#stuck between the two forms so he’s definitely confused and can’t fully control himself

[mvnces]

here to elaborate silas being cujo-coded because both of them so heavily have the ‘I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite’ vibes going on

[hiemaldesirae]

[sees radiostatic vampire! AU] arrax, my darling, my dearest...marry me lol

ANYHOW i would kill for poor vox finding himself trapped in a Renfield-esque situation with a powerful vampire because he’s just Too Fucking Pretty — lmfao, he Would. getting sick imagining demon! Al seeing what happened to his bestie/future wife and going ballistic, spending literal centuries trying to find a way to free vox’s soul from his sire with (I can imagine) the very limited contact he can make as a demon in the human world, committing All of the atrocities and playing his cards right with the upper echelon in the hopes that he can somehow gain a corporeal form again; meanwhile, poor vox is wallowing so deeply in his religious guilt and missing his friend and What Has My Life Become that he writes off all of Al’s attempts to communicate with him from the afterlife as hallucinations/fever dreams from one too many nights at the bar. He *is* confused as to why he’s imagining his dead best friend with deer antlers and an ATROCIOUS haircut, like What was in that scotch, but those moments are the few and far between in his monotonous and miserably prolonged existence that he milks it for all he can (aka Alastor definitely stuck around into the late hours of the evening possessing any radio/mirror/hapless human bartender in vox’s vicinity so that he could listen to his love rant about his boss while shit-faced, whispering softly as to guide Vox to good potential targets)

Thing is, though: I can see Wannabe Dracula noticing Al’s presence — maybe because something something freaky demon magic stuff, maybe because he notices that hopeful sparkle and pure adoration in those lovely eyes once more — and oh, he is pissed; you see, he’s been dangling the promise of somehow allowing his familiar the chance to see his beloved once more as long as he swears his eternal servitude and devotion to him for decades now (he’s lying through his teeth and vox knows it deep down, but can’t bring himself to admit it) and that smiling fuckface is trying to intrude on HIS plans, take away HIS precious pet? so, he starts to tighten his control on Vox: running him ragged to lure and fetch him his meals, never letting him get proper rest and nutrients, and only worsening the issues by draining him of his blood until he’s tethering on the brink of death — it’s gotten so bad to the point where the very few (secret) human friends Vox has managed to make in his increasingly rare moments of freedom assume he’s an anaemic trapped in an abusive relationship and try their damnedest to get him help. The thing is: Vox can’t even bring himself to fully hate his sire or his possessive actions because if he closes his eyes and let’s his mind wander, he can pretend those cold lips against his neck as Alastor’s, that all of this is *worth it* for Alastor, and by God, does he hate himself for it...

So when that one fateful night happens, when he feels those warm arms again around his waist, protecting him from the midnight chill, and that wonderful, mellifluous voice crooning in his ear, Vox can’t help himself. Once the shock settles, he weeps and throws weak punches at the smiling face he’s been dreaming about seeing again for so, so long. Alastor sees his beloved, weak, disheveled and pale, those lovely eyes bruised and hideous bitemarks blemishing fair skin that vox has been feebly trying to hide with turtlenecks, and he sees red. Oh, how he wishes so badly to tear that wretched vampire limb from limb with his bare hands and present Vox the still-beating heart to consume on a silver platter — but he’s forced to push those lovely thoughts to the back of his mind, for another day, as, with Vox’s “schedule” and Alastor only having limited use of his physical form for now, the two of them are living on borrowed time. So he settles for pulling Vox in close once his love has had his fill of sobbing/cursing him out, gently brushing his dark curls from his eyes as he kisses the tears away, relishing in the bitter taste.

Vox lets himself be guided away to safety in the shadows of a dark alleyway — ironically, much in the same way he would lure his own prey — as Alastor trails hungry, possessive kisses down his throat, roughly pinning his wrists against the wall and tracing the letters of his name along any blue vein he comes across, slicing his own wrist to feed the poor thing before *properly* for the first time in months. His master’s furious demands reduced to nothing more than an annoying insect’s buzz in his ears, Vox throws his head back and allows himself to truly enjoy the moment as Alastor growls into the crook of his neck, sharp teeth grazing sweet skin but not biting, not *yet*.

“He wants you, the pathetic fool, he *craves* you, but he’ll NEVER have you — not when *I* saw you first, my dear...”

hey mk wanna know a fun fact. about an hour or so after you sent this in yesterday i got a followup ask from arrax about the vampire radiostatic au. geniuses truly do think alike huh love that for you guys! let me officiate the (un)holy union :thumbsup:

ANYWAY..... your mind is truly so very powerful. the idea of al trying to reach vox in any way he can, travelling through radio frequencies or hacking into on-earth radio broadcasts / possessing people around vox to talk to him so that he can reassure him and make sure hes doing alright ...... URHGH they make me SICK . al fucking HATES seeing vox broken down and chained to a master who treats him in such a way and if he had more power he'd no doubt kill vox's vampire sire, but as it is the amount of power lucifer granted to him simply wasnt enough to even assume a fully corporeal form, much less take on an ancient vampiric lord

and the scene in the alleyway URGHDHD... i absolutely cannot with them they are SO disgustingly in love. in this scenario i feel like alastor would probably end up striking a deal with charlie to help her with her hotel, so long as she helps convince her father to help out vox. does it work? probably, actually. when he finally amasses enough power to tear the old bastard apart, though, the first thing he does is give part of that demonic energy to vox and guide him to kill his sire himself

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Reunions and Revelations

On their third day at Arcadia Oaks High, Aja and Krel have their memories of the previous timeline restored. Krel is insistent upon seeing Douxie again, and Aja is a little confused. After all, even though they were friends she didn’t think they were that close.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tales of Arcadia franchise. If I did, Rise of the Titans would be extremely different.

Have I seen the movie? No, but I’ve seen spoilers, which lead to me coming up with an idea that I shared with the Klebuckets server, and @gayspiderman convinced me to write said idea.

This fic is not canon compliant in that Akiridion kissing does not lead to pregnancy any more than kissing between two humans leads to pregnancy. (And also not canon compliant in that again, I did not actually watch the movie and do not want to.) That being said, this is probably the most RotT-compliant fic I will ever write.

AO3

FFN

Mother’s three rules did not help. Being prepared for change and embracing their mistakes had only led to them being sent to Principal Levit’s office, and playing with their phones had resulted in detention. All Aja wanted to do was go home, even though she knew when she got there she’d have to deal with another lecture from Varvatos and Mother about staying inconspicuous.

Aja found her and Krel’s path blocked by three humans.

“Aja and Krel, right?” the tallest of them said. “I’m Jim, and these are Toby and Claire.” He gestured with his head to the boy and girl standing beside him as he said their names. Mother had definitely been wrong when she’d claimed that girls on this planet were invisible. “I’ve been trying to do this for a couple days.”

“And what is ‘this?’” Aja asked.

Jim pulled a small disk out of his pocket. Along the top half of the disk were the words “for the good of all”. Along the bottom half were a series of scuff marks, like words had been marred out to no longer be legible. Some parts of it looked eerily similar to Akiridion technology, and yet other parts were far too different.

“It’s a school tradition. Touch the disk, and you’ll do well on your finals and everything because you’ll have the entire school backing you up.”

Aja didn’t believe that was real, and she didn’t care about finals. But, if she complied, then Jim, Toby, and Claire would hopefully get out of her way. And so Aja looked closer.

Oh.

Oh.

Of course that was why the amulet looked almost like Akiridion technolgy, because Krel had been involved in building it. These weren’t three random humans who were taking up Aja’s time, they were her friends from the future. A future that, hopefully, wouldn’t fully come true. Hopefully she’d be able to save her Mama and Papa, and Tronos, and Buster, and Toby, who was once more alive in front of her.

“What did you do to my sister?” Krel demanded.

“Krel, just touch it,” Aja said.

“No, I don’t want to.” He lowered his voice to a hiss. “That looks like an inferior form of Akiridion technology! I think they’re disguised bounty hunters!”

Ah, so he had recognized his work on the amulet, but not that he had been the one who worked on it, and definitely not that Douxie had been helping him. Of course not. He didn’t remember. Well, that was easy enough to fix.

Aja grabbed her brother’s wrist. He fought back as she forced him to touch the amulet. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed with blue-green light.

So that was why he had been so concerned.

Krel smacked his forehead before dragging his hand down his face. The gesture looked familiar, but also like it belonged on someone else. “I was clearly wrong when I said it was inferior. But, seriously? School tradition? That was the best you could come up with?”

“Just in case it didn’t work,” Toby said.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Aja asked. “Wait, did it not work on the trolls?”

“No, it worked on them,” Claire said. “I have no idea why Douxie’s been so worried about it not working on the two of you and Varvatos.”

“Douxie’s been worried about me?” Krel smiled and looked away as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. That was... odd.

“Yeah, he even stuck around extra long passing out flyers for the Battle of the Bands on the day you guys arrived, since he knew you two’d be showing up,” Jim said. Krel smiled a little wider. “Everyone’s been trying to herd you two towards me so I could unlock your memories. If we hurry, we could go meet up with Douxie before he has to switch shifts from the bookstore to the bistro.”

“I mean, we should probably go make Varvatos remember, maybe then he won’t try and demand Eli’s thumbs anymore,” Aja said. “Plus, we might be able to fight off bounty hunters better!”

“Or,” Krel said, already walking ahead of the rest of them. “We could go find Douxie so he stops worrying. I mean, Varvatos is just waiting around the Mothership so it’s not like we’d have to worry too much about him getting into trouble. It’s not like the bounty hunters will actually show up for another week, anyways.” He stopped walking, wrapped his arms around himself, and frowned. “Um, where is it? I didn’t ever actually go there, since Bellroc burned it.”

“Come on, it’s this way,” Toby said, beginning to walk in the opposite direction that Krel had been walking in. Krel sighed, probably in relief, but why? Why was he so concerned?

They exited the school and made their way down the street.

“So, when you said everyone’s been trying to herd Krel and I towards you, does that mean the entire town remembers?” Aja asked.

“No. I can only unlock the memories of people I had a strong enough positive emotional bond with in the first timeline, and I have to be holding onto the amulet for it to work,” Jim said. “I tried unlocking Señor Uhl’s memories so he wouldn’t give Toby and I detention for skipping class for trollhunting duties, and it backfired.”

“Why isn’t he principal? Who even is Levit?” Aja stole a glance at her brother as he walked silently beside her. He looked nervous, and she wasn’t sure why.

“Well, since Strickler went to our side early in the timeline,” Toby said, “he decided not to kill the guy who was our principal at the beginning of the year. Which also means I didn’t have to worry about him flirting with my Nana.”

“Why would he flirt with your Nana?”

“Well, the only reason why Strickler flirted with Jim’s mom in the first place was because he was the trollhunter,” Toby said.

Aja’s jaw dropped. “You’re not the trollhunter anymore?”

“Of course he is,” Claire said. “It’s hunters, not hunter. But, Toby’s got the Daylight sword. Eclipse, too.”

“I guess it makes sense why you can’t command daylight anymore with the amulet Douxie and I made, since daylight would be Toby’s to command.” Krel tucked his hair behind his ear again when he said Douxie’s name. Why was he doing that? “But does it still have any other powers or is it just for unlocking memories?”

“Oh, yeah. I can still summon armor, and I’m using it to store my daggers. Though, I think the issue with daylight summoning is more the fact that the Green Knight still has Excalibur.” Jim frowned, and Claire put a hand on his shoulder.

“And none of us are going to get controlled by him. Him or his sister,” she said. Come to think of it, Claire didn’t look as sick as she had when Aja first met her during the...

“Hey, did we go through a bunch of time loops at the science fair?”

“Yep!” Toby said. “Though, like, Steve and Shannon and everyone doesn’t remember them since they didn’t have their memories protected. Just us, Blink, and my Wingman. And Vex wil, too, when he remembers.”

“Thank Deya we got Saturday detention with Shannon the first time around,” Claire said. “She’s been a major help, but I’m not sure if we ever would’ve bonded enough if not for that.”

“And we’re here,” Jim said, holding open the door to GDT Arcane Books. Aja glanced at her brother. There were tears in his eyes. But why? He hadn’t even been this emotional when he had reunited with Eli in their first timeline.

“Douxie?” Krel called out in an incredibly soft voice.

A broom clattered to the wooden ground.

Aja looked up in time to see Douxie standing on the top floor of the bookstore next to the fallen broom. He spun around and brought a hand to his mouth. He then ran and vaulted over the railing, using magic to slow his descent. At the same time, Krel ran to Douxie. They hugged tightly. Upon closer look, Douxie was crying just as much as Krel was. Aja could hear the two of them whispering to each other, but she couldn’t make out the words.

Aja knew they were friends, just like she was friends with all of the other Guardians, but she hadn’t realized they were so close. Then again, she knew that Douxie was skilled in music and wizard technology. Perhaps Krel had finally found someone who truly understood him while Aja had been ruling as queen. It was good for him to have a close friend.

Right as their hug began to grow a little long, Krel took half a step back and placed his hands on Douxie’s shoulders. Krel then used them as leverage as he pressed himself onto his toes to kiss Douxie.

What.

What?

“Uh, did they get together after I died or something?” Toby asked. Aja looked away from the kissing couple to Toby and the others. They looked just as perplexed by the situation in front of them as Aja felt.

“No, there was no time,” Jim said.

“Then,” Aja sputtered. “Then when did that happen?”

A/N: To answer Aja’s question, Douxie and Krel finally confessed their feelings to each other either shortly before or during the events of RotT. However, because everything was so tense and chaotic, they chose not to reveal the change in their relationship to any of their friends until after the titans were defeated. Instead, of course, Jim reset the timeline, so they didn’t get the chance before their dramatic romantic reunion. If the kiss described above isn’t their first kiss, then it’s probably their third kiss at most - though it’s not like they need to actually count them.

[gaystardust]

Twelve Weak Lies 1/? [Kanera Week Day 2]

Synopsis: An injury forces Hera and Kanan to land on Eso, a planet neither of them have heard of. Neither of them expect to fall undercover as a young couple expecting the first child, just because the people of the village are so convinced that’s who they are. Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Discussion of pregnancy and pregnancy loss, although neither of those actually happen. Some discussion of poverty and existence. AO3 Link: [link] A/N: There is a host of made up fruit/vegetables (or our-world food given a slightly warped version of its name), some made of Twi’leki culture. This is Chapter 1, and the rest of the chapters will go on AO3 at some point after Kanera Week because I am waaayyy behind.

 ----------------

 “What about that one?” Kanan asked, making a stab at something on the star map Hera couldn’t even see.

She leant forward, squinting at the… planet? Moon? Speck of dust caught in the projector? “I’m not sure I even know where that is.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter where it is. I’ve got a feeling.”

A feeling. It was always ‘a feeling’, a phrase Hera couldn’t parse well enough to know when it was just a hunch, or something a little more concrete.

Of course, concrete generally meant something mysterious and borderline magic that she would never be able to understand and Kanan would never explain.

Hera sighed, turning back to the ground slowly rising towards them. It was a powdery brown colour, muted across the whole of the planet bar thick splotches of green and blue in a band around the equator. A quick scan showed few life forms, unsurprising based on the size of the planet, centred around several obvious sentiments.

She’d spent a good few hours in hyperspace trying to work out what exactly this planet was and if there was any infrastructure they should be aware of. But it was still just a blank pinprick in the middle of nothingness, with absolutely no information past a name and an export listed anywhere on the holonet.

Eso. Main export, something helpfully named the Eesu fruit, and wood from something called the Uko tree.

So basically there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, Kanan wanted them to go there, so they were going.

Or maybe Hera was just tired of arguing. They’d had nothing but fights the last few days, the stress of their repeated failed missions rubbing them both the wrong way over and over.

The wound on her side still stung, and her leg wouldn’t hold her full weight unless she was leaning on something.

It had been an eventful tenday, to say the least.

The atmosphere seemed pretty good, rocking the ship a small amount as they entered. The gravity felt… fairly average, which made sense for the size of the planet.

Hera tapped the intercom button on the control panel, leaning forward. “Almost ready to land, Kanan. If you could come up, that would be great.”

It would take a little while for them to reach the ground, but having them both up front would help. There was so little they could do without the pretence of a fully functioning crew - or even a family unit, in some cases. It stopped people questioning how two people so young had ended up with a ship of their own, travelling the galaxy instead of enlisting or settling down to start a family.

There were no prizes for guessing which comment was directed at who.

By the time the landing legs of the Ghost had fully extended, Kanan was finally in the cockpit. Whatever he’d been doing in his quarters had apparently held him up, but nothing past the “sorry, I was busy” indicated what exactly that was.

A dark-skinned Kiffar waved them down, her dark hair tied up and fluttering behind her back. Hera could already see the pouch on her belt, likely heavy with credits and whatever else people were paying in.

Kanan sighed, standing without prompting. Sometimes, his Force sensitivity came in handy. “I’ll go get it.”

The minute they were securely landed and shut down, the Kiffar was stepping up to meet them. She was tall, as tall as Kanan if not more so. She looked somewhat strict, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

“Y’new here?” she asked, voice rough under her Outer Rim accent. Kanan nodded, immediately stepping up to his usual role. They’d practised this too many times to slip up. “Yes, Ma’am. Looking for somewhere safe to dock our ship, likely long term.”

“You planning to stick around?” “We hope so,” Her added, moving to stand slightly behind Kanan’s shoulder. “We could do with a fresh start.”

For a second, the Kiffar considered them. “Work?”

Kanan nodded to himself. “For me, not for her,” he shrugged towards Hera. The Kiffar gave her an odd look, analysing something between them that was a little uncomfortable. “She’s not well at the minute.”

It wasn’t a lie, and it wasn’t hard for her to see. Hera knew she was washed out, skin grey-ish as she recovered from the obnoxious injury on her side. Even when she tried to stand straight, she was hunched to one side.

Whatever the Kiffar was looking for, she clearly found. “Well, if you’re sticking around, call me Mihra. Now…” She glanced to the Ghost, the cogs ticking behind her eyes. “Y’planning to stay on the ship, or are ya looking for a house?”

They looked between each other, considering for half a second. “Yeah,” Kanan spoke up, turning back to Mihra. “Yeah, somewhere to live would be great.”

She nodded, turning to call something over her shoulder. It sounded like Huttese, but it might not be at all - definitely derivative though. One of the attendants rushed off somewhere.

“Tiss will see what she can find. Let’s get your ship settled, and then we’ll get you somewhere to stay.” She must have noticed the confusion in Hera’s face, unsure why they were willing to help. “Relax. You aren’t the first people to turn up like this, and y’won’t be the last. We’re a community of people on the run from something or other. If you’re willing to work, we’re willing to help.”

She said it with finality, as if she expected neither of them to ask any more questions.

And so they didn’t.

—

They were barely settled an hour when someone knocked on the door. The wood rattled its metal fixtures, a noise neither of them were particularly used to, before opening easily.

Hera reached for her blaster automatically, Kanan doing the same. She already had it trained on the doorway when a tall, Rodian woman stepped forward. Her eyes trained on the blasters for a moment, but she didn’t react.

Her bright, star-field eyes watched the two of them before she half turned towards the doorway. “Maar? I would stay outside a little longer, if I were you.”

Hera half-lowered the blaster, but not completely.

When the Rodian turned back, she smiled. “Apologies, I clearly should have waited. Mahra told me you were looking for work?”

Kanan stepped forward, nodding. “I am.”

She nodded. “The name’s Tsiin, I work in one of the forests just out of town - fruit picking. Not necessarily difficult, but we mainly pick for ourselves so it’s fairly rewarding.”

There was a moment of quiet while Kanan considered it. “And the pay?”

“I should have guessed,” Tsiin laughed, shaking her head. “It’s fair. Some of the payment is in food, we pick a variety so it doesn’t get too bad. Otherwise, it’s pay based on quantity. 30 credits per bag, we normally get a handful done between us a day.”

Kanan clicked his ton. “So, why do I pick that instead of the other options?”

“Three things,” she held her hand up, four fingers curled up into a fist. “Safety. Shorter hours. Less Imperial pressure.” Something about that made Tsiin look directly at Hera. “More time at home, supporting your partner here.”

“That’s four things,” Hera pointed out sharply, but Kanan half spoke over her.

“Fine. When do I start?”

“Day after tomorrow. Get yourselves settled tomorrow. I’ll come and collect you an hour after dawn, and you’ll be back before sundown.”

To Hera, they sounded long hours of physical labour, but Kanan seemed to think it was fine. “Okay. Deal. I can’t promise how long we’ll hang around, though.”

“Oh, we’re used to that.”

The new voice was deeper, raspier, strangely melodic for the near-human body it came from. Their hair was so dark, it stuck out against the almost white colour of his skin and their clouded eyes. In one hand they held a bag of interlocking ropes, metal containers swinging low.

The cane in their other hand tapped on the floor just in front of him.

They smiled vaguely into the room, mostly looking towards them but not perfectly. “Apologies for interrupting, but we are more than used to people coming and going in our community. Fast friends are common here.”

Tsiin sighed from where she should. “This is Maar. They run one of the market stalls in town.”

Kanan stayed quiet, but Hera forced herself to smile, hoping he could hear it in how she spoke. “Nice to meet you, Maar.”

“Likewise,” they replied, before holding out the rope bag towards her. It was more direct than previously, her voice helping them pinpoint a little more accurately. “I brought you some necessities to last you until at least tomorrow. Hopefully, you will find them helpful. There is not much, but I checked with some locals for what you would need to eat, Miss…”

“Hera,” she supplied quickly, hoping against all odds that this wasn’t a bad idea.

