#would explain why she was acting so lethargic when i moved her too. she was in premolt. and i'm an idiot

[ratcandy]

accidentally interrupted Whisk post-molt I need to be tossed into the sky

[kimvvantae]

puzzle; 7 (m)

➜  you and jungkook are best friends of a lifetime, even though your personalities are like unmatching pieces of a puzzle. the line between friendship and something more has never been crossed between you two - but that changes after a break up and a drunken night, when you not-so-accidentally cross this line to something much more. what happens when after this accident your non-matching puzzle pieces seem to match in a way you’ve never imagined?

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: smut, angst, comedy; friends with benefits au; college au

warnings: lots of swearing, a little bit of violence

rating: 18+

word count: 12k

A/N: sweet jesus it’s been so long but it’s finally here! this is the last but one chapter of the series. i genuinely hope you guys enjoy it and i reeeeally want to know your thoughts on it! feel free to leave a comment! if you feel i’m deserving of it lmao

enjoy!

➜  Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

« playlist »

[bby bear]: where are you???

[bby bear]: you'll get late for class 

[you]: i knoww

[you]: the traffic is so heavy today 🤦🤦

[bby bear]: you should have come w me 

[you]: i need to go to the bank

[you]: i told you

[bby bear]: i could have taken u theer

[bby bear]: there

[you]: 🥺🥺 next time i'll go w you i promise!!

[you]: but i'm close

[you]: i'll probably lose the first period tho

[bby bear]: 🤦

You shove the phone inside of your pocket when you notice the pedestrian sign is finally green. The crowd on both sides of the avenue rush, everyone on their fast pace as usual. You're even forced to push some people in order to walk by.

Getting to the other side of the street, you stop in front of the building.

Tall as fuck. That cool kind of building with mirrors all over it, where only cool people wearing cool suits walking around holding cups of coffee on one hand and phones on the other hand talking business language kind of people work at. 

You certainly don't work here. You definitely don't have any stuff to do here. You surely are not close to the campus and you will lose much more than just the first period.

Seulgi will most definitely punch your face when she finds out where you are and what you're about to do.

You confidently walk inside the building, pushing through its glass doors into the pristine, modern and gigantic main hall. Your black boots contrast with the high heels all the other women wear around you. So does the rest of your outfit. Mini skirts and oversized hoodies are not part of the dress code here. You can almost hear their minds asking, what is this person doing here? The clanck clanck sound of their heels clicking against the marble floor is somehow pleasing, though.

You stop in front of the reception counter. A pretty girl opens a crystal white smile to you. Her hair is tied tightly, her uniform was ironed to perfection. "Good morning. How can I help you?" She chirps happily. 

"Good morning. My name is Y/N. I'd like to talk to Irene."

The smile quickly falters.

The girl side eyes her colleague that sits by her side. "Hmm… unfortunately, Miss Irene does not receive visits," she says carefully, still trying to keep her smile. "You must be mistaken."

You can see this girl thinks you're crazy. You quickly realize that people usually don't come at the reception and simply say they want to talk to Irene. But, well, what else would you do? You have to announce your presence somehow. 

"Irene is waiting for me. You can call her and ask if you want," you insist. 

The receptionist looks pale for a moment.

Hesitantly, she takes the phone and dials a number. You can still see that the girl thinks you're lying; she's probably ready to call the security guards. During her quick talk on the phone, you notice she's not talking to Irene, but with her secretary. 

You also see the moment her eyes widen.

She hangs up the phone and stands up, smiling widely again.

"Miss Y/N, Irene is waiting for your arrival," she says, and you notice the slight tone of panic in her voice. "Please, accompany me."

All the other visitors have to show their identifications and take a quick picture on the reception, you notice, but the girl simply ignores this procedure with you, guiding you to the elevator instead. She explains the situation to the security guard and he lets you in. The receptionist still looks slightly panicked. She's probably scared that you'll complain how the receptionist was rude to me directly to Irene, but you won't. Poor girl was just doing her job.

The elevator is big, too. It has a panoramic view of the city as it goes up to one of the highest floors. 

You always thought Seulgi was overreacting when she said how bad she sometimes felt for dating Irene, but now you kind of understand her.

You knew Irene was rich. You can recognize a Gucci jacket when you see one, and you've seen Irene wearing plenty of these. But Irene always acted so normal. Sure, she was elegant - and sometimes even arrogant -, but she was still someone very pleasant to be around. She never looked disgusted to be in your tiny but comfy apartment, she never made faces when she'd sometimes wear some of Seulgi's or your clothes when she didn't bring any to spend the night, she never complained to eat the junk food you'd buy for dinner. She was just… chill.

Because of that, you'd forget that she's rich sometimes.

Being in this massive building where everyone acted as if she was a princess made you remember, though.

Irene is beyond rich. Your standard of "rich" used to be Joy: someone that has a cool, big house in a nice part of the city. Irene partially owns a fucking company. She's so chill that you never even bothered to Google the company's name; you did this today to get the address, and it only made you more shocked.

Seulgi must have felt overwhelmed many times in their relationship.

But you're sure she was much happier back then than she is now.

You're used to their drama. They were already dating when you first met Seulgi, and you saw this cycle repeating many times. This time, though, things are not happening as usual. Seulgi is the saddest you’ve ever seen in these almost three years of convivence. Right after they broke up, you thought she was just being dramatic as usual… now you see that it isn’t simple drama. She’s actually sad and has been in this state for months. She doesn’t go out anymore, stopped doing the things she liked… she even got tired of Netflix. That’s probably the most shocking fact of all. 

Jungkook said you shouldn’t get involved in this, but you’re tired of seeing your friend being so sad all the time.

Their breakup was messy this time. They didn’t talk properly, didn’t make things clear. Seulgi is too stubborn to make a move (she’s totally lethargic at this point, both physically and spiritually), and Irene also seems too stubborn. Since none of them has the balls to do anything, you finally decided to step up and take action.

(Funny how you thought Jimin was annoying for trying to push you and Jungkook together, but you’re doing the exact same thing right now).

Well, look, you’re not exactly trying to push them into each other. First, you want to know Irene’s feelings and opinions on this situation. If you see that she has really moved on from Seulgi, then you’re ready to give your friend all the comfort and support in the world so she finally moves on. If Irene shows you that she still has feelings for Seulgi… well…

The speed in which she replied to your DM is a strong indicative of that.

The way her eyes glint with undeniable hope when the elevator doors open and she greets you is another indicative.

Irene looks gorgeous as always; she’s like a human version of Snow White. It’s kind of funny to meet her in her office like this. She’s almost like a female and hotter version of Christian Grey. 

Her ways of greeting you are polite and… hesitant. You understand why. She probably doesn’t get what you’re doing here in the first place, what you want to talk about. Considering you’re Seulgi’s friend, she must think you’d be mad at her or something.

“Why didn’t you call me, Y/N? My guests never enter from the common hall.” she asked. Oh. Common hall is what that massive hall is called. Almost like peasants area.

“I didn’t know.” you simply say, shrugging. 

“I’m sorry that we’re meeting here at my workplace. It feels too profissional, doesn’t it?” she smiles sheepishly.

Well… it does. You don’t even feel comfortable enough to move around her great office, afraid that you’d accidentally break anything (you’re sure that every little piece in this room is much more expensive than you’d be able to afford). 

“Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria. I think it’ll be more comfortable to talk there.” she politely suggests, and you just agree with her.

Irene guides you around the halls. This floor is less crowded, since only Important People with Important Tasks work here - and she’s greeted by all of them as she passes by. Their eyes immediately float to you, and they were surely asking themselves why Princess Irene was being followed by this peasant. 

The cafeteria in question is as pretty and neatly clean as the rest of the building. Soft music plays from the speakers. Irene chooses a more private table by the windows and asks if you want to have breakfast; you politely decline and both of you end up ordering simple cups of coffee. 

An uncomfortable silence lingers in the air.

"I… have to confess that I got surprised when I saw your DM," Irene speaks softly. Her eyes are glued on her cup of coffee. "It's been a while."

"Yeah." 

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine." a hundred different scenes pass on your head as she asks this, and you know that you feel anything but fine in the moment, but it's not as if you'll rant about your complicated love life right now. "But I'm sure you don't want to ask about me."

You see a shade of pink flush Irene's cheeks.

"Well… I don't think it would be right to ask about her." Irene says.

"Why not? It's not as if you didn't know I came here to talk about Seulgi."

"But she doesn't want to know about me."

You're left speechless for a few seconds.

It's funny to see the two sides of a breakup. Because of their stubborness, they became completely out of tune with each other. Irene thought that Seulgi didn't want to know about her, when you knew pretty damn well that Seulgi stalked her social media an unhealthy amount of times per day.

You cross your arms and lean your back on the chair. Irene looks hesitant, but you see she's eager to know whatever information you may have. That's not the behavior of someone that hates their ex.

"Can I ask you something?" you say. It's funny how Irene, the owner of pretty much everything around you, looks so cornered by you, her shoulders shrinking visibly. She nods softly. "Why did you guys break up? I mean, what's your side of the story?"

Irene sighs and passes her hand through her dark hair. She looks out the window. She doesn't seem irritated by your ask. She just seems… thoughtful.

It makes you realize that, perhaps, Seulgi's not the only one feeling broken here.

"We're… different." she starts quietly. "I have been trying to keep this relationship working for a long time, you know. Even though we argued a lot and disagreed about many things. But…" Irene sighs again. Sadness shadows her features. "It was getting hard. Seulgi never accepted my help. She knows that money is no problem for me, and I just wanted to help, but why did she act so angry every time I wanted to help you guys?"

Oh.

You don't miss the way she said "help you guys"; she must be talking about the times both of you were struggling to pay the rent. Oh God. You clearly see where their opinions diverge. Irene has always been rich; she saw money as something simple, giving money to others wasn't a big deal. Meanwhile, Seulgi must've felt dependent and it surely hurt her pride. Besides, there were enough people saying that Seulgi was only dating Irene to get money from her…

"And there's more." Irene's voice becomes quieter, more fragile. "My family, they're… very conservative. It was already hard enough for them to accept my sexuality. They never did, to be honest… but they particularly don't like Seulgi, because she's not, hm, on my "social level", as they like to say."

Ooh.

This is more complicated. Seulgi doesn't know what it feels like; her family is very open minded. She told you that, in the beginning, her parents were shocked when she told them that she also liked girls, but they slowly accepted it. Irene, on the other hand… 

"They keep saying that my relationship with her will be bad for the company." She confesses. "They said they'd even accept my relationship, as long as we dated in secret."

"What?!" you gasp. "This is disgusting!"

"I know." Irene nods, eyes focused on the mug between her hands. You have the impression that you see tears welling up on her eyes, but she blinks rapidly to dissipate them. "I… I was willing to go against them, because if they don't accept my relationship, then they don't accept who I am. But… I don't know if it's worth doing this if I'm not sure if Seulgi feels the same about me."

Ouch.

You remembered the night when they broke up. Seulgi came to you, crying, and said that she was tired of being with someone that wasn't brave enough to accept her.

Seulgi, my dear… you know nothing.

You can see that to go against her parents isn't as simple as it sounds. To Irene, going against her family involves reputation, money, and the company itself. It's definitely a big deal. Seulgi didn't understand how serious it is.

And Irene is willing to take this big step for her.

It's your time to sigh. 

"Irene." you lean closer, staring at her seriously. "Do you still love Seulgi?"

She blinks at your direct question. Irene looks down, gulps… and nods.

"I do love her."

You can't hear any hint of doubt on her voice.

That's what you wanted to hear.

"She's not okay." You blurt out the truth. Irene widens her eyes softly and looks at you. You see guilt on her eyes as she hears this. "I came here because I'm worried about her. She doesn't act like herself anymore. She even got tired of Netflix."

Irene widens her eyes in shock. "She stopped watching Netflix?!"

"Yes." You nod seriously. "And she still loves you, too."

Irene freezes when you say this.

Now, you're sure of the tears welling up on her eyes.

"I…" she stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence. "A-Are you sure?"

You can't help but giggle at her; Irene looks shy, almost like a teenager - scared and excited to know that her crush likes her back. You feel your own heart warming up at the sight.

"Of course I'm sure."

A smile wants to make its way up to her lips. "B-But what do I do? I can't just walk up to her like this. I don't want to start another fight…"

"Irene, believe me. Seulgi will listen to anything you have to say, as long as you're being honest. Tell her about the situation with your family. Prove to her that you're willing to stand for her. I mean, if you're still willing to…"

"I am!" Irene exclaims in a heartbeat. "I am. As long as she's with me, I feel like I can do anything."

You feel yourself smiling. Irene's eyes are shining like diamonds.

"But you also have to try to understand her." You say seriously. "Seulgi is not wrong for wanting to be independent. She's finishing her studies, she wants to build a career for herself, and she wants her own money. I know you're trying to help, but you have to respect her. Also, I'm sure she doesn't want to be a burden for you."

Irene nods vehemently. "Okay. You're right. I get it."

She doesn't hold her smile back anymore as a tear rolls down her cheek. She looks so immensely happy… it's a delightful sight. And you can't help but feel happy too, because right now, more than ever, you see that Seulgi found something rare and precious in this world.

True love.

And this fact itself is enough to make you feel that coming here was worth it - even though Seulgi might want to kill you afterwards.

"But hey, Irene," you call her seriously again. "I'm doing all this because both of you stupid asses couldn't, but if you make Seulgi cry again, I will kill you. I know where you work now."

Irene laughs at your very serious threat. She leans forward and holds both of your hands. "Y/N, thank you so much for telling me all this. I will forever be grateful. If you need anything- and I mean anything- I will help you, okay? Anything!"

"Alright, alright," you say, shrugging, the slight thought that a millionaire owns you a favor sounding nice. "Now, you better go talk to Seulgi. I can't stand her walking around the living room looking like a zombie anymore." Irene laughs softly. "And… I said I wasn't hungry, but now I kind of want that waffle."

Seulgi looks like a very grumpy zombie when you meet her in the corridor.

"Where the hell were you?!" Seulgi exclaims. "It's noon!"

"Yeah, I know." you shrug. "The bank was pretty crowded."

Seulgi narrows her eyes. Her hair looks messy even though it's tied up and she has bags underneath her eyes. She's wearing the top of her old orange pajamas. It has an old kitchen oil stain over the chest. Seulgi from months ago would rarely go out looking like this. 

"What the hell did you need to do there anyway? I didn't even know people still go to banks." She whines. "I was getting worried, you know?"

You walk down the corridor with your hands behind your back. You're glad Seulgi is too grumpy to notice the sly smirk on your lips, the way you kind of bounce by her side in expectation.

"Always so thoughtful, Seul. You're so cute, did you know that?"

She side eyes you, the frown deepening. "Why are you complimenting me?"

"What's the problem with complimenting you?"

"Whenever you compliment me it means either you want something or you did something that you know will piss me off."

Sometimes you forget how well Seulgi knows you. 

"Jesus, you're too stressed, girl. I'll pay you lunch, okay? Let's eat at that Italian restaurant you like."

"When you offer yourself to pay for stuff it also means that-"

Seulgi stops in her tracks, completely frozen.

"Irene?"

You step back silently and hold your breath.

This is the moment that might end your friendship with Seulgi if it goes bad.

Irene seems to be holding her breath as well, her eyes round - scared, hesitant, hopeful. 

And they stand there, looking at each other. As if time has slowed down. As if there was no one else besides them in the busy corridor.

If this was a drama, you imagined that the romantic soundtrack would kick in now.

"Hi, Seulgi." Irene says softly. "It's… it's been a while."

It seems that Seulgi's brain is struggling to function. "What… what are you doing here?" the fact that she does not sound defensive or aggressive but genuinely surprised and confused relieves your chest. 

"I came here to talk." Irene says. "Just… just talk. But if you want me to go…"

"No." Seulgi interrupts her embarrassingly too fast. "It's alright. We… we can talk. Just talk."

Their eyes are gleaming and the ghost of smiles appear on their lips.

Your chest fills with triumph as you silently walk back. Not that either of them would even notice you anyway.

You're too far to hear what they're saying now, their soft voices drowning in the middle of the many more people walking around the corridor, but you still kind of hide inside an empty classroom, half of your body peeking outside of the door to watch them. They're talking and smiling timidly. You feel tempted to take some photos, but it's better not to. You kind of feel like an intruder watching them, even if you're this far-

"What are you doing?" 

You almost feel your spirit jumping out of your body when the male voice asks dangerously close to your ear, turning around in a jump to see the source.

Now you don't know if your heart is beating so ridiculously fast because of the scare of because of the view in front of you.

Jungkook looks down at you with a puzzled expression, his hands behind his back, his body slightly leaning on your direction. He's wearing a modern grey hanbok over a black t-shirt and slippers. His backpack hangs from one shoulder. His hair is half tied up in a small bun, curly bangs falling over his eyes. This is precisely what makes your heart almost fail. You've been wondering how he would look like with his hair tied up ever since he decided to let it grow…

He's got no business looking this good. No. Fucking. Business.

But you're a master of pretending you're unbothered, so you just point ahead at their direction with an excited smile. Jungkook's eyes look up to where you're pointing and his eyes widen.

"Oh!" Almost instantly, he kind of hides behind you as well. It's hard to ignore the warmth of his body on your back, even though he isn't close enough to touch you. "Did they make up? Are they dating again?" 

"I hope they will." it's weird how you're both speaking so low, as if they could possibly hear you over the loud chatter. 

"What if they start fighting?" 

"Don't even say that! I put my friendship with Seulgi at risk to get these two to talk!"

You turn your head in time to see Jungkook's eyes frowning as he realizes what's going on.

"It was you?"

"Of course it was."

He crosses his arms over his broad chest and shakes his head slowly in disapproval. "You said you wouldn't get involved!"

"I never said I wasn't going to get involved." you bat your lashes prettily at him, trying to give your best innocent look (unsuccessfully). 

"You damn gremlin."

You whack his chest. "Aw, come on! Just look at them and tell me it isn't working!"

Both of you look ahead again to see them smiling sweetly at each other as they talk. You bounce and giggle excitedly like a little kid. "Look, look! She's blushing!"

Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "But what about Jennie?"

"Oh, Irene and Jennie went out on dates, but it didn't work out in the end. They're just friends." you repeat the exact same words Irene told you earlier. 

"Are you sure?"

"Well, if she cheats on Seulgi, I'll kill her."

You watch as they slowly start to walk away side by side, heading towards the exit.

You jump out of your "hideout" and open your arms in triumph. "I did great this time, didn't I?!"

Jungkook chuckles and leans on the doorway, arms crossed. "Whatever you say."

You're an expert at acting unbothered, but right now it's really hard to do so when he looks at you this way.

He has a pretty lazy smile on his lips. It makes you feel hot inside and your stomach jumps and your heart races. His gaze is intense… but not in the way you're used to. That look isn't his I want to fuck kind of look, it's… it's… shit, you don't know what that means, but it's pretty intense. Why is he looking at you like that?

You just hope he doesn't notice how your legs are wobbly.

It's the first time you see him in person since two days ago, when he slept at your house. Two days after you had sex even though you said you wouldn't. You didn't talk properly about what happened there. To be honest, your brain still didn't process that well. 

Things are awkward between you two - but this time it's a different kind of awkward. A type of awkward that made your cheeks burn while you cleaned yourself and got dressed. A type of awkward that made you feel all fuzzy and warm inside, that made a silly smile grow on your lips every time your eyes crossed his from the other side of the living room, an awkwardness that forced you both to look away and try to pretend your cheeks weren't aching from the damn smile that didn't want to go away. A type of awkward that didn't let you talk about what happened - as if none of you wanted to talk about it, to just keep it engraved in your minds forever, as if talking about it would take all the magic of the moment away.

You don't hate this type of awkward. 

It's not uncomfortable. Not like what has been happening for the past months. Yet, you feel that you need to talk about it - to sort things out clearly and straightforwardly this time… because if the way he's looking at you means anything, then maybe… just maybe…

"I've got good news." Jungkook says suddenly (because he noticed that you've been staring at each other for far too long to not be embarrassing anymore). 

"What?" you fiddle with your own fingers, trying to ease the tension.

"Remember that director I told you about? Mr. Choi?" You nod. "He invited me to work with him."

Your jaw drops, your eyes widen. "What? Are you serious?!"

Jungkook nods excitedly. "Yeah. Well, I'll be like the assistant of the assistant, to be honest, but… he invited me to work with him on his next project. I'll gain some real experience, at least…"

"Are you kidding? This is great, Kook! What the fuck!"

You jump over to hug him, your arms dropping around his shoulders, and Jungkook quickly hugs you back. His low excited giggle right next to your ear makes goosebumps crawl on your skin. 

"I'm so fucking proud of you!" And you couldn't be more honest. Jungkook has always been so  hardworking; he deserves all the success and recognition in the world. You always thought so.

"Thank you," his voice is still low and excited.

He caresses your back. It makes yet more goosebumps crawl on your skin. 

Oh, God. He still smells like baby powder. He always does. You feel tempted to sniff the crook of his neck, just to take a little bit more of his scent, but you hold yourself back. It's not like hugging Jungkook is something new to you. Fuck, after everything you've done, hugging should feel like nothing. But for some reason… hugging him right now feels like a lot.

Feels awkward.

So awkward that you have to remind yourself that you're in the middle of a corridor full of people, and that this hug is taking way too long, so you step back before your brain completely malfunctions. 

"A-And," you clear your throat and put a strand of hair behind your ear, furiously avoiding his gaze. You never thought that Jungkook would make you feel shy like this. Shy and Y/N shouldn’t make sense in the same sentence. "When is this next project?"

"In two days. I think he decided to put me on the crew last minute."

"This means that he really trusts you."

Jungkook smiles sheepishly and massages the back of his neck. "I just hope I won't mess things up."

"You'll do great, Kook. You always do."

He lifts his gaze to you again.

That same look again.

You feel that everything is blurred except him again. No one else is in that corridor. No loud chatter. Just him and his starry eyes, looking back at you, eyes that smile as much as his lips.

God.

You need to sort things out.

You can't just stare at him with heart eyes like this anymore. You need to talk about what happened. This conversation feels awkward because you're both trying to act normal, pretending that there isn't a fucking elephant in the room - an elephant that makes you think of a mattress in the middle of your living room, of sunrays touching his exposed skin, of old pajamas being thrown around and sweat and soft kisses and salty tears dripping down your temples.

You need to know if he also felt that that morning was different. You need to know if he feels the same. Even if he doesn't - even if his heart lays with Yeri or Joy or whoever it might be - you need to know, and you don't care about what the outcome might be. You just can't torture yourself like this anymore.

So you inhale and gulp.

"Jungkook, I was thinking… are you busy after classes?" you ask timidly.

He presses his lips together. "Actually, I am. The boys and I are planning to celebrate the end of the semester tonight."

Mission abort! Mission abort!!

"Why?"

"Oh- it's nothing. I was just…" you can't think of any excuse. "It's not that important anyway. Forget it."

Jungkook looks at you with suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I'm sure. Nevermind."

He still stares at you for a while, frowning. 

"You wanna come with us?"

"No!" you shake your hands dismissively. You're not having this super important conversation surrounded by all of his friends. "I'm just gonna bother you guys. It's fine, Jungkook. Enjoy your night." 

Jungkook shrugs. He takes his phone from his back pocket for a moment. "Well, I gotta go. I promised I'd pay Jimin lunch."

"Alright."

You start to walk in opposite directions.

“But we can meet tomorrow, right?” You turn around way too fast when you hear Jungkook say, a few steps away from you. He looks hesitant, an awkward little smile on his lips. “I have some stuff to do, but we can see each other at night. After I finish preparing my stuff. We could meet, right?” He visibly starts to look more and more awkward as he speaks. As if his confidence started to vanish. It’s kind of adorable. “You could come to my place. O-Or I could go to yours, I don’t care- I mean, can I?”

Your heart is bouncing crazily inside of you. You don’t notice how you’re mirroring his awkward smile. “Of course, Kook. When did you ever need permission to go to my apartment?”

Jungkook frowns as if he just realized how stupid his ask was. “Guess you’re right. Or maybe we could go out somewhere, right? It’s been a while since we went out, the two of us.”

He’s right. All you’ve been doing for the past months is meet to have sex. You don’t even remember the last time you two did something that didn’t involve getting naked. 

“Sure, let’s go out.” 

You stare at each other for a few more awkward moments (awkward is a word you’ve been thinking a lot about lately). See, that’s not how things would go between you two back then. Neither of you ever needed to ask previously to go out. You’d just usually drag Jungkook out of his house by force when you deemed he hasn’t been taking enough sunlight (fucking Overwatch). Or Jungkook would call you at 3am because he was bored of playing Overwatch and just realized there was only expired milk and an empty box of cereal in the cabinets because the last time he and Jimin bought food was 2 weeks ago and he’d be like “hey, let’s go to Walmart” and you’d be like “what the fuck Jungkook it’s 3am” and he’d be like “but Jimin’s not home I need help” and you’d be like “fuck you” but twenty minutes later you’d both be on your pajamas pushing a cart inside of an empty Walmart as you barely register Jungkook ranting about how he thinks he’s lactose intolerant because he had diarrhea the last time he ate yogurt.

That’s kind of how things used to go back then.

At the same time you desperately want your relationship to go back to normal, you don’t really hate the way you’re feeling right now.

“Right, I gotta go.” Jungkook snaps out of it faster than you and nods. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.”

Again, you turn around and start to walk in opposite directions. Slowly. Hesitantly. Because both of you know you don't want to go. Both of you know you still have a lot to talk about.

But maybe later.

[bby bear]: i kinda want to kill you rn but

[bby bear]: thank u so fcking much

[bby bear]: ily

[bby bear]: bitch

You're smiling so hard that your cheeks might probably start to ache. If Seulgi texted you this, it means things went really well with Irene. 

The chatter in the dining hall is nothing but background noise on your ears as you scroll down your boring Instagram feed, the plate just half eaten in front of you. You’re not really hungry. Maybe the stress of studying for finals messed your stomach. The hell’s finally over, at least, and you’re sure that your grades won’t be that bad (Seulgi didn’t want to do anything, but you at least convinced her to study with you. That’s the only thing that got her out of her bedroom. Her zombie state was kinda the reason why you studied so hard). 

Some text notifications pop on your screen, but you just swipe them away since none of them are from the person you’re waiting for. All of your friends are planning to go out tonight and some of them are asking if you want to go. No, you don’t. Honestly, you’ve not been feeling yourself these days. Past you would always be up to a party. Past you wouldn’t be having lunch alone in the dining hall - honestly though, you don’t even mind being by yourself. Nothing would make you feel emptier right now than being surrounded by random people. Just one person matters at the moment-

“Hi.”

You almost drop the phone inside the plate when you look up to see who just sat in front of you.

Joy.

Your throat feels suddenly bitter. You have to gulp.

“Jesus, I didn’t even notice you come,” you inhale and chuckle. “How you doing, Joy?”

Joy smiles. “I’m fine.”

She’s lying.

There’s something in the way she looks at you and in the way her smile looks plastic-fake that makes you shiver.

It makes you think that she didn’t even want to be here.

Well, you don’t know about her, but you certainly feel uncomfortable right now. You can’t lie that you’ve been feeling kind of guilty these days because you’ve been fucking the guy she likes in secret, but a big fat load of guilt hit you especially after two days ago. Joy went on a date with Jungkook and barely a few hours later you had him inside of you. And, of course, you had rough sex with him inside of her bathroom. All the while you knew Joy liked him and encouraged her to be with him-

Wow, it’s getting hard to look at her right now. 

You really are a bitch. In the beginning you didn’t feel bad because you stupidly assumed there weren’t feelings involved. It was just friends with benefits, right? You even agreed that you could have sex with other people. If Jungkook started dating Joy, of course you’d stop doing it. Also, there was nothing between you two. You didn’t even feel jealousy.

Things changed, though, and at some point you genuinely started to hate this poor girl for breathing around Jungkook. And now you feel guilty because you realized that you like the guy that she told you she had a crush on months ago.

I took a shower this morning, so why do I feel so dirty right now?

A shiver runs down your spine.

The way she’s looking at you… what if she knows-?

“I’m throwing a party tonight,” she says suddenly. “To celebrate the end of the semester. You wanna come?”

You’ve been fucking the guy she likes for months and there she is, being nice and inviting you to her party. You really are a fake ass bitch-

“O-Oh.” You rub the back of your neck. “I, uhm… thanks, Joy, but I’m not feeling very well today. I just feel like sleeping, to be honest.” You chuckle sheepishly again. 

Joy nods. “Alright.”

She doesn’t insist. It looks like she doesn’t even care. As if she’s just being polite.

In fact, it kind of looks that she’s relieved that you said no-

“So, how was your date with Taehyung?” She changes the topic quickly. “We didn’t even talk about it.”

Right. She’s talking about the person you don’t even want to think about because there’s only so much guilt one person can feel at once. 

“It was fun.” You say. “We had a lot of fun.”

It sounds stupid, the way you can’t even articulate your date with him. You’re not lying - you had fun… kind of. 

“Are you dating him now?”

Okay, this is getting strange. Not the question, but the way she asked. You’re 100% sure she’s annoyed by something, and honestly looks uninterested in your current state with Taehyung right now, so why is she asking anyway? 

“No, we’re not.” You admit. 

Joy stares at you in silence as if she’s waiting for you to say something more, but you say nothing else. Joy then nods. This is getting very uncomfortable.

You feel that she’s about to leave, so you pick up the courage to speak again. She touched this topic anyway.

You know it’s wrong to ask. You shouldn’t. But you’re so curious that you can’t help.

“A-And, uhm… what about you and Jungkook? How was your date?” you try so hard to pretend you’re not dying curious to know.

Joy stares at you in silence again. She isn’t smiling.

“He didn’t tell you?”

What? Is there something to tell?!

“No. Jungkook’s kinda private about this type of thing,” you’re lying, of course, because even if Jungkook didn’t want to, you’d usually annoy him with questions about his dates so hard that he’d end up telling everything that happened.

Joy looks away and quirks one eyebrow. “Oh. I assumed he would have since you guys are so close.”

The way she says so close bothers you.

It’s her turn to rub the back of her neck, her eyes glued on the table - only she doesn’t look nervous. Yeah, she’s annoyed. Joy takes so long to talk that you’re about to repeat your question, but she finally speaks:

“We also had fun. Jungkook really is a sweet guy, right? He did nothing wrong. He’s so polite that it ended up annoying me, honestly. More polite than I would have wanted him to be…” Hah, so they didn’t fuck! Great! “Well, he dropped me home and I invited him to spend the night and all, but… He was very polite. He apologized a lot and said that he couldn’t stay…”

Joy licks her lips. Why the dramatic pause? Say it already, come on!

“He’s also a very honest guy, right?” She chuckled, but she clearly didn’t think it was funny. “He said that he thought I was an amazing person, but things wouldn’t go further than this because…”

For the first time, Joy lifts her gaze and looks at you.

“Because he already had feelings for someone else.”

You’re honestly not breathing anymore.

Joy is watching you very carefully. You’re as stiff as a board.

“Not a fun way to finish a date, right?” She says and chuckles, again, it’s clear she isn’t happy at all. “Anyways, I have to go now. Bye.” 

She gets up and walks away before you can even say anything, as if this conversation was being unbearable for her.

Meanwhile, you just sit there. Frozen. Breathless.

He said things wouldn’t go further than this.

Your throat feels very dry out of sudden. Very, very dry and coarse, as if you’ve eaten sand. 

Because…

You take the water bottle from over the table and drink it in one big, big gulp, until the bottle is empty and your shaking fingers crushed the fragile pet bottle.

He already had feelings for someone else.

You get up and take the tray so fast that you almost drop everything.

Your movements are fast as you walk out of the busy dining hall, your heart beating loudly on your ribcage, your breathing irregular and your mind working at 200 km/h.

He already had feelings for someone else.

He told Joy this. He dropped her home and told her the truth. He apologized. He… he said he already had feelings for someone else. Jesus Christ. Your heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s going to stop anytime soon.

He- He-

He might be talking about Yeri, a little, hesitant voice inside your mind whispers. Well… sure. You’ve been suspecting it for a good while. But… after Jungkook dropped Joy home and said this he-

He went to your apartment.

He went to you.

You feel the need to stop walking and lean on the corridor’s wall. The world around you is blurred.

What is this feeling bubbling up in your chest? A feeling so strong that it’s almost spilling over? This thing that makes you open the widest smile you ever opened and makes you want to jump around the corridor like crazy?

He came to me. He came to me. He came to me. He came to me.

He came to me!

But-

But there’s still the Yeri possibility. 

You need to know the truth. To hear him say it, and you can’t wait another day - not anymore.

You take your phone from your bag and type with shaking fingers.

[you]: hey

[you]: can we meet today?

