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surprisingmarch · 2 months

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Welcome to Patience: Gifts? (Chapter 3)

Joseph Rainier x F!Human Reader x Harry Vanderspeigle Rating: 16+

Fandom: Resident Alien

Story Type: Fluff / Thriller / Romance / Drama

5,596 Words

-Y/N = Your name- -L/N = Last name-

Music I listened to as I wrote: -"H.S / Tom Cardy"

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Slowly, you unload your various fridge and pantry items into their designated places, occasionally struggling to find room in your fridge to shove your food into. Joseph ended up convincing you to buy WAY too much food with the money Harry gave you. In his words, "It's good to be prepared and to have everything you could possibly want at your disposal." On the bright side, you won't need groceries for weeks, on the downside, you're going to have to store some things in his fridge… which he offered as he shoved more meat into your basket. You actually ended up getting a second basket from Joseph with things he thought you would like, he just randomly disappeared for several minutes as you perused and you figured he forgot something, but then he came back with a basket piled mountain high with a giant smile on his face and at that point you knew instantly it was for you.

You should have suspected considering before he left he asked if you have any food allergies. Your puppy like friend ended up carrying half of your groceries for you as you both walked home.. he is awfully sweet. He warms your heart with his goofiness.You can't stop thinking about Harry, why on earth did he have so much money on him? Is he doing something illegal or is he just paid really well? You wouldn't care if he was doing something illegal, you just don't want him to get hurt. You highly doubt as a small town doctor he's making that much, but he is from New York, so maybe he has a lot saved up from when he worked there that he's blowing. Either way, you're deeply bothered by the fact you have like 300 dollars of Harry's savings, it was thoughtful but also pretty careless to just throw several hundreds at someone you just met then rush out… You're planning on returning the money the next time you see him.

You hear a string of very loud knocks on your apartment door, you rush over to the door expecting to see Joseph, only to be met with the very man you were just thinking of, Harry. He's holding various gift bags of things, you can see a lamp poking through one, and some kind of… pig in another? "You got the job." Harry informs you as he slides past you and carefully sets all the bags onto the floor. "I got you some things for your new home… I put them into gift bags so it would be like Christmas." Harry chuckles. You look down at the array of brightly colored bags sitting around on the floor. "Thank you Harry… that's very sweet.. Oh! Before I forget.." You say as you pull out the three hundred or so dollars you owe Harry. "I do not need that.. I have plenty at home. You keep it… consider it a…" Harry looks to the side in thought before looking back down at you. "Late birthday present." Harry finished.

Knowing that Harry will most likely make you keep the money even if you insist on him taking it back, you give up and shove the money back down into your pocket. "Thank you Harry… that's awfully sweet.. And oh my goodness.. that's so many gifts.. It must have cost so much.." You quietly say as you look around at the many bags on the floor with a hand on your cheek. "And they are all for me..?" You ask quietly, still completely awestruck by the sudden kind surprise. "I have just the thing for that.." Harry rushes over to one of the bags, this one being bright blue, and pulls out a giant piggy bank. "And of course they are all for you. Who else do you see around here… A ghost?" Harry says sarcastically as he looks around your apartment and gestures widely to the large empty space. You giggle at him. "Yeah I guess your right.." You respond. Harry walks back over to you and carefully hands you the piggy bank. He's so gentle when it comes to touching you or handing you things, almost like he's afraid he's going to break you. "I saw it and thought of you.. you remind me of something innocent.. like a piglet. Also no, it did not cost too much, I assure you, I have plenty of money to spare. Spare me your guilt, you deserve gifts." Harry says softly.

It's very cute.. just like any ol' piggy bank but MASSIVE.. and it has cute blushing cheeks. "Thank you Harry.." You say as you feel your heart turn to mush. "Any time." Harry responds calmly. "Oh!" You exclaim, you almost forgot to put your money into it. You pull out your newly "earned" three hundred dollars and shove it into the bank. "It's so cute Harry… Thank you!" You smile brightly, you're genuinely almost brought to tears by all the kind gestures these two dumb dumbs are making. You've never had anyone go this far out of their way for you.. which sounds sad now that you think about it. Tears start to weld in your eyes but you push them back down as you sit in the floor with your legs crossed in front of your various gifts and start to dig. You start to pull out some things from the bags, honestly you think this is better than any Christmas you've ever had because instead of it being expected and obligated, these gifts all came from the heart of a guy you just met. It just feels so much more genuine, he didn't have to do all this, but he did. And that shows a lot about his character.

"What's cute?" You hear Joseph ask to your right, you look over and see Joseph standing in the still very much wide open entrance. He has some sort of dirty towel shoved in his front pocket that's half way hanging out. Harry quietly grumbles something under his breath and a loud growl can be heard underneath that, some how even further proving he's not human. You thought there was no way to further prove it, but no, turns out there's many more ways to do so. Now the only question is, what is he? "Come on in, you vampire. What? Do you need to be invited to enter someone else's space?" You playfully interrogate. "No.." Joseph replies timidly as he swings in and out of the doorway before finally coming in and glaring at all the gifts on the floor. "Please don't tell me that's all from Harry.. If it is, I'm going to have to up my game." Joseph declares some what determinedly. "I'm afraid it is.." You answer sassily. Joseph glares down at you, very much implying a warning, before looking over at Harry. "Please do not "up your game". There is no need for uping your game." Harry quickly pleads. "But you're stealing my girl away." Joseph says quietly, his voice is practically a hush, and there's this undeniable danger lying underneath it.

"YOUR GIRL!?!?" Harry shouts. "Oh? Your girl? We haven't even had our first date yet.." You playfully respond. You continue to look through all your items for a moment before you feel a sense of danger coming from your right. A chill surges down your spine, you look back up at Joseph who is staring at you quite hungerly. "Actually.. that's why I came over here. I'm making us dinner right now and I won't take no for an answer. And based on the fact you have no job and all you were planning on doing today was grocery shop and look for one.. and you're done grocery shopping…" Joseph squats down next to you, never breaking eye contact. "Actually she does have a job.. You start tomorrow at 9 o'clock exactly, by the way. I probably should have told you that earlier.. Oh well. There is no need for her to have-" Harry gets cut off by you. "Nu uh uh.. I said both of you get to get me a part time job so there would be no fighting." You remind him. Harry frowns and grumbles. You look back at Joseph who is still staring at you, seemingly not even acknowledging Harry's presence.

He leans in closer to you. "And you've been guaranteed two jobs.. you have the whole day free… with nothing to do.." Joseph gets right next to your ear. You start to feel your face get hot, you hear Harry protesting in the background but can't make out what he's saying due to your flusteredness. "I think you can spare a few hours for me.. can't you? My dear Y/N." Joseph whispers. You nod slightly in response, Joseph purposely blows a bit of air into your ear, causing you to get chills. Your face flushes bright red, damn, you weren't expecting him to be this forward. You wanted to tease and annoy him a bit more before the date "That's it! We are having a talk!" Harry announces as he grabs one of Joseph's legs from under him, pulling him towards the door. Joseph falls forward and lands right into your chest, he flushes bright red and you some how blush even deeper than you already were, but there's no time to acknowledge the situation at hand or for him to even start to apologize as Harry continues to quickly drag him all the way across the hall to his apartment, Joseph protests the whole way there and you can hear him still protesting through the door as Harry slams it shut and locks it.

The two of them are now in there together.. completely alone… you're sure that won't go terribly wrong. Funny enough, Harry seemingly didn't even notice the incident he just caused as he was facing forward the whole time. You're sure he'll have a fit once he finds out, if he ever does. You can see it now, you chuckle to yourself. You know there's probably going to be a cat fight and try to think of a way to get in but you can't since you have no key and you definitely heard the door lock. You start to hesitantly continue looking through your bags, pulling one of the last items out, a beautiful ceramic orange tabby cat, it's just sitting there, being an absolute delight. Harry really nailed all these gifts, you love each and every one of them. They seem to have a theme too, cute animals or very tasteful table pieces, such as the Dale Tiffany blue butterfly lamp. You think it's kind of sweet that he got you a purple unicorn pillow pet, maybe he thought you were lonely up here by yourself. Suddenly, you hear the door unlock, you quickly look over and see Harry storming out of Joseph's apartment with a black eye, mumbling swears quietly under his breath as he stomps down the stairs and out of sight.

That was way too fast for an entire fight to happen, it's only been like a minute at most! It's been just enough time for you to pull out a kitty from the last bag! Not to mention you didn't hear any punches being thrown or anything break or anyone walk or really move at all, you're pretty sure you would hear their loud footsteps, they are absolute units. You look back at Joseph's open doorway, Joseph walks out of his apartment, slamming the door behind him, and starts to walk over to your apartment. He wipes some blood from his mouth, he also has a black eye on the opposite side as Harry. Once Joseph is inside your place he quietly shuts your door then turns around and smiles brightly, his blood stained teeth on full display. It's deeply disturbing to see someone who normally has pristine white teeth with red ones.

"Okay! Now that that's out of the way, how are your gifts?" Joseph asks, he's clearly trying to act like that didn't happen and brush it off. "What-" You try to ask what the fuck happened and how a whole fight broke out in less than a minute but he quickly interjects before you can even get the second word out. "Oh! The food!!" He blurts as he rushes out of your apartment, leaving the door wide open to both yours and his apartment once more. You throw your hands up in the air in frustration and slowly stand, letting the blood rush back to your brain. You have a nice big stretch and that spot in your back that always pops, pops. You sigh in relief. "Come on! The food is almost done!" You look over and see Joseph's head peeking out of his apartment, after a moment of eye contact he retracts and disappears into his domain. "Coming, just… hold on..!" You yell back. You're already planning on doctoring him once you get over there, obviously he won't be able to enjoy dinner with a bloody mouth. You rush over to Joseph's place, shutting all the doors he left open behind you.

You take a good long look around Joseph's place, his kitchen is to the left of the entrance and to the right there's a wall with two doors. There's food and dirty dishes scattered all over the kitchen's white marble looking island and the marble looking counter tops by Joseph are looking particularly brutal. They seem to be covered in splatters from some kind of red sauce, you assume tomato.. but you're unsure. God, he has a lot of cabinets. There's two rows of them above the stove and fridge… speaking of the fridge he has a giant stainless steel one that makes you envious just looking at it. Yours isn't even close to that big, no wonder he offered to store some of your food. Oh! Your food! You rush back over to your apartment and grab all the food setting on the counter that you couldn't store and rush back to Joseph's place, carefully shutting the doors with your right foot as you go. Joseph notices you carrying a ton of shit and opens the fridge doors for you, he has plenty of room in there. You carefully find a spot for everything then shut the fridge. You look over at Joseph, he takes the small towel out of pocket and wipes his hands on it then leaves it on the counter. "So that's what he had that for.." You think to yourself.

You continue to nose about, there's a giant stainless steel microwave to the right of the fridge that's built in. You think you got a bit ripped off, you don't have a built in microwave either.. maybe he added it in. Maybe he's just slowly upgrading his whole apartment. Joseph looks up at you and smiles. "Welcome to your fall back place. Nose all you want, I have nothing to hide." Joseph says confidently. He turns back to the stove and continues to stir something in a damn expensive looking pot. "Just so you know I'm going to doctor your wounds before we eat." You inform him. "Aww.. How sweet." Joseph responds teasingly, never looking up from the concoction he's stirring. You grumble under your breath and start to walk further in, looking for anything that would show a single ounce of information about Joseph and his past.

As you walk against the wall that you were greeted with to the right of you when you entered, you scope the perfectly clean white walls for any photos of himself or family and friends, but find none. All you find are weird modern prints that you assume came with the place considering you also have some that look the exact same in your place. All that you find that interests you in this part of the large room are the two doors that you assume lead to the bedroom and bathroom… or maybe one is a closet. You almost open one of the doors, you finger tips barely brush against the cold steel door lever before you retract your hand. You don't want to seem like a creep on the first date… you'll at least wait until the second date for that. Joseph starts to whistle a little tune as he cooks, you giggle at him.

You continue forward, trying to ignore the doors that are just begging to be opened. There's a small wall on the left side of the open room that separates the living room from the kitchen. Right next to that small wall is a large, beautifully carved, dining table with spirals and some sort of symbols etched across the edges of the whole thing. It's seemingly made of spruce and has matching dining chairs with the exact same patterns carved along the sides, they're tucked neatly underneath the table. You pull one out, silently claiming it as the spot you will sit at for dinner and probably every time you come here. You admire it's deep, blood red, cushions and gently brush a hand across it, it's so soft.

You push down on it, it seems comfortable too. It seems everything he has in here is of good quality, even the pots and pans he has scattered around seem name brand. You walk back to the corner of the table and trace the symbols embedded into the edge, you examine the symbols but don't recognize a single one of them… For some reason they call out to you, almost like you've seen them before… perhaps in a dream. They almost look.. alien. You quietly try to change your minds subject and glace at the table's centerpiece, a large beautiful wooden bowl with tons of fresh fruits is sitting in the center of the table, along with 2 silver candle holders with a burning white candle in each on either side of the bowl. He seems like a damn good decorator.

You move on to the living room. Sleek, red, futuristic lamps that look like something straight out of a GTA pimp's pint house sets on either side of a big brown leather couch. The side tables they are perched upon are also made of spruce and have the same symbols and pattern as the dining table. You assume all his furniture are made by the same person. You respect the time and dedication someone took to make all these beautiful pieces of work. You gaze over towards the fire place, it's just a normal fireplace, though there are LOTS of knickknacks on the mantle.. you choose to save those for another time. You admire the coffee table in front of the couch, yep, same pattern as all the other furniture. God, it must have taken someone years to complete this whole set of furniture. It has two white marble looking coasters on either end of the side towards the couch and the remote to his tv is neatly sat in front of the left coaster.

Well, from that you can gather that he usually sits there, but you could be completely wrong and that could just be where he keeps it. You look above the fireplace, he has a giant flat screen tv with two speakers drilled into the wall on either side on the tv. Of course he has a separate sound system for his tv, you should have assumed based on his… more than comfortable lifestyle. You're starting to question the salary of the sheriff deputies of this town, there's no way it can be that good.. can it? You examine the rug underneath the coffee table and couch, it's quite spunky, very colorful… oddly enough. Kind of Boho-ish, but otherwise a normal rug. Maybe he wanted to confuse people with the sudden change of color scheme, because he seems to have a dark brown and red theme going on here. Even the throw pillows on his couch are blood red.

You walk over to the kitchen to check on Joseph, he's still stirring away but whatever he's cooking is starting to smell really good, so you assume it's very close to done. It does smell like some sort of tomato sauce.. your stomach growls in anticipation. You start to look for ways to help, you feel bad for not helping him, he's injured and he took the time to make an amazing meal for you both and you're just wandering around like a weirdo. You know he's going to try to stop you, but you have to at least try. You start to bring the MANY dirty dishes Joseph's accumulated to the sink but he quickly grabs one of the dishes that you're very precariously holding and won't let go. "What are you doing? I'm cooking, not you. I'll do the dishes, don't worry about it." He snatches the dishes from you and sets them carefully into the sink. "Shoo Shoo." Joseph says as he dismissively waves a hand at you, he turns off the stove unit he was using and puts the pot of delicious looking sauce onto the spruce cutting board to the left of the stove.

"Go sit at the dining table while I finish up." Joseph orders, you stand there, unmoving. Joseph looks up at you and squints his eyes at you. "It's a surprise, go.. shoo." Joseph waves his hand at you once more, you squint your eyes at him in response but reluctantly go and sit at your spot at the dinner table. After a few moments of just sitting there and piddling with your hands, Joseph yells out "Done!" You look up, Joseph sets a piping hot plate in front of you. "Do you want me to sit beside you or in front of you?" Joseph asks shyly. "Next to me." You answer with a smirk. You're trying to tease him and make him buckle, but he catches on immediately and gives you a look… one that screams "now get ready for the storm." You gulp. He sets his plate next to yours on the left and plops down. You take a long look at the beautiful food he's prepared, it's ratatouille with a tomato sauce spread across the top. He didn't give you a small amount either, thank god, you're famished.

"WAIT!" You shout, causing Joseph to jump out of his skin. "What? What's wrong? Is something wrong with the food?" Joseph asks frantically. "I FORGOT TO DOCTOR YOU." You announce loudly, Joseph looks at you absolutely dumbfounded. You stand straight up. "Do you have a first aid kit?" You ask. You look at Joseph and at such a close range you can see every little detail of his injuries, he has a pretty bad busted lip and his right eye looks like it's killing him, he looks like he can barely see out of it, not to mention it's bloodshot. You can't even imagine the damage Harry took. God, what are you going to do with these two idiots? Are you going to have to keep breaking up their arguments forever? "I have one in the bathroo-" Joseph gets cut off by you grabbing his chin to examine his face even closer.

"How the hell did you two fight and land punches in under a minute? I had just enough time to pull out a ceramic kitty cat and suddenly Harry came out of your apartment with a black eye and you were off the ground and somewhere else. There's no way either of you could have possibly moved that fast, it had been like.. forty seconds AT MOST. Not to mention Harry said he just wanted to talk, and he seems like the type of person who MEANS what he says. I know this is bit of a stretch but… I know you're not human. I don't care what you are, I don't need to know right now, tell me when you feel comfortable enough to, but I know you're not one. There's been too much evidence, the way you and Harry move is just… to precise and without flaw, you're both, no offense, bad at understanding anything to do with social boundaries or how to communicate or really anything human, and you both seem to have endless money. You both are extremely gentle around me, almost like you're scared to hurt me, and you both seem just a bit too smart. Not to mention you both stared at me flustered when I was thinking about you two not being human. I just wanted to tell you that I know and I don't care, I believe in ghosts and aliens and cryptids and shit and I'd care for you both even if you were both bigfoot. Now where is your bathroom?" You finish your rant and Joseph blinks at you in response. He sits very still for a few seconds before he finally snaps out of it and points towards the door closest to the front door.

"Thank you." You respond. You walk over and savor every moment of opening that damn door, once you're inside the bathroom you don't examine much, all you notice is the pretty grey and white shower curtain and the fact it seems VERY clean in there. You rummage under the bathroom counter and find a red plastic first aid kit along with a shit ton of cleaning supplies. "Well, at least he's cleanly.." You think to yourself as you shut the cabinet door. You leave the bathroom and shut the bathroom door behind you, unlike someone, and speed walk back over to Joseph, who is sitting there staring at you like a confused cat. You carefully look Joseph over and find a small cut on his right eyebrow and a brouse on his right arm. You lift his shirt to which earns you a very surprised and flustered reaction from Joseph, his face flushes bright red and he starts to breath very heavily.

He's ripped, he has a 6 pack and very pink pretty nipples. You find one very big brouse under Joseph's right arm, but otherwise find nothing. You think it's kind of weird that he only has injuries on the right side of his body, but decide not to mention it. You make him lean forward and you check his back, nothing. You sigh and push him back against his chair and pull his shirt back down. "I don't think I need this right now.." You say as you quietly set the first aid kit on the table next to your plate of steaming hot food. You rush over to the kitchen and grab a few paper towels and wet them under some warm sink water, after that you grab a couple of bags of frozen peas from Joseph's fridge then you run back over to the dining table and sit back down. Joseph looks a little teary eyed but you can't tell if it's from the pain from his injuries or not so you don't comment. You carefully start to dab at his lip, he winces and whimpers then clamps his eyes shut in response.

"Shhh… it's okay. It's okay.." You say quietly. You hear a soft sigh come from him and he untenses. His eyes remain shut but he seems more relaxed and at ease from your reassurance. A single tear runs down Joseph's left eye, you carefully wipe it with your thumb and continue to dub at his lip. You fold the paper towel each time too much blood gets on it. After you're done with his busted lip, you carefully lay the dirty paper towel to the side, neatly folded into a square, and grab a new one to start dubbing his eyebrow with it. Upon further inspection the blood from his eyebrow had actually dripped into his eye a bit, that's probably why it's so bloodshot and painful looking.

You appreciate the fact that he was so determined to cook you dinner that he neglected his own needs to do so but you also feel awful about it. Obviously, you wish he had taken care of himself first, you wouldn't have minded slightly burnt food.. or even mildly burnt food. You just want him to feel better. You very gently wipe his eyelid clean and he gasps slightly and tenses up once more, but quickly untenses and sighs after a moment. "Sorry.. it's okay.. It's not too terribly bad." You reassure him. You reach behind him and rub his back a bit, tears start to stream down his face. His face contorts and he starts to silently cry. "Oh Joseph.." You whisper, before pulling him into a big bear hug. He hesitantly hugs you back and sobs quietly into your shoulder. This is definitely not just from pain, you wonder what bothered him so badly.

"Shhh… it's okay… I'm here.. Was it stressful? Do you want to talk about what happened?" You ask. Joseph shakes his head slowly. "It's not that." Joseph replies, his voice is horse and quiet. You rub comforting circles into his back. "What is it then, honey?" You gently push for information, after a moment of contemplation Joseph responds. "I never had parents.. or really anyone who showed me any kind of affection.. in fact, I grew up alone.. I had people who supplied me food and the bare minimum of what I needed to survive, but otherwise, that's about it.. Actually, I think I'm what people refer to as "touched starved"." Joseph says, solemnly. He starts to break down even more and squeezes you close to him, but not enough to hurt you. You hug him tighter in response and in response to that he pushes out his chair a bit and picks you up, his hands are right under your ass. You squeak at the sudden touch and he sets you right in his lap, his hands return to their original positions, protectively wrapped around you.

You rest your chin on his left shoulder as he continues to sob into the crook of your neck. You rub his scalp through his neatly kept hair for a while, you quietly shush him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. You reassure him that it's okay and that he's safe and that you won't leave him. After a while of consoling, he calms down slightly. You pull away and grab his chin, he looks up at you with tears still flooding from his eyes. You give him a gentle kiss on the nose and continue to dab his right eye. He closed his eyes when you kissed him and when he opened them they were full of nothing but love. He smiles as bright as the sun and sighs. He tries to calm his breathing, he takes deep breaths through his nose and out his mouth. "It's okay… take your time. I just didn't want you to hurt anymore.. I figured it would feel good for you to be clean and have some frozen peas on your eye.. So I'm trying to hurry and finish up here so you can have some relief." You say as you finish up cleaning his final wound. "Take your time.." Joseph playfully responds with a smirk.

You set the dirty paper towel on top of the other one and open the first aid kit, you grab two butterfly closures and place on on his eye's cut and the other on his busted lip. It seems to help a lot, you grab one of the bags of frozen peas and place it right on his right eye. He lets out a deep sigh of relief and he pushes his face into your touch. "Good boy.." You quietly praise him, he groans in response. You grab the other pack of peas and attempt to lift up his right arm, he gets the memo and lifts his arm for you to put the peas under there. He holds the peas with his arm on the giant brouse and sinks back into his chair. He reaches up with his other hand and places it over your hand that's holding the peas. "Joseph..?" You whisper. "Mmm?" Joseph hums, calmly. "Don't you wanna eat?" You ask quietly. "I don't want your food to get cold… you worked so hard on it.." You confess. "No.. I'd rather sit here like this for the rest of eternity, but I will."

Joseph sits up straight with a long dragged out groan and you get out of his lap and sit in your chair. His hand slips off your and you put the peas in his hand. You grab a spoonful of your food and start to say "ahhh" for Joseph to eat it but when you look over and see Joseph's disappointed little puppy face you can't help but laugh at him a bit. He furrows his brows at you. "I'm sorry, you're just so cute." You respond as you hide your smile with your free hand. "You are too." Joseph says, you gurgles a bit of water to get the blood out of his mouth before he takes a bite of the food. He hums in approval. You use the same spoon take take a bite for yourself, damn.. it's good. "You did an excellent job, chef." You praise him. "Thank you, madam. I had to make sure I gave you only the best food in the whole town." Joseph responds. You giggle at him as you both start to feed each other.

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18 notes · View notes

merakiaes · 4 years

Text

A Second Chance - John Shelby

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is a part two to “A Choice”. It’s not proofread and I was severely sleep-deprived when writing this so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes or if it sucks xD

Wordcount: 4927

Summary: Four years after leaving John and the Peaky Blinders behind to start a better life, you return to England and run into old friends.

Part One - A Choice

Life without John was just as painful as you had imagined it to be. The nightmares about your brother’s death that only he had been able to keep at bay had returned already the first night away from him, having you wake up screaming and drenched in sweat in the middle of the night.

After leaving your shared home without as much as a bag of clothes, you had gone straight to London where Ada was residing with Karl, and she had opened up her home to you without as much as a doubt, letting you cry into her arms, listening to you as you talked about your situation and doing her absolute best to soothe you during the night.

The next day, you had sat down and talked about what you were going to do for the future. She offered to go back to Small Heath and talk to her family, get their assistance on the divorce you wanted.

But she was different than the rest of them. She was on your side, he didn’t agree with her brothers’ morals and ways to make a living.

Tommy had never liked your attitude for the business and more specifically John’s part in it, and Arthur didn’t breath without his younger brother’s consent, so you knew that that going to them for help would never be an option.

And either way, all of them held the same belief; that no one divorced a Shelby. So Ada did the only thing she could.

She gave you some of her clothes, helped arrange your travels, gave you enough money to be able to live on wherever you ended up, until you could find yourself a job, and sent you off before John and the rest of the Peaky Blinders could come looking for you.

Ironically, they came knocking at her door only an hour after you had bid each other goodbye at the docks, John more or less storming inside the house and rushing through every room on the look for you while Tommy, Arthur and Polly tried to hold a calm conversation with Ada.

But Ada wasn’t about to give up your location, and they knew it. And they couldn’t do anything about it, because they didn’t have anything to hold against her.

All she did was tell them that you were safe, and that you were better off without the constant death and bloodshed, which only broke John’s heart even further, because even though he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the moment of your argument, he knew that she was right, and it hurt.

It hurt to know that he wasn’t good for you.

And he wasn’t the only one in pain. The nightmares of only your brother dying quickly turned into both of them dying, and sometimes, even Tommy and Arthur, too. And the dreams didn’t stop.

Even three and a half years later, you would wake up drenched in your own sweat and trembling with fear every night.

You had ended up in Australia after a long, long journey. There, you took up work as a nurse at an orphanage, managing to land yourself employment already on your first day there as the former nurse had recently passed away in very tragic circumstances.

You mourned the loss of the love of your life, even more so when you had to work with children all day, every day; children that could have been yours and his in the future.

Every time you would sign your name on a paper, your heart would break a little more, as you still carried his name seeing as you hadn’t gotten an official divorce.

And you couldn’t be bothered to send him divorce papers, knowing very well that Tommy would most likely be able to track you to your locations by sniffing the papers like the absolute bloodhound he was.

You stayed completely miserable for six whole months, falling into a deep depression and feeling that life no longer had anything to offer as you had no one left.

But with a bit of encouragement from your new-found friends, you pulled yourself together and sought out your own happiness, adopting two of the very children you had been caring for in the past months.

Their names were Sheryl and Henry and they were siblings.

Sheryl was a seven-year-old girl with bronzed skin and a head of big, golden curls and dimples that could make anyone melt on the spot.

They had been made orphans when their parents had passed away in sickness four years prior, but despite the unfortunate lives they held, Sheryl was one of the brightest souls you had ever met.

Henry was nine at the time, a lot paler than his younger sister and a lot more reserved and careful.

While Sheryl never seemed to be able to sit still, always having to run around and talk to everyone she came across, Henry was quiet and loved to sit in silence and read.

He was far too mature for his age and probably smarter than you. He had an amazing way with words and wanted to become a doctor when he grew up. He was also very good with numbers, which always made you think of John.

They made your life easier, and soon, although never stopping to love John, you found yourself moving on. You packed away the jewelry you had been wearing upon first arriving in Australia, that John had gifted you throughout the years, and hid it away along with everything else that reminded you of him.

Four years had passed since you left Small Heath. Sheryl was now eleven and Henry thirteen, the three of you living an as normal life as you could get.