“Miss Hera. I asked what you could eat, while Kanan, I can guess myself,” they smile was a little too wide, but not threatening in its strangeness. “Hopefully you will find something to your liking.”

“There’s bedding in here as well,” Tsiin said carefully. “And spare clothes. Like I’m sure Mihra said, we are more than used to strangers arriving on our doorstep.”

Hera stepped forward again, letting Kanan take his time. Whatever he was reading into the two, it was taking all of his focus. “Thank you, honestly. It’s incredibly generous of you.” She stepped forward to take the bag, surprised by how heavy it was, and how little effort Maar had been exerting.

Tsiin looked between both of them, before nodding .”Alright, well. We’ll let you get settled. Come on, old man, I’ll walk you home.”

The near-human turned sharply, putting their arm out to take Tsiin’s. “You two had best come and visit me soon.”

Now, Kanan replied. “Of course, Sir. As soon as we can.”

“And I shall hold you to that!” Something in their tone was completely serious.

Just as they crossed the threshold, Tsiin twisted back. “Day after tomorrow, kid. Me and the crew will come and get you.”

Kanan nodded, giving her his best grin. “I’m looking forward to it.”

—

The house was small and dark, thankfully cool despite the high humidity outside. It almost reminded Hera of the buried houses on Ryloth, chasing away the burning sun and the impending dessert by blocking out the sunlight that most humanoids were desperate for.

Kanan, she knew, hated it. He’d told her often enough in the week they’d been based on Eso. Something about the lack of natural light, and the strange feeling of being half-buried in clay and hay walls.

Still, Hera had forced him to stick with it, pushing through the wobbliness in her right thigh as she ran more whitewash across the peeling wall. One of the neighbours had given it to them, with instructions to paint their new home before the peeling paint cracked through to the wall and the smell of dung crept from its prison.

She hated painting, had since she was a child, but even Hera had to admit there was something nice about painting walls. There was no precision to it, covering such a large space in a single colour, but she could still see where she’d succeeded to cover it.

It was more than a little satisfying.

The twinge in her torn rib muscle reminded her not to lift her arms too high, but there was no way she could balance on one of the stools they’d found. The wound in her leg was healing quickly, but it had been a nasty shot, with metal hooks digging into her leg before she’d had a chance to think. Even now, weeks later, it twitched and ached whenever she put weight through it.

Taking a deep breath, she hobbled over to the mats they’d been using as a bed (two of them, layered over each other for some comfort, even if it meant sleeping next to each other). The drop to the ground was further than she would have liked, her leg giving out halfway as she hit the mat with a thump.

At least, she mostly made it onto the mat - before decided that was far enough. The mats themselves weren’t thick enough to hold her at an uncomfortable angle, even half hanging off them, and moving much further would take more energy than she had. Pausing there would work which better

Hera reached for the comm tucked into the waistband of the shorts she’d claimed from Kanan (she tried not to think of them as underwear, because they weren’t - he just slept in them). They were easier to move in while she renovated the space they would be living in for the next few weeks at least.

“Kanan?” she asked carefully, listening for the telltale bzzzzz-click to say she’d connected. “Make sure to get eggs for tonight as well.”

A laugh came from the other end, covered in static but completely Kanan. “I know, Hera, I’ve already got them.”

“And the vegetables I asked you to get?”

—

Kanan stared down at the pile he was carrying. “Okuru, gulalung, solum and greens.”

“And the annuum?” Hera added, the lecture obvious in her tone.

“Of course,” he lied through his teeth, doing his best to sound exasperated. “How could I forget?”

The sigh on the other end of the line made the comm crackle unpleasantly. “Just remember to pick them up before you come home. And the persipan. Can’t make sweet curry without them.”

“I know, I know, you tell me often enough.” He absolutely did not know, they had never discussed this, but there was something about admitting that that felt like it would blow their cover. After all, the people of this community had decided they were an established couple, and he wasn’t about to make them question that.

He could hear Hera moving around on the pallet they’d been sleeping. It creaked if you moved to hard. “Can you get some alata as well? I fancy some. We can cook them with porridge in the morning.”

It had been way too long since they’d eaten fresh fruit and vegetables instead of the rations they mainly ate while travelling, and the first time they’d had a steady income in even longer. He was already heading back to the market anyway, so he might as well.

That didn’t stop him filling his voice with exasperation, the fake tone he used for chores he would do without her even asking. “Of course, your highness, I’ll get you what you want.”

A hand reached out, catching him around the back of his head. “Wha- hey!” He spun around, face to face with a fairly old Nagai, who had already caught him at their market stall that morning. “Maar?”

The comm in his hand crackled. “Kanan?” Hera’s voice was filled with concern.

Maar’s eyes were greyed over with cataracts, but they still landed on the comm. “Apologies, I have interrupted you. Continue.”

Kanan watched them carefully, not sure how to take this interruption. Still, he returned the com to in front of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Hera. It’s just a friend being a pain-” Beside him, Maar laughed as if that was the best joke they’d ever heard. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll speak to you later.”

“You’d better, Jarrus, or you’ll regret it.” The comm pinged once more as the connection was severed. Immediately, he spun to the Nagai.

“Really?”

“You shouldn’t complain about your partner, Kanan Jarrus. She is trying her hardest to keep her spirits up while shut inside.”

Of course, Maar knew nothing about why Hera was shut inside, past that she was unwell. That was a lie they kept spreading - not that it was completely a lie, just an oversimplification.

“I know, Maar,” Kanan said with a shake of his head. He knew she was struggling, but what else could they do. She could barely walk, never mind anything else. “She’s trying to keep herself busy, painting the house while I’m at work, but- OW!”

This tap on his shoulders was barely a tap. “Kanan Jarrus! You should be more careful. Your wife-”

“Partner,” he shot in quickly, trying to stop that instantly.

Maar nodded almost immediately. “Your partner is in a delicate position.”

Something clicked in Kanan’s mind, that perhaps telling everyone Hera was unwell would end badly for them both, long term. “No, no, she’s not that kind of sick. She’s just making sure to give herself plenty of time to rest.” Then he laughed, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Besides, I’m not sure I could get her to stop if I tried.”

The Nagai seemed to consider this, before nodding again. “Still. She should not exert herself, no matter how tempting.”

“Try telling that to Hera,” Kanan continued to laugh.

They arrived back at Maar’s stall, which they had left completely unguarded while they wandered off to… hopefully do something other than following Kanan, but he honestly couldn’t be so sure.

Each of the shelves and crates was practically overgrowing with local fruit and foraged roots, along with cheaply imported items. The whole place smelled like overheated sweetness, with a side of acidity.

Maar didn’t say anything as they placed food items into Kanan’s arms, and the robe bag they had given them on the first day that had arrived there.

“No, Maar, we don’t need any meiloorun you’re fine, or any eesu, I’ll be getting some from work later this week, I don’t have the money to-”

Maar shook their head. “Take them, from me to you. I have seen many like your partner here, and fresh food is always good. After all, she will need her strength, and you will need to be prepared. The next generation are always particular in their wants.”

Kanan blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Maar watched him carefully. A few skinny black braids falling in front of their eyes before they spoke again. “Apologies. I assumed you already knew - it has been the talk of the town for the last few days.”

Thoughts swirled in the back of Kanan’s head. Yeah, okay, the town wasn’t that big - maybe a few hundred people maximum, and most of them lived identical lives to all of the other’s around them, so gossip was a bit of a thing.

They were meant to be laying low.

“That… Hera is pregnant?”

Maar nodded as if that was obvious. “Of course. That is why she is in seclusion, yes? Not a practice I would use myself, but I know many species - including Twi’leks, she is a Twi’lek, yes? - use them as standard practice.”

The townspeople thought Hera was pregnant. They had taken the fake relationship between the two alongside Hera’s ‘illness’, and decided that meant they were going to be parents.

It took a few seconds, and a few deep breaths, for Kanan to pull his thoughts together. “No, no, she’s… she’s not in seclusion, Maar, she’s just more comfortable at home.” Maar gave him a look of complete disbelief, and Kanan made himself press on. “She has an injury to one of her legs that’s playing up.”

They nodded as if a grave secret had finally been explained. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be up and walking in no time. Just make sure you get her the food she has requested - the body knows what it needs better than we could ever understand.”

All Kanan could do was nod. If Maar wasn’t going to understand that Hera wasn’t pregnant, he wasn’t going to push it. Stars, he couldn’t even make himself think about it fully.

He handed over the credits to pay, Maar handing him back the chunk that would have covered the extra fruit. Kanan didn’t bother arguing, quickly taking his leave and ending their conversation abruptly. The Nagai wasn’t at all putout.

It was only when he was sure they were out of earshot that Kanan felt safe to react. “Shit.” At least Maar had covered Hera’s requests - he wouldn’t have to face anyone else that day. “Shit.”

—

“You didn’t tell him I wasn’t?”

Hera stood with her hands on her hips, poised like she was ready to fight. She had him quite literally cornered, standing in the centre of the room while he was sat on the bed.

“I told him you weren’t secluded, I just didn’t specifically say you weren’t pregnant.”

It had seemed logical at the time to let the cover the town had invented for them fly, but Hera was taking this much worse than Kanan had thought she would. He’d assumed that he would come home, explain what had been said, and they would laugh about it - but, no, Hera was taking personal offence to it.

She threw her hands in the air, lekku barely bobbing behind her. “That’s the problem! You should have just said I wasn’t, corrected him before it went any further.”

Kanan shrugged. He wanted nothing more than to pull his knees up to his chest, but he’d been trained better than that. “Does it really matter? They’ll work it out soon enough, once you’re well enough to wander around and they realise you clearly aren’t pregnant.”

“They’re just going to assume I’m not showing yet,” Hera added almost too quickly. “Or worse.” Her voice cracked as she said that. Then she shifted, dropping onto the mat beside him. Her head fell into her hands. The defeat in her voice was obvious “I don’t want to be involved with this, Kanan.”

Kanan shifted himself to put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Hera. I didn’t think about the impact this would have - to be honest, I’m not sure I even thought. I was so caught off guard, I’m not sure I was planning anything.”

Hera made herself breath, lekku still unnaturally calm. “I know.” She sighed, pushing herself further forward. “I know you didn’t mean it, I just… I don’t know how to deal with that.” There was another pause before she let out a frustrated, grumbling sound. “But I don’t know how we get out of it without sounding awful, especially with people giving us free things because they think I’m pregnant!”

He nodded, looking towards her carefully. “We could always let them have their rumour. Leave before they realise you’re not showing because you’re not actually pregnant.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Hera said quickly. “We’d be breaking their trust, making them think something about us that we’re not. It’s one thing to keep saying ‘partners’, it’s another to actually commit to that.”

“But you’re considering it.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Everything dropped away for a moment, except the bubbling of the curry over the fire. It smelt deliciously spicy and sweet, filling the room around them.

For the first time in a long time, Kanan wondered if he should meditate.

He immediately pushed that out of his brain.

Hera sat up a little straighter. “ Can humans and twi’leks even have children together?”

“I mean, yeah, of course they can?” Kanan couldn’t help the question in his voice, wanting to know how he knew that when she didn’t. “I’ve never met any properly, but I saw plenty of blended families when I was growing up.”

Her body stopped moving, even though it barely was in the first place. For a single breath, she was just looking at him, and he was looking at her, and something around them shifted.

“I’m never letting you near me again,” she said finally.

“What?” Kanan huffed, gesturing towards her where she stood in front of him. “I’ve never even been near you! At all! What- I- You-” He took a deep breath, staring towards the shuttered windows. Hopefully, no one could hear them. “Look. If it bothers you that much, I’ll start correcting people.”

Hera sighed, flopping back on the mat as if she’d given up. She tried to hold back the wince, but Kanan still noticed. He didn’t comment.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you shouldn’t. Start correcting people, I mean.” She didn’t look completely convinced, but something must have done it. “It might be easier if they think I’m staying at home because of morning sickness. We wouldn’t have to explain why it’s taking so long to recover from a minor injury.”

“Do you think we can pull it off, though? No offence, but we’ve known each other for - what, a year? Do we know each other well enough to pass for a couple who would be having a kid together?”

Hera shrugged where she lay. “I don’t think it matters, Kay. Not every couple is physically affectionate in public - some aren’t affectionate at all. Hopefully no one will notice.” Then she laughed, bright and filling the room. “Besides, we wouldn’t be fake dating, we’re just… not correcting their assumptions. It doesn’t mean we have to actually pretend we’re together.”

Kanan hummed to himself, trying to find the line in his head. It would be incredibly difficult to find the line where people would just accept their relationship, and not ask any questions.

“So we have… what? Two, two and a half months here then?”

Hera nodded. “That would be the plan. We can probably go for more if we need to, but let’s aim for that.”

Two and a half months. Just two and a half months.

He could probably manage that.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

With Time III (Tobirama x Reader)

 A/N: hi! So this is the last part. I hope ur ready bc I wasn't when i wrote it! It’s really been wonderful writing for Tobirama even though I may have made him ooc a lot of the time. Have fun with this last chapter guys and thanks so much for reading!

word count: 4775

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

I couldn't walk the same after the incident. My leg needed to be in a brace for the majority of the time, and I had to be extra careful when I moved because my ribs and lungs were still fragile. I hated it. I hated this feeling of being useless to everyone and everything that I worked so hard to protect.

I still worked with the Hokage in his office, giving him advice, listening to his plans and strategies, and signing documents with him from sunup to sundown. It wasn't enough. There were people out there risking their lives while I couldn't so much as go on morning runs anymore.

More than once, I'd cried myself to sleep. I would sit in my apartment and stare down at my leg brace, the bandages wrapped around my waist, and the crutches in the corner, and just sob until my throat stung dry. How could this happen to me?

Part of me wished I could have just died in the line of duty than live on and get sympathetic looks from people I passed in the street. I hated the way my fellow shinobi, those who I considered friends, looked down at me in a way you would a child or the elderly. I despised the shame that filled my heart.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Tobirama sighed as usual, red eyes lifting from his desk to me.

I blinked. “Sorry, Tobi. I was distracted again.” With a frustrated shake of my head, I went back to work on whatever was placed in front of me. A boring c-rank mission report that barely needed to be skimmed. Instead of going in to focus on the mundane  task of signing papers and reading poorly scrawled paragraphs, I felt a warm, calloused hand on the side of my neck. “Is something wrong?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. You’ve been different recently.”

“I haven’t noticed.”

“It’s been months, Y/N, three whole months and you haven’t been the same.”

My words got caught in the back of my throat and suddenly my secrets were coming crashing around me. As much as I wanted to tell him how I felt, how everything was hurting me and I couldn’t enjoy my life like I did, I wasn’t going to mutter a word. My breath was shallow from shame and my cheeks paled out of simple indignity. My fingers fidgeted around in my lap nervously under his accusing gaze.

It’s a bit much to call him accusing. He was more concerned than anything, worried in a way that said he stayed up long nights with this on his mind. The bags under his eyes didn’t help my own assumptions. And if he were to be losing sleep over me, I would no doubt feel worse. I didn’t need the sympathy of the man I’ve come to admire, the man who despite having been a rival as a child I now saw as an equal.

“Listen, I can’t even begin to express the guilt I feel for-”

“Don’t pity me, Tobirama.”

His eyes widened just a bit before quickly narrowing. He stared at me fiercely, and I tensed under the touch of his hand on my bare skin, heat sinking into my collar and jaw. “I have never once pitied you, Y/N. Not even when the worst has happened to you have I pitied you. I know your strength.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Like you’re plagued with guilt, and you send me these side-eyed looks of sympathy when you think I’m not looking?” I questioned.

He took a deep breath, as if he were building up his patience or courage, I couldn’t be too sure which.

“I haven’t felt right since you got hurt. I’m not too sure how to explain it, but I feel weak. I feel like an idiot for sending you away with only a child as backup. I feel so guilty for not being there to protect you from all of this, because I can see that you’re in so much pain now that you’re crippled. I just-”

“Tobirama. Please. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. And I can never forgive myself for what I let happen to you.”

“Shinobi get hurt. Shinobi die in combat every single day,” I countered. He was the Hokage, and he cared about each and every one of his people, so why did he care so much about me, doing exactly as I was paid to do. I expected pain and suffering in this line of work, we all did. It was our sick reality. We trained children barely able to control their chakra to think sacrifice was good. Self-sacrifice is for the well-being of a nation, we were taught.,

His fingers tensed against my skin at the simple words. I watched as his jaw clenched and he turned to glare into my eyes. I no longer feared the fire in those red daggers. His firm voice broke the tense silence.

“You think I don't know that? Of course I know that my shinobi are going to get hurt and die in combat, and I can't do a thing about it. I've accepted that a long time ago,” he paused, sucking air through his teeth. “But it's somehow different with you. I can't accept that you might die one day. I can't accept the fact that it's not my fault you were attacked. I can't accept that it was you.”

I searched his eyes for answers. Something that told me what he was thinking. Only I felt like I was staring into the eyes of a man I barely knew. He looked pained. He looked desperate. Unlike the Tobirama I loved.

“Tobi…”

“Y/N, you keep me from being objective.”

I was completely lost. Lost in his eyes and his words and his frown that just itched to scream out all his troubles. “I don't know what to say. I don't- I can't,” I trailed off.

Softly, I reached up to take his hand, the one pressed against my skin. Then, I dropped it down into my lap, covering his hardened knuckles with both of my palms. My fingertips danced along his skin like feathers, but it was soothing. This feeling, of his skin against mine, it brought me back down to Earth if only for now.

Quietly, I said, “I'm sorry I've distracted you from your work. It's more important, I know that. I never meant to-”

“That's the problem. I'm beginning to believe you're more important than any of this.”

“Tobirama. Please don't say those kinds of things. You know you don't mean them. I'm your assistant, not your family...not your lover.” Deep breaths.

“I know that. That's why this is such a problem. I don't understand why I'm confusing my priorities, and seeing you here doesn't help,” the man groaned, shutting his eyes and grimacing. His hand squeezing mine.

“I'm sorry if my presence hurts you, Hokage-sama.”

“You know I didn't mean it in that way, Hatake.”

“I know. I just think you need to work out whatever is on your mind. You can't be stuck in the middle like this. It's only holding you back,” I said firmly, catching his gaze. “Just remember, your destiny lies with this village. You will have a great legacy, Tobi, but you have to be careful.”

But Hashirama would have said something else. Anyone who knew the pair well enough could have seen it. Tobirama's destiny was not with the village, it was something much less abstract, less broad and disconnected. Konoha was his eldest brother's child, Hashirama's destiny, and eventually his fate.

As much as I tried to avoid it, the inevitable crushing defeat of it all, Tobirama was the one I'd become completely entranced by. I needed him as much as I needed water and air. He was my destiny.

And I could only pray he could find it in himself to forget about me, this strange relationship we had between friends and lovers. It was dangerous, and I hoped he would make the right choice.

__________________

Tobirama chose his destiny, the one I wished against.

He couldn't keep himself from doing otherwise. He could have done what he thought was wise. What was best for the entire village, but he didn't. He must not have been thinking when he marched up the stairs of my apartment building in the middle of the night.

I lay in my bed, a book in my hand and a cup of long gone cold tea on my bedside table. The room was silent save for the loud gushes of wind to slam against the windows every few minutes or so. I stopped crying before I slept about a month before, and instead took to staring at the ceiling or rereading the pages of a novel mindlessly for hours. What else was there to do when sleep wasn't an option?

But a knock on my door was definitely unexpected. It had to have been around midnight or so when I heard that distinct series of four rapping knuckles against wood.

I stood, brushing down my old t-shirt, ignoring the way my hair stuck up in all random directions. When I opened the door, I was met with a fully dressed, fully awake Tobirama. He was much taller than me, especially when I slouched like this. I straightened up a bit and ran a quick hand through my hair to brush it out of my face and behind my ear.

“Tobi, is there something you needed that couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow?” I asked, and the irritation was clear in my tone. I rested on hand on the doorknob while the other pressed into my hip, waiting impatiently for a response. I cared for the man dearly, but I wasn’t one to enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night for something insignificant.

“I could have waited until the morning if not for this terrible pain in my chest.”

“Are you okay?” My eyes searched his form for any sign of injury, but saw nothing. He didn’t look like he was in any pain, nor did he stand any different than usual. I reached out carefully and took his wrist in my small hand, pulling him into the apartment. I hoped to God that no one was watching the Hokage sneak into some woman’s apartment in the middle of the night. The scandals that would arise…

He sighed, shutting the door softly behind him, the click of the lock bringing me comfort. We were alone. I don’t know why, but that thought brought me peace and anxiety all bundled into one ridiculous package. I wanted to spend time with him, but not like this. It felt awkward, to put it simply.

I motioned for him to take a seat on the edge of my little bed, one of the few pieces of furniture I actually owned. As he scanned over the room and the walls, his brows furrowed into a knot. “After all this time, you still haven’t bought furniture?”

“I never thought it was important. Plus, I don’t get paid enough to afford those things.”

He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, “That’s absurd. If you needed more money, you could have simply asked me for a raise-”

“Tobirama, what are you here for really? You’ve somehow changed the subject,” I said plainly, looking down at his moonlit features in the darkness of my one room apartment. The only light was what came from between the drapes in my window, yet the moon was particularly bright tonight. I could see every detail of his strongly built face, structured jaw and stern irises.

