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ginemrys · 3 years

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a change of heart

This is something very different to what we usually write, a bold departure from Jily! But we were inspired by a tiktok that showed Peter knocking on Marlene's door to Meant To Be Yours from the show Heathers and knew we had to write it!!!

Marly,

Lily and I are going a little stir crazy now. I try not to let her see how fed up with being stuck inside I am, but as you know well enough, she’s an expert at reading people.

I wish you could know where we are, that you could come and visit. We keep showing Harry photos of all of you, making sure he knows you all once this damned war is over. I think you’re going to be Marly for the rest of your life now, he’s quite taken with babbling some form of it over and over whenever you’re mentioned.

It’s unreal to think that he’s going to be a year old soon, where did that time go? Sometimes I feel like we are all still at school, taking our exams and getting up to mischief. I miss mischief almost as much as I miss the boys. We see Sirius of course, but no one has heard from Remus in a while, not since he went on his last mission for Dumbledore. I’m worried about Peter, he seems to be struggling worst of all, he barely replies to my letters now. I want him to be alright, he’s one of my closest friends and I hate the idea that he’s pulling away from us when we need him the most.

We miss you lots, miss you all. Please pass our love onto Dorcas and the others, you understand that we can’t write to everyone, just in case.

Stay safe, stay brilliant.

James.

Marlene stood in her childhood bedroom holding the letter in her hands. She smiled down at it, imagining baby Harry saying her name. She put the letter down on her bedside table before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Marlene, dinner is ready!” Her mother called from downstairs.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” She called back, her head in her hands.

“Marly?” A quiet voice spoke from her doorway. Marlene’s younger brother, Marcus, stood there. He was home for the summer, having just finished his sixth year at Hogwarts. He was the only person who could ever comfort Marlene when she cried, knowing just what to do. So he stepped into her bedroom uninvited, and sat down beside her, one arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, you.” She said, with a small sigh. “Sorry… It’s been a tough few weeks.” She said, resting her head against his as they sat together.

“I know.” Marcus replied, his hold on her tightening slightly. “And I’m not going to ask, because I know you can’t, unlike Mum and Dad. Sorry they keep pushing you to tell us what you’ve been doing.”

“It’s fine, it was all just better when I saw more of my friends… I miss them. Lily and James I barely get to hear from, even Dore is too busy for me…” She sighed. “Right, can’t let our food get cold. Race you?” She said with a small smirk, moving back from him.

“It’ll get better, I’m sure.” Marcus said softly as she moved away, getting to his feet. A grin spread across his face as she spoke, his eyebrow raising. “You know I’ll win!” He took off running, making sure to shut her door behind him to slow her down.

But then a bang sounded from downstairs, Marlene’s mother screamed.

“Arsehole!” Marlene shouted after him, throwing the door open. She froze hearing her mother’s shout, but she joined her brother by stumbling into the kitchen. Marlene’s mother lay on the ground, her face pressed against the cracked tile.

“Mum!” Marcus called out, rushing towards his mother, falling to his knees to grab her. A cold laugh sounded and another green light filled the room. Marlene stood with wide eyes as she stared at the scene before her as Marcus fell limply on the tile next to her.

“Marlene, run! Go!” Her father shouted, his face wet with tears as he burst into the kitchen from his study, brandishing his wand. “You’re important in this war, go now!”

Marlene looked at her father for a moment before running towards the door, more figures moved into the kitchen and she could hear her father grunting as he shot spells that burnt hot behind her. She pulled the door open, but was stopped by a figure standing on the path. “P-Pete?”

“Stay there!” Peter said, his voice surprisingly firm. But his wand betrayed him, his hand shaking as he pointed it at her chest. “Don’t try to run, Marlene!”

Marlene felt sick, the shaking wand arm showed the dark mark embedded into his skin. She stared at him before turning on her heel and sprinting up the stairs. She ran at full pelt into her room, slamming the door closed and locking it behind her before resting back against it. She looked around even though she knew she was trapped. “Fuck.” She muttered, looking around for her wand. She could almost hear Alastor condemning her for putting it down.

Peter sighed as Marlene ran. He felt sick, unable to stop shaking. But this was a test, he had to do this. His mark was fresh, still itchy and green. He needed to kill, to kill by order of his new master in order to turn it black. And he was tasked with the murder of Marlene McKinnon. So he pulled the door open, hearing the thud of Mr McKinnon as his body hit the floor beside his wife and son. The stairs creaked as Peter climbed them, he could hear the chuckles of his fellow Death Eaters, none of them who knew that he was the spy believed that he could do it.

Marlene saw her wand had rolled onto the floor so scrambled forward on her hands and knees to grab it. “Come on.” She said to herself, trying to conjure a patronus to send for help. She had placed anti-apparition wards over her house a few weeks prior, to protect them. She’d thought people couldn’t get in, but she clearly had been wrong. A few wisps appeared out of her wand but she couldn't possibly think of a strong enough memory to conjure a corporal form. Not while her heart ached and her head spun.

He knew where he was going, he’d been here before. He’d lingered in the background as everyone had fun, drinking and partying after sixth year when Marlene’s parents had been out for the night. He’d sat alone, curled up on an armchair watching Lily begin to fall in love with James as they spoke quietly with their backs against the sofa. He knew where Marlene’s room was.

He knocked gently on the closed door. “Marly? It’s going to be alright, Marly. Just open the door, please.” He called through it, his voice soft. He could hear her ragged, panicked breathing behind the wood.

“It was you.” Marlene called back, her back hard against the door. “You’re the traitor. You… You joined their side. Pete, why?”

“Just open the door.” Peter replied, his voice a little harsher now. “I don’t owe you an explanation, I don’t owe any of you anything. Now open the door, Marly.”

“You could have come to us, any of us. We could have helped if you were struggling. Pete, Pete please.” She said, angrily brushing the tears from her face.

“No, I couldn’t!” He spat. He could have killed her by now, could have unlocked the door with a simple alohomora and he’d be done with it. But she knew now, she knew. Finally he could tell someone about how he felt, about how they all had made him feel over the years. “I couldn’t talk to any of you. None of you care, none of you remember I’m even there half the time. Remus used to give a slight shit, but then Dumbledore sent him away. And James only cares about his precious Lily, he doesn’t have the time for any of us anymore.” The words spilled out of him, his voice rough as he shouted through the door. “You’re on the losing side, Marly, you can’t win! So why bother trying?”

“That’s not true!” She exclaimed. “It’s not! We all care about each other so much, but it’s so hard, this war is so hard and it is worth trying, we want a future, a future with all of us.” She sobbed, her hand covering her mouth. “We all care about you. Please, Peter, we can fix this together. Me and you. I can save you, this isn’t the end. It can’t be the end.” She whimpered.

“It's too late. People didn’t care about me before the war, they won’t now. There’s no way.” He knew the door was locked, but still he reached down to turn the doorknob, knowing it would scare her. Some sick part of him was taking pleasure from hearing her sobbing. “Let me in.”

“We’ve always cared about you. What about Sirius and James? Remus? You’re one of the marauders. I’ve never seen a friendship as close as yours…” She said, standing up from the door and stepping back towards the bed, her wand raised.

“I’ve never been one of them, not really. I was just a means to an end.” Peter said as he pointed his wand at the lock, watching it glow slightly as he unlocked it. “It’s always been them, then me. An afterthought.”

“That’s not true, they love you. Let me help you, I can protect you.” She said, pointing her wand at the door. Her legs hit the edge of the bed, knocking the bedside table and the letter she had been reading landed on the ground.

“Not anymore.” Peter whispered. He cast a shield charm as he opened the door, knowing that she would try to attack him the second he appeared in her view. And of course he was right, because there she was, her wand pointed right at him. “See, you lied.”

“You’re trying to kill me, Peter. What do you expect?” She said, sending a stunning spell even though it bounced off his shield charm.

“I have to.” Peter said. “Expelliarmus!” Her wand soared out of her hand. Peter was never very good at catching, so he let it clatter to the floor in front of him. “I have to, Marly. You know that.” But still his hand shook.

Marlene winced as she watched the wand fall to the ground. “You don’t. You don’t have to do this, Pete. Please,” she looked him in the face, “let me help you, please don’t do this. Don’t kill me. I’m begging you.”

“You can’t help me. No one can help me. Not until the war is over.” Peter said, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince himself of the fact, to make himself believe that what he was doing was right. “It’ll be fine, Marly. It won’t hurt.”

“They’ll know it was you. They’ll find out. They won't forgive you if you do this.” As Marlene looked at him she could hear the voices of her friends in her head. We can’t be together, not anymore. I’m sorry. We’re going into hiding. I’m scared. You know I’ll win. I love you.

“No one will know.” Peter shook his head, his hand growing steadier by the second. “They think it’s Remus.” He drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to mean it, to want it. “Bye, Marly.” He whispered the words and saw the flash of light.

Marlene’s body hit the ground with a soft thud, her head falling next to the letter. Her eyes lay open, glazed and forever staring.

Peter had to press his hand to his mouth to not be sick, his fingers tingling at the feeling of casting an Unforgivable curse. His eyes travelled from Marlene’s dead, blank expression to the parchment beside her head. He recognised that handwriting. He walked over to her, taking care not to look at her anymore and picked it up. James . He was worried about him… He knew it was all for show, James hadn’t cared about Peter for years, if at all. But maybe he suspected. Peter knew he had to work harder with his so-called friends, if he wanted to prove himself to the Dark Lord. A sharp pain sliced his arm, a small cry escaping him. He looked, his mark was no longer green, but jet black. He’d done it.

