass,” Dustin scolded, slapping the back of his head. “Told you not to look over there you.”

Glaring at Dustin, Joe began to grind his teeth, his eyes looking away and at the mirror in his sights.

It was obvious Claire had noticed him, it was apparent since Joe watched in the mirror as she made her way towards him - his body tensing as she inched closer and closer.

         “Joesph Derek Merriweather.” Claire’s hand glided up his back until it rested on his shoulder. “Surprised to see you here.” Standing between the two seated men, Claire glanced at Dustin. “Nice to see you, Dustin, it’s been a while,” her right hand coming up to pat the man’s shoulder.

Joe winced at Claire’s touch. “Claire,” he whispered, his eyes opening once her hand rested on his shoulder. “By the ring on your finger, guessing you moved on fairly quickly. Hate to say it, but I kind of feel sorry for the bastard that gave it to you.”

       Removing her hand from Dustin and placing both of them on each of Joe’s shoulders, she leaned into his ear. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself, Joe. You and I are still married.”

In that exact moment, all the air from Joe’s lungs escaped, it was as if someone decked him right in the ribs. He couldn’t move, he was frozen. He couldn’t speak, he was at a loss for words. He couldn’t blink, his eyes were locked on his reflection in the mirror.

When she leaned away from him, his frozen trance came undone. “Wait, what?” You and I signed the papers a week ago. What the fuck do you mean we’re still married. I swear to fucking god, Claire, if you —.”

         “Don’t even start with the false threats, Joe, I’m far too used to them.” Walking to the empty stool next to him, she took a seat. “But just because we signed them in the presence of each other, doesn’t mean the procedure is completed. We’re still married,” she air quoted ‘married’ “until I turn in the papers and the papers are finalized.” She shook her head, false disappointment radiating from her. “Should have been smarter, husband. Should have taken the responsibility of turning them in yourself.”

Covering his face with his hands, Joe slowly shook his head. He couldn’t believe that situation and what she had done. Hopefully, although he lacked any hope in Claire, this was all some sadistic joke she was playing. Sadly, he knew firsthand how much of a conniving, yet clever woman she could be, but this was a whole different level.

“Claire, please, oh, please, tell me that you’re busting my balls right,” his plea was muffled as he slowly moved his hands down his face.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he straightened up, turning to face the blonde. “Look, I know I don’t have much trust in you after everything, but I entrust you to turn those papers in,” he leaned in closer to her, “no, actually, I’m telling you to turn those fucking papers in by the end of this goddamn month. In a few weeks, they will turn void.”

        Smiling, Claire snaked her hand down, resting it on his thigh.

He quickly glanced down at her hand. “Isn’t that what got you in trouble with me? Placing your hands on me?” He gripped her hand, tossing it up on the bar. “Don’t touch me.” He warned.

        Ignoring what he had to say, Claire spoke. “I thought you said you were always three steps ahead of people in thirty different directions, but look at that, looks like you’re three steps behind me in only one direction.” Leaning forward, she grabbed one of the shot glasses. “Not as clever as you portray yourself to be.” She smiled, her icy blue eyes locking with his warm hazel ones. “I’ll be seeing you around, my dear husband.” She added, downing the shot, and standing up, pausing before walking away. “And wait, isn’t that what got you in trouble with me? Drinking?” She said almost mockingly as she walked away.

Watching her strut away for a second, Joe slowly turned back around, a shocked and open-mounted Dustin coming into view.

“Ho-ly shit.” Dustin whispered, a shaky and fake laugh accompanying his response. “What the fuck just happened?” He asked, his eyes still staring at the bar - it was as if he was scared to look up.

Without a single word, Joe reached over, grabbing the three refilled shot glasses.

Downing one, he grabbed the next. Down two, he grabbed the last. Downing the last shot, he grabbed his mug, finishing the rest of the beer. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

“Whoa, pal, take it easy.” Dustin placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “After all that, in a few minutes, you’ll be in no shape to drive. You know, the quicker you drink, the faster the effects come.”

Joe sat there silently, his face covered by a hand, his eyes closed. Not only on the outside was he fuming, but within, his blood was boiling by the unexpected news.

Digging into his jacket pocket, he searched for his keys, tossing them onto the counter. “Drive,” he muttered to Dustin.

Abruptly taking to his feet, the stool nearly collided with the ground. “Let’s go,” Joe commanded. As he walked away, his eyes locked onto Claire’s until he pulled the doors open and walked outside.