[you]: i really need to talk to you

Jeon Jungkook is a simp. 

He doesn’t like this word. He thinks it’s annoying how people would call a guy a simp just because he’s treating a girl with minimal decency. 

But, like. He’s a simp. He knows he is. He took a long time to admit this, but lately his pride has been already so crushed and stepped on by a particular pair of feet that he can’t even bring himself to feel anything anymore.

Actually, no. He has been feeling like shit for a long time. It’s just the alcohol anesthetizing him right now.

That’s just his second bottle of beer and he already feels kind of dizzy. It’s been a while since he last drank alcohol, that’s probably why his resistance feels weak. He makes a mental reminder to not drink too much. Jungkook knows that he gets really talkative when he’s drunk and he always ends up saying stuff he shouldn’t - and today especially he can’t end up saying stuff he shouldn’t with that guy around.

If he knew Taehyung would be here too, Jungkook wouldn’t have come. Yes, he knows he’s being childish. He knows he’s angry at someone that didn’t do anything wrong, he knows that jealousy is bad, he knows that technically he is wrong because he’s been dicking down the girl that he knew his friend liked. He knows all that, alright?!

Jungkook throws his head back and sighs, passing his hand through his hair. A chilling night breeze touches his cheeks; since the inside of the bar was already full and they were too many, everyone decided to sit on the outside part of the bar. Jungkook hasn’t been paying attention to anything anyone around him was saying and neither was he interested. He thought that coming here would make him forget about the things that have been troubling him, but in the end he’s just thinking more about them.

I could excuse myself and go home. He thought. I have a lot of things to do anyway. I wouldn’t be lying.

He feels a hand rest on his shoulder and looks at Jimin, sitting on a chair by his side. The look on Jimin’s face already says everything. Jungkook sometimes thinks that Jimin has telepathic superpowers; how does he always know what’s going on before anyone even says anything?

“You alright?” Jimin asks in a low tone, careful not to call anyone’s attention. The younger one nods.

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you drunk?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook reassures. 

Taehyung laughs loudly from across the table and both of them end up looking at him. Jimin looks back at Jungkook. 

Jimin sighs. “You know you can go home if you want to.”

“Yeah.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

Jungkook looks at Jimin and sips a bit more of the beer slowly.

“Yeah.”

Jimin smacks his shoulder and goes back to his previous conversation with Hoseok.

How Jimin always seems to know what’s going on… it annoys Jungkook a lot. He wasn’t supposed to know anything. It’s not like Jungkook told him about his feelings, Jimin just… realized. They were doing grocery shopping one day and Jungkook mentioned how last time he went to Walmart you told him that the diarrhea he had wasn’t because he was lactose intolerant but because the yogurt was expired and then Jimin turned around and simply said:

“You like her, right?”

And Jungkook gasped.

Jimin smirked knowingly and just kept pushing the cart. He said nothing else - but it was as if Jungkook had just confessed his deepest feelings right there.

This happened a little bit after Jungkook and Yeri broke up and kind of made him feel offended. How could Jimin say he liked you? He hadn’t even gotten over Yeri, Jimin knew very well. However, it seems that Jimin is not only a telepath, he can also see the future, because he couldn’t be more right.

If Jungkook’s being honest with himself, some months ago he wasn’t really really sure about what he felt about you. As the “Yeri” scar started to heal he got more aware of his own feelings and actions towards you, but it was hard to sort things out because he was always in denial. That desire to hold you close and hug you and take care of you and not let anyone hurt you anymore? Well, that was just his protective side. You have always been one of his dearest people. Jungkook also knew that he had a little possessive side. He was sure that this feeling would eventually vanish.

Maybe he was also frightened because he knew it wasn’t reciprocal. You never even looked at him in a way that might mean you felt something else for him. He wasn’t going to confess something he wasn’t sure of to someone that definitely didn’t feel anything for him and destroy a life-long friendship.

But oh boy, how things have changed.

They changed the moment you hopped on his lap that night inside his car. Jesus, that first week was hell for Jungkook. He was trying so, so hard to forget the messy drunken memories of his night with you - especially because, the moment he woke up and saw the pure face of terror on your face when you realized what just happened, he thought of how much you regretted that and all of his hopes died right there - the hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could be more than friends.

Yet, he got to taste you again. Two times were all it took to get him addicted.

He couldn’t stop anymore - and it hurt him much more than he would like to admit. He felt that he was being used, even though he let you do it (and he enjoyed it every time, not gonna lie). He felt worthless, he felt angry at himself because he couldn’t stop and because you were so, so fucking stupid, so fucking blind, he felt sad because he watched as your friendship started to slowly die down, and now he feels jealous and guilty because he’s been seeing how Taehyung likes you - how Taehyung even asked him advice to ask you out - and he didn’t stop fucking you anyway.

That day at Joy’s house? It was ridiculous. Jungkook still doesn’t understand what the fuck happened to him, why he felt so angry. Perhaps he was finally getting tired of how dumb you are, how you can’t see what’s right in front of your face. 

Just thinking about you hurts now. And Jungkook thinks about you a lot. There he is, surrounded by his friends, where he should be talking and having fun, but he’s too busy thinking about you. In two days he’ll start working for Mr. Choi, his first real job. He should be thinking about it. Not about you.

He can’t stop thinking about your flustered face.

You don’t look flustered that often. Especially not around him. 

He thinks this is very intriguing.

What hurt him the most in all this - the thing that made him feel like a piece of shit more than anything - is that he knows you too damn well and he knew that it was never special to you. To you it was just sex, it was just fun; whenever your lips touched you never felt like you were being swept off your feet like he did, whenever you touched him you didn’t feel like just then, in that moment, everything was right - as if the Universe was only created for that specific moment to happen, as if the Universe was expectantly waiting for the moment his fingers ran on your skin freely since the very beginning.

He never felt like this with anyone else. No other pussy has ever made him feel this poetic. 

The fact that Jungkook knew you didn’t feel the same was exactly why he couldn’t stop; this would be the closest he’d ever be from you in that sense - and honestly, after he tasted you, he didn’t want to go back to stage one. You were like a drug. You brought him comfort, you brought him bliss. Having sex with you became somehow of a escapist method. But, just like every drug, you started to make him feel sick… so sick that he couldn’t stand to be around you when you weren’t fucking. 

He drifted away.

God, he even stupidly tried to move on, but Joy was a foolish try. Jungkook felt bad for using her like this - even though he never even kissed her, he felt that he was fooling her anyway. Going on that date with Joy made everything worse, because he was with that gorgeous, intelligent and lovely girl, but he couldn’t feel anything but fucking empty.

He also realized that you couldn’t be his drug anymore. You deserved much more than that. That’s why he drove all the way to your apartment like a magnet. He preferred to go back to stage one if necessary, if it meant that he could be around you without feeling like a worthless piece of shit anymore.

Of course - things didn’t work out that way.

But that morning- it was different.

Jungkook has to sip more of his beer just thinking about it.

It was different.

It was… quiet, very quiet. Much more quieter than he was used to. And much closer than he ever remembered. 

All the times he had sex with you - his body was being pleased, but his soul felt hurt. This time, though, he felt that his whole self was being healed. You didn’t feel like a drug. You felt like a cure.

As if you were connected in somehow of a deeper way.

As if this time, it wasn’t one-sided on his part.

Jungkook can’t stop thinking about it. His pessimistic side tried to convince him that he was being delusional or dramatic (he has this tendency to overthink anyways) and maybe he was, but, again… you don’t usually act flustered, especially not around him. And you’ve been looking flustered around him for quite some now, even before that morning. Sure, your friendship became uncomfortable at some point and he realized that none of you knew how to act around each other anymore, but still… 

What about that time you saw a picture of Yeri on his computer?

You looked very, very awkward.

Or how you sometimes seemed bothered when Joy was around. You teased him a lot at that pool party. Jungkook knew you could get kinda kinky sometimes (he knew you liked the thrill of possibly being caught), but that felt like too much even for you.

His pessimistic side once again tried to convince him that he was seeing things. You wouldn’t be acting jealous. You were never jealous of him with any girl. Never. You even encouraged him to be with Joy, right?

What if… what if maybe, just maybe…?

Stop getting your hopes too high, his pessimistic side scolded. You look stupid.

I’ve been looking stupid for a goddamn long time, Jungkook thinks back. His pessimistic side looks back at him with disdain.

Jungkook frowns and looks at the bottle of beer on his hand. This is just regular beer, right? He surely isn’t so drunk that he’s already arguing with himself.

I should probably go home.

Or…

He could go to your home.

You wanted to talk to him earlier today. You looked very hesitant - again, very uncharacteristic of you. It felt like it was something important. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind if he knocked on your door unannounced - wait, you never cared. At least when your relationship didn’t involve rough sex. I mean- you didn’t mind not even when you started fucking, to be honest.

Why do I feel so nervous? I’ve never felt nervous over such a stupid thing. I mean, she’s the same dumbass I’ve known my whole life.

You’re probably home doing nothing. That’s also very uncharacteristic of you. Normal you would be at some club or party right now, celebrating the end of the semester. Normal you would probably have tried to drag him along. Or you’d meet some time during the night when you’re both too drunk to be standing and then you’d end up at 5am at the usual Burger King because you’re both hungry, and the Burger King employees would be staring at you both with anger and disgust because you’re both laughing like stupid and talking too loud and they’ve been up all night and can’t stand two drunk costumers this early in the morning.

It sounds nice.

Jungkook remembers that Seulgi and Irene made up, which means that Seulgi most definitely isn’t home.

Which means you positively are home alone.

Home alone, huh.

Jungkook sips more beer. 

This sounds nicer.

But, hey, it’s not like he’s being dirty minded (well, at least not entirely). He really wants to know what you wanted to talk about - and suddenly, he doesn’t feel like waiting until tomorrow. Maybe it’s the alcohol (maybe he really shouldn’t finish this beer), but he wants to see your face a lot right now. Your flustered face. And he kinda feels like holding your face with both hands and kissing you very slowly. And he kinda feels like going very very deep inside of-

You know what? Fuck it.

Jungkook puts the bottle over the table and is ready to get up. His excuse is ready. Nobody’s gonna think it’s strange anyway - Jungkook has actual stuff to do.

But he doesn’t have the chance to move when he notices a person approaching the tables where he’s sat.

He freezes.

It’s you.

You’re looking down at your phone before you lift your head and see the group of familiar faces a few meters away from you. You’re alone.

Jungkook’s heart starts to beat furiously inside his chest. A smile unconsciously increases on his lips. What are you doing here? He didn’t know you’d come. He’s also sure that he didn’t tell you which bar he would come to earlier today. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as a hundred ideas run on his mind in those few seconds; did you feel the need to see him as much as he wanted to see you? Did you have the same idea as him? Were you so eager to see him that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow-?

Your eyes finally cross his.

That’s when Jungkook notices something isn’t right.

You look surprised, then a second later you frown, then you slowly widen your eyes.

He knows you too damn well.

You didn’t know he’d be there, too. You’re surprised to see him. And it looks… it looks like you didn’t want to see Jungkook there.

“Y/N!”

A loud, excited, familiar male voice bursts out.

Jungkook watches frozen in place as Taehyung gets up in a swift movement, holds your face with both hands and kisses you.

Taehyung’s lips are warm against yours. They taste like toothpaste and beer.

The kiss is very brief. Taehyung breaks it alway soon, but still holds your face with his hands. He’s smiling widely.

“You're late, missy!" He says happily.

You're frozen in place.

This isn't happening. 

"I-" you stutter. It seems that your brain went into complete malfunction. "I, uhm…"

Your eyes travel back to Jungkook.

He's just watching. Not moving a muscle. No.

No no no no no no.

This can't be happening.

Jungkook wasn't supposed to be here. You thought- you thought he was going to celebrate with his classmates, you didn't expect Taehyung would be here too. No, no. Just no. 

You see the exact moment his features get as hard as stone. The way he clenches his jaw tight.

You can't breathe.

When you texted Taehyung earlier, you didn’t really like that he told you to meet him at a bar. A bar wasn’t the right place to have this type of conversation - you also felt bad that you’d probably ruin his end-of-semester celebrations - but you agreed anyway because you desperately needed to make things clear with Taehyung before you had that talk with Jungkook. You decided to do this because Jungkook was honest and fair with Joy; you needed to do the same. You left the worst of the impressions when you let Taehyung kiss you that day. You needed to tell him the truth, or else he’d just suffer more - and you couldn’t be a bitch enough to just dump him by text.

But fuck -  you didn’t expect Taehyung would fucking kiss you in front of everyone the moment he saw you!

With the corner of your eye, you see Jimin looking from you to Taehyung to Jungkook very fast, his face going pale as he realizes what just happened. No one else notices that something’s wrong.

Jungkook breaks eye contact with you and gets up from his chair. Jimin looks at him, helpless. You know that expression. He’s angry and- and-

Hurt.

You step away from Taehyung, trying to get control over your body again. It feels like pure frost has filled your veins. “T-Taehyung, I…” Your mouth is very dry again. You clear your throat. “C-Can we talk somewhere else?”

You suddenly hate how oblivious Taehyung is and how touchy he is because it’s clear that he’s moving his arm to hold your hand. What the fuck?! We just kissed once, it’s not like we’re dating!

“Sure. Do you wanna get inside? Wanna get a drink?” He asks with the same happy smile. 

You’re trying to think of something to say, but again, someone else behind him gets your attention.

“You’re going this early, Jungkook?” Hoseok whines, oblivious to the whole situation. Jungkook is putting his backpack over his shoulder. He’s looking down, jaw still very tight. Not a word said - yet you could see exactly how hurt he was. 

“Yeah. I have a lot to do.” He simply says. 

“Aw, come on, man!” Taehyung encourages. “You can stay a little longer!”

If Taehyung was a little less oblivious, he would have noticed the death glare sent in his direction.

“I can’t.”

A shiver crawls over your entire body as the death glare is now directed to you. 

He’s so, so hurt.

Jungkook’s walking away.

Stop! You want to scream. You got it all wrong! Don’t go!

But you don’t have the chance to stop him, and Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to walk away, and Taehyung doesn’t have the chance to understand what’s going on.

Everyone turns their heads when they hear a boisterous, scandalous laughter, and the sound of someone clapping their hands dramatically.

Now you’re sure that your veins are frosted. You shiver again - yet this time, it’s pure fear.

It’s Mike.

A very, very drunk Mike.

He looks the worst you’ve ever seen him; his clothes are a mess, his hair has grown a lot, and he hasn’t been shaving lately. His eyes are widened, red and maniac. He stumbles as he walks closer, everyone on the table - and the people on the tables around - stopping to look as he still claps ironically.

“Oh, look at what we have here!” he’s loud. Very loud. “So interesting!”

You notice that Jungkook isn’t walking away anymore - in fact, he comes back a few steps, standing closer to you. His body language has changed. Jimin has also gotten up; it seems that Taehyung might be starting to understand what’s going on.

“This is the funniest shit I’ve seen in a looooong time,” Mike continues. God, he’s drooling. This isn’t happening. That’s not possible.

You watch as some guys come closer to Mike and recognize them as his friends. One of them holds Mike’s arm. “Come on, man. Don’t start a scene. It’s not worth it.” He says in a rather low voice, but you can still hear it.

Mike gets off his grip aggressively. “What do you mean? Of course it’s worth it!” Mike looks at you and grins like a madman. You feel another shiver run down your spine. “Hello, Y/N! It’s been a long time! How have you been?!”

“Your friend’s right.” Jungkook speaks up. “Get out of here.”

“Ooooooh,” Mike shakes his hands as if pretending to be scared. “Look who’s here, too! It’s the bestie! Jeon Jungkook, the best friend your girlfriend could ever have!”

Pretty much everyone on the outside part of the bar is paying attention to what’s going on. They whisper between themselves, looking at Mike, you and Jungkook. You feel so embarrassed that you might as well faint. You feel that you should have said something already, but your brain is still malfunctioning. 

“Jeon Jungkook, the friend that will want to fuck your girl so bad, but he won’t because he’s a coward!” Mike screams and laughs like a maniac.

Jungkook steps up closer to Mike in a brusque movement, but Jimin’s fast enough to hold him back. At this point, all of his friends have already gotten up from the table, wanting to stop Jungkook from doing anything.

“Shut up, Mike! Let’s go!” Mike’s friends try to stop him as well, trying to drag him away, but even though he’s drunk, he’s still strong enough to stay in place.

“You think I didn’t know, huh, Jungkookie? You think I didn’t know that whenever I was balls deep inside of Y/N you wish it was you? You always wanted to make her scream like a bitch the way I did!”

At this moment, the fear and shame are overwhelmed by anger. Without realizing, you are the one stepping closer, you are the person who Taehyung has to grab the arm in order to stop. “Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch!” You hear yourself yelling.

People on the tables around have gotten up - the noise of many chairs scraping the floor getting louder than the worried voices of the people trying to get away from this mess. You hear someone - a guard from the bar, maybe - threatening to call the police, but you can’t pay attention to him.

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you are! A whore!” Mike yells back. “You got so sad that I cheated on you, but haven’t you been doing the same to me?! You think I didn’t see you two inside the car that night?!”

That night… in the car…

Did he... ?

You freeze again when you see Mike pointing at Taehyung. 

“Hm, you’re Taehyung, right? Are you dating her now? Well, be aware of her best friend right here, unless you like sharing your girl! But Jungkook likes leftovers, right, Jungk-?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Jimin isn’t strong enough to stop Jungkook from jumping over and landing a punch on Mike’s nose.

There’s yelling and the sound of tables turning as a whole lot of men try to stop the fight and glasses breaking and Jungkook screaming incomprehensible things as he holds Mike’s collar and punches once, twice, three times, and then Mike’s mouth and nose are bleeding, and Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung are trying to get Jungkook off Mike but it seems that not even the three would be enough to stop him.

You’ve never seen Jungkook so mad. It scares you because Mike is too drunk and can’t defend himself - but you’re not scared for Mike, that fucker can die -, you’re scared of what might happen to Jungkook.

So, when Jimin and the others drag Jungkook away as he still tries to free himself violently, you somehow squeeze yourself between them to hold Jungkook’s arm.

“Jungkook, stop!”

The black-haired man looks at you, his eyes red with rage in a way you’ve never seen before. 

You didn’t notice that, in your despair, your eyes filled with tears. This is probably what makes Jungkook stop for a moment.

“Enough! I called the police! Everyone out of the bar!”

A siren can be heard from far.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jimin yells.

Another mess as everyone grabs their things and to try and run out of the bar - even the people that weren’t involved. You see that Mike hasn’t fainted as his friends grab him out of the bar in a rush.

Jungkook has to get out of here, it’s the only thing on your mind. Jungkook thinks the same apparently, because he’s quick to take his bag from the floor and jump over the bar’s fence to the sidewalk. You assumed that he didn’t drive his way here because he knew he would drink - which means he had to run.

Your only instinct is to follow him. 

You jump over the fence too, much more clumsily than him. Jungkook is already running down the street. 

As you’re about to follow him, you hear someone call your name.

It’s Taehyung.

He’s standing on the sidewalk as customers run out of the bar. And the look on his face crushes your heart.

I am the worst person in the world.

“Y/N, what he said… is it- is it true?” He asks quietly.

You open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing coherent comes out of it. The guilt rushes with adrenaline through your veins. You knew he would be hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t.

“I-I’m sorry, Taehyung,” is the only thing you can stutter.

You don’t see what face he makes next - both because you can’t take it, and because you’re already turning around and running down the street after Jungkook.

Jungkook is the only thing on your mind.

You can’t let him go away like this.

You run through the busy streets full of bars. As usual, they’re crowded with people. Some of them look at you running like crazy when you pass by, but you can’t stop running because you can still hear the sirens.

Jungkook has some damn long legs. He runs much faster than you and doesn’t even look back. You can barely breathe and your stomach hurts as you unsuccessfully try to catch up to him. You keep running and running and running until you’re on less busier streets, until the bars are left behind and now you’re on a more residential part of the neighbourhood. As Jungkook crosses an almost empty square, you decided that your body can’t take it anymore. You stop gradually, feeling your entire body scream in pain.

“Jungk- Jungkook!” you yell. 

The black-haired man finally looks behind his back and sees you; he widens his eyes in surprise and stops. 

“Why are you-?”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as the sound of the sirens get closer. You immediately start to run again and this time - instead of running in front of you - Jungkook waits until you get closer to grab your hand, forcing you to run faster. You two cross the square and run into a stair alley with houses on both sides. It’s quiet here. Jungkook crouches down behind a big trash bin, making you crouch down as well.

You both make as much silence as possible (considering you’re both panting heavily), both sweating, and wait until the sounds and lights of the police siren go away.

After maybe five minutes Jungkook gets up again, dropping his backpack on the floor. He cleans the sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt; you rest your hands on your legs, trying to recover your breath. Your stomach hurts as if it has been stabbed. Maybe I should start working out.

You notice that Jungkook’s right hand is hurt; his knuckles are swollen and bleeding a little. He frowns in pain as he analyzes it. “You- you’re hurt.” you stupidly stutter. Jungkook shakes his head.

“It’s nothing.” He says in a low voice. “I said I would beat him up if I saw him…”

Out of instinct you step closer to him, worried, and lift your hands to hold his swollen one.

But Jungkook steps back before you can even touch him. He literally flinched away from you.

It feels like an arrow has just buried itself in your heart.

He’s not looking at you.

“Jungkook-”

“No.” He shakes his head again. He’s breathing heavily as if trying to calm himself down. “Don’t… don’t say anything. Please.”

It’s getting so difficult to breathe. Jungkook puts his hands on each side of his waist, staring at something on the floor - clearly avoiding your pleading gaze.

“But Jungkook, I… you didn’t…” why the hell can’t you speak a coherent sentence anymore? That’s why you followed him all the way. You must make things clear, but seeing his face right now makes you hesitate. Jungkook looks genuinely angry; you’ve never seen him like this, ever.

He throws his head back, looking at the sky, and lets a very dry chuckle past his lips. His expression tells you everything you need to know - he’s tipsy, not entirely drunk.

“You know, I don’t even understand why I’m angry.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or to himself. “There was never anything real happening, right? We were never real.”

You feel yourself choking on your own words. What does he mean?

“Jungkook, you have to listen to me. I just wanted to talk to Taehyung-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Y/N!” He interrupts and finally gazes you back with bloodshot eyes. “We’re fuck buddies, right? It’s just for fun, right? No real feelings involved. It’s not like we’re supposed to care.”

Tears start to make your sight blurred. Each word of his sound more and more bitter, more sad, more hurt, and it feels like someone has buried the arrow in your heart deeper when you realize that his eyes are getting teary, too.

“Stop saying that. You know it’s not true. You’re the person I care about the most in this world-”

“If you start saying how I’m your best friend I’m leaving you right now.”

You frown and blink, trying to dissipate the tears. “B-But it’s true-”

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! I’m in love with you! Stop acting like you don’t know that already!”

It feels like your brain and your limbs and your lungs stopped working all at once.

Did he… did he just…?

Jungkook exhales heavily. He looks so tired. He rests his back against the wall in front of you, once again avoiding your gaze.

Something tells you that this should have been a happy moment. Deep down, you feel the pure bliss and excitement and it feels like your heart will combust - because you finally heard the words you wanted to hear the most coming directly from his mouth, you finally understood everything; he felt the same, the fucking same.

Yet, all the happiness is being overwhelmed by worry.

You’re watching him intently. You know the man in front of you better than you know yourself. You’ve never seen this expression before - this mix of anger and hurt have never been directed towards you. You’re scared because you don’t know what it implies.

It’s his breaking point.

He might be giving up on you right now.

You don’t know what to say. For a long moment, you just stare at him as he tries to calm himself down - always avoiding your gaze. It seems that words won’t come out of your mouth no matter how hard you try.

“Since when?” is the only thing you can whisper after a long time.

Jungkook shakes his head and lets yet another lifeless chuckle. “I don’t know.” He says in a low, broken voice.

Your fingers are shaking as you close your hands in tight fists. He needs to hear the truth.

“Jungkook.” Yet again, you hesitantly step closer. Your voice is fragile, pleading. “You got it all wrong. Please, you have to listen to me. Today, I-”

“Yeah, I know I got it all wrong from the start.” He interrupts you again. Shut up!, you want to scream. Let me fucking speak!

However, you can’t speak anymore when you notice the tears dripping down his face.

Jungkook is crying.

It’s your fault.

He passes both hands over his face as quickly as the first tears started to fall and sighs heavily. He takes his bag from the floor and shoves it over his shoulder again, turning around before you can see his face again, before you have the chance to say anything.

“I’m going home. You should go home, too.”

And he starts to walk down the stairs way too fast.

Your body is moving before your mind registers and you try to catch up to him. “Jungkook, wait-”

“Don’t.”

Is the only thing he says without looking back.

This makes you stop.

You watch, frozen in place, as he walks down the stairs. You keep your eyes on him as he crosses the empty square again. He’s almost running.

He wants to get away from you as soon as possible.

You know Jungkook too well. You know that, even if you followed him, even if you insisted, he wouldn’t want to hear you anyway. He’d probably despise you even more. This is what made you freeze.

You suddenly feel your legs get weak and sit down on the stair steps. Not only your legs, actually. All of your limbs feel heavy. 

You don’t remember the last time you cried like this. The unstoppable tears just coming and coming and the sobs barely let you breathe. 

You’re crying because you’re ashamed of what just happened at the bar - how Mike made you feel humiliated in front of all those people. You’re guilty because you weren’t honest with Taehyung and now there’s no way back - you let him believe in whatever he wanted to believe instead of making things clear, and now he’s hurt.

And the worst of all.

You’ve been hurting Jungkook so bad for so long without realizing. You hurt the person you cared about the most. 

All of it is your fault.

God, it hurts so much.

You know Jungkook too well. He’s the person that has been always there with you for better or for worse. You always knew you’d have each other’s backs no matter what happens; he’s a part of you, the most important, most precious part of you.

This time, you genuinely don’t know what will happen from now on.

This time... you don’t know if Jungkook will ever forgive you.

[padawanlost]

Hi, I dont read alot (of books) but I was just wondering, did Anakin/vader ever see people he helped/freed (during his time as a jedi) being oppressed by the empire. Did he feel pity or sorrow for them? Or had he totally unplugged from those emotions at that point ?

No. Anakin was to broken to feel sorry for anyone but himself. People have this idea of Vader being a sadistic monster who thrived on the suffering he caused but the truth is he was too lethargic to care. He didn’t stay with Palpatine out enjoyment or even loyalty. He stayed because he had nowhere else go, no one else to be with.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself … It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith— Because now your self is all you will ever have. And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the *shadow* who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself— And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever … [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

What Vader appeared to be  - no fucks given BAMF – were very different from what he truly was: Palpatine’s slave. Vader, once you get to know him, is not a scary monster. He’s a quite pathetic and hopeless man.

He wasn’t a sadistic control freak like Palpatine and he didn’t *enjoy* hurting people he didn’t feel deserve to be hurt but he was too damaged and broken to do anything about it. he kind of just went with it.

In one of the comics, he has to face the truth that the Empire is enslaving people and he is upset about it. but he does nothing because there's nothing left in him. for him to pity them, he’d have to empathize with them and that’s something he couldn’t afford to do. He was too trapped in his own private little hell to feel bad for people.

Again the smile or snarl from his Master. “You were a traitor, were you not, Lord Vader?” Vader’s breathing caught on the hook of sudden anger. “What did you say?”

 “To the Jedi. To Padmé. To Obi-Wan. To all those you loved.” His Master turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting the flames. 

Vader didn’t know the answer his Master wanted to hear, so he simply answered with the truth. “Yes.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

If he couldn’t even care enough to defend himself from his master abusive behavior, I doubt he’d ever care enough to pity a stranger.

When it comes to Vader’s apathetic, one of the best examples I can think of is his ‘relationship’ with Drua. In one of the books, Vader and Palpatine are stranded. They run into a girl and Vader saves her life:

“Come here, girl,” the Emperor said, putting the power of the Force into his command. Unable to resist, the girl walked out of the tree line until she stood, small and vulnerable, before him. With preternatural speed the Emperor drew, ignited, and slashed at the girl with his lightsaber, but Vader had sensed his Master’s intent and moved with greater speed, igniting his own blade and intercepting his Master’s blow before it could land. The girl, under the sway of the Emperor’s power, seemed scarcely to notice the danger. She simply stood there, staring vacantly, her face aglow in the red light of the crossed blades. The Emperor’s mouth twisted in a snarl, and Vader felt his power gathering. Behind Vader, Deez raised his rifle and aimed it at Vader’s back, but Vader stretched his free hand back and unleashed a blast of power that lifted the guardsman from his feet and flung him into the trees. Branches cracked audibly under the impact of Deez’s body. Vader and his Master stared at each other across the sizzling glow of their crossed blades. “Has it come to this?” his Master said. He sounded calm, almost resigned, but not at all surprised. The tone surprised Vader. “Forgive me, Master,” he said, and deactivated his blade. “I think the girl can be of use to us.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The girl, Drua, takes them to very home and does everything she can to help them. After everything was said and done, Palpatine orders Vader to kill her and everyone in her village. And Vader does it. Not because he wants it. but because he’s too apathetic to care. Too trapped in his toxic relationship with Palpatine to see things for what they really were.

“There’s work for that yet, my friend,” the Emperor said, nodding at the hilt of Vader’s blade.

 “Master?”

 “The villagers, Lord Vader. Drua and her people. We can’t allow so many witnesses to live. I’ll wait for you here.” 

Vader looked from his Master to the dark mouth of the mine inside of which Drua and the rest of the villagers had fled. He felt the Emperor’s eyes on him, the intensity of the gaze, the weight of his expectations, and Vader knew that the day’s events had been only half about depleting a rebel movement before it could grow. They had also, as Vader had suspected, been about testing him, forcing him to face the ghosts of his past and exorcise them forever and fully. He saw that more clearly now; saw, too, that his Master was right to administer the test. It also explained why his Master had shown so little of his true power throughout the day. Perhaps he’d wanted Vader to rely on himself to overcome the challenges they’d faced. Or perhaps he’d wanted to seem weaker than he was, to draw out any treacherous ambitions Vader may have held. “I hear and I obey, Master,” Vader said. He ignited his lightsaber and strode toward the cave, his mind drifting back to another day, a day when he strode into the Jedi Temple filled with nothing but younglings. He’d slaughtered them then, and he would slaughter the Twi’leks now. His Master’s laughter followed him into the cave, and it lingered in his mind, louder even than the screams of the Twi’leks as they began to die by his blade. When it was done, he returned to his Master’s side. “Well done, old friend,” Darth Sidious said. He wiped his hands, as if to clean them of dirt. “And now let’s move on to more important things.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The only time Vader cared enough to influence his behavior was with Luke. All the other times, there were a glimpse of something – of the old Anakin – like when he saw C3PO or even Ahsoka. But not enough for him empathize with people.

Qui-Gon had a interesting theory about this. He believed Anakin – to survive – had to bury that side of him so Vader could exist. An Anakin who cares cannot be Vader. He buried all the good things about Anakin.

“Master, is Darth Vader Anakin?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. “Although the Anakin you and I knew is imprisoned by the dark side. […]The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

As terrible as life as Vader is, facing Anakin Skywalker’s decisions and living with them would be much, much harder. That’s why only when Luke demonstrated his unconditional love that Anakin allowed himself to reemerge.

Vader saw his son crying, and knew it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beheld. It intensified, momentarily, Vader’s own sense of anguish—to his crimes, now, he added guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brought him to mind of the way he used to look—striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he’d looked once. And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend … and how that friendship had turned. Turned, he knew not how—but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until … hold. These were memories he wanted none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back … no. This boy had pulled him from that pit—here, now, with this act. This boy was good. The boy was good, and the boy had come from him—so there must have been good in him, too. He smiled up again at his son, and for the first time, loved him. And for the first time in many long years, loved himself again, as well.  [James Kahn. Return of the Jedi]

Vader didn’t hate the world. He hated himself.

And because of that he bury everything that was remotely good and positive about himself as deep as he could. So his behavior, his lack of empathy wasn’t about him being sadistic. He was simply too broken and trapped in a deeply abusive relationship to care for the world around him.

[rims-things]

Fanfiction - One Shot

Fanfiction

Show : Doom at your Service

Myul Mang / Kim Saram x Dong Kyung

Setup : Kim Saram falls sick for the first time in his life. Thankfully Dong Kyung is there to take care of him

Concept suggested by : @dizistyles ❤

"Hello? You there ? "

Dong Kyung walked across her room , speaking into her phone and waiting for him to reply. It was already late at night and ever since he turned into a human, he would often fall asleep without warning.

She chuckled, imagining how sweetly he might be cuddled up in the bed.

"You're asleep. Good night Kim Saram.." she said before cutting the call.

