#i didn't notice how far time had gone until the date line popped up in the messenger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

Hello! Fic request please. Okay, so TK and Carlos never got together. During the Boba date, TK let Carlos know that they should be friends and Carlos understood. So they became good friends but TK just self sabotages a lot so he loved Carlos then but didn't want to let Carlos in so he thought it better to just let him go and settle for a friendship. So one day, they decide to check out this new place for lunch. TK excuses himself for the bathroom and he hears this huge explosion and feels the impact. When he gets out, it's a fiery mess. All that is on his mind: I have to find Carlos. Even when the 126 respond to the explosion, TK refuses to leave until he has found Carlos. Carlos is found unconscious, injured and with severe smoke inhalation. 📍

holly's august extravaganza day 13: couldn't utter my love when it counted

thank you! you've given me such wonderful prompts and it's been a pleasure to write every single one of them! 💚😊

ao3 | 3k | canon divergence, explosions, major character injury, angst with a happy ending, love declarations

TK has made a lot of mistakes in his life, but undoubtedly one of the biggest was letting Carlos Reyes go. He hates the person he was back then, the one who was too blind to see that what he needed—what he wanted—was right in front of him, in a very literal sense.

“How long are you going to avoid talking about it TK?”

“Us?”

“What are we? Are we even a ‘we’?”

TK wants to say yes. He looks at Carlos with his soulful brown eyes and kind tilt to his mouth and he just knows that this is someone he could let in. He’s already seen some of TK’s darkest depths, and yet he’s still here, still asking, still wanting to be with him.

Then again, Carlos isn’t the only one who has been with him despite, and the last person who did that ended up growing tired of him. Carlos would promise against it if he knew what TK was thinking, but it’s an impossible promise to make, far easier said than done. He isn’t that kind of person, TK knows this—but then, neither was Alex, until he was.

He can’t risk it. Besides, he barely recognises his life anymore, and he can’t ask Carlos to hang around indefinitely until he can get his head in order again. If there’s one thing TK is certain of, it’s that Carlos is a good man, and he doesn’t deserve to have to deal with all of TK’s bullshit, however much TK may want it.

So. That’s it.

“I like you, Carlos. I want to get to know you better. But as friends. I’m not in a place for a relationship—I don’t know if this is where I belong, or even if I can be a firefighter anymore. And I just. I just think that I have to work out who I am before I can let someone else in on that, you know? So… Can we? Be friends, I mean?”

Carlos would be well within his rights to say no, after all. But instead he smiles, a little sad, but still as gentle as ever, and says, “Sure. I’d love that.”

TK realised three things pretty quickly after that moment.

One: Austin is his home.

Two: He belongs at the firehouse—but as a paramedic.

And three: He is in love with Carlos Reyes.

But his moment has come and gone. That conversation is the kind that can’t be taken back; the damage has been done, and now TK has to live with the consequences. It’s not all bad—he still has Carlos in his life, and things are… Things are good. They hang out regularly, they have an ongoing text thread, there’s no awkwardness or resentment between them. All things considered, they’re in a better place than they were back during their pseudo-dating phase.

But still, TK misses him.

It’s a strange feeling, missing someone who’s right there beside him. TK hadn’t realised how much he would lose when they became ‘just friends’ for real, but now he finds himself noticing more and more the absence of a flirty twinkle in Carlos’s eye or the suggestive lilt to his words. There’s still an air around them, a sense that, if he just pushed a little, they could easily tip over into more. Into whatever they were on their way to becoming before TK drew his line in the sand.

He won’t, though. It wouldn’t be fair—Carlos has already put up with so much from him that it’s a miracle he’s even still around at all—and TK is not willing to risk what is now the best friendship of his life. If having Carlos in his life means keeping his hands to himself and forever refusing the urge to kiss him senseless, then it’s a small price to pay.

“You’re such an ass!” TK shoves Carlos lightly as they walk down the street, rolling his eyes at the smirk sent his way. “Why can’t you just suck it up and accept that maybe you don’t know Austin as well as you think you do?”

Carlos raises a solitary eyebrow. “Because I’ve lived here my entire life?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Besides,” he cuts in, before Carlos can come back with some other stupid, logical argument, “this place only popped up a few months back so there’s no way you’ve had enough time to make a proper judgement.”

“And you have?”

“Shut up.”

Carlos laughs and, though TK tries to glare at him, he can’t help but be drawn into it. He shakes his head and looks down to avoid Carlos’s eyes, only for his gaze to catch on their hands, swinging in sync mere centimetres apart. How he aches to close that distance and thread their fingers together; to tell Carlos everything he’s been pushing down for months—

Carlos lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair, and the moment is broken. If he noticed TK’s lapse, then he doesn’t show it, instead turning to him with an amused smile. “Alright,” he says, “how about this? You take me wherever this is, and next time, I’ll take you to the actual best pizza place in Austin; then we’ll see who’s right.”

TK wishes he could kiss that self-satisfied smirk off his face. See how smug he is then.

“Fine,” he agrees. “Prepare to eat your words, Reyes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

God, TK hates him.

Carlos is being infuriatingly quiet as they eat, and it’s grating on TK’s every nerve. TK is well aware he’s doing it for that exact purpose, but he’s never been known for his patience—a fact which Carlos knows all too well and is rudely taking advantage of.

“So?” TK demands, folding his arms on the tabletop. “Was I right, or was I right?”

Carlos hums, pretending to consider the slice in his hand with great care. Then, he meets TK’s eyes and drops it back on the plate, re-settling in his seat with a shit-eating grin. “It was okay.”

TK’s mouth drops open. He blinks at Carlos for a good few seconds, then snaps his jaw shut with a click, shaking his head and sighing. “I hate you,” he grumbles, refusing to look Carlos in the eye.

Carlos has the audacity to actually laugh. “No, you don’t,” he says, and he doesn’t know quite how true that is. TK feels a blush start to rise on his cheeks, which cannot happen, so he clears his throat and slides out of his seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he says. “Maybe you’ll have reconsidered by the time I come back.”

TK can’t stop a grin from forming the second he turns his back, his heart doing a stupid little dance in his chest. He doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is bright red, and he’s going to have to splash a significant amount of water over him before he can even think about facing Carlos again.

He takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.

Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.

But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken.

For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.

That’s when the explosion rips through the building.

He’s floating.

He’s… He doesn’t… Something’s not right. Something…

Underwater. He can’t hear anything and he’s floating and he’s underwater, except he can’t be because he was just in a restaurant with Carlos and they were talking and—and—

The world slams back into him with the force of a freight train and TK coughs as he instantly feels like his entire body is being compressed, his airways closing up. It takes a few seconds to realise his eyes are closed and several more before he can open them, only to be met with even more darkness.

He blinks—so he definitely has opened them—but he still can’t see a damn thing. Is he… He can’t be blind. He can’t.

TK’s chest tightens even further and the panic causes his limbs to twitch, to scrabble at the ground, and the movements must be enough to dislodge something because suddenly there’s light streaming into his eyes. He slams his eyelids shut instinctively, and it’s a long moment before he can crack them open again.

His surroundings come to him in bits and pieces. To his left, a pile of cracked porcelain—the sink, he realises. The floor glitters with a material TK can’t identify until he catches sight of his reflection in a shard of glass just in front of him. And on top of him, something heavy, rough—wood?

The door!

Slowly, agonisingly, he manages to shift to all fours, then to his knees, then finally staggers to his feet. He sways in place, watching the bathroom door hit the floor, and—that’s strange. It doesn’t make a sound.

He can’t hear anything, actually, aside from a faint, high-pitched ringing. The paramedic in him tells him that this is a bad thing, but he feels separate from both his brain and his body; he’s floating somewhere outside his body, this whole situation feeling like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.

A thought drifts through his mind then. No, not a thought, a name.

Carlos.

He was with Carlos. He has to find Carlos.

TK stumbles forward, grabbing onto anything within reach as the battle to stay upright gets harder with each second that passes. An intense heat hits him as he makes it into what he thinks is the main seating area and the change in atmosphere is instant—thick, black smoke invades his lungs, sending him back to his knees, body heaving with coughs.

The restaurant is on fire and TK can barely keep his eyes open as he searches for any sign of Carlos. He forces his aching body further, any pain taking a back-seat as the need to find Carlos grows. He’s still not sure what’s happening or how they got in this mess, but he knows that Carlos is in danger, and TK isn’t going to let him die. Not now. Not ever, if he can help it.

He crawls through the restaurant, blind and deaf to where he’s going, but he’ll know it’s Carlos when he finds him. He knows he will. There’s nothing that could stop him from recognising Carlos.

TK doesn’t know what’s happening when he suddenly feels himself being lifted, something bulky being placed over his face. It’s a shock, the sensation of being able to breathe clean oxygen, and it goes to his head for a moment, the dizziness growing even as his vision begins to clear up.

He catches sight of 126 emblazoned on a helmet and familiar, worried eyes looking down at him, and that’s when it connects. His family are here, they’re here, but Carlos is still somewhere and TK is not leaving without him. He struggles in his father’s grasp, managing to squirm and flail enough to get his feet on the floor and for his dad’s grip on him to falter.

But the relief is momentary; no sooner is he standing than the vertigo and nausea takes over, and he crumbles.

This time, when the world goes black, it stays that way.

They tell him it was a gas explosion in the restaurant’s kitchen. They say he’s lucky to be alive, that his trip to the bathroom saved him. They say he needs plenty of rest and time to heal.

They don’t tell him anything about Carlos.

TK asks, he’s been asking since the moment he woke up in the hospital. But the team knows nothing and the doctors keep saying to focus on his own injuries rather than worrying about someone else.

Someone else, as if that’s all Carlos is. He’s the love of TK’s fucking life, but they might never get the chance to be anything more than friends; TK has seen the news. His dad had switched it off the second he caught him watching it, but he’d seen enough to know that survivors are few, and, of those, most of them weren’t as lucky as TK.

His injuries were serious, but they’ll heal. He’ll probably have scars from the shrapnel from when the explosion first went off and from the burns he acquired looking for Carlos, and he’s going to have one hell of a tinnitus case for a while, but it’s nothing. Less than nothing.

He’s alive, which, if Carlos is dead or dying, is far more than he deserves.

On his fifth day in hospital, they tell him he can go home later. He should be grateful, but it just feels like another thing that’s happened to him in a long line of things. He’s waiting for his dad to come back from picking his prescription up when there’s a knock at the door, and TK looks up to see an older Latino couple, the woman looking at him with a deep sadness in her eyes.

“I… Are you TK?” she asks haltingly.

TK frowns and nods, surprised by the relief that floods her face when he does. He doesn’t have to wonder for long, though.

“I’m Andrea. Carlos’s mother. This is his father, Gabriel.” She gestures to the man next to her, who nods at TK, his mouth pinched. TK swallows nervously, terror building in him at the thought of what Carlos’s parents could be doing here. “The doctors tell us you’ve been asking about our son,” Andrea continues. “We wanted to come and talk to you and give you the news ourselves.”

TK swears his heart stops in his chest. “Is he…”

He can’t get the words out, can’t put the idea into existence, but Andrea clearly picks up on what he’s thinking as she crosses the room, taking his hands in hers.

“He’s alive,” she says. “He… He lost a leg in the explosion and his lungs were damaged from the smoke, but the doctors have told us that the worst danger has passed. We’re just waiting for him to wake up now.” Andrea pauses, biting her lip. She looks at Gabriel, then back to TK, releasing his hands. “How do you know our son? Are you…”

“We’re friends,” TK says, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. “He’s the best friend I’ve got. Thank you for telling me.”

He leaves his number with Andrea and Gabriel, and they promise to keep him updated on Carlos’s condition.

Four days after TK goes home, he gets a phone call to say that Carlos is awake. He’s back at the hospital within the hour, racing as fast as he can (which, infuriatingly, isn’t very fast right now) to the room number they gave him.

The sight he’s greeted with just about takes his breath away.

Carlos smiles at him, and he’s covered in bandages and scrapes and he’s clearly exhausted, but he’s smiling, and TK swears he’s never looked more beautiful. He stands in the doorway for a long time, just staring at Carlos for the first time in nine days, so captivated by him that he doesn’t notice the knowing look that passes between Andrea and Gabriel.

“We’ll give you boys some time to catch up,” Gabriel says. He pats TK’s shoulder when they walk past him, and it’s enough to spur him back into action.

TK crosses the room in three quick strides, reaching for Carlos’s hand the second he’s settled in the chair. He almost sobs when he feels Carlos squeeze his hand back; it’s weak, more just a twitch of the fingers, but it feels like everything.

“Hi,” Carlos says, his voice quiet and raspy.

TK sniffs, opens his mouth to say hi back, but maybe the explosion knocked him about more than he realised, because what comes out instead is, “I love you.”

Their eyes widen at the same time, a flush rising on TK’s face as he processes what he just did. “I—I’m so sorry, Carlos, I—” He shakes his head and tries to pull his hand back, but Carlos’s grip tightens, keeping him firmly in place.

“Say it again,” he demands.

TK blinks. “What?”

“Say it again.”

He hesitates another second, but the slight uptick to Carlos’s lips gives him the confidence he needs to look Carlos in the eyes.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for the longest time and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t see it before. I was scared, and I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle a relationship, and I figured it would be easier to let you down than risk hurting us both when we inevitably realised it couldn’t work out.

“But I was so wrong, Carlos. Back at the restaurant, after the explosion, all I cared about was finding you and making sure that you were okay. I couldn’t stand the thought that anything might have happened to you, and I’ve been going out of my mind since it happened because I didn’t know how you were. I—I can’t lose you, Carlos.”