He looked up at me for a second before turning his head down once again. This man was never one to back down from a fight, but today he seemed nervous. He seemed fragile in the way he averted his gaze and sat with his shoulders slumped forward unlike their straightly broad sort of way. Tobirama seemed distressed and worried; if only he would speak so that I could help him.

Still, I continued when he said nothing. “You said that you have a terrible pain in your chest? I asked if you were alright, and I’m not sure I fully believe you.”

“I can’t hide much from you, Y/N. I fear you know me too well.” He glanced up at me with a new goal in his eyes. I couldn’t understand what it meant, that gleam that suddenly appeared, but I knew it was far too important to interrupt. “We need to discuss what’s going on between us.”

And it was as if time has stopped. The fear that remained dormant in my chest was now pumping viciously through my veins. I felt my cheeks pale, running cold in a moment, and my hands start to clam up.

What was I supposed to say? How do you reply when someone wants to have a talk about your nonexistent intimate relations? My mind ran circles around all the excuses and pleas that I could use.

I whispered, broken at the edges, “I wasn’t aware there was anything between us.” Lies, of course. We both knew it.

“You’ve known for as long as I have-longer than that, I’m sure. You’re not an idiot, Y/N.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said, just as soft as before.

He leaned back, letting out a low exhale. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, as if he were raking through his mind for the right thing to say. He probably was. The Hokage never knew what to say in these sorts of situations. He was socially awkward, so oblivious at times that it hurt.

“I’m not sure what to say either. Just something. Anything to make this pain stop. It’s keeping me from my work, and it’s making me dependent on you.”

“You’re always thinking about me?”

“Yes, and it’s a problem.”

“I’m not sure what I could do to ease your troubles. I could never speak to you again, and you would be forced to forget me,” I suggested, although I would never do anything of the sort. It would leave me even more pathetic and incapacitated than I am now. I peered down at him, my eyes glimmering with the beginnings of tears, happy or sad, I wasn’t sure.. “But I’m not sure I could live like that for long, Tobirama.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to do that. I need you by my side. Haven’t I expressed that before?” So difficult, this stupid man. He wasn’t making any of this easier on me. “I don’t even know why I came here, especially at this time of night. I’m a fool for thinking this was something I could do.”

So fucking defeated. That’s the only way I can describe the sound of his voice as his coarse, frustrated words dripped from his lips out into the open. I took a deep breath, gulping down the terror I felt. I prayed he couldn’t see how terrified I was because I’m sure I looked pathetic. Nothing like a brave kunoichi, a veteran to the cause.

“Want me to tell you I love you?” I muttered in a voice so quiet I could have mistaken it for just another thought. And then, I held my breath.

He didn’t reply right away. He was silent, contemplative really. And I was at his mercy.

“Y/N, I-”

“It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything. Just know that I will always, unconditionally feel that way for you,” I confessed, suddenly not feeling as terrible. I knew he couldn’t just say something like that back. He wasn’t the type of man to just blurt out those intimate details on a whim. “You’ve been my best friend since you gave me those shuriken as a teenager, and I hope nothing brings us apart.”

“I hope for all the same things. I will protect you, if it’s the last thing that I do.”

“Tobirama…”

He tore down my soft voice with his own firm one. He glared up at me, snatching up my hands in his rough ones. He held them tightly to his chest, bringing the two of us only inches apart. “No, Y/N. No. Family is more important than anything, and after losing Hashirama- I don’t think I could handle life without you, too.”

He was so genuine in his words, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. Instead, I brought myself into his lap, climbing over top of him so my knees were on either side of his thighs. I kept our hands tightly clasped to my chest, but now I could feel the rise and fall of his breathing against me. I could see the specks of brown and gold in his crimson eyes. I could feel wisps of his white hair along my cheeks and forehead.

I pressed my face into his neck and sighed. This was as domestic as life would ever get, and it was the least I could do but to savour it with every one of my senses. To smell the musk on his skin, feel the warmth of his soul beneath me, listen to his harsh breaths. I absorbed every bit of this moment.

He released my hands so he could wrap his thick arms around my waist, tugging me to his abdomen. His nose found itself buried deep into my hair, soft sniffs taking in the scent of my shampoo. He always said I smelled like coconuts.

“Thank you.”

_____________________________

The day was long and terribly worrisome. Although I had busied myself with many tasks, nothing could stop the random tugs at my heart every time my mind shifted to my best friend who doubled as my strangely acquainted lover. I had waited for hours, on the couch at Tobirama’s house just for him to arrive home. I wanted to surprise him with a nice dinner and a few drinks of sake after completing the latest mission, one that seemed much harder than the last few. It was against the Kumogakure, who Konoha had been on the rocks with recently.

When one of Tobirama’s students, Uchiha Kagami stood in the doorway instead, I knew something terrible had happened. His deep black eyes stared over my shoulder so grimly, unable to meet my eyes. He was ashamed. I could feel it radiating from his form. I could feel many things from people, but this boy screamed pain, sorrow, and shame.

“What’s happened, Kagami-san?” I asked him calmly, even though I felt my stomach doing somersaults. “Where is Tobirama?”

“We were surrounded by Kinkaku’s Squad, and they had the upper hand. Lord Second, he…”

“Well?”

“I’m so sorry, Hatake-san,” he croaked, his voice finally cracking under the pressure. He looked into my eyes, the tears now rising up in the corners, sparkling in the candlelight illuminating the room. I shifted on my crutch, staring up at him with desperation in my eyes. I wanted him to say something else, anything other than the obvious. “He volunteered to act as a decoy so we could escape. I’m so sorry.”

My lips started to quiver. I couldn't come up with anything to really say. I could only muster out a pathetically miserable, “please no.” My knees suddenly felt very weak beneath me, and I was only really being held up by my crutch. My fingers tightly wrapped around the handle and squeezed so tightly it stung, and could have bruised.

But nothing mattered.

The tears that threatened to fall pooled up heavily in my eyes, and I hissed when the salty bits stung. “No. No. Please, God, no. Please don't.”

I pleaded and begged, my hand pressed to my mouth to muffle the cries. It was becoming harder and harder to breath. My head spun, dizzy and disoriented.

It felt like my entire life had been torn down in a single second. Every single thing I had ever built up was suddenly being crushed into the ground into thousands of irreparable pieces.

Tears streamed down my face thickly, hot and steady without signs of stopping. I didn’t know when I could stop crying. Nothing could have prepared me for the death of someone I loved more than life itself. Tobirama was the only person I had left in this damn world, and now I was alone. I was completely and utterly lost in this cruel world, crippled and sick and tired and heartbroken beyond fixing.

Kagami took a step forward and extended his arms, as if I needed to hug him. The only person I wanted to hold in my arms was Tobirama, and he was the one causing all this pain. It’s disturbing how misery works out that way. I shoved the boy back with all the strength my weak, broken soul could muster. He stumbled away from the threshold just enough for me to slam the door in his face.

Maybe that was rude and harsh and terribly uncalled for, but this death; fate didn’t need to torture me this way. To steal the one thing I held precious. Fate stole my legs from me, stole my mobility, stole my livelihood...and now it had forcibly taken the love of my life from my hands. The last thing that brought me any happiness.

I broke down on the floor right in front of the door, sliding down the wood frame and collapsing in a heap of shakes and quivers. I bent down so close that my forehead pressed to the hardwood, tears and slobber pooling on the ground beneath me. I grabbed at my hair and yanked it, trying to feel something other than this shockwave to my heart.

But nothing was going to help. The only thing I could do for now was scream and cry until I fell asleep, and even then, my dreams were not empty. They were plagued with him. Images of him constantly swirled in my mind. I woke up in cold sweats screaming or sobbing.

And I wasn’t the only one hurt by this. My ninkin couldn’t stand to see me this way. They knew me as a strong woman, one who could face death without flinching. Now, I was just a broken shell of the woman I used to be. I lost my father and mother, my brother Hashirama, and my best friend. It was only now that I was completely hollow to the core.

_________________________

“Hiruzen, did you get the final exam paperwork I dropped off earlier?” I asked, peeking my head into the Hokage's office where he sat over a stack of stark white papers. The man, one in which I watched grow into the great leader he was today, smiled and waved me into the room.

He peered over the sheet in his hand and hummed. “Impressive test results, Y/N. I have to say, you might be the most effective teacher at the academy.”

I nodded proudly, leaning on the wall to keep myself steady. I still had trouble keeping myself balanced at times, and I had pains shoot up my thighs randomly at times from the lasting impact the jinjuriki had on my muscles, but I no longer needed the crutch.

After Tobirama died, I left my position as Hokage's advisor. Instead I went to work at the academy where Tobirama dedicated much of his time and effort into creating. I didn't have to fight nor did I have to move around much on my feet. It was only simple stationary jutsu and chakra control, which I was still exceptional at.

Hiruzen was more than happy to have me help around. He was just glad I wasn't torn to shreds to the point where I could do nothing but stay inside.

“Thank you. That means a lot, really.”

“You're looking well? Is the medicine Tsunade made for you helping?”

“Yes! I swear that girl is miracle worker,” I laughed. The blond who grew up to be one of the most outstanding medical nin alive, produced a pain killer for me and it worked better than I'd ever dreamed. “I'm glad she picked up the medical practice. We really needed a good doctor in this village.”

“I heard you once tried to train with her?”

“Yeah. I figured it would be good to acquire another skill I could use without my full mobility. Turns out being a med nin is way harder than I thought,” I told him. “Props to Tsunade and the other nurses, honestly.”

Just as Hiruzen was about to say something else, the door behind me slid open and hurried little footsteps rushed into the room.

“Mom?” The soft, boyish voice rang out. “Kagami told me you were in here.”

I turned around, peering over at my 12 year old son, standing in the doorway shyly. He was a sweet boy, one of the kindest I'd ever met. It was the way I raised him, I suppose, and that made me proud.

He had dark eyes and gray hair that spiked in all directions. It was the natural way of the Hatake clan. He was tall, almost as tall as me even though he was just a child. He stood tall and proud, ready to impress. My son was a talented ninja, gifted even.

I worried he picked up some of my clumsiness or even my mediocre abilities, but it was quite the opposite. He was stunning much like his father. He moved with grace yet so much strength. He was reserved, but when he spoke it was never foolish.

“Sakumo, sweetheart, did you need something?”

“Yeah, actually. I wanted to know if I could go to dinner with Rei and Shikari?” He asked. I only nodded, rolling my eyes. He loved to spend his time with his friends, particularly a Nara and an Uchiha.

“Be back home before eleven, okay?”

He smiled triumphantly, even though I rarely told him no. He was such a good kid, I normally trusted him “Of course, Mom. Thanks.” My sweet boy ran from the room, waving to us on the way out.

I turned back to the Hokage sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“It's fine, Y/N. I actually enjoy seeing the child. It's like Lord Second is still with us in him.”

“Yeah. You're telling me.”

“He would have made a good father, I think.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes to the ground. I felt a pang in my chest. Yeah, I would have loved if Tobirama lived long enough to help me raise our son, to teach him all his talents and pass down the title of Hokage even.

“I think he would have been a disastrous father. Loving, yes, but he would have been so confused and lost. He never knew what to do with children.”

“Yes, but a father has a special connection with his own son, his own blood.”

“One day I know they will meet. And Tobi will be so proud of him.”

“I think he'll be proud of you the most, Y/N.” I hated when people told me stuff like that. When they mentioned how Tobirama and I used to be. When they made me fall in love with him all over again. I hated missing him every time they spoke in his memory.

I blinked back tears in my eyes and averted my gaze to the door. “That's more than enough, Hiruzen. Maybe we can talk about this some other time. Just not right now, yeah?”

“Of course. I hope you have a great rest of your day,” he nodded, wishing me the best of luck as I exited his classroom. And as I walked the empty hall, I swallowed my sorrow.

With time, I would see him again. The wait would always be worth it, as long as he remained in my heart. That's because Tobirama would always be unique. He was my first love and my last.

And that's the end! Did you like this kind of writing or hate it? Give me some feedback if you want and have a really nice day!

[shawnymendesismybf]

Playing Basketball with Shawn

Please let me know what you think! I work hard on my writing :)

“I don’t wanna” you groan out in an annoyed tone as Shawn held open the car door for you. You were parked in front of his regular gym, it was 11:00 pm and your boyfriend had dragged your unwilling ass to the gym to kill some time playing basketball.

He had come back from tour a week ago, his sleeping pattern was all messed up from the constant traveling. He slept all day and now he was full of energy practically bouncing off the walls like a little kid on a sugar high and he needed some sort of way to get rid of all this energy.

“But babe, I get bored by myself and it’s a little late to call any of the guys” he says in a pleading tone.

“Can’t you figure out something else to do to tire yourself out? Who comes to the gym at this hour…” you say in an annoyed tone.

You notice a boyish smirk forming on his lips as he placed a hand on the hood of the car leaning closer to you, his tall frame towering over you.

“I can think of another way to get all this energy out. But I think I tired you out last night doll”

You can feel the heat on your cheeks rising as you push against his chest.

“Shut up” you mutter out in an embarrassed tone, feeling a small tingle between your legs when you think back to the events of last night.

“I mean, if you think you’re up for another round, than by all means let me take you home right now” he whispers out as if there was anyone around to hear the two of you. You were the only car parked in the parking lot other than a black Volvo parked at the far end of the lot.

You notice his eyes travel to the small group of hickies scattered across your neck and upper chest as he bites his lips. Before he gets any other ideas you push against his chest making him stumble backwards as you get out of the car slamming the door shut, a little annoyed with the way he was playing with you.

He fucking knew you couldn’t handle another round of what happened last night. Your entire body was still sore from it and he was walking around like you guys didn’t fuck each other over and over again the night before. You were surprised at how he was still full of so much energy.

“Fine. But I’m going to be complaining the entire time” you say with a pointed finger.

He nods his head happily, grabbing the hand that was pointing at him as he intertwined our fingers together walking towards the gym, making sure to lock the car behind you guys.

The sneakers on your feet squeaked against the marble floor of the gyms entrance as you dragged your feet following Shawn through the gym doors. He scans his membership card giving the guy at the front a quick hello.

You thought about making a run for the car and just leaving Shawn behind but he had a pretty good grip on your hand, fingers tangled in yours refusing to let you go as he walked towards the basketball court the gym had. Plus you would feel bad abandoning him.

He pulled open the doors to the basketball court and thankfully there was no one in there. Then again, what sane person other than your boyfriend would come to play basketball at literally midnight?

Shawn let go of your hand going to the basketball rack placed against one of the corners of the big court. He easily grabbed one of the balls in his giant hands turning towards you with a smirk.

“Hey babe think fast!” he says tossing the ball towards you.

You being tired and sluggish can barely register what he is doing as you feel the ball hit your bare shoulder making you let out a groan in pain

“Shaw what the fuck?!” you yelp out glaring toward him as you rub your sore shoulder

He had grimacing look on his face as he ran towards you

“Sorry babe, I forgot you basically have no hand eye coordination” he says with a chuckle kissing your now red shoulder.

“Fuck off” you murmur out as you dragged yourself to sit on the cold hardwood floor and leaning against the cold concrete wall.

Shawn doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to push your buttons any further, also he did enjoy riling you up.

He grabbed the basketball that had bounced off your shoulder and had ended up on the other side of the court.

You crossed your legs, tugging them closer to yourself the soft cotton shorts you were wearing rising up higher on your legs. You watched Shawn run around the empty court shooting hoops by himself.

His brows were scrunched together in concentration the ball bouncing against the floor at this side his eyes going between the orange ball and he tall basketball net he was getting closer to. It was kind of nice watching him hold onto the ball with just one hand, lifting himself off the floor so effortlessly like he didn’t weigh anything.

You almost missed the proud little smile that formed on his face when he managed to pass the ball through the hoop effortlessly.

You were no longer focused on him actually playing basketball but more so on his toned body running around. Your eyes were fixated on his perfectly shaped ass, watching him run to make another basket made you wish his shorts were a little tighter.

If you were going to be stuck here watching him play, than you were at least going to enjoy it.

Was it weird to be turned on by a guy’s calves? You never realized how toned they were.

Your gaze traveled up his thighs, seeing the way the muscles on his thighs jerked when he landed against the hard floor after making another basket.

Your cheeks once again burning as you remembered how Shawn had held you down on against his thigh last night, your hips moving against him with one of his hands lost in your panties as he helped you come undone against his muscular thigh.

You notice Shawn smiling at you through your dazed state, and you give him a quick smile hoping he didn’t notice the way you were basically ogling his legs.

You hear yourself letting out a little gasp when he jumps up and you catch a glimpse at his perfectly toned stomach. All the time he spends at the gym was definitely paying off, in more ways than one.

Not only was his body looking good but his stamina increased immensely as well. And that’s something he used to his advantage in all aspects of his life. But especially in bed with you and during the long concerts he would perform to his fans.

Shawn was clueless to your long stares and the way you pushed your legs closer to each other to stop the aching feeling in between your thighs.

He held the ball against his body grabbing the edge of his shirt and lifting it up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. You almost let out a loud groan seeing his lower abs littered with dark purple hickies leading towards his v-line and disappearing off inside his boxers.

A proud smirk falls on your lips remembering the way he was whimpering under your lips last night, you had never seen him so helpless before. He was always the dominant one in bed, it was nice to know he had a weak side, a side that was at your mercy, obeying to all your commands.

“Whatcha thinking about honey?” Shawn questions making you jump in surprise.

“Hmm?” you question your gaze finding his face, and you knew you were caught you notice the

lopsided smirk on his lips.

“Thinking about last night?” he knew you were staring at the marks on his stomach.

“So what if I was?” you say in a cool tone trying to play it off

“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” the smirk on his lips widens as he advances towards you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face Mendes” you say as uncross your legs standing up before he gets any closer.

You make a move to grab the ball from him and he easily pulls it away from you.

“I thought you were too tired?” he asks in a teasing tone

“Well, someone’s gotta teach you how to properly play. You suck” you say with a scoff. You knew you were talking b.s and so did he but he was amused with the way you were challenging him.

“This is coming from the girl who couldn’t even catch the ball I passed” he says with a chuckle

“That wasn’t a pass! You basically just threw it at me!”

“Sure, blame me. And not your clumsy ass” the last part he mutters out but you hear it anyway.

You purse your lips in annoyance pushing against his chest and he doesn’t even budge from his place watching you with a grin.

“Tell you what sweetheart. Let’s play a round” he says and he knows he has your attention when you lift up your brows in question

“Who ever gets to 20 points first wins”

“Wins what?”

“What do you want?” Shawn questions eyes searching yours

“I want full control” you say your voice full of confidence. He seems a little confused at first but you see him put the words together in his head knowing exactly what you were asking for.

“Oh?” he says looking down at you, a knowing grin on his lips.

“You let me do whatever I want to you. Full control. No complaining, no trying to over power me. Whatever I want” your breathing has picked up at this point already thinking about all the things you wanted to do the man in front of you.

“Alright” he says nodding his head sure of himself. You’re surprised to see him agree so easily. He wasn’t one to give up control in the bedroom so easily.

“But” he says making you frown, you knew there was a but coming at some point. It seemed too easy.

“If I win…” his free hand wraps around your waist suddenly pushing your body flush against his your hand going to his chest.

“I want the same thing. Full control. You gotta trust me fully..” his voice comes out all husky and deep and you know he is doing that on purpose to tease you even more.

“Alright” you say in a shaky voice boosting his confidence.

“The things I want to do to you doll..” there is desperation behind his voice, after everything that happened last night he still wanted more. So did you, but you were still sore from all of it and you needed at least 2 days to recover from that. But Shawn wasn’t the same, he would take you right there on the floor if you offered it to him.

“Last night wasn’t enough?” you ask a soft giggle leaving your lips your hands traveling down his chest getting closer to the basketball shorts he is wearing.

“Last night was nothing compared to all the things I want to do to you once I win this game sweetheart”

His confidence is a huge turn on for you but your not giving up that easily.

“We’ll see sweetheart” you cup his cock in your hands making him let out surprised groan his held tilting back.

“You really shouldn’t be starting something right now [Y/N]” his voice comes out in a pant as you pull your hand back giving him an innocent smile tongue poking out at him.

“Put that tongue back in. You don’t wanna know the things I want to do to you seeing that sweet little thing poking out in between your lips” he has a bit of a hard time form words, the blood that’s rushed to his groin making it hard to focus.

You actually feel yourself blushing at his words. Not wanting to push him any further you pull your tongue back in.

“Good girl” he says giving your but a little pinch making you squeal in surprise. And just like that he runs off with the ball turning around to give you a quick wink before his body is up in the air making his first basket.

[brvndneweyes]

Anonymous said: That smut you wrote was smooth af🎶 could you write a scenario where penny sees the human naked for the first time and it arouses him, and he doesn’t understand why? 😂

Thank you 😭💛 idk if you wanted smut included, but it’s here! Introducing a very seductive, slightly dominant reader. Also anyone pls tell me if there are typos in here because I’m lazy as fuck and don’t feel like rereading this

~

You were humming quietly to yourself, searching through your dresser for a pair of pajamas. Frowning, you realized you didn’t have a clean pair and bit down on your bottom lip.

“I need to do laundry,” you muttered.

A familiar jingle could be heard behind you, and you were normally used to Pennywise appearing randomly, but not when you were fresh out of the shower and fully nude.

Your eyes widened and you turned around, holding a hand over your groin while the other covered your chest. You noticed the clown’s reaction, and it brought an idea to your mind.

His eyes glowed bright yellow, his claws extended and ripped through his white gloves, and there was a tent in the front of his pants. Slowly, you dropped your arms to your sides and stepped closer towards him.