Dong Kyung walked back to her laptop to note down whatever information she had just taken down for her novel.

She woke up the next day , expecting to get a call from him. She impatiently kept checking her phone , but all in vain. There was absolutely no news of him.

But he had promised to drop me to work today - She wondered.

When it was about time he should have come to pick her up, she instantly felt anxious.

Did he disappear? Was it a dream? Was it all a dream?

She panicked and quickly dialed his phone number with shivering hands.

Pick up! Please.. please pick up! - She begged.

.

.

"Hello?" His voice was weak but felt like a blessing to her ears.

She took a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?? Why didn't you come ?" She asked trying to calm herself down.

He suddenly realized that he had been asleep all this while and it was late already.

"I... I'm.." he couldn't speak properly.

"Saram? .. are you okay ?" She started getting worried.

He slowly sat up on his bed and squeezed his eyes.

"I don't feel good." He said in a low voice.

That was enough for Dong Kyung to immediately pick up her bag and leave for his house. Not that she was just worried what might be wrong, but she was always anxious about his disappearance.

Saram held his head in his palms and groaned in pain.

"Ahhhh! Why does it feel so bad " he said to himself.

Ofcourse he was a doctor, and he knew everything about the human body. But only in theory.

He kept whining about the situation when Dong Kyung crashed into his room. His face lit up instantly.

"Saram.. are you okay ??" She said, running towards him.

"Ya.. i am fine.. i think i have what you call a... 'headache' " he said with a forced smile, he felt terrible from inside.

Dong Kyung could see the bizarre look on his face and immediately understood that he was not well.

"Hey! Don't lie to me.." she said, sitting next to him and caressing his cheek with her tiny fingers.

She jumped in horror. His skin was burning with fever.

"YA! Saram! You are burning!" She shouted feeling panicked.

He looked at her with a confused and dull look. He felt strange, sleepy, heavy on the head and weak.

"Burning ? " He said touching his face. "Aah.. so I have a 'fever' ?" He asked sounding curious.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and pressed her foot hard on the floor.

"How can you not know that you have a fever, when you are a doctor by profession?" She taunted.

"I've seen sick people but i haven't fallen sick myself.. how would I know how it feels ?" He said with a straight face as if it was so obvious.

Dong Kyong shook her head and stood up from the bed to leave.

He immediately held her hand back.

"Where are you going? Don't leave me... I'm sick ." He pleaded like a child.

Sometimes he was such a baby and she couldn't help but love him even more. She smiled at him warmly.

"I'm going to get you a medicine" she informed.

"Oh okay.." he said , releasing her hand immediately.

She chuckled at his tantrums and turned around to leave but he called out to her again.

"Dong Kyung..i also feel.. numb .. as if I have no energy.. as if I can't stand ? Or walk? Is that what you call 'weakness' ?" He asked, inquisitively.

She turned towards him and sighed.

"Yes... you're feeling weak because you are sick. You have a headache, you will feel dizzy, sleepy and lazy"

"Woah! You know a lot about being sick." He exclaimed.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and sighed helplessly. He was impossible

"I'll be right back" she said before walking out.

By the time she returned, he had covered himself with a blanket and fallen asleep.

She quietly kept the medicine and a glass of water next to him on the table. She sat beside him and caressed his temple.

"You look so cute when you are asleep" she said softly.

"I know " he replied, with his eyes closed.

She frowned and hit him on the forehead.

"Kim Saram! Don't put on an act, get up and take your medicine if you are awake. "

He smiled and held her hand, slowly sitting up.

"But I haven't eaten anything.."

"That's why I made you something. Eat it. Have medicine and take rest."

"Ah.." he looked at the breakfast kept next to him. ".. that is what my wife would do...wait ...is that a proposal? I say Yes .. lets get married today?" He exclaimed.

She pushed him back with a shy smile.

"Just do what I said"

He frowned at her and unwillingly went ahead to have his breakfast, but it felt terrible to sit and eat. He felt dizzy and lethargic.

"Ah.. i don't want to eat Dong Kyung.. can't i just sleep?? This feels so terrible.." he complained .

She immediately took the plate in her hand and started feeding him herself.

He smirked and happily took a bite without question. Was there any point saying No to her?

"If you don't eat, how will you get better? Don't you know .. Doctor??" She mocked.

He chuckled and continued to take bites, without moving his eyes away from her face. He couldn't thank the Goddess enough for letting him see her again.

After she was done, she handed over a tablet and a glass of water to him.

"Have this. I'll be back " she said before leaving with the plates.

By the time she returned, she had expected him to be done with the medicine, but she found him sitting and staring at the tablet instead.

"What ? " She asked.

He looked up at her with an innocent smile.

"I haven't taken a tablet ever before... does it pain?" He asked.

Dong Kyung chuckled.

"Haven't you seen your patients take it? Do they cry?"

"No"

"Then just swallow it with water. It doesn't hurt" she said, smiling at him.

"What if it gets stuck in my throat? Will I die ?"

"It won't. Just gulp it down."

"Okay.." he nodded and took the tablet as if it was the biggest stunt of his whole life.

"Goshh! How could you be a doctor.?" She wondered.

"Aaachooo" he suddenly sneezed and felt shocked. " What was that " he said to himself.

"Aaa.. I see.. you got wet in the rain last night didn't you? Now you're sneezing." Dong Kyung explained.

"Woah! It felt weird.. it was so sudden.. is that how you feel when u sneeze ??" He asked.

Dong Kyung laughed seeing him experience all such things for the first time in his life. She somehow felt satisfied that he was totally a human now.

She carefully made him lie down on the bed and sat next to him with a piece of cloth and bowl of water.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"It will help to get your fever down quicker" she said.

"I know that. But you don't have to do it  .. I am fine. Aachooo! ......Yaaa! ....That feels bad" he said.

She giggled and continued to wet the cloth and put it on his head until his fever was down. He kept looking at the calmness on her face and felt his pain fade away.

Hardly did he know when he dozed off.

Dong Kyung kept looking at his innocent face and recalled how he used to be few months ago. How he was simply existing, neither alive nor dead. But today he was living and experiencing everything he had ever wanted.

She quietly walked to the other side of his bed and laid down next to him, running her fingers through his soft hair.

"I love you so much..." she whispered and shut her eyes, feeling his cheeks against her palm.

He felt better when he opened his eyes after having a good rest. He still felt a bit weak but mostly fine. He tried to move his head when he realized that someone was sleeping cuddled up in his arms.

He could feel her silky hair touching his chin when he looked down. She was sleeping peacefully against his chest and in his embrace. He couldn't help but smile and blush.

"You're so small.." he chuckled, and caressed her head.

She moved her head up slowly and spoke with her eyes half open.

"Are you feeling better ?"

"Yes ...with you in my arms, I feel way better " he said.

She felt shy and immediately tried to get herself out if his grip but he held her back.

"Don't go..I'm sick.." he said, but his look was rather intense than mischievous.

She felt a familiar tension in the air with the fire he had in his eyes and unknowingly approached his lips. Without wasting a second, he kissed her back gently.

She wrapped her arms tighter around him and he brushed his fingers on her cheeks. They kissed for a while and parted.

Dong Kyung was left flustered, while Saram smiled satisfactorily. He turned around and picked up the tablets kept next to his bed.

Handing over the tablets to her he spoke.

"Now you'll need this too ..." he chuckled.

"Just shut up. Creep! Why did you kiss me ?" She complained.

"I kissed you?? You approached first..."

"No..what do you mean ..?"

Their kisses might last for seconds, but their bickering knows no end.

A/N : That's all folks. I hope I did not bore you ☹ Sorry if there were silly mistakes 🥲 Didn't proof read it 😶 I wanted to write more but my office people are cruel 💔💔 I wish I could make it better, but that all I could do this time 😅 Thanks @dizistyles for the suggestion, I loved writing this. 💙

[peaceoutofthepieces]

chapter 30

The Stars Look Very Different

Social Media AU

previous chapter

tag list: @yellowballoon @cleocc @ijzermanora @boldlydeepestcupcake @pduwd @notallthereyall @gingerhead007 @groeneweiden @nyttvera @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @curiouskopf @engelkeijsers @xiaomailab @honeyandsinn @lauren-bk @saraben00 @tailsbeth @boysrunaway @howlingsaturn @menamesniall

I only decided to do this this morning and that’s why it’s so late. super sorry. I hope you still like it ❤️ and as always, sorry for any mistakes

Warning: discussion of mental illness

~^~

Robbe pulled Sander after him, away from where Jens and Lucas were still curled up on the sofa, into his bedroom where he could shut the door tight behind them. He almost expected Sander to flop right onto his bed, but instead he stayed right behind Robbe, ready to bring him closer once he turned, shifting a hand into his hair and connecting their lips.

Robbe made a small sound in his throat and then sighed, gripping at Sander’s waist to pull him closer, even though the other boy had already done well at eliminating the space between them. Still, the kiss was kept soft, free of their usual urgency but with a familiar neediness, the constant desire to be ever closer. This was evident when Sander pulled away only to press his forehead against Robbe’s, eyes shut and hand still firm on the back of his neck, not letting him pull away. Robbe wouldn’t have even if Sander wasn’t holding him. He had no reason to want to be anywhere else.

“Your bed looks very appealing,” Sander mumbled, lips brushing against Robbe’s.

Robbe hummed. “You also look very appealing. I think a combination of the two would be truly mind blowing.”

Sander huffed, and Robbe just had time to trace a fingertip over his smile before he leaned back in for another kiss. Robbe gladly reciprocated, but moved his hands to slide under the edges of Sander’s zip-up hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the end of his bed. Then he gave the same shoulders a careful push, and Sander let himself be guided backwards, finally falling onto the mattress with a pleased sigh. He held his arms out immediately, however, making grabby hands towards Robbe, who complied without an ounce of hesitance, crawling over Sander and settling on his hips. He cupped his face and squished his cheeks, making Sander laugh through puckered lips that Robbe eventually leaned down to kiss.

“This is why it’s better being at yours,” Sander mumbled, and Robbe couldn’t argue. He ducked his head down to trace kisses along Sander’s jawline, peppering his cheek, the spot behind his ear, further down his neck. Sander melted further with every press of his lips, sinking lax into the bed underneath him. It left Robbe grinning against his skin, nipping at it lightly with his teeth to make Sander whine and squirm away.

Sander huffed as he pushed Robbe off him, only to follow him onto their sides and pull him back in by the waist. Robbe giggled and slid his hands back over his cheeks as he kissed him again.

“Wait, do that again.” Sander drew his head away, gazing at Robbe in something a little too much like awe, making him turn his face into the pillow and groan.

“Do what?”

“That little giggle.”

Robbe groaned again. “Oh my god.”

“Please, Robbe, it’s so cute. What do I have to do?”

“Leave me alone, preferably.”

Sander pouted, shaking his head rapidly at Robbe’s denial, squeezing his sides pleadingly. It had the unintended effect of making Robbe wriggle, an aborted laugh escaping him.

They both froze.

“Oh my god—“

“No,” Robbe warned.

“—you’re ticklish,” Sander finished, and now that was definitely awe. “Oh my god. Why did I not know that?”

“I am not ticklish.”

Sander rose a disbelieving brow. His fingers twitched against Robbe’s side. Robbe’s hand flew down to still them.

Sander snorted and kissed his nose, tugging him in closer and slotting a leg between Robbe’s. “Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” Robbe breathed, in the instant before Sander’s lips connected with his and all words were lost. He couldn’t help but make this kiss deeper, threading his fingers into Sander’s hair and parting his lips. The faint ache in his head had all but slipped away, soothed under Sander’s gentle touch.

Sander himself was a little more lethargic than usual, but no less responsive. He reacted easily to Robbe, lips parting and tongues tangling and hands drifting. Robbe had to keep his grin under control as Sander’s hands slipped under his shirt, skimming over his sides to settle against his back, tracing light patterns. Robbe hummed against his lips and felt him smile, and then Sander brushed over a faint scar.

Robbe’s heart skipped, but Sander’s movements hadn’t stopped, so Robbe kissed him harder and hoped that would be enough. Instead Sander’s hand trailed back over his side, around to his front, and landed on another old mark.

“You really like getting yourself into trouble, huh,” Sander said, and Robbe lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He didn’t want to discuss this.

Instead, he thought of a new tactic, and lifted himself up before pulling his shirt over his head. He rose a brow as Sander gazed up at him, unflinching, nothing giving him away but the slight uptick of his lips. It didn’t take long for him to reach out, sliding his hands back over Robbe’s skin as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. However, instead of drawing him into another kiss, Sander leaned forward and pressed his lips to Robbe’s collarbone, where another scar rested over the bone.

He looked up at Robbe through his lashes, and Robbe smiled at him and gave his hair a light tug. “And you call me the cute one,” Robbe mumbled.

Sander smiled brightly as Robbe traced a finger down his cheek and kissed his forehead. He remained silent as Robbe dropped back onto his pillow with a sigh. Sander followed, rolling onto his side to face him and waiting patiently.

“You remember how I told you about...why I’m staying here?”

Sander nodded, expression gentle. “About your mom?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Sander said softly.

Robbe offered him a smile. “I don’t, usually. It’s not really something I talk about. But I want to tell you.”

Sander’s nod was encouraging.

“She, uh. She suffers from psychotic depression.”

He waited, but nothing in Sander’s expression changed, so he went on.

“She’s always managed it okay. Even when she’d have her episodes of psychosis—she was brought out of them pretty easily. Then when I was thirteen, her mother died. She didn’t take it well. Her episodes got worse. But it was still something we managed, still something she had control of. Then I turned fifteen, and my dad decided he’d had enough. He packed up and disappeared. A few weeks later she was admitted for the first time.”

Sander gently took his hand where it lay between them, rubbing his thumb over the back of his fingers.

“I had to stay with Jens for a week. I’ve had to a lot of times since then. But I never wanted to—to actually leave her. We managed. She was only ever gone for a week or so at most, and it really wasn’t that frequent. Then this past year...it wasn’t so good. She’d space out more often. Talk to herself and then act like nothing happened. She was admitted again just days after I met you and they haven’t been able to release her since.”

“Fuck, Robbe,” Sander muttered.

Robbe shook his head. “When I went to see her—the time I told you about it—it was bad, Sander. They called me because they’d had to sedate her. She was convinced she was being held prisoner, that someone was coming to her. To hurt her. She knocked down one of the nurses. But when I went to see her—“ Robbe paused, choked, “—she didn’t know who I was. She just looked right through me. It was like she couldn’t see me, couldn’t hear me. She acted like I wasn’t even there. That’s never happened before. They called me because—because I’m the only one who’s always been able to calm her down. But she couldn’t even remember me. I meant nothing to her.”

Sander shook his head, ready to protest, but Robbe went on before he could.

“That’s why I drank so much and why I—why I just needed you there. I just felt so...so alone and so stupid and so insignificant. And I knew I’d stop feeling like that if I had you. I never feel like that when I’m with you.”

He looked between Sander’s eyes intently, begging him to understand, and Sander shifted forward and wrapped him up in his arms. Robbe sunk against him, tucking his arms around his waist as Sander kissed his cheek and then tucked his chin over his shoulder. He ran his hands soothingly up and down Robbe’s back, and Robbe was horrified to realise his cheeks were wet. But Sander hadn’t said anything, and he still wasn’t. He simply held Robbe together until he stopped feeling like he was about to crack apart, and Robbe clung to his shirt and allowed his comfort to seep through him.

“I’m sorry, Robbe,” Sander whispered against his neck. “I had no idea.”

Robbe pressed his face to his shoulder and shook his head. “There was no way you could have.”

“I could have been here more.”

“Sander, if you were here anymore, your parents would start to think you’d been kidnapped.”

Sander didn’t react the way he’d expected to the joke. He barely reacted at all. He just tightened his grip on Robbe and said, “You shouldn’t have had to deal with all that.”

Robbe shifted away, onto his back, as he shook his head. “She’s my mama, and I love her. Sometimes the worry just takes over. It’s just—the first thing they did was tell us all these ways it could get worse. Like she had more chance of developing further psychotic problems, or that it could develop into bipolar disorder. I don’t know how to deal with it sometimes. It just gets too much.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, harsh, as Sander remained quiet. When he looked over, Sander wasn’t looking back. He’d dropped his gaze to a spot on the sheets, even as he continued to stroke absentmindedly over Robbe’s hand.

Robbe smiled self-deprecatingly. “What a way to kill the mood, huh?”

Sander looked up at that, and there was something equal parts fierce and haunted in his gaze as he stared at Robbe. He moved his other hand up to stroke over Robbe’s cheek, then leaned forward to kiss him deeply. Robbe couldn’t even feel surprise, too relieved as he kissed back, allowing Sander’s intensity to encase him and remind him there was nothing unsure about this.

He pulled back and looked at Robbe seriously as he wiped the remaining dampness from his cheeks. “Thank you for being honest with me, Robbe.”

Robbe smiled, sneaking a short kiss to his nose. “Thank you for listening to me.” They lay and watched each other for a moment, and then Robbe chanced a lazy smirk. “I suppose it’s too much to pick up where we left off?”

Sander smiled again, and this time it was tired. “I don’t think this hangover is going to appreciate much more action, to be honest.”

Robbe snorted and gave his hand a tug, laying flat on his back again and drawing Sander with him.

Sander lay his head on his chest and dropped a kiss over his heart, hugging him tightly around the waist. “I just wanna stay here with you for a little while longer.”

The words were no more than a whisper, and Robbe held him tighter and dropped a kiss on his head as a weight slipped from his shoulders. “You can stay as long as you like.”

[foodcourtdetective]

Sleeping with Other People AU: Chapter One: First Time

summary: Dr. Spencer Reid runs into his first time Y/N after a car chase gone bad. They decide not to complicate their friendship by not sleeping together, but it proves to be harder than they think as they slowly fall terribly in love with each other. 

tags: sleeping with other people au, first time, virgin!spencer reid, slow burn, college!spencer reid but only in chapter 1, friends to lovers, TENSION, sexual themes, commitment issues, brief mention of cannibalism but it’s praying mantises calm down armie hammer

A/N: I have 12 parts planned out so please don’t let this flop girlies and non-binary buddies

word count 1.8k

AO3 x

May 13, 1999. Spencer Reid would not attempt to remember a day as unremarkable as this one. Sure, Mozart's first opera premiered, and the Bezalel Art School opened on the other May 13ths of history. But this particular date was in the midst of his finals. He was trying to work through a particularly difficult physics calculation when suddenly—

"HEYYYYYYYY!!! SOBEVICH??? YOU HERE, BUD???" The banging on his door, paired with an intoxicated feminine screeching, was incessant. Reid scoffed, maintaining focus on the task at hand. If you divide x by—

"MATTTTTHEEWWWW??!! COME GET Y'ALL'S JUICE!!" In response, he slammed the pencil down. A little shouting and banging wouldn't typically break his concentration that quickly. However, certain variables (a lack of sleep, other commotion in the dorms prior, not to mention a certain someone not responding to his AOL messages for over 48 hours) had brought him to the edge faster than a cliff diver. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, Reid stormed up to his door and yanked it open.

"Heyyyyy wait a second... youuuuuu aren't Matty boyyyyy!" The nuisance in question wasn't his type at all. Her hair was too black and choppy, her eyes too dark with liner smudged everywhere, and her skirt was basically a napkin over her lap that highlighted her purple panties that were visible to anyone with eyes. Her painted lips twisted into a pout as she looked him up in down with interest. Before he could speak, RA Gideon turned the corner of the hallway and, spotting his target, picked up his pace.

"YOU! Young lady, you're not supposed to enter a dorm without getting signed in!" The girl snapped her gaze away from Reid to roll her eyes and drunkenly face the RA.

"I'm heeere! Can't someone else sign in for me?? I'm waiting for a friennnnd!" Gideon's face darkened with barely veiled annoyance, looking over to Reid.

"Is this girl bothering you? I can call campus police to escort her—"

"N-no! It's fine! She's here to see my roommate Matthew." Reid grabbed the clipboard out and scribbled down the details, looking frantically at the girl for her name.

"Y/N L/N aaaand NERDDD BOY are besties!!" She slurred in response. Gideon huffed as he scanned Reid's face carefully.

"Are you sure, Reid? She's your responsibility if anything happens." The student nodded once in reply, muttering thanks as he handed over the clipboard. Taking Y/N by the wrist, Reid pulled her into his room. He shut the door behind them with urgency but was careful not to slam it. Y/N scratched her bare knee lethargically, accidentally flashing him further.

"Alllrighty, here you look a little cold," he squeaked, awkwardly averting his eyes and turning his attention to his dresser to grab her a Cal Tech sweater his mom made him before she had to leave home. Y/N stumbled, leaning on the bed for stability as she took her heels off. As she did so, she took notice of the two beds pushed together.

"Does Matty even live here?? The beds are holding hands?" Reid managed a pitiful laugh as he tossed her the sweater. Pulling a face, she pulled it on. He gulped, noticing the hem barely skimmed her thighs. At least the purple is put away. Realizing he had caused a long pause in the terrible attempt at conversation, Reid quickly looked away from Y/N again.

"N-no, he lives with his boyfriend at Baker." Y/N's eyes widened, her lip trembling a little bit in shock as she hugged herself with the too-big sleeves.

"Dammmn, I shoulda known a brainiac like that was a bisexual. Didn't peg him for playing so hard to get otherwise."

"Did he try to flirt with you? Because he's basically married to Adam and not to mention the stereotype of bisexuals cheating-"

"is inaccurate and offensive blah blah blah I know, I am one... Nah, I was just hoping that being more forward would seal the deal! But I would never purposefully try to hook up with someone taken... and you're no longer listening to me," Y/N cut off her rambling as he had gravitated helplessly towards his brick of a computer with a glowing screen. He chewed on his lip thoughtlessly, only looking up when he felt Y/N's exasperated gaze on him.

"Sorry, I-I've been waiting for a message..." Y/N scuffled over beside him, her bare feet sticking slightly to the wood floor. Reid winced as she leaned across him to rest her hands beside the keyboard. He tried to move out of her way, but she ended up with her back pressed against him. Don't be embarrassing. Digits of Pi GO! 3.1415926—

"Oh, I know Jennifer! We went to East Allegheny. Fucking smoke show, but she has this praying mantis vibe," she said matter of factly. Reid's mouth gaped open and closed.

"A-what vibe?"

"You know... how they fuck! With the—"

"Female praying mantis engaging in cannibalistic mating behavior, biting off the head or legs of her mate and eating them. I've heard of it, but you should know that that behavior occurs in less than 30 percent of all mating sessions in the wild." As Reid rattled on, he slowly became aware of her piercing eyes on him and the warmth of her back. He sucked in a breath, cutting himself off from going further.

"Wow! Guess you weren't really studying! I'm sorry I interrupted your terrible Thursday evening," she quipped, gesturing to the now-abandoned physics equation. He hurried to close the notebook, tucking it away in his desk as he began to sweat.

"Oh, that! That wasn't studying! I was calculating to calm down." Reid somehow didn't expect the not-unfriendly laugh to erupt in front of him. She bent down to brace herself on her upper thighs as she guffawed, unintentionally pulling the sweater up from the back. Without thinking, he pulled it down for her dignity, but she grabbed his wrist tightly as he completed the action and locked eyes with him.

"What are you, a physicist?" She asked playfully. He gulped again as Y/N watched the movement of his prominent Adam's apple.

"N-not really. I'm working on my chemistry and mathematics masters right now, but I finished my physics MA last semester." She whistled in response, impressed.

"They LET you have that many?? Wait..." Her heated eye contact wavered, flicking up and down his body.

"There's no way! You're only like sixteen!"

"I'm EIGHT-teen! And yeah, I signed a waiver saying that MIT is not responsible for any poor grades or drops in my mental state," he winced as his voice cracked on his age.

"Guess what they say about MIT being smarted than BU kids is right! My med-track major could never be as flexible as yours, virgin," Y/N quipped, cheekily checking out the dark flush of crimson on his cheeks as he pulled away from her grip, facing the wall in frustration of two different types.

"WH-WHY! Why would you-"

"Spence, you're waiting by the computer for a direct message!" Reid sputtered in response, the nickname he had signed off as in her mouth sounded both so wrong and so right as he adjusted his stance to hide an unfortunate situation going on downstairs. Y/N rolled her eyes again as Reid suddenly realized that he loved the color of her eyes more than any color he had ever seen in his life, including Jennifer's. After a long, not uncomfortable, silence, Y/N made a step toward him, suddenly hesitant.

"Don't get your sweater all wrinkled! I'm a virgin too. That's why I came— you better fix that expression on your face, kid!" Reid realized that his shock had painted his face too clearly, flapping his hands frantically as he watched her face drop. The visible vulnerability struck a nerve within him; he didn't know if it was good or bad. As she turned back to the computer, he touched her shoulder in an attempt to get her to look at him.

"NO! No! Not in a bad way! Just individuals who are sexually confident in their self-image with a certain presentation tend to have already completed the act!" Y/N scoffed, rolling her shoulder to get away as if it burned her.

"PLEASE! Now who's engaging in the stereotypes, genius?"

"I'm sorry! You're just too beaut-attract-hot..." Reid kept cutting himself off in an attempt to quantify her looks properly. Y/N chuckled to herself, charmed as she finally looked to watch him fluster himself to try to rectify the insult.

"It's okay... You don't have to say anything. I mean, I couldn't even get Matthew fucking Sobevich to fuck me. As the guest TA, he managed to make four of my classmates pass out within the hour." She cast her eyes downward, fiddling with the loose string on the sweater near the sleeve. Reid swallowed, stepping closer to her. He bent his knees, basically in a squat, to try to get eye contact.

"You deserve better than Matt. I mean, look at you!" He gestured awkwardly at her whole body before framing her face with his fingertips. Y/N finally looked at him, the inner workings of her thoughts almost visible in her eyes as she straightened her gaze to bring him standing up. She cautiously brought her hand up to his chest, right over his heart.

"Well, if you want to date someone like JJ... you might want some experience... We could-- let's get it out of the way!" Y/N carefully explained her idea, her fingers walking up to brush against his Adam's apple. Reid shivered, pulling away to retreat toward his bed, almost involuntarily giving in to her plan.

"I-this was all supposed to be very romantic!! And-and now you've gone and just fucked it up!!" He squealed, watching as Y/N crossed her arms to take off his sweater from the bottom. She came over to sit on the bed, thoughtfully taking a second to let him gather himself before curling her index finger under his chin to get him to look at her.

"You are going to drive some girl crazy someday. With your long, Kurt Cobain hair and that infuriating mouth of yours," Y/N whispered sincerely, moving her finger to trace up his jaw and to hook under his glasses. Reid's breathing hitched, but he kept his gaze on her as she pulled his glasses off and gently put them on the nightstand.

"Say the word, and I'll stop. Say you don't want this, and we won't," Y/N continued, her other hand shaking on his knee as she inched closer to him. As she closed her eyes, Reid closed the gap between them, the hiss of heavy breathing from his nose the only noise in the room. She responded immediately, wrapping her fingers in his hair as they fell against the bed. Suddenly, May 13, 1999, wasn't so unremarkable after all.

[laketaj24]

The Rules IV: Triggered

Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader

Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.

Want to catch up! Click HERE

Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy

If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.

“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”

He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.

“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”

The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.

Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer.  The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.

Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?

You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.

Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?

Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?

Henry: A response would be nice.

Henry: Y/N

Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.

Henry: Be there in ten.

Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?

You hit send of the picture you'd saved.

Henry: Wow.

The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.

"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"

"Are you finishing acting like-."

"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."

"Y/N."

"I said get the fuck out!"

His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."

Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.

You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."

"Fuck you." You whispered.

In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.

The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.

The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.

The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.

The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.

It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.

“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.

You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”

“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.

“You heard me.” You pointed at him.

“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”

Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”

He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”

“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.

“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.

“Get out.” He said to her.

“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”

“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”

“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”

“You changed your number.”

“What did you expect?”

“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”

“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.  

It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”

“She is my girlfriend.” He said.

The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”

“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”

“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”

“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”

“I can’t talk here.”

“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”

“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”

“Fine.”

 You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.

“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.

“Just tell me.”

“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”

“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”

“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.

“Who do you think hired you?”

“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.

“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”

“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”

Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”

“Dogs beg.” You spat.

“Anything.” He rasped.

“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”

How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.

“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”

There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.

“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.

“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”

“I could never forget.”

“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”

Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.

“Did you miss me?”

“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”

You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”

“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Understand?”

“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.

Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.

You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.

But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.

“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.

Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.

The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.

“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”

He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.

It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”

“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”

  His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.

“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.

Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.

Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”

“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.

“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”

[greasygyeom]

gigil | ten

pairing: Ten x Female Reader (Fluff)

words: 1.9k

warnings: might be disgustingly cute idk.

A/N: Gigil is a word used to describe the overwhelming feeling that comes over us when we see something cute.

At 1 am, with bare minimum noises in the background, save for a stray car zooming away in the distance and a blanket of stars overhead, Ten walked back to his apartment; feet dragging on the pavement, as they traced his displeasure along the way. 

For the third night in a row he’d had to stay overtime at office, simply because someone else had been too lazy to finish their portion of work assigned to them.

Had it been any other day, he would have pulled through without feeling this level of annoyance. Any other week, he would not have complained; he liked working alone, when no one was around to disturb him and ask him stupid questions. But the fact that this was happening during the few days your schedule wasn’t as tight knit as usual, was really testing his patience.

He’d thought long and hard on whether he was being too dramatic about it, because it wasn’t like he never got to see you—your off days always had his name written on them—it was just that off-late he’d been wanting to see a lot more of you.

For him, dating you had started as a breezy ‘hmm I’ll see where this takes me, I’m not looking for anything serious’, but had quickly and quite irreversibly morphed into an intense whirlwind of ‘fuck, I might love her’ and at the end of six months it had rendered him dizzy. 

He didn’t know when exactly he’d started to crave more of your attention, but on days it overpowered his entire existence. He wasn't yet used to the out of the blue pangs of wanting to hug you until you fell asleep in his arms, but he loved the warm and fuzzy feeling thoughts like these left him with.

On most days he could prioritise his work over his neediness for you. Today though? Today had been one of those days, where it had served as a roadblock between what he had to do and what he really wanted to do. Instead of being in bed, cuddled with you, watching a cute coming of age movie, he had to stay back and redraw the anatomy for a new character because some of his peers were incompetent. 

Half an hour of brooding and a long silent walk later, he finally reached his building. On his last call you had already been yawning, so he assumed you were fast asleep and entered the apartment as quietly as he possibly could… only to find you lying on the floor.

His heart dropped down to his stomach as the worst, most horrible thoughts of you being injured and unconscious and him being too late in taking you to the hospital clouded his mind.

His panic lasted only about 30 seconds though, until he switched on the lights and it unravelled a completely different story.

You were passed out on the floor alright, but because you’d fallen asleep cuddling with his cat. He didn’t see the cat because your back was facing the entrance. Louis had fit himself comfortably in the crevice of your concave form, lying curled up, snug next to your stomach and was using your arm as a pillow.

Ten’s heartbeat slowed down with the realisation that you were indeed alive and okay and he breathed in a sigh of relief, giggling fondly at the sight of you two sleeping so peacefully; completely unaware of his presence. 

He was kinda jealous of Louis, which was an insane thought, but he wanted in on what looked like a super cozy cuddle session.

Of course, he had to grab his phone and take some pictures first—how could he pass off this opportunity to stock up on some free serotonin. But as soon as he was done taking photos from every angle, he sat on the floor next to you, your back towards him, and rested his chin on your waist. It was a challenge to not kiss the sliver of skin peeking through, from between your shirt and boxers and an even bigger challenge to not wake you up.

He extended an arm to pet Louis, but the cat wasn’t having any of it. 

Within minutes Louis was out of sight and reach and it was just the two of you, on the cold floor. With no cat to disturb, his attention naturally wandered over to you. It was too tempting to not kiss your bare skin. Your hands were tucked under your head, like a makeshift pillow; sooner than later you were bound to get uncomfortable—it only made sense to wake you up. It was definitely not because you looked too cute and he couldn’t stand not being able to squish you. 

“Baby” he whispered softly, “Wake up.” 

You stirred at the sound of his voice, pushing your body towards him, but not really moving.

He had the widest grin plastered on his face, just looking at you. “Let’s go to bed, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

You hummed in response, too lethargic to actually move and also just a scat annoyed.

When he stroked your cheek, you shivered under his touch, goosebumps forming all over your body. His touch was electric. 

Feeling a bit smug about the reaction he just elicited out of you, he pulled your shirt up, just enough to expose your waist, and planted soft kisses alongside your ribs.

You squirmed with every kiss, until you were wide awake and sitting upright, fighting him off.

“Why why why” he giggled, as you pushed him away.