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the tears beginning to gather in his eyes, attempting a trembling smile to match Carlos’s own. “I love you,” he whispers. “If it’s too late, then I understand. I just. I need you in my life. I need you, Carlos. However you’ll have me.”

Carlos holds his gaze for a long time after TK has finished speaking, and it feels like he’s seeing right through him. Eventually, after so long that TK’s lost all sense of time, he slowly raises his hand, brushing his knuckles across TK’s cheek, then coming to rest on the back of his neck.

“I love you, too.”

And the light pressure from Carlos’s hand is all the invitation TK needs to close the distance between them, his heart pounding as he kisses Carlos for what feels like the first time.

Hopefully, it’s the first of many, and the first of the rest of their lives.

43 notes · View notes

tsumuniri · 3 years

Text

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ prev┃next

ONE ━━ THE TWIN BROTHER’S DECISION

"SO THAT'S THE TEA?"

You nodded dejectedly and raised the Tuna Mayo Onigiri in the direction of your mouth. You bit into the delicious rice snack, humming in delight as the saucy and sweet flavors of tuna cheered you up just for a slight bit. "They said that a girl my age shouldn't be living with her parents and should finally get a guy instead of drawing an imaginary one. You know that they're old school, Mai." You said, mouth full of rice bits and tuna.

The female ran her fingers through her short bright red hair. "Well, you are 25 now, and you haven't got a boyfriend since middle school," She propped her elbow on top of the round wooden table, resting her chin on her palm. "But they should've told you beforehand, right? How are you supposed to look for a residence in a short span of time?" She asked and watched you devour the onigiri meal with such ease. Her black-colored eyes held an uncertain expression as Mai was concerned for her colleague and friend.

After hearing the unfortunate news directly from your loving parents, your mind had to process the sudden information for two solid minutes. The first person you thought of to call is your closest friend, Mai, your roommate back at art school and a mangaka in the shounen industry. Although the two genres have completely different backgrounds, you two are stuck together like peas in a pod through the grace and glory of fawning over 2d men.

Ain't that great?

"They said I could stay back for two weeks until I could find a place to move in. I still have nine days to move out. And as for the residence part..."

You rummaged through the leather bag slung over your shoulder and took out a creased brochure of a newly built apartment based in the heart of east Osaka with its breathtaking cherry blossom conifers and pious shrines. The leaflet's minimalistic design delineated the idiosyncratic architectural structure of the tall building on the front page. Anybody could tell that this jointly owned establishment may settle for tenants with stable incomes.

For someone who changed the BL archives with her plot-driven works, Y/N could provide the fees to rent a homey room on the clabber-plastered apartment complex.

Mai shifted on her seat and studied the brochure on the table with interest— crossing her legs and leaning her torso forward to get a full view of the given pamphlet. "The building does seem promising. You could even check out your works in the Manga Shops at the city." She remarked as her eyes skimmed through the brochure, taking note of the facilities and rooms for the future tenants.

"Right? I already checked the place out yesterday, and coincidentally, the studio office is close by," The H/C-haired female pushed back the tiny strands of baby hair tickling her forehead as it was annoying her smooth skin. "They even allow pets. The apartment buildings I visited mostly don't allow pets, and the others who do, they have weird-ass tenants whom I don't really wanna be neighbors with." She ended, scratching the back of her neck.

"Soooooo, that's the apartment you're planning to move in."

You nodded your head, "I prepared the papers and told my parents about it. Maybe you can help me move my things out?" You suggested to your friend as your leg overlapped with the other, biting into another piece of onigiri from the porcelain plate.

Tilting her head to the side, Mai let out a light scoff from the BL mangaka's proposition as she gestured her hand downwards. "I'm offended, Y/N! Of course, I'll help you." She expressed her whimsical disbelief through her words. "I thought we were best of friends." The young lady teased.

"After all those collab fan arts of the Akatsuki, why wouldn't we be at this point?" You joked; however, the shinobi anime reference wasn't technically a gag as you both had a history of fangirling over the smexy criminal organization— even if you both had a peculiar taste in men. "By the way, why did you choose this place? Isn't this sort of far away from your workplace?" You questioned the red-haired female, a bit curious on why she decided to meet up with you in this Onigiri Restaurant.

Mai's lips turned up into a smirk as she motioned her finger for you to move closer. "My assistants and I decided to eat here after a hard day's work. By the time we were all seated, our eyes got blessed when the restaurant's owner catered to our table!" She whispered with excitement dipped on her tongue.

"Oh boy, if you had seen him, you would've gotten the inspiration to make a character from his well-sculpted face."

You raised a brow and let out a snortle, "We went here because a hot owner caught your attention? I should've gone with you then." You played along and couldn't help but laugh at your friend's reason for dining out a distance away from her studio office.

Like middle schoolers, you both giggled as Mai continued her story of the dashing Onigiri restaurant owner with her witty play of words. You never had any interest in dating; however, you still bid no mind to your friend's fawning over pretty men who would unlikely pay attention to either of them.

"That owner you're talking about might not visit his restaurant, Mai."

"I know, silly! But I do wonder what that work of art does outside his work."

Osamu is a very patient man. May it be through his responsibility of running an Onigiri business, or may it be just a simple waiting in line at the subway station of Tokyo, the male wouldn't lose his temper nor be frustrated over such trivial things.

But when his exhausted figure slugged inside the comforts of his home and found the living room all trashed with empty bottles of energy drinks and bags of chips, Osamu was finally at his breaking point.

"Atsumu, you mother-fucker... COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!" He burst out, calling out his twin brother's name as he began picking up the trashes scattered throughout his coffee table and his lawson couch. His ears caught the sound of loud footsteps thumping on the wooden-tiled floor as he could immediately tell that it was a certain someone who came down the stairs.

A bed of ruffled blonde hair popped out of the stairway as a certain setter casually jumps into the scene of the untidy crime, walking towards the other twin with open arms.

"Welcome home, Samu! Did your staff make a mistake in the newly-opened shop back at Shinjuku? You look a bit frustrated right now-"

Atsumu stopped himself once he noticed his twin brother standing over the mess he forgot to clean up. His arms dropped to the side while his chocolate eyes shifted over to Osamu's annoyed expression, "Okay. This time, I absolutely forgot to clean up." The male tried to explain himself.

The quiet one of the two shook his head in disapproval, sighing out and pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his fiery nerves. "I found this apartment, Tsumu. I think it's best for the both of us if you could finally get your own place." He stated, hearing the slight choke coming from his brother's throat.

"WHAT?! What made you think that this would be the best for the both of us, Samu?" Atsumu protested, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as to why his brother would suggest that sort of idea.

Osamu raised his hand and lifted three of his fingers to his twin's eye level. "First, you sometimes disrupt my sleep whenever you'd bring your flings at home," He stated and didn't bother to let the other speak their mind about the issue at hand as he continued his statement of reasons. "Second, you'd sometimes forget to do your lists of chores and often lie that you didn't do them because you were tired from training." He paused for a moment, thinking of a third reason until it clicked in the back of his mind.

"Lastly, you're a 23 professional athlete, who makes a lot of money than what I usually make, and yet, you're living with your twin brother."

Atsumu stared at Osamu as he crossed his arms, "So? You'll kick me out if I don't move out of your place?" He derided, his voice mostly holding a hint of teasing as he knew his brother wouldn't act so rashly over those reasons.

Oh, was the male so wrong.

"Yes, Tsumu. I'm kicking you out."

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#atsumu is a cutie #atsumu fluff #atsumubrainrot #atsumu fic #atsumu x female reader #msby atsumu #atsumu miya #hq atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #msby #miya osamu #ishiwrites #haikyuu fic

32 notes · View notes

sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, smoking

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 1 Part 3

Part 2

I stopped breathing. My voice was strangled. "You're Will?"

Liam nodded. He had a massive smile on his face. "I hope you understand. I can hardly use my real name or photos on a dating app."

I made some sort of noise in agreement, but my thoughts were reeling. There's no Will. Will is Liam. Liam fucking Cross. Will lied to me. No, Liam lied to me. He told me he was a personal trainer. Whose photos were the ones he had online? Did he steal them? Who the fuck is this guy?

I was breathing again, but now my breath was ragged.

"Hey, it's ok, come and sit." Liam put his arm around my shoulders and guided me back to the table.

"Don't touch me." I spat out venomously.

He backed off immediately. Not looking at him, I walked the rest of the way myself. Sitting down, I crossed my arms and said, "why would you do that? Why would you lie like that?"

"Lie?" Liam sounded shocked. "I used a fake name and photo, and I apologise for that. I can't..." he paused for so long that I almost looked at him. "I can't exactly date in the usual way."

"How often do you do this?"

"I met another girl about a year ago in London. We went out a few times, but it didn't work out."

"Who were the photos of? Do they know you do this?"

"He is a friend from school. He knows."

I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my head in my hand. I needed a fucking cigarette. I reached into my bag and pulled out my emergency stash. I hadn't smoked in 3 weeks. Damn him.

I lit up and took a long drag. It didn't taste the best, but then the nicotine made it worthwhile. I finally looked at Liam.

"I thought you quit," he said.

"I have," I said tartly.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

I debated whether or not I should be as angry as I felt. On the one hand, the explanation made sense. I mean, if he had told me when we first started talking that he was really Liam Cross, I would have thought he had a few kangaroos lose in the top paddock. On the other hand, I felt like a fool. Is it that easy to fool me? I didn't even notice that he never sent me any pictures of himself. I didn't send him any either, but social media wasn't a big part of my life. I could easily go months without taking pictures of myself.

I went back and forth, arguing both sides until I stubbed my cigarette into the plastic ashtray and couldn't draw it out anymore.

"I get why you did what you did. But it's a bit of a shock."

Liam looked relieved. A curl had fallen onto his forehead, making him look like a lost puppy. Well, maybe a lost wolf cub. A wild and untamed wolf cub.

"I have some questions, though," I continued. Liam smiled and waved his hand in a go-ahead gesture. "So, other than your name and job, what else isn't true?"

"I was as honest as I could be. I am a guy who would rather stay home and read or watch movies or play video games than go out. I am looking for a serious relationship. I want a woman to come home to, but one who understands how busy my life is. I want a family, someone to take care of. All those things are true." He spoke with confidence like he had been thinking about what he wanted for a long time, but it sounded like a laundry list to me.

Liam moved his chair closer and went to take my hand. I pulled away.

"I'm sorry I upset you. It was not my intention to deceive you. I know what I want, and I know what kind of woman I want. In the circles I work in, there aren't many women like that. I wanted someone unconnected to the Hollywood world, someone who doesn't want to be famous. I didn't know how else to find someone like that."

I looked at Liam. I was held transfixed by his gaze. His blue eyes were so clear and sincere. I tore my eyes away.

When he spoke again, Liam's voice was small. "I am really sorry. I... Fuck." Running his fingers through his hair, he said, "I don't know what to say. Lana. I'm still the same person."

"But you're not." I shook my head. "It's not just that you lied online; I get that. But why did you lie here? You could have said, 'Hi, Lana. I know you thought you were meeting Will, but Will is actually me. I did that because I'm famous.' Instead, you played along with the charade and made me feel like a bloody dickhead."

Liam was quiet. He dropped his head. "Is that it then? Is this over before it has a chance to get started?"

I shrugged. My leg was bouncing. I tried to stop it, but it started again. I crossed my legs.

"Do you want me to go?" Liam asked.

"Do you want to go?"

"No." Liam leaned towards me, his hands close to my knee. "But I will if you want me to." He let the back of his index finger brush against my bare skin. It was the lightest of touches, but it thrilled me.

Feeling tongue-tied, I shook my head.

We sat like that for a while. Liam's finger continued to rub against my knee like he was trying to calm a skittish horse. The anger in me stilled under his touch. I didn't want it to. I wanted to stay angry. He was so gentle I couldn't help it.

Eventually, I gave a small smile. "Say something," I said, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Liam's face creased as a warm smile spread across his lips. "I'm happy you're here to meet you finally." He put his hand out, palm up on my knee. I put my hand in his, and it was immediately swallowed by his much larger hand. He sighed, seemingly relieved and said, "to touch you."

"Say something else." I implored. My fingers caressed his palm. I traced the lines I could feel and the rough callouses that formed below his fingers.

Liam became serious. No, not serious, something else. He looked at my hair and reached with his other hand to brush it behind my ear. "Your hair is redder than I thought it would be."

"Is that bad?" I asked unsurely. Being a redhead was hit and miss. Some guys seemed to love it, and others ran a million miles. We had a reputation, after all.

He shook his head, "it's beautiful." His eyes kept searching my face, and I turned my head to look away, feeling heat rise to my cheeks under his gaze. He put his hand under my chin and gently guided my face back.

"Don't look away. I want to look at you." My cheeks were on fire now, and I felt warmth spread all through my body.

Liam's hand moved down to my neck. His index finger caressed my ear lobe as he cupped my neck and all coherent thoughts fell away. Gently he put his thumb under my chin and lifted it stretching my neck. My whole body was aflame now. My lips parted as I gasped.

"I want to kiss you." Liam's voice was hoarse and wanton, yet firm. He wasn't asking to kiss me. He just told me what he wanted. I broke out in goose flesh and shivered. Yes, this is what I needed. I needed a man who knows what he wants. I didn't trust myself to speak clearly, so I licked my lips and closed my eyes.

Liam groaned. His hand left mine and held the back of my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. I felt his warm breath on my lips, smelling faintly of beer, earthy, almost like freshly cut grass. I could feel myself quivering in anticipation.

Then his lips met mine, so softly, I thought I had imagined it. Then he kissed me again, his lips firm but still so soft. He pulled me closer, and I reached out and grasped his shoulders.