“What’s this? Why am I feeling this way?” he asked quietly, pressing a hand down onto his crotch.

When he did so, he let out a low growl of pleasure and the sound made you feel turned on. Grabbing onto his upper arm, you brought him over towards your bed then made him sit down.

“Do you know what sex is like, Penny?” you wondered as you straddled his thighs, gazing down at him.

Shaking his head, he looked into your eyes as a confused expression appeared on his face. Experimentally, you pushed your hips down and felt his clothed cock press against your groin, making you moan softly. He grabbed your hips, still not understanding what was happening with his body, but he was pretty sure on knowing what he wanted.

“I can make you feel really good,” you purred as you held onto his shoulders, continuing to rub yourself against him.

Pennywise closed his eyes, his nails digging into your flesh a little as a new scent radiated from you. Leaning down, he stuck his nose in the crook of your neck before he inhaled deeply, making his cock twitch with arousal.

Grabbing onto his face, you leaned closer to him before you connected your lips together, shutting your eyes as you did so. The clown had been a friend of yours for a few months now, and you had definitely been crushing on him since the two of you met. And you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about a scenario like this.

“I can’t believe I made you hard,” you muttered against his lips before you moved back slightly, feeling his hands sliding down to grab your thighs.

The clown began pushing up against you, needing something more although he was clueless to know what it was that he needed.

“I’ll explain what everything is after, but I really need to fuck you,” you murmured and brought a hand down, beginning to palm him through his pants. “You’re really big, baby.”

“Fuck, I like when you do that,” he growled, his eyes suddenly flashing red as he gripped onto you tighter.

“Are you okay with this? With me touching you?” you wondered before you slid down onto the floor between his parted legs, your hands resting on his thighs.

He glared at you slightly, fisting a hand into your hair. “Of course, now keep fucking doing it.”

His sudden dominant tone made you bite your lip, looking up at him as you freed his erection from his pants. Wrapping a hand around his cock, you smirked from his reaction. The clown tugged your hair as he began feeling very impatient, although he was unaware of what was to come.

You stroked him a few times before you leaned down, running your tongue along the underside of his cock. This had him growling again, his eyes closing from the pleasure you were giving him. You loved how he was getting so worked up from the smallest touches, and couldn’t wait to take this further.

Wrapping your lips around the head of his dick, you slowly pushed your head down and took as much of him into your mouth as you could. Pennywise began to drool, his saliva dripping down onto his costume.

Involuntarily, his hips bucked up and pushed his length against the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. Breathing through your nose, you closed your eyes as you began to bob your head slowly.

“Good… that’s so good,” he mumbled.

The sensation was completely new to him. He never touched himself like this, and having someone else do it for him for the first time felt amazing.

However, you didn’t want him releasing too soon, since you figured he would probably only be able to cum once for his first time. You sucked around his cock for a little longer until you took him out of your mouth, gazing up at the clown and noticed his eyes were glowing yellow again.

“Want to feel something even better than that?” you asked, smirking when he nodded his head quickly.

Pushing him down onto his back, you moved up and straddled his hips. Your wet cunt rubbed against his erection before you took him into your hand again, guiding his cock inside of you.

His mouth dropped a little as his rows of teeth came into view, knowing they usually only did so when he was hungry.

“Are you okay?” you questioned while you looked into his eyes, slowly pushing your hips down to take his full length inside of you.

Pennywise nodded again, blinking a few times. He was like no one you’d ever been with, even though you weren’t that experienced. Somehow, he was the perfect size and felt incredible.

Glancing down, you noticed the look of awe on the clown’s face and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself. You were the first and only one to be doing this with him, showing him what pleasure was really like. You had the control here.

As you placed your hands on his chest, you began moving quickly, bouncing up and down on his cock. Pennywise held onto your hips tightly, watching you with lustful eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned loudly, feeling his erection hitting your g-spot roughly each time you pushed your hips down against him.

The clown gazed down at your body, desiring to see marks on your flesh caused from himself. You were his now, even though he always thought you were. You were the only human that he ever adored.

He suddenly had the urge to bite and also wanted to feel the sensation on his dick to go faster. When you tightened around him, he groaned in pleasure and bucked up against you.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good,” you murmured as you gazed down at him, digging your nails into his chest before you began moving faster.

Pennywise growled again, shutting his eyes and leaned his head back. It wasn’t long before you released around him, your walls contracting around his dick. After a moment of you doing so, he sat up and grabbed onto your thighs tightly, beginning to fuck up against you roughly.

Your hands gripped onto his hair, crying out in pleasure as you pushed your hips down to meet his thrusts. After a moment, you noticed a crease forming on his forehead and his sharp teeth sticking out again.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” he mumbled, his arms circling around your waist and holding you as close as possible.

Pennywise let out a string of curses and growled lowly as he released inside of you, and the feeling of his cock twitching triggered another orgasm from you. After you caught your breath, you placed your hands on the sides of his face and leaned down, connecting your lips together.

Moving off his dick, you laid down beside him and stared up at the ceiling with a wide grin on your face.

“Whatever all of that was, I want to do it again. I want to do that a lot more often. I wish you didn’t stop,” he admitted as he glanced down, noticing his cock softening.

His words made you giggle, turning onto your side to face him. “I would’ve kept going, but you probably have a way higher stamina than me. I get tired from sex a lot quicker than you.”

“So, what was all of that? We should have done that sooner, y/n.”

Blushing lightly, you smiled as you looked into the clown’s eyes and rested a hand against his chest. “That was sex, baby. It’s very pleasurable and it feels amazing.”

“So, what was that stuff that came out of me? And how were you so wet and warm and amazing down there?” Pennywise questioned, bringing one of his hands down to trail it over your sensitive entrance.

Moaning quietly, you parted your legs a little and felt your face flush when he pressed against your clit. “Ah, that was your cum. It happens when you have an orgasm, which pretty much is when you’re feeling so good that you…”

You trailed off when his fingers slipped inside of you, glad his claws were gone. The clown noticed the blissful expression on your face and smirked, wanting to make you feel good.

“I-it’s like reaching a high point, I guess,” you stuttered out, your hands grabbing onto the fluffy collar of his costume. “And I also had an orgasm, two actually, which is why I’m so wet.”

He moved to kneel between your thighs, his fingers rubbing against your walls. “Tell me what to do. I want to make you feel good, baby.”

“Penny, I just came twice in a row. I’m very sensitive right now. Sometimes when you cum too much, it starts to hurt. We’ll have plenty of time to do this again, I want to take a nap,” you said as you looked into his eyes, noticing that he was beginning to frown.

Taking a hold of his wrist, you pulled his fingers out of you then pressed your lips to his softly.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. You made me feel amazing, better than anyone I’ve ever been with,” you murmured, your words making the clown smile and wrap his arms around your waist. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“We better do that again when you wake up.”

[moonprincess92]

It’s a reflex

Jyn Erso accidentally kisses Cassian Andor goodbye.

She definitely doesn’t freak out about it.

(Read on AO3)

When Jyn woke, she was alone.

It didn’t worry her. A chronic morning person, Cassian was always up at the crack of dawn, pottering around his flat making coffee or reading the newspaper or whatever the hell it was that ‘cultured’ people like him did in the mornings. Jyn, on the other hand, routinely stayed up until 3am watching vine compilation videos on YouTube and therefore did not emerge from bed until late morning if it was an option. She yawned, rolling over to see his empty side of the bed and the partially open bedroom door beyond. She could hear him humming, banging around somewhere in the kitchen and she let a hand stretch out under the sheets. It was always cold without him. She sighed, moving to drag herself out of bed.

You know, in any other situation, this might have been sweet and domestic.

She found him at the kitchen table, munching on toast and scrolling through the news on his phone. Shirtless and hair in a scruffy disarray, Jyn sometimes wondered how she’d gotten herself to this point … maybe she shouldn’t have had that third tequila shot all those months ago. If she hadn’t, then she never would have gotten up the nerve to go talk to the hot guy who’d been eyeing her up across the bar. If she hadn’t, they never would have kissed over a bowl of peanuts with some ridiculous pop song in the background. If she hadn’t, she never would have gone home with him … time after time after time.

“Six months in and you still can’t do the decent thing of waking me up at a reasonable hour.” 

“I’ve tried dragging you out of bed before,” he threw back across the room without looking up. “Never works.”

Her hands fidgeted a little, suppressing a smile. Then, she moved to perch on the edge of the table next to him, bending down and stealing a bite of his toast just as he’d been about to put it in his own mouth.

He sighed as she chewed triumphantly. Wordlessly, he handed what was left over to her and she took it gratefully.

“Besides, I know that you’ll always leave eventually,” Cassian pointed out, going back to his phone only a little exasperated. “I don’t exactly feed you well.”

“This toast is divine.”

“Oh yes,” Cassian snorted. “my cooking skills are getting much better.”

“Exactly, you’ll be on Masterchef next.”

He grinned, shaking his head as he apparently finished scrolling through whatever disasters were happening throughout the world today. He put the phone down, glancing up at her.

God.

Look, Jyn didn’t kid herself that this was actually going anywhere. They were both intensely private people, with their own issues that neither wanted to talk about, and they’d met in a bar, for Christ’s sake. That wasn’t the foundation for a real relationship! No, she was fine with this casual set-up, in which they simply texted each other every now and then, the conversation full of memes, emojis and bad jokes until they finally ran out of things to talk about and the conversation inevitably turned to … other things. Almost always, it would end in her agreeing to come over.

(But then again, sometimes he would look at her like he was now and she would feel the slightest bit of regret that she wasn’t doing more about it).

“You got plans for today?” he asked her.

“Aside from getting out of here before your insane flatmate comes back? Not much.”

“He’s not insane–”

“The first time I met him, he asked me whether I was on birth control or not,” Jyn felt the need to point out for the billionth time.

“… ok, so he’s insane,” Cassian admitted. “Fair enough, I’ll let you have first shower.”

“Thank you,” Jyn hopped off the table with a flourish.

Half an hour later, and Jyn was washed and fully dressed. She shrugged her jacket back on and shoved her feet into her boots, but it was when she was stooping to the floor to pick up her wallet and keys when she suddenly paused. The memory of how she’d initially dropped them there had slammed into her head and without any warning … she wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

She must have looked ridiculous half-crouched on the floor, but she couldn’t stop herself from lingering. What, was she going to miss him? Whatever this feeling was, it was ridiculous and it happened every bloody time, but she just couldn’t control the memories that flooded her brain every time it was the moment she had to walk out. She remembered his arms sliding around her waist last night, gathering up her shirt and she’d dropped her keys to fist her hands in his hair. She remembered him eventually pushing her back onto the bed, kneeling down to the floor so that his head could bury itself between her thighs. She remembered shivering, remembered clawing at his back, remembered rolling them over and linking their fingers together next to his head, hips moving in a pace that set her on fire …

… hahahahahahaha, well, SHIT. She had to get out of here.

She quickly lurched up from the floor. Hastily darting back to the bathroom, she stuck her head around the door and yelled out,

“Hey! I’m leaving now!”

He paused from where he was apparently about to step into the shower. He gave her a warm smile and said, “Bye, Jyn.”

She honestly had no idea why she did it.

Maybe she’d finally gone a little nutty from the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the way he had turned to face her, as if he was offering up himself anyway. Maybe it was the fact that she still couldn’t get last night in particular out of her head and now that she was standing here in front of him in all his glory, it was all she could think about?

Hell, for whatever godforsaken reason … Jyn loped forward two steps and kissed him.

It was nothing, really. A casual press of lips, it lasted less than a second before she was pulling away again, turning to leave. She hadn’t even thought about it, until it hit her about three steps later. She froze in the bathroom doorway.

WHAT … WHAT DID SHE JUST DO?

She just kissed him goodbye. What the hell. That wasn’t something they did, this was supposed to be nothing! This wasn’t a relationship, this was two people who fucked every now and then, they didn’t do cuddling or kissing goodbye or cooking waffles together on a Sunday morning, Jyn giggling and wearing his shirt from the night before! Hell, Jyn wasn’t sure if she was even capable of that anymore. There weren’t supposed to be any frills, any conversations about what they were or where they were going, and there sure as all hell weren’t supposed to be any ‘feelings’ involved! What the hell was this? She felt her stomach churning and she almost turned back around to apologise, until she realised that she didn’t really want to see the look on his face (what if he was cringing just as hard as she was? What if he wasn’t?!).

So she made her feet move forward, and she practically ran out of the flat.

Finally outside in the hallway, she could breathe again. Well, sort of. Holy shit, holy shit. Did she just ruin everything? He was never going to text her again! Determined to get as far away as she could in as short amount of time as possible, Jyn strode down the hallway as quick as she could without actually sprinting. She pulled out her phone, determined to call Bodhi since he always seemed to know what to do –

SLAM.

Jyn shrieked a little as she went flying. Apparently, she had walked smack right into someone, and the force of it sent her sprawling back on her arse. Her phone skidded several feet away as she hit the ground.

“Are you all right–? Oh. It’s you,” a familiar voice said.

Jyn groaned out loud. Of all people, she did not want to be talking to Kay FUCKING Tu right this moment.

“I promise I was just leaving,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll help myself up.”

“You should pay better attention to where you’re going,” Kay naturally didn’t get the sarcasm.

The first time they’d met was when they’d both accidentally attempted to use the bathroom at the same time in the middle of the night and the relationship hadn’t exactly gotten better from there. Cassian’s weird flatmate was blunt to the point of rudeness, and made it quite clear that he didn’t approve of their ‘arrangement’ (who the hell even called it that?). If she was ever unfortunate enough to find herself in his company, she usually spent about 90% of the time subtly making fun of him. Jyn grumbled as she hauled herself up from the floor, retrieving her poor battered phone along the way.

“Why are you leaving so early?” Kay suddenly asked her.

Jyn turned to stare incredulously at him. “Like you care?”

“Just observing. You normally stick around for much longer in the mornings after you stay the night, even when you know I'm coming home. Are you no longer satisfied with the relationship?” Kay asked. “Because I’d be more than happy with that scenario, might I suggest–?”

“I accidentally kissed him goodbye,” she suddenly blurted out.

Kay raised his eyebrows so high, she thought they might disappear into his hair, which was a feat in of itself considering the buzz cut he sported. She had no idea where that had come from. But it had been screaming inside her and apparently, it just couldn’t wait until she was out of here and furiously texting Bodhi for help. Apparently, it needed addressing now, to the point where she was even willing to talk to Cassian’s insane flatmate about it!

What was wrong with her?

“And … that’s a bad thing?” Kay looked confused.

“It’s not … Jesus, I don’t know why I’m bothering to explain this to a robot in human form, but it’s just not what we do, ok?” Jyn said, exasperatedly. “We’re not … we’ve never been serious. Kissing goodbye is something that people with feelings and emotions do and that’s not us!”

“I see,” Kay peered down at her, seemingly interested by the conundrum she had presented to him. Well, gee, that made her feel better. “As far as I’m aware, kissing someone goodbye can be considered a sign of affection. People like to be close to the ones they love and in this scenario you are leaving, so it could be seen as an expression of ‘I would prefer it if I didn’t have to go, but my responsibilities call for it, so let me be close to you one last time’.”

“… you got all that from a kiss goodbye?”

“I often don’t understand social interaction. I do my best to try.”

“I can tell,” Jyn muttered. There was a pause for a moment, in which Kay just looked at her expectedly, the two of them still standing together in the middle of the damn hallway. Finally, Jyn couldn’t take it anymore. “Well?” she added. “You’re apparently the expert, what do I do?”

“How should I know?”

“According to you, I’m getting all emotional about Cassian! C’mon, how do I stop it?”

“Most people consider emotional connections a good thing, I don’t understand why you want to stop it–”  

“Look, I’m not good at relationships, ok?” Jyn sighed in frustration. She really did not want to get into her very short list of Disastrous Dating Attempts here, but Kay was apparently annoying enough that it was coming out of her. “Every time I try, it ends in an unmitigated catastrophe,” Everyone leaves, a voice in her head sneered. No one sticks around in the end. It’s better to not try than to get burned again and again …

But thankfully, Kay couldn’t hear that.

“Why are you even sleeping with Cassian then, if you don’t want a relationship?” he asked in bewilderment.

She floundered for a moment.

“… uh, he’s hot?”

For a second, she almost thought he snorted with laughter … but Kay doesn’t laugh. He must have just been clearing his throat or something.

“So you kissed him goodbye,” he clarifies. “as an accident, you said?”

“I definitely didn’t mean to, it just … happened,” Jyn admitted. “I don’t bloody know, it probably meant nothing, like it was just a reflex reaction! Right?”

“That sounds like a decent theory. Do you have evidence to support it?”

“Evidence? Have you been watching crime shows again?”

“Cassian does not let me watch them on our shared T.V.,” Kay sighed in disappointment. “He says that he sees enough real crimes at work, which is fair.”

Jyn shook her head. This man didn’t understand sarcasm, and yet also enjoyed watching crime shows like a normal person. She’d never get this bloke. “Look, I’m just saying … when you’re sleeping with someone, even if it’s casual, you get pretty damn close, physically speaking. It’s natural to kiss goodbye, I just wasn’t thinking ok? I shouldn’t be overthinking it.”

“If you know that already, why are you still freaking out about it?”

“WHO SAYS I’M FREAKING OUT?”

“Jyn, I’m going to note here that you’re still voluntarily having a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway,” Kay gestured vaguely around them. “Usually, you would have punched me and told me to fuck off by now.”

Shit. Maybe she WAS still freaking out.

“… so it was a sign of affection, you say?” she asked, weakly.

He nodded. “Or it was just a reflex reaction,” he added on her point.

“Well, which one was it for me?”

“The hell if I know, Jyn. If I can’t predict your behaviour on any average day, what makes you think I could predict this?”

Your actions are continually unpredictable, Jyn Erso, he’d told her once. This was back when she and Cassian had barely known each other for two weeks, and Jyn had immediately responded with how the hell he’d known her last name. What followed had been a lengthy explanation of how he had apparently gone all Sherlock Bloody Holmes on them all and had managed to Facebook stalk her.

“Who is this man you were photographed with in a very affectionate pose on the 16th December, 2010?” he’d asked, shoving his phone under her face.

“That’s my brother, Bodhi,” she’d answered incredulously. “Blimey, what is wrong with you?”

But at least the man’s actions had come from a warped sense of protectiveness over his flatmate. Cassian had been mortified upon finding out, but Jyn had simply waved it off. It wasn’t worth getting worked up over. Hell, Cassian wasn’t even supposed to be worth it, but there had to be a reason she kept coming back for more and maybe this was it? Maybe, despite everything, despite her best intentions not to … she’d gone and fallen for the bloke anyway?

She shuddered, as if that might shake away the feelings.

Jyn, what have you gone and done?

But ok! Ok, this wasn’t THAT bad though, right? Like, if she was going to get emotional about anyone, at least it was him at the end of the day? She could have (and had) done much worse. Hell, tossers were practically her type at this point! But Cassian had a certain charm. He was easy to talk to, easy to be herself around, and not to mention was easy on the eyes …

But it was also easy to walk away from the tossers. Walking away from Cassian was going to hurt like a bitch.

Actually, she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to walk away.

“Kay,” she said, coughing hastily around her scratchy voice. “I don’t think it was just a reflex.”

He nodded. “What are you going to do about it, then?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… but something. I don’t know what, but I’ve got to do something.”

He sighed. “Well, I can’t say I’m ecstatic at this news, but at least this will further Cassian’s happiness.”

“Come again?”

“Well, Cassian is clearly the happiest he’s ever been since he met you,” Kay said matter-of-factly and not at all like he’d just exploded her heart inside her chest. “I don’t particularly like you, but I want him to be happy, so …”

Boom.

Something clicked somewhere inside her head and apparently, that was all it took. Her resolve was firmly set.

“Kay, I’ve found that I suddenly have an idea after all – I gotta go! And I never said this, but you’re not actually so bad, ok?”

She didn't even let him respond, instead already tearing off back down the hallway. Footsteps pounding, it took her several moments to realise that running wasn’t actually going to make much difference since she was currently locked out with no key. She sighed exasperatedly, looking back at Kay pointedly until he strode after her, inserting his key and thankfully letting her back inside.

“Likewise, Jyn Erso,” he told her.

She tore through the rest of the flat in seconds, dumping her keys and jacket somewhere along the way. Cassian had apparently left the shower since it was no longer running, yet she found him still in a towel in his bedroom as he apparently searched for clothes. He glanced up when she opened the door, the words, “Hey, Kay–” on his lips, but that was about when Jyn launched herself straight into his arms.

He tasted of minty toothpaste and surprise. His skin was hot and she wound her arms tight around his neck. He didn’t pull back. In fact, they stood there entwined together in the middle of his bedroom, kissing until they were red-faced and the towel was threatening to fall to the floor. Her heart was racing so fast she wondered if this was what a heart attack was, but luckily if anything, the feeling seemed to be mutual. When she pulled back he followed, lips chasing hers until finally he allowed her to see his face. His fingers dug into her hips.

“You’re not Kay,” he made a point of mentioning.

“It wasn’t just a reflex!” she practically yelled. “Wait – shit, sorry. I should explain first.”

“That would be appreciated, thanks.”

“I ran into Kay out in the hall,” She was still wound in his arms. It made things increasingly distracting, but she forced herself on. “Sometimes it’s just a reflex, but this time I don’t think it was. I hate leaving in the mornings, Cassian. I love that you let me eat your food. And you never complain when I send you obscure memes at two in the morning. Shit, my point is that I think I like you and I suck at this kind of thing, but I – I – think I want to try anyway, yeah?”