“Why!! Look at the tiiime.” You whined, not letting him have his way for the 800th time.

His face fell, “I know baby, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I was really sulky the whole time I was there and not here.”

“No, that does not make me feel better.” You replied, “I don’t want you to sulk when you’re working.”

“Ayee you can’t have both.” 

“Both what?”

“Be mad at me and not let me be mad at my work.”

“I’m not mad at you.” You pouted, crawling into his lap, “I just really missed you.”

There was something so soothing about your presence, something he couldn’t really explain. He held you tight and buried his head in the crook of your neck, taking in the faint vanilla-esque scent you naturally emanated. 

“I missed you too, baby.”

You ran your fingers through his brownish-blonde hair, your heart skipping beats every time you felt his hot breath on your skin. You weren’t one to feel ticklish easily at all, except for under his touch. It was a phenomenon that perplexed you too. So when he slipped his hand under your shirt, to feel your skin, you shivered again. 

He raised his head and gave you a knowing, smug smile.

God he was so infuriating with how attractive he looked when he smiled like that.

“You’re lucky you’re this cute.”

He grinned even wider. “Oh? What’s that? You think I’m cute?”

“Yeah, I think you’re very cute. What of it?”

The cutest laugh escaped his lips and he cupped your face, “I think you’re cuter, now please kiss me.” 

He puckered his lips and in anticipation, closed his eyes, deliberately acting like a cringey young adult rom-com hero, but two could play that game, right?

You pecked him on his cheek instead. 

His dramatic reaction sent you into a fit of laughter and the whole time you were trying to contain yourself, he was gazing at you as if nothing else existed in his world, with the goofiest, most endearing smile on his face. 

He’d never told you he loved you—even though it’s all he’d thought about the past couple of days—partly because he was scared and partly because he didn’t want to scare you away. 

But the way you made his whole being melt into a mush of happiness, made him not want to hold it in anymore.

“Hey,” he interrupted your hysterics in a serious tone, causing you to stop and look at him. You couldn’t match the intensity in his eyes, but it sparked a wildfire at the pit of your stomach.

“I love you”

Did you hear that right? Did he say he loved you? 

“You what?”

“I love you.” 

You beamed ecstatically. “Good, ‘cuz I love you too.”

“Oh thank god” he exhaled in relief, but before he could finish that sentence you had him caught up in a long, sweet kiss that knocked the wind out of his lungs. 

In the dead of the night, you could only hear his soft moans as you bit and sucked on his lower lip. His hands wandered all over your body, grabbing and teasing you, while you focused on how he tasted like liquor and chocolate, without having any. 

Everything about him was intoxicating. 

“Let’s go in”, he signalled towards his room, when you finally parted away from him.

You looked delectable with your messy hair and slightly swollen lips. Ten wanted to devour you.

“Ohhhhh Mr. Lee why do you want to take me into your bedroom at 2:30 AM.. What are your intentions?” 

“To show you how much I love you.” he seduced, “Will you let me?”

“I’ll let you do whatever you want, baby” you replied, getting up and holding your hand out to help him.

“I wonder what good deeds I did to have found you in my life.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked towards his room. “And I wonder the exact opposite.”

He gasped. “Is that how it is huh? I guess you’ll never find out how much I love you then.”

“Aww.” You chuckled, closing the distance between you, “It’s okay, I can show you right here how much I love you instead?”

“No, I can feel Louis looking at us and I’m not about to traumatise my son. So, I’m gonna give him some treats and be right in.”

“Fifteen minutes or I’m going to sleep.”

“I’ll take five.”

“You and I both know you need at least fifteen minutes with Louis.”

How does this woman know me so well, he thought to himself walking over to where his cat was perched. 

“What do you think, Louis? Did I do the right thing” Ten whispered, nuzzling his nose in the fluffy fur. 

Louis meowed.

“Yeah, I think so too. She’s really great isn’t she.” 

Louis meowed again, making him chuckle.

While pouring some dry food in the bowl for his cat he realised he actually hadn’t eaten anything since afternoon, yet he felt full… full of this happiness and a kind of contentment that he’d never experienced before. He cringed at this disgustingly sappy thought and made his way back to you, into the bedroom. 

You were sprawled on the bed, already asleep, not even having managed to get under the blanket.

“So cute”, he fondly murmured, as he got in bed too and encompassed you completely in a hug—his arms now wrapped around your waist and one leg overlapping both of yours.

You stirred, but he pulled you in closer,

“It’s okay, go back to sleep baby.”

He heard a little affirmative hum and you turned around to face him—eyes half closed—to give him a tiny peck on his lips and then hid your face in his chest. 

You started falling back into your world of dreams and he fell right in with you, following you through a field of daisies, admiring your beauty as the sun glowed on your face; just like he would if you were awake. And tell you a thousand times over how beautiful he thought you were and love you and kiss you until you fell right back into his arms at the end of every night. 

There was something so sweet about that feeling, it made you smile and you thought yeah… it seemed like a good way to spend the rest of your life.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The boy on the farthest table

Kanene’s Notes:

So, I’ve been reading all the fluff content with Dadzawa I could find and I am very surprised I didn’t manage to stumble in a Dadzawa running a Cat Café so I thought ‘h e y’ why don’t I make it??? SO here we are!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Dadzawa and Yamadad and their relatonship can be seen as romantic, if you wish.

* This happens in the same universe as This Fanfic Here and you can also find it on AO3.

* No warnings this time!! Only fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing the manga/anime Boku no Hero.

* Something around 2.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Eat a delicious snack, sleep a bit, take care and drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                         [~*~]

Aizawa doesn’t really care about his clients more than the strictly necessary amount. He arrived where he is because of the cats and the coffee. If people paid more because he decided to mix both together and open a business with that premise than better for him.

 So, yes. Aizawa doesn’t care at all about his clients. Neither held any favorites above the others, don’t matter what Yamada tried to imply with his ‘discrete’ smug eyes and knowing grin as, for the second time today, the black haired worker narrowed his eyes at the boy sitting on the farthest table, lost in his deep thoughts as he stared intently at his notebook just like he has been doing for the past two hours, lazy scribbles fulfilling the lines in a tired, yet determined attempt to keep going.

 The owner of the Cat Café didn’t really care about what his clients did as long it didn’t annoy his cats or him.

 However, that doesn’t mean he kept himself completely oblivious of what happened at his establishment nor the persons who attended there.

Perhaps he wasn’t the most enthusiastic worker there – that is why him and Hizashi had an unspoken agreement that he would stay firm on his place making drinks and serving pastries, sometimes scaring some insufferable clients away, while the louder, social friend would focus in talking and getting the orders, – but he knew enough to not be a bad one.

 He knew that the girl with yellow bright eyes and nuts and bolts shining in between her curls liked strawberry muffins, tended to not be able to stand still for much time, and visited on Fridays, so he always kept one baked sweet hidden for her on these days.

 Just like he always recognized that tall, skeleton-like adult as soon as his form crossed the door. A client who came especially for the cats and the Jasmin tea, although always sneaked a couple and more glares to the cat-themed cookies, so he made sure to “accidentally” drop one with the donuts he always asked to go for “- a friend! He loves them but is often very busied with work… So, I thought I could try and treat him a bit after everything he already did to me!” And also, who, in the next day, came back to attempt to pay for the free cookie but was, day after day, defeat by Hizashi’s stubbornness and convincing abilities, leading the loyal client to make sure to put a generous tip on the Tip Jar as a revenge, making sure to stare intently at the pouting worker during the whole process.

 Or the young girl with red eyes full of curiosity and a tongue full of questions which him and Yamada took turns to answer, eliciting shy smiles, bright excitement and a glare full of gratitude from her older brother, who used the free time to study while she ate and played with the kittens, sometimes even falling asleep when his two friends – an extremely quiet boy with a gigantic sweet tooth and an electric smiley girl who always convinced the younger one to help her to gather the biggest amount of sleepy cats to nap on the blond teen before he wakes up in the middle of purrs and laughter - accompanied them.

 That being said, Aizawa liked to be informed and, above everything else, was good at getting the information he needed. He mastered the skill of analyzing details and understanding situations others used to ignore, making connections and arriving to conclusions that seemed foreign to others, that is why he continued to cast quick frowns and glances to the boy, doesn’t liking at all how his brain continued to run and turn, seeking for any answer or hints of what happened to him, only to get at nowhere. He was, obviously, just trying to assert the situation, which had nothing to do with the fact that the boy – always shining, always with such a bright smile every time he ordered anything – was alone on this Saturday. A not so rare occasion, since even though the café was a common place for him and his friends to meet – an occurrence impossible to ignore due how full of energy and joy and chaos and energy they all were, - he also seemed very keen to spend hours writing and studying on his own.

 However, there was something different today. Something to do with how quiet, concentrated, calm, lethargic the teenager was acting the whole time, which worrie- no, intrigued him.

 Because Aizawa wasn’t worried. Of course not. That would be illogical and preposterous. He wasn’t anything to the child, not his family, not a friend, not a relative, just the guy who grunted a one-word answer every time the younger tried to make small talk and pretend to not notice him and Hizashi trading cute cat videos and pics during the blonde’s breaks.

 Hell, he didn’t even share more words than the necessary with the green haired boy. The longest interaction they ever had was when the younger one came to him on his first time visiting the place and asked for more cat toys, since all the available ones were already being used. Which maybe or maybe not led to Aizawa leaving his friend to deal alone with the orders while he took his time to show and explain the favorite toys of every cat the green boy pointed.

 Which was, sure, only a revenge on his boisterous coworker since the aforementioned interrupted his morning nap by tripping on him on his way to the kitchen (and yes, it was Yamada’s fault for not looking at where he’s going and obviously not Shouta’s because he decided to ‘JUST FREAKING PASS OUT ON THE FLOOR. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEE IT?’) and, not content with his actions, decided to lock the other out of his own establishment,  only letting him come back after lunch and, consequently, at least five hours of sleep, leaving him on the care of Nemuri, who proceeded to tease him unmercifully for the whole length of yesterday.

 Consequently, it was only a payback, of course. The gleam on the smaller’s eyes as he took notes on a well worn out notebook and the fact that, on the next Saturday, the boy distributed all the correct toys between his friends and their favorite cats were two completely ignorable things and therefore unrelated with the quick, barely visible smile appearing on the corner of his mouth on the respective day and every time he remembered that occurrence.

 But, when a quiet sniff reached his ears, Aizawa almost felt his neck crack with how quickly he turned on the other’s direction, just in time to see the ending of the teenager’s action of wiping a few tears away. The one who definitely didn’t get enough sleep on his entire life to deal with it sensed his left eye twitch.

 That. Is. It.

 “Shouta…” Hizashi whispered behind the usual smile he plastered for the customer in front of him, nodding while writing down what she said and chipping excitedly for her to just wait a little bit to get her order, deviating his attention to his friend when she moved away to sit in one of the unoccupied tables, both taking the opportunity of having no more customers in the line to held some private words. “Do you want me to go there?” his voice was bathed in worry, because his coworker was emotional like that.

 “No.” And Aizawa didn’t know why he was so fast to answer, however he was already washing his hands, mind running, seeking to remember how other people - besides his friends, who were barely humans, - worked. “You know I hate being the cashier.”

 “Riight.” His way-too-smug-grin was fast to become a snicker when his friend aimed a kick on his shin, which he promptly dodged. “Hey! I didn’t even say anything!”

 “Your thoughts are loud. I will be right back.”

 His eyes were focused on the kid, who now was curled on his chair, chin resting on his knees as his arms firmly hugged his legs, making him look even smaller.

 Aizawa grunted, part of him feeling inclined to just drop an entire gallon of water on his head to successfully wash all his problems way, or maybe shake all the bad, lying thoughts taking over his mind and resulting in a few tears to escape what, on its turn, made a strong feeling of protectiveness, which was immediately ignored, shines on him. But Shouta knew he couldn’t act on any of those two options because it wasn’t “socially acceptable” – nor very useful, but he ignored that part, - and “problems” and “people” tended to be more complicated to help than that.

 The older sighed, kneeling on the spot before the front door where the sun passed through the window and made a perfect warm piece of floor for the big, - extremely big - messy pile of purple fluff lay and nap without a single worry in the world, not even stirring as the customers had to tiptoe around him to get in and out of the establishment.

 Shinsou hissed when Shouta first petted him, although was fast to purr louder than a machine as the human began to scratch behind his ears, going back to his peaceful sleep. He was the most calm, chill and snarky cat he has ever seen. His hobbies consisting on getting on the highest shelves to watch the entire place with a judging, tired glare and napping on people’s laps, especially when they were about to head out, which made his customers to order something else and stay for at least more fifteen minutes, not having the heart to interrupt the purple’s sleep.

 Needless to say, he and Aizawa got along just fine. Even with the animal’s habit of climbing him to nap on his shoulders and teaching the younger kittens to do the same thing, knowing very well the one with dark hair would never have the heart to put them away, the human knew he sustained a soft spot for him.

 Nemuri and Yamada liked to tease him, affirming that Shinsou was his cat form and Shouta would never admit he agreed with them.

 He also ignored the implications of that when he remembered Shinsou was one of the green haired bag of energy favorites.

 “I have a mission for you.” It was the only mumbled warning the cat had before being carefully scoped on the human’s arms, melting on the embrace, hissing, yawning and then proceeding to melt even further. Shouta huffed, amused.

 ‘Brat.’

 Another signal that the teenager was much more trapped in his mind than the normal was the fact he didn’t realize the adult coming closer, nearly jumping three feet in the air as Aizawa’s command hit him.

 “Sit correctly.”

 The teenager yelped, looking at him, at himself and then at him again, a strong shade of an ashamed red taking over his features. “O-o-of course, sir! I am sorry!” He bowed, putting his feet on the ground and straightening his back, a slight tremble on his movements making the adult frown.

 “Don’t think too much about this.” And before any protest could come out of the other’s mouth, Aizawa laid Shinsou on his legs, leading the boy to freeze completely, eyes locked on the cat, who just blinked lazily at him and started to knead his thighs, low, rumbling purrs escaping, demanding the new human as worthy.

 A barely suppressed squeal flew from the younger, who already seemed ready to cry again, although for different reasons.

 The cat café’s owner hid his amused smile by catching a kitten who approached with curiosity, petting him and proceeding to flop him on the soft, green curls. Ojiro meowed, purring and immediately attempting to eat his new environment.

 “I…” His wide, wobbly smile increased further as Shinsou butted his head on the teenager’s palm, his voice, a whisper, lapsing for a beat. “I love them.”

 There was no way for the adult to hide his snort at his words, but the Problem Child seemed unfazed with his reaction, turning to him with shiny eyes and smile.

 “Thank you so much, sir!”

 After a nod, Aizawa turned away and came back to his spot behind the counter. And if talking and taking orders when Hizashi uses part of his break to “discreetly” take a few pictures of a beaming boy smiling to the camera and pointing the cats on him to send to him later, is much more bearable than before? It has absolutely nothing to do with the young figure on the farthest table sporadically giggling as he plays with an Ojiro who is fiercely convinced he can win the battle against the red laser.

 […]

 “Excuse me, Yamada-san. I’m sorry, but my order was 476 yens and you only charged me 200.” Aizawa knew the boy was going to lose the fight the moment Hizashi only grinned and locked the cashier, completely ignoring the two pieces of paper on the other’s hand.

 “Don’t worry about it, little listener! Don’t worry! Take this as a thank you for letting Shinsou and Ojiro sleep on you for one hour, okay?”

 “B-but sir! It was no problem at all!” The way he moved to prove his point made Aizawa picture a small, energetic bunny. “I really like them and I was going to stay here longer anyway!”

 “Now, now, young boy.” Hizashi pointed a finger at him, trying and failing miserably to see or sound at least a tad chastising. “Refusing a ‘thank you’ is a serious offense, I wonder if I will need to give you a free blueberry muffin to go because of that…”

 “No!” Aizawa huffed, turning away from them and heading to the tables, taking the opportunity of how low the business was to clean and prepare them for the next customers, stopping right on his tracks, mid step as a wide, pleading glare found his. “Aizawa-san,” he shook the 276 yens at his direction, puppy eyes staring right on his soul, “please.”

 The dark-haired one scoffed, looking away from the powerful graze. “Don’t bring me into this. Fight your own battles, problem child.”

 Hizashi laughed at the pout he received in response, having pity on the loyal customer. “Okay, okay. I give. You can pay for this.” Aizawa glared at him, one eyebrow up in a non convinced expression. His friend winked, big grins as the younger turned to him, much more smiley. “With a hug.”

 Problem child seemed surprised, especially when the flamboyant employee jumped across the counter and stopped in front of him, arms open in an invitation. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” His voice was softer. “I can always accept 100 yens if you really want me to, little listener.”

 He didn’t understand the magic thing his friend always managed to do. The way he succeeded to dance around someone’s barriers, finding openings and walking through them, asking no permission to get closer yet always attentive when to stop and retreat or to talk about every or anything. The same magic he showed when they were teenagers.

 Tsuyu meowed and Aizawa kneeled down to give her attention for as long as the embrace lasted, pretending to not notice the two hugging behind him, the taller lightly swaying them while the younger relaxed, melting on the touch.

 A few seconds later the anxious bunny was bowing, thanking them and getting out with a gleam on his face, hugging happily the notebook next to his chest and petting Cloud before going away. Shouta came back to his spot, Yamada followed and the green hair disappeared on the corner.

 “We’re not adopting the Problem Child.”

 “But he already even has a nickname! Shoutaaa, it’s meant to be! And you’re already soft for him as well, don’t deny it.”

 He scoffed. “Shut up. You try to say no to those fucking puppy eyes next time.”

 “You fought well,” Hizashi patted his shoulder, his own gaze getting a dangerous, gleaming light. “Dadzawa.”

 The rarefied clients distributed across the café jumped when, between laughter and dramatics cries of pain, the blonde fell on the ground, a half pleased, half evil smile presenting itself on the shorter’s face in a flash before his impassive expression took over and he calmly continued with his usual chores, pointedly ignoring the ‘It was so worthy it’ snickered by his friend, still laid on the floor.

[hanawrites404]

One Dance

Game : The Arcana

Pairing : some slight hints of various pairings

Characters : Asra Alnazar, Nadia Satrinava, Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak, Muriel, Lucio Morgasson, Wynne Toprak, Lyra Slaquer, Sèbastien Slaquer, Raymond Slaquer (the Slaquers belong to @the-soupiest-artist) and Maura Hickey (who belongs to @puzzle-piece-angel)

Warnings : None

Timeline : Modern-Dance AU

This story is based of this song :

And this story is an introduction to the Vesuvia Dance Company and its members, so come along and let's see what does it have in store ✨✨

3rd person POV

"Tch. Boring......."

The wind whooshed against her as she tucks her flowing strands of hair behind her ear. She was leaning against the railings of her balcony, her hands resting on the cold metal as she examined her painted black nails.

To her, black was always the perfect colour. And she nearly never altered it to any other shade. It would be too tedious again.

The woman crossed her legs as she drank her Limoncello from the rim of her glass, the bubbles of the alcohol fizzed inside. Her throat bobbed with every sip and jingled the translucent crystal attached to her dark choker. The liquor quenched her dry throat, pricking it with its gas bubbles and bitter taste as she sighed the cold air.

The sparkling alcohol matched with her eyes as they stared upon the heads of the people walking past her apartment from the balcony. The cars driving away looked like playthings to her, and the trees swaying against the soft gust seemed like shrubs. Nothing was of interest to her outside as she continued to drink her beverage and blink away the yawn from her eyes.

She thought of going to bed again since she had nothing to do either inside or outside, but then a simple phone call from her friend changed all her plans.

"What is it Asra?" She answered, not a good afternoon, not even a hi. She wasn't in a mood for this.

"Heya Wynne! How are you doing first of all??" The person from the other side of the phone didn't seem unfazed by her disinterest because of his experienced friendship with the woman. She sighed and replied, admiring her nails again. "Nothing much, just passing my precious time as always" she chuckled at the last phrase. "What about you? What's the occasion for calling me?"

"Well, I missed you dearly-"

Wynne instinctively made an expression which spoke out 'Oh really?'

"And I have something to propose to you"

The girl blinked from curiosity and pulled away from the railings, walking inside her penthouse, still holding the glass of Limoncello and her phone near her ear as she told him to continue.

"So! You and I both know how much you love to dance right? You have also given performances at your workplace and you just love to lose yourself to the club music. You are a very awesome dancer, Wynne. And you don't mind showcasing your moves to everyone"

"Yeah, so what?" Wynne rubbed her temples, Asra was sure taking his sweet time and her forbearance.

"Well, I have sort of an offer for you. Why don't you meet me at the address I'm gonna text you and I'll spill everything when you arrive"

"Wait what?!" Wynne places her hand on her coffee table, her voice of disbelief and bafflement. "You got to be fucking kidding me Asra. Please tell me what is it and don't you dare cut off like this"

"Sorry Wynne, but I am busy. I promise I'll tell you everything there. Goodbye!"

"Asra! ASRA!!!" but she was too late.

"UGH, fucking bitch....." Wynne snarled as she clutched her phone tight in her palm. The device then vibrated in her hand and she rolled her eyes, opening her phone to find that Asra had sent her the destination in their chat. It was an address that was unfamiliar to Wynne, and thanks to the wonder which had already accumulated in her mind, she growled, and finally decided to reach the place.

Wynne swallowed the last sip of her drink and looked down at her clothes. Assuming that Asra was calling her to a public place, she decided to change from her casuals to a sleeved black crop top and matching palazzos and chunky heels. She combs her blue hair and applies her dark lipstick before grabbing the keys of her old red Cadillac, and she descended the stairs after locking her house.

"Asra, this better not be a prank or I will slap you to grave" she murmured grimly as she started the engine of her car and drove to the address. With a bit of traffic and breakers in between, it took her somewhat half an hour to reach an unknown college building. Now, why would Asra call her here? Was it perhaps for a college reunion? Then why was he talking about dancing? She had so many questions, and Asra owes all the answers to her after leaving her hanging on the phone like that.

"Winnie!! Over here!!" The woman turned her head to the call to find her best friend trotting while waving towards her. It didn't take her long to notice the tie-dyed rainbow shirt and glitter pants with sparkle sketchers, as Wynne just nodded and waited for Asra to finally stop by her car so she could give an earful to him for leaving her edged at the cliff. But calming her urge to denounce him, she patiently asked.

"Alright, I'm here. Now what? Why did you call me near a college?"

"A college?" Asra snorted and burst into a laugh. This made Wynne even more confused and annoyed as she snarled silently and eyed him, unamused. By phoning her at an unknown place when she was in a particularly bad mood only to laugh at her, she had set up her mind to drive away right in front of him and crush him with her car. But then, he luckily spoke on time before she could act her frivolous murder.

"Boo, this is not a college. It may look like one, but it's not. Trust me" Asra winked at her. Wynne, still being unamused, leaned her forehead against her fingers as she replied lethargically.

"Well, what is it then? Care to explain after calling me here without any proper explanation?" She already wanted to leave honestly. And can't she just sleep?

"Of course. If you would follow me, Milady" Asra being the gentleman offered his hand out to her though he was aware of Wynne's already increasing irritation. He stayed patient because he didn't want to reveal the surprise yet to her. The vexed girl grunted again and got off her car, placing her fair hand over his tanned one. Asra gently squeezed her hand in his with a warm smile on his face. That seemed to lower her irritation as she squeezed his hand back. Asra with a small blush spreading across his golden cheeks led her near to the campus, and Wynne followed him gradually.

Soon both of them were near the polished mahogany doors after passing the lobby inside. And before he could enter, Asra checked on his friend with another appreciative smile. Wynne raised her eyebrow. To her, Asra looked very gladder than usual. Though he was known to be a happy guy, he looked....... exceptionally optimistic today. Was today someone's birthday? Was today her birthday? She had no idea what the hell was going on and what the hell was wrong with Asra.

"What's the matter?" She asked. She sounded calm, but inside she was bubbling with novelty that what exactly he had in mind.

"This is not a college, Wynne" Asra repeated what he said before.

"Yeah, so what? Please don't pull another suspense now" the woman placed her hand on her lip. She loved the suspense, but too much of it makes her feel lazy.

Heh, as if she wasn't feeling lethargic already.

Asra chortled and patted her head, and he finally pushed open the huge doors to uncover something imperial, stupendous and incredible enough to leave Wynne's mouth gaping and her eyes caught mesmerized.

Inside the so-assumed as college, was a tremendous majestic dance theatre of what looked like belonging to a prosperous french period. It glittered with gold and red, as a satin rose sprinkled with dewdrops glimmering of sunshine. The walls were delicately painted with a royal maroon gloss and regal purple imprints of what left an impression of lavender flower. Even the hall gave off the scent of apricot and apple orchards. The hefty velvet curtains hemmed the rectangle stage elegantly, the spotlights modern, and the footing was simply immaculate.

"Asra......This is-"

"Alluring? Captivating? Hypnotising??? Is there any other English word I am missing??"

"Well, I would say that yeah. But...this place is like a fantasy!!" Wynne exclaimed as she idolised the beautifully festooned and pleasingly symmetrical ceiling. "I know right? Told you so. I'm glad you liked it. It's one of my favourite places to stay at" Asra joined her as she entered in, the click of her heels grating into the carpets of the theatre.

"Yeah......it's like this has come straight from the golden era of art. Like in one of my school history books! I...I never would have guessed that it would even more wonderful in real life. I thought it was more of a vision of romantic people which were just left as dreams" Wynne skimmed the sides as she examined the details closely, thinking internally about how much work must have gone into creating such a painting over such a vast canvas.

"Well, this theatre runs on donations and funds, but it's sure undeniable that this dance studio is glorious and alluring" Asra shrugged.

"Yes...it is........ Wait" Wynne stopped in mid-sentence and turned to him, her hand still on the wall. "Did you say, dance studio?". Before Asra could open his mouth to reply to her, another unfamiliar voice echoed from a corner. It sounded soothing, pleasant and graceful, but Wynne could not recognise who it was. However, the source was soon revealed as she walked towards both of them, and both of their eyes got fixated on her.

"Oh! A guest! Is she the person you were talking about, Asra?" The fair lady enquired, and Asra nodded in agreement. "Yup! She is the one. The 'blueberry syrup' " Asra winked at the unknown lady.

Wynne was now really questioning her existence....... blueberry syrup..........

Seriously?

"Oh! Now I see why you called her that" the soft ravenette chuckled, even her laugh chimed blissful which can send anyone to ease. Asra giggled and agreed to her, his dimple delicately forming on his cheek like a tiny crescent moon.

"Anyways, here she is. Wynne" Asra introduced the bluenette to the foreign lady, who smiled sweetly at her and Wynne waved for a greeting.

"And Wynne, this is Lyra" Asra finally disclosed the name of the gentle lady, who then stepped closer to Wynne and reached her hand out for her to shake, which the other lady gladly took after staring at her pale hand. And as she had guessed, her hand was soft like feathers.

"Lyra Slaquer, but you can call me Lyra. It's a delight to meet you, Wynne. I hope you enjoy your stay over here" she spoke with another cute smile. Wynne nodded and took her hand back, breaking a small grin herself. The name 'Slaquer' whistled a bit familiar to her, but she had never met Lyra before so it was kind of odd, but she pushed the thought and quickly replied to her.

"I too wish to enjoy my visit over here. This place is still kind of anonymous to me since Asra did technically blackmailed me to arrive here" the woman stared at the white curlyhead with narrowed eyes.

"What?!" Lyra gasped as her hand partially covered her mouth. "He did?! I'm so sorry for that, Wynne! He usually does not do that though" she grabbed her chin in her two fingers.

"Wait, I never blackmailed you" Asra's purple eyes widened in scepticism.

"You provoked me. You fed my curiosity and you left me fucking dumbfounded by your sudden hanger, you agitated me so much that the urge you aroused in me won. And whose fault do you think it is??" Wynne crossed her arms and stared at him, with her weight on one leg.

Asra's cheeks lit up with bright pink by the lady's question. It was not a surprise that Wynne caught his fib about being busy just to bring her here. He had known her ever since they were kids, and Winnie was the most attentive one out of the two. A smirk engraved on her dark lips as she tapped her foot on the floor, waiting for a comeback, though she was already aware that he doesn't have an answer. He was caught, he was very badly caught. And he sadly had nothing to objectify with.

Lyra meanwhile just looked from Asra to Wynne, then back to Asra. She was waiting for one of them to speak, but someone calling her name, presumably from backstage, snapped her out. "Coming!" The twirly ravenette replied, and she rushed to attend to her call. But soon after she stopped at her heels for a moment, and turned back to gently grab Wynne's hand and then finally walking with her.

"Come on Wynne! Let's make you meet everyone. I'm sure they will love you" Lyra notified her and she continued dragging her. The blue-eyed lady sounded so favourable and eager that Wynne couldn't muster the will to pull away and refuse her. She was better than deterring the warmth of a civil lady like her, and Wynne peeked back at Asra, who just waved at her, mugging 'have fun' to her.

'I will kill you.....' she gestured back at him with a scowl and flipped him off until Lyra and she completely disappeared behind the stage. And good thing she didn't notice Wynne being blatantly horrible and rude.

Not that Asra minded her cynicism anyway, he still loved her for how she was.

"Guys, listen up! We have a visitor here. She is Asra's dearest friend!" Lyra with a sunny smile as twinkling as the moon inaugurated her to everyone present backstage.

But little did Lyra know that Wynne already knew four motherfuckers present inside.

"What the heck? How are you all at one place?? And most importantly, what are you guys doing here???" Wynne pointed her finger from puzzlement at all of them and questioned the troop she knew very well through conventions and clashes she would never forget. Some of them which she found awful, and some of them surprisingly candy. She honestly never wanted to meet any of them at all, but profoundly in her heart, she was obliged that she was oriented with the six awesome and decent idiots.

"WYNNE?!!" A particular red-haired fellow, a ginger girl, a raven head man and a purplenette lady, together cried out the lady's name. The four were in a greater shock than she was in. Because neither Asra told them who the guest was, nor did they expect her to be the visitor out of any other persons they could have guessed. Now that's quite a shocker eh?

"Oh~ you know them???" Lyra bent towards her, her blue eyes shone with inquisition. "Yes...Yes, I do" Wynne sauntered towards them, this time, with a wooden floor, her heels gave off the clicking like of a ticking timepiece. Her hands were crossed, and she was tickled that how all the pals she was intimate to were existing in the area.

"Since when?" Lyra strolled with her. "Long story, Dear. It's all thanks to Asra, you can say. He is the cause why I know all of them. Like I met Nadia during one of his get-together parties, and then I met these two siblings- what was their name again? AH! Julian and Portia, at a grocery store when I and Asra wanted some stuff. And like that, I met his other best friend, the giant guy over there, Muriel"

Wynne brought up each one of them as she enunciated about them to Lyra. The ravenette listened to the bluenette with peak attention. She adored the manner and the refinement she held up while chatting to her. It was ethical, posh and highly lordly, just as a splendid black swan.

"And that's the story in a nutshell. Now tell me" Wynne kept her hands on her hips and glared at the four. "What's going on here?". "Wait, Asra didn't tell you what exactly is this place and what is our purpose here??" The physician asked her with mistrust.

"Well, no. He told me nothing. But he did say that this is a dance studio" Wynne tapped her chin, trying to recall what else he had asserted.

"Well yes, you are correct on that. This is a dance studio. Which includes the theatre along with the backstage, the rehearsal rooms, a canteen area with the lobby, a recreational cabin and the dorms. Our dancers live here and we provide them with a comfortable and hygienic place to stay along with necessary hospitality, and they all perform for the company" Nadia replied.

"Wait, the company? You guys are running a corporation together?" Wynne cocked her eyebrow again. This all was very new to her, and pretty intriguing too.

"You can say like that. This is Vesuvia Dance Company, and I'm proud to say that we all are like a close-knit family here. I run the company and also work as the organiser. Portia is the set painter. All the lavender imprints you saw on the screens were done by her" the umber woman referred to the chubby girl as she waved heartily at Wynne.

Judging by Portia's denim suspenders splattered with numerous sorts of pigments, she did look like a very hard worker. Just like how Wynne always knew her to be.

"And that gentleman over there, Muriel, he does the building work. So the stage and every scenery of the bureau is retained by him. During performances, he also makes sure the lights and every other piece of equipment are operating appropriately. Portia occasionally teams up with him for the arrangement of struts and special effects. Without him, the true magnificence of the dance would never have reached the audience" Nadi commended.

Muriel's cheeks blossomed pale red as his jade eyes shyly lowered down. Portia had the opposite reaction though. She just grinned and locked arms with the giant man catching him off guard and turning him more rattled than ever.

"I-It's not that much of a big deal" he mumbled abjectly. Wynne chuckled at the scene and muttered 'cute' before facing Nadia so she could introduce the medic next.