His lips parted, opening mine as they did. Liam's tongue gently licked at my bottom lip. My tongue met his, and I moaned. I wanted more. I kissed him back with more ferocity than was probably necessary. I couldn't help it. Spurred on by my kiss, his hand turned into a fist in my hair. His lips moved against mine harder and faster.

My thoughts were gone. I could process nothing but the duel sensations of pleasure from his mouth and the ache from my stretched throat and pulled hair. It drove me wild, and instinct took over. I wrapped my arms around Liam, trying to get closer to him. My chest met his, and I felt his hard body against my soft breasts. I wanted to feel his whole body against mine, his hardness against my softness.

Then he slowed, his kisses become softer and longer, his tongue withdrew into his mouth, and I felt the loss if it. The loss of his heat against my body made me feel cold. Liam let my hair go and slowly sat back.

I opened my eyes, blinking several times as I adjusted to the light. I looked at Liam, his eyes were bright, and I watched as he suppressed a grin. Then I watched, fascinated as he moved in his chair and tried to hide the hand that moved between his legs as he adjusted himself. I had to look away. I laughed because otherwise, I think I would have died.

"What's so funny?" Liam asked though he sounded amused.

"Not funny, I just can't help it." His eyebrow popped up. "I just enjoyed that."

"Back to being direct, are you?"

I shrugged.

The twitchy lip was back. "Maybe not." I wanted to crawl under the table. "Do you still want to go to dinner?"

I nodded. "Where are we going?"

"Apparently, it's not far from here, on the harbour. It's a seafood place. I remember you telling me you like seafood."

I nodded vigorously. "That sounds perfect."

As we walked to the restaurant, Liam held my hand. We didn't say much, but it wasn't awkward. Sometimes I would look at him and catch him doing the same. I would look away first, giggling as I did. Liam would chuckle and squeeze my hand.

I was disgusted with myself for acting like a schoolgirl. I was a grown woman with a marriage under my belt. Yet, even as I wondered why I was acting like a 16-year-old, I knew the answer. Liam was gorgeous, successful and wanted me.

I looked at him, and again he caught me. This time I forced myself not to look away. I returned his gaze and studied his face.

Turning his body to face me, Liam's eyes drifted down my body, lingering on my breasts. He slowly smiled. I felt naked, like he knew what I looked like without clothes.

Liam took a step towards me, forcing me to take a step back. Again he came closer, and again I retreated until I felt my back against the wall behind me. Liam's arms came up, and he put his hands on the wall beside my head. As I searched his face, I saw a naked hunger. I swallowed hard.

I wanted to look away, to say we should keep walking, but I also wanted to stay there trapped by Liam's arms. Up close, his arms were so big, and they looked like they could break me without much effort. He pressed his whole body against me, and one of his legs slipped between mine. My bones became jelly, like I would slide down the wall if his firm body weren't holding me together.

I put my hands on his wrists and felt my way up to his shoulders. Every muscle in his arms was tight, and I could feel each in turn as I moved my hands. I shuddered as my hands reached his triceps, and he flexed for me. My hips buck against his leg in an involuntary move, and I felt the sweet friction between my own. Liam made a noise from deep in his throat and took a step back so quickly I almost fell.

"We should get going, or we will lose our reservation," Liam said coldly and started walking. I was confused and struck immobile for a moment, then had to take a few jogging steps to catch up to him. This time he didn't take my hand. I didn't look at him for the rest of the way.

"I believe this is the place," Liam announced. It was beautiful, right on the harbour with the Harbour Bridge's views to one side and the Opera House on the other. The water was dark and reflected the bridge's lights, twinkling like it was another sky.

I finally looked at Liam. He was smiling again. He put his arm out and made a slight bow, indicating I should go first. I was still confused about earlier. He was so hot and then so cold, I didn't know what to make of it. I didn't want to make a scene, so I went in, but I also didn't want him to think he could get away with it.

The maître de greeted Liam by name and ushered us both upstairs and to a private balcony overlooking the harbour. We sat and were given a quick rundown of the evening's menu. It was a degustation, so the menu was set, and there would be eight dishes. The sommelier followed quickly behind, giving drink recommendations. Liam asked for paired wines, and I agreed. Eventually, we were left alone.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Liam said. "You make me forget where I am." He smiled. His mischievous look made him seem almost boyish.

"Why does it matter where you are?" I asked harshly.

"I don't want photos out there of me kissing you in an alleyway."

"I see." I did see. My heart sank. I knew it was too good to be true.

"What's wrong?" Liam was frowning.

"Nothing. I mean, it would be terrible if anyone knew you were kissing me," I said. I was probably a little too sarcastic.

"You know what I mean, Lana."

"Yes, I do." I stood. "This was a mistake. I should have left after your first lie."

Liam grabbed my wrist and stood up. "I don't think you do understand. A photo of you showing up with me means they will start hunting you down, find out who you are, search your social media, look into everything. They will probably publish your name, age, occupation. Dig up every bit of dirt they can. Are you ready for that?" I had to admit I was not. "All of this happening while we are still getting to know each other. It's a nightmare you don't want."

"You're right," I said softly. "I don't think I'll ever want that."

He let go of me and sighed. We both stood there for a few moments. Eventually, he spoke, "I don't want to put you in a situation where you're uncomfortable. You were right, and I shouldn't have lied about who I was. I want to honest with you about what being in a relationship with me means. Part of that is being very private about the relationship until you're ready to go public. It also means not telling friends or family who you don't trust to keep quiet."

"You know that this isn't normal right?" Liam nodded. "Ok, just so we are clear, dating you would be like dating a married man? No one can know."

"A married man?" Liam looked startled. "No, not like that. This isn't about me or to protect myself but to protect yourself. I'm not ashamed to be seen with you. You need to decide when you want the public to know about us. I already have almost no privacy, but I won't make that decision for someone else."

"Lots of celebrities date someone not famous, and no one talks about them."

"Yes, they do. At first anyway, the longer they're together, the less they get talked about if they are smart with publicity. Don't you read magazines, follow Twitter gossip, Instagram or anything?"

"Not really. I mean, if there is a tv show or something I like, I'll follow updates on filming and interviews with the actors, but that's usually it."

"Things can get vicious online with gossip."

"Are you trying to scare me off?" I said, a bit pissed. "Because it's working."

"No. I want you to know what can happen."

I started to sit back down. Liam pushed my chair in as I sat.

"If we were to date, would I have to do anything? Like, can't I just be in the background?" I scrunched my nose up, "I don't have to be all on Instagram selling diets or anything, do I?"

Liam chortled. "No, nothing like that."

"Good." I think people would laugh at my big thighs if I tried to do that anyway.

"And that is why I like you." Liam took my hand and lifted it to his lips, his whiskers tickling as he pressed a kiss to my palm. I shivered.

Our first course arrived then with some wine. It was a beautifully sliced tuna sashimi with orange and ginger. It melted in my mouth and exploded with fantastic citrus flavour. I'm sure I moaned aloud. I just hoped it wasn't a When Harry Met Sally level of noise. The white wine with it was also delicious, slightly dry, but easy to drink.

"My god!"

"Good, huh?" Liam asked.

"Sho gud," I said after I had already put more in my mouth. Liam laughed, and I quickly finished chewing and took another drink. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. I'm enjoying watching you enjoy it."

"Buckle up then champion because if the next seven courses are anything like that, you're going have the time of your life." I don't think I could have said anything more cringe-inducing. Hiding my face with my hands, my cheeks felt hot. But Liam laughed and took my hands away. His face was warm, so I laughed as well.

The next seven courses were amazing, scampi tails, lobster and beef, beautiful salads with roe and sorbet for dessert. It was astonishing, something I had rarely experienced before. None of the ingredients were new to me, but I've never had food prepared with such exquisite care and attention to detail. Little edible flowers and streaks of sauces were laid out on the plates, making the food a feast for the eyes.

The wine was impressive. We had five glasses all up, each one a flavour to compliment the food. I know I was a little inebriated by the end.

Liam wasn't sober either. The wait staff seemed to take it in stride, carefully clearing away our plates while avoiding Liam's flailing arms as he told me stories. Liam liked to talk with his hands when he was drunk, evidently.

As the night went on and the alcohol flowed, we both became much more relaxed and open. Our conversations flowed as they had on the phone over the last couple of months. He told me stories about his family and growing up in London. He mainly talked about his two brothers. I told him more about my older brother, David and the horrible things he did to me as we grew up. We compared notes to see whose siblings were the worst.

When the bill arrived, Liam paid. He insisted, saying he asked me out so he should pay.

"Don't you mean begged me to out with you?" I asked, teasing.

Liam pretended to be offended but conceded immediately, "I suppose asking nearly every day for a month is begging. I'm glad I did." He put his arm on the back of my chair and leaned in close, our noses nearly touching. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

I felt heady being so close to him. Either it was him or the wine. I closed my eyes as his nose nudged mine. I heard someone coming up the stairs, and I pulled away.

The waiter returned Liam's card and offered to call us a taxi.

While we waited in the restaurant's foyer, I thanked Liam for a great night and kissed him on the cheek. His rough face pricked my lips, making them tingle.

I ran my finger along his jaw, feeling his short, sharp beard and his smooth skin on impulse. I smiled as I went.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked, his voice playful.

I shrugged, "I don't know. I've just had the urge to do that since I first saw you."

"Do you like it? The hair, I mean." I nodded. "Then I'll keep it as long as I can." Liam took me in his arms. "You feel nice," he said, voice a little slurred. I blushed. I felt like I had spent most of the night blushing. Liam kept picking strands of hair off my face and putting them behind my ear. I looked up into his eyes as he played with my hair.

"Come back to my place, Sweetheart?" Liam asked. I laughed and raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed with me. "I don't want tonight to end yet. I've waited so long to meet you."

Andy's face appeared like an apparition. For a moment, Liam was Andy, and I was standing in his arms again. He had been taller than Liam but not as muscular, hair not as dark, skin not as pale. But then Liam said my name, and Andy vanished. I had definitely had too much to drink, or was it the old guilt resurfacing?

I shook my head as if it would erase the thoughts. I put a smile on my face and pretended to think it over, "Mr Cross, you're very bold."

"Indeed, Miss Walker." Liam grinned, playing along. Mrs Walker, I thought but didn't say.

"Very well, Mr Cross, I shall accompany you back to your home."

"Very good, Miss Walker." Liam lifted my chin and placed a light kiss on my lips.

Part 3

#original character #original fiction #romantic story

18 notes · View notes

iamknicole · 4 years

Text

Just the Two of Us (20)

HAHN AU

Since Marcie was driving down on her own, Lainey decided to work the whole day at her salon. Marcie and Melissa had planned to hang out until she got off. Lainey was glad she didn't have to make up something to get out of the house alone to meet Mitch.

Once closing time rolled around, Lainey sat at the front desk of the salon waiting on Mitch. He texted her letting he know that he was five minutes out then her phone rung.

"Mr. Governor, I didn't expect your call."

"Element of surprise. How was your day?"

"It was good, went by fast. Finishing some paperwork before I get outta here. Yours?"

Charles yawned, "Long. Very long. And boring. I spent most of my meetings thinking about you."

"You're gonna get in trouble," she laughed.

"You're worth it. I need to get to my next meeting they're staring at me. I'll call when I get home unless I call asleep. Okay?"

"Alright, babe. Bye."

As soon as she hung up, Mitch pulled up in front of her salon. Lainey watched him get out and slowly walk to the door, she stared at him for a minute feeling uncomfortable and regretting the choice to do it alone. He stepped inside and started to look around the room. Lainey got up from behind the desk, going to stand in front of it.

"Looks good in here, girl. You deserve it."

"Thank you. What do you wanna talk about?"

Mitch smiled at her, "Where your brothers? They must not know if they ain't here."

"Yeah and if they were here, you'd be getting worse than what B did to you, so you're welcome." She responded folding her arms across her chest.

He laughed holding his hands up, "You got me there. You look beautiful."

"Mitch, stop it. Say what you need to say so I can go home. Please."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

"Look, I'm sorry about that night. I was drunk and my better judgement escaped me. I just want you to forgive me."

Lainey rolled her eyes, "You don't need my forgiveness, Mitch. Whatever you thought was gonna happen, isn't. Let's just not do this, you leave me be and I won't tell my brothers that you keep texting me."

Lainey went behind the desk to grab her phone, purse and the key to one of Caleb's cars he let her borrow. Mitch watched her thinking for a second, he was trying to be nice but she wasn't listening. Lainey set her alarm then walked out with him in front of her and locked the building up.

"At least lemme walk you to your car, Lainey."

Again, she rolled her eyes and started walking to the car with him beside her. He opened the driver side door for her watching while she put her purse inside. Mitch pulled her to him before she could get in.

"Mitch, let go of me," she said flatly.

"I just want a hug."

Lainey stood there for a second then tried to push away from him. "You got your hug. Let go."

He held her tight, his big hands cradling and groping her ignoring her protests. Ignoring her cursing, he kissed her lips then her neck moving to pin her between him and the car.

"Let her go. You don't wanna do that."

Sucking his teeth, Mitch pulled away slightly from her and looked over his shoulder. "Get outta here, dude. We're good."

Lainey couldn't see who it was that approached them but she was glad they did. "No we're not. Get off me, Mitch."

"I said let her go."

Mitch turned to look at the person and his breath caught in his throat.

"Leave."

Mitch's nostrils flared but he walked away fuming. Bishop stared at his sister, waiting until Mitch drove off to speak.

"You good?" He asked in almost a whisper.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you. What're you doing here?"

