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apixrl · 3 years

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DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

#katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #anime x reader #anime #x reader #angst #katsuki bakugou x female reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugou

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angellesword · 3 years

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (10)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

SERIES: CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 11

Note: I just wanna dedicate this chapter to @jooniebugg coz your feedback in Your Eyes Tell (09) is <333 and it inspired me to write chapter 10! some lines in this update is my response to your comment heheh :*

You were not in trouble, but Jeongguk was.

"Guk," Jimin let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Slow down, okay? I can't understand what you're saying."

But Jeongguk couldn't do it. He was sobbing uncontrollably that Jimin literally had to tell him to breathe.

Jeongguk tried to follow the instruction of his best friend's boyfriend. Breathe. It should be easy, right? He only needed to stop thinking about you in able to breathe properly.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to get you out of his mind.

"You good?"

Your soulmate nodded even though Jimin couldn't see his face. They're currently talking over the phone. Jimin called him after finding out what happened during the trial.

It was all over the news. Countless of articles were published online. Most of them were unreliable and full of speculations.

Jimin gave up after reading one sentence. He knew he had to call you to know the truth—or at least the fragments of truth. Jimin wasn't really interested in the case; he was only interested to know what was up with you.

Were you alright?

Jimin found some of your decisions in life questionable, yet he didn't say anything. He remained tight-lipped when you told him about your entangled fate not only with Jeongguk, but also with your assistant and client.

Just like your soulmate, Jimin could not understand why you were trying to defend Kim Seokjin. Their reason was different though. Jeongguk's thoughts were selfish. Jimin, on the contrary, was plain curious.

Why were you so invested in this case?

Was it because of your stubborn nature? Jimin knew that once you set your mind into something, you wouldn't stop until you won.

Jimin only learned to accept your competitive side when he realized that you were raised this way.

You didn't choose to be like this. You were actually forced to be like this. This being the case, Jimin was only able to release an exhausted breath after Jeongguk told him what happened in the courtroom.

Some might say that you pushed too hard, but this didn't give Mrs. Kim the right to hurt you.

"It's my fault, hyung. I wasn't there to protect her." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

It had been an hour since you locked yourself in your room and Jeongguk wasn't sure whether to comfort you or to just leave you alone.

It felt like you preferred the latter option. Jimin told your soulmate that you weren't answering your phone, an obvious indication that you didn't want to talk to anyone. This was also the reason why Jimin decided to just call Jeongguk to know if you were okay.

You weren't.

It was weird, but Jeongguk was positive he could feel your heart breaking. If this was any other day, he was sure that he would simply ignore this, but something definitely changed. Jeongguk didn't know why, but he had this intense urge to embrace you—to make you feel better.

"But you can protect her now, Guk. It will be hard, but please..." Jimin begged your soulmate. He didn't want to burden Jeongguk; however, the latter was the only person who could comfort you right now.

As much as Jimin wanted to embrace you, he couldn't. He was in Busan, his hometown, at the moment. Jimin was processing some important documents because he's planning to ask Taehyung to marry him.

"W-What can I do to make her feel better?" Jeongguk stammered. He's nervous, but he's decided. He couldn't let you go through this alone. It hadn't even been a day, yet he already missed your goofy side.

"You're a smart boy, Jeon. You'll figure out what she wants."

What do you want?

Jeongguk's heart was recoiling once again. He realized that he never knew what you wanted since you were always catering what others wanted.

You were a people pleaser.

"But if nothing works, just call her parents." This was Jimin's last reminder before ending the call.

Your soulmate didn't understand why Jimin thought it would be a good idea to call your parents. Jeongguk was pretty sure he could bring the smile back on your face without the help of anyone. He just needed to make sure you were not in some kind trouble first.

Jeongguk opened your laptop to send an email to your boss and other clients, telling them that you were taking a break from work.

Jeongguk was tired by the end of the week. Jimin was right. It was difficult to help you get back on your feet, mainly because you weren't trying.

You stayed in bed most of the time, you barely touched your food, and he felt like you didn't even want to live.

You looked so unmotivated that in the end, Jeongguk decided to just message your parents and invite them to your apartment—this was the reason why he was in trouble.

"You can't just do this without consulting me, Jeongguk."

His scowl deepened when you called him using his given name. You only did this when you were serious or mad. In this case, he figured out that you were mad—or at least he thought you were mad. Your voice was rough, similar to the tone you used when you were inside the courtroom.

Jeongguk was scared.

He was scared to upset you again.

"But Jimin-hyung told me to call your parents!" He reasoned out. Blaming your best friend was the only way Jeongguk could think of so that he could finally escape your piercing glare.

It worked.

Your expression softened a bit, though this didn't mean that he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Jeongguk," this time your voice sounded tired.

"Y-Yes?" He pretended like he was busy sweeping the floor. Everything needed to be perfect because your parents would be here shortly.

You already accepted your tragic fate. It was decided. You were going to meet your mother and father today.

Damn it.

"Why did you block Hoseok's number?"

You saw how Jeongguk froze after hearing your question. No doubt, he was guilty.

"I-I didn't do it!" He lied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're not a good liar..." Amusement was now dancing in your voice.

Jeongguk had been using your phone to respond to your prospective clients. These people just didn't know how to stop. They kept texting your personal number even though Jeongguk told them that you were on a leave.

Your phone didn't have a passcode that's why he was able to freely access it.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful. He saved your career. If he didn't send a notice of leave to your boss, you were sure you're gonna get fired.

"I'm not lying!" His lips protruded into a sulky pout. "I didn't send those messages!"

"Huh." You arched your brow. "But I only asked why you blocked Hoseok. I didn't say you texted him using my number."

Jeongguk's eyes went wide.

He was instantly busted.

"H-He was spamming you with useless messages!"

"I don't think so," you shook your head as you read the conversation. His excuse just kept on getting worse.

"Wow. You're cold," you could imagine Hoseok's disbelief upon seeing the thumbs up emoji. It was actually apparent by your friend's response.

"Jeongguk..." You called his name again.

"What!?" Why was he getting annoyed?

"You don't want Hoseok to kiss me?"

Jeongguk looked like the emoji he sent to Hoseok.

"And why would I want that!?" His chest was heaving up and down. You couldn't see, but his face was as red as tomatoes.

You suddenly laughed, causing Jeongguk's heart to swell in joy. This was the first time he heard you laugh after weeks of getting used to your impassive face.

Were you finally moving on?

Jeongguk guessed you were. Your expression literally changed the moment your parents arrived.

You looked happy to see them—too happy that Jeongguk felt like he was only imagining your annoyed expression a short while ago.

Didn't you say you hated the fact that he invited your parents to your place?

You did say that. Unfortunately Jeongguk had no idea how much you hated talking to your mom.

You swore you loved her with all of your heart, though her principles were different from what you believed in. It was draining to pretend like you agree with her.

"So how's the case you've been handling, sweetheart?" Your mother's sweet smile made you cringe.

It hadn't been long since she pulled you inside your room to 'talk.'

Your parents had already met Jeongguk. As expected, they loved him. Your soulmate made it very easy to like him. Perhaps it was because of his eyes. Damn those big, doe eyes. It never failed to make your heart melt.

"Good." You walked towards your bedroom door. "Let's go back to the kitchen. I think Jeongguk prepared some desserts."

"Dessert could wait, dear." Your mom offered you another sickening smile. It was the kind of smile that told you to give up. She always had her way of making you follow what she wanted you to do.

"Come on, eomma." You laughed nervously as you told her that your soulmate was excited to let her try his yaksik, a popular dessert that your mom truly loved.

You didn't know how Jeongguk found out your mother's favorite dessert. You just knew that you were willing to eat dozens of yaksik just to get away from your mom. You didn't even care if your stomach was still full after eating the lunch your soulmate had cooked.

Your mom only shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't hear what you said.

"Tell me about the Kim's case." She demanded as she meticulously inspected your wardrobe.

Your heartbeat doubled.

It was easy to simply give into what she desired because you were certain that she wouldn't stop anyway.

Sadly you couldn't speak—not anymore. Not when you knew how all of this would go.

You wanted to move on from this nightmare on your own. All your life, you relied upon what your mother would say.

"You can't be sad over this. It's nothing compared to what I've been through!"

"Stop crying. You just think you're hurt. You're not."

"No. You can't. That shows weakness."

These were some of the things your mother would say whenever you encountered problems in life. She honed you to be this strong person who wasn't allowed to mope.

You remembered her telling you that it was insensitive of you to cry over little things when it was clear that so many people had it worse than you.

This was exactly why you didn't want to meet your mother today. She would force you to stop feeling bad about Seokjin's case since it was petty.

It was funny actually. People admired you for always ignoring the pain you felt.

You found this toxic. It felt like you were expected to be strong—making you feel like you should heal right away and not with your own pace. This was also the reason why you found it hard to open up to people, even if you were really close to that someone.

Your mother made you feel like there would always be some kind of adversary when it came to handling inconveniences in life. Sometimes you wished people would shut up and just listen. You didn't always need advice. What you wanted was for them to stop��quantifying pain because people had different tolerance when it came to feeling what's painful and what's not.

"I think I lost," it took everything not to cry in front of her. At the end of the day, you were still afraid to be perceived as weak.

She had that much control over you.

"Why did you lose?" Her voice was stone cold.

Your response was automatic. You told her what happened during the trial in spite of telling yourself that you would never get swayed by her authoritarian nature anymore.

"You don’t have to answer. I know now why you lost." She crossed her arms as she shook her head at you.

"Didn't I tell you? You lost because you didn't acquire enough knowledge." She proceeded to tell you what you already knew.

Your mom always said that knowledge is power, but the word "knowledge" that was delicately tattooed on your Achilles heel said otherwise.

For you, knowledge is downfall. This was why you chose to have that word tattooed on your Achilles heel—a part of your body that symbolized fatal weakness.

You were working as an auditor before you decided to go to law school. You knew this field inside out and it came with a price. You helped a firm conceal fraudulent acts using your knowledge.

It was a dangerous thing. Your mom tolerated your unprofessionalism since she was a major stockholder in the said company. She actually pushed you to continue the misrepresentation; however, you were guilty.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't use the power you acquired to fool people. Law school taught you to uphold justice, but you were blinded once again.

You failed to see the impact of your actions to Soobin, an innocent soul. Maybe your mother was right. You were bound to fail your law career. Maybe you should just go back to the corporate world and help billionaires to achieve their disgusting scheme.

"Sorry," you swallowed hard, looking straight into your mother's eyes. "I'll do better."

"You should be." She gritted her teeth as she continued to invalidate your emotions.

You wondered when the torture would stop. You just wanna lie in bed and sleep the pain away. Luckily Jeongguk came knocking on your door, saving you from your mother's poisonous words.

"Wait," Jeongguk stopped you from following your mom to the living room.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face; worry was evident in his eyes. You looked like you were in pain.

Did your mother say something to you? Jeongguk wondered.

"Nothing." But you brushed him off before he could ask.

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. He swore something was wrong, but he didn't want to push it since it was clear that you were not in the mood to talk about it.

But he couldn't stay still knowing that you were bothered. This being the case, he went out of his way just to make you smile.

Jeongguk was being such a good boy. He kept on praising you in front your parents. He was also respectful towards them. His jokes were appropriate and he smiled so kindly at them.

His lingering touch on your wrist, waist, and shoulders didn't go unnoticed by you. It was like he was guarding you from any possible danger.

"What do you think about this, my sweet daughter?" Your father showed you his artwork with a proud smile.

You chuckled.

Jeongguk was teaching your father how to draw.

"You did great, Appa!" You weren't lying. He had done a good job sketching The Hulk.

"Really? What about the color? Do you like it?"

You nodded eagerly. It wouldn't hurt to lie, right?

"I like the shade of green that you used."

You were expecting your father to smile back because of your compliment. Sadly, he only stared at you blankly.

"What?" A nervous giggle escaped your lips.

Your parents and even Jeongguk were making you feel awkward. Why were they looking at you like you were a poor, poor soul?

"This Hulk is color pink." Your father said softly, making your breathing hitch.

He was trying to show contrast. The Hulk was the personification of rage. He colored him pink because in your world, the mentioned color symbolized gentleness. He wanted you to see in his drawing that people should be gentle even though they're angry.

You ruined it.

They probably know by now that you were lying when you said earlier that you could see colors.

Why did you even lie?

Why couldn't you just tell them that Jeongguk wasn't in love with you?

"Ah," you scratched the back of your head. "Is it pink? Sorry, Appa. I'm still trying to learn colors."

Your lie was understandable. You told your parents that you met Jeongguk a few months ago. It was impossible to know all colors in a short period of time.

You knew you weren't a great liar, but damn. When you looked at Jeongguk, he was smiling as he mouthed, "it is okay," to you.

He was saying that you were doing well, that you didn't ruin what your father had been wishing for: he wanted you to be loved by your soulmate.

You felt like Jeongguk loved you.

You couldn't stop staring at your soulmate as he continued to smile brightly at you.

In this moment, you swore you could see the brown in his eyes.

Or so you thought.

You just couldn't have one peaceful day, could you?

"N-No..." Your voice broke, tears falling down on the sheet of paper you were holding.

Your parents already left. Jeongguk was kind enough to drive them back to their hotel.

You were alone in the house.

The paper in your hand was mocking you, telling you that you would forever be alone in this house.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP IN A CONTRACT TO SELL Vendee Jeon Jeongguk of Room 13, Apartment X, Seoul, South Korea—you stopped reading the next words.

You couldn't believe it.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to leave you.

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racheloveyunho · 3 years

Text

Till death do us part - 3

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2479

TW series: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: reader got slapped, reader run away from home, abusive and manipulative father, swearing.

The beating of my heart quickened. For the past two years I had dreamed about him every night and now, I was finally able to see him again.

"San!" I shouted happily, finally looking back at the handsome boy. He smiled back at me but his expression became cold again as he stared at Jinyoung. My so-called husband let my wrist go and hardly swallowed his spit.

"Y-you! What are you doing here?"

----------------------

Chapter 3

"What? Do you know each other?" I looked up at San for an answer

"His father is a customer of mine. I worked for him a couple of times, right Mr Hwang?"

Jinyoung stepped back with fear written all over his face. He was afraid of San. I somehow understand his feeling, I knew too well how San could be intimidating.

"I wouldn't ever touch Y/N again if I were you." San said with the most cold voice I ever heard in my life "I get upset pretty easily and I can't think straight when anger come over me. I guess you can understand."

"Why are you protecting her, I don't understand!" My fiancé shouted with fear in his voice.

"Because she's mine."

I blushed madly at San's words. Hana squirmed like a fangirl and clapped her hands while making embarrassing noises. I wished she wasn't there at this moment, I was over embarrassed and she wasn't helping me AT ALL.

I hide my face behind my hands. I wasn't paying attention to the two men's conversation anymore until I felt San's grip lightly tightening around me.

I looked up, Jinyoung was gone without my noticing.

"Are you okay?" San whispered to my ear.

‘Does he have to look at me like that? He’s driving me crazy!’

"He left?" I asked.

San nodded before letting me go. Strangely enough, I felt a wave of sadness and disappointment from the loose of contact even though I couldn't say it out loud, San would probably think I'm crazy since I met him just twice.

Quickly, Hana went to my side, grabbing my arm and shaking it with all her strength.

"Are you THE San?" She asked San with her eyes sparkling.

The moment I saw San's smirk I wished I could have run away from here. I looked at Hana with wide eyes and whispered "Could you stop being obvious for God's sake!"

It was no help, Hana was too happy to finally meet the man I talked about every day and she wasn't paying attention to what I was saying "You are indeed handsome!" she exclaimed "Do you have a girlfriend?"

'Oh God.'

"I don't..." he paused "yet" San looked at me with his sharp eyes.

I turned back and hide my red face the best I could. I was not the kind of girl to turn shy easily but San had this effect on me, he made me feel weak in my knees and made my heart raced.

Meanwhile, Hana was the happiest in the world at this moment, she knew that I never was on a relationship before so she was surely excited to play cupid for the both of us.

After a quick chat, which boiled down to Hana asking questions about everything and nothing, San told us that he was going back to his work and had to leave.

He walked away, but I followed him and with all the courage I could muster up, I grabbed his wrist to stop him. He looked back at me with a surprise expression.

"Can...Can you give me your phone number? It will be easier to see each other this way..." I looked straight at him, facing his usual strong gaze.

However, I wasn't as brave as I wanted to pretend and San wasn't dumb, my shaking hand grabbing his strong wrist was a clue enough for him to know how I really felt.

He smiled at me with a sincere and warm smile for the first time, his dimples in full display, before he gave me his hand. I looked at it, confused, and put my hand on his own.

"Not your hand, give me your phone. Don't you want my number anymore?" he laughed at my action and again, my face turned red.

"Yeah, sure!" I stuttered, giving him my phone. He quickly entered his number on it before giving it back to me.

"Let's talk more often then, Kim Y/N"

Hearing him saying my whole name was something special, a mysterious feeling grew inside of me but it wasn't an unpleasant one.

I waved my hand at him as he walked away, disappearing from my sight.

"I think I need holy water" Hana breathed out.

It was already 9 pm, the sun was giving way to the dark night where the moon reigned as a queen.

It had been a long day, a very long one.

I met Jinyoung, my unwanted fiancé, San helped me against him and Hana hadn't let me get home until I admitted that I had a crush on San.

It was weird to say it, I wasn't familiar with this new feeling. Was it love? Was it possible to feel love towards him already or was it just a physical attraction?

I threw my head on my pillow and yelled on it while shaking powerfully my legs on the bed.

Yes, San was handsome, but he wasn't just that. He had something that attracted me and I couldn't explain what. It was like he was the answer of all my doubts and all of my issues. He was strong and intimidating but at the same time soft and reassuring. The last time I’ve felt this safe in someone’s arms was in my mom’s.

Bip Bip.

I looked at the small screen, a small notification indicating me that I had a new message.

I jumped out of my bed and stood up, excited by just some few words.

San

"Did you get home safely?"

Yes I did! I hope you got home without any issue too :)

No answer.

San didn't seem like the talkative type. I had to choose a topic to continue the conversation or else he wasn’t going to answer.

So...How old are you exactly? Do you still live with your family?

To my surprise, San answered me right away and we both talked for a few hours, totally forgetting about sleep. He talked to me more than I initially thought he would and I was glad for it.

I found out that he lived with his father, mother and older sister in Seoul in a rather affluent neighborhood. He was the same age as me and told me he had always been home schooled so he had a lot of free time.

He was following his father's path and helped him with his work.

I didn't asked him about it but I could easily guess that his dad worked with politicians since he San and Jinyoung knew each other from his dad’s work.