"And you must know Dr Devorak. Just as his profession speaks, he takes care of the condition of every member of the company and assures the safety of everyone from likely injuries or illnesses. He also schedules a diet plan if required, and he is also quite sincere in his work, and the members easily recover, all thanks to him"

"And....did any previous member die even though he was around?" Wynne heckled, and Julian fell right into her mockery as his face burnt deep red, the vivid colour spreading across his porcelain skin. He was positively ashamed, and Wynne snagged him so badly he was staggering. But luckily, Nadia seconded him up as she soughed.

"No Wynne. No one has died. The doctor is a qualified physician, and every one of us relies on his skills of treatment. He is also very humble, so there is nothing for us to be concerned about in terms of health" She retorted. "Alright. I believe you" Wynne shrugged with a sly smile, although the flush on Julian's cheeks didn't vanish. Wynne was like a harpy when it comes to disparaging someone, which sometimes makes Julian fear her. Other than that, Julian did like her, she can be cute sometimes and he has seen it. But just like every ambivert, all she requires is the right time to express it.

"And moving on, Asra is our principal dancer, so he is the one who comes with most of the choreography, but he also ensures to give opportunities to the other dancers to suggest any addition. With his and everyone's aptitude, the event comes out to be beautiful" Nadia affirmed with a low smile on her swift lips.

"I see....." Wynne held her chin in her fingers and nodded.

"And the thespians along with Asra are, Lyra, Maura, and-"

"Hello guys! What's up?"

"Woah Woah Woah!! Take it easy! We didn't go anywhere" Julian stumbled back onto a table as he attempted to brace away from the not-so sudden jumpscare of the stranger who appeared to have popped out in between out of nowhere. Well, a stranger to Wynne, to be precise.

"Haha, sorry Ilya. I was just excited to meet the new guest, and I didn't wanna miss them!" The outsider gleefully met the sights of the new lady with his azure ones, a purple glisten romped within his iris, just like how the gold flapped inside the matron's lustrous eyes. Other than his apertures, she noticed how he looked a bit similar to Lyra, contemplating the same type of hair and complexion of the skin. She then looked down at his clothes. The uproar he was wearing captured her eye, reasonably. Wynne was stringent, and a fashionista filled with critique, but what the man was having over him wasn't so terrible to her at all. She could see the striped black-white sweater, baby pink pants,

And were those turquoise crocs he was wearing???????

"Interesting...." Was all that Wynne could say.

"This is Raymond. He is our pianist, and he with his band performs along with the dancers. And he also conducts the music" Nadia enlisted. "Oh, so he is the soul of the performance huh. Pretty....... eccentric" Wynne eyed Raymond who glanced innocently back at her. She rasped and dabbed Raymond's shoulder as she reacted. "But sure. He is cute".

"Oh! If I'm cute then you are the loveliest girl in the whole world, and the ebony fabric on your fair body is like shadows surrounding the glowing moon" Raymond's eyes sparkled with esteem and cherish towards her, like a child recognizing their favourite superhero. That wasn't a good sign for Wynne at all. Especially deeming that it has only been minutes since he and she got introduced to each other. But, inferring that he was the type of guy to give random sweet compliments to anyone, she coolly answered.

"W-Why thank you Dear. You are.....pretty yourself. I like your hair".

"Thank you, Ms Wynne. You are too nice" he blushed with a wide beam. "Yeaaaaahhhhh" Wynne internally winced but tried not to show it to not come off as rude and anguish the cute boy.

"Alright! I think that's everyone in the area. There are three more people who are left to be introduced, but other than that, I hope everything is to your liking, Wynne. Asra brought you here so you could think about joining the company" Nadia rolled a strand of her long hair around her finger.

"Wait, join you all???" Wynne asked.

"Oh my gosh, you are gonna join us??? PLEASE DO!! I would love you for that!" Raymond practically jumped on his feet with enthusiasm.

"W-Wait, but why??? Why do I have to??" Wynne struggled to justify.

"Well, why not. We all have seen you perform before, Wynne. And you would make an exceptional dancer! Also, it's very fun hanging around with everyone and dancing too, don't you think?" Portia added.

"Yeah Wynne, Pasha is right. We know you don't like being around people so much, but we would give you space when you need it. We may stick close, but we will make sure to not bother you much" Ilya gently smiled at her. She did frighten him sometimes, but Julian would be happy to have a bit of her insolence and sarcasm hovering around. Everyone would love to have that.

"I agree with Julian. You are a wonderful lady, Wynne. It would be our absolute pleasure to have a talented entertainer as you dance with us. I promise I won't talk much if that annoys you. But I want to get to know you better, Wynne. I bet you would be very fun!" Lyra playfully whacked her shoulder, only to receive a deathly grimace from the bluenette's wolf-like eyes.

"O...Oh...." Lyra cautiously procured her hand and backed a bit away from her. She wasn't dreading of her if anything. She just got more.....intimidated. She had never met a woman with such grimness flooding out of her, yet be so nimble as a twilight waft along with the gloom she hauls. Lyra felt like a little butterfly just witnessing a vicious spider open her gapes and watch it flash with yearning and malevolence, but close enough, she could see the dignity and that dwelled deep in those gazes.

And those golden orbs had apprehended her just like a tempting spider's quagmire.

Wynne was never known to miss her target anyway.

"S-Sorry....." Lyra's diamond orifices veered under and a weak rosiness escorting her cheeks.

Wynne just shut her eyes, sighed softly, and immediately gawked at Muriel who was typically tight-lipped the whole time. But she decided to inquire him too because his opinion also mattered after all. "What do you think, Big Guy? Would you be happy to have me over?" She straightforwardly asked. The huge man was taken aback for a bit, he had believed that Wynne won't bring any mind to him, and obviously, she proved him wrong. And now he had to respond to her because everyone else had their eyes on him too.

"I......." He started.

"Mhm?" Wynne waited.

"....................."

"I won't mind" that's all he said.

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of solace and rejoiced while Muriel just reddened and pouted. He wondered what made the people so relieved when all he did was say 'yes' for the new girl to stay. But what it truly meant was that they were ahead in favour by one more vote.

Wynne snorted. "Yeah yeah, celebrate all you want, but still. I haven't agreed to this yet. So technically there is still be left to decide. Now don't get too much excited already" she stated.

"You are certainly right on that. But we are willing to wait for your final decision, Wynne. Whether positive or not" Nadia told her, and the others agreed to her, nodding and muttering to each other. "Good. I don't like rushing things. I'm glad that you understand" Wynne's lips curved into a slight smile, and everyone else in the room returned a grin. "Of course. We want you to be comfortable after all. You are our friend" Julian added. "And we promise to support ya!" Portia said. "You can speak to us if you ever have any trouble, Wynne" Lyra peered at her. "And we promise to not irritate you at all!" Raymond assured her with a bright grin on his lips.

"We......We would take care of you too....." Muriel softly smiled.

Wynne softly chuckled, shaking her head delightfully and placing her hands on Raymond and Lyra's shoulders. She gleamed at both of them, and she thanked all of them for the patience and hospitality they all gave to a newbie like her. She truly felt honoured and warmly greeted by all of them, and she felt much pleasanter than she was feeling appearing for the first time. Nadia was pleased to see how everyone welcomed Wynne. She was looking forward to the guest making herself comfortable among the partners and come to be a valued part of the small artsy gang and relish the beauty of dance and music together with everyone.

And am I missing someone important to introduce?

"So! What did I miss, lovely ladies and gentlemen?" Some other unidentified person barged in like a typical theatrical garish zealot. Just as assumed by his way of the fashionably late entry, his clothes were incredibly contemporary and vogue and his shirt were half-buttoned to expose his semi-hairy chest. The unknown man rested his elbow at the frame as his piercing emerald eyes stridden around on everyone's faces until it spotted its victim. A certain gal in black.

"Ah! Gotcha" the stranger grinned and grazed his teeth over his lower lip. He pushed himself back on his feet and walked towards his prey. His hand brushed through his curly dark locks, the hooves of his shoes made a satisfying click with every step he got closer to Wynne. He wasn't focused on anyone else other than her, his eyes glimmered under the daylight, like lush green leaves after monsoon showers.

Wynne perked up her eyebrow up. Who is this guy now, she pondered. She glanced at his shirt for a moment and noticed patterns of peacock feathers with splats of prominent blue and white matching the print. Very remarkable, she thought. But also somehow very familiar too. The design on his cloth was something she had seen somewhere before, but she couldn't recollect when exactly.

Nevertheless, the unfamiliar man wearing the familiar clothing gently took hold of her hand and locked his emeralds with her gold.

"And you might be......" She started.

"Sèbastien Slaquer at your service, mademoiselle" he fervently kissed her knuckles, nurturing the sweetness of her skin on his lips.

"Ah...Slaquer......french....Wait a minute" Wynne interrupted.

"Yeah, what's the matter? Remembered something important?" He tilted his head and looked at her, his eyes taking in the charm of her marvellous face and dusk merging with her rosy skin.

"Slaquer.....no wonder why it was sounding so weird to me.......I think I have heard this name before.....in a brand name" Wynne held her chin.

"Oh, you have? I don't know. My brand sure is well-known--"

"Wait, did you say, your brand???" Wynne gripped him. "Yes of course" he shrugged. "Hmmm.....that explains your shirt..... the peacock designs..... peacock designs???"

Wynne suddenly gasped. "You are french, aren't you?!"

"Oh, are you giving me a racist remark now?" Sèbastien knocked and chuckled at his joke. "But yes, you are right. I'm french. And so is my little brother and my cousin behind you" he gestured to both Raymond and Lyra who were currently casually conversing with each other. "Ohh those are your siblings? Alright," Wynne nodded. She wasn't surprised because the three of them did kind of resemble each other. The opaque curly hair, ivory skin, thrilling eyes.

And speaking of Raymond and Lyra, Wynne noticed how personal they were. Both were standing near one another, and Raymond never halted eye contact with Lyra, and Lyra also had her entire attention on him. They didn't seem to mind anything happening around them. They just talked, but every word they said to each other pertained only to them. They were just cousins, but Wynne was mildly amazed how they behaved like mutual siblings who loved each other to the brim.

It thawed her heart, but also made it ache as soon as she realised she doesn't have such a person whom she can call a sibling. Her mother was never there to give her a sibling.

Wynne was always alone at such times.

"Anyways, what do you call a peacock in French by the way? Maybe that would remind me" Wynne turned to the tall man. It disturbed her how he towered over her. She was fundamentally disturbed by how ALL of them towered over her.

Heh, looks like someone has taken Portia's place of being the smallest.

"Oh, Paon" he answered within a second.

"AHH! I got it! That's your fashion brand, ain't it so?" She banged her fist on her palm as soon as she ultimately understood the name she was trying to remember all the time. "Well yes, you are correct again. Wait, you mean you know my work??" He gazed at her. "Mhm. I have seen it. Peacock layouts are your trademark, along with the colours, royal blue and brine green. Your type is modern, but also have a slight tinge of French flavour, dating back to the eighteenth or nineteenth-century or so. I have even seen the blogs that talk about you, very impressive I must say" she complimented him.

"O-Oh...Why thank you for your tributes, mademoiselle. You are pretty vigilant and almost figured out my whole style. Not many people can, you know" he laughed. "Of course, no problem Mr Slaquer" Wynne giggled. She found Sèbastien relatively interesting already, even after knowing him only for instants. Not only she liked his judgment of fashion, but also how he and she shared the same passion for design.

"Oh please, call me Sèbastien. It's my upmost pleasure to meet you, Miss......."

"Wynne. Wynne Toprak" she said.

"Toprak?? You mean, Priddell Toprak??" Sèbastien asked her. "Yup. I don't use my middle name too often, actually" she mentioned. "Ohhh I am have heard about you a lot, Ms Toprak. I have witnessed your works too, but I just wasn't lucky enough to see your beautiful face until now. Lucifer's Wings, that's yours right?" He questioned.

Wynne's cheeks turned a slight pink. She always thought that she can improve her style more and more, so she never found her methods perfect. And someone just breaking it to her that they admired her works and call her beautiful on top of that turns her shy and flustered.

"I-I...Thank you. And yes, that's my brand. I started it when I was like, 15 years old or so" she replied. "Woah, now that's a young talent I see. Very terrific, Ms Toprak. And I love how you make black match every other colour of your clothing. Your mode is very diverse and comfortable for anyone. Now that's how I want fashion to be. It should be dispersible to everyone, without any discrimination. And also with being unique, but also not too bizarre, if you know what I mean" Sèbastien's eyes shot to Raymond for a second.

Wynne bobbed her head. "I agree with you. Clothes which are different but also not too much of it. We don't want to walk around looking like piñatas now, do we?" She shrugged. Sèbastien broke into a fit of laughs and he shook his head. His laugh sounded like harmony to her, she chuckling with him too.

"Also, I am guessing you work with Nadia in designing the dresses for the dancers?" she continued. "Yup. Right. I have a contract with her for that. And Raymond has one too for his band to perform in the theatre" Sèbastien rubbed his neck. "Ahh...I see......Well, my friend had invited me here to take a look, and decide whether I should join the company with all of you or not" she noted.

"Oh! So you are going to design with me too?? Like a collaboration??" He sounded pretty energetic about it. "Well, maybe. But I also am a dancer. So let's see what happens" Wynne shrugged again.

"Woah...what a gifted lady. I'll be looking forward to work with you, mademoiselle" he softly kissed her hand again. "Oh it's nothing much. Trust me, Dear. But sure, I'm anticipating too" she sadly smiled at him. She still wasn't sure if she should join or not. But seeing so many likeable people who welcomed her so sweetly, made it hard for her to refuse. But also, what worse can happen if she joins? She loved dancing, and maybe along with fashion, she can make her career in another field too.

But still, she needed a bit more time. Though her mind was already telling her to agree to the contract and sign in. But she still needed to wait. Not just yet, please.

"Ohh!! What a lovely lady in the house!" Wynne heard another adorable voice from the entrance. She glanced at the new blonde woman, her long hair as golden as daffodils and her eyes as green as polished malachite. She also noticed the dress she was wearing. A long red skirt and a white buttoned top. It was simple but pretty, along the black ghillies with distinguishing neat white socks.

"Oh hello there. Nice to meet you" Wynne turned her attention to the blonde dame, whose cheeks lightened to blush as she bashfully smiled at Wynne.

"Nice to meet you too! I'm Maura. You must be Wynne, right? Asra told me about you" she replied. "Yeah, that's me. In flesh" she snorted.

"Ah, Wynne. Maura is the one who planted all the flowers and plants in the garden. And she always knows what type of flower would suit anyone. Also, not only she is the gardener, but she is also a prudent performer of Irish stepdance. It looks very difficult to me, to be honest. But Maura always does it so effortlessly" Sèbastien added on. Maura blushed harder and timidly thanked the man for the compliment, who just patted her head with a playful wink in return.

"Oh! Now that's very sweet of you. I absolutely loved the sunflowers in the garden by the way. They are my favourite. Every other flower in the garden were beautiful too" Wynne smiled at her. "Of course! I'm glad you liked them. I love sunflowers too. They sure a happy radiant flowers, don't you think?" She glinted at Wynne. "Definitely. I love them because they remind me of my mother, that's why" Wynne sadly smiled, the fond portraits of her precious mother as her hair and eyes lustrous as the cloudless floral elegance of nature flooding into her psyche. She dearly missed her, too bad she was no more.

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'll make sure to make a bouquet of sunflowers for you once they fully blossom. You can even gift them to your mom. And tell her I said hi" Maura twinkled. Wynne was seized aback by her abrupt tenderness. People were being too much nice to her today that it seemed so alien to her. But appreciating her generosity, Wynne warmly smiled.

"Thank you, Maura. She would like it" she still couldn't believe that such kind people still exist.

"My pleasure, Wynne. This is the least I can do" she smiled back.

"Also, Irish dance, now that's very interesting. You gotta show me some moves and teach me one day" the bluenette placed her hand on her hip. "Ohh for sure! I would love to. What dance do you do? Or do you specialise in some other thing than dancing" Maura leaned her head.

"Ah! I'm usually into hip hop and ballet. I learnt a bit about belly dancing too, it's also called Raqs Sharqi in Arabic. And other than dancing, I also run my fashion brand, and that's my real profession. It's called 'Lucifer's Wings'. I still remember how I took days to come for a decent name" she facepalmed and chucked at her forenamed naivety.

"That's a very nice name! You gotta show me your works someday then. I bet they will be very very beautiful and elegant, just like you!". "O-Oh....thank you for the.....compliment, Dear. And of course, I'll show you my latest designs, if that will satisfy you" Wynne brushed back her bangs. "I am sincerely honoured, Wynne" Maura grinned at her, her hands behind her back and her cheeks pink.

"No pressure. Your welcome" she raised her shoulders. Alright, she had to admit. She had started to like Maura too. Who wouldn't? And it was funny how she presently was liking the Slaquers and Maura more than the six she already was aware of. Maybe it's the benefit of the joy of meeting new people. Maybe........

"Also, I have a small question, would you mind me asking?" Wynne blinked. "Not at all, sweetie. Ask away" the blonde replied.

"Asra said this place runs through funds" Wynne blinked again.

"But who exactly is funding you all?"

Maura wasn't the one to answer her question. And neither was Sèbastien. Or Raymond. Or Lyra. Or any of the five.

It was the one out of the six who was known to be snooty, and robust, and blond.

And a passionate pup person too.

In came the notorious devil with two of his faithful albino pair of hounds growling at everyone in the room. His garnet coat with gold trimmings and the spotless Tom Ford Customs, obviously costing so much it would make our pockets spontaneously explode, were dry cleaned and smoothed very strictly, and his hair was huddled back with shower gel, replacing the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air with a tincture of mint.

"How are you all losers? You missed me?" The man removed his Gucci glasses and straightened his silky black gloves on his hands as he looked down at everyone.

"Tch, not him again" Wynne heard Sèbastien scoff and cross his arms. He looked irritated, and so did Maura, but she didn't have any frown on her face like him. She just looked..... unsettled. Meanwhile, others in the room were feeling as uncomfortable as both of them too. Muriel was looking away, Portia began to mind her business, Julian hid behind his papers, Lyra and Raymond tried to ignore the man and Nadia just sighed tiredly and rubbed her temples to give some comfort from the headache she just got. Possibly because of the new blond who entered.

"Hello Lucio" Nadia was the one who bothered to greet him, and she didn't look like she had a choice.

"Hello, Noddy! So how are my wife and her useless crew doing?" He cocked.

"Ex-wife, for your information. And they all are doing better than you, anyway" she scowled.

"Ah, still defending them huh? You do know this won't stop me" he smirked and kept his hand on his hip. Nadia closed her eyes, breathing calmly. "I don't care if you stop or not, but you are wrong. You always will be. My crew will always be committed and hard-working. And they all mean a lot to me no matter what bad you say about them"

Nadia's words effectively dissolved the tension in the room. Wynne just kept up at her place, listening to everything. She wasn't stunned to find him here. If her five friends would be here, then so would he.

The surprising fact was that she preferred the blondie over everyone else due to their previous relations and memories. It may sound unbelievable, but Wynne knew Lucio more than anyone, and it probably was the same with Lucio too, that he knew Wynne more than he knew anyone else. She was just a kid she met the guy when he was younger than today. And it has been two decades since, yet they kept in touch and their love never deteriorated.

Maybe.....maybe Wynne did have someone to call a sibling.

"So good to see you here, Lulu" she sounded pleasantly happy. That adds to another reason for joining the company.

"Wait- WYNNE?!!" The man was startled, finding his close friend at a place he least expected to. His lips widened to a grin and he forgot about everything, only to dash to the lady and tackle her in the biggest hug he can ever lend. Wynne laughed, and simply held his back, embracing his nostalgic warmth and scent close to herself, remembering every time they spent together merrily.

Sèbastien was dumbfounded, his mouth agape. Maura too was a bit astonished, that a sophisticated lady like her would be friends with such a flamboyant and hyperactive person. Well, she didn't judge it. Opposites do attract, you know. Maybe that was the case here. Maybe......

"What...What are you doing here??? I didn't know you were coming for a visit. Noddy never tells me anything" Lucio implored, fretting at the last sentence. "Well, it was more like a surprise visit. Nadia didn't know, so don't blame her" she replied. "Arrgh, fine. If you are saying it, then I'll gladly listen" he winked at her."Good" she cracked a tiny smile, snickering in the middle, and he joined her with the laughs.

"Now now, do you work here too??" She asked as she stopped.

"Work?! No!! I don't work with these idiots. THEY, work for me" his chest surged like a roasted turkey's bust.

"Oh yeah???" She raised her eyebrow, her eyes darting to Sèbastien. He shook his head, denying Lucio's statement. He then crossed his arms, and behind Lucio's back started mocking him by making his hand talk like Lucio and mouthed the gibberish with his eyes rolled up.

Wynne almost got caught by wheezing and cackling like a witch. Luckily her convenient hand covered it up.

"--And that's how I brought them all here. I am their saviour, Wynne. I raised them from the streets and gave them homes and look how they repay me. Not even a decent formal greeting!!" He bragged. Wynne already knew that the 'saving' part was not true no matter how fondly she thought of him, but she still played along to not dishearten her best friend.

"I understand, Monty. They are pretty tired too, you know. You can excuse them for that" she augmented, perfectly roleplaying.

"Excuuuuuse me?!! I work for hours at the meeting of the cooperations and look at me!! Not even a sweat on my brow. Oh, come on!! Are you all that lazy??? You are such losers for god's sake UGHH" Lucio hysterically placed his hand on his hip and cited them all. None of them were diverted, just as predicted. But Lucio was just pouting as always, and Wynne was feeling hotter and also sheepish. Were the two things even proportional?? She imagined so.

"U-Uhhh" she slowly walked to him and carefully placed her hand on his shoulder. She clasped her fingers around his joint and sighed peacefully.

"Hey...Lulu. I know you are worried about them and thinking that they are not....... trying harder, but they all deserve a break, you know. They all are like you after all. You all are humans, you need rest. You need fresh air"

She stopped and breathed a bit.

"And you know what you and your mates want??" She asked him, with a small beam of mischief on her lips.

"Huh??? What do I need??" He raised her eyebrow at her. She then grinned and booped his nose.

"You need ice cream, Silly! Ice cream! Who doesn't want a sweet cold treat on such a hot day hmm?? Come on all!! Let's have ice cream outside! I'm sure Asra can cover us up on that, free of charge" the bluenette invited everyone over, melting the potent tension just like ice cream under the giant ball of burning gas, leaving sweetness and chill dripping all over.

Everyone agreed to Wynne and relaxed from Lucio's outburst. They were finally keen to take a break they deserve and make their way through the other side at the exit. Lucio and his pets already ran to where they would most probably find the ice cream guy of the house, while everyone else silently thanked the blue lady for preventing Lucio to turn things worse. Some shook her hand, some gave her a quick hug and a bright smile, while some gave her thankful glances. She welcomed all of them with a simple nod, happy to help of course.

"You did great, Wynne. Thanks for shutting that asshole up" Sèbastien patted her head before moving out, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling away a loud ballad. Maura followed Sèbastien, but she stopped to gently shake Wynne's hand and give her one of her confectionary smiles, also thanking her for saving her from the virago.

"It was nice to meet you again, see you soon" and she went away, her skirt fluttering with the inside wind, as the bluenette saw her walking.

"Hey...that was considerate of you, stopping Lucio from flaring on all of us. I never liked him screaming at anyone, but thanks to you, now I can finally breathe fresh air" Lyra humoured and Wynne chuckled with her. "No problem, Lyra. Lucio and I have been together since my childhood. He had been like this since his college days. So it's not shocking that he is still like this. I honestly love it" she laughed.

"That's great, even for him. I'm happy that you have someone close to you" she gladly smiled. "Yeah, I am happy too. You also have awesome siblings, take care of them just like they take care of you, okay?" Wynne leaned on her weight. "Ah! Of course! Ray Ray is my closest confidant. We are just cousins, but I treat him as my brother. Sebby is also very sweet to me, but he is one thirsty man for gossip and he often turns......scandalous" Lyra whispered the last thing to her.

"But I'm really glad they are here for me, and I'll be there for them too! I'll protect them at all costs!!" Lyra puffed her cheeks with resolution and adherence. Her adorable reaction made the goth lady guffaw from amuse. She held her stomach, one of her hands fanning her face and gashes of laughter accumulated at the nook of her eyes.

Watching her laugh was like watching a thunderous hurricane reflecting a widespread rainbow, or like a broken glass casting an bewitching silhouette.

"You are such a sweetheart. Keep it up like that" Wynne patted her shoulder out of appreciation. Lyra shied a little, she found the other lady's laugh so mellifluous as a psalm's ensemble. She creased a ringlet behind her ear and ogled fondly at the shorter woman.

"I am trying my best, Wynne" she timidly replied to her. "I know, Dear. I know" she closed her eyes and exhaled. She unfolded them again, only to glimpse back into her sapphire watches. Lyra was so captivated by her that her heart skipped a beat when she observed the golden blaze and crystal frost inside her. It was enthralling.

"Also, may I ask for a favour?" Wynne gently held Lyra's chin and poked it up her lips. She didn't even realise that her mouth was open in awe that she blinked rapidly, and stammered a bit, her face flickering to an apple glow. Soon she regained her composure and answered back to her, not making her wait for long.

"Yeah?? What's the matter?"

Wynne stayed silent for a bit.

"......................."

".............................."

".................."

"......................................................"

"Can you show me the contract papers? I gotta sign up"

The clock strikes at 11, and so does the cap of Wynne's pen. Finally, she wrote her name on the paper and learned to become one of their family. She was having fun and was impatient for her first performance.

Well.....maybe Asra did the right thing annoying her huh. Bless him for that, and everyone else of the Vesuvian Dance Company.

Now let the extravaganza begin!

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 26: The Deathday Party

Frank lay there for several moments before the screeching noise finally roused him from the stone cold floor. Shivering with every twitch of hands, he pushed himself into a sitting position and lethargically looked around to see who was being tortured. They turned out to be musical saws, and Frank counted his blessings when he banged his head on something and uttered a curse on the far side of the room, rather than being in the younger Black's condition of landing right next to these still going while no one was playing. Considering this only mild compensation for the way he'd acted in the last room, Frank rolled himself out from under the table just for the movement, as he was sure he was already turning blue from the cold, but stopped in surprise when he saw the papers he'd been holding from Lockhart's office had come along.

Eager and always willing to go find her, he hurried over to Alice's side, who was huddled up next to the door with a very put out expression in place. "Normally I love the cold," she happily told him. "'S my favorite time of year, with the beautiful snow and warm mugs, but I think I can pass on whatever this place is."

"A Deathday Party," Potter informed them, having not landed too far away, rubbing his hands together for warmth as well but looking quite pleased with himself as he quickly snatched up the book. "This is brilliant, can't believe Harry's going to one of these!"

"Must be Nick's, he usually makes a thing out of his," the more tolerable Black for now agreed as he came wondering over, hardly looking as if the cold was bothering him at all.

Potter was already flipping through pages to find his place as the two went near their other friends, while Frank eagerly turned to Alice and explained what he found.

"It's a good thing you weren't made Prefect," she couldn't help but laugh when he was done. "Going through a teacher's desk like that, what's come over you!" She happily teased.

"Don't let my mother hear you saying that," he tragically informed her. "She wouldn't stop going on about it all summer, rest of my life most likely."

Alice's smile lit up the whole room as far as he was concerned, hardly even noticing the puffs of air still visible for the warmth of her smile. "So you finally mention her, and that's what you come up with. We've been dating nearly ten months now, how is that the first time you've mentioned your family to me? I've all but introduced you to mine."

Frank just shrugged without comment for now, and as always Alice happily stepped off the topic with good grace. "Well, our theory of objects going into motion with us seems confirmed then, you keep hold of these papers and maybe when we finally stop spinning through this kids life they might just come back with us all together."

"You think that's possible?" He asked eagerly, looking around again and thinking of several advantages they could have of this. It would be quite something to find magic beyond their years, even books not even published yet, and take them back to the past of all things!

"I don't see why not at this rate, with all we've done," she sighed, looking far less encouraging to the idea, her mind clearly on whose timeline they could erase in all this.

Frank frowned in acknowledgment of that, and quickly kept on track. "Right then, I'll leave them in here when we leave and hopefully they'll go back to him."

"Best hurry up and let me read them then," she agreed, holding out her hand. Potter was already up to the explanation of why Harry was going to this Deathday Party, though neither of them had given much care at all for Filch haranguing another student about filth in the castle.

Lily had paused in surprise of hearing Filch was a Squibb, but apparently she'd been the only one not to be enlightened of this news. Must be a mudblood thing, her mind scathingly informed her as she went back to braiding her hair and pacing restlessly along the black crepe paper nearest the instruments. It wasn't at all pleasant, the sound harming her eardrums so much she hardly caught a word of what Potter was now saying in regards to Harry's own dissent coming down here. It was still better than the rest of the room. That younger Black had moved away from this area at once and had instead located over to the rotting food table with a blanket look of disgust, as well he deserved, she hoped the smell was atrocious. The Marauders were all located more in the center of the room, as if hoping to avoid all repellent things around them, while Alice and Frank stayed near the door and continued whatever they were chatting about. She had no wish to join them this time, she just wanted to be alone.

That wasn't even true though, she wanted Severus. Alice's defense for her had been heartwarming, she'd even grudgingly acknowledge under duress she admired the extreme reaction from Potter in his shout she be apologized to. At the very least though both were just pacing acquaintances in all this, at most Alice was turning into a genuine friend and Potter slightly more tolerable if he could stop bothering to hex the one person missing. She wanted her best friend here for her, to have him be the one to tell Regulus off for that, to offer her to tag-team the little whelp in retaliation for that remark. She could so easily envision what Sev would have done for her in that moment of need of a true friend she was almost smiling despite the circumstances.

"-Prongs, would you bloody pay attention! You'd be done by now if you'd quit gawking at her every other line," Sirius groused beside him.

"Eh?" He muttered, turning to him in surprise, before Sirius was proven right the very next second by his eyes again flickering to her. He loved it when she played with that long red hair, though he preferred it down than the tight braid she was putting it in. He could almost imagine it, that long mane sweeping around them between the pearly figures that should have been surrounding this place, possibly passing through several without a care, eyes only for each other. They'd sway to the tune of this awful music around them, but it wouldn't be so awful with her in his arms, the two keeping each other warm in this freezing room.

"J-J-James! I am b-b-begging you t-t-to-" Peter couldn't even get the full sentence out he was stuttering so bad from the cold, and Remus wasn't even trying, pressing himself so close to Sirius he looked like he was trying to jump right into his arms for any warmth. James released a gusting sigh, yet more visible air puffing out of him, as he grudgingly turned back once more to his lad having a miserable time at this party. He did suppose those two weren't as used to the cold, they didn't have to go out in Quidditch practices during it but instead spent their times up in the warm fires while he and Sirius became accustomed to this. Course on nights during these weathers they all had fur coats, so that wasn't a problem either.

"Oh yes, alright," he huffed as he went back to seeing Peeves taunt Myrtle, that was nothing new. He honestly would have skipped right past the Headless Hunt being such ponces to Nick, as they were every time he invited them. They'd only heard of his Deathday Parties once before, tried to sneak down here last year but been caught, but from what he'd heard inside the room before then had been similar. This bit was turning out to be nothing of interest at all, and his mind was just starting to wander back to clever ways he was sure he could convince Evans to just have one dance with him in here when Harry finally excused himself from this place, and heard it again.

His breath caught in his throat, he swore his friends even stopped shivering in surprise and went for their wands with nothing but a steady hand as they all again strained to hear a thing, but it was just too noisy in this room with that horrid background sound. He wasn't even sure if he'd caught anyone else's attention besides his friends, but he certainly did when he swore at the top of his lungs.

"What do you mean Harry went after that voice!" Sirius agreed while looking faint. "Prongs, I think your kid may well have a death wish!"

James did not disagree, reading on in a complete panic Harry would catch up to whomever this was!

Regulus was quite grateful he didn't, not even he wanted to hear of the murder of a twelve year old, but he did come across something just as intriguing as an icy voice in Hogwarts.

"Chamber of Secrets?" Alice murmured for herself. "I've heard of that, I think my cousin Flora mentioned it, but I hardly listen to a thing she ever says." She already wished she could go back to reading more pages of that strange interview Lockhart had given a man regarding a werewolf attack, it had certainly been better reading material than this tale.

"Me mum might have mentioned it once as well, more like an old wives tale surrounding Hogwarts and when it was founded," Frank agreed, scratching at the back of his neck as he tried to recall.

"Twice in one day, I'm flattered," she happily told him.

"Don't get used to it," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her to draw her in as her shivers continued to increase.