“… you got all that from talking to Kay?” he asked in amazement.

“Yeah, you can check me for head injury later.”

“I resent that!” a disembodied voice suddenly came from the bedroom door.

They both turned to see Kay, quite obviously eavesdropping.

“I see ‘subtle’ is not a word in his vocab,” Jyn muttered. “Kay, GET OUT.”

“Fine!” he complained, waving a hand at her dismissively. “Go and have sex already, just let me get my headphones on first …”

“Sorry,” Jyn mentioned once he was gone.

“Hey, he’s my flatmate not yours,” Cassian said fondly. “Oh, I like you too, by the way.”

“Ah. Good.”

She could still hear Kay muttering complaints when they kissed again.

[riveires]

the pros and cons of breathing

@twentysixdegrees

JOOHYUK

the sheets are too scratchy, his pillow is too hard. maybe he should have heeded his older sister’s advice about investing in high quality sleep materials. or, maybe it’s because joonho’s desk light had still been on until about thirty minutes ago? but that’d never really been a problem before. joohyuk could really sleep anywhere if he was tired enough–so maybe he simply wasn’t tired enough. if that’s the case, then he finds himself going stir crazy in his bed and he turns on his side towards joonho.

“hhhhhey. joooooonho.” blinking a few times, he frowns when his roommate doesn’t respond right away. “i know you’re not asleep yet–no way you’re asleep yet–” and he’s soon rewarded with a small, acknowledging, sound.

with that in mind, joohyuk flings his covers off of his body, tugging one of the sheet corners out of his basketball shorts (how’d that even happen?). joohyuk pads over to joonho quietly, the gap between their beds easily covered in about 4 steps.

“my mattress is slumpy.” sitting down on the very edge of joonho’s bed, joohyuk finds himself quickly losing his courage. “i’ll put in a maintenance request tomorrow but can i just…?”

my bed isn’t comfortable without you.

JOONHO

Statistically speaking, how the next morning will go splits down 50-50 by the outcomes: will or won’tㅡpassing this goddamn test that is. On one hand, the painfully borderline B- should provide enough willpower to push for the odds to turn in his favor. But an hour in, the digits flipping to a late 11:30 see to eyes glazed over and a head bobbing barely inches above high water, swamped by formulas Joonho’s long given up on. The switch clicks off. Here’s to another day done, at lastㅡ

Until it isn’t

He thinks Joohyuk would beg to differㅡthat technically, it’s never really over until it has to be, like it’s some intangible notion out of human reach, and day isn’t quite day when the sun’s long sunk below the waves for full moon glory. That the night is still young. And yet it’s just thatㅡan assumption. There’s no telling what goes on in his head for sure.

But what he does know is this: the thoughts that bloom bright in the back of his own mind all hummingbird-frenzy, the palpable nearness of Joohyuk even when he’s not there, and the faint thud deep in the swell of his chest when he is. With his heart in his throat, he’s careful to not make a sound. Not right now, anyway. And thenㅡ

“What…?” Joonho shifts to glance at him over his shoulder, a slow show of “act natural.” Thud. Thud. He’s suddenly thankful for the dark, where the other boy can’t see him considering two sides of the coin.

50-50. Will, or won’t.

A sigh. Quiet surrender. “Fine.” Reluctance is a hesitant motion, where he gives just the tiniest bit of space, a third of the second pillow,  and then finally half of the whole bed. He lifts up the blanket. Thud, thud, thud.

“Get in here.” 

JOOHYUK

people measure their time in minutes or seconds, or even in heartbeats if you’re feeling romantic, but right now the only way he manages to measure is by the slow rise of blood to his face. it flushed around his collarbones when he made the decision to get out of bed. it rose up to his neck when he asked, and in that almost immeasurable time between his last syllable and joonho’s answer, the blush has risen almost to his ears. next time don’t even take the chance, he scolds inside his head before the “fine” reaches him properly. he’s almost ready to flee the scene, to jokingly complain about joonho’s own mattress (’maybe we both should file for new ones–’) until the weight of his answer fully settles.

he feels joonho shifting before he turns around to see. and then he’s relaxing his muscles–the ones that freeze up when you’re in situation as close to fight or flight as you can get in in a shared dorm room with one of your oldest friends.

yeah, it sounds just as ridiculous to him, too.

but it’s what he’s working with, and joohyuk is incredibly conscious of this when he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and starts to shuffle his way into the already warm covers, facing joonho (because he’s feeling ballsy). joohyuk pulls the covers up above his shoulders, shifting closer to joonho in the process. he’s incredibly aware of the fact that they’re two fully-sized college students shoved into a bed meant for one.

“can’t believe you almost left me in the cold.” he injects a tinge of drama into his voice. he wears the shield well, and it’s never failed him before. “in the cold with a lumpy mattress.” but he’s not a heathen–joohyuk keeps his voice low so as to not offend the tranquility of the night. “thanks though. i hope i wasn’t too distracting while you were studying i…just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.”

he continues to work the angle of the malformed mattress because the tossing and turning was definitely due to those reasons. they certainly didn’t have anything to do with the missing equation of a familiar body, or the slow crescendo of longing that starts somewhere close to his head and ends in his head. “is tonight a sleep immediately night or a talk then drift night?” apparently, those factors were strong enough to prompt a rebellion; logic against some sappy, whiny, need. and joohyuk was always shit with his impulse control. “cause if it’s a talk and drift, why didn’t you go out on that second date with…what’s her face?”

case and point.

JOONHO

“I know."

It’s an answer meant to match him, exasperated and droll to Joohyuk’s overdone means to appear moving. Double entendre for: can’t believe I hadn’t, sitting at the tip of his tongue, as he lays still, arms crossed. Minutes to midnight with the lights off, and no easing into the swell of slumber. Instead, this feels more like he’s dreaming with his eyes wide open. Low brows, the high slope of his nose, mouth softenedㅡall the makings of a boy that he’s known for more than half his life.

One that doesn’t seem ready to fall asleep either.

"Well,” begins with a huff, and it’s probably the most amused he’s sounded all evening, but stops short. It’s a turn he hadn’t seen coming.

“You mean Shirin?”

Canton born and raised, Yale-bound for a future Ph.D in economics. Or something. Something like that. Shirin. He fills the blanks in memory with details that had made for a better impression. In the span of a 90 minutes, she’d revealed a knack for storytellingㅡthe backwoods of some  obscure Midwest suburb to downtown London in a span of breaths, to the garlic-and-lemon-splashed sauté on their plates, to all the lessons to be learned from everything and nothing. At one point, he’d even glanced at her hands, then folding the napkin into a triangle, had become fully convinced right there she could make entire mountains out of the damn thing if she wanted to.

But more than that,  Joonho had been compelled to envy. Envious of how she takes to language so effortlessly, lets it tail her rather than the other way around. For the longest time, he thought he could do without—until then. When every tangent over lunch sent him back to the receding form of another through the doorway earlier that morning. Until now, on his side, close but not close enough to break the even distance. A dip in the bed makes for a small valley. Words fail to float, follow free. Little rivers to nowhere.

“I…got busy, I guess. Dunno.” A shrug, as if he’s finally come around to the admission. (But to what?) His cheek lifts to rest against the bend of his own elbow. There’s something different about the way he speaks now, tinged careful. “What about you and that other girl?”

JOOHYUK

Joohyuk’s always been a needy sort of person, ever since they were young. It was cute as a little kid, over-excited and bad at keeping his mouth shut. Looking back on it, he doesn’t understand how Joonho stuck it out with him, all the way up until he’d moved. He’s leveled out considerably, but he knows some people s still find him to be a little much.

Sometimes he feels a little bad, even now. It feels like Joohyuk’s always asking favors from Joonho. He’s been comforting since they were young, and Joohyuk’s always found him almost magnetic.

Comforting, magnetic. They’re some of the reasons why he always ends up so close.

It takes him a second. “Huh?” His first reaction is confusion, until he thinks back on his most recent date. His face morphs, mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape as he realizes. “Ángel.”

The former roommate of his current teammate, and unfortunately it was one of those instances of ‘Oh I have a friend who’s gay. I can set you up with him?’ By now Joohyuk is used to these sort of things. They’re well-meaning, and they really do come from a good place, but it’s still rooted in stereotypes. He’s not attracted to anyone and everyone, but something had compelled him to say ‘sure.’

Ángel was that old money sort of rich. They had more similarities than Joohyuk thought originally possible, given how different their backgrounds were, but not enough to inspire any real connection. He’d been a good listener, but was the type that only listened so he could one-up you with his next sentence. The worst part was that he probably didn’t mean to do it; he was probably trying to just seem impressive, but Joohyuk wasn’t interested in any of that by the third date. That’s some first date bull. And don’t even get him started on how picturesque his life seemed. Big house, lots of land, his was a family that had a professional photographer come to their home to take posed family pictures. Can’t relate.

Joohyuk can feel the covers shift the slightest, each breath moving Joonho’s shoulders and by extension, the blankets. “He wanted someone who was…like, gonna look at him with stars in their eyes. Constantly. It was exhausting to smile and nod at him so often. He was draining.”

And then, “I’m cold.”

Something compels him to keep talking, even though he knows he should probably quit it now before his mouth got him in trouble. “Unlike you.”

JOONHO

“Oh.” Only the smallest sound of surprise. "That Ángel. I’m sorry, man.“ Disappointment by now has dulled into something ritualistic, having and not wanted, wanting and not had. How many more names until they’d land upon the right one?

Joohyuk. Joohyuk. It’s not just a name anymore. It’s something bigger, brighter. In each other’s rooms, July moon glow, curtains dancing slow-motion under the quiet whirring of the fan. Promises between peals of laughter: swear on it, okay, we’re gonna do it, okay dude, okay, we will. Somehow all that summer heat managed to follow them from then to here. Or maybe it’s just him, under the spell of nostalgia and nostalgia alone. Nothing in the vein of the abstract he knows—formulas, unit-bound constants, theories of matter, a total wash. So what now.

“This sucks.” He’s on his back now, eyes to the ceiling, no fan in sight. Then a breathless laugh: “Maybe we’re not cut out for the people here. They’re too…” What’s the word? He has it, then doesn’t. Going, going, gone. Don’t chase what you can’t get back. “I don’t think it’s good to be with them for anything more.”

Homesick? Joonho’s hardly the type to catch something like that, but one look at him has him thinkingㅡfeelingㅡnonetheless. All those years until it hadn’t been.

But he should know better than anyone: thinking doesn’t get anyone anywhere. Not when there’s your hands, your anticipation, the pause before your first move.

Hovering, his head and shoulders cast a shadow over the other as he changes position. His expression is along the lines of disbelief, brows furrowing deep. “You have more than half the bed, Joohyuk.” But even then, despite then, he pulls the blanket close, his own body closer. His heart skips a beat and he has to fight the impulse to bury his face under the covers goddamnit, goddamnit.

“Christ.“  

JOOHYUK 

“It’s fine.” His eyes open, staring at the hand that’s settled near his face on the pillow. He pointedly avoids looking at Joonho. “He’s just another one, right? Another fling in the string of them.” And why is it that neither of them have found anyone even remotely close to being compatible enough? Joohyuk knows his faults, he’s tried dating based on opposite, based on similarities, based off of something as silly as zodiac signs, even. Nothing’s worked.

The girl before Ángel had broken up with him because she’d accused him of choosing Joonho over her. But that’s unfair, right? Joonho’s been there since day one. He shouldn’t need to choose, but if had to, it’d be Joonho without fail, every time.

Always.

“Sometimes, being here makes me homesick.” The admission comes as a surprise to even himself. He can’t properly decipher his feelings, right now isn’t a good time for trying to do so. He’s too vulnerable, Joonho is too close, and the night is too comforting. Joohyuk can feel himself slipping, sliding, and he should be worried about falling too far down but he can’t seem to muster up the care. It’s easier to swim deeper; sometimes it’s easier to just give in. “But that’s stupid, right? Cause you’re here. And you’re home.”

Nestling into the covers, he sighs, eyes closing to give himself a little extra push of courage. His hand snakes over Joonho’s waist, and they’re facing each other but he’s got his eyes closed. So this isn’t anything more than just mutual comfort. “Just because I have half the bed doesn’t mean I’m any warmer.” But he is. Where his arm touches the fabric of Joonho’s waist, it scorches. Where his hand curls, fingertips gently brushing against the small of Joonho’s back, he burns.

“But it’s okay, you’re warm. Why’re you so far away anyways? Quit acting like a stranger.”

Joohyuk makes the mistake of opening his eyes. His words are a lie. They’re entirely too close, nose almost brushing against Joonho’s. “We should date. You’re the only one that can handle my shit.” And I know how to make you happy.

He laughs quietly, nervously. Joonho looks so handsome under the filtered moonlight. “Kidding.”

JOONHO

Try, try again. If that isn’t the most common case of “been there, done that,” he can’t imagine what else could possibly compare.

But it doesn’t matter.

Where the other’s eyes open, his own close. Breathing in, counting out the pace of each exhale. The effect is calming, makes the fluttering in his stomach slow a little if not completely. Seoul is more vivid like this, painted with obvious care and affection. Childhood through the maze of alleyways. Memories of days longer than they are now. Or at least, they feel like that. Pure, unapologetic emotion, no matter which way he spins itㅡthe sprawl of the Atlantic on one side, the way Joohyuk reaches over to hold him on the other.

Shying away would’veㅡshould’veㅡbeen the first impulse. The instinctual panic. The racing of pulses. It had been like that, once. Now no longer. He moves to his touch, instead, the pull stemming not from the throws of gravity but from the center of his chest.

Proximity makes a good excuse for a change: that there’s nowhere else for his gaze to trail off to, but he keeps his constraint. Baby steps. Untilㅡ

“That’sㅡ” The first time anyone’s said that.

“The stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

What had he been undone with? A single syllable, or a single possibility?

“Whatever.” Unfolding his arms, he draws the covers up to his nose. “I’m going to sleep.”

Turns out it’s neither. Behind it all is just a single boy. From the butterflies that stir in his wake to the careful hands that hold both halves of his heart. And he doesn’t know even know it.

But Joonho’s smiling anyway, ear to ear. Hope is funny like that, funnier in the kind that comes with floating on cloud nine. Kidding, he’d said. I know, he’d thought after. Everything else in the state of the unspoken, set adrift, waiting. Still waiting.

For another day, then.

“You should too.”

JOOHYUK

The pull of sleep is tempting his eyes closed, coaxing his breathing into deeper pulls, slower exhales. It’s that floaty, weightless, state in between awake and asleep, where you can feel everything around you but it seems like you’re watching from afar. Funny how he’d been absolutely unable to fall asleep before, but now all it takes is a few minutes of teasing fondness, sappy confessions, and meanings between words. Joohyuk doesn’t so much reply to Joonho’s accusations of limited intelligence, as he rumbles out an acknowledging sound. Sticks and stones, and whatchamacallits. Too many words to get out properly.

Still, he feebly fights against the sleep that bleeds closer to his core, trying to fall asleep after Joonho does. It’s not so much a dominance thing rather than a nervousness that he’s going to say something silly, take a thought too far, or perhaps be too honest out loud. “Whatever,” he barely manages to echo out, the word low and drawling, as if his brain is winding down before it shuts off completely. “I’ll sleep, I’ll sleep.” His voice shifts closer to a whine, tired of trying to stay awake, tired of holding back, and most of all, tired of being this close but being unable to do anything more than this.

Seven billion people in the world and he knows that soulmates don’t necessarily have to be lovers. They can be best friends too. But with Joonho this close, Joohyuk doesn’t know where best friend ends and lover begins.

He voices his drifting train of thought in the vaguest way possible.

“You still love me though.”

And that will just have to do, for now.

[FIN] 

[thorne93]

Tag Team

Prompt: Request for something fluffy and/or smutty with Dennis and Barry from the movie Split