After a three hours long talk, I finally fell asleep while writing a message to San.

San

Sleep tight Y/N.

I slowly opened my eyes when the warm morning light hit my face. It had been a long time since I last sleep that well. I stretched my body and directly texted San.

Hello San! Sorry I fell asleep, I slept well, maybe thanks to all the things that happened yesterday lol!

I waited some minutes but he gave me no response. Was he still asleep?

I went downstairs and only found my father, eating alone. The table seemed bigger than usual without Jin there and I couldn’t help but think about my brother, I hadn't see him since the argument between him and my father and it was worrying me.

"Where is Jin?"

"I don't know where he is living now." My mouth opened at his statement. My unstable eyes were reading his face, trying to figure out and hoping that I heard things wrong.

"What do you mean? He lives here!" I shouted, my voice sounded less confident than usual.

My worry was growing at an incredible speed pace. I felt unwell for some reason and was afraid to understand the real meaning behind my father's word.

"Not anymore. He's an adult now, I no longer have any obligation to keep him home."

I couldn't believe what I was listening to. He kicked his own son out? How dared he?

I was about to shout out at him but his phone rang at the same moment. He took the call and started talking with an unknown correspondent.

His face quickly dropped and then glared at me with angry eyes. I gulped, unaware of the situation.

When he hung up, he angrily stood up and harshly slapped me on the face "What have you done!" he yelled.

My eyes were watering. He hurt me. It was the first time he laid a finger on me.

"Mr Hwang called me! His son, Jinyoung, met you yesterday and want now to end your engagement."

"It's for the best, I never wanted this anyways" I replied curtly.

He was about to slap me again but put down his arm and chuckled darkly "Fine, if you want to be a brat then I will treat you as one"

My father strongly grabbed my arm and dragged me to my bedroom, he was so angry and so harsh, he was, without any doubt, going to leave bruises on my body.

He threw me on the bed and took my phone with him.

"You won't be needing your phone anymore, I'm confiscating it. In the meantime, I want you to think about your behavior." he said "If you don't want to listen to me, then I will show you who is in charge here." he walked away "Ah, and just to say, this week you will took a plane and will go abroad to study." He informed me before locking the door and leaving me alone in my room.

"You can't do this! You can't force me to leave!!" I banged on the door fiercely. It was a nightmare, it couldn't be happening. I sat down, my back against the door and my head on my knees, silently crying.

It was already late at night, I didn't do anything the whole day. The only thing I could do was crying.

I finally wiped my tears away and stood up, determined to leave this house. I took a small bag and filled it with some clothes, wallet and other essential stuffs. I waited until no more noise could be heard in the house and quietly leave the house through the windows.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it will be, I found myself a new talent that night.

I went to the bus station, it was too late so there was no bus anymore.

Shit

I walked to the nearest hotel and went to the reception.

"Excuse me, I broke my phone and I really need to call someone to pick me up to go home. Is it possible to use your phone?" I asked with puppy eyes.

The male receptionist fell right away for my charms and gave me his phone, glad to help a young girl in distress. I thanked him and called my brother.

I silently thanked my good memory and was glad I remembered all the numbers on my phone. "The person you have called is unavailable right now..." the voice announced.

“No way...” my shoulders fell from disappointment. I had no other choice but to let him a message on his phone.

"Hey Jin, it's me... Listen, I had some...problems with dad, he took my phone away so I don't have a lot of way to reach you. I heard that he kicked you out, I hope you did find a place to sleep, hope you're eating well, hope that..." I sniffed, not able to contain myself anymore. "I'm scared Jin, dad wants me to study abroad cause my fiancé brook our engagement. I picked some stuff and now I'm out of the house but I don't know where to go and..." my voice broke because of all the emotions I had inside of me. "I'll call Hana and see if I can sleep at her place or else I'll sleep in a hotel. I love you, I'll call you again tomorrow." I stopped the voicemail message.

This time I tried Hana's number, fortunately she was a phone addict so she would answer to my call. "Yes my love~?" I heard her sleepy voice "Hey Hana" I said, my voice still trembling "What happened? Are you okay?" Her voice suddenly turned serious.

I quickly summarized my situation to her. "Listen, sweetie. Tonight I can't come to you, you have still money right? Sleep in a hotel and tomorrow you will took the first bus and come to my house, okay?" I agreed and hung up before asking a room to the receptionist.

The hotel room was half smaller than mine but it was better than nothing. There was a phone on the side of the bed.

'Should I call San?' I wondered while looking at the phone. Without a second thought, I entered the number of San and waited.

"Hello?"

"San! You answered!" I shouted through the phone, happy to hear his voice "I...I'm sorry I..."

"Where are you?" he asked "What?" I answered, surprised.

"You are not fine, are you? You're voice isn't as clear as usual."

I waited a long moment, I couldn't control my tears as they were running down my cheeks.

"Where are you?" He insisted.

"Dongdaemun hotel, room 322"

"I'm coming. Don't move." his voice softened.

My wait didn't last 20 minutes until I heard a knock on the door. I jumped and opened the door as soon as I heard the sound.

Here it was, the silhouette I liked the most

"San..."

He hugged me tightly as if there was no tomorrow. I noticed how he was sweaty and out of breathe, probably from running to get to me faster.

I breathed in his unique scent, it was woody scent, something fresh but still manly. I felt safer with him, everything was easier when he was by my side. I didn't want to let him go and my feelings seemed mutual as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I was like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet.

We sat down on the bed and he let me cry my heart out, listening every word I had to say. I told him my story, my conflictual relationship with my father, how harsh he was with me and my brother since my mom passed away and my arranged wedding with this Hwang Jinyoung.

We talked for two good hours about my problems but also about the future we both wanted.

As time went on, I started to feel sleepy, my eyelids were heavy and my mind was cloudy. I slowly closed my eyes until I fell into a deep sleep into San's arms. He gently patted my head to help me fall asleep.

"Don't worry Y/N, I will protect you from now on."

San hummed a song before falling asleep by Y/N’s side.

-----------

I hope you enjoy this story so far! In the next chapter, Y/N is going to make a choice for her future life so the story will truly start in the chapter 4.

Of course, I’m not encouraging anyone to run away from home, mostly if you are minor.

Thanks for reading! See you in the next chapter~

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2 @xduygu-arsx @joongiebug

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tyunniverse · 4 years

Text

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun

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tk-productions · 3 years

Text

Mystic Sisters- Ch.19 Trader

Masterlist🌙🌹

Hikari’s pov

It was a few days later and we were still in Yokohama. Yua went to get breakfast from the convenient store while I packed up the rest of my stuff. After Yua’s dream a few days ago we thought it was best to find out what this castle was that we kept seeing. We were headed to Yokosuka. It might bold a clue to us and powers. I tried contacting Saki but I couldn’t get a hold of her. When I last talked to her, that's where she told us to go. We still haven't heard from anyone. It had been days and our parents still haven't called. They probably don’t care at this point. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and braided my hair into two braids. Akio's hat still laid on the counter.

"Well since I still have it and it's cold I might as well wear it" I grinned and slipped the hat over my head. I don’t know why I was obsessed with him and his hat. Did I really just say that? That I was obsessed with him? According to Yua I was but I wouldn’t call it that.

"Im back!" Yua yelled. She was sitting the food on the little table we had in the room.

"Are you done packing?" she asked, sitting my food in front of me. I nodded unwrapping my onigiri. “I brought some more water since someone drank a gallon of water by herself.”

“I’ve been thirsty. Leave me alone.” We quickly ate so we could catch our train. Knowing how long it takes Yua we still might be late.

“When we get there I'll try contacting Saki again.” I told her once we got to the train surprisingly on time.

“If she doesn't answer we’ll stay in Yokosuka until we can reach her.”

Luckily it was only a 30 minute train ride and the train wasn't too packed. I shivered feeling a cold breeze. The same way I felt When Akio was around. I looked at Yua to see if she noticed too but she was too busy listening to music on her phone. Once we got off I felt another cold breeze. Quickly turning around I expected to see Akio like usual but he wasn't there. No one was.

"What's up?" Yua asked after I turned back around.

"Nothing let's go.” I told her grabbing my suitcase walking past her. I swear I felt him around. After dropping off our stuff at the hotel we went to a local ramen shop for lunch. As we walled back I heard my name being called. "Saki?" I said stopping in the tracks.

"Hikari I can't get to you guys right now. I'll come find you just not now. There's something going on. Mom and d-."

"Saki!" I called out, I called her name a few times but she didn't answer. Mom and dad? What was she gonna say?

"She sounded like someone or something was after her. She tried to tell me something but got cut off like last time. "I told Yua who was now standing in front of me.

"We'll just go back to the hotel or go to our grandparents since dad made it obvious he doesn't want us home.” She told me. I nodded grabbing her hand. I looked past my sister staring off into the distance. I could feel him nearly. This time I knew he was here. But where?

"What's wrong? she asked, grabbing my cheeks forcing me to look at her.

"He's here"I said blankly.

"Well Akio was right. You were easy to find."

Yua quickly turned around and Akio and his friend were there.So he was here earlier.

For a second I could have sworn he smiled at me but when I looked closer he still had the same blank look on his face. Akio and I stared at each other, not breaking eye contact until Yua spoke up.

"How the hell did you find us? We're not even in Tokyo any more.”

“Just because you left Tokyo doesn’t mean we couldn't find you.” The older boy pointed at the hat I was wearing. “That belongs to my brother little girl.”

I sucked in my breath and was shocked. “Excuse me I am not little!” I said stomping my feet.

Akio smirked at my reaction. The other boy looked at me and then at Akio. “I guess she’s your type.”

Akio looked insulted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What are you tryna say Riyoshi?”

“Oh nothing, don't get all butt hurt now.”

“So your names Riyoshi?” Yua questioned.

“That Princess is none of your business.” Riyoshi told Yua “However you should be worried about your boyfriend though I left a pretty big scar on his face.”

“Try his whole body.” Akio chimed in, chuckling. “Don’t downplay it man you nearly killed that guy.”

“Yea but he can die later he’s not our mission.”

“Y'all are really too handsome for this shit. What’s so important about us?”

Riyoshi seemed to find that amusing while Akio just stood there.

“Well isn’t this a nice surprise .” Says an unknown guy walking up.

“And you are?” Yua asked

“My name is --

“Irrelevant. We're busy, go away.” Yua snapped.

“Right we don't need anymore weirdo’s here.” I said.

“You little bitches. First off my name is Levi.” Levi was definitely triggered.

“Who are you calling weird?” Akio and Riyoshi said in unison.

I ignored them and looked at my sister. “This is getting bad very fast. Let's get the hell out of here.”

“You really think we have a chance there's three of them. Stay put!”

“Looks like they can communicate by just looking at each other. Interesting.”

“It’s called telepathy dumb ass.” Riyoshi shot at Levi.

I decided it was time to shoot some fire and make a break for it since they obviously weren't paying attention at the moment.

“Yua throw that car and i'll blow it up, decent distraction don’t you think?”

“We're sister’s for a reason. Let's do it on 3.”

“1” I started.

“2” Yua followed.

“3!” We said aloud. Catching the boy's attention but the plan was already in effect.

Yua used her powers and tossed a car in their direction and I shot a fireball at it causing it to explode. Yua grabbed my hand and we ran as fast as we could and I was happy because I still had my hat. He shouldn’t have given it to me, it's mine now.

We made it to a nearby ally before Riyoshi literally jumped off of a building and landed in front if us with Akio right behind him. “Damn not gonna lie that was a little hot.” Riyoshi said basically giving my sister the eye.

“Wow you're trying to kidnap us and you're flirting at the same time. You and my sister are made for each other.”

“Hikari now is not the time to promote my antics.” Yua snapped.

“I thought it was pretty funny.” Riyoshi answered.

“What is happening right now?” I asked very confused.

“What’s happening is these idiots have betrayed the VHA.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Riyoshi said darkly.

“Oh yea when your little brother here saved his little girlfriend I caught it all on camera and showed it to Amelia.” Levi said with a big smirk on his face. “Long story short your public enemy number one now. Both of you. Amelia was so hurt when she watched the video. She couldn’t believe that two boys she practically raised would turn on her and choose to side with the enemy. You know her policy on loyalty right? Since you betrayed her everyone at the VHA will be coming after you. You two aren't welcome back. You're at the top of the blacklist. ” Levi said walking closer to the boys patted me on my shoulder. “Nice job brat you just got your friends here killed.”

Before I or Levi could react Levi was flying backwards as Akio kicked him with the utmost force. Yua and I jumped both our eyes turning white in shock.

It didn’t stop their as Riyoshi grabbed Akio by the back of his collar pulling him back so he could face him. “Seriously Akio?”

“I swear my body moved on it’s own.” Akio explained.

Suddenly 6 more guys showed up and we were surrounded but luckily we knew how to fight. Yua and I got into defensive positions back to back.

Riyoshi Pov

“Well since we were considered traders anyway might as well help them fight. But I will deal with you later.” I said to Akio, giving him the deadliest glare I had. It worked. He looked like he saw a ghost. Since the VHA turned on us we would have to run. Getting caught and brought back to Amelia would be worse than being on the blacklist. Amelia kept a list of people that have wronged her or weren’t loyal to the VHA. If you were to get caught after being blacklisted then she would make your life hell. Because of an incident that happened before Amelia started putting kill chips in us so that way if someone turned on the VHA the other members would kill that person on sight.

I didn’t have my wooden bullets but I had regular one’s and they definitely would work on halflings. Quickly loading my gun I saw Akio pull out his sword and I knew he was serious about this girl right then and there.

“Go do your thing i’ll cover for you.” I told Akio and he took off slicing two of the guys in seconds. He didn’t need my help but I heard a squeal. It was Yua turning my attention to her. She was ok but Hikari was struggling and her goal was to protect her sister. One of the boys came charging at them. Hikari waved her hands in front of her causing the boy to turn into ice. He stood there frozen until Yua ran up to him punching him causing his body to shatter into pieces. While Akio went for Levi I ended up doing three headshots killing them instantly since they weren't worth my energy.

“Aghhhh.” I looked up to see Levi running for his life and Akio chasing him with his sword like a mad man.

“Akio!” he stopped and looked at me confused “Leave him be. Let's go. More members will be here any second!” I then looked towards the girls who were standing around catching their breath.“ You too since you're the ones who got us in this mess.” I walked away Akio right behind me. The girls are reluctant but they followed nonetheless.

“This is Bullshit.” I said to myself as I tried to think of my next step on how to approach this crazy ass situation.

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yuvon-writes-letters · 3 years

Note

Hey guys,

Yu, Rai and both Jakes.

Actually..If I talk about my feelings I'm pretty well. Don't tell Jake I said that, but I couldn't be happier about our situation. I mean, we can talk again. Without me being kidnapped and finding a weird Tumblr profile of him. (Which we think was a set up by one of the entities of my world since he obviously doesn't have one. Jake thinks it was goldies doing, I on the other hand don't believe that. Don't ask me why, but it feels like goldie wouldn't do that. And it didn't help me either but only made problems. I was distracted because I was writing the profile (you read it, right Yu? I don't know about the others) and angry. Like, really angry.)

Putting that aside, Jake called me, like he promised :) And it was the longest phone call I had for some time. Most of the time I talked and he didn't get distracted once, just listened to me and everything that happened. And then he started cursing, which is kind of understandable. He apologised for being into stasis. And for this other version from before the 'time setting back' thing. Because I don't find a name I'll call it TSB from now on.

The only problem I have now is going to work, I guess I'll take me some vacation...But at least I'm not as scared of the raven-ass anymore. I mean, I still am, but in the moment I know his steps. And I am not alone.

Jake, I intentionally write the next part in red, please don't read it. That's for Yu.

I know you think that Jake sees you as a threat. If it still is like you wrote in the letter. Jake knows that, too and he doesn't like it. You know him better than I do, of course, but without saying too much...I think it's quite the opposite. Talk to him about that. Even though it's probably not the best circumstances I think he enjoys being with you :)

The next part, purple (damn, I need more coloured pens), is for you Jake.

You already told me that you don't like that Yu thinks you see her as a threat. I only have to say one thing, if it still is like that, talk to her about it. Earlier than later.

The new thoughts about the blood ritual are really interesting. But please don't put yourself in this danger (or not, but I think it's understandable what I mean?) if it isn't necessary. But I also agree with Rai, I thought the same thing for a while. That you desired having someone, Jake, with you. It sounds plausible.

What more was there...Wait, let me reread the letters.

Oh yeah, Rai! One, till now my crow crew seems to still be in stasis (Jake realised that now, too) and two..Please try to take care of your health, yeah? I'm worried for you.

Lis🐾🔥

Ps. Damn...I'm writing this exactly when I wanted to leave the house (I mean, I sadly cannot hide my face forever).

Two new things...I got a message. I mean, it was a threat (because I am the obviously the bad girl that kidnapped Hannah), but I don't care. Maybe that means the stasis is slowly dissolving!

But number 2...I didn't get the vacation. My boss called me almost immediatly. "Under no circumstances [a word is blacked out] Liska. We have July and Alice, Tim and Jenny all want to take free time, too. You are one of our best workers and we can't afford you leaving now. You have no children so you have to wait. Also Max told me that you don't have any problems in family."

So long story short: He wants me to be there tomorrow. Argh, if he would pay me like he's talking that would awesome. And I'll kill Max when I see him next time. (My cousin that thought it was fun to try and steal my work so we both got the rank of 'one of the best workers'. The only problem: Max' title is official. -.- Overall, I'm so much more annoyed than some time earlier. Maybe I should ask Jake for help

Lis,

Okay, the Crow Crew drama is fading a bit, so I'll answer this now. Sorry if I seem disjointed at all, I'm probably going to be going back and forth from conversations to this letter a lot. I can't afford to have them all think I'm compromised, I need to focus on getting out of here and I don't want to deal with their pressure on top of everything else.

Yeah, I don't think the Tumblr profile was Goldie either. Goldie seems to try to be very much a "hands off" sort of entity, like my own. The Tumblr profile thing seems a little out of character for at least my Jake. At least, publicly answering your submission certainly was, though he may have panicked since you sent it in on anon and answered publicly without really thinking about it. I guess I could see him having a Tumblr profile for purposes of following people on social media and watching what they post, though. And then deciding he likes the media and posting a little bit of impersonal things that can't lead back to him. Probably my Jake will say something about that when I hand this letter over to him, stay tuned.

Yeah, I at least read some of the things you sent that profile, and I showed what I had to my Jake too. I'm not sure if I read all of it, since it was a bunch of printed-out screenshots in an envelope, but I read the ask where you told him you hated him (fair at that point but ouch that's got to have hurt) up to when you said you'd found Hannah. After that you sent me your letter telling me time had turned back and the Tumblr screenshots ended.