“The other side are on their way. Let's go.” A gruff voice called from downstairs before steps moved through the house and disappeared.

The parchment slipped from Peter’s fingers, drifting down to land on Marlene’s outstretched palm. He kicked her wand behind him as he turned to leave the room, now it looked as though she had been killed without knowing who it was, in the middle of reading the letter. It probably didn’t matter much, but it gave Peter more of a sense of ease. He followed the sound of the voice, joining the other members of Voldemort’s inner circle, minus Snape of course. He did not know of Peter’s change of heart, and was not going to learn of it. Not until it was all over.

A quiet ache ran through the house as it was left alone, the bodies of the fallen left to run cold on the floor.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Sirius growled at Alastor, pushing past him as he slammed the door open. “Marlene! Marlene!” He shouted into the house, walking forward towards the kitchen. He gagged when he saw Marcus’ body lying there next to his mother and father. He stumbled back against the doorway, looking around.

“Marlene!” He screamed out, pushing past the other members of the Order who were walking into the scene. He checked the living room before forcing his way upstairs and slowly pushing open the door into Marlene’s room. He slumped down onto his knees seeing her body. “No…” He crawled forward to pull her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her. “No.”

“Sirius…” Remus whispered. He’d only just gotten back from his last mission, the exhaustion obvious on his face. He and Albus had been halfway through their usual debrief when the message had come in, the message that the McKinnons' house had the Dark Mark emblazoned in the sky above it. Naturally Remus had come and had known Sirius would be there. “Oh Merlin, Sirius, I’m…” He took another step into the bedroom, unable to tear his eyes from Marlene’s.

“Get out. Get the fuck out of here.” Sirius snapped, holding Marlene close to his chest, stroking her hair. He looked down at her before he screamed out in agony, holding her tightly; unable to comprehend that she was dead.

“You don’t mean that. You’re upset.” Remus whispered, though a tear had fought its way down his cheek. Sirius had never spoken to him in that way before, not even when Remus had screamed at him for telling Snape about the passageway to the Shack. It stung, it hurt worse than any full moon. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Sirius.”

Sirius could barely hear anything, he lifted Marlene into his arms, lifting her up onto the bed and settling her onto the blankets. He stood up, leaving her there. “Get the fuck out.” Sirius snapped, moving forward to push Remus out of the room.

“Why are you being like this?” Remus asked him, his eyes wide. “This wasn’t me, Sirius. I didn’t- You know I would never hurt any of you!”

“You weren’t here! Where were you? If there were more of us we could have helped.” He growled, his thoughts were jumbled and he just needed someone to blame.

“You know I can’t tell you that! I was away on Dumbledore’s orders, Sirius!” Remus’ hand gripped the banister, his back pressed against it as Sirius backed him out of Marlene’s room. He could still see her long blonde hair on the bed, his stomach turning. “I’m sorry she’s gone, I really fucking am. But I promise you, I was with Dumbledore.”

“How do I know you’ve not been off with the enemy?” Sirius said, closing the door behind him, protecting Marlene in the only way he could. “How do I know you aren’t lying? You got here so quickly…”

“You really think I would betray you?” Remus snapped, the mere implication that Sirius thought he was the spy shattering him. “You think I’d work with him , betray James and Lily, put Harry at risk? Get Marlene killed? Fuck you, Sirius. You dare? You dare think that the things I’ve been doing haven’t been for the Order, for Dumbledore? You think so fucking little of me to consider I’d ever buy in to his blood purity bullshit? Me ? Clearly you don’t know me at all.”

“Marlene’s dead, people didn’t know where she was, where her family was. Marcus.” Sirius wretched, doubling over but trying not to throw up. “How else would they know?” He groaned.

“I don’t fucking know how they found her!” Remus was shouting now, furious at his supposed friend. “But I didn’t sell her out, I didn’t sell any of you out! Because I believe in my friends, Sirius, I would never think you or Peter would have betrayed James. But no, I do work for the Order alone and suddenly I’m a spy. I know you’re hurting, and I know you’re grieving. But I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me for months, and I’m sick of it! So go fuck yourself, I’m done.” He stormed down the stairs, the front door slamming behind him.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you traitor!” Sirius screamed down the stairs, his knees giving way as he slumped down.

“Get him out of here.” Alastor said to a couple of Order members, who grabbed Sirius and dragged him out of the house.

The front door shut, the green glow of the Dark Mark still lingering in the air. But the house was silent once more.

#a very angst filled oneshot about peter pettigrew killing marlene mckinnon #its dark friends its very dark #inspired by heathers #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #first wizarding war

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anayaahwrites · 3 years

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KOT Ficlet #5 (Momoya Natsu/ Yoshinaga Atsumu)

When the lights start flashing like a photo booth (And the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof.)

Warning: Themes of underage drinking and implied sexual content.

Natsu roughly based on this art by @sasukeslove

A small AU on MomoYoshi's first meeting:

...

Natsu is six when he learns about Angels.

He’s perched on mama’s lap, carrying a new storybook with tiny hands and slowly pronouncing all the words. Her proud smile encourages him to read the larger words too, the ones he’d avoid out of embarrassment—something about a pro-fe-cky and a pro-mice that He exists up there somewhere, over the pillowy clouds watching down on them.

Mama tucks him in that night and tells Natsu to close his eyes and pray because Angels only come to good boys.

He’s ten when it all sounds like bullshit to him.

Over the years, Mom’s rosy smile had withered into a fatigued sigh, a cry for help to the God that never answers no matter how much they pray. Dad was more a guest than a resident. He came around once in a while to eat lunch—with a taut smile plastered eerily over his smooth features—and swiftly vanish to not return in that week .

They’ve stopped waiting for him and Natsu stops asking questions.

He’s thirteen when he meets Sei, a child around his age, except so much more charming and calm and composed for someone that carried half the same set of genes Natsu had. He learns of his father’s betrayal and is honestly shocked at his own lack of surprise. Still, he questions his God and why why why would He let mom’s heart shatter like that?

Sei is quick to laugh and tell him that God doesn’t exist and mom is just a victim to their monster of a father.

So he goes home that day to his outraged mother, hair coloured like glittery Christmas tinsel and sapphire lenses replacing his usual shade of honey brown. She snaps at the sight, yelling at him till her throat closes up, till nothing but a harsh sob escapes her and he lets her. They both had to cope somehow.

By the fall of his fourteenth year, he gets pierced four times and stops talking to his mother almost completely.

To hell with dad. To hell with God.

Natsu is fifteen, and he doesn’t care about anything anymore.

He’s fifteen and quickly realising from his daily job as a guitarist in the club that girls aren't attractive no matter how much they flock around him. He still humours them sometimes, a touch here, a kiss there since the pay is good enough for him to add some extra service on his part.

Mom plies herself with work as often as possible, to douse her misery in the decayed scent of piled papers and clunking keyboards. She leaves Natsu to deal with everything else on his own like the obedient son he is, letting him go like dad left her.

Natsu is alright, though. He’s done this far longer than she knows.

He stops reaching out to her, stops talking to someone up in the skies, settling instead to live a tranquil life in the shadows, under the dependable shade of music. He hates people. He hates the world.

Natsu is basking in the warmth of another uneventful day in the club, when in walks a boy out of fucking nowhere and his entire world tips on its axis.

The boy takes shaky, wary steps as if he were balancing on a trapeze. Dark black bangs like thick black rain spill over the side of his face, half covering wide brown eyes. Splotches of pink and porcelain white stick out where his sweater ends and skin begins. He’s small and delicate and beautiful, Natsu’s heart skips a beat. Or two. Or maybe three.

And why should he lie? Natsu has seen beautiful, quite a few varieties of it too. But this…this was different. This was unreal.

The boy looks around nervously before he catches something and there’s a spark in those hazel eyes, sharp and electric, a smile tugging at his lips.

Natsu follows his gaze. On the stage lies his own guitar—a pre-performance habit for people to know he was next. He took great pride because this itself garnered more clusters than anyone in the entire house.

Natsu smiles. So he was a fan.

He downs the customary shot of vodka, waving at the people before hopping on stage and wrapping the sling around his neck. He scours the audience for a familiar face and it doesn’t take a lot, to spot a splatter of ink black in the crowd, batting eager eyelids at him. The smaller boy realises the attention on him and glances behind to confirm his suspicion.

By the time he swings around, eyes blown wide in a stare, Natsu plays the first chord.

In an instant, his expression shifts to a mix of awe and interest, a silent worship and a loud cheer compiled in one small, thin body. He claps more than anyone else in the room, beaming like a floodlight by the time Natsu finishes.

It was nothing strange. He played among cheers every day but none felt as satisfying with this voice hooting and clearly standing out from his regular gang of squealing girls. He throws his head back laughing back stage when no one is there to see.

By the time Natsu gets out on the floor again, a little more thrilled for the night and dressed in something less flashy, he’s gone. He screws his lips in displeasure and asks his friend to make him something stronger than the usual.

This happens more nights than not, and it was frustrating him.

The moment Angel boy—as he’s dubbed him, steps in through the door, Natsu traces his every move and quickly registers a pattern. He only comes around on days the club was the busiest—specifically during Natsu’s performance, talks to no one and leaves before he has the chance to even ask a name.

Not that Natsu was interested in him or anything. He was just curious, is all—why this boy looked like a starved pet every time he saw him on stage and if he really smelled like soft winter blankets and warm fireplaces, all angelic and pure.