Word Count: 1827

Warning: language, smut (18+), fluffiness

Note: This was written for @fandomstoryteller I hope I delivered, dollface! It’s not beta’d so all mistakes are mine. It also is one of the first-ish cracks at smut for me, so be gentle

~~~~~~

“What do you think of this?” Barry asked as he leaned over and showed you a design.

 “Oh, I love the way the pant leg flows,” you commented nicely.

 “How’s your dress line coming?” he wondered as he took his sketch pad back and started to work some more.

“Ugh, not so good. I’m stuck on this red one,” you answered, showing him your 50’s style dress. “I want more lace but...I think it’ll make it old. Ugh. I hate designing,” you said in frustration as you threw the pencil down on your coffee table. You had invited Barry over for designing some new outfits. You two had taken design class in the Spring and hit it right off. Now, it was eight months later and you were the best of friends and had another assignment due for your next level design class. Truth be told, you had a crush on him for a while. Probably about three months into your relationship you realized you liked him. It was shortly after that, he confessed he had DID. You didn’t know much about the disorder except that it was sometimes hard to control.

 You had only met one of his other personalities and that was Dennis. Dennis wasn’t like Barry. Barry was a free, flowing, fun loving guy who was super sweet. Dennis was rigid, stiff, had OCD, and had a bit of an issue around women. He loved to see women without their tops on and sometimes became a little pushy about it. On the rare occasions were Dennis made an appearance, you worked as a personal helper to sort of calm him down when his urges became too strong. You reminded him to cool it and you eventually could get him to back off young ladies.

 But his disorder didn’t define him. You liked all of him, even if you’d only met certain parts of him. And he loved that you didn’t see him as different. When you found out about his disorder, you didn’t call him names, run away, call a psych ward. You just asked him questions, tried to understand him better, and accepted him for who he was. That acceptance made him feel wonderful.

 “Darling, you’re too stressed,” he said as he got up. “Here, let me.”

 He came around and started to massage your shoulders.

 “Oh my god, that feels so good,” you moaned.

 “I’m glad. You work too hard,” he cooed as he leaned down.

 “I don’t know about that,” you said. “I can’t do any of this stuff right,” you groaned.

 “Oh, come now,” he said, stopping the massage to circle the couch and sit beside you. You pouted a little. “You’re just as great as anyone, don’t ever forget that, okay?”

 “I’ll try to remember but it’s so hard, especially when I work with someone as talented as you,” you said, nudging against him.

 “Oh, please, darling, don’t make me blush.”

 “But...what if I want to?” you suddenly asked, feeling bold. You had grown tired of waiting to make a move on your friend. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. Barry stopped and stared at you. He seemed stricken. “What if I want to make you blush?” you wondered as you leaned closer to him, your face getting so close his, you could feel his breath on yours.

 “Uh...then...I would say...do your worst,” he said before his hand flew to your hair and he grabbed you and kissed you. You moved your lips around his fervently, the kiss growing in heat and passion as you both moaned. He pushed you slightly back against the couch. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he said in a low voice as he started to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

 “Me too,” you breathed, taking heavy breaths.

 “I think...though...You’d prefer someone else’s company,” he mentioned as he kissed your cleavage.

 “What? No, I only want you,” you said, protesting as his hands trailed your sides.

 “I mean...there might be someone who could do this time with you justice,” Barry informed with an eyebrow twitch.

 “You mean...Dennis?”

 “Sure. I could let him have the light and have his fun time with you, would you be alright with that?”

 You waited, biting your lip as you thought.

 “Oh, darling, if you keep biting your lip like that, he’ll come out without warning anyway,” Barry warned in a husky voice.

 “Alright, let’s do it.”

 “Very well.”

 Barry closed his eyes and as soon as they opened, you immediately recognized Dennis.

 “Hi, Dennis,” you greeted softly as you laid under him.

 “Y/N,” he purred. His eyes assessed the situation and he suddenly realized what was going on. He took off his belt suddenly. “Give me your hands,” he instructed, the command causing a familiar tingle in your sex to form.

 “Yes, sir,” you said, giggling.

 “Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he said firmly. You clamped your mouth down and nodded. You gave him your hands and he used his belt to tie your hands expertly to the open end of your couch, around the wooden arm rest.

 He leaned down and began kissing you again, harder this time, the sensation making you get lost in it as your legs spread and he got in between them.

 “That’s it, Y/N, let me in,” he purred in your ear as he kissed your neck. He started to bite lightly on your skin, leaving love marks, making you arch your back. He took the advantage and took the initiative to roll your shirt up quickly and began kissing down your cleavage to your stomach, stopping right above your skirt. “That’s much better,” he noted with appreciation. He grazed your stomach with his nose as he came back up and kissed you quickly before diving down between your legs.

 Just seeing him there, the lust in his eyes, it made you quiver as he pulled at your panties and you lifted to grant him access. He pulled them off and threw them across the room as he dipped his head back down. His nose crazed over your clit, his breath hot on it, making you squirm. He lifted his hands and held your hips.

 “Don’t move,” he strictly told you. You obliged, but it was hard. He continued to tease you with his breath and nose. You ached to move an inch forward and plant his face right between your legs but you knew better than to disobey. Finally, he gave you mercy and he placed his warm tongue between your slick folds, dragging his tongue slowly at first, making you want to dig yourself down on his face. After just a few agonizingly slow licks, he finally picked up the pace, darting his tongue in and out of you, the feeling like heaven. He began to pick up a pattern of dart, dart, lick. It was maddeningly good. You didn’t know which sensation you loved better. He continued that pattern until you began to grind on his face and he lightly bit your clit in response, making you moan.

 “Oh, God, Dennis, more...More!” you finally screamed, not able to hold back any more. He merely laughed evilly though and continued the exact same pace.

 “Please, Dennis?! Please?”

 “What did I say about not talking?” he asked as he came up and unbuttoned his pants so quickly, his cock fully erect as it sprang free. “Now, I’ll have to punish you.”

 He lowered himself down, placing the head of his cock at your slick entrance, throbbing so bad. You needed him in you now. You inched down as far as you could, but you were stuck.

 He laughed at your misfortune.

“Ah-ah,” he chastised. “Only when I say.”

 You nodded, biting your lip. He looked down to your bra and pulled your breasts free from their cups, immediately placing his mouth on one of the perky nipples, making you cry out and wriggle against him but then he stopped.

“Don’t,” he commanded and you stilled. He went back to his assault, sucking and biting at your nipple, his cock right at your entrance but not inside you. You wanted so much more from him and he was denying you….and you loved it.

 “Tell me what you want,” he said between sucks.

 “You,” you breathed raggedly.

 “Good girl,” he said as he sucked your nipple back into his mouth, hard as he eased himself inside you slowly. You groaned so loud you were sure your neighbors would hear. He continued to stay above you, pumping in you, steady at first, nipping, sucking at your nipples, going back and forth, licking, teasing.

 Then he grew tired of the slower pace and began really fucking you, his dick slamming into you, slamming your ass into the couch as you cried out a few times.

 “That’s my girl,” he cooed. “Just like that. You take it so well,” he approved as he continued the rapid pace of thrusting deep and fast in you.

 It didn’t take long and that tingling, heat began to pool in your stomach and legs. Between his mouth on your breasts, your skirt still being on, his size, this was all a recipe to have you cumming nearly instantly. “Dennis, please, I’m...so...close,” you moaned out, grinding down on him.

 “Is that so?”

 He smiled down at you and reached his hand between your legs, expertly playing with your clit as he continued to move inside you, hitting your sweet, sweet spot, and licking your nipples more.

 “Ah, uh...oh...ah, fuck!” you cried out, convulsing around him as your walls clamped on his cock. He stopped on your nipples but slowly eased off your clit, making the climax ride out smoothly.

 “Angh!” he shouted, only three moments later, his throbbing dick spilling cum inside you. He collapsed on you for a few moments, and once you two had cooled down, he looked at you.

 “Barry?” you asked, a little confused.

 “Hi, darling,” he greeted back, kissing your nose. “I told you you’d have more fun with him,” he said happily.

 “Well I don't’ know about ‘more’ but it definitely was fun. Now could you untie me?” you asked, laughing.

 “Ah, yes!” He laughed as he untied your hands from the belt lasso.

 Once you were all cleaned up and reclothed and sat back down, Barry threw his arm around you and said, “So, I guess this means we’re dating now.”

 “What are you talking about?” you asked. “Dennis is the one who rocked my world. You still have to prove yourself,” you informed with a smirk.

 “Is that so?” he questioned with the raise of an eyebrow before kissing you and leaning you down. “Then let me prove myself right now,” he said seductively before getting back in between your legs, eliciting a sexy laugh from you.  

[kuriquinn]

Cooties

Summary: As the years inch by, the competition between them becomes more and more apparent. It’s entirely good-natured on Sakura’s side, but the same can definitely not be said for Sasuke. He is as intense in his dislike of her as he is in his love for his brother and parents. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 10 – Prompt: “SasuSaku Rivals”]

Summary: “This is probably the most useless thing you’ve ever done to get my attention,” she informs him later, as the sun begins to set. “And considering you shaved your head that time Chōji told you I liked boys with short hair…” [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 9 – Prompt: “Community Service”]

Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )

Rating: T

Warning: Slight OOC but only since the characters are from an alternate timeline.

Canon-Compliance: None. Alternate Reality / Alternate Timeline (Meanwhiles & Neverweres ‘Verse)

Beta Reader: Sakura’s Unicorn

Sasuke Uchiha is convinced that Sakura Haruno is a demon.

From her ridiculously coloured hair to her too-bright eyes to the way she walks around with a straight back, exuding total confidence in a way none of the other kids do. Unlike the other girls who silently clamour to sit beside him on their first day at the Academy, she chooses a seat at the very front of the class and reads what looks like an instructional scroll until their instructor arrives. When she notices him staring at her, she looks up and smiles in a way that makes the whole room feel uncomfortably warm—like he’s her very favourite person in the world, even though they’ve never actually met.

Sasuke decides right then that there is something about her he doesn’t trust.

It turns out his instincts on this one are good because she’s weird.

Several mornings into the new academic year, Sasuke waits in the classroom, anticipating the moment when the first students start to trickle in and another tedious day of lessons begins. The peace of the morning is abruptly broken by hurried footsteps and a slamming door. Before he can react, he is cornered by a flushed and panting girl who boldly plants herself barely two feet away from him.

He, of course, knows her from class, but they’ve never even exchanged two words before. Yet, she addresses him as if they know each other well.

“Sasuke, there’s something I have to tell you because I might not get another chance,” she declares without even introducing herself. For a moment, she hesitates. It’s like the words are stuck in her throat, but then she squares her shoulders. “I have feelings for you—” Which brings him up short because theirs is a short acquaintance, and it’s the first time any member of the female species has said something like this to him. “—but I can’t spend my time chasing after you. I have to become a powerful shinobi, and if I’m focussed on you right now, it will take me longer. Just remember that, okay?”  

And then she takes off again, leaving him utterly perplexed.

And annoyed.

Sasuke doesn’t have much patience for practical jokes, if this is what her outburst was, and he has even less for people who waste his time. Her little declaration serves no actual point that he can discern, and yet it feels like there is a significance to it. Something beyond the strange confession, like she’s trying to offer him some secret message.

Something more than a notion as ridiculous as feelings.

He spends an entire hour puzzling over it before gravely deciding he’s too important to be thinking of such things. She said she won’t pay attention to him, and he takes that as an indication that he won’t be bothered by any more of her strangeness. The matter is safely stored in the back of his mind, phased out in favour of wheedling training sessions from Itachi and telling his parents about his successes in class.

But Sakura Haruno has the inconvenient, irritating talent of being noticed. And it’s not just because of her hair, but her general temperament. During breaks, she is kind to everyone she speaks to, breaks up disagreements, and quietly re-explains Iruka’s lessons if her seatmate (usually Naruto) begins to flounder.

At first, Sasuke resolutely pays her no mind; she’s no challenge to him, after all. From what he’s heard, her parents never made it past chūnin, she’s not from an official shinobi clan, and being nice isn’t going to make her a good ninja. Sure, over time, he becomes aware that she’s one of the other students Iruka tends to compliment on ability or efficiency besides him—Ino and Shino are as well—but that’s it.

But then Iruka starts to ask her to come to the front of the class to demonstrate problems on the board. Or show other students proper kunai-throwing techniques. In fact, in this respect, their teacher praises her more than he does Sasuke.

And that needles at him.

The fact that it’s someone he doesn’t like who excels as well as he does is vaguely irritating, but it’s still something he can shrug off. After all, he supposes blood doesn’t always determine ability—look at Naruto. He’s the son of the Fourth Hokage and an Uzumaki, a clan known for their immense power, and yet, he’s a talentless loser. And Shikamaru is probably smarter than all of them put together, but he has the lowest scores in the class.

The whole issue with Sakura Haruno is a fluke, nothing worth acknowledging.

Until their first evaluations come in.

Sasuke fully expects to be at the top of the class; in fact, by his calculations, he is. Except when Iruka gets up to announce the results, it’s Sakura’s name that he proudly writes on the blackboard, not Sasuke’s.

It is as if his stomach has turned to lead.

While their classmates congratulate the flustered girl, Sasuke tries desperately to figure out how she beat him. She’s talented, sure, but he’s Uchiha. His father is the police captain, his mother is a skilled jōnin, and his brother was the youngest graduate from the Academy since the hero Kakashi Hatake. The way of the shinobi should not come more easily to her, so why is this nobody proving a challenge to him?

No answer presents itself other than the fact that maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t been putting the right effort into achieving his potential.

From that moment on, Sasuke vows to beat Sakura at all costs.

He flings himself into his studies, something he never expected to have to do, and intensifies his training regimen. He observes her during taijutsu exercises, cataloguing her (admittedly few) weaknesses, and races to complete classwork faster and better than she does. He even takes to sitting up front with her, if only to keep track of her progress in relation to his own. It means sitting with Naruto, too, because for some reason, she’s friends with the loser, but he accepts this as a necessary evil.

It always makes him look better by comparison, so it works out.

At first, Sakura seems confused by his attention, even puzzled. But over time, she starts to react to his obvious ire with something like…delight?

It’s strange and weird, and not knowing why she has that reaction makes him even angrier. He thinks she has an ulterior motive of some kind. Perhaps she isn’t as nice as people think because no one is happy to have someone dislike them.

As the years inch by, the competition between them becomes more and more apparent.

It’s entirely good-natured on Sakura’s side, but the same cannot be said for Sasuke. From a young age, he has a tendency toward grudges, and his feelings radiate from the core of his heart to the tips of fingers. He is as intense in his dislike of her as he is in his love for his brother and parents.

“I don’t get it,” Naruto says one day in class when Iruka partners them together for sparring. “She’s nice to everyone, even the girls who make fun of her. How can you not like her?”

Which Sasuke doesn’t answer, instead he soundly pummels the Hokage’s kid to the ground.

He’ll probably get reprimanded for it later. Father will look disapproving, and Mother will complain that she now has to apologise to Aunt Kushina on his behalf. And the next time Sasuke sees him, Cousin Obito will give him some long-winded lecture about friendship and respect, end with a final, “Try not to kill my sensei’s kid, okay?”

But it’s worth it.

Besides, it’s not like the popular boy can’t take a beating every once in a while. And answering Naruto would mean admitting that Sasuke considers Sakura a rival which would mean acknowledging her existence out loud. He refuses to stoop to that level.

But the enmity is there nonetheless, and the rewards thereof fluctuates between them.

One day, Sasuke is at the head of their class in Kawarimi, but the next day, Sakura produces not one, but three consecutive substitutions during a game of capture-the-flag, thereby securing a win for her team. On another day, Sakura has all her mathematics homework done perfectly, and Iruka has her name up on the board again. So, Sasuke stays up the whole night, wrestling wildly with the confusing symbols and equations until his sums are perfect, earning the coveted spot as top student. He even manages to repeat this for three weeks straight.

The girls praise him and the boys mutter, and he pretends like it was no effort at all. Sakura shrugs, and goes back to whatever scroll she’s studying this week.

Sasuke’s streak comes to an end when they begin learning about chakra control. Here, he finds a difficulty that can’t be fixed by mere memorization and repetition. Here, Sakura is the clear master, and again Iruka has her go around to the other kids who need help; she spends almost her entire afternoon trying to explain to Naruto what he’s doing wrong.

Sasuke resolutely tunes out everything she is saying, insistent that he will figure it all out on his own. When she comes by to offer him assistance, he barks out, “I’m fine. Go help someone who needs it.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she tells him, and then moves on to one of their other classmates.

She doesn’t even get mad? What the hell is wrong with this girl?

By the end of the day, he manages to get a handle on it—not as well as she can do it, but better than the rest of his class—and he feels some small measure of vindication.

Then there’s the day when they both achieve a perfect score on their latest evaluation module: word problems, taijutsu forms, and even a Rope Untying Jutsu. After announcing their joint results, Iruka puts both their names up on the blackboard beside one another. The boys hoot and make catcalls, the girls whisper mutinously, and at lunch, some idiot (he’s pretty sure it’s Kiba) draws a heart around their names.

Sakura appears mortified, and Sasuke is furious.

The girls throw a fit and are quick to erase the offending drawing, turning on Sakura as if she’s responsible. Naruto spends the walk toward the Uchiha Compound (he sometimes stays with Obito and Rin when his parents are away) loudly complaining to Sasuke, as if it’s his fault it happened.

“She’s the only girl in the entire school whose name you actually remember,” he rants. “Of course people are gonna tease you! Which makes it harder for people who actually like her to get noticed!”

Naruto’s crush on Sakura is pathetic, and Sasuke tells him so. Which may or may not result in them pounding the hell out of each other before arriving at his cousin’s house a mess of bruises and cuts.

“I feel like I’m reliving the past,” Obito laughs while Rin heals the worst of their injuries. Sasuke is thankful for this because he doesn’t relish the idea of having to explain them to his mother. “The only thing missing are a pair of goggles and those crappy books!”

“What books?” Kashi pipes up curiously from where she’s playing with a stuffed dog.

“Books you can read when you’re eighteen,” Rin tells her daughter sternly. The youngest Uchiha shrugs, unbothered, before going back to her toys.

Naruto sniggers. “If they’re about girls then maybe Sasuke should read them now. That way, he can learn not to be an asshole to Sa—ow! What the hell, you bastard?!”

“Sasuke!” Rin snaps. “That was utterly uncalled for! Do you think your father would approve of that behaviour? And Naruto, if I hear language like that coming from you again, I’m going to have a conversation with your mother, and I guarantee you won’t like the results.”

Both boys turn pale at the respective threats.

“Oh, I have a feeling this is going to be the norm from now on,” Obito muses, looking both too amused and too knowing for Sasuke’s liking.

But the subject is dropped, and Sasuke makes a mental note to spend less time at his cousin’s house from now on.

In class, his exploits continue.

Every month, they have a progress test to check their skill levels. Waiting for the results always ends up feeling like a week of pure torture. Especially because, for three months straight, Sakura ends up coming out just ahead of Sasuke.

This fact is now a topic of dinner conversations, much to his mortification and fury.

Fugaku has been asking questions, wondering distantly why Sasuke isn’t at the top of his class like Itachi was. Sasuke refuses to use the excuse of a civilian girl being better than him. Instead, he accepts his father’s belief that he isn’t working hard enough and redoubles his efforts. Every day, he wakes up even earlier, forces himself through any subject that he finds difficult just for the possibility of overtaking her in class.

Slowly, it pays off.

More often than before, Iruka stands at the front of the class, congratulating Sasuke on being the top student of the week. Then for the term. And it happens again the next month, and the next, and by the end of their penultimate year at the Academy, Sasuke is named Rookie of the Year.

He is smug and satisfied with the news. Finally, he has done what he set out to do, and expects to be treated accordingly. On the day the news is announced, he expects Sakura Haruno to be devastated.

But his moment of triumph falls utterly flat when, after class, Sakura comes up to him and beams. Her eyes shine with something that looks strangely like pride.

“Congratulations!” she says with genuine and obvious pleasure. “I know you worked really hard for this! You deserve it.”

His chest feels warm and the blood rushes to his cheeks and he is angry.

He expected her to be resentful or even annoyed. Maybe he was hoping she would declare her own strategy to out-do him, or get angry at him, or do something that shows she feels the sting of defeat the same way he does.

But there is nothing there but joy, and for whatever reason, this enrages him and the words are out of his mouth before he even understands what he’s saying.

“Don’t be annoying,” he tells her coldly. “Your congratulations mean nothing to me. I beat you, therefore to me, you don’t exist anymore.”

There’s a long, horrifying beat of silence.

And there it is.

Her face falls, the brightness in her eyes fades, and the smile disappears. For a brief, brief instant, he sees an angry shadow cross her features.

He waits for her to lash out at him—she’s done it before to Kiba or Naruto when they say something particularly obtuse, and she doesn’t hold back on tongue-lashing when it comes to Ino. But then she smiles—an obviously false smiles—and quietly tells him, “I’m happy for you anyway, Sasuke.”

Then walks away.

He tries to ignore the fact it feels like she takes all the colour out of the room when she leaves.

He doesn’t see her for the rest of the day, or the next. She’s not in class or the hallways, and there are whispers from the other kids that he pretends not to hear. A tiny, niggling feeling that might possibly be guilt begins to pick at him.

Even if it didn’t, everyone he’s on speaking terms with seems to have an opinion on the matter.

“I’ve never seen Sakura as upset as she was yesterday,” Naruto tells him that morning. “She didn’t say a word the rest of the day, and she didn’t even wait for me to walk her home like she usually does.”

“That just means she’s finally gotten tired of your voice,” Sasuke insists, but he’s off-balance enough to succumb to a clumsy uppercut from his friend.

Ino corners him around lunch, shoving a finger in his face and snapping, “Just because I like you doesn’t mean you get to be a jerk to my friend! You should apologise to Sakura!”

He turns and stalks away. “Tch..”

Kashi, who’s been attending classes at the Academy now since the beginning of the year, runs into him as he is heading home. With total solemnity, she informs him that he is a moron. Because, of course, Sakura is hugely popular with the younger students.

I don’t care what they say, he insists, even if the words in his head are beginning to sound less and less certain.

He walks home by himself, realising that without Naruto or Kashi tagging along, he’s alone with his thoughts. It’s more than a relief when he encounters Itachi and their cousin Shisui in the courtyard outside the house.

“Sasuke,” his brother greets, a gentle smile on his face. “I heard you made it to the top of your class this year.”

Sasuke’s heart lifts. He doesn’t even question how his brother found out. “Yeah.”

“Well done.”

“Yeah, kid, that’s pretty cool,” Shisui tells him with a grin. “I guess you finally showed everyone that you’re as smart as your big brother, huh? I bet you impressed that crush of yours, too.”

Sasuke’s brief elation evaporates.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growls.

“Your little girlfriend. Aunt Mikoto says—”

“Shisui,” Itachi warns, noting Sasuke’s expression, just before his little brother snaps, “I don’t have time for girls and definitely not for one who’s so weird and smiles too much!”

Shisui sniggers, obviously not taking him seriously, and Itachi offers him a pandering smile.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sasuke. You could do a lot worse.” He says this with a faraway, thoughtful look in his eyes, and Sasuke realises there’s no point to defending himself further.

So, he decides to leave, but not without a parting shot and meaningful glare at Shisui. “You mean like you?”  

The sound of two chokes of disbelief when he turns his back are totally worth it.