I'm glad you and Jake managed to talk things out. I was sort of worried about how he'd react, but it sounds like he took it pretty well, considering. I'm... not exactly sure he should be apologizing for the stasis, though. Or the TSB!Jake. Maybe especially not the TSB!Jake. Jakes seem to be oddly different from timeline to timeline, just based on what I've seen of them. TSB has been one of the most different so far.

Oh. One thing I should mention that you might not have seen from the profile: The MWAF used your phone to mock the TSB account, and mentioned that TSB wasn't the only person who could hack, and the MWAF blocked TSB from finding your location. Might want to warn your Jake about that.

A vacation sounds like a good idea :/ It's really hard to go back to normal life right after tragedies or trauma. It feels like the world keeps moving on and you're still stuck in place, and you just want to scream at them that they need to slow down, can't they see that the world is

Good. I'm glad you don't feel alone. It's easier to deal with this stuff when you're with someone else, even if it's not physically.

(Jake, my Jake I mean, if you're reading over my parts of these letters skip to the ||| now please.) I'm not saying he doesn't also enjoy my company. I can tell he does. That doesn't make me not a threat. Like how early on I suspected Thomas, but still thought he was a nice guy and enjoyed talking to him. (Obviously I don't suspect him any more XD ) Still, if you think I should talk with him about it, I'll try to find a tactful way to bring it up.

Yes, because obviously tact is my greatest strength. Sigh.

Like I said to Rai, the underlying desire thing is definitely possible. That'd either mean I'm more obvious about how I feel for Jake than I think I am (very possible, I'm not great at hiding how I feel in person) or the entity has some level of telepathy/mind reading. The reason is that chessboard. Since Jake likes chess, it's clear at least to me the entity expected him to come here at some point. I THINK, if the underlying desire thing is true, I can manipulate myself into wanting specific things by doing things like writing it over and over and repeating it out loud when doing the ritual, but I'm not sure.

|||

It's probably good that your Crow Crew is in stasis, like how it's objectively probably good my outside life is going on without me. Less drama, less pressure.

Huh. The harassment is definitely a promising sign. Maybe you should try contacting Darkness again, same way as I suggested near the beginning? That feels so long ago, but it really can't have been much more than a week, can it?

You... didn't get the vacation. Fucking hell. Is there ANY way you can convince your boss? You really should have time off. Maybe your Jake can help you come up with ideas.

Or at least maybe he can come up with a way to have your boss give you a bonus for your trouble -_-

Oh shit Cleo's interrogating me I'm gonna hand this to Jake now

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

I agree with Yuvon: "TSB" acts markedly different from myself. There would be no benefit from me promising to be there to find you in the moment, and indeed I would have been falling for a very transparent trap. Even in my possible state of panic, I cannot see myself being there physically, much less revealing myself physically to authorities in the process, unless I was playing the role of bait in a counter-trap. While it is plausible that this was TSB's plan, TSB gave no indication that Yuvon or I could tell that this was the case. Of course, I would have done my best to be there physically in the aftermath of the kidnapping, but not in the moment.

I also agree that the Tumblr profile seems to be out of character for both myself and for "Goldie", though I hesitate to judge TSB's actions by what I myself would do. I seem to vary in surprising ways across universes and even from timeline to timeline, based solely on your current Jake's reactions thus far. I do actually own a Tumblr profile for the exclusive purpose of following social medias I wish to track, but I used a random username generator website for the username and not my own name, and I certainly never posted anything.

The news about the MWAF being able to hack is new to me; I must have missed that the first time I read through the screenshots. That is quite troubling. I suppose I will need to be more careful in future.

I am sincerely sorry your request for a vacation was rejected. I do not know how much you intend to separate your personal life and the Duskwood case, but if your stasis is truly wavering, you may be able to reveal some measure of the danger you are in to convince him to let you flee the area for a small while. Especially since you mentioned in your Tumblr post that you saw a raven note in your wor

Oh.

You need to leave that place. Now. Do not inform your employer of the danger you are in, reveal nothing to him or to anyone, take unpaid time off if you need to. Get your cousin and anyone else you care overly much about out of there too. Invalidate any information you can your employer or coworkers knows about you. Do not tell the truth to anyone, even your cousin. Make up any excuses you need to, ask your Jake for help with ideas if you need to. You may also wish to check that the coworkers your boss listed who are going on vacation are ACTUALLY going on vacation.

This is a priority, Liska. You need to tell your Jake all of this too, especially the part with the note in your workplace. You need to get out of there.

Good luck.

—Jake & Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis

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bumbershots · 3 years

Text

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FOUR: SILENCE COMES AND GOES

Author’s note: Hello! We continue with this, I would like to thank everyone once again for all the likes and reblogs the story has gotten so far, couldn’t be happier! Enjoy (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.9K **

It is possible that Harry is ignoring the big elephant in the room, as he spreads some jam in his crumpet, well aware of Fernando and Jack exchanging knowing looks. He takes a bite of the savoury treat and hopes none of them dare to confront him, at the same time he wants to be questioned about why he hasn't called Alma yet.

Harry spent the last two weeks grumpy and frustrated.

He's called his therapist way too many times. He has no idea where he went wrong in his healing process. They were back to square one, whispered his tired heart.

Jack is surprised too, his friend got on so well with Alma at the party and apparently even went the extra mile asking for her number then he spent the following fourteen days acting as if she didn’t exist. Didn't even text her like Gemma suggested. He sips his coffee and sighs for the millionth time that day.

The musician is infuriated at himself and desperate that he wants to have Fernando demand an explanation for his behaviour towards his sister. Harry's not a confrontational guy, but he's going mad. Might be losing it. He wanted to scream at the two men before him that he did plan on calling Alma, but then he got so sad. Now he's afraid it's too late.

"Do you want another one?" Fernando holds the plate with crumpets in front of Harry who takes one more and thanks him before grabbing the jam. "Do you reckon you'll be man enough to call my sister within the next couple of days?" Harry chokes on his food while Jack's laughter booms through their home.

Nobody has ever called him out like that. Harry's still unsure whether to be grateful or scared. Maybe a bit of both he thinks after composing himself again from the fit of coughs, he knows Fernando is still waiting for an answer.

"Is she upset about it?" A hint of relief and pride linger on Harry's voice. Jack shakes his head, knowing that he's avoiding the question. Something he's very good at.

"That's not what I asked." Fernando's clipped tone leaves no room for the musician to beat around the bush anymore.

"I was really nervous about calling her, kept putting it off until days turned into weeks... I'm not sure how to go about it," he plays with his rings and looks away from the inquisitive gaze of his companions.

"How did you get Taylor to go out with you?"

"What?" Harry and Jack ask at the same time.

"You must've asked her I guess," Fernando shrugs. "What is so scary about Alma that puts you off? Are you interested in just a shag and you're worried she'll decline or tell the media about it?" Harry is shaking his head vigorously and the dark haired architect leans a bit closer towards him, "you're so full of sh-”

"Alright let's take a break," Jack's soothing tone brings his house mate back from the rage path he was following. But Harry knew that he was right.

It had been a year already, he moved to a new house, one where his ex never set foot into and still her ghost was everywhere. He has this crazy need to destroy everything that can relate to her. Her favourite cardigan is kept away in a box full of Polaroids and books that are all her.

The real reason why he didn't dare to call Alma is because whatever he felt at the beginning of his previous relationship, or any other one, was at least ten times less intense, than what he was feeling now. Seeing the menace before them, his heart and mind decided to leave him courage-less towards the situation. It's less painful to think what could've been than to know it and see it being taken away from you. Again.

But he deserves to be happy, that's what Gemma reminded him the other day.

"I gotta go," Fernando announces before rising from his seat, walking inside the house and upstairs to his room. Jack tries to tidy up the table a bit, not daring to look at his apparently mute friend. When Fernando comes back down he steps outside to the patio where they had brunch, one last glance to a very ashamed Harry and he sighs. "Brigit's Bakery Classic Afternoon Tea Bus. Alma’s been dying to get tickets but never has the time to actually book it," he explains adjusting his jacket's collar. "It's not too late." With that he turns on his heel and leaves the house.

Harry takes their mugs and places them in the sink, he notices Jack is going around the kitchen putting away the butter and milk in the fridge.

"What are you waiting for Romeo?" The blue eyed man asks, stopping in front of a blushing Harry.

They're both quiet for a minute. Harry's heart is racing and can feel his hands get clammy. He hasn't felt someone's faith in a long time, and he's not sure if he's happy or pressured that Fernando and Jack are pushing him to call Alma, he doesn’t even know if she will give him a chance. Harry's wishing to be the kind of guy to take out his mobile and make the call, maybe even crack a witty joke that will have Alma laughing in that loud way he remembers and not be awkward with asking her out on a date. As if he wasn't completely mortified by being rejected.

Harry was sure he would ruin it, not just the call but the date and everything else that was actually going to happen between them without even trying first.

"Hello?" She answers after the third ring, confused at the unknown number calling her.

"Yeah it's me," Harry nods to Jack who urges him to finish whatever sentence he's trying to form, "I believe I owe you some coffee."

"Harry?" Alma tries to fight back a laugh. A wide smile splitting her face after recognising who is the mystery caller.

"Yes! Sorry I forgot you didn't have my number." Jack is red with second hand embarrassment for his friend and decides to start the dishwasher just to keep his eyes from the train wreck happening in his kitchen. "I'm sorry for not calling sooner."

"You're calling now, 's all that matters... I'd love to get that coffee. Next Thursday works for you?" He nods feverishly and remembers he's on the phone.

"Of course, I'll pick you up at five if that's alright."

"Make it half past five please, that's when my shift ends. I'll text you the address." She throws the latter smoothly as an excuse to initiate conversation until they meet again and Harry is oblivious about it.

"Sure great, perfect I'm... really looking forward to seeing you," he plays with the tea towel on the counter, his back turned to Jack, a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he hears the coy chuckle his confession got out of her. "Have a good day, see you later."

"See you later, Harry" Alma's goodbye is full of hope and endearment, just like the one he got before she walked away from him that morning after Freddie’s birthday party.

After ending the call, he mentally scolds himself for dreading it so much. It went so much better than expected, even got a laugh out of her. Perhaps Harry needed to stop making decisions based upon his fears and more taking in consideration the other person. He always thought he knew best, it's what he's been told for so many years and although he needs to be making big choices most of the time, perhaps now he could share that responsibility. Felt dead nice for a change.

"That wasn't so bad." He admits to Jack before drying the now clean dishes with a towel.

"I'm proud of you, now tell me, where are you guys going for that coffee?" Jack's eyes are full of curiosity and excitement, it's impossible for Harry not to feel a chill go down his spine at the prospect of planning the date. He thinks about what Fernando suggested, but it would be too obvious that it wasn't his idea entirely.

Alma deserves something exclusively planned by him.

"Don't know yet, perhaps somewhere nice and quiet" he ponders and his friend agrees.

Last time Harry had a proper first date was about two years ago or so. He cooked aubergine parmigiana following Jamie Oliver's recipe and baked some biscuits for dessert that he enjoyed with his companion overlooking the Pacific Ocean from his home's balcony. Back then it seemed to be the right choice to keep it low-key, a simple dinner at his, no risk at all to be bothered or watched. But Harry knew that at some point it got old, being overly discreet was easily mistaken for being ashamed of the relationship. That kind of thing can do a lot to someone's confidence, little by little until it's all too much to bear.

If he could only learn not to care about the world's prying eyes.

Harry doesn't want to drag anyone into the scrutiny of the media until he knows it's an incorruptible bond. The inevitable thought of forever, something he believes might not exist for him, at times. He did think Taylor was it, even Kendall for a while, which is why he dated more publicly back then, until she came along and the love Harry felt was so grand it made him overly protective of them. Countless times he tried to explain that this was the first time something was working in spite of all the circumstances that came with his life and he was trying to cherish it, keep it to himself. Nurture it until it was as tough as old boots.

That night was spent writing down ideas for that first date. Number one was The river café, near Putney Bridge, a place free of paparazzi. Number two, Rail house café, lovely spot to share dinner. Number three The sanctuary café, located in a beautiful building with a quirky environment. Number four and his personal favourite Lola's bakery, their service was so warm and intimate, he remembers the cinnamon Chelsea bun and his mouth waters instantly. So, drawing a big circle around the fourth option he smiles before going to bed that night.

Saturday morning finds Harry at his grandparents’ old home, carrying a bag full of ingredients for a vegetarian lasagna he is planning to cook for his grandfather and his mum. He immediately banishes Anne from helping in the kitchen. She observed him follow the recipe, cooking for no longer than ten minutes the garlic, thyme and aubergine, and then crumble over the chilli carefully. He lets her grate the Parmesan when the sauce isn’t thickening and reducing like it was supposed to. With a bump of her hip, she nodded towards a couple of tomatoes, Harry smiled before tipping them in, breaking them with a spoon and five minutes later, the sauce was ready.

His mother is a marvellous woman, like the good son he is, Harry doesn't want to make her sad, ever. The last time he visited her, recently broken hearted, they spent it baking, cooking, eating sweets and drinking hot chocolate at the rear terrace. Once he had enough of moping around, he decided to make it up to her and create good memories from that visit. They explored the local parklands as if it was the first time, shared ice cream, got tipsy on cheap red wine and chatted from dusk till dawn.

A few hours later, after eating the delicious meal and tidying up the kitchen afterwards, Harry watches his mum talking to his grandad, holding his shaky hand in hers and caressing it in a soothing way. The elder man’s Parkinson is getting worse with time, he feels so useless, specially because it affects his favourite people. He wants to know what his mother is thinking when she joins him back in the kitchen. There is some anguish dancing in her kind eyes, but Harry knows better than to push her to share something she is not ready to.

"I have a date next Thursday," he chokes out, in hopes of distracting her, and it works. Anne's head whips towards her youngest child, evidently shocked and yet proud. It's been years since Harry shared that kind of information with her.

"A proper date?"

"Yes," he wants to add how nervous it makes him. "I dunno how serious it'll get... just met her once, properly I mean, we saw each other on the tube's carriage three times prior to it. Coincidentally of course, Gem said it is something straight out of a film."

"Who is she?" His mother is giving him that look, the one that says how giddy she is to know absolutely everything about the person that got her son so skittish, that he started to rearrange the containing of the cupboards entirely.

"Her name is Alma," he doesn't know where to start, if he spills all the ways in which he thinks she is wonderful, they'll end up pulling an all-nighter.

"And she's a...?"

"Cashier during the week, Spanish teacher on the weekends and occasional interviewer for her Youtube channel." Anne raises her eyebrows, impressed and wondering why such a busy girl agreed to go on a date. Must like him a lot of course, she thinks watching her son pour hot water on a mug, and dunking a tea bag in it afterwards.

"Where did you meet her if not on the tube?'' She is curious and weary. This wouldn't be the first time her youngest spawn overlooked certain things from strangers. Very little things in Harry's life were coincidences nowadays.

"Remember Jack Robinson?" his mum nodded, how could she forget the cheeky chap that helped Harry escape almost every night from his dad's house in the summer, just to go skate in Southbank's center until midnight. Anne admitted to not liking the bloke for a while, but gave him another chance after watching him grow into a responsible adult. "He's in charge of my home renovation, extension whatever it is called. Invited me to Freddie's birthday party and she was there." The dreamy look on his eyes when reminiscing the moment brought out a wide smile on his mum's face followed by her loud laughter.

"Oh Harry, you've got that look." it was the truth. He looked completely gobsmacked by his mother's reaction, but he couldn’t deny the peace he felt when knowing that she was already fond of the girl that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

"It’s too soon to tell!” He doesn’t want to dive into it, not yet.

"How did you really meet? I want all the details." Anne asked, taking a seat at the coffee table and Harry told her everything.

From the first glance he stole her way to the last phone call he had yesterday at Jack and Fernando's house, his hands flew several times to tussle his hair and the dimple on his left cheek was exquisite, when telling his mother, how she asked him to dance with her. He spared no detail, from her intoxicating Moschino perfume to her raspy accented voice. By the time he finished, his mum's mug was empty but her heart was full. For so long she wondered if she would ever witness the beauty of Harry in love again and enjoy first-hand the way he spoke about that person in the sweetest manner, the high-pitched tone of his voice when finally admitting how nervous he actually was about this first date.

"Right, well in that case, stop thinking about how everything is going to go wrong." Easier said than done, Harry thinks but nods. "I'm sure whatever you planned will sweep her off her feet." Anne knew how much of a romantic her boy was, he went all out in that department. His best quality and Achilles heel.

"If the cupcakes from that place don't... I could literally do it." Harry plucks a banana from the fruit bowl before them and narrows his eyes when his mum rolls her eyes at him playfully.

His mother's reassurance made him feel less hopeless, the next day when they went to Sheffield's city center, she even picked out a couple of new mugs. 'Just in case we have new visitors at home.' Harry groaned but failed to hide the dreamy look in his eyes, he even crossed his fingers behind his back as he watched her pay for the cups. The thought of Alma meeting his mother in the near future —and the rest of his loved ones— excited him to an unfamiliar degree, like the first time he saw the seaside with his own eyes at a very young age, like that time he sang in front of a considerable amount of people, like a warm hug of his late grandmother. The idea that she may like him enough to agree to a second date is stuck on his brain, despite that they haven't even survived the first one.

Anne saw him enjoy himself the rest of that afternoon and the next morning before he had to go back to London. She sighed and watched him drive away, standing in her front door for a few more minutes, rejoicing on the memory of Harry's toothy grin. Usually she was careful and waiting for the other shoe to drop, but not this time. There was a bit of certainty in the unfamiliar situation, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, she decided to patiently wait and see. She hummed a familiar tune while putting away the new additions to her crockery. The same song her son decided to play on his journey back home.

Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Qué será, será.

///

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///

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malcyon · 4 years

Text

Leap, Fall, Fly

Summary: He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?”

Tim looks at him, amused.“Dude, I have, like, four.”

*****

Kon figures some stuff out. Tim helps.

Read on AO3

___________________________________________

Kon kinda wishes he hadn’t come to Gotham tonight.

The pavement below shines with reflected street light thanks to the freezing rain, because the weather in this city sucks. And there’s this creepy chill in the air that's unique only to Gotham that’s been making him shiver for the past hour. But Tim had called, asking if he wanted to patrol, and there was no way in hell Kon was turning that down or leaving halfway through the night.

Even if he can’t feel his feet anymore.

He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the cold water that runs down his neck, and tries very hard not to look over at where his best friend is crouching on the edge of the building they’re staking out on. He seems to be trying to not look at Tim a lot these days. Trying to focus on anything else.