You had kept in contact with Ada during the first year, but after that, you had stopped receiving letters, and you guessed they just kind of forgot about you.

But you didn’t blame them.

You probably should have forgotten them a long time ago, too. But for some reason, despite not regretting your decision, you didn’t.

But you knew you would have been a lot more mentally damaged if you had to watch John die. So this was the best for everyone.

And you liked it in Australia. You liked the heat, the nature, the people, and most of all; the calm. Bar fights and brawls on the streets was still something you saw every once in a while, but the violence wasn’t half as bad here as it had been in Birmingham.

But you could only stand the heat and sun for so long.

Four years after your arrival, you took the kids with you and left for London, starting a new chapter in your lives.

Seeing as you hadn’t heard anything from Ada the past few years, you had no idea what she was up to these days.

After getting settled into the inn you would be staying at for the first week in London, just until you made up your mind whether you would be staying permanently or only for a while, you headed off to Ada’s old house with the kids in tow, taking them out sight-seeing on the way.

Upon arriving, however, a woman you had never seen before opened the door, and informed you that the woman who had lived there before her had moved to America with her son a year prior.

It saddened you that you wouldn’t be able to see her and introduce her to Henry and Sheryl, but you were happy she had been able to go off into the world on her own like she had always wanted.

You could admit you were anxious to run into any of the other Shelbys, knowing you’d have to introduce them to your children, but unlike when you had first left England when the Peaky Blinders had been on everyone’s tongues, you hadn’t heard a single word about them.

It made you slightly panicked, fear that they had finally met their ruler and gotten themselves killed filling your body, but you didn’t dare ask anyone about it, scared about what you might have found out if you did.

So you just put on a brave smile, showing the kids around the capital of your home country, the three of you having a jolly good time.

You had just entered the food market, the very same one that had been there every Thursday even back when you still lived there, and Henry and Sheryl had run off to the nearby kennel to pet the puppies running around outside in a small enclosure.

While they played with the small balls of fur, you took the opportunity to stroll along the stands of food and vegetables, starting to plan dinner for the evening to come.

You collected the things you thought you would be needing and paid for them, packing them in a brown fabric bag. You turned on your heel, still fiddling with the bag in your hands, when a voice suddenly spoke from right beside you.

“(Y/N)?”

You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice speaking your name, with the same smooth tone that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Your heart instantly picked up speed in your chest and you breathed shakily as you slowly turned around.

“John.” You breathed, your eyes growing big with disbelief as you spotted him, your heart beating even more violently once you caught sight of him.

And he was just as shocked as you were, looking as pale as if he had just witnessed a ghost.

“(Y/N). I-“

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Another voice joined the conversation before John had the chance to say whatever it was he had been about to say.

The shock quickly melted off and was replaced with a wide smile as a now short-haired Polly emerged from the crowd in the market.

“Polly!” You greeted her, and she smiled a smile to match your own.

“Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She said, wasting no time in taking you into a hug.

You hugged her back, growing sad at the familiar feeling of the motherly love you had gotten from her all while knowing her niece and nephews.

As you broke apart again, she threw a look over her shoulder, waving her hand. “Boys!”

There was no doubt in your mind who she was calling for, and not even half a minute later, Tommy, Arthur and another boy you couldn’t quite recognize emerged from the crowd, as well.

Arthur was the one to spot you first, and a cheeky grin immediately spread on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He cursed, shaking his head. “If it isn’t (Y/N). It’s good to see you nice and well, lass.”

“Hello, Arthur.” You chuckled, accepting the embrace he offered upon reaching you, hugging him quickly before turning to look at Tommy.

You offered him a smile and a nod of your head. “Tommy.” You acknowledged, and he tipped his head back to you, taking the cigarette out of mouth to answer.

“(Y/N). You’re looking good.”

Offering him a smile, you thanked him. “Thank you.”

You then turned to the third boy, or young man, was better suited, narrowing your eyes slightly as you scanned his freckled face, trying to find something familiar that could put a name to his person.

And it all fell into place when you caught the small scar on the side of his lips, a smile yet again rising to your lips.

“Finn?”

The boy in question nodded his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You look so different, I barely even recognized you!” You said, and met him halfway for a hug. He was now taller than all of his brothers, towering over them with a good margin.

“Yes, well, it’s been a while.” He chuckled, and you could sense immediately that he was nothing like his brothers. But then again, you had known that already when he was just a little boy.

“Four bloody years, it’s been.” Arthur jumped in, laughing slightly.

You stepped back after hugging Finn and opened your mouth to speak again, but before you could get another word out, a shy voice called out from behind you.

“Ma?”

You whipped around, turning to face Henry and Sheryl who were now standing behind you, watching the Shelbys with curious and shy eyes.

You put on a smile, turning to face them completely. “Yes, darling?”

Henry let his eyes linger on the strangers behind you for another moment, before turning to look at you with his soft, careful eyes. “Can we have some money for treats?”

Sheryl was smiling expectedly at his side, and you looked between them, shaking your head. “It’s a Wednesday and you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Please.” Sheryl begged, pouting and looking up at you with her big eyes, while Henry just kept smiling shyly.

“Just this once?”

You let your eyes shift between them for a moment, all too aware of the Shelbys watching the scene unfold. You sighed, reaching your hand into the pocket of your coat.

“Fine, but just a small bag, yeah?” You told them, fishing out a note form your wool jacket and handing it over to Henry, who instantly lit up in a big smile.

“Yes!” Sheryl cheered, and Henry was quick to nod his head.

“Promise, thanks.” He agreed, coming up to you and leaving a hasty kiss at your cheek before running along to the candy store, Sheryl not far behind, yelling out a quick ‘hello’ at the Shelbys as they passed them.

Watching them disappear into the shop at the other side of the street, you turned back to the Shelbys, who were all looking at you with different expressions.

“You’ve got kids.” Polly was the first one to speak, eyes wide with surprise.

You could only smile, and nod your head in confirmation. “I do.”

“They look a bit old to be yours.” Arthur was confused, glancing over to the shop inside which they had just disappeared.

“I took them in from the orphanage I worked at in Australia.” You told them, and Arthur nodded.

“So that’s where you ended up, ey?”

“Yeah, it was a journey to say the least.” You turned sad at that, thinking back to how rough the first period away from your home and the people you loved had been. Quickly, you shook away the sadness and forced yourself to smile, trying to look your happiest.

“You’re all looking good!” You hurriedly attempted to change the subject. “How have things been going for you?”

“We legitimated the business.” Tommy joined in on the conversation for the first time so far, taking a drag out of his cigarette. “Everything we do now is legal. No underground work, no Peaky Blinders. Just… strictly, political business.”

To say you were shocked at this was a big understatement. Almost as if out of instinct, your eyes shot up to the peaky caps on their heads, and only then did you realize the razor blades were nowhere to be seen. Could they really have given up on the gangster way of life?

You could barely believe your ears.

“I’m glad it’s been going well for you.” You answered, quickly covering up your shock, but as Tommy’s words registered in your mind, your eyes automatically shifted to John, only to find he had already been looking at you with an unreadable expression.

The others watched as the two of you entered a staring competition, completely disconnecting from everything else going on around them – including them.

Polly smiled smugly, inspecting your facial expressions for a moment before hooking her arm with Finn’s. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” She said. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N). Come by for tea someday, and bring the little ones.”

You nodded your head, answering. “I will, thank you.”

But not once did you tear your eyes away from John’s as you spoke the words, barely even noticing the others slipping off and down the street again, leaving you to yourselves.

A heavy silence was left over the two of you, only standing there staring into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to the people shoving their way past you left and right.

The sides of his head were still clean-shaven underneath his cap, he still dressed in the same grey suit, only much fancier and more expensive-looking than the ones he used to wear before you left.

He had a scar running over the side of his jaw, without a doubt created by some kind of blade, and unlike keeping his face clean-shaven like he always had before, he now had a short, short ginger stubble.

He looked much older than he had when you left him, despite only four years having passed, but you guessed the consuming line of work they had been involved in did that to a person.

He still looked good, though. His blue eyes were still sparkling and framed by the long, thick, dark eyelashes you had always loved so much, and his lips were still pink and full. He looked as dashing as ever, standing in front of you a new man.

“You’ve changed.”

John was the first one to break the silence, officially breaking you out of your trance.

But still, you didn’t move your eyes away from his.

“Time changes people.” You stated simply, blinking slightly.

He gave you the smallest nod, sniffling. “Suppose that’s a good thing.”

“Not necessarily, but in my case, yes, I would say so.” You answered, nodding your head too. “I feel very fortunate to be where I am today.”

He said nothing else for a brief moment, only staring at you and suddenly growing very hesitant.

“Did you ever…” He began, trailing off. He breathed in through his nose, his eyelashes fluttering a few times. “Did you ever settle down again? With someone else?”

You had expected the question, probably before he had even thought of it, and wasn’t shocked when it came.

A sad smile rose to your lips at that, and a small sigh left your nose as you shook your head. “No one could ever compare to you, John.” You admitted in a whisper, and at your words, his demeanor faltered entirely.

“I missed you.” He said, taking a small step closer to you. “I still miss you. I never stopped. I never moved on. I tried to, a couple of times, but I couldn’t.”

“John…” You started, feeling your heart picking up speed in your chest again as you watched him come closer and closer. But you didn’t move.

“No, I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He interrupted you, shaking his head. “Everyone told me I would forget you with time but here we are four years later and I still love you like I did back then. And you’re standing here, looking more beautiful than ever, and you moved on.”

“I don’t regret leaving you.” The words came out of your lips before you could stop yourself. “You have to know that.”

Guilt filled your entire body the moment you had said it, only increasing when witnessing his face fall into one of sadness. But it was true what you said. He did have to know it.

“I know. And I understand.” He, surprisingly, agreed. “I started understanding the second I heard you had left for good. I tried to find you, I wanted to come after you and give you what you wanted, but Ada refused to tell me where you were. She said I wasn’t good for you, that you deserved better.”

The guilt started gnawing at you from the inside once more, your eyebrows knotting together. “John-“

“And she was right.” He interrupted again.

You sighed, finally breaking eye-contact and adverting your eyes to the ground as he came to a stop right in front of you.

“John… I don’t know where you’re trying to go with this, but after all this time apart, we would never work. We didn’t back then, and we wouldn’t now.”

“You’re wrong.” He protested almost at once. “I can see why you would think that. But you’re wrong.”

You carefully brought your eyes back up to meet his, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. “I’m happy you’ve all turned your lives around for the better, I really am.” You told him quietly. “And I wish you all the very best, because you deserve nothing less. But I’ve got my own people to look after now.”

“What about me?” He asked. “I know you still love me. I know you better than you know yourself, and if you didn’t love me, you would have walked away long ago.”

“You knew me. Knew.” You corrected him. “But you said it yourself, people change.”

“You have your kids to look after, but you are my people. I want and have to look after you like you look after them, your happiness is all that matters to me.”

You took his words into consideration for a moment, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. But you just couldn’t. Up until this point, you had been under the impression that you had suffered so much because you couldn’t live without him.

But you realized now, as you stood in front of him once again, after four whole years apart, that it was the fact that he had chosen the life as a thug over you that had hurt you the most.

“It didn’t matter back when it should have mattered.” You whispered back finally, having to squeeze your eyes shut even harder in order to keep the tears building up at bay.

Your heart was screaming at you to just grab his face in your hands and kiss him, forgive him for everything and pick everything up where you left off, but after being his second choice once, you just couldn’t trust his words.

Letting out a shaky breath, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying your best to rid of the stinging tears. You looked up at him and gave him one last look.

“It was nice seeing you again, John.” You whispered. “Give Ada my love the next time you see her, yeah?”

He looked down at you, and you swallowed when you realized he was done talking, turning around without another word and starting to head for the candy shop.

Your feet felt like they were made of concrete as you walked, and your heart felt just as heavy in your heart, if not even heavier.

You didn’t know it was possible for an already broken heart to break again, but here you were, feeling the already shattered organ splitting into a thousand pieces once again.

“(Y/N).”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice calling out your name, your breathing turning slightly shallow and your eyes growing wide.

You knew you should have probably just kept walking, gotten the kids and gotten out of there. You knew the only thing you shouldn’t have done was turn around.

But as he called after you, stopping you from leaving like he hadn’t the first time around, you couldn’t help yourself, your body moving all on its own and turning you back around to face him.

Your eyes met his in an instant, and wordlessly, you watched as he brought his hand up to his neck, reaching inside his collar and pulling out a chain. He grabbed the front of it and gave it a tug, successfully ripping it free from around his neck.

He looked down at the piece of jewelry, fiddling with it for a moment, before holding it up, and your eyes instantly widened at the sight.

“Is that-“ You began, breathless, having to cut yourself short in surprise.

John nodded his head, holding the small ring in between his fingers, slowly walking over to you as he spoke.

“It’s been four fookin’ years since I last saw you but I still love you like I did back then.” He told you, his eyes never leaving your face, and your eyes never leaving the familiar engagement ring.

He stopped in front of you, looking down at you with pleading eyes. “Come home, please.” He begged. “Give me another chance. Give us another chance.”

“John-“

“Mom.” A voice suddenly came from beside you, and both you and John whipped your heads around to find Henry and Sheryl standing off to the side, each of them clutching a bag of sweets in their hands.

Sheryl was giggling quietly to herself, and Henry was smiling at you, giving you once of those looks only Henry could give; the kind that made him look so much older than he really was.

“The appropriate response when the love of your life is proposing to you is to say yes.” He spoke, and you instantly widened your eyes at his words, even more so when Sheryl joined in, nodding her head.

“You should kiss, too.” She said. “It’s in the rulebook.”

You furrowed your eyebrows lightly. “Rulebook?” You mumbled quietly under your breath, thinking to yourself, but didn’t get much time to actually form an answer as John spoke up again.

“You should listen to your kids, (Y/N).” He instructed you, causing you to turn back to look at him. “They might not be yours by flesh and blood but they’ve got your brains.”

You stood frozen, not knowing what do nor say. Were you really ready to rely on John’s promises of making a better living for himself again? After all, you had only bumped into each other less than five minutes ago.

You guessed you could take their word for it, but in reality, you really had no idea what they were up to nowadays. A lot could change for the better over the course of four years, but a lot could have changed for the worse, too.

Having gotten lost in your thoughts and doubts, you had completely missed the way his hands had raised to your face, only coming back to reality when feeling the warm, rough skin of his palms brush against your cheeks.

And when the connection between your skin was made, it was like all of your doubts just melted right off in one second.

You had missed John this entire time, more so than you would ever be able to put into words, but you hadn’t realized how much you had craved his skin against yours until it actually happened again.

Your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes fluttered shut, and as if your body was moving all on its own, you wordlessly tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your lips pressing together within the next second.

And from the moment they touched, you were clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow, like the other would just disappear into thin air if you let go, four years’ worth of missed feeling spilling into one single kiss.

Your hand came up to grab at the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scratching the scalp of his head while his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You didn’t break apart for almost a minute, lips moving together roughly and desperately. If you would have been able to, you would’ve never broken apart again, but you needed air, and soon had to do so, although very begrudgingly.

Your chests were heaving up and down violently against the other’s when you came apart, eyes opening and staring into each other’s.

You stayed like that for a moment, forehead’s pressed together, until you turned around to look at Henry and Sheryl who were still standing to the side, now grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.

You raised an eyebrow at the oldest at the two, taking a small step away from John. “Now, what does a thirteen-year-old know about love?” You asked, referring to his previous statement of encouragement.

At your question, his grin only widened. “You have a box labeled ‘John’ hidden at the back of your closet and you stare at it every time you open the wardrobe to pick out your clothes. I may only be thirteen but I’m not stupid.” He answered, and you could instantly feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as John chuckled beside you.

You didn’t get much time to dwell upon your adoptive son’s remark, however, as John grabbed a hold of your face once more, turning you back to look at him.

“Will you come back?” He asked, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

And this time, no doubts clouded your mind, a lazy smile spreading over your lips.

“Wouldn’t want to break the rules in the rulebook, now would we?” You questioned playfully and smiled widely as you watched him slide your wedding band back onto your finger.

He smiled, and you could just about make out the corners of his eyes starting to glisten before he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, hugging you into his chest and burying his face in your neck, smiling into your skin.

“I have a box labeled with your name, too.” He said, voice slightly muffled.

And just like that, you went back to being lovers and remained that way this time around.

#John Shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky #blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #arthur shelby #tommy shelby #ada shelby #ada thorne #polly gray #finn shelby #thomas shelby

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moccahobi · 4 years

Text

Written in The Stars [Hoseok x Reader]

Warnings: Cuss words

Summery: Hoseok had always been big on supporting his friends. Thus it came as no surprise that he ended up spending his free time at Namjoon's latest buiseness venture: a little dessert cafe. He didn't expect to fall for the cute barista who always worked when he was there though the.

Word count: 7k words

Genre: Slice of life au; Cafe au

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @kyub for making the banner and @heyitsmeee2, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane, @jiminful, and @elenasgotyourback for betaing. This fic took so much out of me! I had one idea than the next and the main time I had to write this was during school. Oof! I am glad I did it though! Big shutout to @bangtanscenery for orchestrating and creating this project! It was soo fun!

Hoseok sighed from where he was seated in the all too cliche cafe. Namjoon had just opened it up so Hoseok was trying to fulfill his role as a supportive friend by eating there, but it just wasn’t a place he was into. The place was beautiful. He could tell Namjoon and his business partner had quite the eye for design. The wall behind the register was painted in chalk and the menu was written in large swirling letters across it. They had picked a light and natural wood tone for the tables and booths that complimented the dark grey of the metal chairs which were all all seats upholstered with a rich navy blue and embezzled with glittering gold rebites keeping the cushions to the furniture. It was an ethereal kind of look that undoubtedly drew in the crowds.

Looking around, Hoseok’s eyes landed on a large astrology chart sprawled out on the back wall, similar in handwriting to the menu, painting a story with the chart. He only noticed it because Namjoon had a passion for astrology and he would often gush about it to Hoseok who would listen to almost all the times that they met up. To top it off, the ceiling was painted in an all consuming shade of black, mimicking a galaxy with its streaks of white, here and there, which glimmered like actual stars (although Hoseok could admit that the ceiling was almost a piece of art). Aside from the heavy reliance on a theme, it was a dessert cafe. Hoseok liked sweets. Namjoon loved sweets apparently. Almost every food was doused in sugar and it was almost overwhelming just how sweet it all was. They all sounded amazing and cavity inducing (especially the french toast and ice cream combo), and Hoseok was tempted to try them, but he couldn’t handle all that sugar in one sitting. He’d need someone to help and he didn’t have someone to help him today. The only thing Hoseok could handle was the Black Hole coffee (americano with a little sugar) and a Galaxy bagel (it was just a plain bagel with some sugary cream cheese). Hoseok felt a little more like Yoongi, the resident grump of his friends, sitting in the cafe with such… unsweetened foods.

Of course Namjoon’s cafe had some savory food and Hoseok wanted to try them some other time, maybe with Yoongi.The main thing Namjoon sold was dessert though, and to support Namjoon, Hoseok had to have one of the desserts.

What wasn’t a shock about Namjoon’s cafe was that he co-owned and ran it with someone else. Hoseok didn’t know who it was yet, Namjoon having not told him yet but from what Hoseok knew of the current set up, they were manning the counter with two baristas. From what Namjoon had said about his business partner, they were much more focused on what they were serving as well as the astrology side of the cafe work than any of the real business. It gave Namjoon exactly what he wanted: the business side of things and a partner to share the possible debt. Hoseok had finally managed to visit today, their fifth day open and if he had to list the things that he did like, he’d have to start with the ceiling and then mention one of the baristas:

They took his breath away the second he entered the store. They smiled broadly and greated Hoseok and for a second, he forgot that he was at a local cafe and not a family run restaurant back in Gwangju. The world slowed as he looked at them and all Hoseok could think about was the warm feeling of returning to his mom’s friend’s restaurant after his post-school program and eating kimchi and rice.

The trance was broken the second she turned to take someone’s order and Hoseok slowly came back to reality. He wasn’t in Gwangju but he was about to have a wonderful meal in a shop owned by a friend.

Hoseok had only been in the cafe for half an hour and he could already say that he was starting to develop a small crush on the barista. He didn’t mean to and he didn’t dare think about actually asking her out… it just happened. She was a pretty woman doing her job and Hoseok was an attention starved small business owner who was entranced by her caring attitude. Hoseok was stressed and tired. Plus, he was finally feeling better after his last relationship. There wasn’t this constant longing nestled deep inside him at the thought of the end of his last relationship anymore, and he might finally be at a point where dating was ok to do again.

That is what he brushed it off as.

Hoseok didn’t want to think of the alternative. He just got out of a relationship a month ago and was still recovering even if he felt like he might be better now. Sure it might have been a mutual agreement based on his best interests and their best interest, but that didn’t make it any harder. Hoseok still missed the nights when they would spend the night in their apartment and snuggle close while watching cheesy shows or when they’d force him to stop working on pottery for a day and instead grab food at one of the food trucks. He missed the companionship but by now, he didn’t know if he missed them.

He might.

There wasn’t a real way to always tell though. The two went everywhere together. Every place that Hoseok went to now conjured memories that danced and pranced around in his mind. This cafe would be different though. There were no ghost memories dancing around. It was new and he could work effectively and happily.

At some point while Hoseok was finishing his food, Namjoon came over and joined him. The two had barely had more than a handful of conversations since graduating college, both too busy to make time for the other as small business owners (well this was Namjoon’s second business venture, the other supplying him a good source of money to fund him and the cafe). That was how life was sadly but with this cafe open so close to where Hoseok lived and worked that now they might have a chance of having long and winded conversations again.

“Do you remember watching stars on our old apartment’s rooftop?” Namjoon asked at one point, a soft and content smile on his face

“Somewhat. They were nice. Cold, but nice.” Hoseok lied while taking a long sip of his coffee.

Namjoon had always loved the night sky, so much so that he would drag Hoseok out three times a week just to look at the sky. The man could name every constellation and phase of the moon off the top of his head. It was an amazing skill. Hoseok didn’t have that same passion though. Sure, the night sky was nice, awe inspiring at times, but most nights Hoseok would return from work exhausted and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Those nights when Namjoon and Hoseok would go onto the roof and look at the sky were mostly filled with Hoseok drifting off in the cold.

Hoseok did it though and Hoseok would do it again in a heartbeat because it made Namjoon happy.

Namjoon smiled broadly, “That was kinda the inspiration for the cafe’s decorations! My co-owner, Y/n-ssi, really likes astrology so she added some of the more… magical elements.”

Hoseok chuckled and looked around with a small smile growing on his face as well,“I am glad you enjoyed those nights so much. Do you still make time to go out and look at the stars?” Hoseok asked before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“No.” Namjoon snorted, his smile much larger now, “I am a working man. I barely have time to eat, sleep, and breath. Let alone gaze up at the stars.”

“You should make time, Namjoon-ah. It isn’t healthy to work all the time.” Hoseok chastised, taking special care now to scrutinize Namjoon’s face.

He looked very similar to the young twenty year old Hoseok once knew but there was more evidence now of stress and wear-and-tear. Frown lines and bags etched in his face. When was the last time Namjoon took a break from all his work? Hoseok didn’t know the answer. He did know though that he was no better than Namjoon. This was his first real break in a week or two.

“You sound like Minjae.” Namjoon laughed.

Hoseok winced instead, “Sometimes we need someone to look after us, Namjoon-ah.”

“I am sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

“It is ok, dude. I am over her.” Hoseok said, carefully watching Namjoon process what Hoseok said.

He still looked stressed, his frown lines growing as he looked at the table instead of Hoseok. Namjoon had set up Minjae and Hoseok and his pride was undoubtedly wounded when the two decided to end it. Namjoon also barely had time to check in with the two so his own memory was probably a little foggy.

“ Anyways, we should try to go camping sometime… or go to some sort of museum for stars. Bet we could stay there for five hours before they’d kick us out.” Hoseok proposed, watching as Namjoon smiled, his frown lines becoming ghosts as he looked back up at Hoseok again as the previous stress left him.

Namjoon snorted in laughter, “I would love to look at the stars with you again, if that is what you’re asking.”

His eyes lit up as he started to speak animatedly, “And we can make s’mores and grill some beef. Oh my god! I haven’t had beef in sooo long. It would be so good!”

“I think we would have to go camping to do that, Namjoon-ah. I don’t know if a museum will allow us to start a fire and cook stuff there.” Hoseok laughed.

“Well then, looks like we will be going camping.”

“Yeah. Looks like we will have to plan that soon.”

A comfortable silence filled the two as they looked out at the bustling cafe, nothing left to talk about. They were both running their own stores, Hoseok had his pottery shop and Namjoon had the bookshop and now this cafe. The two did the same work just in a different setting and neither felt the need to talk about it. Shortly after their conversation died down, Namjoon had to go back to work. He mainly worked in the backroom but there was almost more work to be done.. Hoseok didn’t mind. He understood the struggle. Namjoon leaving actually left Hoseok excited as he could finally start reading the latest book he grabbed from the library. Giddily, he tapped his feet against the floor and quickly pulled the book out of his bag and started to read. The soft and sure feeling of the hardback book grounded him as he started to be carried away by the words. Distantly, he registered people moving around him as life carried on but he didn’t care one bit. The tension rose in the story the further he read and soon enough he found himself tightly gripping the book as more and more problems arose. Time passed at an unknown rate to Hoseok as someone new sat near him or left or readjusted. He barely noticed any and all changes that happened around him, too absorbed in the world he held in his hands (which he was somehow only a third of the way through). That was until he noticed someone sit across him at his table. They said something that he didn’t quite hear or understand and he quickly tried to get to a stopping point so converse with whoever it was (probably Namjoon back to bother him more).He looked up in shock to see the cute barista from earlier, smiling and taking a bite of her sandwich. You were the last person Hoseok expected to see sitting with him. Maybe an old friend and very possibly Namjoon, but you? A cute barista he barely said one word to? Nope.

You blushed and started to speak, a hand covering her mouth to hide the food you were eating, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you for my lunch. I noticed you talking to Namjoon-ssi earlier and you’re reading one of my favorite books and I thought that it could be cool to meet and talk to you. I am Y/n by the way.” She smiled brightly and nodded lightly at Hoseok.

Hoseok laughed quietly and blushed himself before nodding with a smile, “I am Hoseok. Why is it your favorite book? Oh! And no spoilers! I just started the second part.”

“Ah! A bunch of good stuff is about to happen! I am warning you!” You laughed before taking a sip of your drink.

As you did so, Hoseok looked at what you brought with you, namely your lunch box. Hoseok knew that Namjoon built into the budget a small meal for each of the workers during their shift and it struck Hoseok as endearing that you brought your own food instead of eating the sugary sweets offered in the cafe. It was smart too. The sweets probably wouldn’t be the healthiest to eat daily and you could eat more if you packed your own food.

“I really enjoyed the story. It just… it traps you and doesn’t let you go. The author is really good about that in general with her works. I have read some of her other works and they’re so good!” You said, your eyes glued on the book splayed on the table and not Hoseok.

“I am learning that now.” Hoseok laughed, “This is my first time reading one of her works and I definitely want to read more of her stuff. I specifically enjoy how she is associating certain aspects of her world with different textures and feelings. ”

You nodded excitedly as Hoseok kept talking, your cheeks full of food as you ate. His heart fluttered endearingly as he watched you eat and talk about the book, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed with excitement. Time was moving almost as quickly as when he read the book and he enjoyed it. There was something fun about talking about a book with someone. He hadn’t done it since high school (Minjae was always more of a movie or show person and he did other things with other people). Until now, reading had been an activity he’d done alone. He found himself smiling and laughing more with you than he had in awhile. Maybe there was something fun about talking about books with others that Hoseok had been ignoring until now.