The two froze, almost literally in these conditions, and it wasn't all for the cold anymore. "What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" She whispered so quietly beside him it was as if she feared whatever, or whomever, had done that were in here now.

Frank had no answer. Of all the things he'd seen the kids in this school do to each other, maiming a cat like that still ranked pretty high on his list.

Even now that the voice had gone, Potter clearly wasn't in any better of a mood. He seemed genuinely distraught at the arrival of someone, only to deliver another insult. No one got a chance to react again to that word being spoken as they were pulled once more from this room.

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai chapter 11

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 8130

Chapter notes: There’s a big time jump in here so be prepared. This is the chapter that really gets things going!

*******

It was like déjà vu, but the night was colder this time as Jungkook stepped from his porch, bundled warm with a purpose in his bones. You hadn’t been at school today and that made him upset. He’d practiced all night last night what he’d say to you, how he’d try to help you to see that he was thinking of what was best for you. He wasn’t ready yet, he needed more time; being someone’s soulmate was more responsibility than he’d ever expected and, honestly, he was terrified.

Watching you cry yesterday had been one of the most horrible moments of his life, though. Sure, growing up he’d been kind of mean; he’d liked making you mad, it was exciting. He never wanted to actually make you cry though. He was afraid that you were feeling like you weren’t good enough for him, like he thought he was better than you and maybe even thought you were ugly.

That wasn’t the case at all. In fact, you were probably better than him in a lot of ways and he didn’t feel like he deserved you. You were pretty and funny and nice but you always knew when to put someone in their place and he liked that a lot more than he was willing to admit. 

He still wasn’t ready, though. He wanted you to understand that. That it wasn’t you, it really was him. He needed time to process and figure himself out, he didn’t even know who he was as a person yet and suddenly he was just expected to be the missing piece that completes you? You’d said on multiple occasions that you weren’t broken anyway and how insulting it was to be treated like you needed someone to make you “complete.”

He never wanted you to feel like that; like you weren’t enough. Your bedroom faced the road and he moved quietly towards the house. All the lights were off now, it was late and he wasn’t even sure that you’d be awake, but he needed to talk to you; needed to explain that he was doing this for you. He couldn’t ask you to be patient while he figured himself out, though he wanted to. He did want you to understand, though. 

He stooped low, grabbing a small pebble and standing straight, staring up at your bedroom window. It was dark and the white curtains were stiff in their stillness. He took a deep breath before winding his arm back and releasing the small stone into the air, watching it soar towards your bedroom window and make contact with a soft “thwack” against the pane.

He stood, body trembling, part nerves and part cold as he waited for you. He waited for 5 minutes before picking up another pebble and sending it through the air to your window. “Please.” He mumbled softly, staring up at your window. “Please, Y/N, please.”

Two more pebbles followed in quick succession and his heart beat wildly. He felt like he couldn’t breathe; suffocated by the weight of your rejection. He just needed to explain; please.

Eventually, he realized he was being selfish. You obviously didn’t want to talk to him; didn’t want his explanation and he shouldn’t be standing outside your house trying to force his thoughts on you. He’d hurt you, even though he’d meant to give you what you wanted in the first place. You didn’t want a soulmate, you said it yourself. He could never make you love him, never be what you wanted so why should he try? 

The universe had really set him up to fail; disappointed the both of you and broken your hearts. He’d broken your heart. He was a failure before he could even try.

He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking up at your window one more time. It was just time to accept what he couldn’t change; he’d never be good enough. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

*********

4 months later

“Ah, my zipper is stuck!” You complained. You could hear Lillian chuckling behind you, coming up to help jiggle the zipper in your dress until it slid all the way up.

“All better.” She grinned

“Thanks.” You sighed, turning to smile at her. Noelle was sat on the locker room bench, already dressed in her red graduation gown, cap on and ready to go. “I can’t believe we’re graduating today!”

“It’s so crazy.” Noelle nodded, solemn. “Is it normal to feel this sad?”

“Of course.” Lillian frowned, sitting beside her friend and you went to sit with the two of them, linking fingers together and squeezing. “We’re moving onto the next phase of our lives now, but we’re all doing it without each other. I can’t believe this is it.”

“Don’t talk like that!” You pouted, squeezing her hand once more, “don’t talk like we won’t still be friends. We’ll still see each other whenever we come back home and we can plan a graduation trip somewhere fun, right?”

“That’s an awesome idea!” Noelle agreed, nodding her head and bouncing in her seat, “we’ll have plenty of time to save up, too.”

“Totally!” You agreed.  The locker room around you was bustling with life, all the other graduates getting ready for the ceremony. “I’m sure gonna miss you guys.”

“Oh please,” Lillian chuckled, “you’re gonna be living it up at John’s Hopkins, living your doctor dream! You won’t even have time to think about missing anyone.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m not going to John’s Hopkins yet; I need to get a bachelor’s degree first.”

“Yeah, well, don’t act like you’re not getting in.” Lillian scolded, “You’ll definitely get in and be living the dream in just a few years.”

Just then the vice principle entered the room, clapping her hands and ordering everyone to stand and get in their assigned spots. Your heart beat accelerated, jumping with nervous excitement. This was it, the first day of the rest of your life. 

You could get away from this city, away from your problems, and away from Jungkook. You hadn’t spoken since that day, but still you would see him in the hallways, you’d see his mom at your house whenever she’d come to hang out. 

Your families weren’t meeting together anymore, for obvious reasons, but at least your mom’s and aunty Jieun’s friendship was the same. You had genuinely worried that you and Jungkook had maybe ruined that. You were happy to know that it hadn’t. Even if it was a constant reminder of what could have been.

The stadium you were graduating in was large and open to the elements. Thankfully the day was sunny and warm and, like the season, left you feeling the excitement of new beginnings. You took your place, turning around to search the crowd for your family. You spotted Ella first, smiling and waving brightly and you waved back, the apples of your cheeks stinging with your grin. You waved at your parents next; your mom already had tissues clutched in her hand and up by her nose. They were sitting with Jungkook’s parents, both equally happy and teary eyed as your mom. 

You waved once more before turning back around to face the stage, tassel swinging by your cheek. This was it, time to start a new adventure, time to learn who you were and challenge yourself to positive change. You were so ready for the rest of your life.

********

12 years later

The air was stifling hot. You could feel the sweat collecting at your brow as you shifted underneath your blankets, deadweight laced around your waist and pulling you deep into the broad chest of its owner. The blinds, though pulled tight, were still letting in a sliver of light straight down the middle and you sighed, pushing the arm and blankets from your form before flopping on your back and gasping for air. August was miserable and August with a broken air conditioner was even worse. 

A soft sigh from beside you stole your attention and you turned your head to look at the dark-haired man beside you. Even with a mop of bedhead and sleep mused features he was still so handsome, after all these years. 

“Morning.” He mumbled, rubbing down the center of his face and you smiled.

  “Morning handsome.” Leaning forward you kissed him quickly before pulling back and watching as he stretched lethargically. “You said you have a late start today, right?”

He looked over at you pouting, “Yeah, but you don’t!” He pulled you into his arms and you swatted at him as his body heat enveloped you. 

“Gah, don’t you know it’s the temperature of the sun in here?” You complained and he laughed. Standing from the bed you groaned, stretching your limbs and walking to grab your shorts from the bench at the end of your bed. “Well, since you don’t have to be up yet, how about I make you some breakfast in bed?”

He sat up against the pillows, hand thrown behind his head as he surveyed you. “That would be great, babe.”

Walking into the front room you made your way to the living room windows and pushed them open, allowing the early morning air to help you escape the sweltering heat of your apartment. After a few deep breaths you stepped back from the window and made your way to the kitchen to rifle through the fridge. Eggs, bacon, and some toast would have to do. Normally you loved going all out on lazy mornings in, but since you didn’t happen to have a lazy morning, you’d make do with something a little simpler. Whistling, you set to work, plopping a few pieces of bacon into the frying pan and grabbing some bread to put into the toaster. 

After a few minutes of cooking you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist and you sighed as a chin perched on your shoulder. “Jimin!” You whined, “Getting up defeats the purpose of breakfast in bed.”

He chuckled, the low rumble dancing across your back as he placed a few kisses along your shoulder and neck. Turning you around, he squeezed your hips gently and smiled. “Sorry, love, I just wanted to see you.”

Running your hands up his forearms and onto his biceps you pouted, “Well how can I stay mad at you when you’re just so sweet?”

“Plus…I had to pee.” He laughed loudly at your furrowed brows and danced quickly away from your swatting hands. 

“Get back in bed, you menace! I’ll eat all this by myself, if you don’t!” You threatened. 

“I love it when you’re bossy.” He teased, running back into the bedroom and you smirked, turning back to the stove to pull the bacon off before it burned. 

As soon as you’d finished cooking, you carried a tray with the two plates and two glasses of orange juice into the bedroom, noting with pleasure that the curtains had been pushed back and the window was open to let in the fresh air. Jimin had made his way back to the bed and watched you eagerly as you walked towards him.

“Here, hold this a second.” You said, placing the tray on his lap and coming to sit cross legged beside him. 

“This looks so good, babe, thank you!” He leaned over to kiss you quickly before you took your plate from the tray and began to eat. 

“What time do you have to go in?” You asked, munching on your toast. 

“Not until 11. That case I was working on fell through. Get this, apparently the couple decided to “give it another shot.”” Jimin scoffed, sipping his drink before putting it back on the tray. 

“Isn’t that a good, thing, though?” You asked, chewing on a piece of bacon, “you said they had three kids, right? If they can make it work then this should be a positive thing.”

“Babe, they’ve come into our firm four times already. If you’re filing for divorce four times you should just go through with it, you know? Their kids are probably through the wringer at this point.”

You sighed, nodding and finishing off your toast before chugging your drink and setting it back on the tray. “You’re probably right, it’s just a shame is all.”

“The business I’m in is filled with shame.” Jimin frowned. 

“I gotta get dressed and run.” You said, standing up from the bed and sliding your plate back onto the tray.

“You’ve still got three pieces of bacon!” Jimin called after you as you ran to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“You can have them!” You replied and he hooted in excitement.

******

30 minutes later you were pulling into the underground parking of the hospital and locking the car door behind you before stepping into the elevator, waving at the security guard on your way. You still had 20 minutes before your shift started and that gave you just enough time to grab a coffee, chat with some coworkers, change into your scrubs, and head to your assigned surgery to prep the machinery. 

“Morning!” Lizzy called from her spot at the nurse’s station and you smiled as she held out a cup of coffee for you. 

“Have I told you recently that you’re an angel?” You cooed, taking the cup from her and holding it to your nose, inhaling deeply. 

Lizzy chuckled and shrugged, “you’ve told me a time or two. I figured I’d save you a few minutes so you could spend them with me!” 

You grinned, taking a sip of your coffee and humming happily. “OK, so what’s the gossip?”

Lizzy leaned forward eagerly, arms resting on the desk in front of her as you leaned across the counter. “Well, apparently Dr. Chen and Lola have been getting pretty serious, but apparently she’s also with Dr. Williams so I don’t give much credence to that one. Also, last night Mrs. Lucas, in room 411, apparently, she went bat shit on Dr. Boardman; thought he was Dracula or something, funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Oh! I nearly forgot the most important thing. There’s a new surgical resident and apparently he is criminally hot. You’re gonna be working with him after your morning meeting; you lucky bitch. Let me know if he’s really a panty twister, ok?”

You laughed loudly, standing upright as you took another sip of your drink. “You’ll be the first to get my report.” You teased. 

“By the way,” Lizzy said, leaning back in her own chair and shuffling some paperwork around, waving at one of the other nurses as they walked by, “How’s Jimin? You guys are coming up on your 8-year anniversary, right? Is he ever going to pop the question?”

You smiled, shrugging. “I don’t know, maybe. It has been 8 years; I really need to light a fire under that guy.”

“Seriously!” Lizzy commiserated, “How long does it take to get that kind of shit together? You are far more patient than I would ever be. I would have been dropping so many hints by now!”

“I do!” You insisted, “I leave magazines open to weddings and engagement rings, hint at my ring size. Honestly, sometimes I think he’s dense.”

“Might be time for you to get out your sledgehammer.” Lizzy replied offhandedly and you grinned, looking down at your watch. 

“I gotta go get changed. See you after surgery. Thank you for the coffee, love of my life!” You called, walking backwards towards the changing room.

*******

The first surgery of the day was fairly routine. You were working as one of the hospitals anesthesiologists in a 2 year fellowship program so aside from making sure the machines were working and the drugs were being administered properly, you didn’t have to do a whole lot during the actual procedure, just monitor the patients levels to make sure things were going according to plan while being monitored yourself by your supervisor.

 It was a fairly stressful job, but there were moments in time when things were calm enough that your mind began to wander. You began to think about Mrs. Lucas in room 411. You really hoped she wasn’t that crazy because you were supposed to pre-op her later in the day and you had neither the patience nor the energy to deal with that. 

Walking towards your 9am meeting you flipped through the notifications on your phone. The very first thing you noticed was a text from Jimin about how leaving the dishes with him defeated the idea of a relaxing morning breakfast in bed. You chuckled, rolling your eyes and continued to scroll. Most of the notifications you’d missed were garbage. There was one text from your mom about your sister’s wedding, but that was still three months away so you weren’t really sure why she was so worried right now. 

“Morning doctor.” 

You turned to find your attending sidling up to your side and you smiled. “Morning Dr. Rodgers. How are you?”

The middle-aged man sighed, pushing the mousy brown hair from his eyes and shrugging, “well, my kids got this damn science project that we’ve been working on for the last two weeks. Honestly, I don’t remember this kind of stuff being this time consuming as a kid…maybe it’s because my dad was doing half the work.” You laughed and he continued, “Anyway, his project is due tomorrow so that’ll be done with. So maybe ask me tomorrow how I’m doing.” He chuckled. 

The two of you walked into the boardroom and you took your place towards the back of the table beside one of the other anesthesiologist’s, Dr. Ryan. The two of you talked casually about the surgeries you had coming up that day and waited for the rest of the room to fill. Once everyone was seated the meeting started and you began to take notes, filling in blanks in notes you’d taken the day before that you hadn’t remembered the answers for at the time. 

About halfway through the meeting your mind began to wander again and you remembered what Lizzy had said earlier that morning. Apparently, there was a new surgical resident and you became curious, scanning the room slowly for any faces you didn’t recognize. At the end of the table, next to the surgical attending, there was a man with raven colored hair and you assumed he must be the new surgeon, but you couldn’t really see him. His back was to you and he was listening intently…something you should have been doing. You were curious, though. And disappointed when you couldn’t get a better look. 

Sighing, you were about to return your focus when the new resident turned to the attending and whispered something to him. You felt your blood run cold. While it had been just over 12 years since you’d seen him last, you would know his face anywhere. You couldn’t look away, vision tunneling as he turned suddenly, catching your eye and going stiff. 

You felt sick. He stared at you with the same intensity you were sure you were giving him. He wasn’t as boyish looking as he had been in high school, but the years had only done him good. While he was good looking as a teenager, he was devastatingly handsome in adulthood. His jaw was chiseled, cheeks prominent, eyes still large and doe eyed. His body had filled out and he looked like he was about to burst out of his scrubs. 

The room was suddenly very hot and you tore your gaze away from him, staring longingly at the door. When would this fresh hell end? There were still 20 minutes left in the meeting and you thought you were going to suffocate. You could still feel his eyes boring into the side of your face but you refused to look at him. 

Looking up at the clock you were sure the hands were mocking you. Were they going backwards? How was this meeting still not over?! You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, squirming in your scrubs and your neighbor looked at you with raised eyebrows. You gave him the most natural smile you could muster before staring back down at your notes and beginning to doodle. 

As soon as the meeting came to an end you grabbed your notes and rushed for the door. You still had 30 minutes before you needed to prepare the machines for the next surgery and you intended to spend all of those minutes in the bathroom composing yourself. Unfortunately, the universe always has other plans. 

“Dr. Y/L/N!” The surgical attending called from the front of the room and you paused, grimacing. “Come here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Ok, so you really only had about a second to compose yourself. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you turned, making your way towards the two men you dreaded most in the world with your head held high and your shoulders rounded back. 

“Good morning Dr. Smith.” You greeted the surgical attending, keeping your eyes trained on him and not the devastatingly beautiful man beside him.

“Morning! Y/N, I don’t know if you’ve been informed, but your next surgery is going to be with Dr. Blake and our new surgical resident, Dr. Jeon.” He motioned towards the man next to him and you steeled yourself, turning your gaze to him and nodding in acknowledgment.

  “Good morning Dr. Jeon.”

“Good morning.” He said softly. You’d forgotten how deep his voice was, and now it was husky with lost sleep in the early hour. His gaze was piercing, eyes dark, eyelashes fluttering across his cheeks as he studied you intently. What you wouldn’t give to sink into the floor. 

“Dr. Jeon here is an extremely promising surgeon. He finished a year ahead of his other classmates and had the highest grades we’ve seen in a long time.”

You bit your tongue in an effort to stay your snarky remark. Of course he hadn’t lost his genius in all the years you’d not seen one another. Why did the universe have to pair you with a man that made you feel so small?

What in the world were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations on being the best? Guess you’re really happy you didn’t end up with me? How in the hell had the two of you ended up in not only the same field but the same damn hospital? 

“That’s great.” You replied evenly. 

“If you don’t mind,” Dr. Smith continued, “I’d like to accompany the two of you to the theater, check on Dr. Blake and make sure everything is settling in.”

“That works for me.” Jungkook said and the three of you began to walk to surgery. If Dr. Smith noticed that you kept your mouth shut during the walk, he said nothing. Every nerve ending was screaming at you to run and it was taking all of your damned effort to not do just that. 

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and while Jungkook and Dr. Smith chatted you pulled it towards you to slide open the screen and read the latest text. You smiled softly as you pulled up Jimin’s message. 

Jimin: [IMG] I should get an award for this. Boyfriend of the year or something. What’s my reward? ;) [9:40am]

Attached to the text was a picture of Jimin doing the dishes in nothing but your apron. You smirked, clicking the reply button and chewing on your bottom lip in thought. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood, doctor?” You looked up suddenly to find both Dr. Smith and Jungkook looking at you and realized they’d come to a stop outside of the theater. Clicking your phone off quickly, you shoved it in your pocket. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, just a message from someone.”

“Jimin, I’m assuming.” Dr. Smith grinned and before you could stop what was sure to be a massive train wreck, he turned to Jungkook and continued. “Jimin is her boyfriend. Those two love birds have been dating for 8 years. 8 damn years and he still hasn’t popped the question, crazy right? He better step up his game before someone else snatches her up, she’s an excellent catch.”

Jungkook looked at you, eyes darkening with thought and you wanted to die. Why can’t the floor just open up already? “I’m sure she is.” He murmured softly.  

“Anyway, in we go.” He said, ushering the two of you in. You set about your work as a welcome distraction, turning on the auxiliary monitors to check the alarm settings and ensure it was properly functioning. As Jungkook and the senior surgeon began to discuss the task ahead of them you peered at them over the top of the equipment you were standing behind.

You should have known that the universe wasn’t done throwing the two of you together, that’s just what happened with soul mates. It would continue to circle your lives around one another until you either got married or died. Even if you married Jimin and Jungkook married someone else, your paths would always be intertwined. You would never be forced to be with one another, but your lives would always run parallel to one another. 12 years sure had been a good run, though. 

You rubbed idly at the tattoo of Jungkook’s name etched into your skin under the sleeve of your scrubs. You’d worked hard over the years to cover it and the only other person who’d seen it, aside from your family, was Jimin. He of course had his own tattoo, but he was constantly talking about how he didn’t believe in the constructs of “fate” or “soulmates.”

“One person the universe has governed will make you happy? That’s bullshit.” He’d said. Of course, you’d agreed. Jungkook had only ever made you miserable when you’d known him so how much could the universe really know about what would make you truly happy?

You sighed, returning to your task at hand. You needed to use the bathroom before the surgery and wouldn’t have a lot of time if you didn’t hurry up. After making sure the machines were ready you began to walk down the hallway towards the ladies’ room, feet dragging slightly as you took a moment to finally answer Jimin’s text. Just as you’d slid your phone back into your pocket you could hear someone calling your name and you turned to find Jungkook rushing to your side. 

He came to stand in front of you and you both stared at one another, surveying the other in curiosity as you waited for someone to speak. You didn’t remember him being quite as tall as he was now so you surmised that he must have grown an inch or two since you’d seen him last. Just when you were thinking he’d never say anything-

“It’s been a long time.” He said softly, looking down at you. 

“12 years.” You nodded. Of course, you knew that he knew this, but you felt awkward, like a teenage girl all over again. 

“How have you been?” He asked. 

“I’ve been fine,” you shrugged, “what about you?”

Jungkook nodded, “good as well…although I’m in an incredible amount of debt.” He chuckled and you smiled gingerly. You’d been paying your debt for a little while now and every time you made a payment you felt like it hardly even made a dent. “What are the odds that we’d both end up in the medical field?”

“It’s pretty crazy.” You admitted.  “Then again, you know how the universe works.”

Jungkook blushed, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m kind of surprised we didn’t see each other before this.” You shrugged but before you could say anything he continued. “So, 8 years, huh?”

You nodded, trying to avoid his gaze. “Nearly. It’ll be our 8-year anniversary this upcoming weekend. What about you, are you dating anyone?”

Jungkook shook his head no. “Do you think you’ll marry him?” He probed further and it annoyed you a little. 

“Why do you care, Jungkook? This is honestly none of your business.”

He frowned, brows furrowing deeply as he looked down at you. “Just curious about what my soul mate is doing with her life.”

“No, Jungkook, you don’t get to be like this!” You snapped, “I meant what I said before. You said you didn’t want a soul mate and shut me out so congratulations, you don’t have one anymore.”

“That’s not how it works.” He rolled his eyes, muscle in his jaw ticking. 

“You can’t just waltz back into my life and think you have some sort of sway with me! You don’t even know me anymore; it’s been 12 years!”

“Well whose fault is that?” Jungkook growled and you felt your blood boil. 

“Yours, Jungkook! You don’t get to act like this.” You hissed, “You shut me down, not the other way around. Stop acting like you’re the one who got your heart broken.” Before he could say anymore you spun on your heel, retreating quickly to the bathroom to cool down. 

After using the restroom and washing your hands you stood, staring at your reflection in the mirror and gripping the edges of the porcelain sink. The woman you saw was tired, exhausted even. She was tired from seeing no real progress with Jimin, tired from work, tired from a lack of social progress, and now seeing Jungkook again- she was exhausted.

This was not you. The universe had handed you a curveball and you needed to learn how to roll with the punches. You were looking to get an increase in salary when you were done with your fellowship program and fighting with Jungkook wouldn’t help anything. You’d just have to do your best to avoid him at all costs.  

After taking a deep breath and rolling your shoulders a few times to loosen them, you made your way back towards the theater. Taking one final breath, you stepped back into the room and began to prepare for the upcoming surgery. Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel his gaze and you chose to ignore him. You didn’t have the energy to deal with him at the moment, and honestly you had too much to do before the patient arrived and you weren’t going to spend that time feeling uncomfortable. 

When the surgery began you spent most of your time carefully managing the patient’s levels and watching to make sure everything was still in the safe zone. You couldn’t help as your gaze swept over Jungkook’s frame as he stood behind the surgeon, handing him the tools he needed and watching everything he did with an intensity that surprised you. 

He’d always been such an overachiever, you imagined when he finally got his opportunity to perform surgery that he’d be amazing at it. The thought felt bitter and you swallowed uncomfortably, gaze returning back to your work. 

After you’d cleaned up your station, you made your way to the staff room, prepared to lay down on the nearest flat surface and collapse for an hour. Your first surgery of the day had been a laparoscopic procedure so it hadn’t taken long but this last procedure had taken 3 hours and your stomach growled angrily. You would need to eat something before you could rest and you pouted in frustration. 

You stood in front of one of the vending machines in the break room, chewing on your bottom lip as you contemplated what crappy junk food you could eat to get you through a nap before making your way to room 411 to pre-op Mrs. Lucas. After buying a granola bar and grabbing it from the chute you walked back towards one of the couches and flopped down on your back, kicking your feet up and opening your snack. 

You closed your eyes as you took a bite of the granola bar, chewing slowly. The second you swallowed your last bite you were going to fall into such a deep sleep that would hopefully leave you feeling refreshed enough to make it through the rest of this day. You still had at least 5 hours left in your shift, maybe more if something crazy happened, before you could go home and crash and with the addition of one new surgical resident the shift was likely going to go much slower than normal. 

A throat being cleared brought your attention back to the room and you blinked, glancing around you to find the perpetrator. Frowning at Jungkook’s figure standing beside your spot on the couch you took another bite of your granola bar, leveling him with a glare.

“Can I help you?” You asked.  

Jungkook rubbed his hands together in discomfort before taking a seat in the chair next to you and leaning forward on his elbows. “Look, we’ve started off on the wrong foot again. We’ve got to work together and I really think it would be in our best interest to just try to get along and be professionals. We both know our history but for now we should just try and put it aside and do our jobs.”

Your frown deepened and you sat up to inspect him more thoroughly. He looked exhausted already and he’d only just begun his residency. His dark hair was falling haphazardly into his somber brown eyes and his jaw was tight with anxiety. Despite your reserve, you knew he was right, neither of you were the same people you were when you’d known each other all those years ago. It had been years’ worth of change and growth and maybe it was time to let it go.

“OK.” You said gently, “We can let it go. But, Jungkook, you can’t bring up the soulmate thing anymore. That time came and went and now I’m in a serious relationship with a man I want to marry. ‘Not all soulmates end up together’, remember?”

Jungkook’s face darkened and for a moment you felt nervous. What if he couldn’t let it go? What if Jimin found out he was somehow back in your life and decided to leave you? You couldn’t bear the thought and watched in apprehension as he warred internally within himself. 

“OK.” He said eventually. “You’re right, not all soulmates get together. Sometimes people change, but I suppose that doesn’t really matter much.” He concluded. Before you could say anything, he stood up, burying his hands in the pockets of his scrubs. “I’ll see you around doctor.”

You watched as he left the room before staring back at your food, the memory of the taste souring in your mouth and you sighed, tossing the half-eaten granola bar on the coffee table beside you and rolling your face into the couch cushions and setting your alarm for 1 hour. The least you could do at this point was sleep and try to pretend that Jungkook hadn’t turned your life upside down. Again.

******

Once you’d woken from your nap and made yourself look presentable you made your way towards room 411, steps heavy with dread. It wasn’t exactly necessary for you to do pre-op, with your profession as anesthesiologist you normally saw the patient in theater but in this case Dr. Chen wanted you there to help explain the actual process. 

Apparently, Mrs. Lucas was a “nervous” patient and a little bit flighty. She had insisted the more details, the better she would feel and since you didn’t currently have anything else in your schedule you were now on your way to hold the over grown baby’s hand. 

Truthfully, you understood, surgery was pretty scary for most, but Mrs. Lucas was a special brand of patient. Her reputation had proceeded her in the last two days as the staff had been running tests to figure out what was wrong with her. Eventually they discovered a blockage in her bowls and opted for a partial colectomy to remove a portion of her large intestine. 

Apparently, she’d thrown a fit stating she didn’t come to the hospital to have parts of her body taken out, she only wanted to take some medicine and be done with it. 

You rounded the corner to 411 and paused outside of the door, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and closing it behind you, greeting the people in the room as you made your way to Dr. Chen’s side.

“Mrs. Lucas, this is the anesthesiologist that will be taking care of you during your surgery. She’s here to answer any of your questions and help put you at ease.”

“Tell me honestly, doctor; am I going to die?” Mrs. Lucas was a short, squat woman, hair greying and curled in wisps on top of her head. Her face was overly round and slightly red with heat and her nose was scrunched and just a little too small for her face.

You smiled, “As with all surgeries there are always risks but they are small and nothing more serious than a possible infection. Your surgeon is highly capable and we will take the utmost care of you and your health.”

“I read online that I could get pneumonia or you could pop my blood vessels.” She insisted and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yes, those are some possible risks, but again, the likelihood of any of that occurring is very slim. Dr. Michaels has years of experience under her belt and she’s one of the best surgeons we have. You’re in highly capable hands.”

“I also read that general anesthesia is like a medical coma. Is that true? I don’t want to be put in a coma, what if you can’t take me out of it?”

“Mrs. Lucas, general anesthesia is just a sleep like state. It’ll be like going to bed and waking up after a long nap. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You spent the next 20 minutes briefing Mrs. Lucas and answering all of her rapid-fire questions before making your way to the cafeteria to grab a late lunch. You only had about 30 minutes to eat before you had to make your way back to the theater to start Mrs. Lucas’ surgery. 

You spotted Lizzy sitting in the center of the cafeteria after grabbing a quick sandwich and made your way over as she waved at you frantically, opening your food and taking a bite so large you could probably choke if you weren’t careful.

“So?” She practically gasped, “You worked with panty twister, right? Was he as gorgeous as rumor says?”

You sighed. Honestly, you had completely forgotten you had told her you would update her. How in the world were you supposed to navigate these waters when the last thing you wanted to think about was Jungkook’s handsome ass face?

“Yeah, he’s handsome.” You said carefully, hoping that she would leave the subject, but you should have known. 

“What does he look like? Don’t hold back! Honestly, you’re so lucky it’s unfair.”

You took another large bite of your sandwich in order to avoid the topic as long as possible but Lizzy was voracious and extremely patient. She sat watching you chew, smiling at you coyly and you sighed again, swallowing your bite as you decided to just tell her what she wanted to know. 

“Fine, fine. He’s extremely good looking. Dark hair, dark eyes, lean but strong, his jaw could cut glass, deep voice. He’d make you weak in the knees if you saw him, Lizzy.”

She swooned at the idea, clutching at her chest and peering up at the ceiling. “I hope I do see him,” she remarked, “I’m looking for a man to occupy my time until I meet this one.” She said, tapping at the tattoo on her wrist. “His name doesn’t happen to be Spencer Craft, does it?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, this guy’s not your soulmate.”

“Damn shame.” She sighed. “So, what is the good doctor’s name?”

“Dr. Jeon.” You replied softly, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“So, what do you know about him? Single? Married? Did he end up with his soulmate? What?”

You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich. “We didn’t really talk that much.” You said. It was getting harder not to lie so you quickly finished off your sandwich before standing up and wiping your hands off on your pants. “I’ve got surgery soon so I need to go prepare the equipment and go to the bathroom before it starts. I’ll see you later.”

Lizzy frowned but nodded, motioning you away as you discarded your trash and left the cafeteria. Honestly, you were at your wits end with this day and it had all spawned with Jungkook’s entrance back into your life. Time could not pass fast enough until home time, especially since it felt like every corner you turned Jungkook just happened to be lurking there. 

Well, perhaps lurking wasn’t fair. He was really following around the surgical attending and taking notes. It just felt like lurking when it involved him. At least you only had one more surgery and then sitting down to review cases and finish paperwork before escaping for the day. 

Normally you actually really liked work, but now you had the feeling that was going to change. Jungkook had said you should both try to be professional and just work together as colleagues, but old habits truly die hard and this was not going to be an easy hurdle for you. 

As soon as you put the last period on your paperwork you made your way quickly to the locker room to grab your stuff. Normally you would say goodnight to Lizzy before you left but as it was, she was busy talking to another doctor about something and you really wanted to avoid any more gossip sessions.

*****

When you finally made it home the house was silent and still way too hot. The repair man couldn't come until tomorrow evening and you were dreading another night suffocating in your bed with Jimin's body heat to accompany you. He liked to cuddle when he slept, which was usually fine, but without AC you thought you might actually die.

The thought of just ordering dinner crossed your mind, especially after the day you'd had today, but you'd promised Jimin you'd make his favorite dish so you sighed, toeing off your shoes and dropping your bag on the kitchen island. But first, pajamas.

In the end, preparing dinner was actually therapeutic. Chopping the vegetables gave you a chance to release the pent-up tension in your shoulders since the arrival of Jungkook back in your life. You suddenly wished you were baking instead so that you could punch the dough and envision his face in its place. Maybe later.

Just as you were pouring the food onto your individual plates, the sound of Jimin's key opening the door caught your attention. He looked more tired than usual, but in his line of work you weren't surprised. While a doctor fixed people's broken bodies, Jimin watched as a person’s emotional well-being was ripped to shreds in front of him. You couldn't imagine the stress that put him under.

“Hey baby.” You smiled, placing the food down on the kitchen table and waiting for him to join you.

He looked up at you, lips straining to give you a smile.  A kiss on the cheek was your only real greeting as he sat down at the table, head in his hands and you frowned, sitting beside him and wrapping your arm around his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Just a long day at work. Got a new case today with this couple who’ve only been married two years. They’re at each other’s throats and it’s kind of exhausting. They're young and it's actually kind of sad. He keeps screaming about how she should have never pushed him to get married when they weren't soulmates. Destined to fail, according to him. Can you believe that bullshit?" Jimin scoffed.