Okay, so maybe he was a little interested.

Months pass like that.

The mid-November chill comes with its blistering snowstorms and the club is jam packed—winters were some of their busiest months—and Natsu’s up to perform. Instead of preparing, he watches the door resolutely from the bar, tapping impatiently at the table.

As routine, it barely opens a crack, and he sees a sliver of ebony snaking it’s way through the crowd. The boy stands on his tippy-toes which don’t give him much of a view, so he does these tiny jumps—that are so adorable, for a second Natsu forgets his own name—and scowls when he notices no guitar on stage.

He checks the time, the stage and then scans the crowd. The anticipation throbs through Natsu as he follows his eyes cross the room in slow motion, dragging dragging until they eventually land on him. Everything stills—the thundering music, the singing and all he can hear is the low thump of veins against his skin.

It’s over in a flash.

“That your Angel boy?” The bartender gestures at the figure turning tail and running, drying the pad on his prized work station. He skillfully pours two coloured liquids into an oddly shaped glass and passes it over the counter to him.

Natsu hums, swirling the absinthe stained drink in hand, eyeing the smaller boy gasp as a couple slams against the door, clearly piss drunk with her suspended over his thighs and gyrating her hips into the man.

“Hey, chief.”

“Hm?”

“You think I can get off early tonight?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Like when?”

“Like now.” Natsu answers, never letting his gaze falter from the head full of black hair slowly receding through the crowd, horrified.

The man guffaws, lifting a glass of water—since he can’t drink on duty—and clinking it with Natsu’s.

“Must be fuckin’ Christmas if you’re taking interest in anyone, so I’ll let this one pass. Don’t scare him off now. He already looks like a trembling lamb.”

Natsu knocks back the contents, swallowing the liquid till it numbs his entire mouth and smirks.

“I’ll try.”

So he follows the boy. Hands are immediately all over him from faces he recognises in passing—a girl he once kissed, someone that made him cake, but he pushes them off.

His boy of interest forces the hood of his shirt up all the way, and glances behind him once before increasing his pace. Maybe the lights are really getting to him and maybe Natsu is a little tipsy when he reaches out to grab his hand.

The boy flips around to lock eyes frantically, as if a ghost had seized him.

“Hey.” Natsu musters his sweetest smile.

“Hi..” The boy replies.

And oh, his voice. It’s sugary sweet and so so soft like—like actual rolls of smooth and silky cotton had woven them. He blushes fiercely under Natsu’s relentless gaze and stares where their hands were connected in a tight grip as if it burned holes through him.

Natsu frowns. “Don’t run.”

The boy’s gaze shoots up, and he’s pulling away.

“I-I’m sorry I really h-have to go—”

“It’s my birthday.” Goddamn, he must be really wasted to admit that. Now that he thinks about it, what did he just drink?

Twentieth November, the day he was born and incidentally also the day he found his father’s tongue down another woman’s throat, holding a child over his shoulder.

“Oh,” The boy stops, pursing his lips and letting the hood go all the way down before flashing easily one of the most ethereal smiles Natsu has ever seen.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he replies awkwardly. “It’s not going really well.”

“No?”

Natsu nods. “It’s nothing different.”

“You want it to be special?”

The buzz in his nerves practically screamed a yes to that—he wanted something to remember, to bury the horrible memories he associated with this day, for the days he wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted to fit it all in this one boy in one night, this angel he didn’t even know, to free him from himself.

Natsu tightens his grip. “Dance with me?”

Oh boy, the alcohol was talking.

Angel boy looks at Natsu with wide doe eyes, peers back at their hands and gulps. Natsu frowns and releases his hold. He was drunk, probably a little more than he’d admit to, but he didn’t want to pressurize anyone—not when this boy already looked so out of his element, a beige hoodie and skinny jeans in a club full of scantily clad folk.

But he reverses the roles, grabbing Natsu by the fingers so delicately, he releases a soft hum of satisfaction. He rubs fingers between his own, feeling the brush of calloused fingertips on them. It reminds him of mom’s soft chest rising and falling when she slept beside him because he was her ‘perfect little angel’ and made him feel safe.

He misses it. Misses being safe. Misses being loved.

“Okay,” the boy mumbles, peering from under his natural hood of hair with a light smile. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

Natsu doesn’t really know what he’s doing anymore. The lights blink and they’re suddenly in stop motion. It tricks his brain into thinking of them as pictures trapped some place in his brain forever. So he stares and stares and captures the blush spreading like wildfire across the boy’s face, a smile widening in tandem with the soft beats.

They’re two faces among a thousand on a random winter night. The music isn’t his type nor is his attire anything to be proud of. But this boy. Holy heavens, if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever then the stars should be ashamed because damn, he’d beat them even on a bad day.

His hair sways—a steady swing of left right left right and a pleasant smile sits snug on his features like that’s where they belonged, that’s where they had always belonged and Natsu closes his eyes when their hands meet again.

This is perfect.

It’s when the music stills that they transition to a slower lull of movement, and the blaze of liquor in his blood emboldens him into yanking the boy a little closer. He lets him fall with a small plop on his chest and laughs when he rubs his nose, scowling.

“Why do you never wait back?” He asks, exhaling at the warmth the boy’s presence brings. Natsu puts his hand around his waist and he swears, it was like he wasn’t human, like someone had sculpted him out of clay, moulded to near perfection. And maybe he’s treading into dangerous waters, but his mouth had a mind of its own and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.

“I always look for you after I’m done but you’re never here.”

Pair of hazelnut eyes sheepishly peer at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just.… not good at socializing.”

“So you say,” Natsu laughs, “But you’re doing better than me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“You have to be kidding me you’re so cool—and and so beautiful I really cannot—since the beginning I haven’t been able to take my eyes off—”

He squeaks when he's dragged closer by the small of his back. Their eyes meet. Natsu sees flashes of every happy moment of his life mirrored in them; His first recital, mom’s naturally loud laugh, the first time he played the guitar. They reach into Natsu’s soul and drag out his joy like the reel of a kite.

“I thought you were an angel,” he chuckles so close, he feels the boy shiver against his cheek. “I still do. Everyone here calls you Angel boy. Score a drink from them with that name sometime. I’m sure they’ll oblige you.”

“Angel? I—” He breathes a giggle, twisting silver strands with his fingers. “If there’s any angel here, it’s you.”

But this is fake, he wants to say. It’s fake, artificial, made of desperation because he never wants to look into the mirror and see his father’s face staring back at him. He won’t be him. He won’t.

“Atsumu,” he says. “My name is Atsumu.”

“Atsumu.” Natsu repeats in his head till it rolls naturally over his tongue. Like Atsu meaning heat and summer and everything bright and cheery.

Natsu purposefully lingers near his ear, to breathe his name in the air, smiling, content.

“ ‘Tsumu. It’s cute,” he hums. “You’re cute.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Definitely.” He chuckles.

Atsumu whispers, low and uneasy. “C-can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm.” At this point, his voice gave him a greater high than the drink he had downed fifteen minutes ago. Or was it an hour? He couldn’t really tell and decided very quickly he didn’t care, anyway.

“Why don’t you.. come to school?”

Natsu’s eyes open a crack to glimpse at the boy who trembles softly under him, as if he were admitting to a crime.

“I—” he continues in alarm, “I swear I’m not a stalker I just—Oh my god please don’t misunderstand me—”

“Calm down.” Natsu shushes, smiling apologetically at the few people around him that had been torn out of their aggressive make-out session as if they weren’t the ones that needed a room. God, if he sees another dick hanging out, he’ll have to bust out the chainsaw in the basement and go wild.

“So,” he leads them to a quieter corner with very few people and lesser eyes their way. “School,” he waves a hand dismissively, “It’s boring. Lots of people. Annoying questions. You know the drill.”

“Right,” he gulps. “Right so, I’m uhh—in your class I don’t think you noticed and I’m from an instrument club and someone asked us a question. Something about erotic sounds—wait that sounds bad—not erotic erotic but.…Ah, I’m bad at explaining.”

Natsu doesn’t keep back the dreamy giggle that leaves him, swaying lightly to the music. He’s exactly as he imagined—hell, even his name was spot on—all warm and giggly and fluttery.

“I’m still listening,” Natsu smiles. “Go on.”

Atsumu scrunches his nose and continues. “So one of my club seniors—he comes of a little rough but he’s really nice—went to one of my other seniors house who I think he really likes, and her mother told him it’s—I’m sorry am I too confusing?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Okay, so basically, her mother says it’s the pause in between his words and actions. The space that is just…there. And so I was writing about it—because I write everything—and Oka-kun saw my book.”

Natsu scowls. “Oka is annoying like that.”

The boy giggles this time. “Funny. He said you’d say that.”

“It’d be nice if he attempted to change it, then.”

“And so he told me you play music, where you work and that maybe you could do something good for once—I didn’t say that he did—So…” He moves his hand vaguely around them. “Here I am.”

Natsu hums against his head, bringing him to a slower pace as the song changes.

“I’ll have to thank him for that.”

“You’re not..angry?” He says through furrowed brows. “Oka-kun said you would be if you found out.”

He’s certain if Oka showed up here uninvited, Natsu would promptly kick him out. Because Oka is annoying. Atsumu however….

“So? Did you get your answer?” He asks instead.

The smaller boy makes a face, pulling all his features in to make his button nose stand out more than it already does and pout.