Maybe there was something magical about you.

Maybe it was how your eyes drew him in and kept him there. He didn’t fully know.

The fun didn’t last too long though. You came to talk during your lunch break and lunch breaks were short. It didn’t help that as they talked more and more, he started getting inspiration on some new pottery and he knew that he would need to start working on them soon or he might lose the idea (that or he’ll lose the inspiration).. Just to be safe, he excused himself after you finished eating your sandwich and made his way to his shop. He tried to ignore the image of you nodding and smiling sadly as he left that bounced around in his head but it was heard. You simply looked so adorable and he wish that he didn’t have to leave.

In fact, he thought about how he left Namjoon’s cafe in a rush many times over the following week. Regret stewed inside him the more time he dwelled on it and didn’t return to the cafe. He should have risked the idea for talking with you (his new creation barely sold so it probably wasn’t worth losing a conversation). He should have stayed longer. He should have asked you for your number. Then maybe he might have been able to ask you out to meet up (and maybe call it a date). Plus, if he had gotten your number then he might have had enough courage to reenter the shop instead of standing outside of the shop like an absolute buffoon every time he passed it. Like he was currently doing right now. Inside the shop, people were bustling around. A group of children had gathered there after school and were drinking some sort of milkshakes. People were simply sitting there and working. Friends were meeting up. You were working away behind the counter.

He was standing outside like a loser.

He wished that he had the gall to go in and order something (as well as as for your number) but all he could do was watch you flutter around behind the counter as you worked hard, his own heart fluttering and stuttering as he watched you work. Why was he chickening out? He didn’t have this issue when he officially asked Minjae out but with you Hoseok could barely manage to gather up courage to ask for your number. Maybe he wasn’t actually ready for a new relationship.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about possibly having one with you. Hoseok was so confused. Friends could ask for numbers too. It wasn’t inherently a romantic action. Hoseok liked the idea of it being a somewhat romantic action.

He didn’t have the courage to go in today sadly. Hoseok didn’t know when he would have the courage to.

With a disheartened sigh that seemed to cling in the air around him, Hoseok turned around and sat at the bench in front of the cafe. It overlooked streets that were surprisingly empty save for a bus or two. He watched as a couple walked hand in hand on the sidewalk across the street, dopey smiles on their face as they looked at each other.

A pang of jealousy bubbled up in his stomach as he stared at them. The two looked so happy and content. He wanted that. He wanted that with someone who wanted similar things out of a relationship (unlike Minjae). Hoseok could be the man across the street holding hands with a romantic partner if he just asked someone out.

“Crazy seeing you here, Hoseok-ssi.” Your voice shocked Hoseok out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn around to face you.

Your hair was frizzy from a long day of work but your eyes shone brightly, almost saying that you enjoyed every minute of the hard work you did. Hoseok understood that drive. Your navy blue apron complimented what you were wearing underneath too, over all you looked undeniably cute. You took Hoseok’s breath away. Even if you had coffee stains and looked like death, you would have taken Hoseok's breath away.

“Y-y-yeah! I… Uhhh… I was enjoying the view.” Hoseok managed to stutter out, turning red as he kept stuttering.

“Oh really? Street views are nice… Yet, I had hoped that you might have been thinking about coming into the cafe. Guess I was wrong.” You laughed, sitting next to Hoseok on the bench and taking out your lunch box, this time a dinner tucked neatly into it.

Hoseok spent a few seconds to look at the tattered lunch box. You must have had it for a while as there were scratches and dents on it that only came with time and repetitive use.

“I-I… well… I might have been thinking about going inside.”

“And what made you decide to not go inside? Did you want an actual dinner?” You laughed before putting some of your food into your mouth.

“Oh… Uh… no… I just… decided not to. Nothing against the cafe.”

“Ok. And how is the book going?”

“Uhh… It is going decent.”

Hoseok was kicking himself. Just a minute ago he was fantasizing about going on a date with you and thinking about how cute you were and now he could barely finish a sentence! How was he supposed to even possibly ask you out when he couldn’t even get out more than a four word sentence and you were carrying most of the conversation?

He was handsome, damn it!

He was a catch! Yet here he was getting flustered by a barista… what has he come to.

You weren’t just any barista though… You were a cute and interesting barista who liked similar books to him.

“Why’d you decide to come outside and eat instead of eating inside?” Hoseok finally asked, trying to push his nerves aside.

“Oh! Well… It’s hot and stuffy. Plus, you’re here. That helps.” You said quietly and from the corner of Hoseok’s eye he noticed you blush as you gently brushed your shoulder against his.

A fluttering in Hoseok’s heart made his response get stuck in his throat. What was that supposed to mean? Was she interested in him too? How was he supposed to interpret that?

He cleared his throat and spoke, “Yeah… You’re pretty cool too, I guess.”

What?

What is all he could say?

How lame!

“I mean, I think you’re cool. I just don’t know you much yet and don’t want to say something that might possibly be wrong… I don’t think you might not be cool though! I just-”

Your laugh interrupted Hoseok and struck him into silence. It was a melodious laugh that he could listen to for hours on end and never get bored.

“I am glad you think I am cool, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, turning towards Hoseok with a broad smile.

Hoseok’s heart was beating wildly now. Its erratic heartbeats weren’t ideal earlier when you were simply sitting next to him but now? How was he even supposed to focus with you staring at him intently? Especially with your lips looking like the perfect place for his own lips.

Unintentionally, Hoseok started to lean towards you.

They really did look wonderfully soft.

What was he thinking about?

You were practically a stranger! Even worse: you were Namjoon’s employee! For all he knew you were trying to use Hoseok to get a better pay.

But Namjoon paid his employees well… and most didn’t have tons of room to grow with the work as it was a small cafe.

“I enjoy your company too, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok said with a cough as he turned to face the street again.

All of the sudden he was very focused on how hot he was feeling. It wasn’t summer but the heat was… present. He was probably blushing and sweating from the heat. Nothing else.

“Even if we have a conversation like this? Where we’re both awkward?” You asked with a strained laugh, leaning into Hoseok.

You had stopped eating.

“Uhh… y-y-yeah. I am having fun. Even if it doesn’t seem like I am.”

“So… would you enjoy my company if we… went on a date, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked slowly, your voice devoid of all laughter.

“Oh. I. Yeah! Totally.” Hoseok’s voice cracked and he leaned back and coughed to try to cover it up, “I mean… It’d be cool, I guess. Yeah. That would be nice.”

You giggled, “Wonderful. How does… Tomorrow at seven in the evening sound? We can meet up here and then go somewhere close by.”

That was so soon.

He could make it though.

“Yeah. That works.” Hoseok nodded, trying to ignore the incessant vibrations from his phone that was sitting in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked with a small giggle, already going back to eating your food.

“Oh. Yeah.”

He quickly grabbed his phone and looked at who was calling. It was Jisoo, one of his employees.

“Hey… boss. I am sorry but uhh… I can’t make it to my shift. I have been vomiting nonstop. I think I have food poisoning. I am about to go to the hospital. I tried asking Jinyoung but apparently he is currently working and can’t do any more overtime. I am so sorry.” Jisoo spoke hurridly.

Hoseok winced at the connotation. He only had two employees aside from him and this meant that he would have to go in and keep the shop open until ten tonight. Five hours more of work and he needed to leave soon.

“Don’t worry, Jisoo. You didn’t intend to get sick. Take care.” Hoseok said before hanging up and looking over at you, “That is sadly my signal to go.”

You looked like a kicked puppy in that moment, a sad gaze growing as you looked up at Hoseok, “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

All while he walked away, he wished that he could turn around and spend the rest of your break together. He felt like an ass for leaving right after agreeing to a date but his shop needed him. It was the curse of a shop owner and it was a curse that Hoseok had chosen.

Of course, what he hadn’t realized until he got to his shop and Jinyoung had left was that he completely forgot to get your number once again.

He was such a damn idiot at times!

Now he couldn’t text you to fill the time that he was forced to work. He also couldn’t get any more information about your date. Would it be formal? Casual? Where were you going to take him? Should he get a gift for you?

It’d make sense that the two of you would be going on a date after your shift because otherwise why would he meet you at Namjoon’s cafe?

In the end Hoseok fretted all throughout his shift and the night about what he could possibly wear for his date tomorrow. Everything felt wrong and he had no idea what to do. Everything he did and tried on felt like not enough. Nothing felt right and for the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. First dates were hard and he didn’t know how to prepare.

He shaved and just barely missed twenty nics and even took a longer than normal to make sure that he wouldn’t stink during the date but what was he supposed to wear?

Despite his panicking and fears, Hoseok somehow managed to calm himself down to restlessly sleep that night and was even able to work in the morning. After work though, he was back to panicking. Somehow Hoseok managed to settle for wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans, one of his favorite large shirts with a smile on it, and his long tan jacket.

His whole afternoon bleed into itself and eventually Hoseok found himself sitting on the bench outside of Namjoon’s cafe, a single sunflower held loosely in his hands as he waited for you (he got it at some point between changing into his current clothes and coming here but he didn’t know if he could manage to pinpoint exactly when he had). He barely had enough sense to wear his jacket for when the sun set and it got cold (or if he had to hide in it if you ended up taking him to some fancy restaurant). He would feel so underdressed if you did.

Why would you though?

From what Hoseok understood, you were just coming off of work so you probably wouldn’t want to go to some fancy place. Plus, working in a cafe wasn’t going to get you too much money, even if one’s employer gave them a living wage. You’d probably be a little pressed for money.

If that was an issue though, Hoseok would be more than happy to pay but he wouldn’t care either way.

It also probably wasn’t Hoseok’s place to pry at this time either.

In a last ditch attempt to make sure he was ready for the date, he quickly tried to check his breath with his hand, only getting blasted with air in his face instead. How was he even supposed to check his breath with his hand?

Had his hair got messed up on his trip here?

Had they even agreed to meet here? Maybe you said a different place instead?

Just to check, he looked inside the cafe and didn’t see you there. It was almost seven so maybe you were in the back? Maybe he could just text Namjoon to make sure you were off at seven. Hoseok didn’t want to overstep yet.

“Are you looking for someone in there, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked from beside him, scaring him to the point that he jumped up and almost dropped the sunflower in his hands.

Once he managed to get his bearings again, his breath was taken away by how etheral you looked. There was almost no way that you had come from work, Hoseok was sure of that. Your hair was beautifully and simply styled and your outfit… Hoseok loved every bit of it. His heart fluttered slightly as he looked you over again (barely noticing the reddening blush growing on your face). You looked so good and for the umpteenth time that day, he questioned his own choice in clothes. He might be really underdressed.

Dress pants would have been better to wear instead of jeans. What was he thinking? He really goofed up.

“Y-You look wonderful tonight, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok finally said, blushing lightly as you laughed quietly.

“So do you, Hoseok-ssi.” You complimented, a broad smile on your face as you stepped closer and looked down at the sunflower.

“I… Uhhh… I got this for you. I don’t know what your favorite flower is or if you even like flowers but I thought it would be nice.” He stuttered out, quickly giving the flower to you.

You looked up at Hoseok with a small laugh before saying, “I love it Hoseok-ssi. Shall we get to the restaurant? I got a reservation for seven thirty.”

“A reservation! I guess it is really fancy, huh?” Hoseok asked, rubbing his neck nervously as he started to walk with you.

“No. Not really. It is just popular and I didn’t want to have to spend the night looking for somewhere to eat. I hope you like Haemul Pajeon (vegetable pancake), I got us a reservation at a small place that is just about three blocks down the street. They make wonderful food.”

“I love the sound of that. How’s your day been so far, Y/n-ssi?” Hoseok asked, biting his lip to hide a large smile growing on his face.

Haemul Pajeon was one of his favorite foods… and Y/n was being so considerate. He was feeling so soft and mushy. How dare you make him feel so soft.

He loved it.

“It hasn’t been the best. I worked the morning shift and… well there are always rude customers but morning people have such a strange breed of rude customers.” You had started rambulling, animatedly gesturing and talking about the rude morning customers.

Hoseok simply watched and listened as you kept going on, a content and fuzzy feeling washing over him as he kept waking next to you. Occasionally your shoulders and hands brushed as you expertly led the way to the restaurant while ranting and while it left Hoseok reeling, it didn’t seem to phase you at all. He could live with that though. As long as you were happy.

In the midst of all your rambling about work, the two of you made it to the restaurant. It was at the bottom of a large building, the upper floors likely dedicated to apartments or business offices. Even from the outside, Hoseok could see a large mass of people jostling around in the restaurant. Large friend groups talking and moving around the restaurant drunkenly, couples draped over each other, and restaurant workers expertly weaving through the masses.

It was obviously a popular place and it made Hoseok just a little nervous. How would you and him get to talk much when all that was happening around you two? Maybe it would be more of a people watching event? One where he only really talked when it came to theories about other’s lives outside of this restaurant.

There wasn’t too much time to think though as the two quickly started walking inside. You only stopped talking after introducing yourself to the hostess. In the silence between you two, Hoseok looked around the restaurant. It looked different from the outside. Whereas earlier it looked as if it would be a party place, now that Hoseok was inside, he could see a semblance of organization to the chaos.

Despite both you and Hoseok not talking, there wasn’t a silence that fell. The whole of the restaurant was lively and filled with a soft amiability that Hoseok really enjoyed.

“Alright. Your reservation is ready. Please follow me.” The hostess said, bowing slightly before turning around and starting to weave through the tables.

Hoseok swallowed his nerves before he started walking in front of you (the three of you had to walk single file because the space was too small to walk side by side) and gently grabbed your hand from behind. People were bumping up against him as he quickly followed behind the hostess but his grip on you didn’t falter. He hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty and that he wasn’t gripping you too hard, but Hoseok was nervous and he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd (or let go of your hand yet).

The table that you had reserved was tucked in a corner and overlooked all of the action happening in the bar. There was a small candle lit between the two of you that flickered gently in the soft breeze created by the fans above. Hoseok liked the spot.

“I just realized,” You started with a laugh once you sat down, “I talked the whole walk here. Silly me. I got carried away. How has your day been so far?”

“I like listening to you talk so it’s ok. As for my day, it has been a good day. I didn’t make any more pottery, but I headed the shop and got some good work done there.” Hoseok started, a large smile on his face as he looked across the table at you.

“Oh! So you’re one of Namjoon’s business friends?”

Hoseok snorted at that. Namjoon did have a lot of business friends at this point.

“Yeah. I think I might be Namjoon’s first business friend though. We met in high school and have been friends since. Back in high school Namjoon wanted to be an astrologer believe it or not.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed!” You laughed, “So what do you do?”

“I am a potter. My shop is just two streets over from the cafe you work at.” Hoseok nodded.

“Own. Namjoon and I are co-owners. I run the front.” You corrected lightly, “How about we look at the menu?”

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s look.” Hoseok nodded along, somewhat caught off guard.

You were the co-owner? It made sense, Hoseok thought as he opened the menu, you looked like she belonged in that cafe. Plus, you were closer to Namjoon’s age than the other baristas' ages. He should have seen it coming.

After a few minutes of looking through the menu Hoseok spoke up, “So… have you figured out what you’re going to get?”

“Yeah. I am thinking of getting Haemul Pajeon with a side of chicken feet. What about you?”

“Uhhh… I think that I am going to get Haemul Pajeon as well but with a side of kimchi. I’m not too hungry today.” Hoseok laughed lightly thinking back to his two large stress induced meals earlier today.

You snorted and laughed lightly before taking a sip of your water, “I get that. Plus, the Haemul Pajeon are quite large. They have great deals.”

Shortly after you two decided, a waiter came by and took your order, and then Hoseok and you were left in amicable silence once again. He was a ball of nerves once again and he had no idea of where to go from here… He wasn’t this anxious when he started dating Minjae… why was it so hard with you? Maybe because he was genuinely interested in you from the start and he was scared of screwing it up. Maybe because he had just spent most of the day fretting over this date and now that it was here, he realized that he didn’t think over the right stuff.

“So,” Hoseok coughed lightly, hoping to clear his throat some, “Do you come to this restaurant often?”

“Not really. I came here the first night I moved into the apartment complex above the cafe but since then I haven’t. I actually came here on my own and just sat at the bar and talked to random strangers. It is amazing to see what conversations one can have when they’re open to it.” You said with a smile as you looked over at the bustling bar space.

“I can imagine. I haven’t gone to bars much so I don’t have such conversations often but I have never had a dull conversation.” Hoseok said wistfully, thinking back to some of the talks that he had when he volunteered to help the homeless back in Gwangju. He wanted to keep up the volunteer work when he moved to Seoul but it simply didn’t happen. He got carried away with his studies and his life and service work simply got put on a backburner.

“Yeah? I doubt that, Hoseok-ssi.” You laughed, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a dull conversation. Not even one with a boring professor?”

Hoseok laughed lightly and shrugged, “I mean, I guess you could count some of those conversations as dull. I guess I was more thinking about general conversations with people… not cardboard cutouts.”

You snorted at this before taking a large sip of your water, blush rising quickly on your face. A sense of pride washed over Hoseok at your reaction. He had made you laugh. It felt good to make someone smile this much.

“I loved most of my professors, don’t get me wrong. They were amazing, but oh my gosh. Ask Namjoon about Professor Gaewon who taught our Stat 240. He was such a snore.” Hoseok started animatedly, smiling as you laughed again, “Even for me and I double majored in Statistics and Business. Dude could put me to sleep in seconds. Lecture or not. I went to one of his office hours once and it was even worse.”

“Oh really?” You asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrows and looking at him with a lopsided grin.

“Oh yeah! I wanted to know a little more information about some complicated statistic and the details and whatnot, nerdy stuff really. He got so excited but you couldn’t tell because he talked in such a monotone voice,” Hoseok smiled brightly before he started mimicking Professor Gaewon, “This statistic, blah blah blah. It is interesting stuff.”

You were laughing uncontrollably at this point and Hoseok couldn’t help but indulge in the butterflies that fluttered wildly in his stomach. This was amazing.

“Needless to say, I didn’t go to his office hours after that.”

You nodded, “I didn’t have anything like that in college. I mean, I was also not a business major and didn’t have to take any stat classes but I mostly got a lot of very pretentious professors who had written books or wild professors who I loved. I didn’t enjoy the former.” You laughed lightly and shook your head, “They seemed to think that they knew everything. It was painful.”

“Oh? What’d you major in?”

“I double majored in Literature and History. I love it. Don’t use it much with my work but that is ok.” You said, coming to a stop when the waitress came with sides for the food.

You and Hoseok slightly bowed to the waiter before turning back to each other and smiling. For a couple minutes, the conversation died down and the noise of the restaurant around you two filled the air as both of you indulged in the sides. Before you and Hoseok had time to continue conversing, the waiter returned and gave both of you your Haemul Pajeon and the two of you dug in All throughout eating, the two of you made comments about how the Haemul Pajeon compared to what you two had had in the past.

Somehow, all the time in the restaurant blurred together and before he even knew it, the two of them were back at Namjoon’s and your cafe. It had closed by now, the windows dark and reflecting the party life outside.

“Well… this was a great night, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, swaying forwards and backwards with a soft and happy smile plastered across your face.

Hoseok felt giddy looking at you. How did he get so lucky to have you ask him out?

“It was. I would love to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah.” You giggled and bit your lip as you asked.

“Yeah.” Hoseok nodded, biting his own lip as he took a step closer to you.

You took a step closer to him as well, your smile growing as you reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s waist. He leaned closer at this and gently pressed his lips against yours, you quickly reciprocating. His hands rose to cup your face as the kiss got heated, soon enough tongues starting to intertwine.

A moan left him as you broke the kiss, a sly smile spreading on your face, “You may have to work for my phone number first, Hoseok-ssi.”

He groaned quietly and smiled, his hands sliding down your soft face to your shoulders, “Well then, can I get your number then, Y/n-ssi?”

You took a step away from Hoseok and giggled as his hands fell to his sides, “Nope. Try again tomorrow… then I will consider. Until then, good night, Hoseok-ssi.”

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holylangdon · 5 years

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hi, welcome to the masterlist! please keep in mind that as of mid-2019, i am currently on hiatus! however, i will post ahs content again someday :) if you like my writing and want to read more stuff, my multifandom/non-ahs blog is @mhysaisamaster :)

also! warning! fluff is not tagged! i forgot to do that when i originally made this masterlist. oops. maybe it will get fixed in the future.

♡ love, michael (1, 2, 3, 4): michael langdon’s wife finds out that he’s been cheating on her. she wants answers and probably some time apart, but only after a final hoorah with her (potentially ex-) husband.

☁ let’s talk about death: tate’s best friend is dead and it’s his fault. they discuss it, angst ensues. my first imagine.

♡ love me like you do: tate has a crush on violet’s twin sister, y/n harmon. he confesses and it all leads to some smut.

about a girl: a new girl moves into the murder house. tate shrugs her off as a preppy kid but decides to go through her stuff to investigate. turns out, she likes nirvana. he likes her.

pregnancy: tate and his girlfriend are expecting a baby.

☁ all apologies: tate’s childhood best friend decides to visit the murder house years after his death. tate finds her crying and doesn’t recognize her. she tries to jog his memory.

kiss it better: tate’s girlfriend has been having horrible nightmares and stops sleeping so he tries to help her.

♡ i wanna be yours: tate’s an artist who needs supplies and his girlfriend is annoyed and wants to sleep. he decides that sex is a good middle ground. very kinky.

breed: tate meets a pretty girl at a nirvana concert and loves the sweet, sweet feeling of acceptance.

count me in: tate’s twin sister is in love with violet too. may the best twin win...?

♡ stop the world, i wanna get off with you: tate goes to his neighbor’s house, the one he has a crush on, to run an errand for his mom. she answers the door in a pair of tiny shorts. later, he can't stop thinking about it and decides to relieve himself.

something in the way: the reader is a ghost and helps tate through his transition, which he mistakes as her liking him. he confesses.

past lives: the reader’s friends convince her to use an ouija board in her room, which is where the infamous westfield high shooter died twenty years ago.

♡ electric love: tate wants to try a little something new in the bedroom.

♡ goodnight & go: the reader, who is tate’s best friend, is a virgin. on a late night whim, she admits this to him and says she’d like someone special to take her virginity. tate sees his opportunity... and he takes it.

the emotion: the reader moves into the muder house, and charles seems to take a liking to her.

♡ female robbery: violet’s dad is out of town, and her mom is giving her some space. she decides to go down on her girlfriend.

youth: kyle spencer finds the reader in hiding from the frat party going on downstairs with his pet cat, tara.

♡ shape of you: kyle meets a girl at a college bar and they have sex in the bathroom.

nine in the afternoon: kyle spencer decides to curb the study fatigue with a fun little game of hide and seek.

♡ what you need: kyle decides to skip class and comes home to the sound of moaning coming from his room. who could it be?

girls like me: the reader is having a particularly bad day with her scoliosis. kyle comes home and spends the day with her.

overnight sensation: the reader’s friend drags her to klg’s end of year party and she soon gets uncomfortable. eventually, she finds her way to kyle spencer’s quiet bedroom, where kyle finds her. they proceed to go on instagram and make fun of the people partying downstairs.

♡ i didn't just kiss her: the reader breaks up with her boyfriend when she realizes she’s in love with kyle. safe to say, he shares the same feelings.

☁ will he: an angsty fic based on the song by joji. kyle cheats on his girlfriend and finds himself remembering the better times that you shared together.

electric feel: kyle takes the reader to the fair on a date and somehow convinces her to face her fears and go on a carnival ride that she fears.

if that’s not love: kyle spencer gets drunk and the reader, who happens to be cordelia’s baby sister, sneaks him into the academy. as he sobers up, the reader admits that she’s in love with him.

strangers: a songfic based on the song by halsey. delia begins to have second thoughts about dating one of her students after madison catches them in bed together.

☁ it takes time: when michael langdon admits to cheating on cordelia’s daughter, his fiancé, she goes back home to the academy to heal.

☁ no tears left to cry: cordelia says goodbye to her daughter as she places her under an identity spell with mallory and coco.

♡ stars: misty day takes the reader’s virginity under the stars.

the remedy for a broken heart: years after misty gets trapped in hell, michael langdon performs the seven wonders for the council (and misty’s girlfriend). cordelia asks for him to conquer hell and retrieve the girl.

♡ drops of jupiter: jimmy takes the reader’s virginity.

♡ kisses in the wind: jimmy wakes his baby girl up with morning sex on a lazy sunday morning.

jealousy: james’ girlfriend goes to visit an old friend at the murder house on all hallows eve.

ready or not: james’ girlfriend sees another woman flirting with him, so she kills her. james may or may not enjoy watching.

☁ good mourning: james falls in love with a flapper who performs at the hotel. on new years, someone kills her.

♡ lust for life: james makes the startling discovery that his longtime partner is a killer, just like him.

angel on fire: the countess and donovan find a newly-transitioned afflicted with three dead bodies in the hotel. they take her is as their “daughter,” of sorts.

come as you are: the reader meets donovan at the cortez.

let it go: winter comforts the reader on election night after the results are announced.

♡ flesh to flesh: after oz goes to sleep, winter runs a nice bath for her girlfriend. things turn sexual.

♡ moonlit majesty: winter comes home slightly drunk and very horny. she also has a mommy kink.

♡ little hell: after a very sexually charged interview, michael just can’t resist showing up at the reader’s room at midnight.

the michael thing for kyra: very, very fluffy outpost!michael that i wrote for a friend of mine.

♡ hell is too close: the reader is a demon that used to be michael’s accomplice with benefits and now resides in outpost three. he realizes that he needs her, and after a particularly wonderful harvest of the blood moon, they can’t help but go back to their old ways.

do you wonder: after young!michael confesses his feelings for his best friend and things get passionate between them, he pulls away and doesn’t continue. things are a little tense between them until they talk it out, which results in some extreme fluff.

♡ dealing with the devil: the reader is a witch who was chosen to survive at the outpost. in her interview, michael senses something dark about her and threatens her with a knife. well, she has a blood kink.

♡ to hell with the devil: michael finds out that the reader is a virgin and can’t resist the idea of absolutely ruining her purity, but slowly. his plans go down the drain when her hears her sweet little moans for the first time.

♡ pleaser: priest michael langdon knows about a member of his congregation’s sexual fantasies about him. and now, he wants to see her. privately.

strange magic: the reader is the daughter of warlock john henry moore, and he’s asked her to teach the new student, michael, some things about magic.

cling to me: witch!reader comforts michael after the grocery store incident thinking he’s a warlock. she doesn’t intend to stick around, but feels some strange bond to him.

♡ first wonder (MALE!READER): michael is a new student at the hawthorne school and quickly forms feelings for a boy there. later, in his room, he lets his thoughts wander south.

just looking at the world: the night before michael is set to perform the seven wonders, he comforts his girlfriend, who isn’t sure he’ll make it out alive.

you’re somebody else: when michael langdon wanders into the underground church of satan, the girl sitting next to him decides to take him home for a shower and a good meal.

from eden: michael hates christmas parties with a burning passion, but when he hears that his sorta-kinda-girlfriend is coming, he can't resist attending. he takes her back to his room where it’s quiet so they can talk, and she ends up confessing that she loves him.

♡ say amen: another priest!au, but this time michael wants the reader to pray for him. things get really dirty really fast until he’s making her beg for his cum on her face.

♡ moment’s silence: the world is ending and you can’t do anything but watch it burn until michael sends his cooperative henchmen to collect you. next thing you know, you’ve woken up to the one and only antichrist standing before you.

♡ bedroom hymns: michael’s gone vanilla. he’s not happy when you point it out and punishment ensues.

♡ dinner and diatribes: michael gets pegged at a dinner party. very fem!dom. you’re welcome.

sweet creature: you sold your soul and married satan to bring your lover back from death. after a series of unfortunate events, michael langdon is now in possession of your soul after his father told him you’d be perfect by his side. he can’t help but agree.

house of the rising sun: mallory’s roommate at miss robichaux’s has a crush on her, but mallory doesn't realize. when she notices her growing distant, she pushes a little too far and she snaps, confessing her feelings.

santa baby: violet and her girlfriend decorate her bedroom for christmas.

what a wonderful world: kit, his partner, jude & the kids spend christmas morning together.