You frowned. While it did seem like most divorces were due to not marrying soulmates, it wasn't always the case. Jimin had definitely had a couple cases of soulmates with irreconcilable differences who just refused to make it work.

As it was, you were not a big believer in a happily ever after or that a soulmate was an end all to your problems. Considering your own soulmate, it clearly didn't always work out and often time’s soulmates weren't even really that compatible. You weren't exactly sure how the universe paired people together, but sometimes it just seemed like a royal screw up.

"What seems to be the main problem in their relationship?" You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Jimin frowned, "I'm not a shrink, sweetheart."

"I know," you replied, "but sometimes you can tell that kind of stuff by the things they argue about or even if they just flat out tell you."

He shrugged, chewing idly on his mouth full. "I suppose just big differences of opinion. The guy’s main issue is that he insists they should have never gotten married since they're not soulmates. She keeps insisting they could have made it work if he would have just put some effort into it. Frankly, most relationships fail due to lack of communication."

"Or one person meets their soulmate."

Jimin snorted. "Even then, that relationship only failed because of difference of opinion. One person believed in soulmates and the other didn't."

"So, you're telling me that if you ever met Molly you wouldn't be the least bit curious?" You frowned. You wanted to believe that would be true, but you knew for yourself it wasn't. Even though Jungkook and you didn't work out, there had always been a part of you that wondered if you could have if the two of you had tried.

Jimin seemed uncomfortable at the mention of his soulmates name, his frown deepening. "Not in the slightest. I have no interest in that woman, I don’t know her so why would I leave what I have for some person that means nothing to me?"

"Romantic." You teased and Jimin smiled.

"You know I love you; do I really have to say it every day?"

"No," you conceded, "but it is nice to hear."

Jimin reached across the table, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing. "I love you."

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "I love you too."

******

After dinner you splayed yourself across the couch with a book in hand and chewing absentmindedly on a piece of chocolate you'd snuck from your secret stash in a box of plain cheerios (Jimin was a health nut with a serious sweet tooth and a deep hatred of Cheerios in general, it was the perfect hiding spot.)

You could hear him on the phone with one of his colleagues arguing about their newest case. Apparently, the Johnson's, as you'd overheard, wanted an emergency mediation the next day to speed up their divorce.

Their relationship definitely wasn't healthy, divorce honestly sounded like the best option for them, but you did feel sad for them. Growing up you didn't really know anyone who had married someone other than their soulmate, divorces weren't really a thing. Of course, you'd read about people getting divorced or about soulmates choosing to not be together, but you'd never seen it before. Until you're own situation, of course.

As you'd grown up you'd seen it around a little more, the occasional case of people getting married because their soulmates had actually died and they didn't want to live alone, there was one other couple you'd met that had chosen to live like you and Jimin, but as a whole you mainly only heard about those sorts of things through your boyfriend or in a gossip magazine.

"Baby." Jimin called from the doorway of the bedroom and you looked over at him as he tugged at the waist band of his flannel pajama bottoms. "I'm really tense today. Care to help me loosen up?" He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you chuckled, closing your book.

"I don't know, I'm reading a pretty good book. Make it worth my while?"

Jimin grinned, biting his bottom lip and shrugging. "Don't I always?"

"You've got a pretty good track record." You teased, moving to stand in front of him.

Jimin hummed, leaning down to take your lips with his own and you smiled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and closing the bedroom door behind you.

********

Wow, so that was a MAJOR time jump, am I right? I have been so, so excited and nervous to share this chapter with you and I hope you liked it! 

The next chapter likely won’t be out until later in February. I’m job hunting and need to be more serious about it. I’m always working on my stories, though, and will try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can <3 <3

Let me know what you think, loves!

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

Copyright © 2018  by taeken-my-heart (Nora.) All rights reserved.

[mellifluoushood]

Into The Dark - C.H. AU [Chapter 2]

A/N: It’s chapter 2 already! After having a conversation with @calumscalm​, I got inspired, again. I was originally gonna leave this at 2.5k words, but then Nads and I got talking and then it ended up being 5k so hahahahaha, whoops. And a very special thank you (and CREDIT) to @ammwritings​ for making this mood board for the series! I absolutely adore it. xx Synopsis: Full-time college student, Seraphina Sallow, works as a receptionist for world-famous tattoo artist, Calum Hood. Their friendship blossomed when she wrote an article about his tattoo parlour, Fallen Angel Tattoos, for a journalism project at school. Since then, she’s been working as a receptionist at his parlour to put herself through school. As college tuition increases and her social security checks get smaller, she’s beginning to struggle to keep up with her payments. And then, a fallen angel shows up in the parlour, offering her the solution to all of her problems. But, at what cost? (TEASER) (CHAP. 1) Genre (this chapter is): angst / fluff / smut / normal Warning: heavy mentions of drug use and selling, strong language, weapons (firearms), some suicidal thinking, vomitting Taglist: @calumscalm​ @gigglyirwin​ @ammwritings​ @loveroflrh​ @dukehoods​ @toofadedtofight​ @babylon-corgis​ @talkfastromance4​ @thesubtweeter​ @vipclifford​ @spicycal​ @cals-wildflower​

“I’ll walk her home, Cal,” Michael states, grabbing his jacket from the back of his bar stool. It was closing, the ceiling lights were being flicked on and the music was switched off. 

“No, I’ve got it,” Calum grabs his own jacket, not even looking at Seraphina. Her gaze drifts between the two men, one a lot more intoxicated than the other. She always felt safe with Calum, but there was something about his stature tonight that lit her stomach with unease. She wanted to explain it away because her situation earlier, that she was naturally on edge, but his silence throughout the night did nothing to calm her.

“You’ve had like, eight or nine glasses of whiskey, Cal. I can get it-”

“-I’m walking her home,” Calum states, turning to look at Michael. His eyes are daring Michael to challenge him, to try and argue with him about who walks her home. Michael looks over Calum’s shoulder at Seraphina, to check on her, but she’s looking at her shoes. He looks up at Calum again before sighing, giving him a pat on the shoulder goodbye. Calum watches as Michael walks around him and hugs Seraphina. He bends down, his taller frame towering over her’s,

“You okay with him?” He asks, close enough to her ear that only she can hear his question.

“I’ll be fine, Mikey, thank you,” she looks up at him. The exhaustion on her features is prevalent. The lids of her eyes are hooded, complimented by dark circles underneath them. Her posture is no longer stiff, but slouched and lethargic, “I just want to go home.”

Michael nods at her before leaving the bar, leaving Calum and Seraphina, standing in silence. He doesn’t even look at her before heading for the entrance, his Docs clabbering against the wooden floor of Steve’s. His leather jacket squeaks as he heads out the door. She sighs, rubbing a hand down her face before following him.

He’s standing against the brick wall, lighting a cigarette. He holds the pack out to her, where she fumbles to take one. When she does, he hands her the lighter without saying anything. She sparks the lighter, bringing the flame up to the cigarette, taking a breath. The cigarette lights and she hands the lighter back to Calum before beginning to walk in the direction of her house. Her decision to leave her car for her to collect in the morning was a smart one, weed and alcohol swimming through her bloodstream and Calum was too drunk to drive it for her.

The beginning of the walk is silent. Calum’s boots thud against the sidewalk as Seraphina shuffles along next to him, sucking on her cigarette with intensity. She can feel the beginning of the nicotine buzz in her system, her head going slightly fuzzy. She doesn’t look at Calum, knowing his silence will only last for so long. She looks down at the walkway under her feet, counting the cracks in the pavement and stepping over the seams.

“Where were you tonight?” Calum cuts straight to the point, his voice void of emotion. She looks up at him. His gauges and nose ring twinkle under the street lights. When he looks down at her, his eyes are stone cold. They stare right through her act and down to the very being of her soul. She shies away from his eyes, looking back down at the sidewalk.

“As I said, I had plans.”

“What plans?” He scoffs, finishing off his cigarette before tossing the butt in a storm drain. He turns to look at her again, “Where were you?” She can smell the whiskey lingering on his tongue and inner cheeks. The stench of alcohol is one she smells on Calum once a week, but this time, it smells different. It smells dangerous.

“I had plans,” she shrugs, “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business if you’re doing stupid, Seraphina,” he uses her full name and it almost makes her stop in tracks. But she keeps walking, attempting to build her exterior walls higher than Calum would ever be able to see over. She had to protect him. She wanted to protect him more than she wanted to protect herself.

“I had plans, Calum. Drop it,” she snaps at him, his prodding getting dangerously close to the topic she so desperately wanted to avoid.

“Plans where you come back, completely dishevelled, after being vague about your plans and not answering your phone for two hours. Okay, those kinds of plans,” Calum begins to slur his words at the end, antagonising her. He’s poking at the weak spots in her walls she’s ferociously building up, trying to get her to crumble in any way. She doesn’t budge.

“Honestly, Calum, it’s none of your fucking business.” She stops walking, looking up at him. She’s a few feet from her apartment building, but the anger beginning to swim through her blood is keeping her feet from moving. 

“It’s my fucking business when there’s a gun in your fucking pocket,” he seethes. He points to the Glock that she hadn’t tried to conceal on her walk home, “Because I know that’s not fucking legal.” Her fingers fumble to move her oversized shirt to cover the bulge on her hip. 

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

“Fuck off, Seraphina. Why do you have a fucking gun in your pocket?” He’s angry. He can feel the anger seeping out of his ears like steam. His heart is pounding out of his chest, his pulse beginning to speed up at the adrenaline starting to course its way through his system. The whiskey makes the corner of his vision blurry, but his anger only intensifies his tunnel vision. He steps close to her, only a few inches from their chests touching. She’s quiet, staring up at him, defying his questions, daring him to continue just the way he had dared Michael to defy him, “I’m going to ask one more time. Why is there a gun in your fucking pocket?”

“You can ask all you want,” she says through gritted teeth, “You’re not getting an answer because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Calum mutters, shaking his head and bitterly chuckling at her answer, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves. He heads back for the bar, hoping to catch a cab. The anger causes his head to pound, but as he walks away, just like he did earlier, the anger dissipates and he wonders to himself if he’s making the right decision by walking away. His question is answered when he turns around to see if she had gotten inside okay.

She’s sitting on her doorstep, unmoving. Her face is covered by her hands, hair tucked behind her ears. He notices the way the piercings on her cartilage sparkle. He can’t hear her, he’s too far away and his hearing is shot from the amount of alcohol in his system. He furrows his brows, turning around and walking back to her. As he gets closer, he notices her chest heaving. He begins to hear her whimpers of cries and the sound of her sniffling. She hears his boots approaching, quickly wiping at the tears on her cheeks and looking up at him,

“What, Calum?” Her voice bites at him, “What do you want?” She has a scowl on her delicate features and Calum frowns.

“I want to help you,” he says, his tone gentle for the first time all night. She shakes her head, 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she instinctually sniffles from her tears earlier, “There’s nothing to help with.”

“Okay,” Calum drags out, looking down at her. Her brown eyes meet his and she has the same look in her eyes when she saw that text message earlier in the night. His eyes flick from her left to her right, trying to decipher what the emotion was, but he had never seen it on her before. His mind swims with alcohol and questions, “I’m going to sit here with you until you feel like going inside. You don’t have to tell me anything, you don’t even have to speak to me, but I’m here, okay?” His words jumble together, his intoxication leaking over his lips and mixing with the need for sleep that pulled at his shoulders. She doesn’t respond before he’s collapsing next to her on the concrete stoop and sitting close to her. 

He can smell her perfume and shampoo. Her shampoo smells like lavender, she showers every night before bed because the scent of her shampoo makes her sleepy. He remembers asking her why she always smelt like lavender when she came into work one morning. Her perfume varies on the day. He’s identified around seven scents and he can distinguish which one they are based on her mood. Daisy by Marc Jacobs is her simply unbothered mood, Gucci’s Guilty Absolute Pour Femme when she was feeling particularly creative, Black Opium by Yves Saint Laurent when she was feeling a bit down, and the list goes on. She always smelt luxurious, hints of deeper scents, notes that would be found in men’s cologne but are mixed with typical notes in women’s perfume. It suited her - it was not bright.

She looks up at Calum, her eyes red-rimmed with tears instead of her high, wondering what the fuck was going on with him. He had been pestering her, questioning every move she’s made since she left the parlour earlier, but his fluctuating attitudes and simple assholery sent her into a near spiral. The last thing she needed right now was for Calum to turn on her. Calum, one of her good friends, who’s been there for her more than she’s willing to admit. And she can’t bring herself to drag him into another situation, especially one she had put herself in. She knows his past, he knows the world he was involved in before he invested in the parlour. She couldn’t bear to bring him back there, not when she had willingly made the choice to contact Roy.

Calum looks down at her, not speaking, just as he said. He was there, simply if she needed someone. She notices the way his brows have furrowed, not angry, but with concern and worry as he tries to figure out what’s wrong with her. She watches as he takes in her appearance, looking for any sign of what she’s gotten herself into besides the gun stuffed in her waistband.

“Do you... do you wanna stay the night?” She asks, noting his bleary eyes and tired stature.

“Only if you’re okay with it.” She nods, standing up from her place on the stoop, dusting off her shorts and turning to unlock her door. He waits until the door is unlocked and the door is open before he stumbles to his feet and trudges in the front door. 

“Bed or sofa?”

“Whichever,” she shrugs, walking into her bedroom before he makes up his mind. He stands in the doorway, shutting the door behind him. She takes the time to stash the gun in her pocket in her nightstand. Her fingers wrap around the grip, pulling it out and examining it. It’s heavier than she ever thought a gun would be. It weighs down her arm, straining the muscles in her triceps to keep it level. She takes a shaky breath, looking back at the open bedroom door, checking for Calum and raises it. She doesn’t take off the safety but simply gets used to the feeling of holding it. She adjusts her hips and shoulders, just like she had seen in every action movie ever, closing one eye and seeing what the aim should look like. Her spine tingles with promises she had made to herself to never own a firearm and her palms begin to sweat. She takes another breath, opening the nightstand and placing the gun over a few notebooks she had stored there. She closes it and turns around to the door. It’s still empty. 

She sighs and grabs a spare pillow from her bed and stops at the closet in the hall, grabbing a comforter for Calum. When she emerges, she finds him in the kitchen nursing a glass of water. He hears her footsteps and looks up, eyes flickering to where the gun had been all night. He notes its disappearance. She looks at him. The one light in the kitchen illuminates the sleeves of tattoos that decorate both arms, shading and line work immaculate. Decorated with swirls, patterns and flowers, the tattoos curl their way up past the hem of his t-shirt and to his neck, chest and back. She’s seen the chest and back tattoos a few times in the accidental slip of walking into the parlour when he’s pulling off his jumper and his shirt underneath rides up. She knows he has one massive piece on his back that took hours because he had complained about it after he had it done. That was only a week after she had started working at Fallen Angel. She looks down at her feet without saying anything to Calum and puts the pillow and comforter on the sofa.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” she mutters, collecting a glass of water for herself, not saying another word to Calum. He watches her move around the kitchen. Her shoulders are slumped and the dark circles underneath her eyes are more prevalent than earlier. She looks defeated, whether it was from her argument with Calum or what she had been up to earlier in the evening was unclear to him. He wanted to ask, he really did, but knew he shouldn’t press her. Not right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as she walks out of the kitchen. She turns around to look at him for a split second, her eyes sad. She shakes her head,

“It’s fine, Calum. There’s nothing you can do.”

She walks into her bedroom, shutting the door before Calum can ask her what she means by that. He looks down at the glass of water, his hand loosely grasping the base and he has to resist the urge to hurl it at the wall. He wants to help, that’s why he came back. That’s why he turned around and sat on those steps and waited. He wants her to tell him what’s going on. His blood alcohol only intensifies those feelings, blood pumping at the small flick of anger that originally started in his chest and begins to consume his head. But he knows her, and he knows her past, and the only way for her to open up to him is when he’s calm.

He sighs, finishing the water and placing the glass in the sink before padding over to the sofa and beginning to undress. He unbuckles his belt, the metal clanking against each other before he pushes the hem down his waist. His lower half is covered in briefs, tattoos on his thighs peeking out from underneath the black fabric. He strips off his socks, sitting on the couch. He shrugs off his leather jacket, piling it on top of his jeans and removes his t-shirt. He tosses the shirt on the pile of clothing before reaching behind him for the pillow. He tucks it behind his head as he lays down on the sofa, forgetting about the comforter for a moment. With one hand behind his head, he stares at her ceiling.

Before his thoughts get far, he begins to hear music emerge from the crack of her door and through the thin walls of her house. He frowns, struggling to hear the lyrics of the song. As if she can read his mind, she turns up the music, emphasising the words coming out of her speaker. The guitar lick and kick drum sound vaguely familiar, before a raspy female voice comes in again. She had the song on repeat. He recognises the song as 'You should be sad' by Halsey and his heart aches for her. The few times he’s heard this song is when she was so upset at the parlour that he gave her control of the playlist for the day. It was songs similar to this that occupied the speakers all day, but she always seemed to appreciate this one the most. He would always see her sitting at the front desk, foot against the desk and leaning back in her chair, staring far away. He never asked about it.

So, he pulls the duvet from the edge of the sofa and over himself, turning onto his side and drifting off into an alcohol-aided sleep.

She sits on her bed, lamp switched on, staring at the wall in front of her. Her eyes glaze over, the song background music to the hurricane occurring inside of her. Her mind thinks to the drugs stuffed under the floorboard next to her dresser. She thinks about the little baggies sitting in her purse. She thinks about the gun stuffed in the nightstand right next to her. She wonders if there was an intruder if he would find the gun, and kill her in her sleep. A small part of her wishes it would happen. The university payments stacking up and the dwindling checks from the U.S. Federal government as if to say they’re sorry that her parents were murdered wouldn’t matter anymore. The fact they were murdered only a few feet from her very house, only a few doorways down, wouldn’t matter. She thinks about the few friends she has lingering in her life. She thinks about all of the men that have fucked her over, literally and metaphorically. She thinks about everything that has gone wrong in her life, her mind spiralling out of control as loses track of where the train of thought even started. The drugs. The thing that is supposed to help her out of her financial hole, but the feeling in her gut tells her something different. 

Her stomach begins to gurgle, tossing and turning the few drinks she had at the bar. She blinks for the first time in what feels like hours, looking up at the ceiling and pushing down the bile that begins rising in her throat. She swallows, but her mouth begins to fill with saliva. She all but runs to the bathroom in the hallway, busting open the door and emptying the few drinks of her stomach into the toilet. She absentmindedly feels for the edge of the open door, pushing it shut so Calum couldn’t hear her retching into the toilet. She coughs, gagging on nothing and sucking down as much air as she can. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, her arms finding their way around the seat of the toilet. She rests her head on her bicep, facing towards the toilet she had just gotten sick into. She thinks of waking Calum, what he might ask, what he might find out and it sends another wave of nausea bubbling out of her mouth and spilling into the toilet. 

She hears a knock on the bathroom door,

“No, don’t come in,” her voice is weak, straining against her acidic throat. Calum doesn’t listen as he pushes open the door, looking at Seraphina, kneeling over the toilet,

“You never fucking listen to me,” she sighs, shutting her eyes and reaching up to flush her sick down the toilet. Calum exhales loudly, shutting the door behind him. He sits against the door, so he’s at her level,

“Are you okay?”

She chokes back a bitter laugh, not wanting the movement of her muscles to stir up another fit of vomit. She just shakes her head, eyes still closed,

“I’m fine. Just go back to bed.”

“Seraphina,” he huffs, “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think you’re a guy who walks away whenever he gets angry. I think you’re a guy who wants to help others, not for them, but because it makes you feel better about yourself,” she snaps. Her words are meaningless to her the moment she spews them out of her mouth, but she can’t bring herself to open her eyes and apologise, “Just... leave me alone.”

“You’re not like this,” Calum shakes his head, ignoring the feeling of his heart beginning to crack at the seams at her unkind words. He licks at his lips, eyes focused on the woman who’s still curled up around the toilet bowl.

The tone of his voice awakens something in her own chest and she opens her eyes, looking at the man in front of her, “I...”

“I know, ‘phina, I know,” he soothes, crawling closer to her. He begins to stroke her back, the tears that were pricking at her eyes spilling over her cheeks. He stops her apology before she can say it, knowing it’ll start a crying fit, but it looks inevitable now. She was going to cry, no matter what he did. So, he sits there, stroking the smooth skin of her back underneath her t-shirt. The tears start trickling down her cheeks, the warmth of the drops seemingly burning her skin in their path. Her breathing becomes laboured, her cheeks turning a pink as she sits and cries into the toilet.

“C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” Calum soothes, standing up from the floor. He crouches over and places an arm around Seraphina’s waist and helps her up. The soothing touch of his palms keeps her from another fit of tears, instead calming the anxiety in her chest, replacing another inkling of a feeling in her heart. She looks up at Calum, eyes still stained with tears, streaks dripping on her cheeks. She offers him a tight-lipped smile. Calum returns it, using his free hand to cup her jaw. He uses his thumb to wipe the stains from her olive skin, admiring the small freckles that are speckled across her nose and the blush of her cheeks. It’s sad, but she looks beautiful when she cries, at least to Calum. He hesitates slightly, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her hairline. Her baby hairs tickle his upper lip, the frizz of her curls brushing along his jaw. She closes her eyes at the touch, basking in the feeling of safety, of protection that Calum has always seemed to provide, but in this moment, he exudes it. Safety.

She’s always liked that about Calum. After breaking through his stone-cold exterior, she noticed sides of him that seemed so stereotypical of a guy like him, but she adored nonetheless. She’s noticed the way his eyes crinkle with a smile when he sees his mother’s name pop up on the screen of his phone. She’s watched as he texts his sister daily updates, whether it was about a client or just how he was feeling. She’s watched as he’s stood up for her when a drunken man gets a little too close in the bar even though she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. She would always chastise him for that, even though he insisted he knew she would be just fine without him. But, he would do anything for the people he cared for, and that’s something she admired about Calum. His heart. She admired his willingness to stand up for anyone, no matter his feelings towards them, and his loyalty to those who meant most to him. That’s what made him so successful before the parlour - his loyalty. His nights spent behind bars, lips shut as he waited to be bailed out. 

She places a hand to his chest, pushing him back slightly. Without words, she turns to the sink and brushes her teeth. Calum’s arm remains in proximity of her, his hand drifting down to the sides of her waist as she runs her toothbrush under the sink. Her stomach begins to flutter, in a good way, when his thumb starts caressing the skin of her hip underneath her shirt. She looks up at him in the mirror, and he’s already looking down at her. She can’t read the look in his eyes, but there’s something softer, kinder about the way he’s looking at her. She notices the smile lines by his eyes and the sunburn that lightly dusts his cheeks from his days off, sitting out in the sun. She looks away, spitting into the sink and wiping her mouth. She lets him guide her into her room.

He notices the immaculate state of her room. The walls she painted grey herself, even after Calum insisted on helping her, reflected nicely in the faint light coming from her bedside lamp. She had painted her dresser and nightstands black, changing the handles to silver. She’s hung up fairy lights along the crown moulding of her room, shining down on different arrays and shapes of Polaroids. Each wall had a different shape made from Polaroids. One wall held a square, a circle, a rectangle and a triangle. He would’ve figured a heart would be more artistic and heartfelt, but he’s learned the only place she voices her emotions is in her music taste and the tattered black journal she brings to every one of her Creative Writing lectures.

He helps her over to her side of the bed, pulling back the comforter that she had been sitting on earlier and letting her slide in. She rests her head against her pillow, eyes looking up at Calum as he focuses on pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Their eyes meet and he gives her a tired smile, his own eyes starting to show shadows underneath them.

“Goodnight, Seraphina,” he sighs, hesitating once more before leaning down again and placing one last kiss on her forehead. She looks up at him as he does, trying to memorise each detail of him so close. The scruff that trails along his jaw, the birthmarks on his cheek, the exact placement of his nose ring, the small hairs straying from his eyebrows, the length of his eyelashes. Everything she can commit to memory.

When he pulls away, he turns away without looking at her face, afraid of what might be written on it. With his back turned, he can barely hear her whisper,

“Can you stay here? With me?” He stops in his tracks, turning and looking at Seraphina who’s eyes gleam up at him. And he finds himself nodding and sliding into bed before the nerves of laying next to her set in. He lays underneath the covers, beginning to feel the traces of her body heat radiating into the linens. He tries to calm the increase of his heartbeat, looking up at the ceiling. He can feel her turn next to him,

“Can you,” she exhales shakily, “hold me?” Calum looks down at her, similarly to the way he had when she had asked her first question. Instead of answering, he turns on his side and uses his hand to hold her hip and pull her towards him. She immediately tucks her head into his tattooed chest, her own heart rate pounding against her chest, her stomach erupting with flames that dance along the bottom of her ribcage. But, she can feel the same safe feeling wash over every limb, settling her every muscle. She cautiously wraps her own arm around Calum’s midsection, which he seems to welcome. She presses her hand to his bare back, palm flat against his spine. His arm wraps around her back, his large fingers clutching to her other hip, holding her flat against him. Their hearts beat rapidly, but in sync.

“Goodnight, Calum,” she whispers, her eyelashes tickling his chest as she closes her eyes.

He exhales shakily, “Goodnight, ‘phina.”

[ohshcscenerios]

The Case for Takashi x Haruhi P.1

As most of my followers may already know, my OTP for Ouran Host Club is Takashi Morinozuka with Haruhi Fujioka. When I read the manga for the first time I fell in love with the idea of them being a couple and the more I re-read the volumes the more I believe they should have been together.

I want to make a case for Takashi and Haruhi for a few reasons; 

I believe they have silent chemistry throughout the manga. 

They have similar interests and values, making them compatible. 

They have a good understanding of each other that the manga doesn’t really delve into. 

They interact a lot behind the scenes in the manga but we never see those moments, only hear about them afterwards. So they spend more time together than we are aware of.

I’ve noticed a lot of the appeal around this couple is based on pairing the tall host with the small host but their relationship goes much deeper than a fetish. 

By creating this post I am by no means insulting other pairings or the people who ship other pairings. I am just a person who wants to spread more love for TakashixHaruhi into the world. Also, this is purely for fun and shouldn’t be taken too seriously. These are made-up characters, not real people, so to each their own!

Naturally, this series will have spoilers for manga. 

Shall we begin? The post covers Volumes 1-2. Because I am using examples from the manga this case will be broken down into separate posts. Please stay tuned for the following posts!

I will only use examples from the manga for this case because the anime and live-action, though deriving from the manga, have been altered in a few ways and I want to stay true to the story line. 

The Beginning

When Haruhi is first introduced to the Host Club the manga doesn’t give a set timeline of when each host discovered her true gender, only that the other hosts continue calling Haruhi a guy for Tamaki’s sake - because he doesn’t figure it out until the very end of Episode 1. 

When Haruhi is trapped in a deadly Tamaki hug she calls out to Takashi for help. I’m sure she asked for his help only because he was nearest to her but his reaction is what’s interesting. The anime uses this moment to show when Takashi discovers Haruhi is a girl... but again... the manga doesn’t show a clear timeline when each host discovers her real gender. 

I emphasize on the timeline because of this moment right here. 

Let’s say Takashi knew her real gender from the beginning. It would explain why he quickly comes to her rescue without hesitation - or even a glance at Mitsukuni. He wouldn’t allow a lady to suffer an uncomfortable situation. 

I would also say his inappropriate hold on Haruhi could be explained by his lack of experience with handling women. I headcanon Takashi as a person who doesn’t act outside his interests - sort of like Kyoya - but his intentions are purer. Takashi will not lead on a woman if he doesn’t like her. He’s too much of a gentleman to lay his hands on a woman. I’m sure Takashi doesn’t have experience rescuing women from deadly hugs and so his haste actions led him to touch Haruhi’s chest. 

Now, I do believe Takashi knew she was a woman before he rescued her from Tamaki’s hug.

I say that because of this...

Mitsukuni says he knew Haruhi’s real gender the moment he met her. The manga doesn’t really reveal which moment that is; it’s between meeting her at the vase and handing her his bunny. 

However, can we honestly believe that Mitsukuni did not tell his own cousin what he discovered? He wouldn’t have kept such a juicy secret to himself! He must have told Takashi while they were out of frame. Which leads me to believe Takashi also knew from the beginning... thus his rescue becomes more interesting. 

But what about Haruhi? We know that Takashi and Mitsukuni at least find her interesting (it’s still the beginning so I’m sure they’re more curious than in love) but what does Haruhi think about them?

In Episode 1 and 2 she is introduced to the hosts and slowly learns more about them but she isn’t curious to know more about them. In fact, the two people she wants to know more about are...

Takashi and Mitsukuni. 

Takashi’s Distracted

In Episode 2 we see a brief exchange between Takashi and Haruhi that neither the anime or the live action includes. Takashi storms into the Host Club with his battered cousin because he accidentally stepped on him. 

Takashi - the Kendo champion, the man bred to protect and serve the Haninozuka family, the loyal friend who never leaves Mitsukuni out of his sight - wasn’t paying attention long enough to step on Mitsukuni. 

I’ll be the first to say this may be a long stretch but... what if Takashi was distracted because of a certain host maiden? 

By Takashi’s drastic reaction - breaking the door of its hinge and hitting Kanako with said door without noticing - he felt terrible about hurting Mitsukuni. It’s out of character for him. So this begs the question, what has caught Takashi’s attention? 

Haruhi helps bandage Mitsukuni’s wound while Takashi mends the door he broke. When Haruhi announces Mitsukuni will be ok Takashi offers her a smile as his thanks. 

And Haruhi blushes because he smiled. 

Takashi Blushes Over Haruhi 

We mostly see Tamaki, the twins, and occasionally Mitsukuni blushing over Haruhi and her natrual cuteness. But Takashi is also affected by her and he is often blushing alongside his friends. 

Takashi is just as affected by Haruhi but since he’s the silent one who prefers to stand in the very back... he’s either easily overlooked or quickly forgotten. 

Takashi Becomes Protective Over Her

Episode 3 in the manga is Episode 4 in the anime; when Renge is introduced. Remember the scene when Renge provokes two Class-D students to anger for her movie and Haruhi gets hurt because of it? The anime shows Tamaki as her sole savior but the manga adds another person to her rescue...

What makes this scene very interesting to me is the fact that Mitsukuni isn’t shown. The twins are seen sarcastically calling for a teacher to chastise the troublemakers and Kyoya - who infamously breaks the camera - but no Mitsukuni. Either his shortness naturally kept him out of frame or Takashi moved without him. 

If the latter is true... then that means Takashi left Mitsukuni to save Haruhi. 

Here we see him acting protective over Haruhi way before the artificial beach scene - we’ll get to that part. 

The Forgotten Trio

I would like to point out something that I’ve noticed in both manga and anime; Haruhi prefers to sit with Takashi and Mitsukuni if she chooses to join a table. She doesn’t join Tamaki or the twins and the only time she joins Kyoya is to speak to him. 

Why is this important? Because I surmise Haruhi is naturally drawn to the duo. They offer the most peace in the club. Since this isn’t the only time she sits with the cousins I would say she finds solace with them. Tamaki is an obnoxious flirt, the twins are mischievous devils, and Kyoya is a conniving shadow lord... it makes sense Haruhi would prefer the quiet servant and the bubbly martial artist.

Takashi Doesn’t Want Haruhi To Leave 

We all remember the glorious moment when the Host Club was able to convince Haruhi into going along with their plans and remain their secret host maiden. 

But have we forgotten that Takashi was the one to strike the deal?

Takashi didn’t want Haruhi to leave the Host Club - and dare I say leave him - and remembered she still hadn’t tasted giant tuna (mind you, he remembered that from the Christmas party and it is now the spring physical exams). 

And we know that he hit the nail on the head with this because it caught Haruhi’s attention. Our quiet boy pays very good attention to our host maiden, guys!

The Artificial Beach

Probably the most famous interaction between Takashi and Haruhi is when they traveled through Kyoya’s artificial beach together in search of Mitsukuni. Most people like this scene because Takashi calls her by name for the first time and he protects her from armed police. I like this scene for the same reasons but I want to add a few more points I think are interesting.

First off, we see that Takashi is becoming more comfortable around Haruhi. He approaches her when he wants to take a break from Mitsukuni and gratefully accepts her drink (which she already took a sip of, it’s not like she’s offering him a brand new bottle of water). 

When Mitsukuni is swept away by the tide and the group searches for him, Haruhi notices Takashi is acting weird without his cousin. While everyone is focused on finding Mitsukuni, Haruhi is focused on Takashi and how he’s coping. 