Bishop put his hands in his pockets shrugging. "I'm usually here to check on you in the morning before you open and at night when you close. Make sure nobody bothers you."

Lainey furrowed her brows, "No, you don't. I never see you. I only see you like once a month in the store."

"I'm always around. You see me in the store cause I want you to see me. I'm always around especially when you're alone."

"Why?" She asked.

Bishop smiled, "You're my baby sister, gotta make sure you're good. Gone and go home."

With that, he turned and walked away from her. She tried to see what car he was getting into but the light from her parking lot didn't reach that far. Shrugging, she got into the car and sped out of the parking lot.

When Lainey got in the house, she took her shoes off at the door and went to the living room. She hugged both of her friends then sat between Cam and Marcie.

Marcie laughed moving over, "You are such a baby."

"That's right and he sitting too close. You're my friend," she said with a smile. "Where's B and Zion?"

"B upstairs and Zion went with Pop and Lil Q to get Mama."

Lainey frowned looking at her two friends and her brother. "So yall been here alone? What yall been doin?"

Cam and Marcie laughed, Melissa just sat in the love seat spaces out.

"Nobody did anything. We were talking," Marcie told her laughing, "That's it. But you're late. Where have you been?"

At that question, Lainey got up from the sofa and pulled Marcie up then Melissa. "We're gonna go get dressed to go out. And no you can't go, Cam."

Rushing her friends upstairs to her room, she let them know that she'd be right back and went to speak to Benny. She knocked on his door then eased it open closing it behind her. Crossing his room, she went to his bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. He stood at the sink in his towel with his wave cap on brushing his teeth.

"You need to put that lil bird chest away, B," she joked.

Benny scoffed and turned to her, "Stop playin with me. You see these muscles, girl."

Lainey laughed going to hug him. "Yeah, yeah, I see em. Just came to speak, ain't heard from you all day."

Benny kissed her head lovingly. "Was working, lil baby. How was your day?"

Lainey started to think about Mitch and Bishop but decided to leave that part out.

"It was good. Was able to get paperwork done. How was your day?"

"Good. Ima be out tonight but call me if yall need me while yall out. Aight?"

Lainey frowned, "Out where? Where you going?"

"Got a date," he replied before turning back to the sink to brush his teeth.

"A date with who? It ain't Melissa so I don't know her. You ain't going with somebody I don't know and don't like."

Finishing brushing his teeth, Benny rinsed his mouth out then washed his face waiting for his sister to get done. He grabbed his clippers to line up his beard.

"Her name is Kaylee, met her the other night when me, Cam and Zi went out. Nothin serious, just a date."

Lainey hummed, "What about Mel?"

Stopping, Benny looked at his sister through his mirror. "What about her, Lainey?"

"As much as I don't like it," she said rolling her eyes, "You clearly like her and she clearly likes you. And yall look kinda cute together."

"That's all true but I'm not about to just take half of her either, Alaina. She got somebody, she don't get to have us both. She gotta choose."

"Lainey," she corrected, "I'm not in trouble."

He winked at her going back to lining up his beard. Standing there a little longer, Lainey left his room and went to hers. Marcie and Melissa were sitting on her bed talking. She kicked off her shoes and went to sit at the foot.

"Did you bring them, Marce?" Melissa asked softly.

Marcie nodded going in her purse pulling out the three boxes. "I got them but why did I need to get 3?"

"Cause yall are gonna take one with me. I'm not doing it alone."

"Buuut I already know I'm not pregnant," Lainey protested.

Marcie laughed, "Girl, please. After what you told us that you and Charles did, your ass might be."

Lainey opened and closed her mouth a few times making her friends laugh. She playfully snatched one of the boxes from Marcie and got off the bed.

"I hope it's funny too that yall gotta go use the other bathrooms. Hope yall get caught. Get on my nerves," she fussed getting off the bed going into her bathroom.

While the girls took their tests, Bishop was walking into his parents' house. There was a lot that he didn't do for them anymore and they never complained about it. They asked him to come to their house and sit in on a meeting with them. He walked through the house, then down the stairs to the basement where the offices were. Upon entering his father's office, he noticed his two brothers, his father, Kaine, Vinny Malone, and a few other Malones. Quietly, he took a seat.

"Cryer wants us to take out the governor, other casualties are just a bonus." Kaine explained.

Vinny nodded, "And you want our help?"

"We don't need help, my friend. We just wanted to extend an invitation."

Vinny sat quietly for a moment. "What're the numbers?"

"He's offering 4 million. 2 for you, 2 for me. 200k for each additional person."

"Your daughter ... she worth 200k then?"

Kaine smiled evilly. "You need not worry about her. I'd do that for free. So do we have a deal?"

Coming to an agreement the meeting ended and the Malones left. Kaine kept his sons for an hour longer to discuss meeting back up to plan and surveillance. Bishop rushed out of there and sped away from the house, thinking about his next option. He knew he was going to protect his sister but he needed to figure out who he was going to go to first. Caleb and her other brothers or Charles.

"Shit, lemme go get Lainey trash. She always forgets." Cam groaned.

Getting up to his sister's room, he pulled the bag from the small trashcan. He started to leave but he heard something but the floor. Groaning to himself, he turned around to see what it was and frowned.

"What the fuck? Zion! Come here!" He yelled staring at the three tests on the floor.

#hahn au #have and have nots au #just the two of us

4 notes · View notes

yanderebtsstorytime · 5 years

Text

Yandere Yoongi

•Serial killer (Y/n)•

Blood dripped from my finger tips as I take a step back to look at my work. I had just completely torn my newest victim to pieces and had taken a seat to look at my work.

A small sigh of content falls from my lips as I look at the dead body before and laugh. It's been almost a month since my last kill, I had to lay low in order to get the cops off my back. I almost forgot how nice it was to hear someone scream while cutting them open.

I strip the gloves from my hands and then throw them on the body. I walk over to the gasoline container and drown the body in gas. Taking the matches from my back pocket I light one and throw it on the body watching as it erupts in flames causing me to smile as I step back and grab my bag where I kept all of my tools.

Turning around I leave the old building knowing that the body wasn't going to be found for a good four months because of the location it was in.

I get in my car and make my way back to my home where I clean up making sure to soak my clothes in hydrogen peroxide to get the blood out while I take a steaming hot shower to relax my muscles. I had a few bruises on my arms and chest from the guy hitting me while I tried to get him on the ground so I could smother him till he passed out.

He was my first pick because he was a local drug dealer that no one would really notice was gone. Plus he was selling bad meth to a young girl in my apartment building that I actually really liked and didn't want to see die. So it was a win win in my case.

"Good evening (Y/n)," Mrs. Bell the old lady that lived across from me says as she steps out of her home.

"Hello Mrs. Bell, how is you're day going?," I ask as I lock my door. She smiles brightly, "Wonderful dear, I've got a date with the hot young stud on the second floor," She says and I know she's referring to Mr.Micheals a gentleman in his late 70's. I nod and give her a wink.

"I see well don't get to frisky," I say causing her to laugh and playfully hit my shoulder, "Oh dear, your so kind for humouring an old woman. How was your day dear, you were out quiet late today, any particularly reason why?," She ask and I shake my head.

"My day was amazing, I was just so caught up in work that I lost tract of time," I say and she nods, "Well make sure you're taking care of yourself, I would hate to see my favorite neighbor drop from exhaustion," She says and I nod, "I won't Mrs. Bell," I say, "Good, now help an old lady to the elevator would you?," She ask and I nod offering her my arm as we walk towards the elevator and she talks about what she and Mr.Micheals are going to do on their date.

Once I drop her off I make my way out of the building and towards the small corner store to grab somethings for me to make dinner.

"Sh sh, stop struggling or this is just gonna be worse for you," I says as I squeeze my hands tighter around my newest victims neck. She was like the last one, a drug dealer that just needed to be taken care of. She wasn't as much of a fighter as the last one, but had some really long fingernails that she dug into my skin.

After a while she stops struggling and passes out. I sigh and stand grabbing her and dragging her towards my car where I throw her in the trunk and then close it.

"You doing okay there ma'am/sir," A voice says and I turn around to see a man walking towards me with a small poodle following close behind him.

"Hmm of yeah I'm good just had some trouble with my trunk. Old car and all," I say offering a small smile as he stops in front of me, "I see. You wouldn't have happened to of seen a lady near here by any chance. She has long black hair and greenish blue eyes, she's a friend of mine," He says and I smile larger knowing that I had just thrown this guy's friend in my trunk.

"No I'm not really sure, I think I saw a girl walk that way but I didn't catch a good enough glimpse," I say pointing towards the corner store. He nods and offers me his hand, "Thanks, I'm Min Yoongi," He says and I take his hand shaking it, "It's nice to meet you I'm (Y/n), and I don't think I've seen you around this part of town before. Are you new here?," I ask him and he shrugs.

"You could say that, I just have some business that happens over here that I have to check up on every once in awhile," He says and I nod. 'So he either bought drugs from this girl or gave them to her' I think as I offer him a smile. "I see so I guess you don't need a tour guide?," I ask crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against my trunk.

He looks me up and down, "Why, are you offering?," He ask and I nod, "I am indeed, I know these streets like the back of my hand," I say raising my hand. He smirks and step forward pulling a card from his pocket, "If that's the case how about a job. It'll pay more then the one you have now," He says handing me the card. I look over it to find his name and I'm guessing his number on it.

"What'd you have in mind?," I ask him, "Simple. As I told you my name is Min Yoongi, I have a special line of work that goes on in this part of town, and I need someone who is smart enough to sell my produce and not get caught while doing it," He says causing me to chuckle, "You want me to sell drugs," I say laughing and he nods, "Yes, why is that so amusing?," He ask, "No offence Yoongi, but if you haven't noticed the drug dealers of this area have all gone missing," I say and he sighs nodding, "Yes I know, that's why I'm offering you this job," He says and I hand him his card back, "Thanks but no thanks. It was nice meeting you Min Yoongi but I have some work to do," I say and he shakes his head, "Keep it in case you change your mind," He says as he turns and starts to walk away.

I get in my car and start to make my way towards my area where I was gonna kill the girl. I get there after about 45 minutes of driving and pop the trunk to find she's awake and crying as she tries to get loose from her restraints.

"Oh you're awake! Good, good I have some questions for you," I say as I grab her and pull her from the trunk and drag her over to a nice open spot. I throw her to the ground and kick her a few times to make sure she wouldn't move and then pull the gage from her mouth.

"Please, please I'll give you anything. I have over 100,000$ hidden in my apartment you can have all of it please just let me go," She cries and I shake my head, "I don't want money silly, I want information on your boss, Min Yoongi right?," I ask and she nods quickly, "Yes, I'll tell you anything. I used to be one of his girls," She says and I nod patting her head.

"Good, now tell me everything you can and I'll think about letting you go depending on the amount you give me," I say and she nods and starts to talk. She talks for a good 30 minutes before she smiles up at me and stops.

I pet her head one more time, "Thank you, that was very useful," I say and she smiles bigger, until she watches me pull out one of my knifes, "Wait! Wait I thought you said you'd let me go if I gave you information," She screams and I smile shaking my head, "No I said I'd think about letting you go," I say as I kick her in the stomach, "I've thought it over and you don't get to live," I say as I smile and bring the knife down in the center of her chest. She coughs up some blood as she stares up at me with wide eyes, blood pooling in her mouth as it runs from her lips down the side of her face.

"Oh my goodness, you know deep red lipstick would have been the perfect color on you," I say as I pull the knife from her chest only to stab her again. Reaching up I smear her blood across her lips and smile, "Yep red is your color," I say with a small giggle as her eyes start to get that glassed over look to them.

"You know I don't think I'll kill Yoongi just yet. He's at the top of this whole thing so it'll be pretty hard, but it'll be fun once I get to him," I say with a chuckle as I pull my phone out as well as the card and dial his number.

"Hello," The deep voice says, "Hi this is Yoongi right? I'm that girl/guy that you offered the job to earlier," I say as I kick the girl across the face smiling as she spits up blood, "Oh yes, (Y/n) right?," He ask and I nod, "Yep that's me," I say, "How can I help you?," He ask, "Well... it seems as though my current job just isn't cutting it," I say causing myself to giggle as I step on the knife rolling my eyes at the fact that she hadn't died yet.

"Is that so, well my offer is still open," He says and I smile, "That's good to hear, when can I start?," I ask, "Tomorrow if you can,", "Tomorrows great, where do I start?," I ask, "I'll have a car come pick you up, send me your address and once you get here we'll go over everything you'll need to know," He says as I kneel down and pull the knife from her chest and plunge it into her throat, "That sounds great, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," I say, "Yes, goodnight (Y/n),", "Goodnight Yoongi," I say as I pull the phone away and hang up.

"Thanks for the help, tell you what. Since you've hung on this long I'll let you stay awake for the ending," I say as I grab the gasoline container and drowned her in gas before I light a match and throw it on her. She tries to scream but doesn't get far since I had put a gaping hole in her throat. While she burns I strip the sweater I had on off of me and throw it on her to be burned as well, I didn't want to have to deal with cleaning it.

I poor some more gas on her and make sure to stay until it goes out just so I know she doesn't some how get up and wonder out into the world asking for help. After I'm sure she's dead I get in my car and drive home.

"I'm so happy you chose to call, I have a good feeling about you," Yoongi says as he leans forward crossing his arms over his desk, "I'm happy to know the job is still open. And even more happy about the amount you're paying. This is twice the amount my last job was giving me," I say with a bright smile and he nods.

"And if you do your job well you'll get monthly raises," He says, "Well let's get started then," I say and he chuckles nodding as he starts to explain everything.