The victory is short-lived, however, because at dinner, it starts again.

“I had tea with Mebuki Haruno today,” Mikoto chats brightly as she doles out second-helpings to her husband and sons. “She’s mending our good clothes for Yakumi’s wedding next month. She was telling me how excited her daughter, Sakura, is for summer. She’s in your class, isn’t she, Sasuke?”

“Hm.” He shoves a tomato in his mouth to avoid a proper answer, but off his father’s raised eyebrow, he swallows quickly and mutters, “Yes.”

“We should have them over one afternoon,” she continues. “They’re such a nice family. And talented, from what I hear. Iruka says she and Sasuke are usually neck-and-neck in class.”

Fugaku makes a noise of acknowledgement.

“That’s impressive for a child without shinobi lineage,” he points out, sipping his tea. “I would hope Sasuke isn’t going easy on her because she’s a girl. That devalues your abilities and hers.”

“Oh, Sasuke would never do that,” Mikoto protests. “I mean, maybe if he liked her, but— ”

Sasuke jumps to his feet at his.

“May I be excused?” he asks but doesn’t wait for the answer before stomping to his room. Upon shoving the shoji closed, he throws himself facedown on his bed in a sulk.

Even my parents!

It’s beyond frustrating that everywhere he turns today, he is destined to be reminded of Sakura. And the expression on her face when he said those words the day before.

Growling, he shoves his pillow over his head, as if that will drown out the memory of it. This is how Itachi finds him ten minutes later. He gently pries the pillow away.

“Are you all right?” he asks, and though his voice is quiet and without expectation of an actual answer, it’s as if he’s given Sasuke permission to open the floodgates.

“I don’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal over this!” he cries, clenching his fists. “Everyone tells me how I feel and they don’t listen when I tell them I don’t like Sakura! She ruins everything! She’s always in the way, and when I finally beat her—when I finally get what I’ve been working so hard for, all anyone can talk about is her! Just for once, I want someone to…to…”

He trails off, words utterly failing him in his frustration.

“Acknowledge you?” Itachi supplies.

Sasuke blinks. “…Yeah.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When you were named Rookie of the Year, how did Sakura react?” Itachi questions. “Was she upset?”

“No,” Sasuke mutters. “She congratulated me.”

“That was rather graceful,” Itachi says mildly. “It’s a measure of character when someone can accept defeat with ease. And even be magnanimous to the person who has beaten them. Can you think of anyone else who would react in such a way?”

“No…but that doesn’t matter!” Sasuke protests. “She’s weird! She never reacts how normal people react! And the whole time, it’s like she was happy that I was beating her, and that’s just not normal!”

“She was happy for you,” Itachi repeats. “Proud, even, would you say?”

“I…yeah, I guess.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted from the beginning? For her to acknowledge you?” Sasuke opens his mouth to correct him, but Itachi goes on, “Acknowledgement doesn’t have to mean ceding to a superior in battle. Sometimes, it can be as simple as a kind word.”

Which Sasuke can’t think of a way to argue against.

Now the guilty feeling is back, and with a vengeance. He shifts uncomfortably. “Hey…Itachi?”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever have this problem before? With Izumi?”

A rare expression of discomfort passes over Itachi’s face.

“That is a story for another time.” He reaches his hand out and waves his fingers, indicating his little brother should come closer. Sasuke frowns suspiciously, but inches forward only to jerk back when—of course—Itachi pokes him in the forehead. “For now, little brother, I think there’s someone else who you owe at least a conversation.”

Despite the last word, Sasuke knows his brother really means apology. The trouble is, he’s never had to give one before, so he’s unsure what to do. Maybe there’s a way he can get around actually giving one, but whatever he does, he’s going to have to face Sakura.

At the brief feeling of doubt, he frowns at himself.

He is to be a shinobi one day, and if he can’t handle talking to one girl, then he might as well give up on the whole thing now.

He wastes no more time slipping out of his room ( he doesn’t think his parents will be so keen on letting him go anywhere given his abrupt departure from dinner) and heads for her house. He’s never been there before, but Naruto has pointed it out to him on more than one occasion over the years, and he’s memorised the location against his will.

When he knocks tentatively on the door, he’s barely given a moment to prepare a story before it’s flung open and a kind-faced woman with blonde hair stands before him.

“Yes?” she asks and then blinks at him. “Oh, goodness! You look just like Mikoto. You must be Sasuke then. Come in!”

Before he can marvel at the speed with which she comes to this conclusion, he’s ushered into the house.

“Sakura talks about you a lot,” Sakura’s mother tells him cheerily. “So, even if you didn’t look the spit of your mother, I’d know who you are. I hear you just got top of the class. That’s great! She was a little upset yesterday—I guess no one likes to be bumped down to second place—but she’s really happy for you. I personally think it’s good for her. She needs to take some time away from the books, you know? Go out and have some fun! But she’s so studious all the time. And she’s always down at the hospital, asking questions, wandering around the library. I don’t know where she gets it from, I hated classes. And her dad, well, he’s brilliant of course, but the attention span of a gnat. Have you eaten, sweetheart?”

Sasuke mouths wordlessly at this. “Uh…yes.”

“Well, you look like you haven’t. Do you want something?”

“I just…need to speak to Sakura,” he manages to get out.

“Oh, she’s upstairs. She should be resting, but I bet she’s studying one of her scrolls again. You go tell her to knock it off,” Mebuki tells him. “I’ll fix up some tea and biscuits for you two, okay?” She nods into the hallway. “It’s up the stairs, second door on the left.” When he continues to stare, she makes a waving motion. “Well? What are you waiting for? Shoo!”

Sasuke decides he doesn’t want to be subject to another barrage of rambling, so he hurries up the stairs, shaking his head.

No wonder she’s so weird with a mother like that!

He reaches the door to Sakura’s room quickly, and for a moment, pauses in front of it. A sudden, overwhelming feeling of doubt hits him, and he wonders if this is what he is supposed to be doing after all. Maybe he should just wait to see her in class…

The idea of being watched as he apologises to her in front of their classmates makes his skin crawl.

No. Here is good. Simple and quick, and then I’ll go home.

And so, he takes a steadying breath and pushes open the door.

There is a brief image of Sakura—her face red and wet—and is she crying? He did not sign up for her crying, maybe he should just—

“KYAAAH! Don’t you knock?!”

A pillow is tossed at him and would hit him right in the face if he didn’t duck.

“S-Sasuke?” he hears her say tentatively. When he recovers himself, he sees her face go from indignant to shocked to mortified. “Oh, my—I’m so sorry! I thought you were my mom!”

“So you threw something at her?” he inquires, studying her. He realises the reason her face is wet is because it’s covered in sweat; perspiration soaks through her tunic. She is also positioning her body in front of something, which he thinks must have held her attention before he entered the room.

When she notices his eyes trying to see around her body, she frowns in consideration then motions for him to close the door. When he does, she shifts aside and gestures to the desk behind her. Or rather, what is on the desk behind her.

Sasuke realises that what she’s been hiding is a bird. A hawk, actually.

Its right wing is twisted at an odd angle and some of its feathers are badly bent. The creature is arranged in a makeshift nest of papers and cloth in a shoebox, and every now and then, makes feeble cooing sounds. When Sasuke takes a tentative step forward, it turns a distrustful yellow eye on him.

“It flew into my window yesterday,” Sakura explains. “I tried to heal him, but I put too much power into it and had to stop before I accidentally hurt him. But that kind of knocked me out, so that’s why I wasn’t in school today. Mom’s been freaking out at me because I wouldn’t tell her what happened, but he’s not back to normal, so I thought I’d try again, only a little less because I really don’t want a lecture again and…and why are you looking at me like that?”

He is staring at her in amazement, the kind that only just overrides his usual jealousy, because healing and medical ninjutsu are incredibly advanced and how does she even know what to do?

“There is something wrong with you,” he informs her.

She tenses up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how are you real?” he demands. “People aren’t like this! They aren’t so… You’re always nice and helpful and how do you have time to be like that when you’re so busy doing stuff like this?”

He gestures to the bird on her desk which makes a weak noise of indignation.

Sakura smiles now, that odd, almost patronizing smile of hers, like she’s somehow more mature than him. And not just in a four-months-older kind of way, but the way he’s seen his brother and older cousins look at him.

“I study a lot,” she tells him. “Not all of us are born geniuses, right?”

He can’t think of a thing to say to this.

“Was there something you wanted?” she goes on, and then in a sharper tone, “I thought I didn’t exist to you.”

He shifts uncomfortably at this.

“I…might have…I mean…I shouldn’t have…” Sasuke cringes because it shouldn’t be this hard to get the words out. Taking a steadying breath, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

An expression of absolute shock overtakes her features, and he finds—oddly enough—that it’s not a bad look on her. When it morphs into genuine pleasure, a sense of relief fills him.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” she says softly, a faraway look flitting through her eyes. “Thank you.”

Sasuke can’t help frowning at this because it all feels very backward. He feels as if he should be the one who’s thanking her. And not just for congratulating him the day earlier.

Why does she always make me feel like things are out of order?

Noticing the way he’s watching her, she prompts, “What?”

“You’re not like any of the other girls,” he tells her, a minor accusatory note in his voice.

She smirks at this. “Because I don’t make a big fuss over you?”

“No,” he insists quickly, the back of his neck turning red because he sort of means yes.

She laughs.

“I told you when we started at the Academy,” she reminds him. “I have feelings for you.” This time, hearing those words makes his stomach flip a little. “But I can’t let that get in the way of my training again. I’m going to become the most powerful kunoichi in the world one day. I’m going to help heal people and protect the ones who are precious to me. If I’m going to be ready, I have to put in the work now.”

And that, at least, is something he can understand. The need to become stronger, the need to live up to expectations, either one’s own or one’s family’s. It’s possible that maybe, just maybe, he and Sakura have more in common than he considered.

“Besides,” she adds, matter-of-factly, “if I’m going to marry you one day, I have to be the best.”

Sasuke’s brain stalls at this and he has to repeat her words in his head. “…Huh?!”

“Well, you’re an Uchiha,” she shrugs. “They’re not going to let you marry just anyone. I have to be better than everyone else, even all those talented girls in your clan.”

Sasuke scowls and crosses his arms. “No one is going to let me do anything. I can marry whoever I want. And even if I cared about that sort of thing, it wouldn’t be you.”

She shoots him a taunting look of disbelief, and he straightens up, fists now clenched.

“In fact, I’m going to become an even better shinobi—much more powerful than you’ll ever be. And then you’ll never be able to marry me!”

It’s not his strongest argument, he’s aware, but he just wants to provoke a reaction.

Instead, she considers him thoughtfully, the way his mother and brother look at him when he’s being stubborn or ridiculous. Then she tosses her hair and says, “Well, I guess there’s always Naruto.”

Sasuke sputters out an incomprehensible word and Sakura dissolves into a fit of giggles.

“Your face!” she cackles.

Sasuke’s entire body turn warm, and he should be annoyed, because no one mocks an Uchiha, but at the same time, he likes the sound of her laughter. It occurs to him that he doesn’t hear it very often. She is generous with her smiles, but he’s never heard her actually laugh around anyone in their class.

Slowly, the peals of laughter subside, and she calms herself. “Don’t worry,” she tells him. “I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t want. And who says I’ll ever get married? Lady Tsunade never got married and she’s one of the Sannin. Maybe I’ll be like her. There are worse things.” Something dark and pained crosses her features here, and in a quiet voice she adds, “I just want the people I care about to be happy.” Then she brightens up. “And that includes you, whether you like it or not.” Without waiting for his reply, she turns around and refocuses on the bird, reaching down with her tiny hands to check its wing.

Sasuke really has no idea what to say to this. This girl—this strange, utterly mystifying girl— keeps tripping him up. Just when he thinks he’s figured her out, she says something or does something that completely alters his perception of her.

It’s still utterly annoying.

For once, he wants to say something or do something that puts her off-balance. She’s always so resilient, always so sure of everything around her, as if she already knows exactly how things are going to turn out.

Perhaps that’s why he gives in to the first rash idea that comes to mind.

“Hey, Sakura.”

“Hm?”

When she turns to face him, quick as a snake, he leans over and closes the distance between them, pressing his mouth to hers. It’s a brief peck, and it’s clumsy—he only catches the corner of her mouth- but she freezes, entire body going utterly tense, and he can’t help do the same because he just kissed a girl on the mouth.

He pulls back, half-shocked, half-impressed by his own daring, and stares at her. Sakura’s eyes are wide, and slowly, ever so slowly, her face turns darker and darker, steadily matching her hair.

“S-Sasuke,” she whispers like she isn’t sure how to use her voice. “Why did you…”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, suddenly feeling the pressing need to get out of there. He backs away from her, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “If you tell anyone…”

“I-I won’t.” Sakura still seems too surprised and disbelieving. Maybe, if he’s lucky, she’ll think she imagined the whole thing.

Just in case she doesn’t, however, he jabs a finger at her when he reaches the door. “And this doesn’t mean I’m ever going to marry you!”

Without waiting for an answer, he yanks open the door and runs down the hallway, nearly knocking into Mebuki as she carries a tray of snacks up the stairs. He is desperate to get out of this weird house with its even weirder women and away from the strange girl who makes him do strange things.

Out the door and down the road, Sasuke coaches himself to run faster, to not stop until he’s back home where things always make sense. His mouth tingles oddly (not unpleasantly) and he feels the blood rushing to his face. He knows it’s not because he is running.

He doesn’t know what school is going to be like from now on. She might not say anything— he doubts she will; Sakura isn’t the type to embarrass people-but how is he supposed to look at her from now on? Was a brief moment of her being utterly stunned worth trying something so…ridiculous?

He casts his mind back, the image of her shocked, flustered expression permanently imprinted on his mind. A wan smirk of satisfaction tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Yes. Yes, it was.

Maybe he has found a new way to put her off balance after all.

終わり

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, but if you feel like keeping me caffeinated out of the goodness of your heart, it certainly would be appreciated! I’m also starting to post original works to my patreon.

I’m only able to keep writing as I do thanks to the support of readers like you, so every bit helps!

栗

[gwynne-fics]

wei50-blog replied to your post “A Hot Mess – Ye-Sol and Myung-Soo a walk Myung-Soo followed Ye-Sol...”

Fun seeing more wolf culture/ language!!! Yay! :) Awww, watching the two of them trying to work things out! Glad that Myung-Soo is thinking things through, but wonder about his decision to couple with Ye-Sol in the near future, even if her human voice is not back. Is he sure of his feelings? Would Ye-Sol’s more rational, human mind make a different choice, or maybe want to delay?

Myung-Soo isn’t sure of anything. He has a lot of theories but until he can talk to a Ye-Sol that remembers What Happened, he’s kind of in limbo. But since he can’t necessarily rely on her human voice coming back, he does have to decide if they are going to couple soon.

Because casual coupling is just what wolves do to pass the time.

And Myung-Soo is being offered something he always wanted--recognition he was good enough to couple with from one of the most sought after women in the pack. 

Progress! Ye-Sol is using more words and seems to be in better control of herself. Must be frustrating, though for the wolf to have to learn how to act like a human. At this time has she shifted to wolf and back to human again yet? If she wasn’t ready to come out of wolf form yet, would it help for her to go back to wolf form and stay there longer?

Human things don’t always make sense to the wolf, so Ye-Sol is struggling even though she’s doing better. She has not shifted back into her wolf body. Right now, everything is about Myung-Soo, and that’s why she tries to make the distinction between him wanting to couple with her human body but not wanting to couple with her wolf body.

Ye-Sol is afraid she won’t shift back to human if she goes back briefly into her wolf body.

Do love the Yoo pack, but definitely still issues maybe because Rachel is still a newer Alpha? So sad wolves look down on Myung-Soo, and he sees himself as a disabled wolf! (love the comment on his mom!) Wolf seems so part of Myung-Soo. Wonder if it is more of his immersion and training? Or possibly some wolf in him, because where would the long life come from? Also, not get tired after blue moon! When did they know he was more than ‘normal’ human?

Rachel is still getting her feet underneath her but already it is much better than it was under the False Alpha and those that remember her father, realize that she is ruling in his style, and they are eager to go back to that.

Myung-Soo had very loving parents, his mother is very protective of him and is constantly insisting that he’s not disabled, but even good parents cannot stop the influence of the world outside their home. Children can be cruel, especially when repeating things their parents have said around them. So he’s internalized some pretty awful attitudes. 

So, for wolves, Myung-Soo is a very confusing case. There haven’t been any other empty wolves that have assimilated into the culture as well as he has. His parents and the pack were certain he was a late bloomer because he developed the same way other wolf children did. He met all the other benchmarks for a healthy puppy--except shifting by the time he was four or five.

The not getting tired part started after the blue moon but he hasn’t told anyone yet.

Aww the puppies love Ye-Sol! They know she is not going to hurt them! Ye-Sol must be one of those who love pups/ children! She was the one tasked with protecting them during the blue moon, and it was one piece of what remained when she was in her wolf form for so long. Is part of why Ye-Sol’s human retreated because of guilt over not protecting Myung-Soo? Ye-Sol tried to save him, but did not succeed, or only partially succeeded?

Ye-Sol adores caregiving. She loves rolling around on the ground with the little pups and teaching them how to play and control their instincts. Rachel and Young-Do often took her out for walks when she was stuck and she played with the children at the park and also during the full moon. It wasn’t clear but Myung-Soo was also a little offended when the mom ask if Ye-Sol in her human skin was safe, because the implication is that humans aren’t as safe as wolves and he doesn’t really count as a wolf ^^;;

Guilt is part of the reason Ye-Sol’s human voice retreated but it isn’t guilt about not protecting Myung-Soo >.>

Ye-Sol sees Myung-Soo as a wolf, but doesn’t have wolf form? Actually good for Ye-Sol to spend time with Myung-Soo from a pure recovery view. Because he doesn’t smell her as a wolf can, she needs to use words with him. As opposed to when Rachel and Young-Do obviously smelled something alarming when Myung-Soo and Ye-Sol went back to the home. She is upset with him because he won’t accept her as his mate? Why is she afraid and doesn’t want to shift during the full moon?

Myung-Soo’s situation is very simple to Ye-Sol’s wolf (and Young-Do and Rachel feel this way too) because he smells like a wolf, he acts like a wolf, so he is a wolf. To Ye-Sol, the wolf body is unnecessary to being a wolf. And you’re right about recovery. Ye-Sol has to use words and can’t rely on scent so she’s forging greater communication skills.

But she is upset that she can smell that he wants to couple with her but is refusing to do anything to invite her. It feels like torture to her, because he wants to couple with her, knows that she wants to couple with him, but he’s refusing on grounds that she doesn’t understand. It’s like he’s being passive aggressive and playing games with her but she doesn’t know what she did to warrant it.

The question Young-Do asks is a loaded question, designed to give Myung-Soo an outlet for his feelings but Myung-Soo doesn’t take it because he’s hiding something from the Alpha and Second >.>

Hmm.. interesting even when Myung-Soo’s was a teen, he only wanted to couple with Ye-Sol or Yoo-Ra? (taboo because of age difference?) Now Myung-Soo’s feels fear about accepting Ye-Sol. Also see guilt that he feels responsible for why Ye-Sol’s human voice left? Hard for him, being this in between state… not fully wolf, not accepted fully in wolf world, not fully human, and not fully comfortable in human world.

Yoo-Ra and Myung-Soo are the same age, so it was considered natural for him to want to couple with her. He also had a huge crush on Ye-Sol. Even though she was so much older, it was considered a natural crush because she was the most sought after woman in the pack and coupled regularly with Young-Do. (There were a lot of people that assumed Ye-Sol and Young-Do would eventually mate. So to see her go from Young-Do, the strong and incredibly virile and noble Second, to Myung-Soo a disabled wolf, made a lot of people uncomfortable.)

Myung-Soo does feel guilty for Ye-Sol’s human voice leaving. That will be revealed more later.

Decided wolf/ wolf coupling does happen! Why would wolf pairs chose to couple in one form vs. another?

The wolf body coupling usually only occurs between permanently mated couples during the full moon. There is a cultural belief that it is easy to get pregnant with strong wolf puppies that way. (Also explains why Won’s pack doesn’t like mating with humans because they can’t do this.)

Rachel and Hyo-Shin will couple this way when they are ready to start their family because it is normal to want sex in whatever body you’re in.

As you can imagine, this is difficult for Myung-Soo on some levels, because he feels like a wolf but doesn’t have the body.

And we still need to know what Happened and why it makes being together so complicated! Impatient to know! Because something about that night is an impediment to her now! So many hints just make me more eager to know more!!! The scars, Elder Do, why would the one set of scars not appear right away, Myung-Soo’s memories, and that particular scar on his shoulder that faded?!?!!??

So, all I will comment on is what the takeaway from this chapter was supposed to be ^^;; 

Myung-Soo has two scars--one on his chest where it looks like a wild animal tried to claw out his heart, and one on his right shoulder that appeared after What Happened and looks like a mating mark. The reason it is fading is because it wasn’t a permanent mating blessed by the Alpha or the pack. It was a personal but temporary mark, like the one that Rachel and Hyo-Shin give each other the morning he finds out that she’s the Alpha. Because they are wolves, their healing ability, over time, removes the mark, allowing them to end the relationship if they don’t want to permanently mate.

Eun-Sang & Young-Do

Thank you! <3!!! So happy our lovely YoungSang couple gets back together! (When do we get to see more of the process? :) ) Yes! Eun-Sang gets her formal human proposal! Love how Young-Do is trying so hard to finally do things right! Doing things that are meaningful for you partner, even if they aren’t for you so important. Showing love to them in a way they understand and accept best also key!!! :)

Rachel was right. He could fix his relationship with Eun-Sang but he had to want it more than anything else. Once he figured that out, he did everything he could not to squander this opportunity.

(I can make no promises about more ficlets for them, but I do have ideas and I am running out of requests ^^;;)

Haha, I can totally see Young-Do spending his time researching human dating, engagement, and marriage! <3 So great to see Young-Do embracing Eun-Sang’s human! Hope we get to see her getting to know and fully embracing Young-Do’s wolf too! (and more convos with Hyun-Joo!!!)

He definitely has been doing his homework. He’s been paying attention to the wolves with human mates to watch how they changed to accept their human. He also (unbeknownst to Ji-Hyuk) studied that relationship to see what about it made Eun-Sang so happy.

I will keep these things in mind!

The ring sound lovely! Wish we could see a pic of it! They have a unique relationship that needs a unique ring. Yay, glad Young-Do communicating closely with his wolf again! Love that he was so excited, he had to show other wolves, even though they very much didn’t understand. <3 (but were still happy for him!)

The ring is a cross between these two styles I came across on tumblr. In the story, there are more precious metals and stones involved but these were my inspiration.

He was so proud of himself for picking that ring >.>

Glimpse of MyungSol! Yes, given what we know now about Myung-Soo, I don’t wonder that Ye-Sol is jealous, since human women were the reason he even contemplated staying in the human world! The casualness of coupling still throws me sometimes! So part of culture that the two men can have this easygoing exchange. Wonder if this is aspect of wolf culture is still something Eun-Sang would find harder to accept at this time?

That was a very good natured conversation between two men who have been with the same woman. Myung-Soo is only teasing Young-Do and he’s taking it in good fun. It’s a normal scenario among a group of people who live a long time and don’t mind experimenting to find the best relationship. Once you take away the shame of casual sex, I would hope we would get something like this.

This is probably the part Eun-Sang struggles with the most. Young-Do is jealous of Ji-Hyuk but he doesn’t outwardly behave that way. He doesn’t punish or get angry at Eun-Sang for being in that relationship. When Ji-Hyuk leaves the resort (shortly before Hyo-Shin shows up) there are literally no hard feelings and she’s just not used to it not being a big deal.

Even though, she’s very relieved, that it wasn’t a big deal. Feelings are complicated!