Natsu laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that today. Laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Don’t get me wrong! Your performances are splendid and I really can’t get enough of them but the answer…I still haven’t reached a conclusion.”

Natsu plays with the fingers in his hand, shuffling to let them sink into the gap between his. Atsumu stares and responds by shyly tucking his fingers in.

“Want me to help you?” He whispers, tapping the side of Atsumu’s waist with his other hand.

“Can you?” He whispers back.

Can he? Yes. Should he? Probably not.

But what use is logic anyway, when a boy the embodiment of a sunny summer day amid a bitter winter stood enclosed in his arms?

Yeah. To hell with logic.

Natsu sways his hips, raking his free hand through Atsumu’s hair. He releases a pleased sigh when the tiny fingers between his tighten as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, which was good. Natsu felt the same, like his sanity was slowly slipping through open fingers.

“Spaces…exist everywhere. In words, in voices, in time…” He draws their joined hands to his mouth, dragging wet lips over porcelain skin. Atsumu shudders, breathing in sharp, shallow exhales.

“These hands..there’s a space in between them too if you look carefully. We’re so close,” fingers tighten around his shirt. “But still never close enough.

He runs a palm down the boy’s face that angles and angles till plush, red lips are within kissing distance. They part and blow warm clouds of air that taste mint and chocolate in his mouth. Natsu smiles. “Space is where there is distance. Space is where there is intimacy. Space is where there is friction. And this exciting gap that keeps us wanting to be closer till not even an atom could squeeze in—” he leans in closer, “—is erotic.”

He backs away while he has the physical capacity to do so, before the alcohol overrides every decision in his head and they end up a tangled mess of limbs in some random hotel room, but Atsumu having none of it.

He pulls Natsu to himself, clutching the pleats of his shirt and tugging him down to his lips. Teeth knock loudly against each other and Natsu hisses lightly, parting to lick the tingle in the tip of his incisor away.

“S-sorry!” Atsumu covers his embarrassment behind shaky hands. Natsu wraps thin fingers under his chin, reeling him in slow and steady and closes the distance. It’s soft, like a snowflake on a tree, virgin snow settling on frozen water and ironically, melts him. It boils and freezes, ignites his soul into a firework of bursting flames. He’s touching, feeling, pulling until every inhale feels like fire in his lungs.

“Closer,” Atsumu murmurs, throwing nimble hands over his shoulder and locking their lips together like puzzle pieces on a gameboard. “Make the space go away.”

It’s chaotic, and it’s magical. Like every star in the galaxy twinkled around them tonight, like every blossoming flower settled wherever Atsumu touched him. He’s drunk on vodka, drunk on happiness, drunk on love.

Closer. Natsu pushes a knee in between his thighs. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head.

Closer. The hands in his air pull him in for another searing kiss, pressing for entry, to delve deeper, deeper into themselves. Atsumu nibbles lightly on his lip and Natsu lets him bruise him for tonight. To wreck him, destroy him.

Closer.

They settle for a slower casual rhythm when they part to breathe. He keeps them moving on the floor, smiling against a pair of swollen lips.

“School suddenly sounds much more interesting.” He says.

Atsumu squints incredulously. “We can’t do this at school.”

“No?”

“No!”

Natsu shrugs, pecking the tip of the boy’s nose. “Shame.”

“Then you’ll come?” Atsumu bumps his forehead against Natsu’s. “I’ll really see you tomorrow?”

“If you can walk home straight after tonight, then sure.”

Atsumu gasps and slaps him across the back, blushing as they leave the club, hand in hand, away into the wintery night.

Natsu turns sixteen—a little drunk, a lot happy—but he’s sixteen and he can pinpoint this as the day he falls in love even years later.

And every other birthday is insignificant but so much better, spent at home, in the arms of the boy that saved him in just one night, all those years ago.

Mom only ever asks where he’s going and who he’s moving in with while he packs his bags to leave. She frowns when he answers with the widest smile on his face, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“An Angel.”

Ignore the sloppy writing haha. I'm writing this while travelling back home after a god awful six hour exam.

It felt too plotless to post on my ao3 kdkcd—

If you look at the colouring of Natsu I based it on (go give @sasukeslove all the real love), I imagine the art as the morning after when Oka's annoying Natsu and Atsumu walks in through the door (≧▽≦)

#kono oto tomare!#kotedit #kot #ao3 #dailykot #fanfic #kono oto #ficlet #momoyoshi #momoya natsu #atsumu yoshinaga #Spotify

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octania · 4 years

Text

Obi Akitaru x Reader (NSFW,18+)

This is a commission I did for the sweet @super-spooder. I appreciate her support in this way greatly and I was so happy that she liked it and she gave me her permission to redo the fic in a “Reader” version. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: coworkers falling in love,public sex, dirty talk, creampie,

Short description: You are company’s 8 doctor, and you set your eyes for your captain. You tried to run from your feelings but did not know that the same problem is shattering Captain’s Akitaru heart, who will not stop until he has you in his arms.

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The light shone softly along her irises. I had never seen them up close like this before, because if I had, I wouldn't have stepped away. Nothing divided us anymore, there was nothing between us, not even the air, because I could no longer restrain myself. I will take the opportunity to the end, because maybe I will never get a chance like this again. She spoke once more, I would swear I heard the same thing the first time, but it seemed so unreal, I had to hear it once more.

“I don’t care about nothing but you. I will risk everything, I am sure of it, just to be with you. ”- the words came from (Y/N) soft lips, that seemed sweet like honey. Now I will finally be able to taste them, she gave me her permission, my feelings did not travel down a one-way road after all.

Obi gasped closer to her lovely face, his hands desperately grabbing at her waist as lungs grabbed the air. At last the facade of false denial cracked and he could set free what he had tried in vain to bury within himself. But the image of (Y/N)’s angelic face began to crack, blurring like turbulent water, letting an unpleasant light cover his vision.

He blinked. Once, twice, absorbing the feeling of rough sheets beneath his half-naked body. The faded wall once again replaced the reflection of his deepest desires, he once more became a slave to his dreams and awoke in the shackles of reality. His jaw clenched, he pulled the covers timidly, turning angrily on his stomach. His eyes were accustomed to the dark and awkward picture of reality, but his heart raced at the thought of returning to a world without her. That is, even worse, the world with her close but he cannot reach for her, he must not…

His fingers ached from the convulsive grip with which he held the sheets. He reached for her, little by little, ignoring the obstacles that clearly stood there, but something was shutting him down. She? He could have sworn the blush on her face streaked across her cheeks every time he gave her a restrained lovely word or praise, but why then run away from him after every time she gave him a smile? Why does her voice crack or stutter every time he is close to her or talks to her a little longer? If the truth is so fatal and she does not see him as he sees her?

In the night when she gets lonely, I wonder does she ever think about me?

The need to be her consolation, her support and the only body touching hers rose in his chest like a powerful storm. Anger and need, longing and pain mingled. It was his weakness from the moment she walked through the door of Company 8. If he had known how much his heart would be devoured by the cold teeth of loneliness, he would have forwarded her employment papers to Company 1. Maybe then he could finally approach her at the level of a human being and not a superior, he would not be burdened by a business relationship, and he would not have to choose what is appropriate and what is not.

Like it matters?

As if that would stop him if he only knew she shared his longing.It didn't stop him now, because he had been trying for months. It started innocent at first, from the first day he saw her through the window, approaching their company. How the wind played with the strands of her hair, how the light shines on the color of her eyes, how she holds herself proudly but still with two feet on the ground. He remembers staring longingly at the young woman. Surprise and adrenaline rushed through his veins as she turned off the street toward the main gate of their building. Just a few seconds later, a couple of light bangs echoed through the hallway as she knocked. He couldn't move, he was mesmerized and confused. He couldn't even get himself to stand when she appeared before his eyes again. Maki cheerfully escorted her to his office.“Here she is! Captain Akitaru, this is our new doctor! ” - she said excitedly, smiling in a welcoming manner to the young woman who had arrived.Her steps were graceful. A dark gray tunic fell over her hips, while her long legs barely gave Obi the opportunity to unglue his eyes from them. She held out her small hand, speaking in a voice that dwells in his most intimate dreams to this day . "My name is (Y/N), it is a pleasure to meet you captain Akitaru." No, he was wrong. He knew from the first moment how much her presence would cost him, but he would not trade his suffering for anything, he would never send her away.

* * *

"I will not tell you again lieutenant Hinawa, your eating habits have to change." – (Y/N) anxiously measured lieutenant’s pressure, while at the same time her eyes shifted along the result papers she had just received.

“The food you are consuming has a low fiber and vitamin value, and you push your body to the extreme limits on the missions and working overtime as well. It affects your health, and from your blood results I can clearly see you lack magnesium which explains your migraines, thiamine which is to blame for your sore muscles, and biotin which raises your cholesterol!”- her voice rose for a few octaves as she read the blood results.

She dropped the pressure gauge on the table unsatisfactorily, forcing Lieutenant Hinawa, who is otherwise known for his icy gaze and stony expression, to be ashamed of his actions. She took a deep breath, her voice now sounding more worried like mother's.

"I know you work a lot, but you have to take care of yourself. I will prescribe you a couple of vitamins in tablets to improve your state a bit, but you must urgently include the list of foods that I will compile for you in your diet. I don't want your condition to get worse. ”- the devotion she felt for the members of the company could be compared to the mother's instinct when defending her young. She took their health not only seriously, not only as an obligation, but as her purpose, and she only attributed every omission to herself as a mistake. Hinawa lowered his head and squeezed his knees with his hands, making a slight bow as a sign of respect and agreement.