Life as been amazing, I've killed so many people and I don't have to look far for victims because they come crawling to me, no ones gonna care about some druggie that goes missing.

Plus I've gone from making 1,000 a night to 6,000 a night, and Mr. Min Yoongi seems to have taken a liking to me making us much closer then I thought we could be.

"(Y/n) open up I brought take out," Yoongi yells as he bangs on my door. I quickly stand and walk over to it opening it up, "Nice to see you too Yoongi," I say with a giggle as I let him into my apartment. He smiles as he sets the bag of food down on my counter and pulls me in for a hug. I hug him back and then we both sit down and start to eat.

"How's everything going to far?," He ask as he dips his fork into the food, "Wonderful," I say with a content smile, "Good, I was thinking on it and I'd like to give you an even higher paying job," He says and I raise an eyebrow, "I'm listening," I say with a smile.

"Become my personal assistant,"He says and My smile grows larger, "When do you want me to start?," I ask causing him to smile as well.

There he laid fast asleep at his desk, so venerable, so weak, so easy to kill. I smile as I grab the butter knife placed on the tray I set on the desk softly and walk towards Yoongi.

I giggle a little as I get closer and raise the knife ready to plunge it into his head. The knife had almost reached his skull when his hand shoots up and he grabs my wrist stopping me.

My mouth falls open in shock as he looks up at me with a smile, "(Y/n)," He says with a content chuckle, "Yoongi," I say giving a bright smile as I grab the fork from the tray and go to stab him with that but he stops me before I can and throws me onto the desk while holding my wrist. He presses my face into the cold wood of the desk as he leans over me pressing his chest into my back.

"I knew something was off about you," He says with a chuckle, "I just didn't think it was this," He says and I smile turning my head to look at him, "What can I say, I have a hobby most don't," I say with a bright smile on my face.

He leans down inches from my face, "I can see that, but why me?," He ask, "Why not? I've killed all of your drug dealers, why not kill the man at the top while I'm at it," I say causing him to laugh, "This is why I love you so much, you're so honest," He says as he pulls me from the desk, "I won't let you kill me, but how's this, how about you kill for me. I think I'd enjoy watching you stab someone," He says and I raise an eyebrow.

"Really? Why?," I ask, "The thought of such a beautiful creature like you covered in red sets me on fire, I'd give anything to see it," He says with a twisted smile. I smile back and nod, "I suppose I wouldn't mind killing a few people while you watch, it's always fun to have an audience," I say causing him smile larger.

#bts fanfic #bts army #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #btsyandere #bts #bts imagines #bts one shot #yandere #yandere yoongi #bts yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi imagines #yoongi x you #yandere x you #yandere x reader

175 notes · View notes

grapehyunshair · 5 years

Text

Infidelity pt.3 // JJH

It has been 6 months since you walked out of the house and to say those months have been hard would be an understatement. Trying to forget Jaehyun was harder than you thought it would be, seeing as his face was literally everywhere around you. At first you couldn't bear hanging out with the other boys as well and you had stopped picking up their calls or answering their messages. That was until Mark and Hyuck almost broke down your door one day and demanded to "get your ass up and hang out with them". Ever since that day you have become much closer with those two than you ever were, both of them making sure that they never mentioned Jaehyun's name around you. The older members made sure to check up on you as well. Taeyong and Doyoung regularly swung by and made food for you, Johnny and Taeil took you out on walks, Ten had dance parties with you, while Jungwoo, Sicheng and Yuta took you shopping at least once a week because according to them you needed to up your dating game. That's how you found yourself getting ready for a date one Saturday night with one of Johnny's friends who was visiting from Chicago for a week. You really didn't want to go, claiming that it was pointless since he would be leaving either way, yet Johnny insisted that you at least try seeing what going on a date would be like considering that you hadn't really gone on many dates before dating Jaehyun. So with that thought in mind you hesitantly agreed and now you were regretting everything because you were really, really nervous. You walked to the restaurant you would be meeting Minhyuk (YES IM IMAGINING MINHYUK FROM MONSTA X FITE ME) -Johnny's friend- thinking that some fresh air would make you losen up a little bit and it did; it really did until you reached your destination and saw him waiting for you. You had to admit he was very handsome and you wished in this moment you could get Jaehyun out of your brain and give this guy a proper chance so that's what you tried to do. You approached him with a smile and said a small hi.

This is a happy ending version bc many of u guys asked for it uwuwu I'll write an alternative angsty ending in a while ily guys

"Oh, you must be Y/N. You're even more beautiful than Johnny described." He grinned and gave you a hug, making you blush in return and hug him back. He had a beautiful smile, with one small dimple popping up making him look adorable. "Shall we go in? I hope you're hungry." He said gesturing the door.

"Yeah, I'm actually starving." You laughed. He chuckled and held the door for you, so you could get in. You walked in and both of your jaws dropped in shock. The restaurant, Johnny's pick, was fancier than you had ever been, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, gourmet plates on each table, while the floor was made from marble, gold details decorating every corner. And that would be fine you see, if Johnny had actually told you where you guys would be going but no, he kept it to himself and let you both be completely underdressed for the situation.

"Um, Minhyuk, I don't think we're very fitting for this place." You said, nervously, while glancing at him.

He turned to look at you and said a small, "Hey, wanna get out of here?" to which you smiled and said, "I though you'd never ask."

So this is how you ended up at McDonald's, sitting in a corner booth, eating chicken nuggets and fries, laughing your hearts out at little stories you both shared with each other.

"I can't believe they actually did that." Minhyuk said, choking up from laughter.

"Honestly, it's Johnny and Taeil, what would you expect?" you replied, raising your eyebrow at that, while popping a fry in your mouth.

"You're right, I should know better." He agreed, "Hey I'll go get myself another milkshake so I can dip my fries, want one?"

"Nah, I think I'm full, I should probably stop eating." you said and he laughed getting up and going towards the cashier. Your eyes followed his back and you couldn't help but the small sad smile that creeped up your lips. You were having so much fun, but you know that you couldn't offer him anything other than friendship at this point and you knew he knew as well. You could tell by the way he didn't try anything with you, something you appreciated a lot. You sighed and your mind drifted back to Jaehyun as you wondered what he was doing. You suddenly heard familiar voices making your eyes go wide and your heartbeat increase. One was Johnny's and the other one was no other than Jaehyun's. At first they didn't notice you sitting a few feet away from them, until they reached the cashier and saw Minhyuk waiting on the line. Johnny's eyes went as wide as yours and he quickly scanned the place to see if you were there as well, freezing when he saw you looking at them. Jaehyun alarmed at his friend's reaction, looked at the direction of what made Johnny white as a ghost and mirrored his expression when he saw you sitting there. He looked bad. Really bad. His face looked like he had aged at least five years, black circles decorating his beautiful eyes. His appearance was dissevered, almost as if he hadn't left the house in days. He reminded you of yourself, when you were alone in your house, dealing with your thoughts. Could it be..?

Minhyuk seeing the whole situation, quickly greeted the boys and skipped towards you in attempt to get you out of the place as fast as he could. To be honest, he really liked you and had fun with you, besides knowing that your heart belonged to Jaehyun still. And he was okay with that, he would cherish your friendship a lot if you were willing to give this to him. Johnny had filled him in with the information earlier, so he knew that you being in this situation right now would not be good for you, that's why when he reached you he took your hand, pulled you on your feet, asking you if you were okay softly.

"Can we get out of here please?" You croaked out, voice too weak to be heard.

"Yes, yes of course." He said and took your bag, guiding you out. You hadn't even walked two steps out of the door when you heard your name being called out. You froze and pretended that you hadn't heard anything, while you kept walking.

"He's calling for you." Minhyuk said, trying to keep up with you, a task that was kinda difficult considering it had started snowing while you were inside. That wouldn't stop you though, because your desire to be away from Jaehyun right now was bigger than any difficulty you were facing.

"I know. I just can't face him right now. I'm so sorry for ruining this night." You said apologetically, looking at the ground.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching for your elbow with his hand and stopping you from walking away, "you didn't ruin anything. I think it would be good for you to talk to him though, see what he wants. I know you still love him Y/N, you will always love him." He said, kissing your head and ruffling your hair. This action, gave Jaehyun the time to reach you guys, panting, nose and ears red as a tomato.

"You should talk to her, however if I hear you are causing trouble I won't hesitate to step in." Minhyuk said sternly, giving Jaehyun a threatening pat on the back, while he went to sit on a bench nearby were Johnny was looking at the scene unfold.

"Hi." Jaehyun said, hesitantly, "How have you been?"

"Good. You?" You replied curtly.

"I'm okay, I guess. I don't even know." He said, fiddling with the ring on his fingers. The ring you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.

"Y-you're still wearing that?" You said, in disbelief. To anyone that passed the street, the scene probably looked romantic. A young couple, that tried to shrug off the nerves of the first date probably, but the truth was far worse than that. You could feel yourself breaking the walls that you build once again and you hated that. You hated how he could barge into your life at any point and take your heart by storm.

"Yeah. I am." He said, scratching the back of his neck. "I see you're dating again. I hope he makes you happy." He said, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice.

"Me? Oh no. Minhyuk and I are just friends. He's leaving in a few days either way." You said, shrugging. Jaehyun looked almost relieved at that, leaving you very confused.

"Hey, can we go sit down for a while?" He said pointing at a bench under some cherry blossoms a few feet away. "I need to say something."

"I don't know Jaehyun. There isn't really anything to say." You said, not being completely sure of your feelings at the exact moment.

"Please. 5 minutes. That's all I ask." He said, desperately, his eyes looking for your eyes, in attempt to convince you. And he did, so you sighed and said a soft okay.

You walked to the bench in silence and you took a seat as far away from him as you could. Ah, stupid Y/N that was a bad idea. You could smell his perfume, a smell you missed incredibly much, giving you a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You both stayed silent for a while, unable to find words to say to each other until Jaehyun broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing Y/N. Everything was so much at the time. The practices, the hectic schedule, the fact that I almost never saw you. I thought I didn't love you anymore, when in face I never stopped. I just missed you and instead of thinking about it, I acted carelessly." He said and you turned around to face him, not believing what you were being told.

"You missed me? You still loved me? Then why Jaehyun? Why go and fuck around?" You said, the anger of the past coming back up. "I missed you too, yet I stayed faithful to you."

"I know. I know you did. I know I'm an asshole and that I don't deserve you. I'm not trying to take the blame off myself, I know I'm the only one to blame. I just was so lost. I felt that I wasn't good enough for anything. I wasn't good enough for you. I took my own insecurities on you and hurt you. But you were, and are, the only person who knows me better than I know myself. I was ashamed of my thoughts and I knew that you could see right through me. So I distanced myself from you, at first, to keep this image of myself hidden from you. At least until I could stop being like that. And then I missed your love and affection, and that was when I started looking for it elsewhere. And it was never the same, but I was so confused that I was okay with it. I didn't even notice when I became that person. I'm- I'm so sorry." He said, his voice breaking, tears rolling down his cheeks.

You were in no better condition. You didn't even notice when you had started crying, both from sadness and love for the boy in front of you. You instinctively reached out for Jaehyun's hand, the warmth feeling familiar, calming you down a bit.

"Jae.. I really don't know what to say. Nor what to do. I tried so hard to forget you Jaehyun. I really did. And I can't do that and it breaks my heart. But I don't know what I should do about that, I don't know what would be best." You said, your thumb caressing his palm.

Jaehyun looked at you and placed his palm on the side of your head, you leaning your head to rest on it.

"I love you. I never stopped. I understand if you don't want anything to do with me and I'll respect that, but if you could give me a second chance I promise you, you won't regret it." He pleaded, getting closer to you. You knew you should have gotten up and walked away. You knew those beautiful eyes had the power to hurt you again and leave you more broken than before, but for some reason you couldn't bring yourself to move from your spot. Truth was, you missed Jaehyun so much. There hasn't been a day those past 6 months, when you didn't think of him. Your love for him was so big that you were willing to risk your sanity just so you could wake up next to him one more day, as stupid as that made you look.

"I want to Jae. You have no idea how much I've missed you. But I don't know if I can trust you again. It's going to be very hard and I don't know if it will be worth it in the end." You said, letting go of his hand and placing it on your lap.

"We'll take it slow. We'll take it as slow as you want to take it. I'll do anything to make you trust me again. Just, please. Please be mine again. I miss the way you look every morning with your hair tangled up and your cheeks muffled in the pillow. I miss the way you scrunch your little nose when you are confused. I miss the way you make fun of me when I have my "practice" face on. I miss your smell. I miss the way taste of strawberries from your chapstick when I kiss you. I miss you. Please." He said and you started crying all over again. God, you needed to get a grip of your emotions smh.

"Are you willing to wait for me? Wait till I can trust you again?" You said, with a small sigh.

"I'm willing to wait fifty years if that means you'll be mine again." He said caressing your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"Okay then. I hope you don't make me regret it." You said, trying to smile through the tears.

"You won't. In fact, let's start all over again." He said and got up. "Hi, I'm Jaehyun, is this seat taken?" He said and gestured next to you.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. No, it's not you can seat here." You said laughing. Jaehyun grinned, his dimples full on display, while he took your hand, pulling you up towards him, while he hugged you, spinning you in circles, the snow falling all around you.

In the distance, Johnny smiled at the sight, hoping that none of you would break each other's hearts again.

118 notes · View notes

katsukisbeatingheart · 5 years

Text

if you want

· - - - -

he has a bit of a difficult time being patient.

word count: 2143

a03

pt. 2

It was a little untoward but did as good a job as any.

A blush burst like confetti in a rage rash across his cheeks; and if you didn't know any better, you'd think the mighty Katsuki was actually maybe a little embarrassed.