After a 'fuck’, 'shit’, and 'bitch’ filled ride home, the two men finally pulled into the driveway.

Helping a disheveled and belligerent Joe out of the Jeep and up the front door, Dustin followed behind the man, ensuring that if he were to stumble over his feet or fall, he would be able to catch him.

Taking a second to make sure Joe was steady on his feet, Dustin walked around, unlocking the front door and motioning for him to get inside. “You poor bastard,” he muttered, receiving a stern look from Joe.

As barking filled the house, Dustin calmed Duke. “Calm down, super dog. Dusty boy is here taking care you of daddy because your mommy dropped a bombshell on him at the bar.”

“I swear, I’ll drop a fucking bombshell on her if she doesn’t fucking turn in those god damn motherfucking papers.” Joe drunkenly babbled as he cautiously entered his own house, using the walls to keep his balance.

“Yeah, okay, I’m sure you will. Just take it easy bud.” Entering behind his drunken friend, Dustin kneed away a playful and rowdy Duke. “You take it easy too, you runt. I don’t mind getting scratched up, but I’d rather get scratched by a woman than a dog. Full offense, Duke.”

Ignoring the two lovebirds, Joe continued on his way towards the hallway that led to the master bedroom. “Duke, leave him alone, let’s go to bed,” Joe commanded, his speech slurred.

Joe paused to turn and face Dustin one last time. “You can take the couch and spend the night or do whatever, but if you leave, lock the house up. You know where the key is,” he instructed.

“Aren’t you supposed to offer the guest your bed?” Dustin joked, before walking away and over to the fridge. “I’m kidding.”

Joe zoned out for a moment, his sights latching onto the wall beside him. It wasn’t until the slamming of the fridge that Joe looked away, shaking the cobwebs out, and nibbling on his lower lip. 

Turning into the hallway, Joe stopped, his eyes scanning over the pictures that littered the wall. It didn’t take long until his eyes rested on the wedding picture. After a moment, he pulled the frame from the wall, throwing it onto the floor, watching as glass spreading across the wood.

The clash forced Dustin to peek into the hallway, a 'fuck’ echoing throughout the silent house.

Clenching his jaw, Joe stepped over the mess, glass crunching under the weight of his body as he entered his room.

Stripping off his jacket, kicking off his boots, and unbuckling his pants, he fell into bed, a groan coming from his lips as he pulled Duke into his body. “For fuck sakes,” He whispered into the fur of his dog. “I should have known better.”

[betterinthedarkblog]

Diagnostic Criteria

Possible TW: Descriptions of medical trauma; sex; suicidal thoughts; graphic language (asterisked); illness

I have a headache.

Take Tylenol.

I can’t sleep.

Take Xanax.

I throw up a little every time I eat.

Take Nexium.

I have red patches all over my groin. Do I have bed bugs?

You’re allergic to Latex. Take Benadryl.

Now they’re all over my arms.

You’re not allergic to Latex. Take Benadryl.

My back is covered. So are my feet.

You’re not allergic to anything. Take Benadryl.

My lips are swollen.

Here’s an IV. Here are some steroids. Here is an antacid.

I have a cough.

Here’s cough medicine.

I keep having a cough.

Here’s a nose spray.

I am still having a cough.

Maybe it’s anxiety.

If it was anxiety it would have started long ago.

Here’s an inhaler.

Do I have asthma?

No. Does it help your cough?

Maybe. Or maybe it’s the antacid. But the cough gets less worse. I have blood in my stool.

You have hemorrhoids.

The blood’s all over my floor and walls.

You have a GI bleed. Here’s some blood. Infuse.

I’m still bleeding tar.

We’re going to put you to sleep and see what’s going on inside you.

What’s going on inside me?

Arteriovenous malformations.

Pathology differs.

Go to the Yale Clinic for Arteriovenous Malformations.

Pathology differs.

Have them call me.

Pathology does not concur.

Are you bleeding?

Pathology dissents.

Are you bleeding?

No.

It’s just hives. It’s just hemorrhoids. It’s just nodules. It’s just chronic cough. It’s just chronic idiopathic urticaria. It’s just idiopathic chronic gastrointestinal bleeding.

You know what I’m worried about?

What?

Three things. GI Bleeding. GI Bleeding. GI Bleeding.

But my face is numb.

You have no money.

But my arms are tired.

You can have no more of my money.

But my hands are trembling.

It’s just trembles.

But my nose is bleeding.

Just in the discharge.