That says so much... right there. She notices he’s acting weird and instead of making fun of his clumsiness like the twins or turning a blind eye to his fall, she instead worries about him. 

But she doesn’t silently worry about him. She tries to comfort him. This is the first time in the manga where we see Haruhi trying to comfort someone in pain! And it’s Takashi! 

The anime has him say “you’re right” but in the manga he doesn’t say anything. He just rumples her hair in response. 

Also, the anime doesn’t show her reaction. Here we see how she reacts. 

AND SHE BLUSHES WITH A SMILE! Takashi doesn’t say a word and yet she understands him. She understands all that he is saying in his smile and his small action. And not only does she understand it, she accepts it with a smile and a blush! (I am getting goosebumps just typing this). LOOK AT THEIR SMILES FOR EACH OTHER!

When Takashi wants to wander off into the jungle Haruhi insists on joining him, even fighting the jungle along the way. Haruhi, the lethargic one who would rather stay out of people’s business and not get involved where she doesn’t need to, chases after Takashi into the jungle. She didn’t have to. She could have easily let him wander off and tell Kyoya that they lost Takashi too. 

She was willing to get lost in the jungle with Takashi to make sure he was alright. 

We all remember Haruhi thinking it felt nice to hear Takashi say her name (which will never go unnoticed) but I want to ask... why did he choose that moment to say her name? He’s known her for a few months now and yet he chose that moment to say her name. 

This proves Takashi is becoming very comfortable with Haruhi (also proven with how he picks her up without asking her permission - and she allows it) and his feelings are beginning to make themselves known. 

He sees her trying to comfort him, to keep him company, and to watch him. He sees her doing his job. This probably moved him to act on his feelings rather than his manners. 

When the Black Onion Squad catches up to them, I notice two things; Takashi’s serious face and how Haruhi holds onto him. 

The anime doesn’t show how protective Takashi becomes. The manga shows him becoming her human shield against the armed police. He literally hides her beneath him while he’s fending off the guns. And by his facial expression he will not give up Haruhi without a fight. 

Also... I wonder about something. The Morinozukas and the Haninozukas are known to train bodyguards and personal armies. And with Takashi being Kyoya’s friend for a while now, wouldn’t he have recognized the Black Onion Squad as Kyoya’s men? Wouldn’t he have read a badge or recognize the uniforms? Because remember, the men apologized profusely for hunting down Mitsukuni and confessed to having trained in their dojos. 

Takashi must have known that Haruhi wasn’t in any real danger since it was Kyoya’s personal army... and yet he still refused to give her up. 

Alright, this concludes Part One! Please tell me your thoughts so far. Feel free to agree or disagree. I will admit that most of this evidence is probably stretching really far, but it’s all in the name of fun so I don’t mind. And thank you! MorixHaru shippers, RISE UP!

[theresnosuchthingasmonsters]

(Prompt: “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” with John and Ainsley, sent in by @silvershewolf247​)

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Daddy once told her that there was no such thing as monsters. But that wasn't true. He had been one of them the whole time. Daddy had also told her that if monsters did exist, they would never come hurt her. They wouldn’t dare. Now, she understood why he’d said that. Because daddy had been the monster that the other monsters had nightmares about. Either that, or he had been their king, and they had obeyed him without question.

But with their king gone, she knew it wouldn’t take long for the other monsters to come.

And the monsters did come.

Ainsley could hear every little bump they made in the night. They were not the distant, dampered sounds of her brother getting a midnight snack from the kitchen below, nor the sounds of her parents going to --or returning from-- late night galas or hospital shifts. No, the sounds she heard were the sounds of softly thunking rubber-soled boots. The kind with a deeply-defined waffle pattern on the bottom. The kind that were always some shade of deerskin brown. The kind that smelled good in the stores, at least when they were virgin boots that had never touched the earth which they were meant to grind under their heels.

That night, Ainsley slipped out of bed and wandered downstairs.

She was exhausted of being scared, and she was exhausted of feeling grief and confusion. She was so emotionally worn out that her fear had ebbed into a numbness that consumed her. She felt too hollow to care about her self preservation. She only wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t sleep when those monsters were downstairs, making their distant, gentle, thunk, thunk, thunking noises.

She chose to haul along the biggest and supposedly scariest of her stuffed animals; the one that would keep her the safest in daddy’s absence because it was the most like him. Her biggest, fuzziest brown bear --the one with little white felt teeth that looked like they belonged in the mouth of a stuffed shark.

The girl stood in the hallway, wondering if she should wake Malcolm or mommy and inform them of the monsters downstairs so they could handle the situation. The thought caused her guilt. She knew they both had had trouble sleeping lately, too. She felt that she herself had to be the one to deal with the monsters that night. She had to be strong, like her parents had always told her to be. Strong, and brave, like Malcolm always seemed to be.

She took her time down the stairs, sliding one hand along the banister in the dark. She silently waddled towards the main floor of the large house with big, slow, careful steps as she imprisoned her bear against her chest in a one-armed hold. She was careful not to trip on his dangling paws.

Ainsley stopped on the stairs as the kitchen came into view, deep and black and cavernous. A shadow shifted, spotting her, and as the child’s eyes slowly adjusted to the night, she saw that it was not a monster. It was a man.

They didn't speak. They both remained very still, and simply stared at each other. The child didn't scream. She wasn’t scared. She was only numb, and tired.

She couldn’t see the man’s face; only his frame. He was outlined in a vague silhouette, backed by a hue of the kitchen that was more blue than black. She noticed that he had a beard and wild hair like daddy’s before it was combed. But he was not daddy. Even in the dark, and even while relying on sleep-deprived eyes, she could tell that he was someone else. Someone new. Yet someone just similar enough to her father that it made her think of him, and wish it was him.

Her lifeless expression animated only enough to distort with homesickness, and she saw the stranger in her kitchen as little more than a ghost. Not a monster. A ghost of her father. A shadow that he’d left behind. A part of him that the light did not touch. A part of him that had never revealed itself, until now.

A part of him she’d never met before.

At the time, Ainsley didn’t understand that human beings could be monsters, sometimes. She didn’t understand why they called her father one, even though he didn’t look like or act like one. She would later learn that her father was a monster, on the inside, and that this visitor was also a monster, on the inside. Just not the kind of monster that was born from cluttered closets or crept beneath the floorboards.

Except, in this man’s case... maybe he was that kind of monster, too.

“Who are you?” she mumbled, breaking their brief silence.

The man didn’t answer her at first, frozen with caution. He split his attention between the child, the higher reaches of the staircase, and the nearby door leading to the basement. With a whispered rasp, he replied, “A friend.”

“What are you doing in our house?” the girl mumbled with innocent, lethargic curiosity.

The man hesitated again. “I’m… picking up a few things,” he explained carefully. “For your dad. That’s all.” His voice possessed a rugged, grinding quality, like gravel, but was also somehow smooth, like silt.

He was daddy’s friend. Ainsley processed that for a moment, removing her hand from the banister to hug her stuffed bear with both arms. “Don’t come upstairs,” she told him. Her despondent demand was a simple one.

He would obey it, on one condition. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here.” As he made his negotiation, he tilted his head and his voice lightened --like how daddy’s head tilted and like how daddy’s voice lightened when he gently told her not to let her mother know he’d allowed her to have a cookie before dinner. “Okay? It’s a secret.”

Ainsley’s baby cheeks shifted as she struggled to swallow around a small lump that gradually welled in her throat.

“Your mom would be pretty mad if she knew I was here,” the man warned, taking a slow step closer. His boot gently thunked, once.

The six-year-old promised him nothing. She looked at his hanging hands, seeing that they were empty. “What are you picking up for dad?” she asked. Was the man lying, or was he having trouble finding whatever it was that daddy wanted him to pick up?

“Just… some papers,” the man shrugged, taking another step with a gentle thunk of his boot. “Whatever the cops didn’t take.”

“Mommy burned everything.”

The man ceased his stalking. “What?”

“She burned everything the cops didn’t take,” Ainsley muttered with a pout. All of daddy’s clothes, and all of daddy’s books, and all his little trinkets, and all of the sketches and comic strips that he’d drawn for her.

“Oh.” The man visibly relaxed. A lot. “Well. Good.” 

A distant confusion crossed the girl’s face. Why was that good?

The man became much more interested in the basement door than the stairs, and he stepped towards it with a few more quiet thunks of his boots. This time, he moved without caution, but perhaps instead with haste. “I’ll be going, then.”

“Will you tell daddy I said hi?”

He stopped and glanced back. “Yeah. Sure.” He continued for the basement door, reaching out to pull it open.

Feeling a flash of panic --the first thing she’d felt since the numbness began-- Ainsley hurried down the last few stairs to the main floor and spoke up again. However, her voice quivered, and she hugged her bear tighter to try and stabilize her emotions. “And --will you tell daddy I’m not mad at him?”

The man hovered in the open doorway to the basement and looked at the child again.

Ainsley felt the lump in her throat swelling to its full size, and her eyes were already beading with moisture. “Will you tell daddy --I --miss him?” She grimaced and strangled the stuffed bear in her embrace, inhaling sharply through her words as the sobs came. “And --and that I want him to come --h-home?”

The man stared at her from the shadows as she succumbed to tears.

A rather loud hiccup of sorrow spurred him to rush over to the girl, glancing at the staircase as he hushed, “Heyhey shhhh, shh shh,” with his arms outstretched, aiming to grab her shoulders. She thought about burying her face in the fur of her bear to hide her crying, but as he descended to his knees in front of her, she found herself lunging forward and darting straight past his hands to bury her face in the fabric over his shoulder.

He didn’t really know how to react or respond, but he kept his focus on the stairs and placed a hand on the back of her head to keep her face pressed against his collar and muffle her crying. “Shhh, shhh.”

The man was wearing a sweater, but not the winter kind that were thick and wooly like daddy’s favorite sweaters. This man’s sweater was more of an autumn one. Light, and simple. Akin to what a man might wear as a pajama top. It had tiny weaves that were tightly-knitted and canvas-like. Hugging him didn’t feel like hugging daddy. His shoulders had less surface area to rest her head against, and his body was more firm than squishy. But he was still big and tough and warm and produced the faded scent of a forest.

His shushes worked, and she sniffled into a calmer state of crying.

She peeled away from the puddle she’d created on his shoulder to wipe her eyes. Between each pass of her balled fist, she saw his face. She studied the tangle of the soft, wiry hairs in his beard and the slight squint of his eyes, which were only just starting to grow crow’s feet.

“It’s alright.” The man held her shoulders tightly and nodded with a small murmur, “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” He rubbed her whole back with a strong hand that could push her right over if he applied any more force. It was soothing to her, like a deep massage. “You want some water or somethin’?”

Ainsley shook her head and wrestled around the lump in her throat to mutter, “I want cocoa.”

“Cocoa, huh?”

She nodded.

He glanced up to the second floor again before standing. “Okay. Alright. Come here.” He guided her to a spot in the kitchen, continuing to speak hushed words to her between throwing cautious looks behind his back. “You stay right there, and you hold onto your bear, and I’ll get you some cocoa.” He glanced at all the cupboards and did a double take at the knife block before scratching a hand through his loose, wavy hair.

Ainsley pointed out which cupboard had the cocoa powder. The man quietly and carefully fetched it, and a mug, and shoveled a couple spoonfuls of powder into the mug before moving towards the refrigerator. The child would have told him that he was doing it wrong (you always boil the milk first, then add the powder) but she forgave him for not doing it right, like how daddy did.

A broad, harsh ray of light poured over the man with a nearly holy-like nature as he opened the door of the fridge. He knelt behind it as cover, fetching the milk and making as little noise as possible. Behind the door of the fridge, he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out a special ingredient to add to the concoction.

Ainsley climbed onto a stool at the counter, slightly scraping it against the floor as she did so. It startled the man, and he shushed her again. She sat her bear on her lap and watched him stir the cocoa with a coffee stick. “Is daddy okay?” she whispered, hugging her bear tight.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” the man muttered without interest or concern, quietly placing the mug of half-mixed, cold cocoa in front of her. He kept looking up at the stairs between watching her. “Drink up.”

She used both hands to hold the mug as she drank from it, and tried not to feel too disheartened that the beverage wasn’t warm and creamy like the kind daddy always made. “Is he sad?” she asked with a chocolate mustache.

The man didn’t tell her ‘no,’ so the answer was clearly, ‘yes.’ But he wasn't sorry about it. “It’s his own fuckin’ fault he’s in prison,” he grumbled, explaining, “He wasn't careful, and he didn’t listen.”

Ainsley whispered between two more large sips. “That’s a bad word.”

The man kept his mouth shut and didn’t say any more bad --or worse-- words.

She wasn’t incredibly enthusiastic about drinking the rest of the subpar cocoa, and when she pushed the mug back towards him and told him that she was done, he took it and dumped the rest in the sink without scolding her for failing to finish it. She didn’t have to finish it. She’d consumed enough.

“Now, go back up to bed,” he instructed, pointing to send her away. “Hurry, before you fall asleep.”

Looking forward to being able to sleep again, she clumsily made her way down the stool and back toward the stairs. Partway there, she realized she’d dropped her bear, and turned back for it. The man had already scooped it up and was carrying it over to her, still cautious of the stairs as he drew closer to them. “Go on, get up there.”

She took her bear from his hands and hugged it tightly before waddling up the stairs one step at a time, holding onto the banister again. He didn’t follow her. He gravitated towards the basement door. When she was halfway up the stairs, she turned around and asked, “Are you going to come back?”

Her voice made him stop again, but he struggled to decide how to answer her.

“Please?” she whispered. Her look reminded him that he had vowed to take care of her.

“Yeah. I’ll be back,” he promised. “Go to bed.”

The girl continued up the stairs, her steps more sluggish. As Ainsley went in her room and climbed into her bed, she heard the steady thunk, thunk, thunk of his distant boots in the rooms below her. The sounds gradually faded away, and she easily slipped into a deep, peaceful, sedative sleep, no longer afraid of any monsters that may come for her in the night.

The monsters would not come. 

They wouldn’t dare.

Daddy had sent a guardian angel to keep her safe and to take care of her in his absence.

----

I hope you enjoyed it @silvershewolf247​! Want me to write a short scene? Send me a prompt with a pair of characters! Check out my #starter and #prompt tags for more ideas and responses!

[strangershield]

The Impostor

Pairings: Platonic Daisy x Fem! Reader

Request: 

could you write something for daisy during the recent season?

would you mind writing a platonic Daisy Johnson x SHIELD agent fem reader where Daisy and the reader were best friends, almost like sisters, and when the reader died on a mission post season 5 Daisy was devastated? Then around season 6 the reader comes back but is completely different because she was reborn on an alien planet and has never met the team and Daisy is struggling to cope with that?

Warnings: season 6 spoilers, death, memory loss, kinda sad near the end

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She noticed her blank eyes first. The vast black, void of colour and emotion, that glazed her eyes like a film. Daisy’s own eyes glassed over as the world around her became a distant memory, foggy and muffled as if she was underwater. Yet she was at the SHIELD base, surrounded by her friends and her impostor of a best friend. The air in the room, once alive with electricity, had settled to a dull static.

“Daisy, what’s wrong?”

Jemma’s voice rose from the corners of Daisy’s conscious as the scientist began to step forward. Only then did Daisy realize that she was frozen, staring into (Y/N)’s eyes whilst holding her at an arm’s length.

“Daisy?”

She snapped back to reality, to time, with a sharp jolt. A dull thud echoed as she stepped back from (Y/N)’s body, her ankle rolling in the process. Thankfully May was near, catching Daisy as she fell for she was too in shock to react to her small stumble. Daisy crumbled in May’s warmth, indulging in her familiarity. The second of the pair stood rigid, holding her friend who had grown doll-like, unable to move. Small clicks and thuds bounced from the concrete floor as the others moved to watch Daisy. Their eyes flickered towards (Y/N), a gaze once consumed with joy now littered with apprehension.

“Daisy?” May asked again, staring anxiously through stern brows.

“It’s not her.” Daisy whispered hoarsely.

The others looked at the girl in question, confused.

“It’s not her.”

-

-

Everyone seemed to be pacing but Daisy. The now blonde had thrown herself (quite dramatically) upon the black sofa that occupied the break room as the others bombarded her with questions or theories. She either responded with a sound or let it fly over her head, for she was too emotionally drained to think properly.

The others were less enthusiastic about her lethargic state. Fitzsimmons bounced theories off of each other, varying from alien planets to a long lost twin. Deke occasionally injected his own thoughts, but mainly stayed glued to his phone as he tried to find any articles or social media posts surrounding (Y/N). May paced in front of Daisy while she waited for Coulson’s return. Paced seemed like an understatement, marching in a repetitive motion as she fired question after question.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Eh?”

“Daisy, I need you to-“

“I don’t know May!”

Daisy yelled, violently standing up in one swift motion. The room grew eerie quiet as everyone watched Daisy in awe, who was a completely different woman to the lifeless body that lay on the couch only seconds ago. May didn’t flitch, but she didn’t react either.

“I don’t...know.”

Just as quickly as she’d switched, Daisy had reverted back to her state of numbness and confusion. She felt like collapsing, the weight of her own body too much to bare as her throat closed over. Because she did know when she last saw (Y/N). It was hard to forget the day her best friend died.

May took a definitive step forward and placed an arm on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“We’ll figure this out, okay?” She said lowly, although everyone heard in the room’s absence of noise. “In the mean time, you need to get a grip.”

“First you hold me up, which is basically a hug, and now an arm squeeze with a threat. What’s gotten into you today?”

“It’s not a threat.” May smirked, glad to see some of the old Daisy peaking through the girl’s damaged state.

Before Daisy could reply, the doors flew open to reveal Coulson and two guests.

“Coulson already filled us in.” Yo-Yo revealed as the three stepped into the room. She went straight to May, the pair immediately breaking out in a conversation of hushed tones, as Mack made his way over to Daisy. They didn’t speak, he only consumed her in one of Mack’s rare but legendary hugs. Daisy let out a sigh, burying her head in Mack’s warmth and familiar scent.

“You okay, Tremors?” He whispered, muffled as his cheek lay against her head.

Daisy didn’t reply, she couldn’t lie to Mack. He would see through her facade, and they were too good of friends to not be completely honest with each other, even when the truth hurt. Time stopped as Daisy listened to the soothing, steady beat of Mack’s heart, wanting to indulge in this moment of warmth and security forever. Unfortunately, she had demons to face.

“What’s the latest?” May asked, finishing her secretive chat with Yo-Yo.

Daisy reluctantly pulled away from Mack to face Coulson, yet he never left her side. Coulson quickly scanned Daisy’s face before addressing everyone, concerned about her wellbeing and overall stability.

“Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your angle, Daisy was right. This isn’t our (Y/N).”

Daisy was punched in the stomach by an invisible force, completely winded. Whilst she saw it coming, the truth was still a bitch. A part of her had hoped that she was wrong, that it really was (Y/N). It was stupid, wishful thinking.

Everyone else seemed to be just as blindsided. Fitz buried his head in his hands as Jemma pressed her forehead to his back, the pair relying on each other for strength and support. Deke almost threw his phone but decided against the frenzied action, instead letting out a deep sigh and glaring at the floor. (Y/N) was apart of the team, so it was a low blow. Even May looked devastated, staring at any object or surface that wasn’t another human being.

“Did she speak?” Daisy wheezed out, staring directly at Coulson.

“Not much, but a little. She seemed pretty disorientated.”

Daisy stared at Coulson for a moment before she let out an incredulous, bitter laugh.

“You think she’s disorientated? That she doesn’t know where or who she is? She freaking stole (Y/N)’s face and is acting as some impostor.”

“Daisy-“ Mack began to warn.

“No, she’s not stupid or innocent. She’s not the victim. Why else would she come here of all places. Why the lighthouse, our secret base?”

Coulson stared blankly at Daisy, letting the silence fuel his thoughts.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know. I’m still trying to fill in the blanks myself. But Daisy, let’s not villianise anyone yet.”

Daisy scoffed, pulling away from Mack to gain some personal space. The whole situation make her skin crawl.

“I may have a theory.” Jemma offered, her eyes flickering across the room to gage the reaction. Coulson shrugged and spread his hands.

“The room’s yours.”

“Where (Y/N) materialized from remains a mystery. My best bet is still an alternate dimension, an alien planet or some kind of clone. But I think she must have some memories, or at least feelings of familiarity. It would explain why she came here, to us. She may recognize us even if we’re strangers to her.”

“So you think she is attached to our (Y/N)?” May asked, knowing they were treading in dangerous waters.

“Perhaps,” Jemma answered hesitantly, “but I don’t want to imply too much with the little knowledge we have.”

“It fits with the doppelgänger and clone theory, being able to recognize the original owner or host’s thoughts.” Fitz offered, trying desperately to think of a reasonably explanation.

“We’re sure it’s not A.I?” Mack asked cautiously.

“Definitely, or at least 98%. It’s very advanced tech if it is an A.I.”

“It’s not A.I.” Daisy declared, surprising everyone with her sudden input. She became the new subject of interest, eyes fixated upon her.

“I looked at her. I spoke to her. It’s not A.I tech, but it’s also not (Y/N).”

“Daisy, are you-“ Jemma started softly, eyebrows creasing together as she looked at her friend.

“I know I have an emotional link to this but I know it’s not her. I know, Jemma.”

Jemma only offered a small smile of concern laced with sympathy before she turned back to Fitz.

The room became alive once more, a flurry of voices with no real answers or solutions. Only Daisy remained silent, trying to think logically about the vessel that looked like her best friend. It still didn’t seem real. Maybe that was her problem.

“Let me talk to her.”

Silence.

Everyone stopped and stared at Daisy once more.

Then the protests began.

Everyone disagreed, considering her request detrimental to her wellbeing...and (Y/N)’s. There were still so many unanswered questions and questions to still be thought of. It was irrational, unreasonable, dangerous. Those were Daisy’s favourite conditions.

“Please, I need to see her for myself again. Let me talk to her.”

She locked eyes with Coulson, knowing he would understand. Luckily, he knew her well. He nodded grimly, taking a breath before announcing his decision.

“You get ten minutes.”

-

-

(Y/N) wasn’t kept in a cell, she wasn’t a criminal. But she was a potential threat, an unknown case yet to be explained. Hence, the containment module seemed to be the safest place. Daisy looked into the room through the door’s small window, her whole body alive with chills. She couldn’t see (Y/N), not from this angle, but the white hexagon walls did enough to make her nauseous. Too much had happened in this room, to her and to others. And now a whole new memory was about to made, for better or for worse.

Taking a silent breath, Daisy set her neutral interrogation face and opened the door. She walked in steadily, finding (Y/N) sitting upright on the crisp, white bed. Looking at her again, Daisy’s breath was taken away. Same colour hair, same blemishes on her face, same eye colour. Yeah something was off. Her posture was too rigid, too robotic. Daisy kept her distance.

“Hi, I’m Agent Johnson. We met earlier.”

Daisy clasped her hands in front of her, voice void of emotion. When the stranger didn’t respond, Daisy continued.

“Do you have a name?”

“(Y/N).”

Daisy’s heart fluttered. The room started to spin as she comprehended what just happened. That was her voice. She has her name.

“Where are you from?” Daisy asked clumsily. She couldn’t call her (Y/N). Not yet.

The girl didn’t reply, and Daisy wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She let the silence continue for a moment longer before she tried again, becoming desperate for answers. Precious time was also ticking away.

“Are you from Earth? Another planet? Another galaxy?”

(Y/N) remained still, emotionless. It was a harrowing sight.

“I don’t know.” She finally answered. Something changed, and suddenly she was staring at Daisy with wide eyes.

“I don’t know.” Her voice has changed, from sterile and robotic to panicked and urgent. The blood in Daisy’s veins ran cold, her body acting on instinct and taking a step backwards.

(Y/N) was staring at her, piercing holes through Daisy with her eyes. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it was a plea for help.

“It’s...it’s okay.” Daisy stammered after she regained some awareness, trying to ease (Y/N)’s mind. The girl’s eyes screwed shut as she shook her head.

“No, no it’s not. I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Daisy asked, trying a different angle.

She watched as the other woman searched her mind for an answer.

“I know my name. I know I woke up in dust, and only one thing was clear: you. I knew I had to find you.”

Daisy felt like she might internally combust. She was trying to keep her walls up, to remain indifferent to this stranger. But it was (Y/N). She had (Y/N)’s face. She had her voice. And now that it was clear that (Y/N)’s motivation was Daisy herself? Her walls began to crumble.

Digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand, Daisy took a step forward and lowered her voice, engaging in a new kind of intimacy.

“How did you get here?” She whispered.

(Y/N) wouldn’t look at Daisy, only at the floor or the opposite wall. Daisy’s heart sank.

“I found a ship, a plane, whatever you call it. It wasn’t easy.” Her voice was brittle and unwelcoming to any further questions. Daisy understood. After all, she had done some questionable things in her own past, and (Y/N), her (Y/N), had never judged her.

Before Daisy could reply, the door opened.

She swore under her breath as Coulson and May entered the room slowly. Daisy’s mind went haywire. She needed more time, she was getting through to (Y/N).

“Daisy, it’s been-“

“No. Coulson, I’m sorry, but she’s talking.”

“This isn’t up for a discussion.”

“Did you not hear me? She’s talking!”

“Daisy, calm down.” May warned as Daisy’s heart rate rose rapidly.

Why couldn’t they see that she just needed time? She clenched and unclenched her fists as she looked from Coulson and May to (Y/N).

She needed more time.

“Please.” She whispered in a hoarse whisper.

The room stood still. Eventually, Coulson stepped forward and placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, light and without force.

“Maybe after some lunch, okay?”

She visibly collapsed in on herself in defeat. There was no point making a scene and arguing, she was outnumbered and might remove herself from (Y/N) for good. She had one last look at (Y/N), sitting quietly with hidden eyes on the bed, before she left with May and Coulson by her side. She would be back. She had to come back. (Y/N) was counting on her.

-

-

In a cruel yet expected twist of fate, (Y/N) wasn’t (Y/N).

They all saw it coming, even Daisy. Yet the truth is a mysterious, often painful force of nature that will always prevail. For Daisy, the pain was worse than being shot in the stomach and being on the brink of death (which had happened before). She had lost so many people: Ward, her parents, Lincoln. Now (Y/N) was added to her list of ghosts, twice in fact. Losing her the second time was almost as worse as the first. Almost.  

The silver chain gleamed in the warm light as Daisy sat on her bed, twirling the necklace in her hand. Her fingertips traced the cool metal, from each individual link to the paper airplane chain that dangled at one end. She watched as the tip of her index finger became misshapen as she pressed it further into the blunt point of the chain when someone knocked at her door. She muttered some form of approval, too mesmerized by the necklace to look up or open the door herself.

Jemma entered quietly, closing the door behind her with a soft and polite thud. She was fiddling with her own piece of jewelry, the ring on her finger twirling endless circles as the scientist gave Daisy a warm smile.

“How are you?”

Daisy let the question fly over her head. It was something she had been asked for weeks but couldn’t answer honestly. How could she? It felt like her insides had been quaked apart and stitched back together.

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask.” Jemma apologized immediately, her eyebrows creasing together as she spoke.

Daisy sighed and finally brought her gaze up to Jemma, still holding the necklace.

“It’s okay Jemma, you’re...okay. I’m kind of glad it’s you and not Mack for a change.”

“He’s still trying to get you to open up?” Jemma laughed.

“Oh yeah.”

Jemma rolled her eyes playfully, Daisy even managing half a smile. The moment died quickly, reality setting in.

“What, um...what do you want?” Daisy asked, blunt but honest.

Jemma slowly crossed the room and sat next to Daisy as she replied, trying to create a space of warmth and comfort.

“Well, I’m not here to be your therapist, but I thought I could lend you some advice.”

She waited to see if Daisy would refute or reject her offer. She didn’t.

The two sat arm to arm on the edge of Daisy’s bed as Jemma wondered how to begin. The dated yellow light from above bathed them in unique shadows and faded golden rays, lightening their faces but darkening their eyes and the hollows of their cheeks.

“I’ve lost Fitz a number of times now. We all know about the classic Fitzsimmons curse,” she nudged Daisy’s arm for comedic effect, trying to lighten the dreary mood. “But last time felt different. We weren’t lost in time or space or an alternate reality. I actually lost him. For good. And it...it was-“ her voice broke, tears suddenly forming in her eyes.

Jemma’s heart was large but scarred and bleeding. Some things she could never truly recover from, like Fitz’s death. The others never saw her break down, she maintained a facade and kept consumed in her work. But with Daisy, Jemma could be her unapologetic self. It was the beauty of friendship.

Daisy’s heart sunk for her friend as she leant across and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight.

“I’m so sorry, I’m meant to be helping you not becoming a blubbering mess myself.” The two laughed somberly as Jemma began the wipe her tears away with the palm of her hand. She took a deep breath before continuing, voice slightly shaky.

“Losing Fitz was awful. It sucked. And realizing I could get him back...well, that changed everything. I could have my Fitz back, no strings or A.I attached. But I was scared. Scared it wouldn’t be him, that it wouldn’t work and he’d be a stranger. And, yes, he did miss our wedding and a few other key events, but he’s still my Fitz.”

Now it was Jemma’s turn to squeeze Daisy’s hand.

“Daisy, we all went through the Coulson saga, but I know what it’s like to actually lose and regain someone. I know. I understand your pain. And I’m here for you.”

Daisy’s knuckles whitened as she gripped onto Jemma’s hand as if it were life support. Her throat was tight and dry, so it took her a moment to speak.

“I...Jemma, I miss her.”

Something inside Daisy snapped.

She felt her heart break under the weight of losing (Y/N), twice. Jemma was quick to maneuver herself to cradle Daisy in her arms, returning the favor of comforting a friend with a broken heart. Daisy couldn’t breath, her chest heaving and aching with each sob. As she cried in Jemma’s arms, her mind replayed her final moments with (Y/N), the real (Y/N). She didn’t know if it made it better or worse, but there was no controlling her mind. The memories was all she had now, any glimmer of hope for a revival gone after the impostor incident. So Daisy sat with Jemma and did something she had banned herself from doing: she grieved.

-

-

“Daisy, I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that!”

Every machine in the room was beeping, no matter how small or irrelevant. Agents ran behind Daisy in sync with the symphony of beeps as she surveyed the spread of maps, coordinates and vitals in front of her. It wasn’t good. (Y/N) and her co-pilot had lost an engine and were descending rapidly. Daisy was trying to think of a solution desperately, but time was flowing like water and everyone knew that the odds were not good.

Daisy’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden and violent swoosh that came from (Y/N)’s end of the coms. Her stomach flipped.

“(Y/N), what was that?”

Silence.

“Oh god you better be alive. (Y/N) I swear-“

“I’m sorry I’m here! I’m here! I’m alive! Just a bit preoccupied by my crashing jet.”

In any other scenario Daisy would have laughed at her witty sarcasm. It wasn’t appropriate now.

Daisy breathed a sigh of relief yet still felt nauseous as if she was on the spinning, falling jet.

“Okay, well what was that?”

“I may have given Bailey the spare parachute.”

“You what now?” Daisy was consumed by rage and fear. “This is no time to be a hero, (Y/N). Your life is at stake.”

“I’m stuck!”

To Daisy, the room fell silent even though there were dozens of conversations happening in the room. It was only her and (Y/N).

She heard her friend conceal a sob in the disguise of a shaky breath, and Daisy felt like screaming in angst. She couldn’t do anything, and her friend was about to die.

“When our engine got taken out the front got damaged. My seat’s stuck, it won’t eject. My legs don’t look too good either, especially my left one. I think it’s crushed from where the side of the jet collapsed after impact.”

(Y/N)‘s voice was calm but far from fearless. She was panicking, and so was Daisy.

She only had seconds until impact, and both women hated how hopeless they were.

“Daisy, tell me something good.”

“(Y/N)-“

“Daisy please. Please distract me.”

Her plea broke through to Daisy, and she knew what she had to do. Pushing her own grief aside, Daisy focused on (Y/N)’s voice and not the flashing red numbers in front of her. She even smiled to sound more genuine.

“So you know how we brought Deke back from space?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Yeah, and he has a total crush on you. Why are we talking about him right now?”

“Well, did you know he filled my bed with lemons to express his love for me?”

“You’re kidding”.

“Unfortunately no. It reminded me of summer camp-“

“With Jason Higgins! Oh my god, that kid had it bad for me.”

Daisy laughed at the memory, her eyes filling with tears. (Y/N)’s breathing was intensifying as the ground grew closer and closer.

“He gave you an apple everyday.” Daisy continued, trying to distract her.

“Yeah, a Granny Smith which I hated. So on the last day of camp and I stole his beloved toy car and a black marker and wrote-“

Static.

Silence.

“(Y/N)?”

More silence.

Daisy screamed.