"Well?"

He shifted in his place, trying—and failing—to maintain a façade of a complacent blasé boy just casually asking out a close friend.

"Close" was a bit of a stretch for you. Yes, you found him quite brash and obnoxious and a little insensitive; but you couldn't deny what he meant to you. At least, you thought highly of him, and you were sure you could tell him anything—but you weren't positive that was reciprocated.

Was he one of your best friends? Yes.

Would you even dare to ask him how he felt about you? No.

You! Didn't! Want! To! Ruin! What! You! Had! It had taken what seemed like ages for him to finally warm up to you, without, like, actually exploding—and if you think you'd run the risk of watching that go down in flames? You considered yourself an idiot.

However, unbeknownst to you—Katsuki thought you were the world. If he could put it to words and send them out through that angry trap cursing everything to hell—he'd say you were a force of nature. A worthy rival, a trusted partner, and a kind and wonderful friend.

Except all he's got are angry bees and a tornado in his brain, at all times. As such, anyone he admired, he felt the need to challenge. On all levels physical, he planned to annihilate them. Which wasn't necessarily the case, well, in your case.

Although, there were—a few physical levels— He shook that thought away. That's an idea for a later date. The blush flared. 'Much later.'

But really, he loved provoking you. Only because you're so cute and intelligent and warm and messy—so, so messy—and he got a serious kick out of that. You're complex and human and alive. Despite your faults, you refused to let anything stop you in the end game—you refused to let that keep you from what you wanted. He watched you grow, and evolve and adapt to those weaknesses, and suddenly the line between strengths and not began to blur. He even dared to call you one of his personal heroes.

Thankfully for him, no one in the class noticed for the longest time.

Unsurprisingly, Kirishima was the first.

Bakugo would casually watch you walk into the room, head in his hand, eyes trailing each step you took. A silent Ejirou, sitting beside his best friend minding his own business, would look up startled—at the now fuming boy with a hand to his temple, or rubbing the back of his neck.

"You alright there, man?"

"Stomachache."

The dear boy would stare on in confusion, but keep to himself—a man's business was his business. Puzzled, he witnessed Katsuki all but sprint out the door, noticeably more red than his usual complexion. Then, minutes later, Katsuki would return, smelling notably more of burning sugar, and looking like he'd run maybe half a mile. Kiri wouldn't question it. Until, after that, across the room you'd laugh at something Denki or Ochacko had said, and Bakugo would stand right back up again.

"What's wrong?"

"It's back again." And that'd be the end of that.

It became a reoccurring thing throughout the weeks, when finally—bewilderdly—Kirishima would come to the conclusion Katsuki had been stubbornly avoiding. He popped the question a few weeks later.

"You like someone, don't you."

Class had taken a recess, and his best friend took the liberty to gravitate toward him with a pencil and notebook in hand to work on an upcoming assignment—hopefully without being disturbed, which already wasn't happening.

Bakugo's whole body twitched. "I– you– what– you weirdo what is that supposed to mean?"

Kirishima blinked owlishly at his friend. He wasn't sure what to say next, as he honestly didn't think he'd get this far.

"Well... you've been acting kinda strange lately... around someone in particular..."

Bakugo raised his eyebrows defensively. He hoped that did a good job of masking his expression, because he suddenly had a pretty good idea as to where this was going.

"Well, I mean..." Kirishima dragged a path along with his eyes, coming to a stop at an angle, gazing at you covertly through his lashes. Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying really hard to keep his heart from racing anymore than it already was. He pointedly looked back down at his paper, a tighter grip on his pencil.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Eijiro couldn't keep a grin from crawling across his smug face.

"Oh, but I think you do."

After that, the secret couldn't keep to itself and the rest of the class began to trickle into the loop. Much to the surprise of everyone, they weren't all that surprised because they thought you're quite wonderful. But Katsuki? And a crush?

He couldn't help it; the guy seriously respected you.

With all of the determination rivalling theirs to become professional heroes, the class set to work on making this happen. They split up and rearranged classroom chores, made up excuses as to why they couldn't make it to study sessions where you and Bakugo attended, and shut out any outside obstacles—curfews, misplaced lunch seatings, Mineta.

"Oh, no, it's okay! You go ahead, I've got this," you chirped, in a positively upbeat mood. It was so absurdly warm, Kaminari felt guilty about moping the entire day to get out of his after school tasks. He'd managed to convince you he had a sick baby bird at home to tend to, before having to return to the dorms later tonight. Of course, that was a lie.

'It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause.' Denki knew he was a simpleton; but he'd be damned if he didn't have his moments.

"Are you sure? I'd really hate to trouble you, ya know," he offered, conjuring his best solicitous veneer, silently hoping he wasn't overdoing it now.

"No, yeah! Go on ahead; I heard you mention you had some personal things to take care of—you sounded really stressed about it." Denki had to will himself from openly clutching his chest and bursting into tears.

'Attentive and kind as always! I would expect nothing less of you.'

He opened his mouth to reply with something a little more heartfelt, but the burning gaze of Mina—probably stealthily situated peering through the windows facing the hall—stared holes into the back of his head. Kaminari's mouth snapped shut, and he took that as his cue to bounce. "Great! Awesome. Noice, thank you—" he rambled in an absolutely-not-guilty-at-all lilt. At the door though, he paused, throwing a suggestive smile over his shoulder, "—you kids have fun."

You wrinkled your eyebrows, not yet having received the eight new text messages from your other friends, conveniently busy with their own matters, as well.

After a while, Katsuki came to realize that this dancing around his feelings business was getting to be a little old. He felt pathetic, ordinarily used to tackling things head on. It took some serious convincing, on his part—but he knew what he wanted.

He tried small things, at first—microscopic, all considered, but this was Bakugo. Katsuki began propping doors open for you to pass by if you were walking together, like a real gentleman would.

He dropped snacks by your desk;"You forgot your money again, didn't you, dumbass?"

Always kept an extra water bottle on hand with your name on it; "Don't need you passing out during class, idiot."

He even gave you a little star sticker he had "found" on his way back from an orthodontist appointment; "It was stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I don't want it, you take it." It was in too perfect condition for that to be true.

By then he felt silly, recognizing that this probably wasn't going to be enough to get his point across; even if his friends, at least, noticed the small attempts (trying very hard to keep their mouths shut, all the while).

Katsuki didn't know where the fire was, but eventually he'd had enough of himself. This was going to happen, and it was going to happen today.

After an afternoon of mulling and seriously suppressed grins, Bakugo approached you with an imperceptibly wavering stride. He could launch himself into the heat of a fight no problem, but Katsuki Bakugo was not perfect—no matter how arrogant and prideful he was to admit that.

"Hey. Come practice with me."

You blinked in surprise, running your fingers along the hem of your uniform almost self consciously. It was nearing the evening, and you'd figured he would've joined everyone in studying back at the dorms.

'Although, I suppose sparring is a form of studying,' you reasoned with yourself.

'But... why me?'

He brought you to a secluded clearing, amongst the woodlands surrounding the campus. It wasn't so deep in as to hide evidence, but it was free enough from prying eyes and ears—he made sure of that, with a totally justified menacing promise on his classmates' lives. The overhang of leaves, swooping branches, and glistening waters—complete with lil frogs leaping amongst the moss—made this probably one of the best places he could think of for this exact situation. It was definitely the most fairy tale thing he had ever seen, which said a lot—his mother had dragged him and his father to TDL on many an occasion when he was a child.

Of course, he supposed it was just his stupid, newly developed romantic bastard brain romanticizing everything.

Setting the scene was the trick—because if that had gone wrong, then this would've been glossing near "patronizing", and would probably be much closer to a threat. In a way, you wryly wondered if it really was.

"Hey," he nearly barked. "Anyone home?"

You'd been standing in a silent stupor long enough for Katsuki to grow nervous-impatient. He'd put his hands in his pockets and kicked a little bit at the ground beneath him, trying to maintain some sense of calm. The glower in his eyes gave him away.

Your lips popped open in a fish face motion as you grappled for your words. "I–I– I'm really– I–" Your tongue stumbled over itself. Katsuki gave you an expectant look and you felt your cheeks turn a brand new shade of red.

"I just– I can't– I don't–"

You tried so hard, trying to find the right words. They stubbornly refused to appear, wrestling with each other in the deepest part of your gradually dizzying consciousness. Your hands trembled, waving around aimlessly, making a point you hadn't even begun to form yet.

Bakugo suddenly felt as though he had hit a wall. An invisible one, because this was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid. It grated at his ego and he was slowly getting more and more agitated, his deepest insecurities writhing under his skin. You stuttered and gestured, wringing your slicked palms on your clothes.

After a long, silent moment, his face fell into a stone cold stare you'd never seen directed at you before. It morphed from uncertainty, to a grimace you associated with catching a bad smell, and into an equable scowl. Your heart thumped to the pit of your stomach.

A forcibly steady breath through the nose. "Fine."

He straightened his posture.

"I get it."

The dark look stared down at you, something you were sure was one of his special moves. "It's whatever. It doesn't matter, anyway." Except it did.

Your eyebrows knitted, your pulse quickening. "Katsuki, I– that's not–"

Biting back a sneer, Bakugo seethed through his teeth. "Save it," he hissed. "I don't want to fucking do this if I'm the only one giving my all."

The shock that came to you is what you assumed being struck by lightning felt like. You wanted to laugh, and tell him that was such a Katsuki thing to say in a situation like this; but he was already stomping away, taking strides to double yours.

"Katsuki, wait!" You called out, feeling coming back to your legs, and made to move in after him. "Katsuki!"

His silhouette gradually disappeared into the leaves that had initially felt so welcoming, like they promised something.

You went as quick as you could, mindful of the roots and pockets of earth at your feet.

As Bakugo slid out of reach, his words were a deafening whisper in the hushed world around you.

"Just—leave me alone."

{a/n: hello!! i have this split up bc i wanted to write a few more scenes under the same premise... plus!! having something extra to do gives me a little more motivation & inspiration to make new things; thanks for reading<3}

175 notes · View notes

the-magnus-archives-archiver · 5 years

Text

Strange Music

Case: 0051701

Name: Leanne Denikin Subject: An antique calliope organ she possessed briefly in August 2004 Date: January 17th, 2005 Recorded by: Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

Let me be clear: I'm not scared of clowns. I don't find them funny, either. Just a bit baffling, really. I've never understood why people would find grown men in stupid make-up and wigs funny. Or scary. It's the same with the dolls. People talk about their cold dead eyes, but they don't seem to have any problem with statues. I suppose now I've got good reason to be scared of both. I just want you to understand, I wasn't seeing things out of fear. This happened.

It didn't come as a surprise when my grandfather died last August. I'd been living with him for almost two years at his home in Bootle, looking after him through his illness. My mother was having her own difficulties at the time and my good-for-nothing father wanted nothing to do with any of it, so looking after my grandpa came down to me. It wasn't so bad, really. My grandpa was a strange man at times. He'd been a carnie for most of his life, working with travelling circuses and freak shows all over Europe, and was something of a recluse in his later years. He could also swear a blue streak a mile wide. Get him behind the keys of a piano, though, and I don't know anyone who could play as beautifully as he could. Like I say, it wasn't a surprise when he finally died, but I still found it difficult. As you may have guessed, I don't have a great relationship with my parents and have always had some problems making friends, so... when he went it hit me hard.

I didn't go out that week. Or the next. I saw Joshua, my... partner, I suppose you'd have called him, but aside from that, I didn't see anybody between grandpa's death and the funeral. It was just me, Josh and my mother. Grandpa had never been a churchgoer, but my mother had a lot of faith, so paid for a Methodist funeral, such as it was. It was a hot, muggy day, and I remember wondering whether the stinging in my eyes was from the tears or the sweat. As it turned out, grandpa had left me his house. It didn't really sink in for a while – the house had been the most home I'd had for so long that I'd always felt it was mine in some ways.

Going through my grandpa's old papers and possessions was harder than I had expected. It was only reading some of his own letters that I discovered his birth name was Nikolai – he'd always just gone by Nick. Eventually I sorted through everything. I had a small box of memories I wanted to keep, but... I just wasn't up throwing the rest away yet. I decided to store them in the loft. I knew the house had one, although I had never been inside. It had always been locked. It wasn't a mystery or anything, just that my grandpa hadn't needed to get anything from up there while I was living with him. At least, I thought so.

It was only then I realised I had never been inside it. More annoyingly, I quickly discovered that none of the keys I'd been given for the place were for the padlock. No luck searching for it around the rest of the house, either. In the end I had to cut the lock off with a pair of bolt cutters I found in the garage.

There was also a ladder in the garage, so getting up through the small, square hole wasn't a problem. I realised then that I didn't have a torch, and it was very dark. Despite it being the middle of summer, the loft was cool, almost cold. I considered heading back down to get a torch and a jacket, but as I reached out my hand, it brushed against something which felt like a pull-cord. I gave it a tug, and a small, weak bulb came to life, and I saw what was inside.

When I had first remembered about the loft, I'd been annoyed. I thought there'd be so much more stuff up there, days more sorting to go through. But when I turned on the light, I saw that it was almost completely empty. The only things there were an old steamer trunk, a small stool and a bright red calliope organ. The ceiling was higher than I expected as well. I could stand at my full height without stooping. I walked slowly towards the old steam organ. It was bright red and in excellent condition except for a thick layer of dust. There was a small brass plaque simply reading “The Calliaphone”. The brass pipes that stuck out from the top still shone faintly under the dust, and I noticed that there was writing, carved onto the cover of the keyboard. It read: “Be still, for there is strange music”.