Just in the discharge. Just in the discharge. I’m not bleeding internally. I’m not choking – am I? Am I? Am I? Am I? Am I? I have no money.

You have no money.

I have no health.

You have perfect health.

I’m coughing again.

You’re never going to bleed again.

Will I re-bleed?

Never.

I’m bleeding again. The tar.

Stop talking to me.

I’ve lost my voice.

Finally.

I’ve lost my words.

Schizophrenia.

No.

Maybe.

No.

No.

Maybe.

No.

Schizophrenia.

No.

Yes. It’s just that. It’s just negative symptoms. It’s just disordered thinking. It’s just personality issues. It’s just unhealthy mental health.

No, it’s not. I wish it were.

Then what is it?

It’s inflammation.

It’s inflammation.

Show me. See? There is no inflammation.

It’s Schizophrenia.

It’s Leaky-Gut.

It’s anxiety.

It’s stress.

It’s not a metaphor.

It’s not a metaphor. It’s mystifying. It’s enigmatic. It’s concerning.

It’s a metaphor.

It is?

It’s double-vision.

That’s seeing what’s not there. That’s a delusion.

No. It’s post-traumatic stress disorder from the I.C.U.

Stop seeking diagnosis.

No

Stop seeking diagnosis.

No

Stop seeking diagnosis.

Okay. Fine.

Better?

Yes. No. Maybe. No.

You’ve lost control.

I have been ill!

But you’re not ill now.

I’m ill now.

It’s anxiety.

Shut up.

It’s anxiety.

Shut up.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend you’re impaired.

Fine, then don’t.

You shouldn’t take any medicine. You’re hyper-sensitive.

I won’t take any medicine.

You should be in an institution.

I should be in an institution.

You should be on the street. You can’t afford an institution.

I can afford an institution.

Not any more, no institution.

My stomach’s hurting me. It’s been a year. It’s been two years. My legs are losing track of themselves. I have cuts up and down my arms from accidents. I’ve become even more clumsy.

Every mistake is an intention.

I’m intent on diagnosis.

That’s sick.

I’m sick.

You’re not sick.

I’m sick.

That’s sick.

I’m fine. Just symptomatic.

But of what?

I’m just a complainer. That’s all I am. I’m a whiner. Stop talking to me. Stop talking to me. Stop talking to me. Cancel my appointment. Cancel my appointment. Cancel my appointment. Stop taking your meds. Stop taking your meds. Stop taking your meds. I have no money. I have no money. I have no money. I need to move. I need to move. I need to move. I’m bleeding.

He says he’s dying.

I’m bleeding.

He says he isn’t bleeding.

I’m the employee of a powerful person.

Give me a piece of your small intestine.

I’m recovering.

Thank you.

I’m no longer the employee of a powerful person. I should leave New York. I should move somewhere else. I should move on from obsessing over illness. Ow. My throat hurts me. My head. I’m nauseous. I can’t sleep.

Tylenol. Klonopin.

I can’t think.

Lithium. Divalproex.

I can’t see.

Lamotrogine. Seroquel.

I can’t hear.

It’s true. You have lost your hearing.

I told you.

You’ve lost your eloquence.

I told you.

When did you lose your confidence?

When I lost my eloquence.

Were your parents like this?

Like what?

Hereditary Hemorrhagic Telangiectasia

What?

Bleeders? Depressives? Bipolars? Borderlines? Narcissists? Sociopaths? Hypochondriacs? Hysterics? Litigious? Fat? Diabetics? Ingrates? Stupid people?

No diagnosis. But everyone else in my family—

You can’t afford to have something.

No, but—

You can’t afford to have anything.

What if—

It won’t.

It does.

It didn’t.

I took a picture.

It’s not in your records.

Let me show it to you.

Doctors won’t see it.

Let me collect them for you.

You are no good for me. Leave me.

Left to my own devices I am no good for me. I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

I’m sorry.

Radio silence.

F--- you

Radio silence

F--- you

Radio silence

I’m going to kill myself

Radio silence

I’m not going to kill myself

Radio silence.

This is not what’s supposed to happen to people. I don’t need to negotiate my illness’s legitimacy. Why am I talking about this with you? I need to move on from you? Help me! What’s wrong with me?

Radio silence

I’m wrong for me

Radio silence

I’m wrong

Silence

Wrong

Silence

Which way should I go?

That’s a lot to cover

What should I do?

Come see me in six months

But I’ve been ill

With what?