“Yes doctor (Y/N). I apologize.” - He said humbly like a scolded child. "Hay, you don't have to apologize to me, I just want you to take care of yourself… because if you don't, I will have you force fed carrots and apples, washing it down with orange juice." - she giggled, handing him the prescription. A restrained smile of gratitude appeared on the lieutenant's face as he picked up the prescription, rising from his chair, bowing once more deeply before heading for the door. In the solitude of her office, (Y/N) arched her back against the plastic chair and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She massaged her tired eyelids with her fingers, thinking how hypocritical it is to scold others about caring for their own health when she is much worse than them. This was her third night that she barely slept, because she was overworking herself.

For breakfast, she had two large cups of coffee with a ton of sugar and a couple of dry crackers, which really wouldn’t even have been a part of her meal if her stomach hadn’t rustled sadly and betrayed her condition.

“So, how is our lieutenant doing? I saw his list of recommended fruits and vegetables, and it really goes forever. ”- a deep male voice made (Y/N) jump out of her chair, almost having a heart attack. She opened her eyes in wonder as she scanned the room for the source of the voice, squeezing her T-shirt on her chest from shock. Her already jumpy heart from the surprise, only pounded even harder against her rib cage when she saw two delicate irises, colored like the whiskey through which the sunlight is shining.

“Captain Akitaru! I didn’t hear you coming in. ” - she leaned on her legs, nervously fixing the white lab coat on her hips. He shrugged his broad shoulders as he watched her with a calm expression on his face, a gentle smile flickering on his lips. She could feel her cheeks begin to fire up, the air escaping from her lungs and making her breathe faster. She wrapped one arm around her waist, repeating endlessly in her head to calm down. This was happening more and more often.

Her anxiety would come to the surface every time Obi was next to her. Previously, she had managed to cover the corners of her lips, which without her permission automatically curled into a shy smile every time he looked at her. She would bite her lip, clear her throat, and look away. But now, a fleeting smile was the least of the problems. The treacherous red colors constantly painted her face, her pulse exceeded the limits of normal, her tongue twisted and she stammered if she had to talk to him for too long. Shame flooded the inside of her chest as the thought she so desperately wanted to bury pierced the surface, like a flower in growth and spread its petals of truth.

She liked him. She liked him more then she could ever admit or allow to herself.

When she first felt that her devotion and sympathy for the captain transcended the boundaries of respect and turned into something more intimate and personal, for the first time she took a day off. She felt guilty, caged inside something where there was no real way out to freedom, she could only hide along with her secret. All day she pondered the events that had brought her to the brink and pushed her into the abyss of these hidden feelings. She was convinced that the captain's affection for everyone was the same, and when he brought her coffee, asked her about her day, was always there to help her, it was the same thing he would do for anyone else in their company circle, and then she allowed herself to distort his intentions and began to view him as something more than a superior. Like a man. A handsome man with a heart of gold, a look that made her knees shake, shoulders as wide as if he carried the whole weight of the world on them, and a courage that could only be seen in sci-fi superhero movies. From that point on, she began to avoid him, as smoothly and painlessly as she could. She couldn't look him in the eye, she couldn't allow herself to see his gestures as anything more than mere decency.

How blind she really was.

She came to work earlier than anyone, just to keep the hallways empty so she could sneak like a ghost to her office. She went home last, doing the impossible jobs that made her sleepy head fall to the table and force her to sleep for an hour from exhaustion. But somehow that didn't work either. She began to see him in the craziest hours of the morning, while dawn was barely breaking through the dark clouds, sitting in his office from which the door was always open, a gesture showing that anyone could always come in for help or advice, greeting her warmly, beginning even an innocent conversation with her, but she would hastily answer a few words and disappear down the hall. As she went home at a time when the big yellow moon was already standing proudly in the starry sky, she could see his tired face under the lamp of a desk scanning papers or worse, hear the pounding of iron bars coming from their private gym that was literally placed in front of her office. She had to go that way, she had to, there was no other way out. At least she thought so until she tried to sneak out of her office on tiptoe, tapping her black shoes as softly as she could, praying to Sol that her dark clothes would blend in with the shadows in the hallway. But she was wrong.

Obi’s eyes were like hawks, patiently waiting for the prey to make a move. He had been working out tirelessly for two hours, staying after everyone but her. He knew she would come out last, and that would give him a chance to catch her alone. Maybe that changes something. Maybe if they are alone, something will be different after all.

“(Y/N) I thought you left. ”- an innocent lie. His strong arms lowering the weights next to the bench. Drops of sweat ran down his broad neck over his back. His undershirt clung to his pronounced muscles as if he had just come out of the water. Abs like carved from the stone, moving in waves as he caught his breath.

“C-captain Ak-guitar, I-I..I was just leaving. I am sorry if I disturbed you. ” - as if hypnotized, she followed his wide torso as he approached. His gasps intoxicated her innocent ears, reminding her of the way men breathe when they fuc…..

She couldn't even finish the thought, her lips trembled, there was a hurricane in her head, when her legs rushed down the hall. She could hear his voice echoing down the walls of the hallway, calling to her and asking if everything was okay, but she couldn't stop, she couldn't look at him. Her eyes filled with tears at her weakness. It was the last day she thought the only way out through the door was possible.

She wanted to make her escape possible at all costs, so the idea of going out or coming in through the window no longer seemed insane at all. She was sneaking behind the building in the early morning, coming to her office window on the ground floor, which she had left open last night, when she ran home through it in the same way as a thief would in the late hours of the night. But even that solution didn't last long, when she made a mistake and didn't look at which cars were packed in the driveway of Company 8. Truth be told, she didn't even blame herself, fatigue squeezed her like a parasite, and her concentration in the morning was zero. She was already halfway up the window, barely dragging her gear with one hand behind her, when she heard a familiar voice.

“Doctor? What in the Sol’s name are you doing? ” - Vulcan watched with his emerald eyes in amazement as (Y/N) barely held on to the window frame, almost falling down on her head when Vulcan called to her.

“Vulcan! Oh I..I .. ”- she turned her head in panic, her cheeks red as a ripe apple.

“I forgot my keys! Yes. I forgot my keys and I didn’t know that there was someone here. ” - she awkwardly shifted inside the building, accidentally dropping equipment that fell under the window.

"Oh. Well you should have knocked, Captain Obi was already in, he could have let you in.”- said Vulcan collecting (Y/N)’s things and slowly adding them to her.

Of course he is there… ..that is why I am here, making a fool out of myself…

"Silly me, I guess I need some rest after all." - she scratched the back of her head nervously, bowing to the young man out of gratitude, trying to close the window as soon as possible.

“But..how come the window is open? Is it broken? ” -Vulcan said before (Y/N) closed the window.

“No! Um..I guess I forgot the close it the night before. ”- she delved deeper into her excuses, realizing more and more how big a problem she is struggling with.

"Don't worry, I'll tell Shinra and Arthur to check every window from now on to make sure they're closed when we leave." - he said with a hearty smile, turning and waving goodbye. She followed him with her eyes for a bit with a sad look of defeat. This was her last idea of how to sneak in and out of the building, and it is now a thing of the past. She would have to face the captain again. A crystal tear danced in the corner of her eye as a rush of emotion passed through her being. She felt cornered, and the only thought that just crossed her mind didn't help. Her heart craved solace, and her brain created the only scenario that could provide it, and that was Obi’s long arms wrapped around her fragile shoulders, hugging her and whispering in her ear that everything was fine and that he was there now. She shook her head as if trying to push that scene as far as she could, opening her eyes.

No… no… this is not right..I can’t…

After that day, she decided to deal with her problem head on. Well, at least in some way. She sucked in the raging waves of her desire and tried to keep the encounters with Obi brief, more professional than usual, and above all, public. Always to be around people. She even started to leave her door wide open when there was no patient in, so if she sees him, someone would always pass in the hallways shortly after, and she would give her best to indulge in a conversation with that person, making them to join the two of them. But now, Obi was in her office alone, and he closed the door behind him.

He did not say anything, he just kept walking in her direction slowly, his eyes the color of dark honey staring in hers, making her take a few steps back when she bumped in the table behind her.

"H-hinawa will be ok if he follows the list I made him." - she answered nervously, trying not to stutter, exhaling gratefully when Obi stopped a meter away from her.

“I agree, good nutrition is very important. I would like to hear you professional opinion and advice on it. Maybe..you could show me how to properly eat over a dinner. ” - his voice exuded self-confidence, but he could hear the buzzing in his ears from the pressure as blood flowed rapidly through his body as his heart quickly pumped it.

She can’t misinterpret this.

He thought as he clenched his fists impatiently inside the pockets of his orange fire pants. But he was wrong. She didn’t have to misinterpreted it, she only has to go back to her endless denial and dodge the bullet.

Dinner… ..? Did he say… .d..dinner?

She could barely stand on her feet when she realized what he had asked her. She lowered her gaze, her hair covered her face as her teeth sank into her bottom lip.

Is it possible he wants the same thing as I do? Not! Impossible! Even if he wants to, we can't,… we can't… He is my captain, and I am the doctor of this company.

Her heart was now skipping a beat as the panic attack clawed its way up to her very core. She knew if she looked him in the eyes and tried to speak, her voice would break and her tears would fall. She had to run. She had to get out of here. Without even looking up, she slipped between the chair and the table, dodging Obi in a full circle, not turning back, wanting to reach the door quickly. When she grabbed the doorknob, she could feel a glimmer of relief as she deftly directed an answer to Obi, who stood quietly behind her.