I went to the steamer trunk next, and was surprised to find it unlocked. Opening it released a cloud of dust and I coughed a few times before I got the heavy lid up. Inside were dolls. Lots of them. They looked old, with ragged, limp cloth bodies topped with oversized round heads and large, painted eyes that stared up from their shadowed trunk. The hair on each was intricate and woollen, and while they certainly weren't the sort of dolls a ventriloquist would use, the heads had similar mouths, wooden blocks that would have opened and closed to simulate speech. At least, they should have had. Almost all of them had had their jaw block roughly torn off, leaving nothing but jagged splinters between their cheeks.

There were 23 dolls I counted in total, and only one of them still had its jaw intact. It was the oldest looking by far, and was a small clown doll. Its threadbare body was white and purple polka-dot, with three pompoms down the front and a ruff just below the head. It had no woollen hair left, but instead had a tall, pointed white cap on top. Its face was painted a pure white, and its eyes were shut, with black lines drawn across them. The only colour was a splash of red across the hinged jaw. A smile.

Like I said, I'm not scared of clowns and I'm not scared of dolls. The thing was ugly though. I was kind of relieved, actually, to have found some of my grandpa's old things that I would have no problem throwing away. Or maybe selling. They were definitely antiques, so they might have been worth something. In any case, I put the nasty-looking clown doll back in the box and closed the lid. I definitely closed the lid.

I went back over to the calliope. There was—

[Sasha: I thought it was pronounced “Ka-lee-o-pee?”

John: Sasha? You're... back early – I thought you were trying to get hold of those police reports for the Harold Silvana case?

Sasha: Tried and succeeded. They were actually quite helpful.

John: Oh... well. Good work.

Sasha: So, do we know if it's pronounced “Ka-lee-o-pee” or “Kuh-ly-o-pee”?

John: I have also heard it said as “Ka-lee-ope”.

Sasha: Seriously? By who?

John: Americans.

Sasha: Ah.

John: As far as I can tell there isn't a “correct” pronunciation. But they were originally named after the Greek muse Calliope, so...

Sasha: Are people going to understand that it’s from Greek mythology?

John: If they're working for the Magnus Institute, then I would hope so.

Sasha: I’ve just heard it more often as “ka-lee-o-pee”.

...

John: Statement continues.]

I went back to the calliope. There was no lock on the lid, or any switch that I could see on the outside. I opened it, and the keys inside shone as though they had just been polished. Now, at the time I didn't know how a calliope worked. I just thought it was like a weird pipe piano. I didn't know that there needed to be a blower working for the thing to play, and even if I had I wouldn't have known where to find one or how to use it. By rights, when I sat in front of it and pressed the first key down, nothing should have happened. The four tall rows of brass whistles should have remained silent. Instead, there came a loud, howling tone from one of the pipes and I almost fell off my seat in surprise. I remember once, hearing the sound of a steam organ could be heard from over a mile away, and when that shrill whistle sounded I could believe it.

I started to play a tune. My grandpa had had a piano once. It had broken years before and he'd never had the money to replace it, but he had taught me the basics. There was one tune that, when I was a child, I always insisted he play to me. He never told me its name, if it even had one. I always used to just call “Faster Faster”, by way of a description. A cheery, upbeat circus melody that started out almost unbearably slow and gathered in tempo, getting faster and faster until my grandpa's fingers were a blur. He always indulged me when I asked him to play it, and now I played it for him. The wailing whistles were almost deafening in that cramped space. I knew I'd probably be hearing from the neighbours about it, but I didn't care. I just played.

The tune got faster, more frantic, and I felt something building inside me. It was like final closure for the loss of my grandpa was just out of reach, and if I got faster, if I played with enough speed I could catch it. But my finger slipped and the music abruptly became a discordant cacophony. I never was as good as Grandpa Nick. I sat there in silence for a minute. When I turned to leave, though, I saw that the old steamer trunk was open, and the clown doll lay on top of the pile. Even though its painted eyes were still shut, I felt like it was looking at me. Its smile seemed slightly wider than before. I shut the trunk and climbed down the ladder.

I didn't really think about the weird things in the loft over the next week or so. I had too much else to do. It was only when Josh was next round, and asked me why the small hole into the attic was open, that I remembered. I told him I had something cool to show him, and got the ladder out. He was suitably impressed by the calliope, but freaked out a bit over the dolls. I didn't realise he was scared of them. He made me shut the steamer trunk almost as soon as he saw them, and kept looking over to make sure it was closed. I decided not to tell him about the first time it had popped open.

He asked if I could play anything on the ancient steam organ, and so I sat down and began to play my grandpa's old circus tune. Again I began to pick up speed, to play faster and faster as the whistles began to shriek. I felt a hand touch mine firmly, abruptly stopping the music. Josh stood there, shaking slightly, his face deathly pale. On impulse I looked over to the chest of dolls, but the lid was firmly shut. I asked him what was wrong and he said he didn't know. He just wanted to leave. Now. So we did. Climbed back down out of the loft, and I lowered the wooden trapdoor behind us.

The next few weeks were... unpleasant. I don't want to go into detail. Let's just say I discovered that Josh was just another asshole after all. Our relationship was already going through a rocky patch. It didn't help that in those last weeks he became moody, short-tempered, constantly on edge. When I finally found out that he had... It doesn't matter. We broke up. It left me pretty much destroyed, coming so soon after my grandpa's death. I just tuned everything out again.

Eventually, it was tripping over a box that did it. One of the ones I'd put all my grandpa's stuff into, and never actually got round to putting in the loft. I decided to just get it over with. I guess I hoped a tidier house would give me more space to think. So for the third time, I got out that ladder and climbed into the loft. If didn't take as long to store all the boxes as I'd thought, and within an hour I was done. I had been so intent on packing away all my memories that I hadn't even looked at the old steamer trunk. As I went to climb down I glanced over, and I froze.

The lid was open again, and the clown doll was on top. It wasn't looking at me this time. Instead, it seemed to be facing a doll I hadn't seen before. This one still had its jaw as well, and I swear it looked just like Josh. Same tatty brown jacket, same old jeans. Its black, woollen hair even did that flicky thing he always spent so long getting right. It was lying against the side of the box, and I swear it looked like the clown was reaching for it. I slammed the box lid down and got the hell out of there. I bought a padlock the next day.

Now, I've brought a copy of the police report I gave, because you have to believe me that I did not play that calliope again. I had nothing to do with what happened to Josh. I came home from the cinema about a week later to find that my grandpa— my house had been broken into. Here, it's all in the report on the burglary I gave to the police. The front door lock was shattered and it swung gently to and fro.

At first I ran into my living room, my bedroom, but nothing had been taken. The electronics, my jewellery, it was untouched. I felt my stomach drop as I realised and ran towards the loft. Sure enough, it was open, the padlock torn from its hook. The calliope and the steamer trunk were gone.

They questioned my neighbours about it. None of them had seen anything except for Mrs. Harlow next door, who said she noticed two people taking out pieces of red sheet metal and brass pipes. She didn't remember any details, just said that they “looked legitimate” and she thought I was having some things moved. The police never found them.

I just need you to believe that. To know I didn't play the thing again. It wasn't my fault, what happened to Josh. God knows I hated him enough back then, but... I could never called anything like that upon him. Not like that. I don't suppose you need me to tell you how they found him. Four days later, dead in his room. His throat was crushed. And his jaw was torn clean off. The police never found it.

I wouldn't have thought of it, really. Wouldn't have... put it all together even then. Not if it hadn't been for the fact that, in the last days of our relationship, Josh had broken down. He told me that he still heard that calliope music. Far off, when he was alone. And it had been getting gradually closer. I mean, they say you can hear one from almost a mile away.

Archivist Notes:

While I have what I would consider to be some natural reservations about a tale of murderous clown dolls, there are a few things that make me more inclined than usual to believe this statement. Firstly, as Ms. Denikin mentioned, she did provide a copy of the official police report into the burglary, which includes testimony from one Irene Harlow that appears to confirm Ms. Denikin did possess both a steamer trunk and calliope organ, so those at least existed. The death of Joshua Drury is also at least as mysterious as she made it sound. In addition to his jaw being torn clean off his skull, residual evidence indicates that his throat was crushed with some sort of rope, apparently woven out of thick wool. There was no evidence of a struggle or of forced entry, no DNA evidence of anyone in the room aside from himself. No-one was ever arrested for the crime.

When discussing this case, Tim said it reminded him of some articles he'd read on travelling circuses in Russia and Poland during the early 20th century. On a whim, I hunted down a few of the volumes he mentioned in the Institute's library, and sure enough on page 43 of Gregory Petry's Freaks and Followers: Circuses in the 1940s, I found a reproduction of an old black-and-white photograph. It shows a small group of carnival workers: a contortionist, a fire-eater, two strong-men, a ringmaster and a organist sitting behind a calliope. The photograph is labelled as being from 1948 and taken in Minsk, Russia. Only the ringmaster and organist are named: Gregor Osinov and Nikolai Denikin. The name of the troupe was Цирк другого [[Tsirk druh-grova]] – the Circus of the Other. The name rings a bell, but I can't find any other reference to it.

Ms. Denikin emigrated to South-East Asia two years ago, so was unavailable for any follow-up, but I'm sure there must be more on this somewhere in the Archives. Because I know for a fact that sitting in the Magnus Institute's Artefact Storage, is a bright red Calliaphone steam organ. When I asked Elias, he just told me that the record of its acquisition was “probably in the archive somewhere” and no-one else knows anything beyond the fact that it was acquired somewhere in 2007. The keyboard cover is firmly locked, and scratched into the surface are the words: “Be still, for there is strange music”.

Source: Official Transcript and Podcast (MAG 24 Strange Music)

#the magnus archives #magnus archives #MAG #MAG24 #MAG 24 #Strange Music #StrangeMusic #Statement #The Stranger #The Circus of the Other #Цирк другого

4 notes · View notes

davidcarner · 6 years

Text

Hotel California Ch 7, I’ll Have What She’s Having

A/N: So, housekeeping. I wrote nothing last week. I have a few I've held back I'll go ahead and post, but Grace, well….her foot's not better and my wife is working 80 hours a week so….hi, my name is David and I am Daddy Uber…I'm doing what I can guys. I am working on Casey & Walker, but that is a huge moment, so I need to get it right. I know you're getting this and at least one chapter of Wanting it All this week, and for next week….I have no idea and I'm sorry.

Okay, that out of the way, get ready, we're gonna have fun with this one. Now we have two choices, get rid of Bryce quickly and a lot of the conflict in this fic is gone so then it probably won't last long OR torture the poor guy…heheheheh BTW Dillwg, good catch on the title….Welcome to Hotel California Ch 7, I'll Have What She's Having

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, and parts of When Harry Met Sally may have influenced this fic just a little.

"Think I should call Ellie now, or wait until later?" Chuck asked Sarah as they entered the restaurant.

She started to answer when she saw a couple sitting in a booth. The woman's eyes met Sarah's and they both smiled. "Don't think that's necessary."

As the hostess walked up to them, Chuck gave her a look suggesting she was crazy. "A table or a booth?" the hostess asked.

"Actually they're going to join us," Ellie said, as she arrived from her booth. Chuck turned around, mouth open. Ellie had that smile on her face.

Chuck's wheels started spinning. "Uh, Ellie, are you sure that's a good idea, I mean you and Awesome get so little time together."

Sarah smirked at Ellie. "We'll be over there in a minute." Ellie winked at Sarah, turned, and walked back. Sarah turned to Chuck. "What is wrong?"

"You don't understand what you're doing, that is Ellie, the hurricane, if she even thinks there is anything going on between us, she will lose her mind, and if you don't want people to think you're dating your coworker, then she is the last person we should have dinner with." Chuck was nearly panting from rushing all of that out as one super-long sentence.

"You done?" Chuck nodded sheepishly. "Ever think perhaps I thought I'd want to meet my partner's family, since they have done so much for him. Ever think if I'm going to help him shop for Christmas presents for his family I might need to meet them?"

"You got her contact info from my phone!" Chuck said suddenly, like Sherlock Holmes solving a case.

Sarah eyed him. She held up a finger. "One, how else was I going to meet her?" She held up another. "Two, I needed emergency contact information for my partner, what was I supposed to do if something happened to you?" Chuck had no response for one or two. She used her counting hand to brush one of his stray curls to the side. In his peripheral vision, he saw Ellie's eyes widen as she took that in. There was no damage control for this. "Besides," Sarah went on explaining, "I told you, we're more than coworkers, so if they think we're dating, what can I do to stop them from thinking...well, whatever they think?" With that she turned and headed toward Ellie. Chuck's head was spinning again, but the more he studied what she said, the more he liked it.

He reached out and gently caught her wrist. "Hey, wait a second." She stopped and danced toward him, stopping very close. He caught his breath facing her warm, playful eyes. "Listen, you keep saying we're partners, but partners are just that. So far you've been running this whole thing, and while I have no problem with it, sometimes I'd like to be informed. Meeting my sister like this….it's kinda a big deal."

"So, we're partners, really?" The look on her face was hopeful. He nodded slowly. "Okay, in the future I'll remember to keep that all in mind."

"That's all I ask." They finally realized at that moment they were standing oh-so-close in the middle of the restaurant. That really didn't bother either of them, but Ellie was staring at them with a look on her face that that echoed the hope on Sarah's. What none of them noticed during these frozen seconds was that Bryce had sauntered into the restaurant, seen them, and jerked to a stop. He stared, his eyes narrowing at for a few seconds before he stomped out.

At the table, formal introductions were made. Chuck watched Awesome and Ellie both fight to contain their mounting excitement. Sarah was telling them about how hard Chuck had been working and how he hadn't wanted to watch a horror movie.