♡ baby, you’re a haunted house: michael takes his girlfriend to a haunted house, but they’re forced to leave when things get a little too real. he takes her back to the car to calm her down, but things get heated rather quickly.

♡ psycho killer: michael and his girlfriend are handing out candy and watching scary movies on halloween night. when he gets bored with the blair witch project, she decides to take matters into her own hands. sadly, the two of them keep getting interrupted by trick or treaters.

♡ drunk on halloween: the reader attends la’s hottest halloween party alone after michael declines her plus-one invitation. he tries to get her not to go because he has a bad feeling. later, he steps in to stop a creep who tries to grope her, having followed her to make sure she didn’t get into trouble. he takes her to a private room and things go in that direction.

nearly witches: mallory and her girlfriend go to a halloween festival in the french quarter together to celebrate her favorite holiday.

* christmas at the cortez

* halloween with misty

* the evans throwing a christmas party

* sex with tate langdon

* violet forgiving tate

* pre-death tate asking the reader out

* tate’s so being a witch

* small things tate does for his s/o

* dating pre-death tate langdon

* getting high with tate langdon

* poly relationship with tate and violet

* sex with nora montgomery (fem!reader)

* sex with nora montgomery (male!reader)

* dating charles montgomery

* sex with kit walker

* dating kit walker

* sex with lana winters

* dating lana winters

* non-possessed mary eunice having a crush on a patient

* mary eunice having a taller s/o

* sex with pre-death kyle spencer

* dating pre-death kyle spencer

* pre-death kyle spencer and boobs

* kyle’s frat brother walking in during sex

* poly relationship with kyle and zoe

* sex with post-death kyle spencer

* couples costumes with pre-death Kyle spencer

* first time spanking with kyle spencer

* dating cordelia goode

* dating madison montgomery

* dating misty day

* sex with jimmy darling

* dating jimmy darling

* jimmy dating a shy girl

* jimmy dating someone with scars on their face

* sex with dandy mott

* being elsa mars’ daughter

* dating james march

* james march as a teenager

* marrying james march

* james’ so being a famous singer

* james’ so getting drunk at the bar

* james finding out his so is pregnant

* james’ so finding his back scars

* sex with donovan

* donovan turning his so

* sex with sally mckenna

* sex with tristan duffy

* dating tristan duffy

* wedding and honeymoon with tristan

* dating rory monahan

* sex with kai anderson

* dating kai anderson

* dating winter anderson

* nsfw alphabet with michael langdon

* sex with michael langdon

* dating michael langdon

* michael falling in love with a human

* virgin michael langdon

* michael giving oral

* how they sound in bed

* the evans: taking their partner’s virginity

* the evans: what they would dress up as for halloween

* the evans: on halloween w/ their so

* the evans: what tattoos they would have

* the evans: how they would wake their partner up

* the evans: reacting to their partner fighting someone

* the evans: playing tag with them

* the evans: throwing a christmas party

violence - pre-death tate langdon

the cigarette duet - violet harmon

unchained melody - lana winters

season of the witch - zoe benson

heartbreak hotel - the countess

antichrist - michael langdon

#masterlist

1K notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Rising from the Ashes (10/?)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Thank you to @theonceoverthinker for taking the time to write an incredible fic recommendation for this story! 10 Reasons Why You Should be Reading Rising from the Ashes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read it!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Tag list: @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64

“We need to get dressed,” Emma whispers to him, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t unwrap her arm from his waist or move her cheek away from where it’s pressed into his chest, right over the beat of his heart. He wouldn’t normally think of that, but he knows that she has to feel how quickly it’s beating right now.

It could beat out of his chest.

“We need to talk.”

“I know,” she admits, twisting her head and smattering kisses against his chest, against all of the skin and scars and hair that reside there. It feels so damn good to have her pressed up against him again, and he never wants it to stop. He never wants to let go. “And this is such a crappy thing to do, but we probably have to put it off until tonight. We’ve got…it’s not going to be easy, and I don’t think we can get it done before Ada wakes up.”

She makes a good point. He hates that for a few moments he forgot their daughter, but she wasn’t exactly what was on his mind while he was having sex with her mother. That’s how she was created, but still. His mind had been lost in the emotion of it all, in the emotion and ecstasy of having Emma back in his arms. It was his fault that she’d left, but he’s slowly making his way back to realizing that he never should have done that. And it’s not a flittering thought followed by the argument, the contrasting thoughts keeping him in an unescapable limbo. It’s what he thinks and how he feels. He can’t not have his partner back by his side, but he knows that they need to talk, that it’s not all solved.

They just can’t have this talk right now.

“Why don’t we clean up a bit, get dressed, and then grab Ada before heading back downstairs to sit with Neal for a little while, though I really want to talk about some of the stuff you said about him earlier. That’s – it was fucked up, and we’re not going to ghost over it.”

“Later,” she promises, and he knows that she means it. They’re finished not talking things through. That’s not them, and they’re going to fix it, fix them. “We’ll talk about everything later. You can make a list on your phone since I know that you want to.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but it feels so damn good for you to be teasing me again.”

“It does,” she sighs, kissing up his neck and his jaw before she briefly brushes her lips over his, vibrations moving all the way down to his toes. “I’m going to fix my hair and, well, my face and change back into my old clothes, okay? I don’t really want Neal to know that we weren’t just talking.”

“Swan, I think he knows that we’ve had sex.”

She groans before rolling off of the bed, the soft curves of her skin on full display to him as she picks up clothes from the floor, tossing his back to him before she disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her while the water of the sink runs. He’s not entirely sure that he can get up now, not with the lingering ecstasy and the slight shake in his limbs. He’s got more thoughts running through his mind than before, which he always thought was an impossibility. There’s so much to say, so much to unpack.

So little time and yet all of the time in the world in front of him.

Slowly, he gets up and off the bed as well, finding one of Ada’s baby wipes and cleaning himself up before he gets dressed, straightening up his clothes and his hair while looking into the mirror to make sure that nothing is too messed up. His collarbone is a little red from Emma’s lips and teeth, but the collar of his shirt covers it anyways. It’s been a hell of a long time since they had to hide the fact that they had sex from an adult. Henry? Sure. But someone over the age of thirty, not so much. It’s idiotic, but it’s also the slightest bit thrilling.

Even in his head he knows that’s immature, that it’s petty. He and Neal aren’t in some kind of competition to win Emma. She’s not a prize to be won. Her heart can be won, but only with her permission, and he’s lucky enough to have gained that a long time ago.

-/-

“It’s like a swampland out here,” Emma complains as they walk back to her apartment, Henry in between them with his hands in each of theirs. “We have got to find another public pool.”

“I like that pool, Momma.”

“I know, Henry,” she sighs before letting go of Henry’s hand to grab the key so she can unlock the front door. The lad is dragging a bit, so he picks him up and rests him on his hip. He’s getting bigger, but it’ll be years before Killian can’t carry him anymore. Or at least until he can’t carry him for long distances. “We had a fun day today, didn’t we? Killian taught you how to dive.”

“I was like a fish,” Henry shouts, throwing his hands up in the air so that he has to dodge to keep from getting punched by a kid. “Did you see me look like a fish, Killy?”

“I did, lad,” he promises, hoisting Henry up a little more while they finally get back into the apartment. “You did so well, even when you almost lost your swim trunks.”

“That was funny.”

“Indeed it was.”

“Alright, we’ve got to get you in the bathtub so that you can be a clean fish,” Emma tells them as she puts the tote bags they brought to the pool with them down in the entryway, sand likely somehow in them despite the pool only having the one sand pit play area.

“I’m already clean.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am,” Henry huffs, and he braces himself for the tantrum that is inevitably going to come. It usually does on long days like this, and he was wondering when it was going to happen. “I don’t want a bath.”

“You’re taking a bath,” Emma says flatly, rolling her eyes a bit before she takes Henry out of his arms despite the squirming that’s happening. He could knock teeth out with those limbs. “Babe, do you want to find something for dinner while I handle the sea monster?”

“Are you sure, love? I can help.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she promises, her lips forming in a soft smile while Henry’s protests get a little louder. Emma’s mood is about to sour because of this, but he already knows that she’s going to get it all done by herself. She’s a wonderful mum, a super one really, and as much as he’s been a part of Henry’s life for years, it’s only in the past four months that he’s truly gotten to see much more of what Emma goes through being a parent. She told him before, let him help before, but he finds that when he wakes up at three in the morning because Henry’s had a bad dream and needs to tell his mum about it, he really gets to see the intimacy and trust Emma and Henry share.

Being with Emma, really and honestly being with her, since May has been one of the greatest things to ever happen to him, if not the greatest. She’s so bloody wonderful, and getting to show and tell her that is a great honor to him. He loves her more than anything, and even if they haven’t said it yet, he’s thankful to love and to be loved in return.

He’s forever thankful that he gets to be a part of Emma and Henry’s lives even when he can hear Henry having a meltdown from the bathroom.

The kid has some lungs on him.

While Emma is bathing Henry, he pulls the chicken out of the fridge and chops it up so he can make fajitas for them. It’s quick, easy, and they can give Henry the chicken without worrying about him spilling it or not liking it. The lad’s a rather picky eater, and he probably gets that from Emma. He didn’t go out to eat a lot with Neal, the two of them mostly staying at the gym or in bars, but he doesn’t remember him ever not liking anything. He usually liked just about everything. Maybe Henry will be like that someday.

He turns on the stove and drops some chopped up onions and peppers in the pan before adding the chicken, listening to it sizzle as the cries from the bathroom calm down. Henry’s either worn himself out, the day in the sun finally getting to him, or Emma’s struck some kind of fear into the lad with one of her stares. He’d bet it’s that the kid is tired, but he doesn’t know.

Twenty minutes later he’s got the food all set up on the counter, Henry’s plate already fixed, and Emma and Henry walk down the hallways and turn into the kitchen. Henry’s already got on his new Ninja Turtles pajamas, and his hair is lying flat on his head while it dries. Emma looks like she’s run a marathon today, and he knows that they’re going to be in bed the moment Henry is asleep.

Dinner goes without too much issue. Henry is definitely still in a mood, but he’s not flinging food anywhere or screaming, so honestly, he takes it as a win for today. Sometimes it’s the small things. But within the hour, he and Emma have Henry in bed, having read him a story and tucked him in, and just like he thought, the moment Emma gets to her room, she collapses on her mattress, spreading out like a starfish.

“Why do we take him to do fun things when it ends like that?” she moans, the tiredness seeping through every word.

“Because it’s nice when he’s not tired.”

“I don’t remember. I’ve blocked all happiness out for the disaster was giving him a bath.”

He hums as he takes off the shorts he’s had on all day and grabs the pajama pants that he keeps over here, pulling them up and letting them rest on his hips while he sheds his shirt and tosses it into Emma’s hamper. They didn’t talk about him staying over tonight, but he has every night this week. He doubts tonight will be any different.

“Well, darling,” he sighs, walking over to her and leaning down above her so that he can brush his lips over hers, nipping at her upper lip with his teeth, “you shouldn’t do that. Henry had a grand time today, you too, and you should remember that.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Are you going to throw your own fit?”

“Yes,” she huffs, and he brushes his lips over hers again before moving up her face and ending at her forehead, the awkwardness of kissing her upside down fading the slightest bit. “It’s my life, and I can whine if I want to.”

“That’s not how the song goes.”

“It’s how my song goes.” She rolls over on the bed and over to what he’s come to know as her side before he sits down on the mattress, getting himself comfortable before Emma leans over and wraps her arms around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for being awesome today and every day really. I know dating me likely wasn’t your life plan.”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” he sighs, threads his fingers into the ends of her hair and brushes through the tangles that have gathered from a day in the pool. “I think I signed up for this a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but that was back before Henry could talk while he was throwing fits. Back then it was just incoherent screaming.”

“Swan, I promise I don’t mind. I love you both, and I will listen to the fits as much as I have to.” Emma tenses under his touch, her entire body going still and her arms tightening around his waist. He’s not sure what’s just happened, so he timidly looks down at Emma, using his free hand to tilt her chin up at him. “What’s got you so tense?”

“Nothing,” she lies.

“Would you like to try that again?”

“I d-don’t – ” she stutters, her eyes closing before they open back up again. “Did you just say that you love me?”

“I – ” Oh hell, he did. He wasn’t going to do it that way. He was going to let Emma say it first, let her take the lead. Their entire relationship is complicated, even with how well they work together, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. He’s the first person she’s truly been with since Neal, and being in love would be a big deal for her. But he did say it, and he does mean it. And he’s not going to lie to her. “I do love you,” he whispers, running his thumb over the dip in her chin while he softly smiles down at her, his heart steadily beating against his ribcage. “I love Henry too, but I am so in love with you Emma Swan that I could easily run through fields of flowers and swim in that public pool all day to prove it.”

She laughs, and it’s the sweetest of sounds. Really and truly. But then she’s readjusting herself, sitting up in bed and caressing his face, her palms and fingertips moving over his jaw while her eyes study him, trailing everywhere until she’s looking directly at him.

“For someone who is such a suave flirt on a regular basis, you are damn cheesy in the big moments. But I love you, Killian. I really, really do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d run through fields of flowers and swim in public pools to prove it too.”

He barks out a laugh before he’s surging forward and capturing Emma’s lips with his, reveling in the little gasp that she makes. It’s something so delicate, but it also makes all of his flesh break out in bumps, a shiver running down his spine and hitting each of his vertebrae with the happiness and ecstasy of it all.

She bites down on his bottom lip before she soothes it with her tongue, and he growls before leaning forward and pushing her back on the mattress, covering her body with his as they move together in a gentle caress. He hasn’t been this happy in years, and he never wants it to stop.

This woman may very well be the love of his life.

This woman is the love of his life.

He doesn’t care if he’s getting ahead of himself. He’s not. He can’t be, not when they’ve known each other for seven years, not when she’s been his best friend for three, not when he’s been in love with her for over a year now, not when he knows.

“Do we really have to go back to the pool?” Emma mutters when they pull back. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips reddened and a bit swollen, and he can feel her chest move against him, the both of them searching for air. “Or can I prove my love for you in here?”

“However would you do that, my love?”

She hums for a moment while her fingers comb through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. “Well, I could fuck your brains out, but that could get messy. So I was kind of thinking that you’d be willing to watch a movie with me that I’m inevitably going to fall asleep watching.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

-/-

“Do I look freshly fucked?” Emma jokes when she comes out of the bathroom, everything just the same as it was before they came up here to talk. Her eyes are still red rimmed, the slightest bit puffy, but she looks like Emma.

She looks happy.

“You look beautiful.”

Her lashes flutter down against her cheeks before she starts messing with the hem of her sweater while pulling up the waistband of her leggings. “Thank you. I’m going to go check on Ada, okay? Why don’t you go down and finish watching whatever cop show you were watching with Neal?”

“Live PD.”

“I didn’t really need to know.”

“And yet I told you anyways.”

She scoffs before shaking her head and walking toward the door the door, opening it and walking out of the room. He’s just about to follow her when he sees the blue velvet box on the floor. Slowly, he picks it up, thumbing at the material before he sits back down on the bed, the mattress soft under him as his heart gets stuck in his throat.

Emma was never supposed to find this.

He was supposed to take her to the coast. They were going to go to dinner, just the two of them like they enjoy doing to have time to themselves, and then he was going to guide her out to the shore and to the lighthouse. It’s pretty touristy, but no one goes in the winter months, the chill too cold. He and Emma have been out there by the water more times than he can count since they moved here, and nowhere else seemed quite right. Really, nowhere.

Maybe he could do it with the kids. Maybe in the backyard with bulb lights strung up in the trees and over the patio. They’ve never been one for big romantic gestures. They’ve always been two people who simply needed and wanted to know that they were loved by the fact that someone was there to hold their hand while waiting on a pregnancy test or to hear about a promotion at work or a dodgy medical report. It’s always been about the little things, the tiny shows of support every day. It’s never been about a bed full of rose petals or dinners that they can’t afford. He can understand the romance of that. He did before he was with Emma. But they’re different. They always have been.

But now he doesn’t know. Now he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to propose or even if he should propose despite the future that he knows they have. They need time to heal. It hasn’t just been a rough two and a half weeks. It’s been a rough three months, and as much as he believes in them, they have some work to do.

Besides, they might not be about the big gestures of romance, but Emma deserves a proposal that’s more than him asking her because she found the ring. She deserves something better, even if he knows they’d be perfectly happy no matter how it happens.

They’re going to be fine. Their lives are getting back on track, and he can’t wait. They may be taking the scenic route, but they’re getting there.

It’s what he’s done all his life regardless. He’s thirty seven years old, and he’s still got so much to figure out and so much to do.

Rising from the bed, he quickly walks into the closet and puts the ring back in his uniform before lifting the chair and taking it back to its rightful place in the corner of the room. He’s not exactly sure what Emma was doing with the chair, but he’ll ask her later.

After he’s gone downstairs to spend some time with Neal.

“You missed the most ridiculous case,” Neal laughs when he walks into the room and settles down on the loveseat instead of the recliner, propping his feet up on the ottoman. “This man had an alligator in the back of his truck that climbed out of the back and got on the highway.”

“Was it in Florida?”

“Obviously. It was insane. He had narcotics with him as well, but that stuff is batshit crazy. I remember a couple of years ago, there was this news article about a man who was attacked by an alligator while he was hiding from the cops. It was insane.”

Killian’s about to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but instead he closes his lips and keeps quiet. There’s something off about what Neal just said. It’s another outrageous story that matches up with this one, but Killian remembers that. He remembers because his boss had known the cop in the story. It was some distant connection, like his brother-in-law’s sister’s husband, but he’d still known the man. And if his boss knew about it and talked to him about it, that meant the story couldn’t be older than two years.

How the hell does Neal know a story that was two years old? He shouldn’t have had any access to the news. Maybe he’d read it in his effort to keep up with current events. Why he was reading about wild news in Florida, he has no idea. He’s not sure that it’s a mystery he wants to solve. He might simply be into pop culture more than he is actual news. Killian can’t blame him. The actual news is rather depressing.

Then again, so is reading about some celebrities.

“Ooh, look at the lights, Ada bug,” Emma coos as she walks into the room with Ada on her hip, her hand pointing at the tree. He has never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life, and he has to swallow the gulp that’s stuck in his throat. “Didn’t your daddy and Henry do such a good job at decorating? I mean, obviously Mommy did all of the work, but we’ll let them have some credit.”

“What about me?”

“And Neal. Neal also helped make everything special for your first Christmas.”

Emma plops down next to him on the sofa, and he wraps his arm around her shoulder, tugging her in closer while his fingers mess with the tips of her hair. It feels good to be able to be affectionate with her again. He doesn’t ever want to give it up.

God, he was a jackass. He thought he was being honorable and doing a good thing, but he was a jackass.

He could hold his girls forever.

“Hello, darling,” he whispers to Ada, reaching over with his free hand to bop her nose, which always makes her dissolve into a fit of giggles. He thinks she rather likes the attention. “Would you like to watch people get arrested in real time?”

“You two are great influences.”

“Never said I was one,” Neal shrugs, a playful smile tugging at his lips even behind the glass he’s holding. “She’s a calm baby. Was Henry like that, Ems?”

“Sometimes, but Ada is almost seven months. They’ve calmed a bit by then if they’re not teething. When they’re newborns, it’s a little more insane. Henry was pretty good, but you were there for a few of the nights. You know how much he could wail.”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s kind of hard to remember. I guess I blocked it out and just thought of the good memories.”

“That’s probably a good thing. No one wants to think about the wails of a baby too much. He loved his tummy time, though, which is weird because Ada used to hate it. So I don’t know. It really depended on the day and if I had help or not.”

“Yeah,” Neal sighs, looking over at them for a moment, his gaze staying on Emma before he sees it flicker to Killian’s arm around her shoulder for a brief moment. It doesn’t last long before he’s back staring at the television.

“Are you okay, Neal?” Emma questions, straightening her back out.

“I’m fine, Ems. I’m just thinking about all that I missed. You don’t have to say you’re sorry. You couldn’t have changed any of it, and I’m glad I’m here now. I never thought I would be, and this is – this is everything to me.”

“It’s everything to us too,” he promises for both he and Emma, not wanting her to have to find the words when he knows that she’s struggling over her feelings for Neal. He squeezes her arm before he runs his hand up and down her bicep and onto her shoulder, trying to comfort her as much as he can. They’ve both been on emotional rollercoasters today. This morning he’d woken up with a pain in his neck and in his chest before taking Ada for a walk and to the grocery store. He had no idea that by this evening he and Emma would be tentatively working on things, that they might not be as broken.

He can’t imagine all of the thoughts that must have gone through her mind leading up to everything. Hopefully he’ll get a glimpse of them later so that she doesn’t bottle them all up inside.

“Thank you,” Emma whispers, resting her head on his shoulder.

It’s not a problem at all. All he wants is to be able to support her and be there for her.

He should have never stopped.

The next hour is spent watching television and laughing at the ridiculousness of everything that’s on screen. He and Emma have to trade off playing with Ada and keeping her entertained even though she’s mostly happy to move around in her bouncer. It’s one of the lightest nights he’s had since Neal came home, and he’s glad for it as the three of them fall back into old patterns like when they were younger – just with a few differences.

When Henry gets home from ice skating with Avery, they let him talk about how good of a time he had and how funny it was watching Avery’s mum fall on the ice. He’s sure that was bloody painful, but Henry’s eight. Painful things are funny when they’re not happening to him. But eventually they have to put he and Ada to bed. Neal hasn’t quite gotten the practical parts of being a parent down so he usually stays away from nighttime routines, but that works for he and Emma because the moment he closes Henry’s door and Emma closes Ada’s (because she’s actually in her nursery tonight instead of their room), he and Emma walk into their bedroom and shut the door behind them without having to worry about making excuses.

It’s only nine, Ada up a little later from her nap, but it’s still too early for them to be getting away with going to bed.

They’re doing it anyhow.

“So,” Emma starts, reaching up underneath her sweater and pulling her bra off before putting it in the hamper.

“So,” he echoes, unzipping his jeans and tossing them in as well before he heads into the closet and pulls a pair of pajama pants off the shelf, tossing Emma her own pair, “we need to talk.”

“I find when a man tells me that it rarely means something good, and we’ve been saying it a lot.”

“I think it’ll be good,” he shrugs, stepping into his pants. “I think we’ll clear the air, and then we won’t have all of this extra stuff weighing down on us.”

“I like that idea.”

“Thought you would.” He clicks his tongue as he takes the few steps to the bed so that he can sit down at the foot of it while he takes a few deep breaths, trying to regulate himself. This is a bit terrifying. “I’m sorry, Emma. I don’t – you remember how much we struggled when we first got together, right? We had both said it was okay to move on from our pasts, from Neal’s death, but then when we moved on together – ”

“It was hard,” she finishes, tossing her leggings to the side before she curls up in the arm chair. It’s her favorite spot to sit in the room when she’s trying not to be lazy. If she gets in the bed or on the window seat, there’s a pretty good chance she falls asleep, especially recently. Nursing is hard on her, and it nearly always wipes her out. “I felt so guilty sometimes. I loved you, wanted to be with you, and I always thought, you know, Neal would be happy we had each other. But it still sometimes felt wrong.”

“Exactly, love. So imagine that except intensified. I know that you were here, that you had your own feelings on the matter, but, Emma, it was so damn hard being with you when I thought that I didn’t have any right to.”

“How could you think that? I love you. You’re my…you’re my family.”

“Aye, I know, I know,” he mutters, tapping his fingers against his knee while he focuses on his breathing. This is harder to articulate than he thought it would be, and looking at the brokenness on Emma’s face doesn’t help. “I know that. You’re my family. You and the kids are my entire world. I have nothing without you all. I just,” he croaks, tears stinging behind his eyes despite every attempt for them not to, “I felt like I didn’t deserve to be with you, for you to love me when the man you loved first was right there back from the dead. I know that first loves don’t have to be only loves. That’s ridiculous thinking. But you never chose to stop loving Neal. He was taken from you.”

He watches Emma nod her head up and down before she’s crossing her arms over her chest and reaching up to mess with her necklace. Even when she was pissed at him, she didn’t take it off. He always felt such comfort in that even if he was reading too much into it.

“I know, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair that Neal was captured, that he’s been through hell, that our family was split up. It’s not fair, nothing about it, and I have beat myself up over it for eight years. We need to look into therapy, by the way. For, um, Henry. And possibly for me. I think it might be nice to have a professional to talk to because my emotional whiplash is insane.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, love,” he promises, looking up at her and smiling, giving her the constant reassurance that her vulnerability is good thing. “I’m not sure how much Henry will love it, but I have been so worried about him, especially after yesterday. We have no idea what else is happening that he’s keeping from us.”

“I can’t believe that happened. I can’t believe there are moms at that school calling me a whore, let alone saying it in front of their kids. That’s so messed up.”

“It’s fucked up,” he chuckles, not really sure what else to say. He hasn’t stopped fuming about it. He could punch a wall, but he knows not to, to try to channel his anger other places. Usually it’s in his runs. He needs to go running Monday morning. “We’ve gone through enough guilt over everything. We sure as hell don’t need people saying wrong, hurtful things about our family. People get divorced, people break up. Not everyone gets married and stays married to the same person. Not everyone has all of their children with one person. There’s just…there’s so much wrong with all of that, and I hope you didn’t take any of it to heart.”

“I’ve dealt with enough mean moms not to,” she shrugs before reaching down into the basket next to her and pulling out a blanket to wrap around her body. “But, yeah, um, we can talk about therapy later when we can look into it. I don’t – Killian, I understand your mindset. I understand that your mom and Liam raised you to be an honorable guy, that you are one, but I want to know why you couldn’t understand that you’re my family too. You had to have known that us taking a break, that it would kill me. My chest literally felt like I’d been stabbed for days on end.”

His chest feels like he’s been stabbed right now.

“I did. I watched you break down. I watched you sob like I haven’t seen in years, but I felt like I had to. My mind was so confused, so muddled, and I felt like I needed to take a step back to figure out what was happening, to possibly give you and Henry a chance at happiness.”

“My love,” Emma croaks, wiping away the tears that haven’t fallen from her eyes yet, “you make us happy. I don’t know how many times I can say this before you fully get it, but you are my family, our family. You are the only dad Henry has ever known until now. Yeah, he knew about Neal, but he didn’t know him. Now he gets that opportunity, which is so wonderful, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who has always been his dad. And now he gets two. That’s a good thing. That’s not a bad thing.”

She’s right. Of course she’s right. He’s been so confused, so idiotic, and if he had been smart enough to talk to Emma, to talk to Liam, to talk to someone, maybe he could have figured some of that out without causing everyone this much pain.

Never again. He’s not going to let this happen ever again.

Same team.

“You’re right.”

“He can love you both, and while a part of me will always love Neal, I don’t want to be with him. I’ve grown and changed. When we were together, Neal and I, I was young and naïve and craving someone to make me feel loved. I had Ruth and David, but the orphan in me convinced me that I needed some other kind of validation, that I needed someone else to love me. So when this older guy came around, one who was in a uniform and charming and who made me laugh, I felt this instant connection to him.”

“You guys were good together,” he admits, smiling a bit to himself thinking about it.

“We had our moments, but looking back, a lot of our relationship was screwed up. We were both adults, but there was a power imbalance. I wasn’t as sure of myself as I am now. I didn’t know any better. When…when I told Neal that I was pregnant,” she whispers, her voice suddenly quiet even though he knows what happens next, has already heard her say the words today, “he wasn’t happy. I don’t know. It’s, like, it’s almost like he didn’t want the connection with me more than he didn’t want a baby. But I tried to convince myself otherwise, tried to convince myself that it was just shock, but then he wasn’t around as much. He wasn’t really around at all during my pregnancy. He missed Henry’s birth for training when they told him he could come home from it for the birth. I don’t think I ever felt more distant from him than I did then. And for eight years I thought he was dead.”