A few blocks away, a lady is yelling at her cat for knocking over a houseplant.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Tim roll his shoulders back smoothly.

Kon huffs out a frustrated puff of air and examines a trash can in the alley below. Part of him feels like he should say something, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't know what to say to Tim most of the time these days.

Despite that, he’s been stealing moments with the other boy outside of the team whenever he could since he’d gotten back from being dead, or comatose, or whatever it was he had been. What Kon hadn’t been, was there to see the results of his death (and Stephanie's, and Bart's, and Bruce's, and Tim's dad's, and so, so many more) on his best friend. Hadn’t been there to see Tim fall apart and then forge himself into something stronger than what he’d been as Robin.

A rat skitters over the garbage lid. He watches it blankly.

He knows that Tim had shattered while he was dead, had put himself back together piece by piece until he was almost whole again. And even now he acts fine, enough so that no one gets too close to see where he's falling apart at the edges.

But sometimes Kon will catch Tim staring at him like he’s about to disappear. Will catch the too fast, scared heartbeat of his best friend.

And it makes Kon want to scream or punch something, blame someone for not helping—It makes him want to hold onto Tim and tell him he’s not going away ever, ever again; because who else is gonna stay up with him to binge-watch Wendy movies and eat junk food until two in the morning? Hell, they don’t even have to do that; Kon would be down with anything that would get rid of the sad look in Tim’s eyes.

And this isn’t even counting all the bullshit with the assassins and Bruce dying and coming back and how strained things still are between Tim and Dick and how there’s a new Robin along with a new Superboy and—

Kon glares at the brick wall across the alley. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t care that Jon had donned the costume. Yeah, his little brother has done more than earned it, but it hurts knowing that he’d missed that too.

Plus now he has to come up with a new hero name.

He shivers again and scuffs his foot against the ground. Carefully, he glances over at Tim, whose masked eyes are still examining the dark corners below their building. Kon sorta hopes that something happens so he could at least move around a bit.

He wonders if that’s unethical then decides that he’s too cold to do any further introspection about himself.

Kon whines instead, “Hey, Red Robin.”

There’s no answer from the other boy—not even a twitch.

“Red. Robbie. Rob. R—”

Tim lets out a long sigh and Kon grins at him. “What?”

“I’m bored.”

“And?”

“And I’m cold.”

“And?”

“And I’m hungry, dude. I want some of Agent A’s cookies.”

Tim looks over at him, and Kon floats a few inches off the ground, giving his best puppy-dog eyes. He’s pretty sure Tim raises an eyebrow under the mask, but Kon tilts his head anyway, mimicking the face Jon gives Lois when he has to go to bed but the movie will be done in ten minutes, come on, pleeeeease.

Tim sighs again, in either amusement or exasperation Kon’s not sure. But he does stand up, so Kon gives himself a mental high five.

“Not like anything’s going on anyway.”

Kon doesn’t even bother to hide his beaming smile as he asks, “Fly back?”

Tim shrugs in agreement and jumps down from his brooding perch, steps light on the rooftop. Kon lowers himself to the ground, carefully picks up the other boy, and is suddenly very much aware of how Tim smells like rain and some sort of really nice body wash. He probably takes off a little too quickly, but he blames it on wanting to get out of the cold.

Tim makes a startled noise and throws an arm around Kon’s shoulders, and Kon curses at himself briefly before wrapping Tim up in his TTK, stabilizing him. The other boy relaxes but doesn’t seem to find it necessary to remove his grip, and Kon decides that focusing on flying is a really great idea. At the very least, it’s better than running into a street lamp.

He’s been in Gotham enough now to know how to get to the Manor from anywhere in the city, and the lights blur together as he goes faster and faster, raindrops splashing against his face.

To be honest, Kon has no idea if he's even allowed to be in the Bat's territory; he certainly wasn't given an invitation. But Tim's been dragging him here more and more lately, and since he hasn't been stabbed with a kryptonite batarang yet, Kon's not going to ask any questions. Maybe Tim had just worn Bruce down, or maybe Dick had changed the man's mind. Whatever it was, Kon got to hang out more with Tim and that’s what mattered.

Tim's laugh draws him out of his head, the sound vibrating through Kon’s chest and he lets out a whoop as they dodge buildings all the way to the Manor.

The rain has thoroughly soaked both of them by the time they enter the tunneled entrance to the Cave, but Kon can’t find it in him to care as he lands, still snickering, on the floor. Tim is grinning wildly as he steps out of Kon’s arms and takes off the Red Robin mask, his wet hair dripping down into his face until he runs a gauntleted hand through it. It sticks up in a bunch of spikes and Kon bursts into laughter.

Tim scowls at him and shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere and making it even worse.

Kon bites his lip, barely toning down his sniggers, and steps forward. “Dude, stop; that’s not helping.” Tim glares. Kon rolls his eyes and, before he lets himself think about it too much, drags his hands through Tim’s hair, managing to calm it down enough to look presentable.

Tim’s skin is warmer than he thought it’d be, and his hair is thick with water and getting long. Kon likes it; his friend looks older, different in a way that makes Kon wanna stare at him. He wonders if anyone else notices like Kon does. Girls on the street certainly do whenever they go out as civilians, their stares catching on Tim's form, his sharp eyes. The thought makes his stomach sour.

Tim blinks, surprised with the contact maybe, but only gives Kon a quiet grin and doesn’t say anything.

Kon wants to beat his forehead against a wall.

The other boy unexpectedly takes a step back and surveys him with narrowed eyes. “You’re soaked.”

“So are you,” he points out, but Tim waves the observation aside.

“Yeah, but I’m taking this off—” Part of Kon’s brain is suddenly filled with some very exciting images—“and changing into something else. But you don’t really have any extra clothes.”

Kon tries to ignore the pictures in his head, but the tips of his ears still feel hot when he manages, “Am I staying the night?”

The atmosphere changes and Kon suddenly feels like he’s blundering through something that should be handled by someone who understands their own feelings. Tim opens his mouth, then pauses before continuing, “You don’t have to, I mean, if you have things you need to do then you should go, but the storm is gonna get really bad so—”

“No!” Kon definitely did not yelp. He clears his throat. “No, I’ll call Ma, but I should be in the clear. It’s a Friday so, you know, I can do the important chores later this weekend.”

Tim slowly nods. “Yeah, yeah, tell her I said hi. I’m going to get out of this suit; I’ll be right back.”

Kon isn't sure if he imagines the sudden stiffness to Tim’s shoulders as he walks away to some other part of the cave to change or not. He watches for a second, wanting to say something else even if he doesn't know what. But he only pulls out his burner phone and taps out Ma’s number, pointedly ignoring the unexpected awkwardness in the air. She picks up by the second ring.

“Hello?” There’s the sound of crickets and Krypto’s barking behind her voice, and Kon smiles a little bit for no particular reason.

“Hey, Ma. There’s a storm passing through Gotham, so it’s cool if I stay the night at the Manor, right?”

“Of course, Conner. I’m guessing that you’re with Tim?”

“Yeah, he says ‘Hi’ by the way. I promise I’ll try to go to sleep at a decent time tonight.”

She hums at him over the phone, amused. “I’m sure you will.” Kon hears her take in a breath, then hesitate.

“Ma?”

“How . . . are things with Tim?”

He straightens up even though she can’t see him.

“I—What?”

“How is he?”

“Uh, he’s okay. Busy. I think he’s running himself a little ragged.”

“I’m not surprised. You'll need to bring him over for dinner.”

“For dinner?” Kon's pretty sure he's missing something that should be obvious.

“The last time he came over feels like ages ago, and things between you two have seemed rather . . . tense.”

“What—How?”

She hesitates again. “It just feels like you both have something to say to each other.”

His heart stumbles, breath catching in his throat.

"I don't—"

"I've seen the way you look at him, dear."

His brain scratches to a stop.

She continues thoughtfully, "You're always talking about him, you did even while you were dating that Cassie girl. And I know how much time you've been spending with him lately, with the team and all." She's quiet for a moment. "You're sweet on him, aren't you?"

The question hangs in the air, and Kon struggles to breathe.

"I . . . “ He swallows weakly. “Maybe. Just a little. You know.”

”Really? I was so sure you two—"

"We're not together!" The words come out strangled as his ears burn from the teasing in her tone. Ma sighs over the phone.

"Well, I know that. If you were you'd have brought him over for dinner."

Oh.

He licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "You think I should . . . "

"Talk to him? Yes, I think you should."

"But what if he doesn't—"

"He does. Trust me, dear, he does." Kon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He thinks of the way Tim’s hair felt against his hands and the haunted look in his eyes that sometimes appears when nobody is paying attention. Ma continues softly, “He’s a good boy and I know what he means to you, Conner. Talk to him.”

He nods at the ground. “Yeah . . . Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and tell Alfred I want him to send me his recipe for snickerdoodles, and in return, I’ll finally give him my instructions for blueberry pie.”

A weak laugh comes out of his chest. “Okay, Ma.”

“Don’t stay up all night,” she chuckles and then says gently, "I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hangs up.

He puts his phone away and stares at the chittering bats on the ceiling high above.

Kon knows that he and Tim have been dancing around having a real talk for months. And it's weird because they used to be able to say anything to each other. But now it’s like they’re walking on a tightrope, carefully balancing so they don’t fall into a chasm of complicated feelings beneath them.

The truth is that Tim and Kon don’t click the way they had before. Like some piece of their puzzle has been flipped, and an entirely new picture created. And Kon has no idea what to do about it. 'Cause they’ve always been close. Before Kon had died, they’d been the best of friends, trusted one another with their secrets, their goddamn lives. Tim had covered his back and he had covered Tim’s. Even when the team was together, they were the ones who had stuck to each other’s sides like glue.

But then Kon had gone and gotten himself killed.

He knows that after he died the team had lost it. Cassie had joined a cult, Bart had died, and Tim had—

Kon’s throat suddenly feels way too tight.

He looks down at the ground.

But then Kon came back. And, yeah, they’re still best friends, but now there’s something else there. Something that both of them have been dutifully ignoring for months now and that Kon isn’t too keen on bringing up, messing with their delicate balance.

Though if Ma had noticed the tension between them . . . They really had to talk.

“Just to let you know, the house is gonna be basically empty tonight, it’s only us, Alfred, and Damian.” Tim’s voice comes from behind him, and Kon nearly jumps. He spins around to see his friend in some old work out clothes, rubbing his head on a towel.

Kon stares at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that your entire family all had things to do tonight except for the Bat Brat?” Tim grins at him from underneath the towel and something in Kon’s chest grows warm.

“Yeah, Dick’s in Bludhaven, Jason’s blowing some buildings up, the girls decided to go on a weekend trip to Japan, and Bruce is in Italy for sudden business stuff.”

“And the reason Damian hasn’t included himself in any of these activities is?”

“He’s sick.”

Kon nearly snickers.

“You’re shitting me. There’s no way he’d let getting sick stop him from doing any of that.”

Tim laughs and shakes his head. “Both Bruce and Dick threatened him with being benched if he went anywhere this weekend.”

Kon whistles. Direct orders from the Bat weren’t to be taken lightly. “I’m guessing that went well.”

Tim shrugs and puts the towel around his neck. “Not as bad as you would think. I mean, he was definitely in a pissy mood, but I think Jon is rubbing off on him. There wasn’t as much yelling as there could have been. But he was also totally out of it, so I’m giving credit to his cold and not development of character.” Tim throws the towel on a nearby table and starts walking up the stairs to go into the house, Kon floating after him.

Tim leads him through several hallways filled with family pictures that Kon knows his friend probably took when none of his said family was paying attention. One snags his eye and he pauses to get a better look. It's of Tim and Cassandra throwing pillows at each other inside one of the Manor’s many guest rooms. Whoever took the photo had good timing; they had caught Tim mid-laugh, eyes bright as they watched Cass bring a pillow down on his head.

Kon examines it for a second longer before the sound of Tim’s footsteps brings him back to the present.

He doesn’t look at any more pictures.

The kitchen is one of Kon’s favorite places in the house; it’s cozy despite its size, painted with pale yellows and creamy whites, and usually contains some kind of treat Alfred's whipped up. He hovers in the doorway, breathing in the warmth as Tim opens up one of the many cupboards and grabs a tin of what Kon hopes has cookies in it. He resists the urge to do a mid-air flip when he’s proven correct and Tim hands him the container while he starts to make tea.

The awkwardness from earlier has transformed into something comfortable and familiar, and Kon floats cross-legged and watches as Tim pours water into a pot and sets it to boil.

He takes a sweet from the tin and bites into it, the cookie melting on his tongue. He moans quietly because food and glances back up at his friend. Tim is facing the stove, shoulders suddenly rigid and Kon's eyes snag on the bright pink color his ears are turning.

Then he notices that Tim didn’t manage to dry his hair all the way, and Kon watches as a drop of water rolls down the back of his neck.

He swallows his cookie.

“Hey, so, I—I need some advice.” Kon isn't sure what to do with his hands, and he ends up lightly tapping the box with his fingers. Tim turns around, his brow furrowed in slight concern, the pink quickly fading from his ears.

“With what?”

Kon stares at the granite island below where he’s floating. He brings himself down until he sits on it with his legs hanging over the side, towards Tim but not quite looking him in the eyes. “I need to come up with a new hero identity.”

Tim’s gaze widens a tiny bit with realization before a smirk spreads on his face. “Does this mean a new outfit? Because you need a new outfit.”

Kon drops his mouth open, only to shut it and scowl. “What’s wrong with this?” He gestures to his damp t-shirt and jeans.

Tim gives him a look.

“Do you know how many shirts you go through?”

“They’re easily replaceable!”

“So many. I can’t begin to tell you how many shirts I’ve seen you lose on missions. And in the tower. And on the farm. And—why do you even wear them at this point?”

Kon huffs and glares at him. “At least help me come up with a new name.”

There’s the sound of dog nails on wood and a subdued sneeze, and Tim’s gaze locks on something behind him. Kon twists around and Damian meets his stare coolly, even though Kon can see the circles under the kid’s eyes and his raw nose. Shit.

“A new name for exactly what, clone?”

Tim sighs and goes to grab another mug as Titus weaves around his legs. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Damian scrunches his nose with distaste. “I’ve been in bed all day, Drake.”

“The more you rest up, the sooner you get back to patrolling with Superboy,” Kon points out and Damian shoots him a half-hearted glower. Since becoming friends with Jon and more tolerant of Tim, Damian had grown used to Kon’s presence and quips. Kon's pretty sure that Damian isn't pleased about this at all.

“Is that what you’re doing? Finally moving on from Superboy and creating a new identity?” Damian plops down on one of the counter’s stools and sniffles. Kon offers him the tin of sweets. The kid sighs and takes it without a snarky comment.

No wonder Bruce had made him stay home.

“Yeah, trying to at least.”

Tim hums in thought, “You going to keep ‘Super’ in the name, or not?”

“It would be moronic if you didn’t,” Damian states, but doesn’t look up from where he’s feeding Titus a cookie. Kon cocks his head and resists the urge to swing his legs back and forth like a kid deciding what kind of ice cream he wants.

“It’d be weird if I don’t, but considering how both Superman and Superboy are taken, well . . .”

Tim considers him for a moment. “Superdude.”

“No.”

“Superguy?”

“I don’t care how bad that storm is out there; I will fly home if I have to.”

“Superlad.”

“Drake, I will set Titus on you.”

“Eat your cookie, Demon Brat.”

Damian ignores the order and glances at Kon like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to make the words come out the right way. He nibbles on his lip before speaking, “Jon’s been thinking about your predicament.” He rubs Titus’s head gently. “I . . . believe he feels guilty about taking the Superboy mantle away from you.”

Kon sits up straighter, about to do what, he doesn’t know; but then a hand on his shoulder makes him stop and glance up. Tim is looking at Damian, focused, eyes intent. It takes Kon a moment to go back at the kid, who’s frowning at the cookie in his hand. He thinks for a second.

“He shouldn’t; he’s doing a great job, better than I ever did, really.” Damian glances up, still chewing on his lip, and Kon continues, “But I’ll talk to him about it.” He grins. “Thanks.”

The kid blinks and nods slowly. Tim squeezes his shoulder gently, and if Kon leans into it a bit, Tim doesn’t say anything. Damian, despite the haze of the cold in his eyes, picks up on it though and gives Kon a miniscule eyebrow raise when Tim turns around to shut off the boiling water.

Kon goes very still as Damian’s gaze flickers between him and Tim, his brain coming up with all sorts of images that involve kryptonite and swords and he's already died once, he doesn't feel like doing it again, thanks. Damian gives him a narrow-eyed appraising look, and Kon gets a hollowing feeling that a pros and cons list is forming about his existence and all he can do is watch as it's debated over.

Then Damian dips his head the tiniest bit and goes back to feeding Titus his cookie.

His chest relaxes. Damian looks up at him again, the sharp, calculating stare gone, replaced with something almost contemplative.

“Jon also came up with a few names you could use.”

Oh, Kon is going to absolutely smother his little brother with hugs the next time he sees him.

Damian gives Kon a thoughtful glance before continuing, “Though he did have a favorite.”

Tim sets down two mugs of tea in front of them, and leans forward on the counter with his forearms, hands clasped around his own cup. Kon can see the outline of his shoulder blades through his threadbare shirt. “What is it?”

Damian reaches for his mug. “I believe it was called ‘Supernova.’”

Huh.

Tim looks up at Kon with a smile and a shrug. “I mean, I’m personally still a fan of Superdude, but that’s pretty good too, I guess.”

Kon snorts into his drink and Titus whines for another treat. Damian scoffs and hops down from the stool, cookie and tea in hand, and starts walking back to the hallway. Tim rolls his eyes and picks up the cookie tin to put it away. When his back is turned, Damian shoots Kon a puzzled look and glances between him and Tim again before muttering something in Arabic and turning out of the room.

“Go to sleep.” Tim calls after him, and Kon hears a disgruntled ‘tt’ and a sneeze as Titus follows the boy into the hall. Tim leans back on the counter next to the stove and takes a sip of his tea. “That went much better than I expected.”

Kon grins at him and lets his head drop back. The mug is cooling in his hands, and he wouldn’t mind taking a nap right now.

“I’m still calling you Superdude.” Kon’s not sure if he’d rather kick his best friend out the door or fly through the nearest window. Tim laughs at whatever expression is on Kon’s face. “Seriously though, you need a new outfit. Or at least one that’s waterproof.”

Right. 'Cause Kon’s still in his damp costume that smells like Gotham’s streets which is not the greatest thing ever, and warm clothes sound like a really nice idea. Tim takes Kon’s mug and puts the cups in the dishwasher. “Come on, I think I might have something that you can wear after all.”