"He's always been a little squeamish," Ellie explained, grinning fondly at her little brother. "He wouldn't even watch my favorite show for a long time until Hannah showed up."

"Hannah?" Sarah asked, looking over at Chuck. "What show was this?"

"Dexter," Ellie offered. "He had a bit of a crush on her."

Awesome snorted. "More like a full-on crush." He pulled up a picture of Hannah McKay on his phone. "Huh, he might have a type." Chuck blushed all the way down to his roots. Sarah turned to him, an amused smile on her face and then looked back to the picture.

"I don't think she looks like me," Sarah deadpanned.

Everyone at the table was quiet at that, but Chuck knew what he wanted to say, but did he have the courage? He lifted his glass, ready to take a drink. "I figure Awesome meant the crazy part," he said, and then quickly drank his water. Sarah's mouth fell opened as she laughed out loud. Ellie's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Awesome…was just awesome. His laugh rang through the entire restaurant.

"Chuck, you can't say that," Ellie hissed.

"It's fine, Ellie," Sarah assured her. "It's kinda our thing, I mean I don't think I've ever killed anyone with poison…I don't think." She looked at Chuck out of the corner of her eye, making sure everyone saw her do it. She smiled enigmatically.

"This drink tastes funny," Chuck said with a completely serious look on his face. The entire table cracked up again.

-ooooo-

Chuck grumbled to himself and looked at the clock. It was 3:00 am. He didn't know when he was getting out of the hotel. After dinner, Ellie and Awesome invited Sarah back to their place for movies, and Sarah accepted. Chuck wasn't entirely sure where he was supposed to sit on the couch, but Sarah solved that by plopping down right beside him and then snuggling against him. After the movie ended, Sarah said she should get going since the two of them had a big day planned tomorrow. Chuck walked her out and they stopped at the fountain.

"Come out here to think a lot, Chuck?" She was looking at the fountain, up at the stars, just enjoying the beauty. He sat and patted the spot on the fountain beside him. "I think I'd get lost looking up in the sky if I tried to think," Sarah mused.

"The sky actually helps." He was looking up, not noticing her watching him. "When you're looking up there it helps see the big picture and all the crazy, petty stuff of this world gets put into its place, in perspective. Here and at the beach are two of my go-to places to think."

"I'd like to visit that beach."

"I'll take you." He paused. What was it about her that just made him speak without thinking, from the heart? He knew he was mostly honest with people, but with her, it was complete, spontaneous. "I mean, er, that is, if you want to go."

"Why wouldn't I, Chuck?" She breathed the question out softly.

"What are we doing, Sarah?" He turned to look at her. The smile on her face looked like it was only for him, private between them. "This thing with Ellie, us doing stuff, what is going on?"

She swallowed, and decided he deserved the truth. "Do you remember me asking you for coffee?"

"Yes." She waited for more, and eventually he got the hint. The wrong one. "I know, I know, I'm not a coffee guy."

She leaned in close, shaking her head a little. "Chuck, did you know some people use that line to ask someone else out on a date?"

"Really, good thing I didn't….OH MY GOD! You were asking me out!?" She pressed her lips together and slowly nodded. He continued in a mini-spiral. "And my final was that night and you must have thought I was an idiot." She kept her lips pressed together, but gave a shrug that answered his question. "So the thing tonight, you just did it because you were afraid I'd do something stupid and say no." She nodded. "Sarah, was tonight a date?"

"I don't know." There was a playful grin on her face. "I'm afraid you'd feel forced to kiss me if it was."

"Forced?" She nodded. "Sarah, I mean I could suffer through it, although you might run yelling and screaming."

"It'd be that good, Bartowski?" She deliberately widened her eyes.

"Don't think so." Chuck said, shrinking from the challenge, suddenly afraid of disappointing her.

"Why don't you let me be the judge," she said, leaning in and drawing him to her. It was at that moment she heard the Imperial March playing.

"Oh, COME ON!" he yelled, digging his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, hotel emergency." She snickered. "Bartowski, IT." He dropped his head and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Seriously? I'm gonna have to wipe it, to clean it would take hours. Bryce, dude, are you serious? I know, you are in charge, but….okay, I'm on my way." He hung up and turned to her, and she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled his lips to hers. Their lips met and Chuck mind became a stranger to his body. Sarah ran her tongue across his and he moaned into her mouth, making her smile even as she kissed him. She twisted his shirt, pulling him in closer, and their hips made contact. She put her hand on the back of his neck, her thumb right under his ear. His hand came down her shoulder, and slipped down her back slowly. His hand lightly touched her hip bone. She moaned into his mouth, and he grinned even as he kissed her.

She pulled away slightly. "You better go, you know...before," she stopped talking but the look she gave him suggested a lot. A WHOLE lot. He understood for the first time why a look could be called 'suggestive'.

"You're right." But Chuck showed no signs of listening to his own advice. In fact, he was embracing her tighter as he talked, if that were possible. "It's Bryce, though, and I don't want to dilly dally." Dilly dally? Why, why did he keep doing this? He shut his eyes and felt her head fall forward onto his chest. She was laughing silently.

"Chuck Bartowski." He opened his eyes and saw hers staring up at him, smirking. "Don't you ever change."

"Well, I haven't yet, so I think you're stuck with me like this." He paused, that might have sounded a bit presumptuous.

The look she gave him made him so want to stay. "Good, I can handle it."

He had to know. "Still haven't figured it out, Walker," he said softly. "In fact, I think I'm farther away from figuring it out than I've ever been."

"Oh, I think you have." She was smiled her enigmatic smile again, but then her expression opened. "I just hadn't met the right one."

"Really? Because 'hadn't' implies that your circumstances have changed."

"I thought that's what that kiss did?" He gulped, and she laughed. "Go, you'll piss Bryce off, and you don't need that. I'll see you in the morning." She leaned forward and pecked his lips. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on my crazy."

A beep pulled Chuck out of his thoughts. He looked at the computer and saw that the last scrub was about to begin. His eyes were heavy. He set a timer on his phone and laid on the couch. He'd get a quick 20 minute nap, and by then the last scrubbing should be done. Hopefully he'd be home by 4am. Hopefully.

-ooooo-

"Chuuuuck." He heard the voice softly in his dream. She was leaning over him, whispering into his ear.

"At least you're clothed this time," he mumbled. He was on his side facing her, his back against the couch. She was wearing jeans and a shirt of some sort. Normal attire. He was glad his dreams were more respectful. His eyes burned and he really wanted to close them.

She smirked and something sparked through him. He was too tired for this, but someone forgot to tell his brain. "I can get unclothed if it will help."

"No, that's not nice of me. Sorry about that dream."

She had squatted down and was gently stroking his hair. "Was it a good dream?"

These dreams were getting ultra-realistic. It was so real. He couldn't believe how real it felt. How good her fingers running through his hair felt. It felt like she was really doing it to him. "I mean I probably shouldn't tell you this, but since you're a dream it doesn't matter. You weren't unclothed, exactly, you were just wearing...a thing."

That grin. God, he'd give anything for her to look at him like that in real life. It was a little naughty, with a whole lot of something, what he wasn't sure, but something good. "A thing?"

"Yeah, it was lacy, gauzy, and your legs…"

He spaced out, and she ran her hand down his jaw. She leaned in very close before she spoke. "Chuck?"

This was a dream, right? "Sorry…please, for the love of God, tell me I'm dreaming." The smile on her face told him he was not, in fact, dreaming. He'd dream-confessed his real dream to his dream-Sarah but had really confessed to the real Sarah. He was ready to crawl under the couch. She stood, then stretched out on top of him. Him on his side, her on top of him.

She could tell he was nervous, from this her placement, or from what he had told her, she didn't know, but if it was the latter, she knew what to do about it. "You weren't wearing anything lacy in my dream," she said softly. His eyes shot open and looked up at her. She hummed as she grinned at him.

Things had obviously changed, but how much? "So, for the record, have you revised your no dating policy?"

"No," she said, playing with his curls. "We're partners, Chuck, we do things together, and what we do together is our business."

He thought about what she said for a minute. "That's semantics. Too much semantics on too little sleep."

She leaned in close, her lips inches from his ear. "I prefer to think of it as syntax. Partners do ALL sorts of things together." She felt him gulp. "You want to check your program and us get out of here?"

"Yes, yes I do." He checked his watch. "Wow, what a nap." She got off of him, a perpetual grin stuck on her face. He went over and checked the main frame. "Thank God, I got it. That thing kicked my ass."

"I didn't think it'd take you all night," Bryce complained, entering the office. "Must be getting distracted." He shot a look at Sarah.

"Seriously, Bryce, he's busting his ass to get the security ready, he's worked on this, he's barely slept, and you're giving him grief?" Chuck watched Sarah defend him, and he was more than a little shocked at her intensity.

"I think maybe he's distracted."

Sarah stared daggers at Bryce. Chuck could almost imagine her throwing actual daggers. "I think he's trying to figure out your system, Bryce"

Bryce swallowed and his eyes narrowed. "That can be…difficult. Good job, Chuck." And with that, he retreated. Chuck turned to Sarah.

"Don't say a word, Chuck, you're not fighting these battles alone anymore." He smiled at her. That's the best thing he had heard in a very long time.

-ooooo-

"Come on, let me buy you lunch for helping me all day, Sarah." They had shopped for several hours and for the first time in his life, Chuck had really enjoyed it. Which was surprising given the amount of coffee he drank and bathroom trips that were required because of it.

She gave him a little shoulder bump. "First, thank you, but no."

He grinned at her. "Because then it's a date?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Chuck, maybe I want to buy you lunch."

He shrugged. "Okay."

She looked at him in surprise. Most men would have had a problem with that, but then again, most men weren't Chuck Bartowski she was realizing. "Really?"

"What, I can't let a woman, a beautiful woman, buy me lunch?" She rolled her eyes. He looked around, leaned in, and whispered softly. "Like, are there strings attached to this lunch." She giggled.

"Yep, I need more details of that dream. A complete, three-dimensional re-telling"

"Guess I'll be buying my own lunch," he quipped flatly. She laughed as they came to the food court.

"Also, I really don't want mall food." He looked over at her.

"Oh," he said with a grin.

She caught the tone, knew he was playing, suggesting she was high-maintenance, but she decided to fight back. Her jaw dropped like she was in shock. "Oh, don't start that mess. It's not that I'm picky. I want a cheeseburger, a good cheeseburger."

His eyes lit up. "I know a place. A hole in the wall."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Wow, Walker, Now I know!" He sounded Sherlock Holmes again. She looked confused. "I mean if a guy you were dating saw you look like that at the mere thought of a cheeseburger, he could feel jealous, or seriously inadequate."

She laughed. "Do you feel jealous? Or inadequate, Chuck?" she asked very softly and emphasized the "k"

"Why should I?" he asked, grinning and shrugging. "Anyway, we're not dating."

She shoulder bumped him. "That's right, we're partners."

"Partners who kiss?"

"Oh, yes, and other things."

He gulped. She was crazy, but so was he, about her. Completely crazy.

-ooooo-

"You okay, you're not eating much?" Sarah had noticed Chuck hadn't taken many bites of his food, and frankly wasn't even looking in her direction. He had a grin on his face, and he looked a little red. She was wondering if he had been awake for too long. "How much more do we have to do?"

"Oh, I think we've gotten all the necessary stuff that I needed to get for my family, it's my partner I can't figure out." He still wouldn't look at her. He seemed to be fighting off a laugh. She took another bite of the burger. Dear God was that a good burger, it might be better than…oh. As soon as it started to dawn on her, he spoke. "Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?" His eyes were dancing as he looked up at her, his jaw trembling, barely preventing the explosion of laughter.

Was he implying…? "It wasn't that bad…was it?" The look on his face said it was. Well, two could play at that game. "Sorry, Chuck, you're the first man to ever satisfy me." He went red as a Santa Claus suit. "With a burger, of course, and a pickle."

"Of course," he choked out.

Oh, this was too much fun. "I have half a mind to take your phone from you, drive you to my house, put you in bed, and make you stay there for several hours." He turned redder. How that was possible, she wasn't sure. She'd need sunglasses to look at him soon. "I mean…" she held out the pause for a long, long time, "you've barely slept the past few days."

There was a slight look of relief on his face, but was that disappointment as well? The grin on her face was growing into a smirk. He knew he had to get control of the situation. "Sarah, you have teased me to no end the past few days." She bounced a shoulder. "I don't want to upset you if I tease back, and I've taken it too far." She plopped the last bit of the burger into her mouth, and folded her hands together as she leaned forward. She looked him right in the eye.

"Chuck, can I have some?" she asked seductively. He was red again all over, or so she supposed.. "Of your burger, if you're not going to eat it." He shook his head, a grin on his face, and pushed it to her.

He leaned back watching her smirk and chew at the same time. A yawn forced its way out of him and she gave him a look. "I'm not gonna lie, spending time in bed does sound nice."

"Me in my lacy, guazy...thing?" she asked with a wink. He shook his head, he was losing at this game, so far behind, and he found he didn't care, in fact, he quite enjoyed it.

"And me...not," he replied. She began to giggle.

"Nice, Bartowski, nice." She finished his burger. "Come on, I'm taking you home and putting you to bed."

"You know I have no idea what you even mean by that, but I find I don't care." He scooted out, turned, and she was standing right there.

"Just remember, I take care of my partner." She winked and sashayed toward the door.

"God, I hope you know CPR," he muttered, and headed after her.

A/N: I am having too much fun with this story…just way too much…come on back next time fro An Exclusive Partnership…too much fun…take care…see you soon…til next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #fanfic #fanfiction

0 notes