His heart has been broken several times in his life. His dad leaving was the first, his mum dying the second, his breakups with Tina and Milah third and fourth, but this right here…listening to Emma talk about these secrets she’s hoarded away for years, this might be the worst. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She hasn’t deserved any of the horrible things that have happened to her since the day she was born and left on fire station steps, but most of all, he thinks that she doesn’t deserve for the people she’s trusted with her heart to break it while it’s still in their hands.

He did the same, even if it was temporary. He did the same.

Never again. He’ll keep thinking it until it’s true. “Emma, why have you never told me this?”

She wipes at her tears again before getting up and quickly crossing the room, plopping down next to him and wrapping her arms around his stomach while her shoulder shake. He can hear her sniffling, and all he knows to do is hold her. She’s opened up her walls enough for him to be the one that gets to comfort her, and it’s not an honor he takes lightly.

He could kill Neal. He won’t, but he could. The bastard went on and on about how devastated he is to have missed Henry’s life when he didn’t even care for him at the beginning. Maybe he’s changed. He’s had a long time to do it. But he can’t imagine what it must be like for her to remember all of this and have to watch him interact with Henry now. Neal has never been a bad guy, but he could be selfish. And this – this is damn selfish.

How could he not have been happy to have a child with Emma? Finding out Emma was pregnant with Ada is one of the great moments of his life, and as much as he tries, as much as he thinks about the circumstances, he can’t understand.

“Because when I got the news that Neal had disappeared, that he had died, I was so devastated. And it’s almost like it wasn’t for me. It was for Henry. He’d never get to know his dad. He’d never do anything like all of the kids he was going to grow up with. So I kind of latched onto what the man told me when he told me Neal died. He told me Neal was a hero, and I convinced myself that if I saw him as this perfect hero, that I could make him be that way for Henry. I could let his dad be a hero. I could let his dad be his hero.” “Sweetheart – ”

“And then he got this chance, you know, this miracle chance to know the man I’d portrayed to him as a hero, and I’m honestly relieved that Neal is so much better now, that he’s changed. Sometimes he can still be selfish, but he’s good for Henry.” “He is,” Killian promises, dipping his head down to brush his lips over the crown of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you went through all that, that you’ve been hiding it away inside. That’s wrong. That never should have happened.”

“I know that now. I know my worth and what it’s like to be supported. You have been the most supportive person in my life. More than David and Ruth and Mary Margaret. So it was devastating to me when I didn’t have that support anymore.”

“It’s not going to happen again. I can assure you. I won’t be such a dumb jackass, as you say.”

He hears her chuckle, the sound the slightest bit watery, before she tilts her head up to look at him, the smallest, softest smile gracing her lips. He’s not sure if her eyes have ever looked this green. “I believe I said you were insufferable.”

“Well that too,” he sighs before dipping his head and kissing the corner of her lips. “I’m dumb and insufferable, and I promise to support you for the rest of my life. I will never stop fighting for us.”

They’re not wedding vows. The ring is still in his uniform pocket, the papers nonexistent at the courthouse, and the question still unasked, but they might as well be. He’s in this for the long haul, and Emma is right beside him, even when their steps might not exactly match up.

Maybe especially then.

#rising from the ashes #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff

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aleapoffaithfiction · 5 years

Text

II.

Sarai Nazaire

“You know what I forgot to get while in the city? A pizza. I kept telling myself over and over again that I needed to order a pizza to the hotel and never did. Don’t get me wrong, we have good pizza spots in Atlanta, but there’s nothing like a New York slice. Being that Jesse’s from Chicago, you know they have their own style out there and we debate all the time about which region has the better pizza, but New York takes it by a landslide. Just don’t tell him that I said that.” I stuck the applicator back into the tube of my MAC “Spite” lipglass while she plopped back against the seat in disappointment for having failed to fulfill her craving. I wish she had of said something last night when she decided to travel over from the city to spend her final night on the East Coast at my house. We ordered a couple of dishes from this local Mexican restaurant that left my stomach in shambles throughout the night. I still feel slightly uneasy. Had we gone with a pizza, I probably wouldn’t have had to skip breakfast this morning.

“You’ll be back. We can grab pizza then.”

“I will be. The question is, when are you coming to Atlanta? Come down so we can have some fun in the city. We’re not New York, but the southern hospitality is damn good.”

“As soon as I find the time, I’m on the first flight out there. Contrary to what you believe, I actually enjoy Atlanta. I wouldn’t mind living down there. It’s a great city.” My eyes caught her own as she glanced at me from a side angle and a snide snicker followed to match her mood.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it. You’re an east coast girl to the core. I remember when we were in Toronto at All Star. You looked like a fish out of water. I don’t think I can ever see you moving anywhere else for an extended period of time until you’re saggy and old.”

“First of all, just because I’ll be old doesn’t mean that I’ll be saggy. Have you seen Angela Bassett? That’s the goal right there. Second, I do love it up here but I’m not opposed to living elsewhere at some point in my life. It just depends on the circumstances and opportunities. Right now, aside from it being home, it makes perfect sense to be on the east coast. So, until something comes up, this is where I’ll be.” I was the third hire for The Sports Haven and it was a time clenching phone call that came just before I was due to take another opportunity ESPN presented me with out in Los Angeles. I contacted a realtor in hunt for an apartment and intended to return to settle where I’d be residing, but my destiny ended up being in Connecticut. Though I wasn’t mentally prepared to make such a move, I prayed on it, and was ready. I’m sure it may have been my mother’s prayers of desperation to God that kept me here. She dreaded the reality that I wouldn’t be within close proximity to her though I’m not sure why. We’re not in one each other faces much regardless.

“With the position that you have up there at ESPN, I don’t blame you.”

“And once you’re up there with me, we’re going to turn it up. I need a bit more estrogen on that panel from time to time, even though I hold my own against all three of them.”

“That you do sister. That you do.” Our hands met for a high five and I pulled my small mirror out of my traveling case to check and see if I put on enough concealer. I’ve been dealing with sleep deprivation for the past two weeks or so and it’s certainly starting to show in my under-eye area. The seemingly endless hours at work aside, whenever I do have time to myself it’s either invaded by wanted or unwanted plans with the very view people in my life or I’m trying to tie up loose ends that I am not able to do during the week. I’ve considered hiring a personal assistant but I don’t think I’m at a point where I have the potential to become disorganized or worn down just yet. I intend to give it a bit more time.

“Your face looks good. You don’t need to double check anymore.”

“I’m just making sure everything is in place. I refuse to have Linda touching my face today or ever again. I avoid it at all costs.” I’m not one to discriminate against anyone or much of anything for as long as it’s not arming people, but I absolutely do have a bias when it comes to who does my hair and make-up. I need black hands and talent involved in the process at all times. Sure, there’s talent in every ethnic group, but when it comes to those of your own, there’s a certain level of respect and dedication you’re not going to get elsewhere. I know my foundation shade is going to be on point and that the concealer shade won’t have me in front of the camera looking like Casper The Friendly Ghost. My baby hairs are going to be slicked down just right when I’m rocking some braids and the frontal on my wigs will blend into my hairline seamlessly. If it’s one thing that I don’t play around with, it’s my personal presentation and it’s because I know that I’m going to be critiqued the harshest for two specific discrimination types; my blackness and womanhood. During my contract negotiation, EPSN agreed to hire hairstylist Annagjid Taylor, a mutual friend of my sister and myself. I’ve yet to find a make-up artist but until I do, I’ll handle it on my own. Linda can stay out of my dressing room.

“That woman slightly messed up your make up once and you’ve been holding a grudge against her ever since.” I couldn’t join her in the laughter that filled the SUV. My ears, overall face, and neck were three different colors that day and it was beyond obvious. My mother was the first one to call me and ask what the hell was going on and she doesn’t even watch ESPN. Social media had a field day with it.

“And I’m keeping that grudge.”

“I forgot to mention that I saw you speaking with Odell at the party. That’s one of my favorite guys. He has such a humble spirit and he’s super nice.”

“Hm.”

During the time frame when I was researching his career and background, I viewed plenty of interviews where I can easily admit that he exuded a calmness that I did not expect. After having heard so many opposing and confusing opinions about his character, I presumed that he’d be the “push back” style of athlete who deliberately gave reporters a difficult time in drawing information and responses out of him simply because he could. I’ve dealt with many of those types and it takes the patience of God to be able to sit or stand before them without reacting to such brutal attitudes. Marshawn Lynch is a prime example of one, but I’ve gotten used to it and we’ve built up a mutual respect for one another. Beckham Jr., on the other hand, isn’t likely to behave that way. He’ll give you short answers if he’s flustered or dealing with the disappointment of a game loss. You might receive a deliberate straight-faced expression if he’s being asked the same probing question repeatedly, but he’s never disrespected a reporter. I have never come across any bad commentary about an interview with him.

“He’s been wanting to meet you, actually. He spends a lot of time out in L.A. during the off season. While in town last month, I ran into him at an event out there and in the midst of our conversation he asked about you. He thought you were there too. He mentioned something about you two having failed chance encounters. What is that about?

“I don’t know.” Friend or not, I refuse to get into the details about why I had no desire to meet him or the particulars of what he said last night. With Taylor, I know I’ll never hear the end of it.

“So, what did he say last night?”

“He thanked me for what I said and that was it.” Technically, that is it.

“And what did you say?”

“Uh…you’re welcome.” I couldn’t refrain from laughing at that. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. I just thought you two would have ended up speaking more. He’s been eager for that moment. He’s a really big fan. One of the things that I respect about him is how much respect he has for women. There’s no discrimination on his end. The man hosts a football clinic for women every year and the camp that he does for kids is also extended to girls. Whenever we talk, he always gives me props for my career path and then he fangirls over you. He goes on and on about the way you read off career stats and how much you care about the talent over everything else. He’s confident that you’re the best analyst on the network.”

“I’m not the best.” Surely, I’m working to get there, but as of right now, I’m still learning the ropes.

“It’s his opinion, not yours. Stop selling yourself short either way.”

“Well, I appreciate his kind words.”

“He’s a nice guy.” Our eyes met and mine instantly narrowed at her emphasis on his niceness. Initially, I didn’t understand the point of it until that all too familiar smile appeared on her face. “I’m just saying.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so short about him?”

“Why are you so long winded about him? I thought Jesse’s your guy.”

“I don’t want Odell. I’ve never viewed him in that manner, but I’m not Stevie Wonder and neither are you. The man is fine as hell.”

“Okay.” I’ve encountered more athletes than I can count over the last four years. Initially, I found myself paying attention to the exterior of a few of them because all of that muscle is right there in front of you, but eventually, it became so normalized in my life that it began to roll right off of me. When you’re so focused on getting the job done, who gives a damn what they look like?

“You’re such a hermit crab.”

John slowly came to a stop in front of Terminal B at Newark Liberty International Airport. We’d made it in just enough time for her to comfortably get through TSA and to her gate without having to put her black Converses to the test.

“Text me when you land so that I can know you’ve made it back safely.” We tightly embraced one another as we always do whenever we greet and leave one another. “And don’t forget because you always do and then I have to call and curse you out.”

“I won’t forget. It’s been a fun week with you, even though I’m sure you’re drained because we’ve hung out just about every day after you left work. Finish up strong today and get some rest. I know you need it.” That’s a fact.

“I will. I’ll be in the bed with some sort of take out as soon as I get home tonight.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see you soon.”

“You will. Enjoy Jesse, because I overheard that he’s heading your way in two days and it’s not for work.” It was my turn to imply what actually is the truth. Despite her playful denial about what they feel for one another and how they navigate it, I know what she feels is sincere. Her face instantly lights up at the mere mention of his name.

“You bitch. Shut up. You enjoy your day because I have a feeling that it’s going to be a pleasant one.”

“It’s always pleasant for the most part.” There are days when it isn’t, but anyone with a job can attest to that no matter what position held or how much money is being made.

“Love you. I’ll text you.”

“Love you.”

With two years in, I’m still considered to be a rookie around the studio and yet I can’t recall too many moments when I’ve ever felt like one. The executives, producers, and all of my colleagues have been pleasant. One of the surprising perks has been my dressing room. Like all spaces in the beginning, it started off as nothing more than a desk and a chair in the corner of the room. Since then, it has transitioned from looking like a prison cell to being filled with the warmth of nude shades and the comforting scent of eucalyptus and spearmint. There are a few finishing touches that I’m going to work on, but even without them, it’s nearly as comfortable as my den area at home.

“Good morning Sarai.” Amy poked her head into a small opening at the door in the same manner that she always does, as if it makes her presence any less invasive since she doesn’t knock.

“Morning.”

“So, I just want to make you aware of a slight change on the docket today. We’re going to pull about twenty minutes of the show’s typical running time for a one on one with you and OBJ. It’s just preseason talk. Of course, you two can get into your commentary about him. It’ll be a full circle moment to put a close to that.”

“Excuse me? Is Chad not available for it? I thought we’re having Chris Broussard and Terrell Owens on today?” On Monday we went over everything for the entire week and although we do briefings every morning, nothing has changed until now. I haven’t heard a single comment of possibility that he would be joining us here at the network today.

“As a content creator yourself, you know that it doesn’t make sense for Chad to do it. This is a last-minute call by Chip. I didn’t even know about it.”

“I don’t have any questions prepared for this. This is bullshit.” For the first time ever, I blurted out profanity in the workplace and despite not being proud of it, I couldn’t help myself. I hate being put on the spot with a passion. I am not spontaneous. I’m no daredevil. No, I don’t do everything by the book, but I damn sure try my best to do so, because I can’t stand fucked up results.

“I’d say just pull from priors and maybe draw up a few over the next thirty.”

“Priors? I’ve never interviewed him. Amy, you know this.”

“And I also know of your capabilities, so this will go smoothly. It’s not an in-depth sit down. It’s preseason talk. There’s nothing to stress about. You got it Sarai. You always have it.” Before I could respond, she slipped out of the door.

And that’s the problem. You let people pull some crap on you once and they’ll continue doing it if you don’t put your foot down. They’ve had me go into a random one on one with Serena Williams that wasn’t expected and then there was another with Kobe, prior to his retirement and him being my colleague. Granted, it’s what made him respect me, but I still would have preferred to be ready.

“Girl, you get to sit across from that fine ass man today. Can I meet him? You know I never ask you to meet anyone, but him? I just want to stand in front of him and see if he’s just as fine as he is in magazines and on television. I don’t even care about sports, but I’d make a sport out of slurping him.” I nearly choked on air. Annagjid salaciously ran her tongue over her lips as I glared at her though the mirror and had the audacity to follow up her lewd behavior with a pelvic thrust.

“Just for that, I’ll make sure he keeps his distance. I’d hate for him to refuse to ever come here again.”

“Did you say cum?”

“Anna!”

“I’m just saying. The man looks like a Greek God. That’s Zeus and I’m trying to be Hera.”

“You do know that Hera was most famous for being extremely jealous and vengeful against all of Zeus’ lovers and the illegitimate children he had with them, right?”

“And that’s exactly what I would do if that was my man. Let a bitch try to come after what’s mine and I’m whooping ass on sight.” Her antics never fail to make me laugh and I needed something to lighten the mood after Amy’s curveball in my day.

“You’re nuts. I swear.”

“And your ponytail is looking bomb too. I made sure those edges are slicked to perfection. This dress is hitting every curve and got the ass looking right. You’re ready.” I’d chosen an ash blue sleeveless Roland Mouret pencil dress for today. The only other option I had in mind was this exact dress in black, but it’s Friday and I’d rather not look like I’m heading to mourn someone’s death. It’s classy and there’s something about the golden zipper in the back that makes it sexy. My mother would be pleased. I doubt she’d deem me to be her son in a skirt today.

“I’m ready for what?”

“You have to look your best while in front of him. Every woman should.”

“For what? If I could, I’d interview him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’s not President Obama.”

“Obama and those Dumbo ears wishes he looked like that.”

“You know what? I’m not about to allow you to disrespect my forever President over a New York Giants wide receiver, so I’m going to act like you didn’t say that.”

“Oh, I said it. Know and remember that.”

Owens and Broussard were our first visitors which gave me more than enough time to figure out some type of format and direction to what I’d ask Beckham Jr. during every commercial break. I’d describe today’s show as rather lax because we spent far more time laughing at Chad and Terrell’s antics than we did speaking about the up and coming football season and the tension between Kyrie Irving and Lebron James that has lead to him wanting to be traded. You put a set of best friends who happen to be former NFL players together and what do you get? Endless jokes.

“Aye, don’t go too hard on Odell either. You nice as hell but you mean as hell too.” Chad squeezed my shoulders playfully as his warning went into one ear and right out of the other.

“I am not mean.”

“Shit. You boss my bald ass around all the time, but that’s okay, because I like it. You beat by the way. Face is snatched. Edges laid. The ratio between the front of that sandal and your big toe is on point. Apply pressure on they asses.” Chad’s my second favorite, after Fred. I don’t think he takes much of anything seriously and I appreciate it so much because it brightens my day around here.

“You are such a clown yo. Move.” Our laughter filled the set as he wrapped me into a bear hug from behind.

“Don’t laugh too hard because your foundation is going to crack and then you’re going to have smile lines.”

“Never that!” I learned a trick a long time ago to make sure that never happens.

The space where I’d be interviewing Beckham was just another set a few feet away. Though a bit too intimate in setting for what I planned on asking him, I’d take it. It’s less cameras and lights involved. There’s also much less man power around directing which way to sit, which camera to look into, and the timeframe in which you have to get your thought out before moving on to the next topic. When I think back to my days of strictly writing for ESPN Magazine and Sports Illustrated, I can admit that I miss it from time to time. There’s nothing quite like being able to sit down somewhere, with your laptop or even a pen and paper, and just pour your everything into whatever your focus is. I don’t want to say that broadcasting is microwavable journalism because that would be insulting, but it’s extremely fast paced and often time, stories are left behind as quickly as they’re told. I still have clippings of some of my favorite sports articles from my childhood. I have bookmarks online of articles that I’ve enjoyed over the years, some written by people I’ve met in school or elsewhere, and others from those I simply admire from afar. I still grab magazines from the newsstands in the city. Though I do watch all of the other shows on this network, I certainly do make sure to visit the website to check out what our online journalists are writing. There’s something special about studying a subject and descriptively writing about who they are in a manner that exudes the perfect imagery and it moves me unlike anything else. Though I don’t write as much as I used to, I still try to convey that art when I’m sitting down with someone. My aim is to humanize before anything else.

“Sarai Nazaire.”

His low-pitched and yet calming voice commanded my attention and I granted it by turning to where he stood. Much like a week ago, his piercing eyes pervaded my own, as his blonde curls poked out beyond the hood covering his head. He chose to be lax, in a warm green sweat suit and Nike sneakers.

“Hello.” I extended my hand for his own and our skin met in an instant. “How are you?”

“I’m well. How are you?”

“I’m well.”

“This is my mom, Heather.” It was easy to tell. He resembles the tall beauty quite a bit and they have identical smiles. Whenever he speaks of her, he hails her as his reason for not only being but also for the athleticism. She’d been a tremendous track star in her earlier days and even gave birth to him before she could head to the Olympic trials. It makes perfect sense for her to have believed in him when he assured her that he was going to be an NFL player when he was about eight years old.

“Mrs. Van Norman. It’s nice to meet you.” I released his hand and immediately reached for hers.

“Please call me Heather and it’s so nice to meet you. We’re huge fans. We all love you in our house.” If I were their complexion, I’m sure my cheeks would be the color of apples right now.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh no, I have to thank you. You know, he’s a grown man but he’s also my baby and whenever he is or feels attacked, it feels like it’s coming down on me too. I have never heard anyone outside of friends and family speak as highly of him as you did and it caused such a shift in the way that he is reported on nowadays. He can be a knucklehead and all is fair when he’s having one of those moments, but it really does feel like he’s being given a fair chance to be himself without hell to pay for it.” I’m not a mother, but I can imagine what it feels like to turn on your television or surf the web and see such negativity about your child all over the place. It’s even worse when the negativity stems from situations that aren’t crimes. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing when I sounded off about him, but to hear the manner in which it comforted his mother means quite a bit to me.

“There’s no need to thank me for that, really. The one thing that the naysayers cannot negate is his talent. When he’s on the field, he performs. Everything else is just noise. I believe you birthed a once in a lifetime talent.”

“Thank you.” He voiced the answer for the both of them. She’d been too wrapped up in a huge smile to do so before him.

“So, I’m sure you’ve done a million of these. I’m only going to ask you a couple of questions. It’s a short segment. Anything off limits?” Usually, a manager or an agent would approach me prior to any interview and run down a list of details that are off limits. It’s a power move to make sure whoever they’re representing doesn’t have to face the music when asked a difficult question. If you’re smart, you’ll figure out a way to work around it or rework questions to the point of them telling on themselves.

“Nothing is barred. I’m cool with whatever you want to ask.”

“Oh yeah? So, I can ask about your girlfriends?” A light joke for what is sure to be a lighthearted dialogue between the two of us.

“I don’t have any, but you can ask. I don’t mind.” His broadly built shoulders shrugged while a smirk tugged on his lips.

“Is he telling the truth Heather?”

“I suppose so. I haven’t met anyone just yet. I’m waiting on it though. There’s going to have to be a point in time when someone comes to take over and take care of him.”

“You trying to get rid of me?” He glanced over his shoulder at his mom. I hope to muster up enough courage to ask her about her skincare routine because she has a glow that’s stunning.

“Of course not, but it’s the circle of life my child.”

As the room began to clear, I offered him the seat directly across from my own. I looked on, in observation of his body language. That’s the first marker of whether you’re going to have a smooth or difficult time. He chose to sit upright, with credence, and yet his back rested against the chair in an eased manner. Interestingly, he chose to mirror my actions by glancing over my frame to read me. The odd prickling in the nape of my neck that slowly spread all over was a sign that he’s doing a better job than I am.

“All set.”

It’s go time. This is my field and I’m the quarterback here.

“Welcome back to the Sports Haven. I’m Sarai Nazaire and we’re here with All Pro New York Giants wide receiver, Odell Beckham Jr. Odell, welcome to the show.” Much like our greeting earlier, we shook hands for the sake of the camera.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Now, you’re entering your fourth season with the Giants organization. You guys are coming off of a season where it all seemed to be gelling together towards the second half and that led to a playoff run which ended up being cut short by the Greenbay Packers. What are you most looking forward to going into this season?”

“Winning. I know it sounds cliché because that’s what everyone wants to do, but it really is what I’m looking forward to. It was disappointing to lose in the way that we did. It was a blowout but it just served as fuel for me in the off season. I went harder in everything, honestly. I took some for myself but even in the midst of that, I just worked.”

“Did that loss also cause you to have a hatred of boats?” I had to ask and thankfully, he took it in jest. The infamous photograph of a number of the Giants ballers and Trey Songz hanging out on a yacht in Miami just days before that Greenbay game instantly became a media sensation once they lost. The memes and blame game were non-stop for days. If I were them, I don’t know if I’d want to see another boat again let alone be on one.

“No, I still like boats. I spent time on a boat or two during this summer.”

“But given that you’re on this superstar level, you know that it comes with you living your life under a microscope more than most people do including many of your teammates. So how are you handling that now? For most people, it digs under their skin and it’s understandably so. I know you’ve had your moments of frustration. Unfortunately, it’s not something that’s not going to change. All good comes with bits of ugliness, right?”

“Right. One of the things I’m doing is trying to stay out of the microscope. I’ve found myself spending a lot more time at home and away from anything that draws too much attention to me. It’s been different but in a good way. It feels good to be able to comfortably strip away the guard that you have to keep up because of that microscope. Also, I’ve really taught myself not to take things so personally. I play a position in a sport and it comes with all of that, so I had to realize that it’s not so much of an attack on me and even if it is, it all really stems from that position. I can’t allow that to dictate how I live my life or have my happiness.”

“And you had that awakening during this off season?”

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time reflecting and dealing with a lot of emotions that I’ve never felt before and even some pain that I’ve never felt before. Some of it involved football and there were things that didn’t. I had to sort that out and it did a lot of good for me.” I’m always impressed when I hear athletes speak on their mental health. The world views them as figures who play a sport for a living and earns far more money than they deserve to have simply for being entertainers. The majority of them make more money than the doctors who repair them after injury, which can be quite mind boggling when you think about it. Because of that, spectators believe they’re entitled to dictate the manner in which these people live their lives, the way in which they speak, and the level that they believe each and every one of them should be performing at on the field day after day. People wave the entitlement flag at them when they’re not being puppets on a string and never once take the time out to think about the emotional strain the pressure of impressing an entire public of people can put on a person. I’ve had many conversations, off the record, with athletes who have admitted they’ve fell out of love with the sport they play and represent because of the unnecessarily harsh scrutiny and relentless pressure.

“Do you feel like there are people who want you to fail?

“That comes with the territory. There are a lot of people who do, but it’s fuel for me. It serves as motivation for me to continuing grinding and moving forward for those who do support and believe in me. They’re the most important to me. I meet so many people who tell me that I inspire them to be great. On Instagram I see and sometimes I meet kids who go to their barbers and get the dye and haircut done. I can’t let down everyone who buys a jersey to represent me. After what you said about me, I can’t let you down either.” I held my breath as a faint fluttering filled my core and my body’s response was to reposition itself in the seat. My follow up question instantly became stuck in my throat.

“How does this new found inner peace contribute to the up and coming season and to the Giants locker room? How has Odell improved?”

“I’ve become a better route runner and catcher, but I think the most important part that I needed and have become is a better teammate and listener. I’m giving more and putting more into everything. I can feel it in my conditioning, I put it to the test at training camp, and I’m assured in what I intend to bring to the field this season. I’m excited.”

“I’ve been looking into the offense. There’s Brandon Marshall and your young tight end. Sterling Shepard is looking good. I think you guys have a good season ahead of you.”

“Yeah, the defense has always been there, so it’s up to us to get the job done and I think we’re in a pretty good position. We learned from that disappointment at the top of the year.”

“I’m looking forward to it Beckham.”

“You have to come to a game then. Not as an analyst though, just as a normal citizen coming out to enjoy some Sunday night football.” My laughter infectiously sparked his own fit of giggles and the smile that remained on his face warmed my soul like a ray of sunshine. Does this happen with everyone who sits across from him? How the hell does anyone stay angry with this guy?

“That sounds like a plan. I’m about twenty minutes from the stadium.

“And you have to wear this.” I hadn’t even noticed there was a jersey hanging behind his chair. What made me roar in laughter wasn’t the jersey, but the fact that the numbers were in snakeskin. I’ve been gifted many jerseys but I’ve never seen one customized like that. It’s interesting looking in a good way. I’d wear that as a cute top for a chill outing with friends if the circumstances were different.

“I’ve seen a lot of football jerseys but with snakeskin? Never. Thank you.” I held it up for the camera to see for the sake of good TV and placed it across my lap.

“You’re welcome.”

“Odell, it’s always a pleasure to have you up here. You have to come back soon. I wish you all the best on this up and coming season.”

“Thank you, Sarai.” Yet again, we shook hands and I held up the jersey once more before we officially wrapped.

I’m usually a bit more courteous in the way I send guests off before disappearing into my dressing room, but my goodbye was brief and my heel clad feet couldn’t move fast enough to escape the odd tension in the room. I’ve never wanted him to feel like he owes it to me to be nicer than necessary because I said a couple of decent words about him. While I don’t believe that he has any ulterior motives, I do wonder if there’s this sense of sympathy for the manner in which it worked for and against me. I don’t want to be Odell Beckham Jr.’s charity case because he isn’t mine and he certainly wasn’t that day either. I did my job as an analyst; nothing more or less.