Kon slides off the island and follows Tim out of the warm kitchen and up the huge flight of stairs that lead to the second floor and Tim’s bedroom.

He tries not to examine the pictures on the walls, but as they walk his gaze flickers to them anyway. The photos are authentic; bright moments captured by Tim’s camera and hung in the open halls of the Manor with pride.

Kon doesn’t know a lot about photography, but he does know that Tim is good. Really good. Able to snap little snippets of life and set them in frames in a way that's real. He could probably go professional if he wanted to, instead of the current CEO thing. Though Tim seems more than gleefull in torturing greasy businessmen, including Lex which still makes Kon nearly cackle, in the boardroom.

Then he spots several photos that contain other people than just the Waynes.

There’s one of Clark, Diana, and Bruce in a city park, though Bruce’s smile seems a little strained since the other two had basically forced him into a hug. Another that shows Wally graduating from Stanford, arms wrapped around Dick’s and Donna’s shoulders, laughing at some inside joke. Roy dozing on a couch in the library with Jason on the floor next to him, nose buried in a book.

There’s even one with Krypto, the dog nearly buried under Titus with Alfred the cat snoozing at his paws.

He can’t help but stare at that picture and wonder how the hell Tim managed to creep up on the superdog without waking him. Maybe Krypto had heard him but hadn’t been concerned. Besides, the dog likes Tim.

Kon’s eyes glance over the photos again, before looking at where Tim is walking up ahead. He pauses for a second.

Are there any pictures of him?

He shakes his head slightly and goes down the hall.

Tim opens his door and Kon can’t help but let out a little breath of air like he always does when he sees Tim’s room. It’s big, and Tim has his own bathroom, den, living area, balcony, and, most importantly, a giant flat-screen TV to play video games on. But Tim ignores all that and goes over to a dresser, Kon in tow, and begins rifling through the drawers, looking for something. Kon floats a bit, hands in his pockets.

Then Tim holds up an article of clothing triumphantly and Kon’s brain stops working.

“Told you that you lose your shirts.” Tim grins at him, but Kon only manages a blink in return.

Because that is a Superboy shirt. One of his Superboy shirts. Tim has one of his shirts. Tim could have been wearing his shirt. Kon barely manages to catch the reason for his inner meltdown when Tim tosses the stupid thing at him.

He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” Tim looks at him, amused.

“Dude, I have, like, four.”

Kon is fucked. He is so irrevocably fucked.

“How did I not notice—”

“So many shirts, Kon. You go through. So. Many. Shirts.”

“But how did you even get them?”

Tim shrugs almost sheepishly. “I don’t know. They just kinda appeared in my closet.” Kon nods dazedly and Tim frowns. “Don’t have any pants that will fit you though.”

“I’ll wear my boxers.”

Tim looks at him for a moment and stands up, stretching lazily. “So, whatcha wanna do?”

Kon stares at him and Tim grins and walks over to the TV console. Kon kicks off his shoes and begins to unbuckle his belt as Tim looks over his collection of games.

It kinda feels like they’re replaying a memory from before Kon died. Putting in a disc, hands wrapping around a controller; he’s pretty sure the night will play out with the same old bickering and arguments. Just like they’re sixteen again and everyone they care about is alive and only a phone call away.

But now there’s the tension from earlier creeping back into the air. Also, Kon is taking off his pants.

He snickers to himself.

Tim is calling out game suggestions, and Kon is really only half paying attention to the names. He pulls off his damp t-shirt and folds his clothes before putting them on the dresser because Ma’s tidiness habits seem to be wearing off on him.

He wonders if there’ll be pancakes by the time he’s up. Hopefully, there will be because Alfred’s cooking is to die for. Healthier than Ma’s, sure, and not quite as hearty, but still mouthwatering.

It takes him a second to realize that Tim is no longer talking.

Kon glances up and freezes.

Tim is staring at him, eyes roaming over his body with an expression that Kon can’t quite place and hasn’t ever seen before on the other boy. His gaze dips over Kon’s collar bone and down to the muscles on his chest and stomach, lingering. He meets Kon’s stare, and Kon can barely breathe because Tim’s eyes are sorta dark and intense and they’re pinning him to the ground.

He holds Kon's gaze evenly, and though Kon's aware of the fact that he shouldn’t be listening, Tim’s heartbeat fills his ears, fast and steady.

Tim looks down at his hands, and Kon knows he’s not imagining the slight flush on Tim’s face as he lifts up one particular game they haven’t played in years.

“MarioKart?”

Kon’s mouth is dry.

“Sure.”

He pulls on the Superboy shirt; it’s old and tight around his chest and shoulders. He ignores it and makes his way to sit down next to Tim.

They don’t say anything as Tim slides in the disc and the intro music begins to play. Kon fiddles with his controller as they select their usual characters. The colored light flashes across Tim’s face, highlighting his cheekbones and pooling shadow at the column of his throat. He has a freckle under his left ear.

Kon keeps wrecking on the screen in front of them, but Tim doesn’t seem to care too much because it’s not brought up.

Tim shoves him off of Rainbow Road, and this is the part where Kon is supposed to attack the other boy with a pillow in retaliation, but he only spawns again and keeps playing. Tim doesn’t look at him.

It’s too quiet to be anything like when they were sixteen.

He can almost feel the tightrope they’ve been balancing on straining.

Eventually, Kon stretches his neck back and closes his eyes. There’s the sound of a car crash in the game and he knows it isn't his. Cautiously, Kon peeks one of his eyelids open and sees Tim staring at the ceiling like it owes him an explanation for why his life is going the way it is.

Kon hits the pause button and lies onto his back. He takes an unsteady breath. Another. Ma’s words bounce around in his head.

“We need to talk.”

Tim lies down next to him but doesn’t glance over. “Yeah.” His voice is very quiet.

Kon rolls over on his side to look at him. Tim’s eyes are determinedly fixed upwards and Kon lets out a small sigh. “Hey, look at me, please.”

Slowly, Tim’s gaze moves to him. His eyes are steely blue with grey around the pupils, and they look a little lost. There are faded smudges of purple beneath them and Kon wonders how he didn’t notice that earlier. His lips twitch down.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tim opens his mouth and Kon restates his question, “I mean really slept, Tim.”

Tim closes his mouth slowly and stares at the rug underneath them. “Not for a while.”

“Why not?”

A bitter laugh leaves the other boy’s throat, “Nightmares.”

Something cold squeezes Kon’s insides. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Their tightrope sways and Kon breathes and braces himself in case it snaps.

“What are they about?”

Tim’s breathing hitches and his steel eyes close tightly. “People I care about dying. You dying. What . . . What I did after.”

After. Because before and after Kon’s death is all that seems to exist these days. And what happened after had not been pretty. Not at all.

“Tim—”

Tim jumps to his feet, hands running through his slightly damp hair and eyes looking at anything other than him. Kon sits up and watches his friend walk frantically back and forth in front of the TV.

“Look, you don’t have to do this, Kon. You don’t—I’m—I’m fucked up. And I know I’m back with the team and we’ve been working together, but you don’t have to do this—” Tim gestures at the space between them vaguely—“if it freaks you out. If I freak you out. I did some messed up shit, Kon, you don’t have to stay.”

Tim doesn’t stop pacing as Kon slowly stands, the thick rug soft under his feet.

“And I get it. Really, I get it. I went—I went crazy without you. I mean, I fucking tried to clone you and now—” Tim's eyes are a little red, and he shakes his head at the ceiling—“It’s like we’re playing pretend, like everything is okay when it’s not. It’s not. I’m not. And you know that so why are you even still here?” Tim whirls around, hands splayed to the room.

Kon takes a small step towards him, palms open, like he's approaching a scared animal. The tightrope wobbles. “Because you’ve always been there for me; because you’re my friend.”

Another step and Tim’s staring at him almost in pain. “I’m not the same person I was, Kon. I—” Tim looks away, closes his eyes hard—“I can’t be the same kind of friend that you want.”

And that makes Kon pause because there could be something to unpack with that.

Tim’s cheekbones might be flushing, it’s hard to tell with the only light coming from their abandoned game, and Kon hopes they are. He really fucking hopes Tim’s implying what he thinks he’s implying. Carefully, he murmurs, “Do you think I’m the same too? Do you really think that after all the shit I’ve been through, I’d even want to be the same?” He moves closer. “That I’d want us to be the same?”

Tim goes very still like he’s never thought of this before. The tightrope swings dangerously above the chasm of complicated feelings and Kon feels like it’s rushing up to meet them with all the grace and speed of a runaway train.

The multicolored lights from the game play across Tim’s face. He watches them for a moment.

“Tim, listen, I’m still here whether you think I should be or not. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You haven’t scared me away, Rob. You’re not getting rid of me. I’m not leaving—not again.” Tim’s eyes are wide and Kon takes another tiny step towards him.

Tim is giving him a look, like what Kon’s saying makes a bit of sense before he sighs and shuts his eyes. “How are you so . . . ”

They’re really close now, and Kon can see the flickering of Tim’s eyelashes. His gaze drops down a little bit to Tim’s parted lips. “So?” Tim’s eyes open and he shakes his head slightly and doesn’t continue. He’s staring at Kon’s mouth, and Kon sees his tongue flash across his bottom lip, making it wet.

Fuck it, Kon thinks, and he leaps off the tightrope.

Tim tastes like peppermint tea, and he doesn’t move when Kon threads one of his hands through his hair and kisses him fiercely.

And Kon sorta hates himself a little bit, because there’s no way they’d still be able to be best friends after this if he misread everything. Sure, they could try, but Kon knows that it’ll all be forced and even more awkward than this entire evening has been, and one of the greatest friendships in his life is now lying possibly ruined on Tim’s bedroom floor.

He pulls away, a billion apologies already thundering through his head but they all stick in his throat, and he looks at the ground. Tim stares at him, eyes round.

“Shit, I’m so—”

Tim hauls him forward by his too-tight shirt and kisses him.

Oh.

Kon’s hands seem to understand what’s going on much faster than his brain because they’re quickly sliding back into Tim’s hair and along Tim’s neck and are tracing his jaw, and Tim is groaning, or maybe that’s Kon, it’s kinda hard to tell. Tim’s fingers grasp the Superboy logo at his chest, and his other hand presses against the side of Kon’s face. His thumb brushes Kon’s cheekbone and Kon makes another noise.

One of Kon’s hands slides down to grip Tim’s waist, pulling him closer until Tim is fully up against him; his muscles truly relaxed for the first time since God knows how long. Tim nips at Kon’s bottom lip then Kon’s mouth parts open and Tim’s tongue is in his mouth, and somebody taught Tim how to kiss because he’s really good at it.

Kon sends that somebody a silent thank you as the other boy’s lips suddenly escape Kon’s and move to his throat. Leaving him to pant against Tim's ear, more than slightly disoriented.

He's never wanted like this before, not with Cassie, not with Tana. Never wanted to touch and feel and know like he wants right now. Maybe it's because of all the built-up tension, but there's something so amazingly right about this. About the way Tim’s tongue traces down his neck, ending the trail with a small bite that Kon is sure would bruise if he was human, but only makes him drop his head back and groan.

He feels Tim grin against neck and Kon drags a palm up Tim’s back, under his shirt. Tim shivers, and now Kon’s the one who’s grinning as he brings his head back down to nip at Tim’s ear. He’s granted another shudder when he soothes the sting with his tongue, and Kon files away that interesting information for later.

Tim’s back is littered with scars, and even though Kon has seen them in the showers, he’s never gotten to touch them, and his fingers begin to map out where old battle wounds have healed over. He plays with the hem of Tim’s shirt, tugging lightly, and wonders if Tim’s even okay with going that far. Cause Kon’s totally fine with what they’re doing right now if Tim isn’t cool with losing clothes yet—

Tim takes a step back and for a second Kon’s about to apologize, but Tim only rips off his t-shirt, gaze hot blue steel and completely fixed on him.

Jesus.

The sound that leaves Kon’s throat might be a whimper as the other boy immediately goes back to kissing his nape. And there’s bare skin now, and Tim’s rolling his hips, and Kon wouldn’t mind moving to a horizontal surface. Or a wall.

Honestly, he’s pretty sure he could pull off something in the air if he wanted to.

He’s also definitely hard now. Definitely.

Their mouths meet and Tim is laughing into him before pulling back just enough so that Kon can look at his eyes. They’re amused and full of something that Kon can’t put into the right words at the moment.

Tim laughs again before murmuring against his jaw, “You’re floating.”

Kon blinks.

He looks at his feet and, yeah, he’s an inch or two off the ground, hovering from excitement. He lowers himself down, and his ears feel hot, but Tim’s still grinning at him so he’s not too embarrassed.

Kon kisses him again and then one of Tim’s hands interlocks with his and tugs him in the direction of the bedroom.

They end up falling against a wall just outside of the doorway, Kon’s shoulders pressing into the drywall while Tim’s hands play with the edge of his boxers. Tim pulls away suddenly, brows making a little crease as he brings them together.

“Is this okay?”

Kon bobs his head up and down, breathless and giddy. “This is very much okay. Trust me, I am so, so okay with this.”

Tim grins, and it’s so goddamn real, and hauls him into his room.

He barely notices the paper-covered desk on one side and the big skylights on the ceiling. There’s only Tim, smiling warmly in the dark with the pitter-patter of the rain above as they stumble their way to the bed.

Kon’s back hits the mattress, Tim’s knees on either side of his waist, and he’s pressing Kon into the sheets, mouth hot and wet. One of Kon’s hand drops to Tim’s ass and tugs the other boy down so that the space between them disappears, and fuck Tim’s just as hard as he is and a startled moan comes out of one of them.

The kiss breaks when Tim leans back, and all of his weight is right on Kon’s dick, and Kon couldn’t keep his hips from bucking up even if he wanted to. Tim’s reaching for the bottom of his Superboy shirt, pulling it off so it lands on the floor and thank God for Kon’s TTK; because when Tim leans up on his knees, Kon’s able to slip his shorts off without having to move his hands from Tim’s hair.

For a second, all Kon can do is stare.

Tim is skin and scars above him, and there’s a slash of healing red on his thigh, like he’d been cut there at some recent point. His cock is slender and long and flushed a darker pink than the blush on his cheeks. Kon distantly wonders what it might taste like.

Tim raises an eyebrow and snaps the elastic of Kon’s boxers.

Kon shivers and then laughs when he flips them over and Tim yelps as he hits the bed.

It barely takes a second for Tim to recover and scowl up at Kon who grins in response. Then Tim’s hands are dragging down Kon’s ass, taking his underwear with them. Kon kicks the clothes off the bed and turns back to see Tim’s eyes moving over his body until they meet Kon’s gaze.

The hunger from earlier fades a bit.

He stares at Tim for a second, at the small smile on his face, and feels warmth spread all the way down to his fingertips.

Slowly, Tim lifts his head and presses his lips against Kon’s, still tasting like tea. One of his hands reaches up to Kon’s hair, tugging it gently, and Kon lowers himself until their bodies are lined up and he can feel the slide of Tim’s cock against his own. A shaky moan falls from Tim’s open mouth, and Kon shudders against him. He forces his thoughts to line up coherently.

"Lube?" He manages, and Tim is nodding against his neck before arching back to rummage through the nightstand next to the bed. The motion gives both of them some more amazing friction and Kon's grip tightens as Tim's hips jerk against him. The other boy mutters something, too low for Kon to clearly make out as he half grabs the lube and half continues to grind up in these little, smooth movements that are going to drive Kon insane.

Finally, Tim is pressing the bottle into his hand, and Kon focuses on uncapping the stupid thing while Tim snickers at his clumsiness beneath him. And Kon would be embarrassed, except this is Tim so he's laughing too; and he moves his hand from his friend’s jaw, down to the open bottle, and then further to take Tim in his now wet palm.

“Fuck.” There’s a groan against his neck, and Tim knots his hands further into Kon’s hair.

Tim is pulsing in his hand, heavy and solid, and Kon drops the lube because he’s so caught up in the feeling. Kon lets his thumb circle the tip of the other boy’s leaking cock before beginning to stroke up and down the length of it. Tim trembles.

“We should do this again,” Kon says conversationally, and Tim lightly slaps the back of his head. Kon twists his fist in retaliation and that makes Tim’s hips stutter and his back arch again.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Tim’s voice is wrecked, gasping out the words, and he really wouldn’t mind making Tim sound like this more often.

His hand moves faster, and Tim is pushing back, thrusting up against Kon’s fist, heels digging into the bedsheets. He brings his mouth to where Tim’s neck meets his shoulder, licking before biting down. Tim cries out, and Kon’s dick twitches in response because holy shit that’s hot.

He uncurls his grasp and runs his fingers up the underside of Tim’s cock. A string of curses streams out of Tim’s mouth, along with what Kon’s pretty sure is his name. He repeats the motion, watching the way Tim's pants are becoming more and more ragged. Kon moves his head lower, lips trailing to one nipple, and he breathes over it wetly before flicking his tongue out and tasting skin.

Tim’s hands clutch at his hair as Kon marks his way across his chest, and Kon knows he’s close, can feel the way Tim is shaking and gripping on to him harder than before. He brushes his fingers against Tim's cock again, too gentle to really grant any relief.

“Damnit, Kon, please!” And how could he say no to that?

It takes three hard strokes to make Tim gasp and come, white spilling into Kon’s hand and onto their stomachs.

Tim slumps into the mattress, eyes closed, sprawled open, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Kon presses his thumb over the slit of Tim’s dick and the other boy whines shakily and gives a little roll of his hips, face glazing with pleasure.

Then, Tim blinks up at him, still completely blissed out, and Kon sears that sight into his memory. Without looking away, Kon passes his fingers through the mess on his stomach and brings them to his mouth. His tongue curls around one fingertip and Tim’s eyes flicker with the motion. It doesn’t taste that bad. A bit bitter and salty, maybe, but the narrowing of Tim’s stare is totally worth it.

The ache between his legs throbs.

Tim smirks up at him.

Kon is flipped onto his back, Tim doing some crazy Bat-move to get him there, and he blinks up at the skylights, Tim nowhere in sight. Then he feels strong hands on his thighs and a breath over his hip and oh.

That’s where he went.

Tim’s mouth is hot and wet and fucking amazing, and Kon has never been so thankful that Damian’s room is nowhere near Tim’s and that the house is nearly empty. His moan is loud enough that there’s no way someone wouldn’t hear him. He manages to lift his neck to look down at where Tim’s tongue is wrapping around the head of his cock and meets Tim’s smooth gaze. There’s a smug glint in his eyes, and now Tim’s mouth is going lower, taking in more, and Kon nearly sobs.