“Of course! That is a great idea! I can show everyone tonight at the party we are having! ”- how she managed to forget about it, about one golden ticket that was now in her hands, party where all the members of Company 8 will be, and they will have dinner together. She didn't let him answer, but flew out of the room as if the devils were chasing her. And she was haunted, the darkest demons of her forbidden desires who were now fed with his inappropriate question.

* * *

This warm summer night in the company garden was different than usual. It was decorated with shiny little lights in various colors, hanging from the high tree branches, balloons being glued to the doors and some of them lying on the floor on top of the glittery confetti. They dragged two wide tables from the conference room, filling them with paper glasses, hard plastic dishware, various appetizers they ordered from the catering a few blocks away, a cake server sinking into an untouched cake, a big bowl of punch, a few beers, sodas, and a box filled with ice mixed with energy drinks.

From all this choices, (Y/N)’s hand instantly reached for the cooled can of energy drink. She snapped the metal opener, bringing the bubbly liquid to her glossy lips. She hummed when she tasted the beverage, enjoying the waking up sensation it brought to her senses. She turned, viewing all of the company members enjoying their time together. This was her first time celebrating the company’s anniversary with them, and she loved it already.

Arthur and Shinra playing like two little kids, throwing balloons at each other screaming in playful rage, Hinawa picking the vegetables from the metal plates filled with food, honoring his word to the doctor, the girls giggling and commenting how Vulcan is trying his best to tie his tie but keeps falling, blushing and turning so they can’t see, but they just keep fallowing the poor guy around and innocently teasing him. Only one person was missing. She felt a cold sting of panic traveling along her spine. Pushing down the unpleasant feeling, she closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to convince herself that everything will be just fine. She practiced this at home, for the love of Sol, for hours. After this morning and her talk with Obi, she made her best move in denial yet. Deciding that over thinking it as always will only bring more harm, so she decided to brush it off as a misunderstanding. He must have thought the same thing, the dinner party tonight. That was all she allowed herself to conclude, exhaling slowly and feeling the relaxation take over. But then she opened her eyes, and her heart started racing once more.

Wearing his official captain’s uniform which consisted of a blue jacket with his medals, a white shirt and a dark blue tie underneath the jacket, and neatly ironed pants with a matching color. His broad shoulders looked even bigger under this fancy clothing, his biceps that did not appreciate being covered stretching the materiel to its limits, and his muscular chest standing even more out under that white shirt.

(Y/N) knew her cheeks were rosy already, as she swallowed the saliva that accumulated in her mouth, trying to calm her hands from shaking and greet the captain properly. She tried to bow, but a warm feeling on her shoulder that was exposed because of her strapless cocktail dress and a firm but gentile pressure made her stand back up straight. Obi’s palm was now resting on her delicate skin, not moving it even after he made his point about No need to bow thing.

“(Y/N)..you look..lovely.”- he said every word slowly, carefully, like he himself is trying to get accustomed to them. He wanted to say so much more, but even with his new born bravery and dedication of accepting how he feels about her, he knew they were not alone and from what he gathered, (Y/N) only got more agitated when he tried to approach her in front other members. When they are alone, she runs, but when others are around, she is clearly upset. He pulled his hand back, hating the feeling of removing his skin from hers.

“Thank you Captain.”- she said restrainedly, again lowering her gaze, searching for the coverage of her hair falling over her face. She was trying to think of a way to end this conversation fast, excuse herself and go away to find safety by talking to someone else, but before she could muster any good ideas, Obi’s body got closer, almost towering over her. She rose her eyes quickly, widening them in shock as her eyes were locked on his, his face now inches away. Everything happened almost in slow motion, in her head this lasted for hours, when it was only for a brief moment, when he leaned, brushing his chest on her arm, reaching for a cup of punch on the table behind her. She did not even notice what he was actually doing, the closeness was too much for her. Her anxiety was through the roof, her breath shallow, and her mind blank when his enchanting perfume intoxicated her senses. All alarms in her head started screaming and echoing in her head, her feet shivering as she choked on her own whines. How weak he made her, how insanely fragile to his presence. She could not bear it, this fight in a ring can only be won by one and it is always him. She needed to escape once again, as her eyes filled with tears.

“Excuse me.”- a muffled sound escaped her lips as she rushed past him, dodging the gaze of everyone in the garden and walking as fast as she could to the bathroom.

She splashed cold water on her flustered face. The pea-sized drops rushed down her cheek to her neck, as (Y/N) shivered under the icy feeling. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, as the salty tears now combined with water on her skin, mildly covering her real state. This got out of hand, she knew it from the moment she started to giggle and feel butterflies in her stomach every time he spoke to her. She should have dealt with it right then and there, not let it go so far that she can’t stand being around him no more. Nothing stings harder than forbidden love, and at least now she can admit it to herself, speak plainly in her own mind. She will have to quit, leave this place and these people she already considered family behind just to spare them of her unprofessional behavior and her betrayal, falling for a man that is her commander.

This is how it is meant to be…there is nothing I can do about it no more…it is written in the stars..

She could swear in that moment her heart broke in half. She could feel the meat of the muscle that gives you life slowly splitting in the middle.

“Why do you always run away?”- a deep whisper echoed the on the bathroom tiles. In that voice pain was hearable, deepness of the emotion that was buried somewhere for too long. (Y/N) turned just to face him once again, but this time she had no strength for pretending, she just turned her head to hide her tears and said in a whiny voice:

“Please Captain, I want to be alone.”- seeing her like this made Obi almost lose the ground under his feet. His protective instinct made him rush to her, but just before his reaching hand touched her, he stopped, realizing that his sudden movements made this to happen. He tried but never actually said it out load, to be clear. He took a deep breath, fighting the need to wrap his hands around her fragile body and hold her tight until the first morning light comes, shows her how he wants to be the one who protect her from harm, not the one causing it.

“The truth is, I am not feeling well lately..so I need your help.” – hearing this words from him made something in (Y/N) to snap. Her doctor side drilled its way up to the surface and concern for his well being took the lead. She turned, facing him with her cheeks painted with dark stains of her mascara.

“What happened? Are you in pain? When did it start?”- she started to check him with her eyes, looking for some kind of a injury, but there was nothing.

“You can’t see it from outside..It started 10 months ago, one morning, and I’ve been worse ever since. I’ve been distracted, and I can’t do it no more.”- he said clenching his fists. Her vision got blurry from the tears still being in there, but they did not fall. She listened, squeezing her lips in a straight line.

“I am in love with you, (Y/N). From the moment you took a turn on the street and walked in our company.” – his tensed muscles suddenly relaxed, like a huge weight have been lifted of his shoulders.

“I need to know do you feel the same, because I can’t stand to see you dodging me with any chance you got. Don’t think I did not notice. If you don’t want me, I will sto…”

“It is not that I don’t want it! I just..We..we can’t..”- her voice shattering like glass, barely managing to finish her sentences.

“Why?! Why do you think we can’t?”- Obi tried to stay calm, but being unable to hold her close, and hearing that she feels the same way but is denying it , got him close to the edge.

“Because you are my captain, and I am your subordinate! It is unethical! No one would understand!”- she screamed, unleashing the suffering she held inside, the opinion that tortured her, the fear of the judgment from others.

“So?! That are only useless titles! Worthless positions!”- he took one step closer unnoticed, slowly narrowing the space between them.

“No one would approve…I am not the one for you.”- she sniffled, trying to wipe away the rolling tears with a shaking hand, again crumbling under the feeling of a breaking heart.

“Because you are the one for me, I am willing to risk everything else. I don’t care if I have to resign, I don’t care what people would say…only thing I do care about it you.”- this time he knew it was not a dream, and there is nothing that could hold him back now. His hands landed on her thin waist, pulling her on him. She gasped as she crashed on his chest, feeling so small and fragile under him.

“Capt..”- her words have been shushed when his lips crashed on hers. The hungry mouth kissed her like she was his food and water and he was walking starved in the desert for decades. (Y/N) had her eyes half opened, looking how angelic face holds the expression of relief and happiness, the feelings that now consumed him when he finally tasted his forbidden fruit. His soft lips shifted on hers, opening them slowly as his tongue started to explore her mouth, finding hers and traveling along its surface, starting an erotic dance between their mouths. She let herself go, feeling how her feet became numb, her body screaming for him and wants to pull his huge one closer like a magnet. His wide palms shifted along her waist, squeezing it, exploring her shape along her back and down to her hips, sinking his fingers in the tender flesh.

“O-obi.”- she moaned between kisses, sinking her nails in his chest, feeling how adrenaline flows through her, giving herself to him to the fullest. His hands sifted a bit more, cupping her ass and lifting her up on the sink, opening her legs with his knee and shattering the space between them once more and he pushed himself on her.

“I want you (Y/N). I need you.” – he whispered, kissing her jaw, licking his way down to her collarbone. She moaned his name wrapping her thighs around him. His fingers found their way to the zipper of her dress along her ribs, pushing it down slowly. But before he lowered it, he tilted his head up, gazing at her, looking for permission. She blinked with her dark lashes, as she nodded , biting her lip. He gripped her with more force, barely controlling his wild desire. He bit the materiel of her cocktail dress, pulling it down from her bust. A dark lace bra without stripes held her tits with little force, making them almost fall out without him even touching them, but he did not plan to wait for that to happen. He unbuckled the buckle in the middle, releasing her breasts.