Read my records

You have thick records

I haven’t had sex in a year

Secondary panic. Tertiary depression.

To what?

Inflammation

Show me

I’ll puncture you

Hurt me

On Thursday

Hurt me

On Thursday

Hurt me

On Thursday

Heal me

No findings. Nothing to—

Heal me

Nothing to heal.

You hurt me.

I’m a doctor.

It would be unethical.

It never happened.

She hit me.

You’re delusional.  I’m calling psych.

I’m not psychotic.

Okay, you’re not psychotic.

I’m psychotic.

Not really.

I’m psychotic.

Stop taking so much Adderall.

I’m psychotic.

You’re afraid you are.

Hurt me.

Just a pinch.

Hurt me.

May I open you?

Surely.

I may have to open you.

Please do.

I open you.

Heal me.

I totally did.

I’m not healed.

You just don’t realize you are.

Massage me.

Your neck has spasms.

Scope me.

You have no concerns.

Kiss me.

No. You had blood in your stool.

Touch me. 

No. You had blood in your stool.

Love me.

No. You had blood in your stool.

Hit me.

Okay.

Sit on me.

Sure.

Love me.

No. You had—

Love me.

No. You had—

Love me.

Shut up.

Make me.

Want me to?

Slap me.

Okay.

Choke me.

Okay.

Don’t kill me.

I won’t.

Don’t kill me.

You’re alive.

I survived.

You survived.

Heal me.

Heal yourself.

Help me.

You hurt me too bad.

Me Me Me Me

The truth.

I’m shaking.

You’re a mad man

I’m shaking You’re delusional

I’m shaking

You’re illogical

I’m shaking

Call the Paramedics. Wait! Your blood work is fine.

I’m sick.

Says who?

I’m sick.

With what?

I’m sick.

Show me.

I put on a show.

You put on a show. That’s malingering. That’s sick.

No. I’m sick. I’m sick. When will you heal me? I’m sick. I’m sick. When will you solve me?

You’re not that complicated.

I’ve become risk-averse.

Your brain has—

I’m shrinking. Diagnosis?

Stop asking.

Diagnosis?

Who cares.

Diagnosis?

Radio silence.

Stigma!

B.S.

Overshadowing.

You spend too much time with Google.

I care too much about myself. Diagnosis: Narcissism. Diagnosis: Borderline. Dyagnosis: Hysteric. Diagnosis:

No, I don’t think so.

Stop denying me.

Take this.

Hurt me.

Take this.

Hurt me.

Take this.

That works.

Take this.

But that worked.

It isn’t good for you. You have white blood cells in the periphery.

A finding.

False finding.

How do you know?

You’re on steroids. Spare them.

I’m shaking.

Neurosis.

I’m shaking.

Psychosis.

I’m shaking.

Shake it off.

I’m shaking. I’m shaking. I’m shaking.

Stop. Radio silence. Radio silence. Radio silence.

Dig me a hole. Give me no rope. Pretend I dug myself into it.

You dug yourself into it.

Why?

Why doesn’t matter. Don’t ask why.

How?

You’re being nostalgic.

Help me out.

You’re out.

I’m out?

You’re out.

Then why’s it so dark.

Radio silence.

Help.

Radio silence.

Help.

Radio silence.

My brother is crying.

Radio silence.

My mother is crying.

Radio silence.

This whole family is crying. This whole family is fatigued. I’m nauseous. Can I have Zofran?

Sure.

Zofran.

Don’t have it.

But they said they would call it in.

They didn’t.

You didn’t call it in.

I will.

They’re calling it in.

Got it.

Go to the hospital.

But I’m not sick.

Just to be safe.

But you said I was –

Go to the hospital –

I can’t afford it.

People live.

People live.

People live.

And then they die. I don’t want to die.

I know that. Nobody wants to die. Be original.

I want to be well.

You’re well.

I’m tired.

Go to sleep.

I’m tired.

Eat me.

I’m tired.

Drink me.

I’m tired.

You slept in.

I’m tired.

You’re fired.

I’m tired.

You slept.

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

Help.

I wear my shoes with laces untied.  But I don’t wear chap stick because I don’t mind chapping my lips. I don’t ever remember to take an umbrella with me when it’s raining outside, because I don’t check the weather, and I don’t mind getting wet. I’ve never owned rain boots or galoshes. I don’t mind getting beaten up in bed in the name of love. But I built myself an igloo when it wasn’t even winter; and that feels like a contradiction to me.