Though she insisted on meeting him, Annagjid left for a weekend at home in Philadelphia but made sure to send me a text message ogling over the way Beckham’s sweatpants hugged his thighs throughout the interview. I’m thankful she’s gone, because if given the opportunity, she would have audaciously told him what I read in that message and it would have been the reason I combusted into a pillar of dust out of sheer embarrassment. With that segment done and no Podcast episodes needing to be recorded today, I can get started on my weekend. I’m not only going to grab a bottle of red wine on my way home, but I’m leaving my favorite spirit shop with two. Once I have my take out ordered, I’ll curl up on the floor in front of my living room table a la Olivia Pope and skim through whatever the premium networks are offering OnDemand. I’m behind on Homeland. Then again, I’m way behind on House of Cards, so a lonesome Netflix and chill sounds much better.

“Come in!” My heels were idly lying next to my chair. I walking out of here in Converses. The bougie can go for the week. Street chic is where it’s at.

“Sarai?”

I’m convinced I’m suffering a karma for something that I don’t quite remember doing or the universe is trolling the shit out of me. Whichever way you put it, over the course of these last seven days, all of the silent and yet minimal requests I’ve had for God and my subconscious have not only been the opposite, but have also been a ferocious time frame of mental gymnastics.

“Beckham. What’s up?” With no hesitation, he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. The oxygen supply is diminishing as we speak.

“About those tickets. Look.” There were two of them in his hand.

“You never said anything about tickets.” He didn’t. He only encouraged me to come out and support the team. I figured it was in jest.

“How could I invite you to a game and not have tickets for you? These are for the Philly game. We play the Cowboys during week one and the Lions during week two, but I feel like our Philly games are super competitive and fun to watch. It’s the better choice.”

“At home or in Philly? You really didn’t have to do this.” And he shouldn’t have. It’ll only worsen the claim that I baby him and deliberately overlook his transgressions because I have a soft spot for the young players. I never want to be differentiated based upon gender but it’s the way of life and I get the short end of the stick depending upon what I say and who it’s in reference to. It goes beyond people questioning my job and instead, they question my character. My credentials are online for all to see and yet I still am accused of fucking my way to the top. Gossip blogs have connected my pussy to every athlete that has stood within five feet of me and I don’t personally know any of them beyond the former ones I work alongside five days a week. My dating life is endlessly analyzed though the only thing I’m in a relationship with has batteries and sits inside of my bedside drawer. I don’t know what narrative will be painted if a camera catches me at one of this man’s games and I don’t want to know. I’m looking forward to the day when I’m no longer identified by his story. I’d like to think he’s just as sick of seeing my name synonymous with his in the headlines.

“In Philly. I can get you a ride out there if you need one.

“I’m sure that I can manage. I don’t have a car, but I’m looking into a couple of Mercedes Benz dealerships in New Jersey so that I can finally get the car that I’ve been eyeing.”

“What kind? My guy Phil Campbell manages the inventory in both Manhattan and Paramus. I can reach out to him for you. He’s a cars guy, believe me when I tell you. He’ll get you right for sure.

“Nothing too special. Just an A-Class sedan for now. My pockets aren’t as deep as yours.”

“I’m still on my rookie contract. I wouldn’t say they’re that deep.” Rookie contract or not, with his Nike deal and all of the other endorsements he has, he’s a millionaire many times over already.

“Well I’ll tell you this much, my ESPN contract certainly isn’t worth ten point four million dollars.”

“It should be.” This guy. What a paradox.

“So, this Phil guy can help out?” I don’t care about cars enough to research specs and special features. “All I want is a sunroof, seat warmers for the winter, and an amazing sound system. Everything else is whatever, honesty.”

“He knows his shit. I can send him your information. Knowing him, he’ll get back in touch with you within the next hour or so.” Help is help and my pride can shrink enough to get out of the way when it comes to something that I don’t know. I’ve had my fair share of being loud and wrong and it’s not fun being the idiot in the room once it’s all said and done.

“Okay, hold on.” On my desk, I have my ESPN cards to purposelessly give out in exchange for the management or agent cards of our guests. In my wallet, I keep a few business cards where my personal phone number and e-mail are for the sake of obeying my father’s rule about a business card being “far more professional” than stating your phone number out loud while they plug it into their phone. I don’t give much of those out either. “This is my business card. My e-mail and number is there. You can give him the information whenever. I’m not in that much of a rush.”

“I’ll send it to him in a few minutes, that way you’ll be able to go over the specifics about whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. So, about that Philly game. You’ll be there?”

“I’ll try to make it out.” I’m not going. I wish he had of gifted these to a super fan who would have loved to be in attendance.

“Okay then. I’m looking forward to seeing you there. I already helped with one part of your outfit; you just have to figure out the rest.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be in Giants gear? What makes you so sure that I’m not an Eagles fan? It’s looking like they’re going to have a damn good season this year.”

“If you are, I intend to change your mind.”

“Hm.” The universe can kiss my black ass and it’s quite black by the way.

“I’ll see you soon Sarai Nazaire.” What’s his fascination with saying my first and last name? I’ve never met anyone who has done that and admittedly, it doesn’t roll off of anyone’s tongue in the manner that it does his. Maybe it’s the French connection in Louisiana that aids in him pronouncing it so well.

“Goodbye Beckham.”

Last Friday I had no desire to hear anything playing on the radio and yet the end of this week has John and I bopping to my best of the 90s Hip-Hop playlist on Apple Music. Who the hell wouldn’t start an eighty-seven-degree Friday off with Craig Mack’s “Flava In Ya Ear” remix and an Oreo Cookie Blizzard from the Dairy Queen? The next stop is for the wine and then I’m free to lounge in my living room in nothing more than an old t-shirt and the lace black thong covering my lower half. I may even turn my phone on “Do Not Disturb” until sometime tomorrow. Hell, is Monday morning a stretch?

The buzzing of my phone in my lap paused my backseat party and the foreign number along the screen riddled me into confusion.

You’re not an A-Class sedan type of woman. That’s not for you. An E-Class Coupe fits your mold; sophisticated, sleek, and breathtaking. If I had a say so, that’s what you’d leave the dealership with, but I don’t. Maybe you’ll take my advice? Have a great weekend Sarai Nazaire.

My eyes panned down to observe the minor trembling of my hand and the appetizing blizzard that was now turning into a milkshake.

Or maybe I’ll throw my phone into the Hudson River.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic

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toxxicsky · 5 years

Text

HAUNTED

This was my short fic that was supposed to be for Halloween.... but yeah, life get’s busy and likes to make problems.

anyway. hope you enjoy.

warning kinda major character death.

October 13

They just had to.

They just had to move into their new house.

They just had to move into their new house. The one that Lance swears up and down is haunted.

It all started when Hunk decided it was time to move from their stuffy old apartment. Lance had reluctantly agreed with him. He liked the place they lived in. It was easy to get to town. He didn't have to worry about creeps, and he didn't have to take care of a yard.

Hunk wanted the extra room. He wanted to have a bigger kitchen and a nice yard that he could have a garden or at least a greenhouse. Lance was a weak man and couldn't really deny having more room would be nice. Especially for his design studio.

They soon found what seemed to be the perfect home. It had an old Victorian design, even if it was only two stories tall. A large front and backyard, and a two car garage. To top it all off it was only a few minutes from town, and a straight shot there.

They had originally just wanted to rent a place. This was a rent to own and the house was very cheap. The payments were lower than what they would have renting another place anywhere like it.

The only problem. It was haunted.

Hunk just thinks Lance is forgetting where he sets things. Or because the house is so old the wiring is faulty sometimes. Or that the house might be tilted slightly causing the books they have to fly off the shelf and smack Lance right in the face. (Okay that one might have been a stretch, but Hunk has bad nerves). Lance's main problem? It almost always seems to happen to him. Like how the hell did his keys end up in the fish tank? Why does the light have to go off every time he is going down the stairs causing him to trip and fall.

Whatever it is, he’s about had it.

To top it all off, it was the beginning of October. And yes, that means Halloween was on its way. Normally, Lance would be so thrilled about it. He loved to decorate. Not this year. Nope, not happening. It's not because they are low on money. No, he started putting decorations up and they seem to vanish or move around.

So yeah, he is completely done with the whole decorating thing.

He just hopes whatever it is would go away, and soon.

~~~~

October 20

Lance started to stir. It was way too early for him, seeing as the sun wasn’t even out yet. But he knew if he didn’t get up soon, he wouldn’t have time to get everything he wanted done before work. He would be cranky all day.

"Ugh, Hunk can you get the light, my man?" Lance mumbled out a barely audible sentence.

The lights flickered for a moment, before turning on. It pulled a long, pained moan from him as the light jarred him awake. It looks a moment for his eyes to adjust, as he wondered why Hunk was so quiet. When he was finally able to focus, he was not with the man of his life, but a very transparent, small... child?

Lance's mouth dropped as he stared at the person in front of him, who was giving him an impish grin.

"Morning dumb ass," was all they said before Lance screamed bloody murder. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he ran out of their room and out the door, to his car.

He heard demonic cackling all the way there.

~~~

Lance was lucky he had a pair of clothes for emergencies. This was definitely one of them. He got changed in his car, then drove as fast as he could, to Hunk's work. He had to tell Hunkl what he saw! This just couldn't be real.

He pulled into the lovely bakery, that Hunk basically owns, and rushed in without a second thought.

"Hunk!" Lance rushed in heading behind the counter.

Hunk looked over and gave him the brightest smile he could manage. "Hey, man." His smile was quickly turned to a frown when he saw the desperation in Lance’s face.

"We need to move now!" Lance flung his arms around.

"This isn't about that ghost thing is it?" Hunk knew Lance had been high strung over the new house. It seemed perfectly fine to him. Yeah, there was a couple of strange things that happened now and then, but nothing to cause alarm. Hunk should know, he is easily on edge on everything else, but ghosts were... not likely. They just could be real.

"Yes, it is! I saw it!" Hunk looked around and saw that Lance’s yelling and animated movement was starting to cause a scene.

"Okay, Lance. We will talk about this later. I'm at work and you have work in," he checked his phone, " an hour. So go to work and I'll meet you here afterward.” Hunk smiled while he started to push Lance out of the store.

Lance let out an angered huff. ”It’s true!. I did really see it." He tried one last time, but with the look Hunk was giving him, Lance just sighed and lowered his head. "Okay, I'll see you here later, after work."

Hunk just gave him a bright smile and reached over to give one of his famous hugs. "That's it. Don't worry. It will be fine, man."

Lance left in defeat. For a man who was always easy to scare, this didn’t even seem to phase him.

~~~~~~~

After his shift at work was over, he was anxious to show Hunk what he had seen. He knew what he saw and knew it had to be true. He just had to prove it to the other resident in the house.

Hunk let out a long sigh as they both pulled into the driveway. ”Lance, Buddy, I really don’t think there is anything here. I’m sure you just saw something that might have looked like a ghost. You’re just spooked because it’s close to Halloween, and we both know it.” Hunk finished shutting the door, then pulled Lance close, to stop the others paranoid shaking.

“Hunk, there is no way it is not a ghost or something! It was hanging upside down, from the ceiling. How do you explain that!” He jabbed a finger In Hunks soft belly.

This just caused Hunk to laugh, ”Yeah, but how tangled were you in your covers?” He smiled, pulling a childish pout from Lance, while they walked into the house.

The first thing Hunk noticed what all the lights were on. He frowned at that. The cover Lance had slept with was in the middle of the hall, but everything else seemed to be the same.

“You know we are going to have a pretty high electric bill from you leaving the lights on,” Hunk complained, heading straight to the kitchen to start dinner, not even bothered by Lance’s distress.

“But, I didn't even turn them on. I ran out of the house!” He waved his arms around dramatically, dropping to the couch with the loudest sigh he could let out.

Lance Looked over to see the couch had a dip in it, that was suspiciously small body shaped.

A chilled suddenly ran down his spine.

‘He won’t believe you,’ A young voice rasped out.

Lance froze in place and out of the corner of his eyes he could see short, wild messy auburn hair. He looked over swiftly. But whatever he saw was gone. Lance felt he was going to be sick. He jumped up and rushed over and grabbed Hunk pulling him close.

“I think… I think I’m going to stay to right here.” He buried his face into Hunk’s back.

Hunk just laughed.

~~~~~~~

October 24

Lance was held up in his studio. He had a few designs he had to get done before Halloween and to get ready for Thanksgiving builds. He was lost in his own world drawing up designs and pinning layers of clothing on more layers.

Hunk was downstairs decorating. It was already after dinner.

“Good. For. Him.” Lance spat out in frustration. He cared for the man, but it wasn’t fair that he seemed to be able to do everything Lance couldn’t. Lance was frustrated. Whenever he tried to do anything, it always seemed to go wrong.

‘Could you make me a rad outfit?’ a young voice came from behind him.

He knew that voice.

Oh no, not again.

He slowly turned. He was finally able to see them. They looked like a young child. Boy, no, girl. Short wavy, messy Alburn hair. Large round glasses. White and green hoodie, and shorts. What was so off putting, was this person wasn’t standing on their feet, but floating about a foot off the ground. They were also slightly see through.

“What… who?” he was shaking. He backed up, tripping on top of the table, which caused a loud bang as he landed right on his ass.

He looked up to hear cackling and saw the girl rolling in laughter. She was literally rolling in the air while laughing.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and Hunk came rushing in. “What happened! Are you…”

Hunk stopped dead in his tracks as he came face to face with the floating apparition. His body started to shake, while he started to mumbled incoherent words. The next thing the other two knew, Hunk was crumpled to the ground.

Lance forgot everything about the ghost in the room and jumped up. “Hunk! Hunk, buddy. Can you hear me?” He looked over to the girl in panic. “Can you help me?”

She just stood there lost in thought. But when she saw Lance’s panicked face she shook her head and floated to him. “Of course I can help. Let’s get him to the living room.”

The three finally made it down to the living room and got Hunk settled. Now all Lance could do was glare at the apparition.

“What are you doing here?” He bit out.

She at least looked guilty. “Um, well this is where I live.” Lance gave her a look of disbelief, and she raised her eyebrows. “No, it’s true. I Have been here a lot longer then you have. You… just normally, can’t see me.” She kicked at the ground.

“Okay, so you died here? Why didn’t you leave? To go, I don’t know, wherever the dead goes?” Lance asked In frustration. He was so tired of all that has happened, and now Hunk was passed out on the couch.

“Well, I can’t just leave… I want to…” She then got defensive. ”If I want to stay, I’ll stay!”

“Well, why have you been picking on me? I know it was you.” Lance pointed at her.

At that, she gave him a huge Cheshire grin. ”You're easy to pick on.”

Lance was sure smoke was coming out of his ears, ”You have no right to right to pick on me like that!” he went to poke her in the chest, but his hand went right through. He let out the girliest shriek ever, pulling his hand to his chest faster than lightning. “Oh, that feels weird.”

She started to cackle at him, then a moan came from behind them. They looked over at the lump on the couch as Hunk started to wake up.

Hunk rubbed his eyes while he sat up from his awkward position on the couch. “Oh man, I hurt something sleeping on the cou…” he looked up to see the translucent girl sitting next to Lance. They were staring at him with wide eyes. “Lance! This better not be your way of trying to trick me because I didn’t believe you about that ghost thing.” he glared.

“This is not a trick! She is real! This is what I have been telling you about… okay well, she is not as scary as I remember seeing her the first time… and she is a lot nicer since she helped me get you to the couch… But see! Now, do you believe me?” Lance waved his arms around, mostly towards the short haired figure in front of him.

“I want to say sorry for causing all the trouble. I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing this one squirm and now you can see me. So the fun is over I guess. ”She put her hand out and gave them the warmest smile. ”Hey, I’m Pidge.”

Hunk was pretty sure he stared at them for a solid two minutes. “So, you're dead.”

“Yep.”

“And you live here?”

“Have my whole life…and well, death.” She just smiled back.

“And how can we see you?” Lance asked. Hunk appeared to be doing as well as he could, with a dead being in front of him.

“Yep! It’s a little hard for me to keep hidden this time of year.”

The two men looked at each other, confused for a moment before Hunks face lit up.

“Oh! It’s because it’s close to Halloween, isn’t it!” Hunk pointed at her.

“That’s right. It’s what some like to call the witching hour.” she then her gaze became distant.

They looked at each other in confusion.

Lance reached out and cautiously placed his hand on her knee. He was happy that it didn’t go through her body this time. “Hey, are you okay?”

She smiled and looked at him. “Yeah, just miss people.”

“Why don’t you move on? You're sure to be happy.” Hunk moved closer.

“No way.” She yelled and started to fizzle out for a second. “I just can’t. Not till I see the end.”

“The end of what?” Lance asked

She then jumped up. “Oh look at the time. It’s almost morning already. Gotta flash.”

“It’s not even one in the morning!” Lance yelled as she vanished.

~~~~

October 25

“Hey, do you think Shiro and Matt are getting the wedding ready?” Hunk asked Lance. Lance had brought his studio into the living room.

“That’s Keith’s brother, right? It’s the one on Halloween?” Lance mumbled between several pins in his mouth as he worked on creating two white suits. “That asshole asked me to put these together on such short notice. Something about them doing it last minute so Matt won't back out, or something like that.” He looked over to see Hunk moving over to the couch, to sit near him.

“Yeah, that’s that one. We’re going to it, right? Keith invited us. Not many people are going because of how soon it is.” Hunk smiled. “Also, what about that Pidge person? She hasn’t bothered us all day.”

“You rang?!”

Lance wondered if he would lose his voice from screaming so much. “Don’t scare me like that! I have needles around me! I could have stabbed myself.”

“Sure... with those tiny, sharp, little needles. You might have died. Oh, that means I can pick on you easier!” She snarked back.

“Ha ha ha. That’s great coming from someone who is already dead.” He decided to get back to his work. He was only on the blazer and had 6 days to finish the whole outfit.

“Don’t mind that too much. Now, what is that about a wedding? I heard you mention Matt! He’s finally getting married!”

Lance and Hunk exchanged a look. “You know Matt?” Hunk asked

She got quiet. Looking down at the floor where she floated from, she said. “Yeah, I know Matt… You see, he… he is my brother.”

The two of them jumped up, shouting. “YOU’RE MATT’S SISTER!”

After he got over his shock, Hunk’s eyes softened. He moved closer to her, placing his hand on her shoulder and asked gently,” Pidge how did you die?”

Pidge let out a long sigh. “Well, I’m not really sure, to be honest. Like, I think I know, but it’s still a little fuzzy. I think it’s been about a year? Matt and I were having an argument. The dumb kind that siblings have. He told me he got engaged. He didn’t tell me he was planning it. Or anything. I had this huge plan for them. Fireworks! Singing! Dancing! You name it. But now that I think about it, that’s probably why he never told me.”

Hunk pulled her close and down on the couch for support. Lance had also stopped what he was doing to sit next to Pidge so he could listen better.

She took a breath. “Well, you see, I was so mad at him. I stormed off into my room.”

“You didn’t,” Lance asked worriedly.

“Hell no! I just cooled off. After I had cooled down. I worked at the best wedding present for him… It was also a kind of a ‘sorry’ present. I was so excited, that I finished it a week later. I ran down the stairs and tripped. The next thing I knew, I woke up standing in the middle of the living room and the house had been gutted. I’ve been stuck here ever since.” She sighed as she finished. For being a ghost, she felt drained. “I don’t normally believe in coincidence, but I feel like you guys came here for a reason. Can You help me?”

Those words shouldn’t have sounded so desperate, but they did. For someone who tormented Lance for a whole month, he felt like he had known her for most of his life. He would happily endure the torture to see her happy. This girl is so small and young, to just have her life snuffed out. Lance glanced over to Hunk who smiled and nodded. “Of course, we’ll help. You want to give Matt his wedding gift right?”

For the rest of the week, they saw her more frequently. She loved to pull pranks on them, then Lance would get mad and chase her around while they laughed. Pidge helped Lance design some nice details on Matt’s outfit, to help make it more personal. She also helped Hunk pick out Matt and Shiro’s favorite foods since Hunk and Lance didn’t know them that well personally.

The only problem was Pidge wasn’t sure where she hidden her gift. She knew it was still in the house. But where was the problem? Her memory seemed to be slipping as time went on. She was more solid now, but she seemed to be weaker. With the wedding only two days away, they had to find it.

~~~

The day before the wedding, as they were searching like crazy, Lance kicked a loose board in his studio. “I think I found something.” He pulled the board away.

Pidge walked over and peered behind him. ”Oh, I remember now! This was my room.” She looked down to see it. “Oh, Lance!” She hugged him and tears started to fall from her eyes. She felt lighter at peace. “You found it.”

Lance smiled, gazing up at her. He noticed she started to break apart as she floating to the sky. The pieces looked like little spheres of light, evaporating from her body and taking her away. Hunk gasped, frozen at the sight.

“Thank you,” she whispered and Lance felt a tear fall as she disappeared completely.

They just stood there, feeling lost and disjointed from this world. How could someone they are only known for a week, impact them so dearly?

They wanted to sit and mourn their loss, but they knew what they had to do.

The next day, they got dressed early in the morning. The grooms clothing and food had been sent over yesterday. They knew they should be happy, but it was hard to when you feel like you just lost someone.

They should have known it wasn’t going to last. What were they going to do? The famous Trio living together, one never aging, forced to watch her friends grow old and eventually join her. Nah, that would be torture. It was best this way.

They made it to the wedding it plenty of time. Keith greeted them at the door and showed them where to sit. When he reached for the gift, Lance pulled it closer to himself. “I got it. I wanted to give it to them personally.”

Keith scowled at him, mumbling something like ’It better not be some kind of sex toy!’

Lance just gave a small, sad smile. He only wished it was something like that.

The wedding went on without a problem. Everyone was smiling and happy. Hunk was even able to let loose a little. But as everything wound down, Matt walked over to the two of them.

“Keith was saying you wanted to give me something? But only in secret?” Matt said with a smile on his face, but when the two grooms saw tears glisten the eyes of the others, they changed their tone.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked.

“Guys… I have an important story to tell you.” Tears seemed to fall freely, without restraint. “It’s a sad story, but also a happy one. You see, someone who loved you very dearly, wouldn’t leave this world until you two were wed and happy. She wanted you to move on.” Hunk started but was unable to continue.

Lance took a deep breath then handed the box over to them. It was a small square box, about a foot around, with green paper and a black bow. Large round glasses were placed on top as a decoration.

Matt looked at the box in shock. He knew those glasses. He knew whose favorite color this was. ”She,” Lance continued, ”She had been waiting for so long, that little gremlin. She had worked on this for a week straight, without sleep. Now that you two are together and she found her gift, she was happy enough to move on. She wanted to let you know, she is so proud of you and she will love you forever.”

Matt felt tears fall when he opened the small gift. Inside was a triangular object. Sleek black, with teal designs going through it. A note lay on top.

‘This is Rover. He’s your pet since you guys can’t have any pets at your place. He can record things and has a camera so I can spy on you two. I need to make sure Shiro is being good to you. No nasty things in front of him!

Love Pidge.’

Matt knew he was crying. When he looked up, the sight in front of him was surreal. There Pidge stood, in a white sundress, her body glowing and slightly translucent. She looked at him and smiled as he gaped at her. Then gave him the biggest pout she could muster. “You better like this dress jackass. You know I hate them.”

His mouth snapped shut and she just beamed at him. “Be good to each other and be happy, You were already my favorite brother. I was never mad.”

She backed away and started to fade.”I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#Lance #kanda #lunk #lance and hunk #Hunk #Pidge #ghost #voltron #voltron fanfic #halloween #late halloween

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 6 years

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Forgotten Memories. 4

You never wanted new flatmates but yet here you are, sharing an apartment with Jeon Jungkook and Kim Yugyeom. Maybe landlord Taehyung had a reason for letting Jungkook and Yugyeom move into your apartment. You only hoped that they didn't mind living with a ghost.

Jungkook roommate au ft BTS & Got7

Warnings; Supernatural stuff. Sad stuff. Ghost Y/N. Ghost Namjoon. Mentions of suicide. Mentions of death. Swearing. Harmful things.

Forgotten Memories Masterlist

After Taehyung revealed his suspicions to you and Namjoon, the three of you stayed up all night trying to figure out who would want either of you dead and who would benefit from your deaths. Due to the fact Taehyung didn't know an awful lot about either of you when you were alive and neither you or Namjoon could remember your lives past the building you resided in, there wasn't a single name on the list when you were done.

"Maybe I should talk to Jackson," Taehyung suggested. "He knows you both better than anyone without getting your family involved."

"No, you can't pull him into this." You argued firmly. "First of all, he doesn't believe in ghosts and nothing you could say would convince him that we're still here. And secondly, he is suffering more than enough as it is without knowing we suspect we were murdered."

"You're right." Taehyung frowned. "I don't think anyone else here would know anything helpful."

"And once again, convincing them that we are ghosts and still roaming around the building will be near impossible." Namjoon added.

"Don't you have any information on us, as your tenants?"

"I have next of kin but seeing as you changed that to each other months ago, I have nothing. I don't legally need any information besides the obvious on tenants and I wouldn't feel right having more than necessary."

"If only we had a creepy landlord who stalked his tenants." You replied with a dramatic sigh. Both males chuckled. "So, that's it, we have to quit before we even started?"

"No, we can figure something out." Taehyung assured.

Not a single word was voiced in the apartment for a good twenty minutes while the three of you sat in concentrated silence. Suddenly, Taehyung made a loud sound of realisation that oddly enough resembled the yelp of a dog getting his paw accidentally stood on.

"What the hell was that?!" Namjoon shrieked, looking at Taehyung with wide eyes.

"I just remembered something! Do you two have any belongings of your own left?" His eyes flicked between the two of you.

"Jackson kept some of our stuff."

"Anything particularly precious? I mean really precious?" You and Namjoon looked at each other as you thought hard.

Every item in Namjoon's bedroom belonged to either you or Namjoon himself. Jackson had added more of your belongings to the room after clearing out most of Namjoon's stuff with help from Jimin. But still, there was a lot Jackson couldn't bring himself to donate or send back to family members.

Honestly, most of the items didn't recall any special memories for either of you so it took you a while to find something.

"Oh! Yes!" You exclaimed, looking at Taehyung. "There is a ring, a promise ring Namjoon gave me on our one year anniversary."

"Oh yeah." Namjoon smiled at the memory. "I spent ages looking for the perfect ring for you."

"I love it, I wish I could still wear it." You looked down at your bare fingers with a frown. "It's my most treasured possession and I can't even touch it."

"I can teach you," Taehyung announced gaining your attention. "I saw my grandmother teach a ghost to interact with objects when I was little. I can help you, at least, I think I can."

"And you're only just telling us now?!" Namjoon cried out. "Taehyung!"

"I'm sorry, I forgot about it." He apologised.

"Why do you want to know about our precious possessions?" You enquired, bringing the conversation back on track.

"You can use them to leave the building." Your eyes blew wide. "Spirits have three possible anchors in the mortal world, the first being their home if they have enough love and important moments there while alive. The second being their place of death but you two don't seem to return to the car where you were found so that is more reason to believe that isn't where you died. The third is a precious object. If someone has the object and leaves the building, you can leave with them but you can only stay within a certain distance of the object. I'm not sure on that distance though."

"It can be tested." You mumbled. "So say if you had my ring and went to the shops, I could go with you?" Taehyung nodded. "You need to get that ring, Taehyung."

"How am I supposed to do that? I can't just break into Jackson's apartment for a ring, I'd get arrested!"

"He's right, babe." Namjoon put his hand on your thigh. "We need to be smart about this."

"What is your precious item, hyung?"

"A watch. It was my grandfathers and he gave it to me just before he died. I broke it though and couldn't wear it for years but Y/N got it fixed for me last Christmas. It's honestly the best gift anyone has ever given me. It was important before then but it's been the more important item to me ever since."