One of his hands reaches down, palming dark hair and rubbing Tim’s head with his fingers. Tim hums, and the vibrations from that one single sound make Kon’s hips jerk and his dick slide into Tim’s throat a little further. And this is definitely something they need to do again, because it's so good and Kon wants.

He wants and fuck, fuck how is Tim fucking Drake somehow a goddamn wet dream in bed? How?

Kon’s other hand scrabbles at the pillows above him, trying to anchor himself, but that’s hard to do when Tim is doing something with his tongue that makes Kon nearly start begging when he pulls away. He looks back down where Tim's lips have left his dick and been replaced with his hand, since Tim is now biting the insides of his thighs. A small part of Kon curses at his skin's stupid invulnerability because the thought of being covered in bruises left from Tim's mouth is ridiculously hot.

Suddenly he feels intense heat in the back of his eyes, his vision turning red at the edges, and Kon screws his stare shut. He does not want to set Tim on fire during the middle of a blow job. That would be so uncool.

He hears Tim laugh at him from between his legs, so he lightly shoves at his friend's side with his foot. Tim's mouth goes back to his cock and Kon groans.

His fingers tangle in the other boy’s hair. “Tim—”

Tim only sucks harder.

Kon arches and comes with a loud curse. Distantly he feels Tim swallow, and that causes him to shiver, grind his hips up into Tim’s mouth just a bit. He rubs his eyes, the heat vision already fading away. His body feels loose, good.

Tim pulls off of his cock and sits up, wiping at the corner of his mouth, and Kon blinks at him, dazed.

His hair is messy from Kon’s hands and damp with sweat, sticking to the corners of his face. His nape, chest, and shoulders are littered with several marks that are definitely gonna bruise, and that makes Kon feel oddly pleased with himself.

Tim is watching him, rubbing his thumb in little circles over Kon’s hipbone, lips twitched upwards. Kon doesn't really want to move, so he tugs at Tim’s hand gently until the other boy leans down, grabs his shorts off the bed, and cleans up the mess on their skin. This isn’t quite what Kon wants, and he makes a dissatisfied noise and tugs again. Tim rolls his eyes and throws the clothing to a corner of the room before lying on top of Kon, muttering, “Like you’d want to be covered with that while you’re sleeping.”

Kon doesn’t bother answering, and only buries his face into Tim’s shoulder, grinning. Tim still smells a bit like rain and body wash, but now there’s a linger of sex over that, and Kon runs his hands up and down Tim’s warm back, breathing him in.

Tim exhales against his neck and plays with the slightly curly strands of hair at the base of Kon’s head.

Kon practically melts into the pillows.

Tim goes stiff in his arms.

“This—” Tim sits up, legs entangled with Kon’s, and puts a hand on Kon's bare chest—“This isn’t a one-time thing, right?” Tim’s voice is a guilty whisper, scared almost, as if Kon is already regretting what just happened. “You’re not going to leave?”

Kon stares at him for a second, disbelief and hurt curling around his heart.

Then he remembers all the funerals that Tim’s had to go to in the past year. He remembers the one time he went to Tim’s house, back when his parents were both still alive, and how empty it was. He remembers asking Tim where his folks were, and how Tim had gotten very quiet before shrugging and muttering that he didn’t know.

Slowly, Kon sits up, Tim still in his lap, and examines the other boy’s face.

“Hey, I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Tim sags against him, like the weight of the world has slid right off his shoulders. “That was a stupid question.”

“It wasn’t.” Kon brushes back a piece of hair that fell in front of Tim’s forehead. He kisses him softly. “I get it. It wasn’t.”

He doesn’t move until Tim nods in agreement.

Kon pulls him back down and uses his TTK to slide the thick covers over them. Tim shifts around so they can meet each other’s gaze. Something snags in the back of Kon’s mind.

“Ma wants you to come over for dinner, by the way.”

Tim laughs, the sound soft in the dark.

“Sure.”

Kon reaches over and smooths his thumb across Tim’s cheek, still flushed from earlier, before kissing him again. Tim makes a pleased noise and returns the action, his hand going to Kon’s waist to tug him closer.

They break apart, dropping back onto the pillows, Kon’s fingers tracing over the scars on Tim’s arm. Tim blinks sleepily at him but raises a brow. “So, are you going with that name Jon made up?” He brushes back several strands of Kon’s hair. “Supernova?”

Kon closes his eyes and leans into Tim’s palm. “Has a nice ring to it.”

Tim nods, tapping his fingertips against Kon’s temple thoughtfully.

“Whatever you say, Superdude.”

Kon whacks him with a pillow.

*****

When he opens his eyes, he can’t speak.

He can’t speak because there are tubes in his throat, up his nose, pumping him with oxygen. The steady humming of droning machines fills his ears. He stares.

Everything’s green, but not like the green of Ma’s spring flowers, this green is sick and presses down on him from all sides. And he’s surrounded by something wet and slimy, little bubbles rising past his face like he's in a fish tank. He tries to shake his head, but everything feels heavy even though he's only suspended in the liquid around him. Blurry figures walk towards him, muffled voices fading in and out.

There’s the sound of thudded tapping on the glass. He starts to focus, but still isn’t able to blink the wet stuff out of his eyes.

He sees white coats, Cadmus printed on the pocket.

Fuck, fuck.

“Kon?”

There’s a beam of light shining in his face, causing the green to glow, almost like kryptonite but so much worse. It makes him want to throw up. Want to run.

“Kon.”

There's something else too, moving in on him from the corners of his eyes. Something creeping and peaceful, heavy and familiar in the worst way.

He remembers it, how it settled down on him as he lay surrounded by crushed metal and begging friends, his bones broken, lungs gasping with final breaths. It had been dark and calm and he hadn't wanted to go, but it had closed in on him anyway. And he can't go back, he can't.

There's a fist pounding in front of him, and the voices don't match the furious knocking, too cold and clean.

He tries to thrash away from the glass, tries to get away. But he can’t move, weighed down, and even though there’s air in his lungs, he can’t breathe.

“Conner!”

Kon's back hits the mattress and he shoots up, gulping down mouthfuls of oxygen. There are hands running over his back, his shoulders, a worried voice somewhere behind him. His eyes flit around his surroundings. No green, no waiting darkness. He can breathe. Raindrops are hitting the glass above him. Tim’s room. Safe.

This is safe.

He runs a sweaty hand through his hair, shaking. His arm brushes his cheek and he realizes that his face is wet. He hasn’t had one of those dreams in a long time; he’d forgotten what they were like.

“Hey.” Kon looks behind him. Tim is rubbing a spot between his shoulder blades, eyes alert, biting his lip. The sheets are pooled around his waist haphazardly.

Kon twists the patterned covers in his hands.

“What happened?”

He looks up through the dark. Tim’s fingers go over his shoulder. “Nightmare.” He wants to forget it. Forget the labs, and the endless experiments, and all the goddamn green. “Cadmus.”

Tim doesn’t make any sounds, but Kon can almost hear his brain whirring at full speed.

His breathing is too loud in the quiet.

“What do you need?” Tim’s voice is patient.

He fists the cloth in his grip. Opens his mouth, shuts it. Tries again. “Just—Keep doing that.” Tim’s hands run down his skin, grounding and warm, and Kon begins to relax into them.

“Does touch help?” Tim is near his ear, and Kon feels lips press lightly across his neck. He nods.

“Yeah, it—It helps me feel . . . “ He shuts his eyes. “Human. It helps me feel human.”

Tim places a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “Okay.” He presses his back against Tim’s scarred chest, and the other boy leans backward so they’re lying down again. Kon rests his head over where Tim’s heart is beating steadily. He listens to the familiar sound, to the rain, to Tim's breathing; ignores the distant honks of traffic and chattering crowds of Gotham.

He exhales slowly, lets his shoulders loosen under Tim's hands. He closes his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Fingers run through his hair.

“You’re welcome.”

Kon doesn’t move for a long time. Neither does Tim.

*****

It’s still raining when Kon wakes up the second time, but there’s a bit of grey sunlight coming through the skylights; enough for him to drowsily blink at the ceiling. He groans and rolls over, towards the warmth by his side.

Warmth.

Tim.

He’s completely awake now, lifting himself up onto his forearms. Curiously, Kon examines the boy next to him. Tim’s still asleep, heartbeat slow and calm, his back facing Kon though their legs are tangled together. The covers had slipped a bit during the night and Kon can see the pale scars his mouth had mapped out hours ago.

He touches a jagged one, curved like someone had carved it in, and smooths his fingertip down it. He moves to the next. Distantly, Kon wonders if he’d get to go over all of them, even if that could take a while because Tim has so many. He doesn’t mind. His fingers trace across an old bullet wound.

Saturday mornings can last a while.

Tim shifts, back leaving Kon’s touch, shoulders rolling into a stretch. He watches the muscles under Tim’s skin bunch together and move apart. His friend flops over to look at him.

Tim's eyelids are drooping as he yawns into his pillow. “What time is it?”

Kon lifts himself up and glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Eightish." Before he lies back down, his eyes catch on a little picture frame next to the clock.

It's a recent photo, he can tell from the haircut he has in it, and he can easily place the day when it was taken.

Bart had insisted on dragging them with him to go shopping for dorm furniture, which Kon didn't understand considering the extremely tiny size of Bart's room at Keystone University, but whatever. They had stopped for ice cream, sat outside and watched people stroll by.

He doesn't remember the exact moment from the picture itself, maybe Bart had said something funny or maybe one of Tim's dry quips had sent them all into laughter. Either way, it ended with a photo that Cassie must have taken; with Bart leaning inside the frame with a huge grin on his face, him with his head thrown back, smiling, and Tim laughing at both of them.

He stares at it, feels a dopey smile stretch across his face.

Tim hums, watching Kon lazily. “I forgot that you sleepfloat.”

His eyes flick back to Tim.

“I what?”

“Sleepfloat.” Tim lifts the one brow that’s not burrowed into his pillow and gestures vaguely with his hand. “You know, you’ll start hovering sometimes, usually when you’re dreaming?” He frowns. “That’s one of the reasons I knew you were having a nightmare; you were almost half a foot off the bed. Usually, you only go up, like, barely an inch.”

Kon continues staring at him because what?

“Since when do I sleepfloat?”

Tim blinks. “Uh, since forever. It doesn't happen a lot, I thought you knew?”

He shakes his head. Tim laughs lightly, the sound muffled by fabric, and Kon sorta wants to kiss him. He also sorta wants breakfast. “Do you guys have some kind of scheduled eating time on the weekends?”

Tim ducks further under the covers. “Not really, I can ask Alfred to make something. Or we can raid the pantries.”

Kon thinks for a moment. He doesn’t know what time Alfred wakes up, but for some reason, he wants to avoid asking for anything. Wants to stay in this bubble where it’s only Tim and him for a little bit longer.

“What if we make pancakes?”

Tim’s cheeks suddenly turn red and he mumbles under his breath. Kon pokes him in the shoulder, silently asking for a repeat of the comment. The other boy sighs.

“I’m . . . currently banned from using the kitchen.”

Kon tilts his head. “We were in there last night. You made tea.”

It had been good tea. It had been especially good when he’d gotten to taste it off of Tim’s mouth.

Tim grumbles, “Fine. I’m currently banned from using the oven, stove, grill, and microwave for anything other than boiling water.”

Kon's eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

Tim hesitates. “I may have created several small, controlled explosions.”

“You what?”

“They were small.”

“Oh my God, that’s not the point.” Kon’s kinda snickering now, and Tim is too, and Kon really wants to kiss him again. So he does.

Tim’s smiling when he pulls away, and Kon presses their foreheads together. “How about I make us food, yeah?” Their noses brush and Tim’s arms wrap around his neck. His lips move against Kon’s when he nods in agreement.

“Yeah.”

Their legs intertwine even more, and the next kiss is heated, Tim’s hands dragging across Kon’s skin in a way that reminds him of last night. He resists the urge to push their hips completely together. When they break for air, Tim’s cheekbones are lightly flushed, and he’s smirking in a way that makes Kon remember the grin bad guys see right before Red Robin turns all their careful plans to shit.

Tim pushes Kon over onto his back, lips suddenly much more demanding, and straddles his waist. Kon kisses him back just as fervently, mouth following Tim’s a bit when the other boy suddenly pulls away.

Tim’s eyes are catching the cool morning light in all the right ways and Kon’s heart trips over its feet.

Then Tim isn't on his lap, sliding off the bed and walking away. And okay, that’s a bit rude, but Kon gets to stare at Tim’s ass, so he’s not going to complain just yet. But then Tim tosses him a grin over his shoulder, meeting Kon’s gaze smugly before reaching down and grabbing something off the floor. He comes back up, pulling on the piece of clothing smoothly.

Kon’s mouth drops open.

Tim gives him an amused glance, seemingly unconcerned with the Superboy logo stretching across his chest. Because apparently, Tim has filled out enough that he can now wear Kon’s old shirts without drowning in fabric. When that happened, Kon has no idea, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

Tim cocks an eyebrow. “Pancakes? You coming or not?”

Kon tries to make words leave his throat, but only manages a strangled, “Hngh.” Tim nods, like this is an answer, pivots on his foot, and leaves the room. Kon stares after him. He buries his burning face in his hands.

It’s too early for Tim to do things like this to him.

With a sigh of resignation, he gets off the bed and, after some searching, puts on his boxers. When he walks out of the doorway, he’s hit in the face with a large Gotham Knights sweatshirt and his jeans. He shoots Tim a displeased grunt and tugs the sweatshirt over his head. Tim’s wearing some flannel pajama pants now, which is rather disappointing, but the Superboy shirt is still on so Kon takes pleasure from that.

After pulling on his no-longer-wet jeans, he floats to where Tim is leaning against the wall and kisses him in a way that would make old ladies scandalized. Tim’s face has dropped its smugness when they break apart, and he seems slightly dazed.

Kon pecks his jaw for good measure. “Food?”

He gets a slow nod in return. Kon grins and walks out of Tim’s room with a little bounce in his step. He hears Tim mutter a curse and scramble after him, and he laughs.

The light filling the Manor’s halls is weak, but it’s enough to create streaking shadows on the walls as Kon runs down the corridor with Tim hot on his heels. Their feet pound down the stairs and Kon might use a tiny bit of superspeed to get to the kitchen first.

Tim enters seconds after him and slumps against the kitchen island even though he’s barely out of breath. He points an accusing finger at Kon. “Cheater.”

Kon grins and starts opening up random cabinets, hoping to find a mixing bowl. “Maybe.” He spies one and sets it on the island. “Where’s the flour?” The other boy gestures to the pantry and then lifts himself to sit on the counter.

Kon can feel Tim’s eyes on him as he moves around the room, finding and taking the ingredients he needs. Every once in a while, their gazes meet and little smiles appear.

If he's honest with himself, Kon has no idea what this new thing between them is exactly. But he thinks it’s good. Tim glances at him again as he begins to mix the batter, eyes lighter than they’ve been in a while.

It’s pretty good.

Tim slips off his perch and pads up behind him, resting his chin on Kon’s shoulder. “Last time I watched you make pancakes was at the farm. You almost caught the house on fire.” Kon shrugs.

“Ma’s made it her personal mission that I know how to move around a kitchen. She’s had me baking and cooking a lot since I came back from—” He stops himself. Memories from the nightmare surface, cool darkness waiting for him to fall. He shivers, looks down at the pancake batter, suddenly feeling like he's going to be sick. He forces himself to take a deep breath.

Tim is stiff behind him, hands fisting into his sweatshirt, and Kon could punch himself in the face. He really could.

“Dude?”

Tim unfreezes, leans his forehead against the back of Kon’s neck. Kon can feel his fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric.

They’re quiet for several beats.

“You get it, right? That I’m not okay? Not entirely?” Tim sounds so tired like this is the kind of thing he tells himself every night, and it makes Kon’s stomach twist. He turns around, strokes his thumb over Tim’s cheekbone, makes sure that Tim is looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah, man, I understand.” He thinks of the chemical green and the even darker things that crawl into his mind during the bad nights. He shudders. “I’m not either.” He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Is that okay with you?”

Tim examines him for a long moment; his eyes probably seeing more of Kon than Kon could see in himself. And whatever Tim sees makes him lean in a bit closer.

“Yeah, it is. And this,” he taps Kon’s chest, right above his heart, “us?”

Kon brushes back several strands of Tim’s hair, thinking carefully.

“Whatever you want. I’m good with just staying friends, though, you know, the sex could be pretty awesome.” Tim snorts. “But I wouldn’t mind taking this somewhere,” he says and laces their hands together. “I really wouldn’t mind.”

Tim smiles. “Yeah?”

Kon smiles back.

“Yeah.”

Lips press against his and Kon’s hand threads through Tim’s hair, his back pushing into the counter as Tim steps closer.

Tim laughs, his fingers going around the spoon in Kon’s drooping grasp, probably to keep pancake batter from going everywhere. There’s the clatter of wood hitting ceramic as Tim drops the spoon into the bowl, and Kon distantly wonders if they’ll ever actually get around to eating breakfast.

But Tim’s mouth is lazy and open and a hell of a lot better than pancakes.

He drapes his arms around Tim's neck as the other boy's palms smooth around his waist, drawing him closer.

So much better than pancakes.

“It seems that I will be tasked to make my own breakfast since you two seem quite intent on being occupied.”

Kon’s lips leave Tim's and his head whips to where Damian is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth an unimpressed line.

Shit.

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He desperately looks back at Tim, who seems just as surprised since he only manages a weak, “Um.”

Damian sniffles and Alfred the cat waltzes into the room and rubs around the boy’s legs. Damian leans down and picks the cat up, managing to keep his narrowed eyes on them the whole time. Tim’s hands still haven’t moved from where they’d just begun playing with the hair at Kon’s nape, his fingers rubbing at the base of Kon’s neck. It’s a little distracting. Kon tries to think of something to say and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, you want pancakes?”

Damian raises an eyebrow and pets the top of Alfred’s head. “Later, perhaps. Both of you appear . . . busy. Besides, I need to tell Pennyworth that he won our bet from last night, considering how I thought it’d take you two another week to figure yourselves out.”

Kon blinks. “You . . . made a bet on us?”

The kid nods almost regretfully. “Which I have unfortunately lost.” His sharp eyes stare at the batter pointedly. “Though you could make up for it with food. I prefer chocolate chips in my pancakes, don’t forget.”

Slowly, Kon bobs his head up and down. “Yeah, sure.”

Damian flashes him what might be a tiny smile, but then he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, footsteps and Alfred’s purrs echoing down the hall.

Tim’s gaze clears, and Kon can see his brain rebooting. Then Tim shoots him a disgruntled look. “Aren’t Supers supposed to have super hearing?”

Kon shrugs. “I was distracted.”