Seeing her big soft flesh bare in front of him made his hardened member swell a bit more. He placed her delicate nipple between his teeth ,pulling slowly then mending it with his kiss and tongue, while the other breast was squeezed with his hand. He played with the doughy flesh, making his fingers skin deep in and his grip got harder, placing the nipple between his fingers and pinching it, making (Y/N) to cry out his name while he was working both of her nipples with his talent.

She tasted good as she smelled. The minty scent filled his nostrils, making him inhale more deeply to catch every bit of it. The sensitive nipples were somehow sweet, brushing against the smooth surface of his tongue. He sucked harder, lifting the other one he had in his hand and pulling the delicate spot in the same time as he bit the other nipple. (Y/N) felt her juices soaking her black thong, how her fingers intertwined with his dark brown hair , pulling him closer, wanting him to devour her more. But he was hungry for something else. Still massaging her breast, he lowered his head down, kissing along her belly while pulling her dress down off her with his free hand. The lower he got, the wider did (Y/N) spread her legs.

Her sexual instinct made her open up for him like a flower bud, giving him access to her most intimate parts. He waste no time, removing the panties to the side, letting the heat of her soaked hole hit his face. He licked his lips on the sight ahead, slowly gathering the icing from her folds with the tip of his tongue. When she felt his tender muscles playing around her pussy, she cried out louder, giving her best to stay at least a bit quiet, but he did not make that job easy. He stuck his tongue deeper between her folds, licking her slit up and down, growling quietly from the satisfaction.

“You are delicious…much better than how I dreamed you would be..”- he murmured before shoving his tongue inside her, pumping it in as deep as he could reach, while teasing her clit with his index finger, pushing the nerve button tenderly as he fucked her with his tongue, while the juices smeared around his lips.

“D-Don’t say such things…”- she said biting on her knuckles, trying to suppress the lewd sounds coming from her mouth.

“But you are (Y/N). Your little pussy taste so good. I want to eat it whole.”- he whispered, as his voice sent vibrations along her delicate flesh, making her legs shiver. She could feel the tension building in her stomach, the feeling of sweet release coming closer. He sucked in her pussy lips along with her clit before shoving his tongue back between her velvety walls, returning both of his hand to her tits, pinching her nipples and pulling them hard. Her climax kicked in and she covered her mouth to hide the whiny sound of her orgasm, but Obi was quicker, grabbing her wrists and pulling them off her mouth.

“No. I want to hear you cum (Y/N).”-he twisted her nipple lightly, grabbing the whole breast with it and massaging it in fast motions while he licked her clit, making the electric feeling take over her body as she came and screamed his name as loud as she could. Her head started falling down, but Obi was ready to catch her, picking her up once more and carrying her to the wall. He pinned her bare back on the cold tiles, as the icy feeling against her skin get her a bit more concentrated after that wild orgasm.

“I will fuck you now baby.”- he pressed his lips on her, as she heard a sound of him unzipping his pants. She did not even have the chance to see what was coming, when she felt a light sting between her legs. She tried to relax her muscles to make the huge thing come in smoothly, but even that and her juices did not help. Obi’s rock hard length stretched her like nothing before, barely managing to fit in. She buried her head in his muscular shoulder as he continued to slowly push it.

“You are so tight baby..Fuck..”- he forced his way in, enjoying the clenching of her inner walls around his throbbing cock.

“O-obi …it is too big.”-she gasped for air, feeling overly opened.

“You are doing great baby..”- he whispered before jerking his hips upward, filling her to the end with his dick. His base hit her folds, as he stand still for a moment to let her get used to his size, then he started moving. Rocking his hips back and forth, harder, making (Y/N) to scratch his back under his shit while she moaned uncontrolably.

“Damn…you are perfect…you have no idea how many times I imagined this..how long I waited..”- he gasped his words, hitting hard between her shaky legs, as her lower back slammed on the tiles. He grabbed her ass cheeks and slammed her on his dick while he still drilled his way in, in the same time, lowering his head and starting sucking on her tits, leaving reddish marks all over her bust, sucking the flesh with passion, making his way down to her nipple, just to suck on it as he did on now swollen places before.

His thrust became shallow, faster, as he chased his orgasm. His fast hits just made her already overly stimulated clit to send more electric waves along her spine, filling her with another adrenaline rush, going back down to her lower parts and she felt she will cum one more time. The tone of her voice became higher, as she pulled him closer with her thighs. His stone hard biceps tensing as he murmured her name in her ear.

“Fuck..I will..I will cum (Y/N).”- he murmured around her nipple as he slammed wildly in her cunt, making the last hit harder than any before, nailing her to the wall as he filled her with his cum. She felt the warm feeling in the lower part of her belly, knowing how he is pumping her womb with his sperm. He pulled out gently, still holding her on the wall. His seductive smile and gentile eyes now focused on her, brushing his nose on hers.

“Please, never run away from me again. “- he asked, voice filled with emotions.

“I won’t.”- she said with teary eyes. His soft lips once again found hers, locking this promise and rewriting the faith written in the stars.

#Fire force #Obi akitaru #enen no shouboutai #obi akitaru x reader #fire force #obi akitaru

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1-800-channie · 3 years

Text

Guardian Angel

PAIRING | Angel Chan & Female Reader

GENRE | Cute / Angst / Suggestive

TYPE | Long Fiction

WC | 5000+ Words

SUMMARY | “After suffering more than you could handle, God sends you a heaven made gift. He sent you a Guardian Angel. His name is Christopher Bang Chan and he is the most handsome creature you have ever laid your eyes on. Will you be able to live with him everyday without any kind of second thoughts? Will Chris be able to take care of you without falling for you? Something tells me that it won’t be. But if, the both of you fall in temptation, there is a punishment that will hurt more than death.”

[Part 1] [Part 2]

(100 Days Left)

Not everyone deserves to have someone look after them. Someone ideal who can prepare dinner after a long day of work, or someone who understands how you feel and will support you no matter what. Surely you weren't one of those people.

God always had his eye on you, especially considering you constantly prayed to him in tears, imploring him to support you in some way. You were extremely exhausted from all the crimes that occurred in your life. The cross was excessively heavy for you; your wasted body couldn't take it anymore.

It all happened on a rainy night. You were working on a recent design for a client. Your body felt all worn out from serving all night and day at the restaurant. Your eyes were burning though you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, not when the design was turning out so well.

As you looked out the sliding window, you noticed that it was raining. The chilly raindrops caused an aesthetic feeling that helped you feel inspired. The only light inside your apartment was from the laptop you were currently using. Outside however, the only source of light you saw was the stroke of lightning from the dark sky that alarmed you.

Ever since you were a young girl you had a fear of lightning. However, now that you were an adult, you couldn’t let it distract you no more, you had to continue working. You did your best to ignore the strokes of lightning outside as you continued to distract yourself for a little longer.

As your eyes carefully analysed the finished product, your mind wandered somewhere else. You remembered how you used to live in your hometown with your parents in a humble environment while working on a company of Web Design, something you studied for. The boss loved your hardworking and creative self. Therefore, when he got the chance, he gave you the main seat at the table of the company, in Seoul.

In about a month or so you moved to the massive city of Seoul. It was unusual for you, so many people and so much noise. It was recent, but after some time you became used to the weirdness. You lived in a magnificent apartment, five minutes away from work, which was thankfully paid for by the company.

Everything was going completely fine until the boss invested in the wrong company. When that company went down, the company you were working for also went down, causing your boss to be bankrupted.

That's when your world came crashing down. You lost the apartment you were staying in because it was way too overpriced for you to afford alone, and you didn't even have a place to work. To make things worse, your parents were going through a tough time back in your hometown, and you had sent them the money you had saved, leaving you with just a couple hundred dollars.

You were alone and lost in an enormous city. You had no place to sleep or work. You felt miserable and lost as you cried yourself to sleep for several days, sleeping on some cardboards that the people were throwing away.

You were tired of sleeping on the ground, on the fourth day, you summoned up some unknown energy and went to a public bathroom, where you showered and prepared yourself to find a new job.

You spent all day running around, walking from coffee shop to coffee shop. From one restaurant to another. By seven your body was exhausted. Especially because you didn't eat all day, so you sat down on the road.

Finally the answer to your prayers were heard. An elderly lady saw you miserably sitting down on the dirty ground and helped you walk inside her small restaurant. It smelled of rice cakes and kimchi and you liked it.

The eldery woman’s name was Kim Sohyun and she was eighty years old. But don’t be fooled by her age, she was fast and didn't stop moving. She always found something to do at the restaurant, even when it was as empty as a parking lot at night. Out of genuine kindness, she gave you some food and a place to stay. The apartment you stayed in was from her daughter that left Korea to go abroad and never talked to her mom again.

After that day, you took care of that adorable lady, learned how to cook and even started cleaning for her.

You smiled at the thought of the lady Kim Sohyun. As your mind came back to the present when you read the name of the person that asked you for the design, you got shy. He is a starting rapper by the name of Changbin. He had pretty brown eyes and a cute laugh that made your heart flutter.

When he told you he trusted you with his first album cover design you hugged him tightly, which caught him off guard, but he didn't mind. Not when it came to you. Changbin was around for a while before asking you to work for him. He knew your story, and you knew his.

A sudden loud bang echoed inside your silent apartment shocking you.Then suddenly everything was dark. It took you a while to recognize what happened, but as soon as you noticed that the power went off panic took over your small body.