"Jackson has it?"

"He wears it. He knew how important it is to me. Do you think that's why I'm drawn to him a lot?"

"Definitely," Taehyung confirmed with a positive nod. "Do you think he'll take it off?"

"No. I don't even know if he takes it off to shower." Namjoon confessed. "That means I'm stuck here until he leaves, right?"

"Yeah." Their attention turned to you then. "We will focus on your ring then."

"Okay, what should we do?" You didn't argue and shuffled forward to focus on Taehyung's next words.

"You need to somehow get the ring to me so I can take it out with me."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can't exactly just pick it up and walk away, a floating ring is going to look rather suspect, Tae."

"l don't know." His lips turned downwards at his lack of useful ideas.

"How about we just learn how to move objects for now? There's no point in coming up with a plan if we can't execute it." Namjoon suggested realising you and Taehyung were getting quite discouraged.

"You're right." You mumbled before straightening up and pushing your negative thoughts and worries from your mind. "Okay teacher, how do we do this?"

"Well from what I remember, you need to try and imagine your hand as an object itself, like, real, like bones and blood and muscles and skin and-"

"Okay, we get it." Namjoon interrupted with a chuckle. "Pretend we actually have flesh and bones." He summarised shuffling to sit next to you, both of you looking at items on the coffee table. "Do you think weight will affect our abilities?"

"Hm, possibly." Taehyung thought then reached over to move a pen to the table in front of you. "Let's start small. Spirits can move very heavy objects, I think it's because you're not restricted by bodies so you aren't limited to your muscle strength but it will take a while to work up to it."

"Makes sense." Namjoon hummed and hovered his right hand over the pen. His eyes closed as he focused on imagining his hand once again existed physically in the mortal world. He imagined every little mark he had grown to know his handheld, every single visible vein, every crease. A full 72 seconds later, he opened his eyes, a look of determination on his features. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his hand as it lowered over the piece of stationery. You couldn't tell if he had made contact with the item or not, his hand had covered it fully. Slowly, his pulled his fingers in as his palm lifted until his index finger and thumb were directly either sides of the pen. He paused for a second then proceeded to bring his fingers in until they touched the plastic. A gasp left your parted lips as you saw the pads of his fingers indent slightly from the pressure of the plastic. With a proud smile that only grew with every passing moment, Namjoon lifted the pen.

"Wow." Taehyung breathed, awestruck.

"That's my man!" You cooed, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"Here, try and take it from me." He replied with a goofy smile, happy with himself but also your praise. He turned to you and held the pen at one end, leaving the other for you.

You nodded enthusiastically and reached out only for your hand to pass through the item.

"You're too excited." Namjoon chuckled. "Calm down."

"Okay okay, calm." You took a few slow breaths to relax your body and mind.

"Don't forget to imagine your hand as a physical object." Taehyung reminded. You nodded and closed your eyes to try and copy Namjoon's technique.

You concentrated on the feel of your hand against your thigh, how every finger felt individually, how the weight distributed. You didn't spend as long concentrating as Namjoon did and maybe that was where you went wrong or maybe it was the excitement that rushed through your system once again.

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at the pen. Carefully, you lifted your hand and touched your fingers to it. The second you felt the hard plastic under your fingertips, your face lit up with excitement and you lifted your head to look at Namjoon. He looked so proud and happy for you but he nodded back to it.

"Don't lose focus." He instructed. You followed his words and looked back down only to find your fingers had gone through the item. You whined in annoyance and pulled your hand back. "Try again." Once again, you followed his words but, you couldn't even touch the pen that time.

You threw your body back against the pillows in anger. The second your back hit the material, the lightbulb above your heads on the ceiling exploded.

"Was that me?" You mumbled, a cold feeling spreading through your chest. Since you returned as a ghost, you hadn't felt any temperature difference and you thought you'd be happy to feel something you wished you hadn't felt the chill. It was as if ice had encased your heart and was slowly spreading out from it.

"You always did have a problem with controlling your emotions." Namjoon chuckled. The second his reassuring hand rubbed soothing lines up and down your arm, the ice abruptly stopped. You looked at him to see his lovestruck eyes staring down at you with such a soft fondness that your heart managed to thaw for the most part but there was still a coldness there that scared you. You didn't know what it meant and you didn't want to mention it to prevent the pair worrying but you didn't doubt it wasn't good.

"It's okay," Taehyung spoke, getting up to gather the dustpan and brush. "I have plenty of bulbs." You watched as he cleaned up, wishing you could help him but you couldn't even hold a pen let alone cleaning instruments.

Beside you, the pen clattered to the floor and Namjoon vanished.

"Joonie?!" You instantly called, jumping to your feet. "He's never done this."

Taehyung walked over to the window with the view of the road out the front of the apartment building. "Oh, Jackson is going out." He commented amazed. You rushed over to peer out the glass too.

Jackson was indeed in his car and fiddling with the radio to pick a station he liked while simultaneously plugging in his seatbelt. Namjoon was sat in the passenger seat beside him a little perplexed for a second until he spotted his watch on Jackson's wrist and he realised what was happening and relaxed. Namjoon looked over to the window and grinned at you with an excited wave. You and Taehyung grinned and waved back. Jackson looked up then, getting the feeling he was being watched. He quickly found Taehyung stood at his window and gave a very awkward little wave back. As quickly as possible, Jackson put his car in gear to reverse out of his spot and drive off.

"Wonder where they're going." You voiced, walking away from the window.

"I think Jackson and Jungkook were talking about a new gym last night with state of the art equipment," Taehyung commented, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Ah oh yeah, sleep." You spoke noticing how tired he looked. "Go to bed, Tae."

"No, we're working on your interaction skills."

"You can't exactly do anything." You laughed. "Just go to bed, I'll go up to my apartment so at least it won't be your light bulbs I break."

"Ah, good idea." Taehyung grinned and yawned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. "Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Taehyung." You watched as he dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving the door wide open as he flopped down on top of his bed. You laughed lightly as you left.

Up in the apartment, Yugyeom was just collecting his belongings to leave for work. A glance at the shoe rack told you Jungkook was out already.

"Have a good day." You sang knowing full well that Yugyeom couldn't hear you and walked through to Jungkook's room. You knew it used to be your room, Taehyung had told you that much and you never had a flatmate, you liked it that way and he didn't mind as you always paid rent on time. But, you couldn't remember what you had in those four walls. Did you have a double bed like Jungkook did? You assumed you didn't have a single bed, it wouldn't make sense to have such a small bed for a grown woman, especially in such a generously sized room. You had to have had a bed that was at least queen size but very likely bigger, considering you were in a long-term relationship and Namjoon had a king size bed in his room next door. Did you have as little furniture as him? Did you also only have the necessities? It was clear Jungkook used his room purely to sleep and store his clothing and private belongings. You wondered if you did the same. Was your style similar to his? The fact that you always felt calm and happy in the room told you that is was very likely that your preferred style was also minimalistic and clean.

You couldn't deny that the two young men left you pleasantly surprised every day when you found the apartment tidy without a foul smell. You never expected two 21-year-olds to be so clean but they were and it made you a little less mad at Taehyung for renting your apartment to the pair without consulting you first. They were respectful of their home and their neighbours. You hated to admit it but Taehyung chose the perfect tenants.

Slowly, you looked around but found nothing small left around for you to practise your interaction skills with. With a huff, you left Jungkook's room to enter Yugyeom's. His room wasn't as immaculate. Yugyeom spent more time in his room but it wasn't at all messy. You would describe Yugyeom's room as "lived in", for the most part, everything was where it belonged and relatively neat but a few varied items were somewhere they didn't belong. A pile of freshly washed clothing on top of the dresser ready to be put away. A pair of shoes at the foot of the bed. One slipper by the bed, the other somewhere out of sight. A hoodie slung over the back of the desk chair. A pile of CD's on the desk looking like they could topple over any moment. A handful of pens spread across the desk around a notebook.

"Pens." You gasped, walking over spotting your opportunity. As the desk chair was tucked under the desk, you stayed stood up and simply rested your left hand on the back of it. You held your right hand over a lone pen and closed your eyes.

That time, you allowed yourself almost 2 whole minutes to focus and imagine the flesh your hand once consisted of. Then you opened your eyes and tried to pick up the item.

If anyone had been in that room right then, they would've seen a single pen float up from the desktop before the stack of CD's finally lost the battle with gravity and clattered noisily to the floor. Of course, they wouldn't have seen that you had accidentally helped gravity win that round.

"Shit." You cursed, putting the pen down to crouch down and quickly pick up the CD's, putting them back in their respective cases to stack them back up in a way you hoped looked similar to how they were originally.

It took a few seconds for what just happened to really click in and then you jumped around excitedly until you decided to test your limits.

You opened the door successfully and closed it again, not noticing it didn't shut fully as you were already skipping off excitedly to test your new skill.

***

Hours went by with you interacting with everything in the apartment. You could even lift the sofa up in both of your arms but you almost dropped it so you decided to quickly and carefully put it back down before it really did slip through your grasp, literally.

It barely occurred to you that Jungkook was due home any minute until you heard keys rattling the lock. You quickly turned the TV back off and tossed the remote onto the couch to run off and duck behind the kitchen counter. As Jungkook walked towards his room after taking off his shoes and jacket, you realised that you didn't need to hide. He couldn't see you.

Without warning, Jungkook stopped mid-step and so did you, fearing he could suddenly see you. But, he was staring at the sofa confused. He could've sworn it was slightly further forward earlier. He quickly shook off the thought though, there was no way Yugyeom would move the couch while he was gone, it was really heavy and required two people to lift. Aside from that, there was no reason to move the furniture less than a foot.

As Jungkook looked away from the couch, he noticed the wires behind the TV looked neater. Yugyeom certainly never touched the wires, technology was Jungkook's area and one of the wires was very temperamental so it always took him ages to find the right position. The fact that it was weird got pushed back as annoyance settled in his mind. He wiggled that wire for a full twenty minute to make sure they got all the channels they paid for. Jungkook approached the sofa and made a move to grab the remote from the armrest but it wasn't there. That was definitely strange. It was an unspoken rule to leave it there so it was easy to find, even Jimin knew the rule. Jungkook's eyes found the remote on the seat and although it bothered him, he simply picked it up and turned the TV. His rational mind declared that the device probably was balanced oddly on the armrest and simply fell onto the cushions, it was the only logical explanation. Quickly, Jungkook flicked through the channels, glad to find they were all still working fine, in fact, they had a few HD channels they didn't have previously at least, he was pretty certain they never had them before.

"Nah." He reasoned aloud. "We must've always had them." He turned the TV off and placed the remote on the arm, where it belonged.

A few other things started to look out of place. Jungkook made his way around the living area, taking mental note of all the things that didn't look right. The number was very high.

While Jungkook wandered around the room, closely scrutinising every single object, an image of your promise ring popped into your mind and you were made aware of the fact that you could move the item.

With a spring in your step, you walked past Jungkook and through the front door.

You didn't notice it but as you passed Jungkook, he shivered. A cold breeze passed him by and he straightened up. Once again, logic kicked in and said that Yugyeom probably left his bedroom window open again but the voice was small and something bigger in Jungkook told him to turn around. So he did.

His heart fell still in his chest as he watched a dark shadow pass through his front door.

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greyias · 7 years

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FIC: Dance with the Devil (2/7)

Title: Dance with the Devil Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Genre: Angst, H/C, Action Synopsis: The cavalry arrives just in the nick of time. Warnings: See Part 1

Part 1 | Crossposted to AO3

The Sith pulled the saber back and then cleaved it down in a violent arc. Instinctively Theron shut his eyes, but instead of the searing pain of the fatal blow, the saber’s angry hum sputtered out into an unruly crash. He cracked open an eye and watched as Dirai tried to swing the blade again, but red sparks bounced off of a wall of blue light mere inches from Theron’s face.

For a moment, both of their anger and adrenaline were dulled with confusion, each staring at the other with a puzzled look as if they knew what was happening. Then Dirai’s confusion melted away as he narrowed his eyes and suspiciously looked up at the ceiling in one sharp movement. Theron frowned, following his gaze just as the dirty skylight exploded into a thousand pieces.

He ducked his head, clamping his eyes shut as a million shards of permaglass rained down them. The tiny shards bounced off the invisible barrier around him, but Dirai had to use his hands to shield himself from the raining debris. A small blonde figure landed in the midst of the chaos, gracefully landing on one knee and balancing herself with one hand, while the other was held up in Theron’s direction as if she were holding up something just in front of him.

She stood, cape billowing behind her as the wind blew in through the now open gap in the ceiling. The Jedi’s face was set in a grim expression, but he could see a few beads of sweat on her forehead as she fought to maintain the Force barrier she had erected to protect Theron from Dirai’s lightsaber. Her eyes were on her opponent, free hand appearing to hang loosely at her side, but Theron could see from the firm set of her jaw that she was resisting grabbing one of the lightsabers clipped to her belt.

Dirai staggered back from his captive with a snarl, sending the shards of glass flying in every direction like a kath hound shaking water from his fur. A few tiny sharp pieces bounced off the barrier, and despite the still ever-present danger of disembowelment via lightsaber, a flare of warmth lit inside of Theron’s gut as he realized that she was here for just one reason — him.

Dirai seemingly forgot about the captured spy, turning towards the newcomer, still-ignited lightsaber swinging carelessly at his side. “Ah, and here I was thinking you would never come.”

The flare of warmth was quickly doused by a cold sensation as Theron watched the Sith stalk his new prey, wondering exactly how much truth there was to his earlier ramblings if he could recognize her so immediately. He swallowed, glancing past the large man to the diminutive woman assessing the situation with a seeming calm. A slight twitch to her fingers betrayed that thin veneer, revealing the emotions she was trying to keep from bubbling to the surface.

“This man is a member of the Alliance,” she said calmly, eyes not straying from Dirai, “and as its commander, I do not take kindly to my people being detained in such a manner.”

That was such a polite way of phrasing the past few days, but leave it to Greyias Highwind to understate the situation so thoroughly while still cutting a figure of authority. Her cape fluttered behind her, wind teasing the loose bangs that hung into her eyes as she stared down the Sith looming over her.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Step away from him. Now.” The steel in her voice brooked no argument.

“I’ve been looking so forward to meeting you,” Dirai practically purred, “Commander is it?”

“If you put your lightsaber away, we can speak more freely.”

A cold prickle of dread worked its way down Theron’s spine. The cultist had never said exactly what he wanted with the Alliance commander, just his maddened quest to meet with her. Or rather, with the Force ghost taking up residence in her head. Theron tried to catch her eye in some vain hope of communicating this, but her attention was divided between maintaining the protective shield around Theron and sizing up her opponent. Another bead of sweat had joined the others on her brow, trickling down her temple in a thin line.

“Commander, he’s—“

“Quiet, worm,” Dirai snarled, pointing his saber back in the direction of his captive, “your betters are speaking.”

The moment his saber had moved, she was already in motion. The hand hanging at her side drew the saber and ignited it in one swift motion. In the blink of an eye she had crossed the gap between herself and the two men, dark purple blade clashing with Dirai’s and deflecting it away from his captive. The blue shimmer surrounding Theron disappeared, and he felt a few of the shards of glass that hadn’t bounced away land in his hair gently.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” she said firmly, an undercurrent of emotion threading through her tone that Theron had only heard once before.

That time he had heard it over a sliced comm channel on Rishi, as she had stared down his ancestor that had been holding him captive and threatened to literally tear the Revanite base apart to find him. It was an anger brought on by panic—or maybe more accurately fear—for losing someone you cared about. For a person who had invested so much of herself into the identity of a model Jedi, it hadn’t been her proudest moment as she had later admitted to him.

After they’d found each other again on Odessen, he’d heard her nearly lose her temper a few times, suppress annoyance at senior staff bickering, the sting of betrayal from an ally as Scorpio’s machinations brought the Eternal Fleet to Odessen — but the barely suppressed protective fury was not something she allowed herself to feel. Or at least, he hadn’t thought it was.

Perhaps he had been too distracted over the past few months by his own fear at losing her again to see the other side of the coin. Watching as her shoulders stooped from the weight of the galaxy pressing down on her had been maddening, but it was the pinched look of masked dread whenever Valkorion appeared that awakened something deeply irrational inside of Theron. Even all these years later, the memory of her clinging to him outside the Coalition Camp on Yavin still stung like a fresh wound, with her broken confession of what the ghost trapped in her head had done to her on their first encounter playing on a constant loop. The need for him to stand between her and that monster was almost as primal as it was implausible, an instinctual holdover from less civilized times.

He had just forgotten that those protective instincts cut both ways.

“He was just a means to an end, and he’s served that purpose now.”

She was almost turned completely away from Theron, so that he could only just see a slim profile of her face, but the even so, he could see her brow tighten a fraction. “Purpose? What purpose does this serve?”

Ah, it probably was too much for him to hope that she hadn’t noticed the… less than prime condition that he was in. His embarrassment at needing to be rescued aside, the fact that she was barely holding on to her normally strong and sound composure was worrying in itself. Whether it was rooted in her worry for him, or due to a slow erosion by the ghost in her head, it still meant that she wasn’t focused like she normally was. And that could prove to be deadly.

“You are here, are you not?”

“I am,” she said slowly, “but if you wanted to talk, there are other ways to get my attention.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me, Commander, it’s not you I wish to speak to.”

Her brow furrowed. “Then why—?”

“Vitiate,” he practically purred the name, “you can stop hiding, I can see you as plain as day.”

She stiffened then, jaw tightening as her eyes flicked over her shoulder, as if listening to an unheard conversation. When Theron realized that the parasite in question had just made an appearance, he felt his own blood start to boil, Dirai’s words about the dead Emperor hollowing out his host echoing endlessly. It was only interrupted by an angry cry of rage.

“Why do you refuse to speak to me?” Dirai snarled.

Grey started, looking confused. “But I am—“

“Not you, you simpering idiot!”

She had the grace to look offended, even as she continued to hold her protective stance, lightsaber not wavering in the slightest.

“My Emperor, I am a much more worthy host—“

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Theron muttered.

“You can not be serious,” she echoed the sentiment flatly. “The man you called Emperor was a monster—“

“I will not stand here and be lectured by some Jedi,” this time Dirai did spit, as if the word left a foul taste in his mouth, “who squanders the gift of true power.”

“He does not make a good point,” she muttered darkly, and it took Theron a moment to realize that the comment wasn’t directed at him or Dirai.

“Even now you refuse to reveal yourself to me,” Dirai seethed. “What must I do to get your attention?”

“Um,” Theron said quietly, “maybe now isn’t the best time for a side-bar with your unwanted guest.”

“If I could make him go away, I would,” she muttered.

Okay, point taken. That was the purpose of this whole, now obviously useless, escapade.

“Perhaps you need me to prove my worthiness?” Dirai continued to mutter to himself. “Yes, a show of power, a proper… sacrifice.” The Sith slid his gaze to the Jedi across from him, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. “Yes.”

Before there was any time to react, a bolt of lightning shot out in their direction, which Grey immediately intercepted with her lightsaber. The purple lightning crackled off the blade, and the Sith gave out an angry cry as he lunged towards her. She drew her second saber in a flash, intercepted his blade before it had a chance to land the killing blow. Their blades were locked together in a quiet tense moment as they stared each other down, before they burst apart, sparks and lightning nearly blinding. By the time the black spots disappeared from Theron’s vision they were already crossing blades again, trading blows faster than the eye could see.

Theron tried to keep track of what was going on, but it was akin to trying to watch an individual spark in a sputter of flames. The light show of the clashing sabers danced around the room, the echoes of the crashing blades almost drowned out by the rumbles of distant explosions. Whoever else as here was making quite a show of things as well.

The duel continued to migrate around the room, sparks flying on each clash of the blade. Dirai was a master of the Juyo form, a pure expression of power as he tried to force the entirety of his will into every swing of his blade and beat his opponent into submission as he wielded his saber in a tight-two handed grip. Occasionally he would switch to one-hand, trying to blast his opponent off her feet with his lightning and attempting to sneak in a killing blow at the same time. On the other end, Grey preferred speed to pure force, twin blades whirling in an unending flurry, feet constantly in motion as she twirled to and fro. She made the Ataru form look almost as natural as breathing, her blades seemingly an extension of herself.

It was a dance that Theron had become intimately familiar with, as when they were fighting side-by-side she seemed to move in rhythm with him, filling in the blank spaces and openings each other left, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together. There was something comforting about feeling her at his back, knowing that nothing would slip past those defenses. Without ever speaking a word, they could predict each others moves, almost moving as one person rather than two. It was a familiarity brought on by trust and intimacy. It should have been a constrictive style of fighting, having to move and compensate for the other person, but somehow it was freeing, allowing him to just exist in the moment.

Still trapped against the table, he could only watch the furious duel from the sidelines — absently feeling like he was missing a limb. Occasionally when the two Force users slowed enough to be seen by the naked eye, he would see a slip in her defenses that he would normally fill, and desperately hoped that her opponent didn’t notice.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dirai let out one angry cry of rage, bringing down his saber in a powerful arc that would cleave durasteel in two. She caught the strike, barely, between her two crossed blades, the power of the blow nearly forcing her to her knees. Even from the distance, Theron could see her muscles twitch and twinge as she struggled to stay upright. He unconsciously jerked forward to her aid, but had gotten so focused on the duel he had neglected to finish his own daring escape. The cuffs held him securely in place, and he could only watch helplessly as a familiar cruel smile quirked at Dirai’s cracked lips.

“Now you see,” his arrogant chuckle practically echoed across the walls of the expansive room, “how your pathetic upbringing has failed you. It’s a pity, with that passion you might have made a fine Sith.”

And like he had flipped a switch, suddenly it wasn’t such a struggle for her to maintain her stance. Shards of permaglass and cracked pieces of duracrete began to float in the air, as if carried by an invisible wave emanating from the small Jedi. A bright, almost blinding light nearly obscured her figure as she stood to her full height, forcing the crossed twin blades towards Dirai.

“I am no Sith.” There was an edge of steel beneath that seemingly calm tone, a clear warning to her opponent. “And none will ever hold any power over me.”

“You Jedi and your stupid platitudes—”

With another burst of light, Dirai was thrown across the room back towards Theron, saber tossed from his hand and rolling across the floor. She advanced forward calmly, the bright halo of light limning her figure like an avenging angel. The Sith looked up at the approaching Jedi, and for a moment, an actual flash of fear stole across his face.

“You are done here, my lord.” There was such a heavy amount of sarcasm laced into those two words, Theron almost didn’t recognize that it had come from her. He had never been prouder in is life. “My companion and I will be leaving now.”

The Sith pushed himself up to his knees, an angry sneer twisting his features into a grotesque visage, as the purple sparks of lightning danced across his fingertips. “I think not.”

Without any further warning, his hand shot up, but not at his dueling opponent, but back towards his captive still strapped to the table. Theron saw the lightning rush towards him, but could only twist helplessly in his bonds, unable to get out of the way. The soft cry of dismay had barely reached his ears before a feminine figure had leapt in front of him just in time to take the full force of the blast.

She dropped to her knees, muscles twitching as the lightning crackled around her. Her sabers dropped from her hands as Dirai cackled triumphantly, apparently channeling all of his rage into the long, continuous blast. Theron’s vision descended into a crimson haze, heart hammering in his ears as he jerked uselessly against the shackles.

“As I said, your Jedi failings betray you. Compassion will always be your undoing.” The discarded saber flew back into Dirai’s hand, red blade hissing to life as he stalked towards his downed prey, holding her in place with the lightning shooting from his fingertips. “Now my Emperor will be freed from his pathetic bonds, and will take up a more worthy vessel.”

Grey could hardly raise her head under the onslaught of lightning, the muscles in her cheeks twitching as the electricity arced across her entire body. He raised the blade of his saber high for a final, powerful strike. So preoccupied with preemptively savoring his victory, Dirai had forgotten just one thing.

“Toxicity ten.”

Theron practically snarled the command to his bracers, his free arm aimed straight at the Sith’s exposed neck. The poison dart shot out from its hidden compartment with a quiet snick and buried itself into Dirai’s trachea. The unrelenting lightning ceased with a sputter of sparks as Dirai staggered back, hand clawing at the dart embedded into his neck. The distinctive thrum was the only warning the cultist had before a dark purple blade speared through his chest, quickly ending his threat before the fast acting poison even had a chance to enter his bloodstream.

He dropped to the ground with a loud thud, eyes staring vacantly up at the ceiling. Grey slowly rose to her feet, not deactivating her lightsaber until she had approached the body on the floor and ensured that he was dead. When she finally turned back to face Theron, there was a practiced mask of calm in place that almost perfectly hid the storm of emotions brewing behind her eyes. The red haze of adrenaline had only started to fade from his own vision, and he was incapable of processing much beyond the mad thumping of his own heart.

She swallowed as she gingerly walked back towards Theron, although be it due to the strain of the duel, or an internal battle she was struggling with was unclear. She glanced at the metal cuffs briefly, as if sizing them up. A dark blond brow narrowed in contemplation, before she shot him a stern look. “Don’t move.”

Her saber reignited in a flash as it glanced across his bindings, and was deactivated and stowed before he could even blink. The cuffs had been the only thing keeping him upright, and he would have crumpled to the ground in a ungraceful heap if two strong hands had not been waiting to catch him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as she was forced to bear all of his weight as he tried to find his feet after three days of confinement.

Her arms encircled him in an embrace that was meant to both keep him upright, and also convey the relief that was pouring off both of them. He wanted to return the gesture in kind, but his limbs weren’t cooperating at the moment. Everything felt heavy, like was trying to lift an entire starship rather than just stand on his own two feet.

“Are you—?” His vision swam for a moment, probably from being fully upright for the first time in days.

“I’m all right,” she murmured, pulling him a little closer. “Let’s focus on you.”

“Just need a moment.” His tongue felt a little thick, like whatever had effected his limbs had spread everywhere. “Then I’ll be good to go.”

She didn’t seem to be listening as she pulled her hand away and stared at it, unable to see anything but the red smear that had come from the ragged, unhealed wound on his side. When she did speak, her voice shook with unrepressed emotion. “What have they done to you?”

“…it’s just a scratch.”

She peered into his eyes a little too closely for it to be a romantic gesture. “They drugged you too?”

Theron shrugged helplessly. If he needed to list everything that had happened during his three days of captivity, they were going to be here for far too long. Her examination was cut short by the ground rocking as another explosion shook the building, and it was only her firm grip under his shoulders that kept Theron on his feet.

“What the hell was that?”

“My backup.”

“Backup’s loud,” he muttered.

“He’s more of a distraction,” she said. “I had intended to free you with minimal violence. Your host’s arrival was unexpected.”

He snorted derisively. “You’re the Jedi master of the understatement.”

She frowned at him worriedly. “We should get you out of here.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, summoning his strength and attempting to push away from her hold so he could walk on his own two feet. “This way.”

She easily kept her grip on him. “Maybe I should lead?”

“S’okay, I got it—”

“No, I really think you don’t—”

Before the argument could descend further, the twin doors leading out from the warehouse to the rest of the building swung open dramatically, the echoes of more explosions triggering off in the distance as one excitable Mon Calmari burst into the room with a triumphant cry of victory.

“Commander, as exciting as this training exercise has been — maybe we should go?”

Theron swung around almost drunkenly, piercing Grey with an incredulous look. “Guss is your backup?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“He’s… he’s…” Theron gestured inarticulately as the Force user in question nervously danced on the balls of his feet. “Guss.”

“I’ll have you know, Guss is an excellent student—”

“Commander, as much as I appreciate you defending my honor,” Guss cut in, “maybe you can extoll my virtues to this tactless spy as we make a hasty retreat? There are some very angry cultists on my tail!”