Tim shakes his head at the ceiling while his hands run through Kon’s hair. Kon places a kiss on his neck.

Tim swats the back of his head. “New rule: No making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

Kon grumbles, “You have too many siblings for that to be realistic.”

“That’s true.” His lips press against Tim’s throat again, and he feels Tim breathe in a shaky laugh. “I take it back. The new rule is not to get caught making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

“You may wish to add butlers to that as well, Master Timothy.”

They leap apart.

Kon’s eyes dart to where Alfred is standing by the entrance to the dining room, not looking very impressed. He can feel his face quickly growing hot under the man’s unreadable stare, and he folds his hands behind his back like a six-year-old who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tim mutters something under his breath as his hand rubs the back of his neck, and the old man’s brow lifts.

“Would you care to repeat that, Master Timothy?”

Tim straightens up, and Kon can see the tips of ears are bright red. “No?”

“That’s what I thought.” He turns to Kon calmly. “And how are you, Mr. Kent?” Kon’s eyes flicker to where Tim is looking like he wants to jump off a cliff in mortification. His lips twitch upwards just a little, he hears an impatient cough. He glances back to Alfred nervously.

When did the old butler get so scary?

“Pretty good, um,” he distantly remembers something from last night, “Ma wants to ask for your snickerdoodle recipe.” He resists the urge to smooth out the sweatshirt he’s wearing as Alfred studies him. He gives a weak smile. “She’s offered to give you her instructions for blueberry pie as an incentive.”

Alfred considers him for a moment.

“Well, then I suppose I shall have to talk to her then.” He gives them both a knowing side-eye. “And do remember that the kitchen is for food and that there are plenty of private rooms in this house for more . . . lascivious activities.”

Kon wishes he could sink into the floor.

Tim drops his face in his hands. “Thanks, Alfred,” he mumbles.

Alfred brushes an invisible speck of dust off of his sleeve. “Now, excuse me, I do believe I have a wager to collect from Master Damian.” He begins to walk out of the room but stops and gives Kon a smart glance. “And please make sure that Master Timothy doesn’t start any more fires in this kitchen than he already has, Mr. Kent.”

Tim’s head shoots up with a look of betrayal and Kon has to bite his lip to keep from sniggering.

“Yes, sir.”

Alfred’s steps are unruffled as he continues into the hall. “Considering how I’m sure you’ll be around this house much more often, you may as well as call me Alfred.”

Kon’s face grows warmer.

“Um, sure thing, Alfred.”

The butler dips his head in approval and leaves. Kon can hear him begin to whistle a cheerful tune a couple of rooms away.

It takes both of them several seconds to be able to look at each other. Tim’s cheeks puff out as he exhales slowly, his ears are still pink. Kon rubs the hardwood floor with his toe. “So, uh . . . Huh.”

“We need to work on your multitasking. Things like using your super hearing while you’re . . . being distracted.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Shut it, Superdude, and make our food.”

“That rhymed.”

“I don’t know why I like you.”

“I’ll remind you exactly why later tonight.”

Tim smacks him with a dish towel, and Kon laughs before kissing him again.

#timkon #tim drake #conner kent #kon el #tim drake x conner kent #red robin x superboy #red robin #superboy #batfam #dc comics #young justice #teen titans #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #martha kent #ma kent #my fic

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Occupational hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn't even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, stalkers.

Part II

Adrian's face smiled at you in the mirror, she was a nice looking woman, a few years younger than you, yet ten times more of a functional adult.

"Reservations are at 10:00 for brunch, and your... friend is waiting in the living room" Her voice had an ounce of disgust referring to Barry.

"Great! He is on time, and please don't be so harsh on him, I'll be down in a minute, chat with him, he is nice" She rolled her yes at you and walked out of your room, you knew she meant well and it made you happy having someone that caring around, even when this time you have lied to her about the true nature of your relationship with Barry.

You finished fixing up your hair and put on the summer dress you had picked up for you date it was the middle of June and it felt nice to have a reason to leave the house well dressed beside the fear that one of the many paparazzi lurking around would get a picture and sell it to a magazine with a stupid title.

And on the other hand even when you don't want to admit it, you were desperate to spend more time with Barry, you were not sure if he changed his mind out of pity, ambition or if he genuinely wanted to help you, but there was something about him so interesting you just needed to know more.

"You look beautiful" His del voice and the compliment take you by surprise "Shall we?" Even when chivalrous things like offering his arm like that or opening the car dormant nothing to you, it felt nice coming from him. "There was a bug in your living room, in the lamp next to your couch" He said once you were inside changing his voice back to the monotone he had used the day before and you felt a bit disappointed that his flattery was a lie.

"You know what? You are fired I'm going to kill him myself" You said jokingly, shaking that feeling away "How on earth did that psycho put a microphone in my house? I'm going to destroyed that shit the minute I get back" you started driving faster without noticing, the road helped to calm your nerves.

"Oh that that won't be necessary" He said showing you the small device crushed in his palm. "I crushed before Adrian could see"

"Then what you said earlier..." You started confused.

"That was a compliment, do big actresses don't receive those anymore?" He asked and youu could see a small grin on his face.

"So you met Adrian?" You better change the subject before things get complicated.

"I did, how much exactly did she knows? She send me an email with your address, and a few notes about places you like to go and stuff like that but she didn't mention anything else" He was looking at the road and you suspected he haven't see this side of L.A. before.

"Well, she knows I'm from Columbus, so I told her you were a childhood friend that came to work here as an extra in a movie I had a small role in, that we reconnected over emails and that now we wanted to explore more of that feelings" a complete fabrication but she had believed it and that made you feel worst about lying.

"I'm from Cleveland, but that would do. So you finally didn't tell her the truth?"

"I couldn't, you were right, is better if less people know" you were already at the restaurant so you allowed the valet to take away your car and you took his hand cautiously waiting for a reaction but he didn't pull away and just started walking in "How did your boss take it? That you end up taking the job?"

"Fuches is not my boss" He said again exasperated, just what you intended, there was a cute frown on his forehead when he do that "And he is happy, he didn't want to work with you either, so now he can ignore the whole thing and simply change his work number."

"A true dream that guy huh?" Even whit the heels you have to look up to him every time you talked to him.

"He is... terrible" He said after struggling to fine a compliment for Fuches "But just like you feel about Adrian, he is family." He talked low so only you could listen and you both walked behind the waitress to your table, in the open area of the restaurant. He opened the chair for you and wait for the waitress to walk away to ask a question that clearly was trying to get in the conversation since earlier "This Maverick guy, is he dangerous? Did he ever beat you or..."

"Or?" You said rising a brow but he couldn't get the words out "He is not that stupid, he wouldn't do anything that could physically incriminate him, but he was rough in verything, I really don't like to talk about it". Your palms were sweaty and the knot on your chest start tightening.

"I'm sorry" He said seeing your obvious discomfort "Is just that I have a friend, and I think she is working with him"

"A friend?" You asked very interested and it was his turn to be uncomfortable "Look Barry he is a bad men, I won't sugarcoat it for you, but it all depends on how known she is, he preys on extras and new faces with promises of big parts, but if she has a talking named role he probably would leave her alone."

"She is one of the leads I guess, is that movie of the moms that get divorce and fall for each other?" He said relieved with what you have said.

"Fantastic Richard make a movie to make everyone around him believe he is a feminist and I'm here paying a men to make me look like a decent woman" you said bitterly "Don't worry she would be fine, he would be the most perfect gentleman for everything about that project to cover his ass, your friend is safe" you reassure him and the waitress returned to take your orders, just when you were desperate for a drink.

"Are you ready to order?" She had a big smile with white teeth and bright pink lipstick and you could see her checking out Barry without discretion.

"Two black coffees please" He said before you could speak "I want the mushrooms omelet and the fruit cocktail" He said giving back the cart.

"And you madame?"

"A whites only spinach omelet, thank you" You said and she walked away no without giving one last look at him. "Coffee?"

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" that actually made you laugh and he was pleased with your reaction "But actually there is somewhere I would like to take you after this and it would be better if you are completely sober" You gave him an intrigued look but he didn't say much else about it.

You eat in a comfortable silence, and you studied his face and his movements, how he keep moving his cup on the table and how he drink never taking the cup by the handle, like it was a glass. Then a loud ring interrupted the moment and you could see your least favorite person name popping up in the screen, you were going to turn the phone off but he took it first.

"Hello?" He said casually "Hi, I'm Barry, who are you?" you couldn't hear the response but you were almost sure he should be mad. "Oh that is not possible, she is very busy at the moment, right sweetheart? Do you want to leave her a message? Oh look he hung up" He give you back the phone and you immediately turned off. "Adorable guy".

"He is going to be pissed" You said with a big smile on your face "Thank you"

After the meal he took the car to drive outside town, there was something relaxing about it, that deserted area away from everyone and everything was definitely a place where nobody will follow and you felt completely safe next to him.

"Fuches told me how you get his number" he said opening the door for you. "And I invited someone here that may be happy to see you again" He said pointing at a man a few yards from you, he was wearing a hat to hide from the sun and a black best, but you could recognize his pale skin almost instantly.

"Hank?" You asked and he start approaching "Oh god is you, I'm so happy to see you.

"Y/N! This is gonna be so much fun, when Barry said he was working with you I was so excited" He said smiling and holding both of your hands.

"Wait a minute what is going to be fun exactly, and do you know each other?" You asked but it was obvious that they did, wich confirmed that NoHo Hank was everything but an ordinary men.

"Of course we know each other, Barry trained my men to be as good as him and take down the Burmeses but then he went crazy and kill them all. But hey! Water under the bridge right Barry?" He talked about murder an mafia the way he talked about color schemes for small rooms, and you could see just how dangerous Barry Berkman's world really was.

"You worked for the Chechen mafia?" You asked Barry.

"As a consultant" He said with indignation "Let's get started, put this on" he said tossing a bag with Gym clothes from Lululemon "I .... I guessed your size" He said a bit embarrassed.

"What exactly are we doing here?" You asked him and looked at the clothes, it was a nice purple sport bra and matching leggings.

"Well your ex is an asswhole, and I'm not that sure this plan of your will work, but since I can't stay at your place all the time to stop him for get close to you, I thought it would be good if you learn to defend yoursel" He said confidently. "Also I made some recon around your house this morning, your window is facing a blindspot on a roof perfect for someone to watch you from there" You remember the insidious calls from Richard and got chills thinking he may have been watching you from so close.

"Decent women don't drink at 10 am" He said sarcastically, making you laugh "I'm kidding, I actually want to take you somewhere else after brunch, and I'll be better if you are completely sober" he said with a playful look on his eyes that was enough to convince you to quit drinking...at least for that week.

You went to a small tent they have set up and put on the work out clothes to start, sadly your physical shape was no match for his, and after what he called just warm up you were sweating and panting. But you felt touch by the gesture, and your heart start holding to the illusion that he may not be doing all this for the money.

"Come on, like you mean it!" He said after you tried to hit him on the groin with your knee but stopped midair not wanting to hurt him.

"Hit him baby! Barry can take it" Hank said cheering you up, he was not actually helpful but it was nice to have him around.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on Richard, on all the pain he caused you and how much you have sacrificed to get away from him and then you hit him again this time with all your strength, and even when Barry was way stronger he bend with paint for a moment.

"Barry? Oh shit I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" You start looking at him while he still had his hand holding his hurt manhood.

"No, it's fine" He said gasping for air "That was good, now do it to Hank" he said and start laughing watching how Hank went even paler. "Oh fuck that hurt" He said no longer holding his weight and Hank run to help you stand on his feet.

"I think that's more than enough, come on big guy I'll take you home" You said and helped him back in the car. "Thanks man" You said to NoHo Hank and offered your hand but he went for a hug.

"Barry is a good guy, he could be good for you" He whispered in your ear and you nodded with a blush in your face, either you were being obvious or he was just that sensitive.

You drive to your place in silence, except for you asking him every few minutes if he was okay. You helped him to your couch and went to the kitchen to find him some ice and an ibuprofen.

"That went well" He said once you were sitting next to him on the couch and he took the pill "Now make sure you do that if that son of a bitch comes near you"

"You can be sure I will, but seriously apart from probably keeping you from being a father I have a great day" you really meant that, maybe it was the way he looked at you or the way he spoke but he made you feel safe.

"I should leave" He said then putting apart the ice pack, "I have to work in the morning and I'll go to the hospital to make sure I don't have an hernia" He said and laughed at your concerned face "I'm kidding, I'll call you" He stood up and he gave you a handshake but following your instinct you pull him closer to kiss him on th cheek, he didn't move nor say anything but gave you a timid smile and just walked outside.

The peace you felt that night, that would extend for the next month was intoxicating, for the first time in a long time you went to sleep without worrying what would the tabloids were reserving for you in the morning, even when Pop sugar had a vicious article about the "Mysterious man taking Y/N on dates in L.A." the next morning, Barry made you happy, and maybe the only cloud in your sunny day was that your relationship wasn't real, it had an expiration date and a price tag attached to it.

Week after week you tried to keep you from falling for him, forcing you to remember how you actually met, but despite the fact that he was in fact a murderer he was a good man, and even when he called himself a bad actor he was excellent at faking caring for you, at holding you in his arms at the beach and giving you his jacket so you wouldn't get sunburned.

He mastered the art of making you believe he get nervous when he would get at your place earlier than planned and you would be walking around in a see trough sleepwear dress. And you have to force yourself to believe that a tender kiss on your forehead in public was just part of his job and meant nothing because otherwise you would be done when he left.

On the bright side was that people were talking about you two and the insidious calls and the nasty presents and threats have stopped, and since one friend of yours on Variety wanted an actual exclusive on your relationship by mid July you agreed to give her a candid interview about how marvelous your life was since Barry came along.

"Nervous?" You asked him and stop a minute to admire him in his old Marine uniform, you never quite get the kink about it until now, he did look amazing and the unholy thoughts in your mind were about to make you blush, you even had stop smoking to make the lie believable but god you could use one now.

"Not really, it's just weird I haven't use this in years" It was all part of the photoshoot that will go with the interview "Thankfully it still fits"

"You can always take it off and that would get attention too" You wink at him, your more efficient form of coping with your feelings was being extremely flirtatious, at least that way he would think it was a joke.

"Hi, I'm Danielle" the reporter said and shake Barry's hand once he was out of his uniform and you both were siting in a nice couch with the cameras around you. "First I want to say that you guys are a lovely couple, and it's such an honor that you allow this space to talk about it"

"Thank you for having us" strangely you felt actually nervous and when he notice you rubbing your hands together he took it one on his and hold it tight. "With all the things that are out there even when I like to keep my life private I prefer to tell the truth once before it hurt my relationship" You said, as you both have practiced for the last three days, your friend Charlie had been nice enough to send a copy of the questions to Adrian and you have choreographed your answers, now she would asked about how did you meet.

"So Barry tell me, all this media attention have had any negative impact in your life? How do you cope with being called a walking purse, as some headlines had said?" The question came out of nowhere and Charlie that was sitting behind the cameras was looking as baffled as you, and ypu could imagine who may have something to do with this.

Barry stay silent for a second that felt like an hour and then he finally spoke with a composed tone.

"When I first move to L.A. I have this delusional idea in mind of becoming an actor, and I used to think the spotlight was the goal, but then when we started dating I realized how damaging that could be for someone, the amount of pressure people put on women is insane, look ar this beautiful and wonderful women next to me, people should be talking about how great she is acting, how far she has get on her own, and how much she does for her community in her free time, I'm nothing, just an extra in a couple of commercials and a clerk in lululemon. If they want to call me a purse be my guest, nothing would make me happier as long as people give her the recognition she deserves"

If the interviewer was mad she didn't show, but that passionate speech was enough to make her back to the scheduled questions and the rest of the interview went smoothly.

"Well that was interesting" Barry had a sad smile in his eyes when he dropped you at your house "I think I overstepped, I'm sorry"

"Don't be, thanks for having my back, I froze I should have said something". It had make you feel week again and that was hurting you.

"Is fine, well good luck tomorrow" He said referring to the Emmy nominations that would be announced in the morning and that you had actually forgotten about.

"God you are right, well another reason to keep me awake I guess" Your mind formed an idea and you were not able to shake it and since he didn't respond you took your chance and went for it. "Would you like to stay? I mean I'm to anxious to sleep and I have some movies we could watch"

He looked completely taken by surprise, and he went dead silent, for a moment you even feard you have gone too far and that he might be mad at you for saying it.

"I would love to, we can finally watch one of those movies you always talk about" He walked in front of you to get in the house and you followed him more happy than you have ever been.

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minstrivia · 6 years

Note

Hiii, you are awesome!! Can I have a one shot with Hobi where the reader works in a coffee shop near the studio and he finds himself going there all the time to see her but it's too shy to say anything. The other boys don't know the reason he's always there and one of the other members starts flirting with her. Fluffy / angsty and whatever your heart desires haha thank you! ♥️

i hope you like this. xx

in which he should really ask for something more than coffee…

Hoseok hates coffee.

The strong astringent taste of the concoction has never once appealed to his taste buds before. He’s not a big fan of tea either— or really any drink that isn’t just plain water.

Hoseok also doesn’t like eating breakfast, so really there’s no reason for him to be here. Yet, here he is again at the coffee shop near the studio with an espresso in front of him.

A small smile plays on his lips as he watches Y/N work. She’s positively radiant, her smile and charisma charming the customers and him, mostly him. She’s fascinating to him, she has that sort of aura people fall in love with— he can fall in love with.

She’s pretty as well, shortish jet black hair always styled in a bob with strands tucked neatly behind her ears and when he gets close enough, he can just about make out the light freckles that scatter over her nose.

“The shop is nice.”

Hoseok blinks slowly, averting his eyes to his friend. “What?”

“I said the shop is nice,” Namjoon repeats. “I can see why you’re always here.”

“You can?”

Hoseok frowns, is he that obvious? He hadn’t even been staring at her that blatantly today. Not with them all here.

He doesn’t even know why they’d all wanted to come, and why he’d pretended to be fine with it. He’s not. They’re cock-blocking— well not really cock-blocking because she’s not actually his yet— but they’re in his way of admiring her freely.

Namjoon nods. “Yeah, it’s got this chill vibe about it— wouldn’t mind coming in the morning myself.”

“Yeah.” Hoseok laughs half-heartedly. He really hopes Namjoon doesn’t mean it.

Y/N looks up from the counter again, chancing another sly glance at Hoseok. He’s with people today, normally he comes by himself but today he’s with a group of boys.

Friends maybe? She doesn’t really care.

He’s got her full attention. She thinks he’s so handsome and sweet, from the day he first walked in she’d been awe-struck, by his face, his voice, his body, by him.