Young-Do got Hee-Nam’s approval!?!? How did that meeting go? Was there more than one meeting because he (and possibly Eun-Sang had to help!) had to convince her? After all, Eun-Sang was very broken and Young-Do caused her so much pain. Can’t imagine any mother looking with favor on a man who first shacked up with her daughter, then left her for a long period of time, and now wants to be with her again? (wait, don’t tell me if possible drabble!!!) :D

He did manage to get Hee-Nam’s approval but it was not easy. In Hee-Nam’s eyes, he was too casual with her daughter, because he was no meeting the important benchmarks of a human relationship. She didn’t think he was willing to take responsibility for Eun-Sang in a way that she recognized.

But you’re right. On the outside, he did not look good. And I’ll save the rest for future drabbles.

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - Elevator Ride

Hey guys. I wrote this story a couple of days ago and it probably deserved more decent editing by me. Since I’m on a train to Scotland doing basically nothing, I’ve decided to post it. :)

Thank you @jia911​ for your reliable support and proofreading!

This story is from the series My Boys Drabbles but it can also be read as a independent one shot.

The Prompt:

The lovely @bluebelle18 asked to write a story about Owen getting really angry at Amelia.

Timeline:

This happens before they had kids, after ‘Sunburn’ and ‘Pest Infestation’.

  My Boys Drabbles – Elevator Ride

 “Hey, Jim!” Amelia barged in the radiology room where the neurosurgery team usually gathered every Tuesday morning to discuss cases. “How was the weekend?” She playfully asked, suggestively giving her colleague a pat on the shoulder and a dirty gaze. “Yeah, look at that womanizer face you got there… I bet you had some fun!”

Jim Nelson gave her one mortified look that made Amelia crack up laughing. She loved to tease the other attending and that was no secret. Seeing her colleague’s usual lack of response, Amelia was about to add another teasing comment when her husband stormed into the room.

“I need you, ER, now,” He demanded, without offering any explanation.

Amelia frowned and looked puzzled from Jim Nelson to the door, but Owen had already left. Without much of a choice, she excused herself and followed his trail, wondering what in the world could justify Owen being in a hurry like that.

.

“You stay close and make sure you have your kits on you all the time,” Owen commanded, pacing back and forth to make sure the whole team was properly geared up. “Don’t forget to add the appropriate tags so patients can be removed after they were assessed,” He reinforced for the third time, taking one last look at the team of five doctors who were in the transport with him.

Owen made individual eye contact with each one, receiving affirmative nods in return. It was no surprise people were following his lead, considering his entire background. Owen Hunt was good in critical situations and everyone knew that. To have a strong, imposing leader like him inspiring trust and confidence was comforting for the team of surgeons who were just about to take big risks in a massive accident location.

Not twenty minutes before, the trauma team of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital had been called in for help. A building had collapsed five blocks away from the hospital due to a gas explosion and there were dozens of victims at the scene. Pretty much every unit of firefighters, paramedics and trained policemen had been designated to the field but because of the severe injury of most patients, the situation demanded more trained personnel.

As chief of trauma, Owen had stepped up and assembled a team he believed would be up to the task. Riggs and Avery went as seniors attendings, overseeing Deluca and Wilson while doing their job. Meanwhile, April Kepner stayed back in the ER dealing with the overflowing influx of patients. Owen knew a neurosurgeon would be much needed and his first thought had been to spare his wife, instinctively preferring to leave her back within the safety of the hospital. But once he realized the other attendings weren’t up to her talent and skills, Owen reconsidered for the sake of the patients on the accident scene.

“Does everyone have their pagers?” Owen asked. “Alright people, stay safe and don’t go anywhere the firefighters haven’t secured yet. If you need help, page or run back here.”

Giving Riggs one final nod, Owen got off the car, knowing him and the other former army surgeon would lead others by example. Soon after, Owen was too caught up in work to be thinking about that, but every once in a while his eyes would search across the field for his team.

After at least three hours of intensive work, Owen let out a sigh of exhaustion and satisfaction, noticing the last critical patient being removed from the scene. The rescue team had completely evacuated the building and the only victims still there were stable enough to wait for an ambulance. Scanning the location with his well trained eyes, he quickly spotted Avery by one corner taking care of burnt victims as Riggs helped Deluca transport an overweight patient. Jo Wilson was doing sutures near the ambulance parking lot and Owen continued his search, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife.

When he realized she was nowhere in sight, Owen nervously started to pace around, telling himself to remain calm. He asked the others if they’d seen Amelia, but all his colleagues said they hadn’t in a while. Doing his best to control a wave of bad feelings that had suddenly taken over him, Owen took large strides closer to the building site, away from where the victims had previously been securely located.

“Hey, have you seen the neurosurgeon on my team?” He asked one of the policemen who was keeping the perimeter of the place. “She’s about 5 foot 4, dark hair, blue eyes…?” Owen frantically searched around while he described her.

“No, doc, I haven’t, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to step back,” The officer said very seriously. “This area isn’t secure yet.”

Owen nodded affirmatively but he was hardly paying any attention. Feeling his stomach churning in discomfort, he searched around, trying to catch sight of his wife as he asked around about her. Half way through scanning the building perimeter, he noticed a small crowd that formed around one of the broken pillars of the construction. People were whispering nervously, as if speculating, and Owen somehow knew that he wasn’t going to like what he would see.

“What’s going on?” He approached the group from behind, trying to be heard through the wailing sirens and the screaming firefighters.

“Some crazy woman got inside one of the elevators,” A fame police officer raised her voice trying to compensate for the loud helicopter blades not too far from them. “The firefighters are trying to get her out now, but it seems like something snapped and the doors are crooked. I’m not sure they can get her out without compromising the structure of the building.”

Owen felt chills on his spine and he didn’t even need to look to know. Something was telling him exactly where he would find Amelia.

Ignoring all orders to stay back, Owen marched towards the pillar, pushing people out of the way that tried to stop him. When he finally made it to the inside of the building, amidst all the dust and bricks he saw the small hole on the wall through which two firefighters tried keeping a conversation with someone.

“Sir, you can’t go in…!” A firefighter stepped forward to stop Owen.

“It’s my wife in there!” Owen snapped, completely ignoring the orders. He bent down in front of the scene, squinting to take a good look through all the dirt. “Amelia?!”

In a fraction of a second, something grey moved inside the elevator but just as suddenly, two familiar bright blue eyes looked up and Owen let out a sigh of deep concern.

“I’m coming out!” Her voice sounded optimistic and comforting, even though she was the one in the dangerous position.

“Amelia, what are you doing in there?” Owen angrily stretched his neck to take a better view of her face. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m nearly done,” She replied, without explaining any further.

Owen looked from his wife’s eyes to the firefighters squatting beside him. Both men returned his look of absolute confusion, letting the trauma surgeon know they were just as oblivious as to why Amelia had jumped in there.

“Listen, doctor, you need to let me get you out!” One of them spoke again. “This pillar is very unstable and if it doesn’t hold there’s a big chance this ceiling is going to collapse right above where you are.”

“I’m in a metal box,” Amelia’s voice sounded muffled when she replied, as if it made her safe.

“No, you don’t get it,” The firefighter patiently tried to explain. “It is going to collapse and it when it does, you will…”

“Amelia, damn it!” Owen furiously snapped, interrupting everyone. “Get out of there, right the hell now!” He ordered, in a tone of voice that accepted no refusal.

Both firefighters looked up to the tense husband, their eyes wide with apprehension. Owen was about to crouch down and forcefully grab Amelia up, risking jeopardizing the whole structure, when she finally brought her face up, staring at the rescue team with a smile.

“Done!” She said, with what looked like a mix of happiness and relief. “I’m done!”

Before any of the men could ask what she was talking about, Amelia lifted up her arms and handed out what looked like a mass of wrapped blankets. Only when it discreetly moved that the rescuers realized it was a baby.

“She’s still breathing but she was trapped upside down in the stroller!” Amelia raised her voice to be heard in through the hole. “I think she must have cried herself to exhaustion and she definitely looks dehydrated… Here, take her.”

One of the firefighters got the baby and handed her out to a paramedic, who quickly evacuated the child from the scene. Owen was running his hand through his hair in frustration, looking from the pillar to the elevator hole, desperate for his wife to get out of there as soon as possible.

He saw a firefighter reaching out to hold her as Amelia swiftly moved her body up, crawling through a gap very few adults would be able to fit. She was almost fully outside when Owen’s heart skipped a beat as he watched her foot getting stuck in the gap between the doors. The trauma surgeon took one step forward, determined to help when he saw his wife forcing her way outside, pulling her leg with so much strength that the elevator slowly lost its balance.

Everything happened too fast and before Owen could catch up with the situation, heavy blocks of cement fell a few meters from where they were standing. The thick dust quickly ascended, preventing him from seeing much else. Two people screamed at the same time and instinctively, Owen bounced forward, grabbing his wife’s hand before he could completely lose her out of sight.

“Amelia…!” Owen cried out with a broken voice, fearing for the worst.

The fraction of second that came after felt like an eternity. Owen felt like an entire movie was playing in his head and he saw countless scenes playing in his mind.

“I’m fine,” Her distinctive voice resonated, allowing Owen to properly breathe again. “I’m out, I made it out.”

The trauma surgeon felt his entire body relaxing at the sound of her words but he didn’t stay calm for long. Furiously maintaining the hold on her hand, Owen helped her get up, protectively wrapping one arm around her shoulders while leading the way for the two of them.

The minute their stepped foot outside, reveling at the dust free cold fresh air, Owen blocked the way, standing up with his hands on his hips furiously staring at her.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Amelia looked up and met her husband’s angry, cold eyes. Owen was a tall, broad shouldered man, but when he was mad, he looked twice as big, engulfing her with his presence like a predator about to surround a prey. His voice sounded controlled but Amelia could distinguish the tone of contained rage it had.

“There was a baby inside there and…”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Owen interrupted her, taking one step forward as he grabbed her arm with his hand at the same time he forced eye contact with her. Amelia noticed how his crystal blue eyes, usually so serene and calm were now sparkling with fury. “Have you lost your mind?”

Amelia dodged his contact irritably, taking one step back to get away from his reach. She wasn’t sure who was talking to her at that moment: her husband, her boss or an army official. She supposed an unpleasant mix of both.

“I did what I had to do!” She snapped back, feeling angry at his exaggerated reaction. “Owen, there was a baby inside that elevator and if I hadn’t gone in there, she would probably be dead by now,” Amelia reasoned, trying to make him see it through her eyes.

As scary as it had been, the minute she’d heard the little girl crying, Amelia had stopped thinking completely. Realizing the gap between the elevator doors and the floor were too small to let one of the firefighters in, she had called one of them to help her out and before the guy could stop her, Amelia had slid inside through the gap, quickly finding the baby.

The little girl was trapped in the seat belt of her stroller, with her chest and hips angled in a dangerous position. There was no adult in sight and Amelia wondered what the hell had happened to justify a baby being alone in an elevator but before she could gather her thoughts together, her skilled hands were already working their way to unbuckle the child without compromising the integrity of the baby’s spine.

“A building has collapsed, you could have died!” Owen complained, unable to deal with her apparent serenity.

“It wouldn’t have fallen if my foot didn’t get stuck,” Amelia argued, as if it was obvious. “Besides, I saved a kid’s life!” She yelled, seeing Owen running his fingers through his hair in clear frustration. “You have no reason to be mad at me!”

“Are you okay?” He ignored her completely, taking two steps in her direction at the same time he held her face between his hands, carefully scanning her body for bruises. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine!” Amelia pulled apart aggressively, too mad at him to care about it. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?  I can’t believe you’re making a thunderstorm out of this.”

When Owen looked up to meet her eyes, it was clear in his expression that he wasn’t the least bit touched by her words.

“We’ll talk more at home,” His voice once again sounded calm, but his tone was slightly alarming, as if reprimanding a clueless child.

Amelia opened her mouth to reply in outrage when, without another word, Owen turned his back to her and took large strides towards the team of doctors.

.

Amelia didn’t hear much from him on the way back to the hospital. Riggs, Avery and Wilson went on ambulances but she took the hospital car back with her husband and Deluca.

The intern seemed particularly uncomfortable with the utter silence during the entire trip back. The only time one of them spoke was when Owen gave directions to the driver. As soon as they arrived at their destination, the trauma surgeon left the car, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

Amelia noticed the inquiring look Deluca gave to her but she ignored him completely. It was driving her insane that Owen was actually mad. Minutes after he left her talking by herself, a woman in her mid thirties came running in her direction, thanking her for saving her daughter’s life. According to the woman, her babysitter had just been getting into the elevator with her daughter when the explosion hit. Unfortunately, the babysitter had been severely hurt, being quickly brought to the hospital when they found her by the corridor. The stroller had turned around, protecting the baby from the blast, but also preventing anyone from finding her.

If Amelia hadn’t heard the weak cries, it was very possible that the child would have been dead when they did find her. What she’d done had been a great, brave thing, even if it was considerably dangerous. Amelia refused to let her husband’s sour mood eclipse the fact that the baby was now safe, which, in her head, was all that mattered.

.

Amelia went home alone that evening because Owen had to stay back with a pile of paperwork to fill. It was past ten in the evening when she heard the sound of his footsteps entering the bedroom. She had mentally prepared herself for another battle. Owen had authoritatively said they’d talk more at home and never for a second had she doubted it meant he would finish ranting at her in the privacy of their house.

To her uttermost surprise, Owen walked in the bedroom and simply ignored her, stopping only to get clean pajama pants and a shirt before getting into the bathroom. Amelia frowned heavily but decided to stay in the comfort of the bed, trying to keep busy with some reading but she was far too distracted.

Telling herself she wasn’t anxious, which was a big fat lie, Amelia patiently waited for her husband to return to their room. She had seen Owen angry a few times before, and he had even been nasty and rude with her in one or two occasions, but she didn’t remember a time when he’d been this mad at her. And Amelia honestly couldn’t tell which was worst, having her husband shouting angry words or being icily glared at while he didn’t say a word.

Even though Owen was very intimidating when he was mad, Amelia did her absolute best to be the most insubordinate as possible. Her husband was very bossy and he could easily incorporate his typical army general attitude, which absolutely set her off. And despite deep down knowing he would never do anything such as physically hurt her, Amelia couldn’t help feeling alarmed by his powerful figure.

Owen interrupted her thoughts when he entered the room, visibly being just out of the shower. His hair still had droplets of water but he looked the total opposite of relaxed. His jaw was fiercely clenched and a heavy frown was lurking in his forehead as he breathed out through his nose, visibly struggling to contain himself.

“Oh, for God’s sake, just say it already,” Amelia lost her patience, seeing he was fuming with anger.

“I can’t believe you actually think you have any excuse in this situation,” Owen seriously replied, looking at her with disbelief. “You literally crawled inside the elevator of a collapsed building, risking your freaking life and you actually think you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Owen, I…”

“No!” He interrupted his wife, furiously looking at her while he pulled the covers on his side of the bed. “Do you have any idea what was going on in my mind when I found out you were inside that elevator?” Owen asked, giving up trying to contain his anger. Amelia noticed the vein pulsating on his temple at the same time his face was flushed red with rage. “Did you stop for a second to think that you could have killed yourself? That I could have been there to witness it?” He angrily hissed, too mad to let her talk. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I thought that ceiling had collapsed with you still inside that elevator?”

Amelia looked up to meet her husband’s gaze and for the first time, she saw beyond the anger. Owen’s eyes were scintillating with fury, but there was a distinguished shadow of concern and genuine worry. Amelia couldn’t explain why, but at that moment, she was deeply touched and in a matter of seconds, most of her anger was gone.

“I didn’t think, I’m sorry,” Amelia humbly admitted, now fully understanding why he was being so unreasonable about the situation.

Owen frowned harder, completely surprised by her honest apology. He expected Amelia to stubbornly insist she’d done nothing wrong while he spent all night trying to make her see why she couldn’t act as impulsively as she had.

“You are?” He swallowed hard, wondering if she was setting him up.

“I can’t imagine how worried you felt when you saw me there, so yeah, I’m sorry,” She sheepishly added, breaking eye contact with him out of embarrassment.

“Well…” Owen seemed lost for words. “Thank you,” He nodded once with his head, still looking too serious and too grumpy to inspire sympathy in his wife.

Devotion and care weren’t things Amelia was very used to and realization hit her too intensely, turning her feelings into a giant mess. At the same time Amelia was too proud to say another word, she was also mortified by his concern. As far as she could tell, no one in her life had ever loved her enough to stand up to her like that, not giving in to her argumentative manipulation and emotional blackmailing. The things Owen made her feel were far too new but somehow, Amelia felt like they were painfully familiar, as if she’d been lacking them all along. It was all too overwhelming and afraid she’d break down, the neurosurgeon turned around in bed, hugging her pillows like a child seeking comfort in a security blanket.

Not too long after, Amelia felt Owen gently lying down next to her, even though they weren’t touching. It felt weird to lie down on the same bed as someone without saying a word. Amelia wondered if that happened often in most marriages. Long minutes of silence followed, in which Amelia stay immersed in her own thoughts, trying to decipher the feelings that had suddenly assaulted her.

With his anger, Owen had made her feel patronized, but his worry and care had driven her to feel strangely important. The way he’d imposed himself, at times not giving her the chance to talk, had very much made it seem like he was lecturing her. Amelia knew indifference and neglect, but she had never been so familiar with such generous concern before, to the point of rejecting it at first, just to test if it was really real.

“I’ve heard the baby is fine and was brought to the PICU,” Owen’s voice broke the silence, as he patiently informed her.

Even though she had her back turned to him, Amelia could tell he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with his fingers intertwined above his abdomen.

“Yes, I’ve heard,” She sheepishly agreed, unsure of what to say.

It was rare for the two of them to feel so awkward around each other and that heavy atmosphere was startling Amelia. She had no idea what else to say, but she couldn’t bear that silence any longer.

“She’s going to make it,” Owen’s voice surprised Amelia at the same time she was thinking of what to say.

“I’m glad she is,” Amelia replied, reaching her limit. Slowly, she turned around, searching for his eyes.

She found Owen in the exact position she imagined him to be. He twitched his lips restlessly, obviously feeling just as awkward as she was. The image of his obvious discomfort suddenly felt too hilarious and Amelia had to remind herself why they’d been fighting in the first place.

“What?” Owen asked with corner smile, contaminated by the mirth on her face.

“Nothing,” Amelia lied, unable to hold her laughter any longer. “It’s just that you really suck at small talk.”

Owen’s facial expression softened as he couldn’t help cracking up at her playful offense. Rolling his eyes in defeat, he took a deep breath, still smiling at his wife.

“I thought I’d lose you today,” He explained when her laughter had subsided. “I can’t, Amelia, I…” He struggled with his words, having a hard time explaining his feelings. “Just please don’t ever do something like that, again, okay?”

Amelia nodded with a sympathetic smile, touched by the progress of his attitude. After carefully thinking and rationally analyzing the situation, she admitted she really had acted on an impulse and that could have cost her life. Amelia could have simply notified the firefighters and asked for help but she had instinctively jumped inside the wreckage and if Owen had done something similar, she now realized it would deeply worry her too.

“Okay,” Amelia smiled, void of any residual anger. Slowly, she moved in his direction, wrapping an arm around his chest.

Owen welcomed her in his embrace, idly stroking his wife’s back as he finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.

“You drive me crazy sometimes, you know?” Owen let out a heavy sigh, looking at his wife with a conformed smile on his face. The adorable look on her face as she showed off her dimples already said it all.

“Yeah, I know.”

.

“What?”Amelia asked in frustration. It had been exactly one week since Owen had interrupted the Tuesday morning Neurosurgery clinical session and she could not believe her eyes when she saw her husband once again walking in there to summon her.

Owen smiled at her disbelief and discreetly led her to one corner, so the session could go on at the same time he talked to her.

“We’re not going to the field again today, are we?” Amelia widened her eyes in shock, wondering what was so important that Owen had to come for her again. “I’ll send Nelson this time,” She threatened.

“Don’t be silly,” Owen replied with an amused smile and explained. “Not sure if you know this but your brother once removed a neurofibroma from Webber’s optic nerve. He says he woke up this morning with a blurry vision but now he feels fine.” The trauma surgeon explained, trying to keep the information private. “Anyway, I saw his scans and it all looks clear but he is insisting that you go take a look at them as soon as possible. Catherine Avery is on his back about it and there might be a domestic incident soon if you don’t come,” Owen added, knowing the chief was probably overreacting.

Amelia processed the information, her mind already racing with other possible causes for the former chief’s symptom but she did as asked and followed her husband to the corridor.

“So…” Owen kept his hands inside his white coat pockets as he gently nudged his wife’s delicate shoulders with his own. “Would you really send out Nelson this time if it was a field call?” He asked with a teasing shine on his eyes. “Babe, you have to stop bullying him…”

“What?” Amelia asked with fake outrage. “I’m the most supportive of all! I’m actually the only one that talks to him in the entire department.”

“Does he talk back?” Owen raised both eyebrows at her, seeing that the answer was no in her eyes and proving his point. “He is afraid of you.”

“You’re crazy,” Amelia rolled her eyes, disregarding his opinion.

“He is intimidated,” Owen affirmed, with conviction. “He is not used to women talking to him, let alone a woman like you. Leave the poor guy alone,” He added with good humor. “And I doubt you’d send him if there was a next time.”

“Of course not,” Amelia pretended to be serious. “I couldn’t risk it.” As she realized Owen was confused to the meaning of her words, she carried on with her act. “I have to confess something, babe, and it’s gonna hurt,” She hid her smile by leaning forward to press the elevator button. “Jim Nelson and I have been having an affair right under your nose all this time.”

“Oh, really?” Owen scoffed, caught off guard by her joke.

“Yes,” Amelia said with fake indifference, trying her hardest not to laugh at Owen’s facial expression. “What can I say? I dig a hairy guy.”

That was all it took for Owen to give in to laughter and playfully pinch her waist before they exited the elevator towards the ER.

“I don’t even know what’s worse,” Owen confessed mirthfully. “Sending you to another field mission or having to picture you and Nelson together in my head.” He scowled, visibly disgusted by the idea.

“Well,” Amelia playfully said, dodging his reach right before she opened the door to the exam room where Webber was at. “Then I suggest you avoid the fifth floor on call room on Tuesday mornings.”

Owen laughed and shook his head in denial. Every day, his wife proved to be a box of surprises more and more. She was impulsive, didn’t analyze risks properly and had a serious problem with authority. But he could see beyond that and admired her kind heart, her generosity and freedom of spirit.

Amelia did drive him crazy sometimes but she also made him laugh like no one else ever had. Living with ease and spontaneity was something Amelia had introduced him to. He couldn’t imagine what life without her felt like anymore.

And luckily for Owen, he would never have to find out.

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