She gave him a tight nod, and looped Theron’s arm over her shoulders as she started towards the barricaded door leading out to the alleyway. He stumbled alongside her for a few steps, before he pulled away with a sudden burst of energy, circling back the way they came. The exasperated sigh she let out was very un-Jedi-like. He would have told her so, but he was too busy concentrating on keeping one foot in front of the other.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Need my stuff—”

“You could just ask—”

He staggered to a halt in front of the dirty, red jacket that had been nearly forgotten. As he bent over to scoop it up, his head swam again. Only the sudden presence of two steady hands fisting into shirt kept him from taking a tumble to the dirty floor. His fingers found purchase on the red leather, clutching it protectively as his very patient caretaker hauled him back upright.

“Can we go now?”

“Yes,” Theron said airily. “I can walk though.”

She shook her head at him, lips pressing together in a thin line. The sound of feet pounding in the distance caused her to look over her shoulder sharply, and she barked out a terse order to Guss. Theron tried to parse the words, but it was like trying to listen to something underwater. At the urging of the hand pressed into his back he got his shaking feet to take a few shuffling steps towards freedom. If he just focused on his legs, and not the way the world swayed and darkened at the edges of his vision then everything would be fine.

Guss’s lightsaber made quick work of the debris in front of the door, and for the first time in three days Theron could taste freedom. As they stumbled out into the dingy alleyway, he took in a deep breath of the outside air, relishing in the feel of it as the darkness in his vision rolled up to greet him.

#swtor fanfiction #fanfic #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #lightsaber duels ahoy!#oc: greyias highwind #otp: adorkable #theronangstywhumpfest2k17 #swtor #greyfic

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sugarpinecrews · 7 years

Text

title: get with the program word count: 1,550 warning(s): mentions of weapons and murder a/n: here’s another gta au origin story, this time for our boy steven. meant to accompany the parker origin story.

The world always liked to deify those who caused chaos, those who wrought death into innocent lives, dredged bloodstains across clean civilian homes, and Los Santos existed as the epicenter of it all. The heart of the beast, as most came to call it, standing tall with its skyscrapers awaiting heist, its banks with doors practically held open for robbery --- the city existed this way long before Steven Suptic stepped foot upon its soil, and he supposed it would always be this way, always encouraging destruction, always enabling the very violence it supposedly tried so hard to prevent. The city was corrupt, and Steven relished in this fact the moment he arrived.

Steven never dreamt of being a world-renowned criminal. He suffered through a decent childhood, fumbled his way through teenage years with little to no fuss. Hell, he even considered going to college, maybe going into film, or directing, or something else worth putting the rest of his life into. Of course, things never seemed to go as planned, and he instead found himself surrounded by a handful of shady kids involved in all too illegal dealings. One thing led to another, and he soon found himself housing a run-away kid from up north --- a boy two years younger than him, the teenager was the focus of a drug bust gone terribly wrong. With no way to escape his current position within the local underground, the two skip town, beginning a crime spree that would later go down in history as...well, just okay.

The next few years are spent in constant turmoil, with the pair never really being safe enough to settle. Birthdays are spent in dingy motel rooms, the new year is rung in with stolen champagne and friends they would later forget. Every now and again, they would discuss bigger plans; maybe forming a crew someday, maybe permanently residing in some dirty little town and ruling it with an iron fist. All silly hopes, he would say, brushing the thought away for a later time --- they needed to be safe to settle, and they needed to be powerful to be safe. The road to the latter was a long one, but Steven eventually found himself determined to reach the end of it.

Unbeknownst to the pair causing chaos just for the fun of it, word began to spread across the state of their talents. Late one evening, while his partner in crime was fast asleep at his side, Steven found himself on the phone with an up and coming crime lord from the very center of it all, the world renowned Los Santos, California; the man had a crew already running, and he wanted to speak with whoever was behind this crime spree across the coastline and this, as Steven would retell it, is where things got a bit messy ( and not just because he had to slide his way out of their shared bed, miraculously managing to never wake his sleeping friend from slumber ).

By the end of the night, Steven had plans of meeting with this crew leader exactly two weeks to the date, and with his current headquarters being a nightly motel rate maybe half a day away, he was now faced with a dilemma; the man on the other end of the phone didn’t wish to recruit them both --- he only wanted Steven, who immediately insisted upon the fact of that’s fine, he wouldn’t want to come with me, anyway --- and this meant, of course, that a choice had to be made. Did he allow his friend to accompany him, despite the proposed employment spoken to him alone? Or did he simply disappear, a ghost in the night? He tries his best to decide, but time inevitably sneaks up on him.

The night before his departure, he sits his best friend down. He ignores the goofy smile, the dumb voice the man keeps using. He takes a deep breath, averts his gaze elsewhere, before uttering only a partial lie; I’m leaving. I don’t know where I’m going, I just --- ...I need a fresh start, and the conversation is still crystal clear in his mind. The moment of pure silence that followed the words spoken too soft, the way his best friend seemed to lose himself completely for a few seconds. The rest of the evening is spent in unspoken tension, and Steven packs his things and leaves first thing the following morning. His best friend was still sleeping in their shared motel bed when he left, and if Steven forgot to pack a hat or two, well, that was up to his now ex-friend to find out.

Many criminals in the city of Los Santos boasted a life of crime, an upbringing tainted with toddlers aiming guns at strangers, with pacifiers in the form of secrets they were still too young to understand, and Steven very soon learned to simply accept this fact as the norm. It seemed every criminal he met had a story to tell, and in the beginning, he was always just a little too afraid to ignore it; maybe the tale would have an untold meaning, an order they couldn’t yet allow to be plainly spoken. It was a ridiculous notion --- one he would eventually learn to just leave behind --- but at the time he was still, admittedly, a very naive newcomer. Despite his background in the illegal, despite the very reason he moved to this town soaked red, he still thought himself infantile, fresh meat in a sea of carnivorous beasts, careless to a life story he never wished to share.

Life in Los Santos was hectic, sure, but it was a welcomed sense of confusion. He immediately fell into almost constant contact with a local crew, a leading threat in the underground scene of the city, and he slowly but surely began to climb the ranks of this group. Months flew by, and more shots are fired by his hands in this span of time than in any other, but before he even has the chance to move any further up this crew’s chain of leadership, the group begins to fall apart. Pairings split off, smaller groups slip into sides of this world they were never meant to enter. By the end of it, Steven stands alone among the wreckage, left only with a large collection of friends and a nearly nonexistent collection of actual criminal partners. With few options remaining, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

One of his first friends in the city --- a woman with a history too terrifying to mention --- worked frequently with him within the now disbanded crew, and Steven thought it best to simply continue what the two had going to start with; a crew consisting of only two, the Boys Only Crew, formerly known as a name even lamer than their current one, was born. The two bore pale pink hats, tried to tag each job with a different variation of the same logo, and they even discussed filming their shenanigans to eventually post online. In truth, they just tried to have fun with it; unlike before, they were now held to no standards, no expectations of greatness or even being decent, and Steven reveled in this newfound freedom. It reminded him of his past, of a best friend he didn’t wish to think of, but more importantly, it reminded him of the very reason he moved to Los Santos in the first place: to make a name for himself, to amount to something.

These thoughts of someday ruling the city that barely knew his name haunted him, lurking in the back of his mind as he robbed local gas stations, new best friend at his side; repetition was a cruel beast, and routine was just another name for suicide --- disappointment soon presented itself, clear as day, pulling apart his poor choices each and every night. He wanted to become something greater than what he currently was, just a nobody with a handful of now washed-up criminal friends; he wanted something more, he just lacked the motivation to try...at least, that was until he received a surprise visitor in the dead of the night.

It is two in the morning, and he hears a knock at the front door. Instinct insists upon him grabbing a gun as he approaches, and it also pushes him to aim the firearm forward as soon as he swings the door open; unexpectedly, he is greeted by a familiar face, one who still, to this very day, refuses to share how he even found Steven’s new residence in the first place. Despite this fact, he is forever grateful to face his supposed ex-best friend once more, to see that goofy smile, to hear that ridiculous voice that haunted his dreams ever since the two first parted --- this resurgence of motivation drives Steven to actually focus on his career for once, and within the next few months, the Sugar Pine Crew has officially been born. A crew comprising of himself, his friends, and a handful of useful contacts, they hope to someday rule this city with an iron fist ( or...at least to be well known enough to considered important --- that’s not asking too much, right? ).

#gta au #sugar pine 7 #sugar pine crew #the winter and the wolves. | my writing.

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imsarabum · 7 years

Text

Pure Panic // Jackson Wang

Pairing: Jackson x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Drama, slight Angst

Summary; Jackson receives confusing, devastating news that you’ve been severely injured, so he gets on the next flight back to Korea to try and find you.

Reminder; (Y/F/N) = Your Full Name

Reminder; (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name

After jumping into a taxi outside your apartment block and telling the driver the address of the hair salon you were going to, you searched through your bag - only to realise that in your haste to leave as quickly as possible; you completely forgot to bring your battery pack to charge your phone that was currently on 3%.

“Damn it!” you screamed to yourself, not being able to believe how stupid you were. Just then, a text from Jackson popped up; your battery now going from 3% to 2% upon receiving it.

FROM: Jacks ^_^

Are you in the taxi now babe? We’re just finished with the show and now we’re chilling watching TV in JB’s suite”

“Ah...he has free time now and I won’t be able to talk to him...” you winced, feeling all the more sorry for yourself seeing as Jackson was still in Japan at one of GOT7’s fanmeets. They were all due to come home in two days from now, but you still missed him with all your heart with every second that passed. Knowing that your phone was about to die at any given moment, you quickly text him back.

TO: Jacks ^_^

Yes I’m in the taxi now. Phone is about to die, I left my charger at home T-T I’ll text you when I get back! Love you”

No sooner had you pressed send and saw the little ‘Read’ sign next to your message, your phone decided to rest in peace altogether. “At least I got to tell him” you let out a heavy sigh as the taxi made a left turn on to one of the busiest intersections in Gangnam.

“Looks like there’s a lot of traffic today Miss – are you in a hurry?” the taxi driver informed you, making you look forward to see the long line of cars slowly inching along the road.

“It’s okay – I’ve got loads of time anyways, it’s just a hair appointment” you replied cheerily. Just as the driver was about to continue having friendly small talk with you, you received the biggest shock of your life in the form of another car ramming into the back of the taxi you were currently in. You let out a scream, hearing the sound of clashing metal and feeling a strong impact on your right shoulder and arm from the crushed trunk that was now in beside you in the back seat. The taxi driver screamed and shouted too; as the whole car jolted forward to hit the next car in front – causing a long line of a domino effect to the car in front of you, and so on.

“Miss! Are you okay? Miss?” the taxi driver turned round in his seat once the shaking and movement stopped to see you as white as a ghost – your eyes glancing backwards and forwards as you felt a cold sweat of sheer terror cover you from head to toe.

“Y-yes I think so...” you muttered, feeling a horrible, dull ache present throughout your entire right arm. As far as you could tell, it wasn’t broken and the rest of you was completely fine. “Are you okay Sir?” you asked back, seeing him nod at you in turn.

Not even 10 minutes later, a series of ambulances and police cars rolled up on to the scene to treat any injuries and to find out who caused the now massive pile up and how it happened. Your wonderful taxi driver managed to help you get out of the banged up car with ease – letting you lean on him for support as you noticed the beginnings of what appeared to be you having a panic attack.

You tried to reassure the paramedic attending to you that you were okay and that your hyperventilation was just due to the shock of the whole situation – but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Please Miss, it would be best to go to the hospital and get checked out. Your shoulder and arm definitely need to be treated. Your blood pressure is sky high and your breathing is very erratic; you must come in the ambulance” she instructed you in a more than authoritative tone. No sooner had her words left her mouth; you began feeling sick and dizzy. You knew in your heart of hearts that it was just because of everything happening all at once, but it just caused the paramedic more concern. In less than a minute, another paramedic joined her; and they had you strapped into a stretcher on wheels with an oxygen mask over your mouth. And before you knew it, you were being taken to the hospital in the back of an ambulance; the only thought in your mind being “Shit! My phone is dead...how will I get in contact with Jackson?!”

“Isn’t there a Korean channel on this thing? I can’t understand anything they’re saying...” BamBam whined as he lay on the couch next to Mark and Yugyeom.

“Learn Japanese then!” Jaebum whined back to him jokingly, with Jinyoung and Youngjae lying comfortably on either side of him on his king-size hotel bed.

“I’ll learn Japanese when you start speaking English, hyung~” BamBam retorted playfully, the rest of the boys all making O shapes with their mouth and letting a series of ‘Oooo’s’ into the atmosphere.

“Watch it BamBam – hyung will smother you with a pillow in your sleep if you keep being that cocky” Jackson – who had just returned from the bathroom, spoke in a comedic tone as he made his way over to the empty chair on the other side of the room. As all of the boys laughed and began joking about with each other, Jackson couldn’t help but check his phone for any messages from you. Even though he knew your phone was dead, it had become second nature for him to always see if you were trying to reach him.

“Alright, I’ll put on the Korean channel. But – I think it’s just the KBS news channel” Jaebum hummed as he flicked through the T.V listings. “Ah! I was right. But at least everyone will understand” he chuckled to himself before lying back down in between Jinyoung and Youngjae.

Everyone continued to idly watch the news channel – everyone that was, except Jackson.

“Ugh...why do I miss her so badly today?” he pined to himself as he flicked through the many selfies he had of you saved to his phone. Jackson was the type of boyfriend to miss you every single second of every single day he had to spend without you – but for some reason or other, today seemed like it was worse. Completely engrossed in his phone and his many pictures of you, Jackson completely blocked out the several news headlines that the anchorwoman was reading out.

“...and we have some breaking-news here for the residents of Gangnam-ku in Seoul. There has been widespread panic across one of the biggest and busiest intersections in the city as a car who failed to brake in time caused a massive pile-up to happen along the main road. So far, it appears that no one has died, but there have been 18 accounts of mild to serious injuries. We go live now to our reporter, Pak Songju on the scene. Please be advised that some viewers may find this footage upsetting...”

Six out of seven boys watched on in horror as the camera panned high above the mile long road of cars, bikes, trucks and lorries that littered the entire scene. “Oh my god...” Yugyeom mouthed in silence.

“Wow...I hope everyone’s okay” Jinyoung said with a lump in his throat as the camera moved to a different shot of live, on the scene footage of people being treated by paramedics and passerby’s helping people out of cars and making sure no one was left behind in the debris. As they continued to watch – and as Jackson continued to smile at your adorable face on his screen, the other six boys suddenly widened their eyes; not believing what they were seeing.

“Oh my god...that’s (Y/N)!” Youngjae shouted as he pointed to the screen,

“Jackson – look!” Mark threw a pillow over towards Jackson to catch his attention.

“Huh? What?” Jackson lifted his head, being met by their horrified faces as they all screamed at him to look at the T.V.

Jackson felt like every ounce of blood in his body had turned deathly cold at the sight of you being lifted into the back of an ambulance. He could just about make out your face that was covered by a huge oxygen mask. In that moment, he didn’t know what to do; for there was nothing he could do except sit like a deer caught in headlights and watch as they closed the ambulance doors behind you.

“(Y/N)...” Jackson whispered as his eyes widened to their full capacity. “Oh my god – (Y/N)! What happened? What was that?!” Jackson stood up immediately before running over towards the T.V, trying to catch the tail end of the writing on the screen.

“There was a huge accident at the intersection in Gangnam...if that’s (Y/N)...then...” BamBam trailed off, every single one of their hearts feeling like they had stopped beating.

“Did (Y/N) tell you she was going anywhere? Call her and find out!” Jinyoung bolted up in the bed along with the other boys who were now all sitting up straight.

Jackson reached for his phone – before letting out a panicked, frustrated sigh. “She text me like half an hour ago to let me know she was on her way in a taxi to a salon and that her phone was about to die...” he spoke quickly, feeling like his soul was about to leave his body at the image of you on a stretcher burned into the back of his mind. Without needing another moment to think, Jackson had already fully decided what he was going to do.

“Guys – I have to go. I have to get a flight back to Korea right now. I’m sorry, but I have to” he spoke quickly, his mouth going dry and his mind going into overdrive with the thought of you being severely injured without him being there to be by your side. Jaebum quickly took to his feet, standing up to come to the same level as Jackson.

“Go – don’t worry about anything else and get a hold of manager-hyung so he can take you to the airport. We’ll sort everything else out. Just get to her and make sure she’s okay, alright?” Jaebum walked out of his suite with Jackson, following him into his shared room with BamBam and Mark to help him pack the bare minimal essentials.

“Hyung...what if she’s hurt? What if she d-“

“Don’t Jackson – don’t jump to conclusions. If she’s on her way to the hospital, she’s in good hands. They’ll take care of her, I promise you” Jaebum’s leader instinct had already fully kicked in as he began gathering Jackson’s passport and throwing a few items of clothing and chargers into Jackson’s hand-luggage bag.

“I don’t even know what hospital they’ve taken her to! What do I do JB?!” Jackson held back tears of pure fear as Jaebum handed him his bag and took out his own phone to begin calling their manager.

“All you can do is start by calling all of the hospitals near that intersection. One of them has her – so keep trying until you find her. Then, when you land – if you still haven’t found which one, keep going until you do. Tell them you’re her boyfriend and leave your name and number for them to get in contact with you if they hear anything” Jaebum put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort, letting him know with his eyes that he understood how scared he was.

Around forty-five minutes later, Jackson and his manager arrived at Tokyo Haneda airport. After buying their tickets to fly back to Incheon, Jackson continued to go through a list of hospitals situated in Seoul that were sorted alphabetically on a web-page he had found. He had also tried calling your friends and people you knew – but all of them just replied in shock to find out that you had seemingly been involved in a serious accident. During the whole two hours he had to wait for his flight to board, and even right up until the air-hostess instructed Jackson to switch his phone to flight-mode, he kept calling hospitals in the hope of one of them being able to put his mind at rest. Unfortunately, none of the hospitals he had called were able to locate you on their system; leaving Jackson to sit and completely lose his mind during the entire two and a half hours it took from Haneda airport, back to Incheon in Seoul.

It had been a little over four hours since you arrived at the hospital – having to go through check after check to make sure that you weren’t in any serious danger of having a concussion or internal bleeding. After a few scans and x-rays, your attending doctor told you that you were perfectly fine - with just a nasty sprain to your arm and to look forward to a lovely bruise on your right shoulder; thanks to the impact of the car that rammed you from behind. As you were waiting for the last of your IV fluids to finish, a nurse came round with a sling for you to place your arm in.

“Come back for a check-up appointment in 4 weeks time, and don’t hesitate to come back before then if you feel that your condition is getting worse” he smiled at you as he removed the needle from your arm and put a band-aid in its place.

“Thank you for taking good care of me. By the way, where do I go to sort out my medical bill and insurance?” you asked him as you took to your feet, patting down the hospital bed behind you as you prepared to leave the day ward you had been placed in.

“After you sign your discharge papers – you can head down to the first floor to settle that! Don’t worry, it’s well sign posted and you can’t miss it!” he politely informed you as you grabbed your belongings and clutched your poorly arm in close to your body – supported by the sling.

As soon as Jackson arrived in Incheon, he didn’t waste any time in turning his phone back on as he continued where he left off on the list in Japan. He had just arrived into central Seoul via taxi, when he dialled the number for a University hospital – ready to give the same spiel he had been giving to every single person that answered the phone.

“Good afternoon, Gangnam University hospital – how can I help you?”

“Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me if a (Y/F/N) was admitted to this hospital today? I’m her boyfriend – Jackson Wang, and I know she was involved in the intersection pile up but I have no idea which hospital she was taken to or if she’s even okay...” he spewed all in one breath – not giving up hope of finding you just yet.

“One moment please, Sir” the assistant on the line replied. Jackson waited patiently as he heard the tapping of keyboard keys in the background, before the assistant addressed him once more.

“I’m going to put you through to the female day-ward – please hold the line, Sir”

Jackson’s heart jump-started in his chest as he stared out the window of his taxi, not paying attention to anything outside – rather, he just stared into the distance; hoping with all his heart you were there, and that you were okay.

“Hello, you’re through to female medical day-ward – how can I help you?”

Jackson repeated the same thing he had just repeated to the previous voice on the phone, slightly out of breath this time as he grew more and more impatient with all the handling about that was being done with no clear answers being given to him.

“Ah, yes! (Y/N) was admitted to our ward earlier on today. But –“

“Thank you very much, I’m on my way!” Jackson cut her off before she could say anything else, before hanging up the phone and telling the driver to take him to the University hospital as quickly as possible. He felt slightly bad for just rudely hanging up on the ward-nurse, but all he could think about was getting to you and making sure you’re okay. Alas, he was thankful that finally, he knew where you were and he could have you in his arms sooner – rather than later.

“Thank you very much Miss (Y/L/N) and we hope you recover soon. Please take care on your way home!”

You had just finished sorting out your medical insurance that paid for your treatment and pain medication fee’s after you signed the discharge papers back up at the ward. You returned the hospital staff’s kind goodbye, before putting your purse back in your bag.

“Ahh...okay. Let’s go to the store and pick up some food before going home and charging this damn phone” you said to yourself as you gathered up your bag and began walking in the direction of the busy front exit. You couldn’t help but think about how much you personally disliked hospitals – always thinking they were so lonely and sterile; but you were thankful that every member of staff you encountered seemed so kind and friendly towards you.

“Shit – do I have enough money to get a taxi?” you thought as you continued to walk towards the exit while simultaneously rummaging through your bag to try and find some loose change at the bottom. However, while you had your head hung between your shoulders in search of money; you didn’t even see Jackson as he dodged through the crowd of people at the main entrance – running straight past you to make his way to the ward you had just came from.

Jackson ran up the escalator – excusing himself for being a nuisance to other people as he carefully barged through them while following the signs that lead him to female medical. Upon arrival to the ward, Jackson rushed up to the front desk – his chest heaving from the amount of running he had just put himself through.

“Are you okay, Sir?” the same nurse who had just gotten you to sign your discharge papers asked upon seeing Jackson almost doubled over and out of breath.

“My girlfriend – (Y/F/N) was admitted to this ward earlier on today – I came as soon as I found out which hospital she was taken to by the ambulance” he barely managed to utter as he ran his hand through his brown locks to sweep his bangs off his slightly perspired forehead.

“I’m sorry, Sir...(Y/N) was discharged...well – not even ten minutes ago. You must have missed her on her way out! She may still be down settling her medical fee’s – perhaps you can get her there?” the nurse apologised to him, seeing ten levels of woe painting Jackson’s face.

“Discharged? You mean – she’s okay? She’s not hurt?” Jackson asked worriedly.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Under the strict confidentiality act this hospital runs under, I’m afraid I’m not in a position to disclose (Y/N)’s medical details with you – even if you say you are her boyfriend. I hope you can understand” the nurse stood up to get ready to do another set of rounds on other patients on the ward. Jackson clicked his tongue in annoyance, while he thought “Wow – what an asshole”

“Yeah, I understand...thanks for nothing” Jackson muttered under his breath, before turning on his heel and sprinting back in the direction he just came from.

Since locating enough spare change from the bottom of your bag, you managed to flag down a taxi – thankful that this time; you weren’t involved in another pile up. After getting dropped off at your local convenience store around 20 minutes later, you decided to go for some lazy cuisine since you didn’t have full use of your arm to make anything more impressive – other than cup ramen. You also decided to pick up some sweets and crisps; justifying your unhealthy meal in your mind with thoughts such as “I’m poorly – I deserve to pig out!”

Once you had paid for your items, you began walking the 3 minute walk back to your apartment block; taking your time as you dawdled along the footpath with your handbag and convenience store bag around your good arm. Upon walking inside your building, you strode straight up to the elevator and pressed the button – not even looking to see which floor it was on as you began trying to pull out your key from your pocket.

“Agh! Life with only one arm is so difficult...” you became more and more frustrated as you looked down to your pocket – the weight of the bags hanging off your elbow digging into your skin; before you finally grabbed a hold of your keys. At that moment, you heard the elevator doors open in front of you – and without raising your head to walk forward, you began to take a step inside; only to find that you had just walked straight into someone who had just rode the elevator to the ground floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I –“ you raised your head, seeing none other than your boyfriend – Jackson, standing in front of you; looking like he had just come home from war.

“Jackson?! What are...why aren’t you in Japan? What’s going on?!” you were almost at a loss for words as you couldn’t believe he was actually standing right in front of you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why are you carrying all these bags? Why did you leave the hospital? Why didn’t you go straight home? Where did you go? Why didn’t you wait for me to come and get you?!” Jackson let question after question fall from his mouth at a rapid-fire rate as he took all your bags off you and placed them on the floor.

“They discharged me because nothing was wrong! How could I have waited for you when I didn’t even know you were looking for me?! How did you even know where I was?!” you shouted back at him – completely dumbfounded and spellbound at his sudden appearance. Jackson let out a massive, relieved sigh – his emotions almost getting the best of him as he reached out and pulled you straight into his embrace; only to hear you yelp in his ear.

“Ow! JACKSON! My arm!” you squealed.

“Fuck! Sorry – I forgot, I’m so sorry (Y/N)...I just...I needed to see you and make sure you were okay I –“ he paused, cupping your cheeks with his hands as he looked down into your confused face – noticing your arm in the sling that made his heart clench even tighter. “I saw the accident on the news and there was a shot of you being taken away in an ambulance and I didn’t know if you were alive or dead or if you were okay...so I got on the next flight back home and rang every single hospital I could find...you scared the living shit out of me (Y/N)...” Jackson closed his eyes as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“...you saw me on the news? Agh...” you sighed, feeling more than humiliated now with the knowledge that millions of people probably watched you being carried off to the hospital. “You...you came all the way back from Japan...for me?” you stepped back slightly, looking up to his face and noticing that his expression had gone from pure panic, to somewhat more relaxed and relieved.

Carefully, Jackson put his arm around your left shoulder – being careful not to hurt you again as he pulled you in gently to his body. “Of course I came back...I didn’t know what the hell happened to you and I couldn’t get in contact with anyone who could help” his voice dropped as his free hand latched on to your waist. “I’ve...I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I was so far away and there wasn’t anything I could do so – of course I came back. I had to find you...I had to make sure you were okay, (Y/N)” he whispered coarsely, and you could clearly see evidence of him obviously having cried before bumping into you that was staining his cheeks.

“I made my way to your apartment after finding out you got discharged...and I was banging on your door for ages. I thought that...I thought – I don’t know what I thought. I just –“

“Shh, it’s okay – I’m here, right? I’m here and I’m safe and I’m with you and everything’s okay, see?” you quickly pressed your lips to his to silence his unsettled babbling – standing on your tip-toes slightly to reach him as he returned your sweet kisses. In a matter of moments, you parted your lips further as Jackson deepened the kiss – and you could feel all of his pent up stress and emotions in the way his mouth moulded with yours with both of you still standing in front of the elevator.

“I seriously...can’t believe you got on a bloody plane to come and make sure I was okay” you finally chuckled into his face once the heat of the moment smouldered and simmered down.

Jackson gave you a faint side-smile, dropping his head in embarrassed defeat while giggling to himself. “I would do anything to make sure you’re safe. You seriously have no idea how worried I was – I just got up and left. The boys are still in Japan” he chuckled along with you as you shook your head in playful disbelief.

“Well...at least we can have two days to ourselves without any interruptions then – yes?” you donned a cute smile with somewhat of a twinkle present in your eye as Jackson reached down to pick up your bags, before pressing the button to open the elevator doors.

“Exactly – and Nurse Wang is gonna take good care of you the entire time. Because – you know why?” he ushered you into the elevator with his arm still around you – pressing your floor number before the doors closed behind you both.

“Why?” you asked – but you already knew what he was going to say.

“Because I would literally hop on a plane and fly all around the world to see you if you asked me to. I’ve proven it now, right?” he paused, listening to you cackle at his cheesiness as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more.

“And because, I love you – with all that I am; and all I ever hope to be, (Y/N)”

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