She’s confident she hasn’t met someone as good-looking as him before. And he’s nice. She doesn’t need to speak to him long to know that by, the way he brings up his used mug after he’s finished and the way he holds the door open for people on his way out.

And Y/N’s also pretty used to people making moves on her every day. It practically comes with the job at this point. He hasn’t though, not once, and at first, she liked it, she thought, ’wow what a gentleman’ but the more he came and the more she saw of him that changed that pretty fast. Now she really really wants him to make a move. But it doesn’t look like he’s going to anytime soon. She can’t blame him, he could just not like her like that and he’s way out of her league anyway.

“Y/N, can you go and ask those boys if they’re done with their cups, I need to wash up before I clock out—” Poppy calls out from the back room. “—And I’ve got to meet Wes in like 10 minutes.”

“Alright, I’m on it.”

Hoseok sighs. He hasn’t even had a proper conversation with her yet, except when he’s ordering his drink and even then it’s just mandatory talk.

How he wishes he could talk to her, really talk to her with hours of pointless chatter. He’s sure he’ll never get tired of her voice. And he can tell her how beautiful he thinks she is and maybe even ask her out on a date or two. But, he’s been studying her for a while now and he knows she’ll definitely say no.

He’s seen it happen before, someone trying their luck. It had been brutal and Hoseok is sure he won’t be able to deal with a rejection like that from her.

“Woah…who the fuck is that?”

Hoseok glances up at Jungkook’s abrupt words and he instantly regrets it. It’s Y/N, she’s walking towards him, well technically towards them. But it means a lot more to him. Fuck, why’s she coming? What’s he supposed to say? Actually, it’s probably better if he says nothing. He knows if he opens his mouth he’ll probably blurt out everything and embarrass himself.

“Hey, guys…” Y/N sends a fleeting look over to Hoseok to hopefully catch his eye. But he’s looking down seemingly focusing on something else. Yeah, he definitely doesn’t like her. “I just came to ask if you were—”

“Y/N?”

Yoongi hasn’t said a word since they’d walked into the shop, in fact, he’d been the one that was mostly against following Hoseok here and he’s also been completely focused on his phone to avoid conversation, so his voice comes as a surprise to Hoseok. And so does her reply.

“Fuck, Yoongi?”

Hoseok’s eyes nervously flit between the two, who both are now grinning as if they were long-lost pals. He can’t keep quiet now. “You— You know each other?”

Yoongi blows out a breath. “Do we? Fuck, Y/N and I go way back.”

Way back? What does that even mean? Hoseok gulps. Shit, she looks happy— not the fake preppy happiness she has to show for tips. She looks really genuinely happy.

“Then Yoongi left me to come up here.” She laughs teasingly. “It’s okay though, I’m not mad…anymore.”

Yoongi looks excited as well. More excited than Hoseok’s seen him in a long time. Fuck, how exactly did they know each other?

“Why didn’t you call me when you got into town? Y/N you know I’ll always answer for you.”

Y/N can’t believe Yoongi’s here. The last time she’d seen him he was breaking up with his girlfriend and saying his goodbyes to move up here. It’s been 5 years since, and she really thought she’d never see him again. He’d always been such a good friend to her.

Y/N shakes her head. “I did. It didn’t go through. You block me or something?”

“Oh yeah shit I had to change my number,” Yoongi says thrusting his phone into her hand and she takes it. She just takes it. Hoseok can’t bear this anymore, his friend has talked to the girl he likes more than he has in a couple of days.

But Yoongi’s not done. Hoseok examines the way Yoongi’s eyes roam around her body and he has to stop himself from saying something that will most likely backfire on him.

Yoongi lets out a low whistle. “Wow you look— shit you’ve always looked good but now…”

“Stop it.”

Y/N’s giggling and blushing, actually fucking blushing. Hoseok’s never seen her this flustered about someone’s compliment and he’s clenching and unclenching his fists before he knows it. God, if he hadn’t been so fucking shy. This probably wouldn’t have been happening right now.

Hoseok guesses it’s only right. He can see it, Y/N and Yoongi, they look better suited to each other as well. Probably better than he would with her anyway. Who was he kidding to be crushing on a girl like that?

“Surely, you’ve got a boyfriend now.”

Y/N scoffs. She wishes. “No…” She glances at Hoseok. “But there’s someone I’ve got my eye on—”

Hoseok can’t help but feel like she’s talking to him, the way her brown eyes stay trained on him almost— no it can’t be him. Not when Yoongi’s here.

“—I just really hope he’ll be here by himself again tomorrow, so I can talk to him properly. Anyway, I gotta go.”

Hoseok watches her leave, he’s still not sure who she’s talking about even though he desperately wants it to be him. Either way, he knows he’ll be here again tomorrow, by himself. Just in case.

184 notes · View notes

justcallmemav · 5 years

Text

7/20/18

--------------------------

Pt.20

--------------------------

“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪ ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

---

▪▪ ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

---

▪▪ ·I could use a call right now.

---

▪▪ ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

--------------------------------------------------

▪ You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

---------

▪ I think this is it.

--------------------------------------------------

▪▪▪ Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

--------------------------------------------------

You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

It has to work now.

So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

I want to come home.

I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

Boom

So bitter.

Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

Then along came the thump.

ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend, I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

I saw his girlfriend crying.

I saw my father's coworker crying.

I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me. You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on) Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

--------------------------------------------------

Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

--------------------------------------------------

~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

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estrxlar · 3 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

06 - Too Little Too Late

Chapters songs:

Yam Yam: No Vacation

Numb: Men I Trust

4EVER: Clairo

—

Sugawara

Hey, I won't be riding the bus this morning. My father is visiting and I have to spend the morning with him I'm guessing. I might be available after school, though. So if you wanna walk

Yeah, I'll let you know. I hope everything with your dad goes okay.

Okay. See you later then.

Yeah, you too.

—

One last message from Sugawara is received, before I close the messaging app, and turn off my phone. I wasn't quite ready for what was to occur this morning: seeing my dad. You would think I would be happy about it, or at least be a little excited. But really, I couldn't be more stressed. All my father has ever done is criticize my talents, my behavior, and almost everything that has to do with me being me. Every time he comes to Japan, which isn't a lot, it's the same lecture all over again about what I'm doing with my life, and where I'll be when I'm older.

But at least two or three more hours of sleep. Might as well take advantage of missing a day, right?

—

As I stretch out my arms under my sheets, a knock on my door is heard, followed by my mom's soft voice. "Y/n, your father is getting you today. I'm off to work, okay? Make sure to feed Astra." Her tone is low and worry full, but I wouldn't blame her. Surely your ex-husband coming back shouldn't be so easy.

"I know, mom. Thanks. You have a good day," I say back to her, hearing her footsteps slowly disappear. That's my queue to begin getting ready. What I wear consists of something simple: a thin white shirt, a sage green sweatshirt on top, and jeans with white sneakers, which is something safe. I wouldn't want him to begin criticizing me by starting with my outfit. And as for my hair, I wore it the way I always did.

After a few moments of getting ready, I stand up in the mirror, making sure my personality wasn't showing on the outside. I hated that this is how I had to think of myself when around my parents, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. As suspected, a few minutes later, a message from him appears informing me he had gotten here.

—

Dad

Hey! I'm outside, come quickly so we can grab something at that small cafe you love.

Okay, I'll be out there in a second.

—

Nothing baffled me as much as him being so normal about this situation did, but there wasn't much I could say to him. I could only imagine how many questions he would ask me, or if he would even care about the important things, like if I was going through anything.

Reaching for a basic shoulder bag, I say my farewell to the cat, and make my way downstairs. Once I reach the front door, I take a deep breath and open it to reveal the usual view, except an expensive car stood in the driveway, with a smiling man inside of it. I smile back, easing that he didn't look pissed as fuck. After that, I locked the front door and walked towards his car.

Hesitantly, I pull the handle and step into the front passenger seat. "Hey, Dad." I greet him, meanwhile closing the door. "How've you been?"

"Hm, I've been just fine. What about you?" He begins to pull out of the driveway, and soon enough, we're on the road. "There's much to talk about."

I nod, as he states the obvious. "Yeah, of course."

This is awkward.

My hands begin to fidget, popping and stretching my fingers while he drove on the road, saying absolutely nothing. That was until I asked something to fill the empty space between us. "How's work been? I heard you got a bunch of promotions."

"It's been like always; normal. But yes, I have gotten promotions. I guess I've exceeded the limit, though. So.. what about you? You're still on your whole band-thingy?" He clears his throat, turning into another street: the same Suga and I would walk. "Your aunt says she's excited to work with you."

My aunt, AU/N, was my blueprint. She was my father's little sister, and she had a hell of a lot of money. One time when she was younger she slipped in dog pee at Walmart and sued them 50,000$. Since she was a musician, and far more successful than my band, she decided to start her label, signing many small bands like mine. And so, since I had a connection, my friends and I decided to sign with her during the summer after we graduate. We'd have to move to New York in America, but that was just fine. Because moving meant we could establish a good career and attend college as well.

"I'm excited too. You know, to move and all." My eyes take mental images of the portrait outside today. Trees were finally growing leaves again, and grass as well; spring was around the corner. "Why the sudden visit? Is there a conference being held in Miyagi?"

My question seems like have made him uneasy, for his fingers began making small beats on the steering wheel. In no way did I mean to be so sudden, but an answer to my asking was necessary.

Thankfully, his response isn't a shout and rude remark, but a simple explanation that frankly made me feel better about his stay. "I'm most likely not gonna be able to see you before you graduate, so I wanted to spend a day with you. I know I said I'd drop you off at school after breakfast, but I thought we could hang out longer.

Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

—

To my surprise, the drive wasn't as short as I thought. A total of thirty silent minutes felt as if it was an entire hour. Once we arrived at the small cafe in the plaza, the both of us got off the car and glanced at each other, beginning our way towards it.

I had a certain idea of why he'd picked this spot for us to eat at. When I was younger, I'd spent lots of time here doing whatever I was up to, and usually with one of my close friends, (not that we're close anymore.) To be completely frank, it came to me as a shock my father even paid attention to how much I adored this place. The light lavender concrete walls and cutesy pots with succulents and house plants. Not to mention its colorful m decorations, far more improved than when I was a little kid. Still, it drew Moku, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Toruku to make it our number one hang-out spot from the ages of 8-14, even if it wasn't as attracting as it is now.

As we enter, the small bell at the top of the door rings, and we're greeted by a young girl at the counter that surrounded many baked goods. "Welcome!" She says, meanwhile packing up an online order. "Is there anything I could help you guys with?"

"Two coffees, please." My father replied, holding up two of his long, worn-out fingers. 'Coffee? I mean, I guess. Not that I cared or anything. I honestly preferred the tea with the little peaches in it— what was it called?' My father's voice cuts off my thoughts. "And a fruit lemonade for her. The coffees are for me; long hours!"

'That's it!' I said to myself internally, briefly smiling at the worker while she wrote a few words down. And soon enough, we're told it'll take only a few minutes. Still, it baffled me my father even remembered such a little thing I loved when I was a child.

What a try-hard.

The two of us find a corner table for two, and he pulls out a chair for me to place myself. I do so, as my father does the same. Then, a long-awaited conversation begins. "How did you know I liked this place?"

He straightens his collar, saying, "You never stopped talking about it when you were little."

"And the drink?"

"I just remember how many times it appeared on my taxes from this place, that's all." He chuckles, leaning onto his arm along with stroking his sharp beard. "Why do you ask?"

Without thinking, I answer sharply, looking down at the wooden patterns on the table. "Why do you think? I didn't think you'd paid attention," I say to him, quickly looking up for a rude remark.

He effortlessly sighs and keeps the situation unproblematic. Although, I wouldn't have minded diving deeper into the reasoning of his absence. "I did sometimes. Sorry."

I tell myself to leave it at that, to leave it at 'sorry', but I can't. I can't not say something. "Can I ask you something? And I want a valid answer, not excuses. I know you wanted to have a nice time but this is the most I've talked to you in the past year so I'd rather get straight to it than poke around the elephant in the room."

In the corner of my eye, I see him nod, giving me an okay that I could rant. Well, more like calmly let out my feelings. "I just— I don't understand what happened. After you and mom got busy, it was a total blur. I'm not asking for you two to get together again, and I never questioned why you split up either. I'm simply asking why you guys forgot you had a daughter, that's all."

Not more than a split second later do I realize how rude that sounded. But too bad, I wanted to know. A few silent seconds slide by while he seems to be thinking of an answer, and explanation. Then, the sound of footsteps coming towards us, signaling our beverages had arrived.

"Two coffees," the young lady mumbles, setting them in front of my father as he smiles. "And a fruit lemonade!" She exclaims. The pink-tinted drink makes waves in cold glass in her hand once it's set down. "All set. Is there anything else I can get for you two?"

We shake our heads lightly.

"Alright then! Enjoy!" She beams, then happily walks away. Ever since I was younger, I never understood why the store wonder daughter was so nice. But I'm guessing it lasted throughout the years, or else she wouldn't treat customers so gently.

Father slowly lifts the drink to his lips, and enjoys his cinnamon roast, while I feel my back aching from the perfect posture I perform around him. "Ah, carry on, Y/n. What is it that makes you so upset? The idea your mother and I did all we could to give you a better life, or is it that we picked ourselves up and became better people?" His manipulative tone comes in, sending mixed signals. But I could see where he was coming from completely.

"I just wish you two had taught me what it's like to be a proper parent. Instead, every time I would try getting your attention, you would always look away, and send me off to do something else." I feel my hands squeeze my thighs under the table, as I look up and down at my father with a silent yet harsh tone, "all I wanted was to admire you and learn what was so interesting about sitting in an office working for another person. But that's changed now, right? Because you've maxed out the level of superiority now that you've not done a single other thing."

"Y/n—"

"The fact you worked endlessly doesn't bother me as much as you criticizing me does. It truly hurts me that you attempt to steer me into another direction every time you visit when you haven't even been to at least seven of my birthdays. I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot it, either. You would judge who I hung out with, what I liked to do, everything. You even judged the way I handled my best friend dying, yet didn't think to send me to therapy. Toruku's mom is the one who took us to get help, not you. Why do you do it? Why do you think it's a good idea to bring me down? You've never been there for me, so you don't know me. You never will, father. You'll never know who I am."

A trembling hand reaches for my drink quickly, as I sip from the thin black straw in silence, taking in as much as I can. And all he can do is sit quiet, still processing my explanation.

That is until he speaks, finally. "I'm— I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."

He nods.

The straw twirls between my fingers during the spinning memories of spending more time with my friends than my parents that ran through my mind. But it's whatever, right? I did just fine raising myself. At least that's what I told myself. Truth is, I needed people. I needed to grow with others on my side. It wasn't any wonder that I felt so lonely when I was younger. I'm dependent, yet independent.

Before getting up from my seat, I make sure to down the rest of the cold lemonade I had in my hand and grabbed both my hood and small bag. "Can we go now? Please."

"Sure. We can leave."

—

After getting home, I can't help but immediately let a few tears escape my eyes. The fact two words were all my father could say made my blood boil and my bones stiffen, especially since it was the last time I would talk with him in person before I graduate. Maybe I could meet him before he goes back to Korea, but I'd rather not. Not after leaving it at that.

The doors slam still echoed through the house, while I sat against the front door, crying in my lonely arms. No car to leave, and no one to hear me except a sleepy cat. While I do so, every thought of ever healing the hole between our relationship entered my thoughts, and the never-ending process of realizing I can't fix it hurts just as much as the pain in my chest.

Throughout the blur of water in my eyes, I make out the image of a white figure lying across my feet. I look up briefly, wipe my eyes, and stroke Astras back. Her soft, thin hair glides between my fingers, giving me a realization that I wasn't completely alone. No, I wasn't. I still had old friends and family that supported me, other than my father.

Right now, I had to think about the things that were important to me. The things that would help me grow, not look back at my regrets. Maybe the purpose of his visit was a sign from the universe, telling me to get over my past because my goals are too close for me to hesitate.

I needed a break from today. A nap, possibly. I don't think I'd be going back to school anytime soon, so I might as well rest a bit. That's exactly what I need, rest after a long week. After all, the weekend was just around the corner.

I slouch up the stairs with the chunky cat in my hand. By the time I reach my room, both my pants and shoes are in the other, and I'm ready to knock out between messy blankets.

—

'Ring!' My phone makes alarms under me, sending vibrations through the pillow my head rested on, making my eyelids quickly open. A hand snaked for the device, bringing the bright screen up to my face. It was no other than the band group chat.

Xanax sluts

Giki

Guess who just got invited to a party

Toruku

Giki

No me but I asked if you guys could go and they said we can bring whoever

Toruku

Bruh

Who is hosting it

Giki

Some chick names Miya I know. She's a third-year and seems like a stuck-up little bitch but she's actually pretty cool.

Hikishi

Omg I love her she's so sweet

Oh I know who you guys are talking about she's the girls' volleyball team captain

Giki

Yeah

Anyways she said you guys could go

Hikishi

When

Giki

Uhh

In like

An hour?

HUH

GIRL IM NOT READY FOR A PARTY TN I JUST GOT IN THIS ARGUMENT WITH MY DAD 😟

Giki

Oh come onnn just slap on a dress or something and we can go

Hikishi

WAIT YES IM SO BORED

Toruku

Will, there be alcohol

Giki

Toruku

Will there be drugs

Giki

Toruku

Then this isn't a party-

Giki

Come on she's my friends and I promised you guys would go plus she's super popular so everyone's gonna be there AND she's rich

Toruku

And who's driving us

Hikishi

You mf who else

Fine I'll go but you guys better not do anything to cause attention, if there's gonna be snobby people then we're most likely to be looked down on

Hikishi

I'm so excited yayy

Toruku

What are you excited about there's no drugs or alcohol

Hikishi

Cause this is the first party we're going to ever since last month

Toruku

Oh yeah

Giki

Mhm it's like this back to school party

Toruku

Giki if this is a kids party I'm gonna slap the lesbian out of you

Giki

ITS NOT YOU TOUCH-DEPRIVED TWINK

See you guys in an hour ig

Hikishi

Oh-

—

Mom

Going out tn

Ok. Are you staying at anyone's house?

Maybe. Idk yet

How did it go with your dad

It went fine

Good baby I'm glad

Tell me when or if you get to someone's house

Ok I will love you

—

Happy that my mother didn't make an argument, I sigh, checking the time. It seemed pretty dark outside, so it had to be around eight or nine. And quickly after, I decide it's best to begin getting ready, again.

—

Please note chapters, it means a lot. I work endlessly on these making sure they're perfect for you guys. Have a good rest of your day, and I hope you take care of yourself. Love you lots!!

- estrxlar

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