Your computer is quite old and only works plugged to the electricity. Since the power went off, it means your computer is dead. Tears started to form at the corners of your exhausted eyes... All the work you already had done… Was gone.

The design you had been working on for days was totally gone.

You fell on your knees on the wood floor violently. Your frame curled up in a ball as you sobbed quietly, trying your best not to be too noisy and scare Lady Sohyun that is sleeping.

Now the only sounds audible from the inside were your sobs, and from the outside, the rain that started to calm down.

God, decided to reward you from being loyal and strong and sent someone to save you.

You didn't see it, but it was something so magical and special. There was an angel standing in front of you. His body was muscular and well proportioned, radiating light.

You noticed something was wrong from all the sudden brightness that escaped from between your fingers as you covered your eyes. And just like the curiosity killed the cat, you screamed so loud that you are afraid it woke half of the city.

In front of you, there was an absurd creature. His body was perfectly built, muscles visible on his pale body. His face was so magical that you were afraid that you had died and went to paradise. Golden hair, gloomy eyes, plump crimson lips, and a prominent nose. His frame was only covered by a thin cover that went from his shoulder to his waist, secured by a charming gold belt. His feet bare.

“What-what are you doing here?” You question getting off the wooden floor and taking a few steps back, startled.

“I'm your guardian angel, YN.” The creature explains, his voice low and noble. “Don’t be afraid…I'm here to take care of you.”

You stare at him with burning cheeks and uncertain eyes. Curiosity consuming you alive. You walk towards him slowly. He was so pure and bright, almost unreal. Something heaven-made.

“Can I touch you?” You ask innocently, just to make sure he is real.

“Go ahead, YN-ah.” The angels respond with a genuine smile.

Your fingertips were trembling as you caressed his cheek. The angel flinched because of your cold fingertips, scaring you for a few moments. His skin was silky and he felt genuine. His hair was also soft, but a bit dry and he smelled like nature. The scent was so different that you couldn't explain it. It prompted you with comfort.

“Oh my…” You confessed impressively. “I don’t have money to buy you food, and I don't have a place for you to sleep in… I'm sorry. I think you should go back to… hm… Heaven?” You say, confused. The beautiful angel laughs.

“YN, I don’t need to eat or sleep. I'm here to be your company, help you when you need it, take care of you.” Your mouth opens in a ‘O’ shape and you nod your head. Deep inside, you were still confused and uncertain.

“Hmmm, I think I'm going to sleep now. Could you, hm, not look at me? While I try to fall asleep?” Your cheeks were reddening again. The angel looks at you with love and accepts.

You lay down on your bed and cover your body, hiding completely. Your brain quickly tried to be reasonable and tells you that this was just a dream. Maybe you hit your head and passed out. Too scared to know the truth, you didn’t get out of the covers. As time slowly passed, you silently fell asleep.

It's cute how the next morning you wake up with your blankets almost falling off the bed and an amazing smell of eggs, toasts, and pancakes.

That's odd. Miss. Kim Sohyun never prepared your breakfast before.The weirdest thing was she didn't have these kind of ingredients. As you walked to the small kitchen, yawning and gently rubbing your sleepy eyes, there was a bare back facing you. You screamed, startled.

“Oh, good morning Y/N, did you sleep well?” The man asked, placing a glass of orange juice on the table.

“I thought it was all a dream…” You said to yourself, facing the floor, twisting your hair in annoyance.

“It’s not. I’m here to take care of you…” You stared at him, seriously. That was the first time he made your heart flutter.

After ten awkward minutes of him washing the dishes that were on the sink from yesterday, curiosity took the best of you:

“What's your name, Angel?” You asked, admiring his sturdy back. He laughed silently, then he jerked his head towards you.

“Oh right, how impolite. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Christopher Bang Chan. I’m a mixture of Korean and Australian. I was moving to Korea when the plane I was in had a problem and crashed. I died there, I was twenty years old. This is why I still look like this and not older.” The last part, he narrated to you while facing the plates he was washing, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm so sorry…” You said in a low voice.

"It 's ok love. Everything happens for a reason…” Christopher says with a tender smile. “Now” He started talking again, finishing up with the plates. “You go to take a shower, and then get ready to work, I’ll clean the kitchen.” You looked at him surprised but did as he said.

“Wait, what will you do all day?” You asked, interested.

“I'll clean your house, try to fix your computer and then pray. Don’t worry about me, ok?” You nodded again, trying to be obedient.

( 90 Days Left)

As time went by you bought him some ‘human’ clothes, so he looked ordinary and you could walk around with him by your side. Chris, as you like to call him, looked handsome on the outfits you carefully pick him.

The truth was that his presence was now normal to you. Every time you opened your door, you greet the charming Angel, that's usually in the modern kitchen, cooking you dinner. Usually, after dinner, you washed the dishes while you obligated him to sit down and rest for a bit.

( 80 Days Left)

After a tedious day of work, you ate a delicious dinner and went straight to the bathroom to take a warm shower. When you were done, you sat comfortably on your downy bed while Chris brushed your hair. Usually while he did it, you informed him about your day, and today was no different. As his bony fingers grazed over your scalp trying not to willingly hurt when he was brushing harder, you eagerly told him about Changbin.

“He may seem to be a bit mean at first. He always wears black clothes… his makeup is always perfectly made. I'm jealous sometimes. His voice is nice because he can make it deep and serious or high pitched and girly to piss me off.” You giggled while remembering Binnie’s jokes from that today.

“That man seems important to you…” Chris stated with a gentle smile, even though something sparkled inside him. Could he be jealous of that man for being so close to you?

“Hmmmm, not as important as you.” You say positively and then turn your body so you could confront the timid boy sitting in the middle of your bed.

Chris looked at the white blanket that was resting on his legs as he played with his fingers. Did you just say that? Is he that important to you? The Angel was biting his bottom lip nervously. His heart was racing like crazy and you could almost hear it calling your name.

You moved closer to him, enough so when you extended your arm, your soft hand would cup his cheek. Chan immediately stared at you, trying to understand what were you going to do next.

A voice in your head woke you up and made you pull your hand away, suddenly feeling shy. Maybe Chris can’t feel love for someone, maybe not the same way humans do. And you were afraid of scaring him. An uncomfortable silence involves the both of you and you sign, closing your eyes and trying to calm down the urge to cry.

The truth is he makes you feel some type of way. His eyes seem to light up and turn brighter every time he sees you. Chris would carefully listen to all your complaining or sad words. His lips would turn to an adorable pout when you were bossing him around. His hugs were warm and safe, and you felt protected on them. His laugh was so innocent and contagious and also mentioning he has such a pure heart, filled with love only. The angel made you feel special and loved… You were getting attached to it.

You didn't want to admit it to him or yourself. Maybe you were starting to feel something for him. It was wrong. You and he could never be together, because he was your guardian angel, not your lover.

“I think… I'll go to sleep.” You said after being lost on your melancolic thoughts for too long.

“Oh, hm, ok… But you seem sad. What's wrong?” Chan politely questioned while getting off the comfy bed so you could lay down. Your hands felt unsteady, your stomach was aching in an unusual way.

“Nothing you can fix.” You coldly explained, intentionally trying to push him away. You needed some time alone.

“Oh… Ok. I'll be praying in the kitchen if you require me.” Chris winks at you. “Good Night, Love.” You bite your lip to stop the tears from slipping out. That damn nickname.

You tried to sleep. You did, but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn't stop thinking about his lips. Chris's lips were so plump and inviting, they seemed so soft and plush, so kissable…

Chan peaked at you, and noticed how restless you were, he approached you:

“Y/N, let me try to help you. Please, you don’t need to talk about it. I'll just be there for you.” The Angel insists, sitting by your side on your bed.

“Ok ok… I only accept because it's hard for me to sleep, and I have work tomorrow.” You finally gave in. Chan felt grateful, this was something he wanted for a while and was too shy to ask you.

You lay down on the bed again, closing your eyes and snuggling inside the warm covers. Chris was shy, but it was worth it. Chan lays down on the bed, under the covers and gets closer to you. Uncertain. His arm rested on your waist as he pushed you a little further against his chest.

Chan wanted to cuddle you. You smiled as an adorable blush painted your cheeks. He was warmer than the heavy covers, his embrace so safe and comfortable that you never wanted him to leave.

The Angel was feeling the same, shy but happy. Your body felt so tiny between his protective arms. He desperately wished to hold you forever because, somehow, you felt like home. Chan was scared, afraid of how he was starting to feel for the charming girl he had to look after. He loves to admire the way your smile gets wider when he makes a joke; how you get mad at him when he does everything at home alone and how pretty you look without even trying.

What if he fell for you?

( 70 Days Left)

“Chris come here…” You whined in the bathroom, your bandana was stuck in your hair and if you tried to pull it, it would most likely rip all your hair off.

The tall man came inside the bathroom in a rush, worried that something may have happened to you.

“What’s wrong, Love?” His melodious voice asked, admiring your grumpy face that reflected on the small, old mirror.

“My hair is tangled, and it hurts if I pull it. Please, help me.” You begged with puppy eyes, noticing how he changed from worried to relaxed in seconds.

The Angel walked behind you, and his slender fingers started to work on your messy hair. You could feel the warmth his body was radiating from behind you. His smell changed, because he was now using your body wash and shampoo. The smell of vanilla was amazing, you liked it in your skin, but when it came to him… It was special.

Chris was shaking, his fingers were uncertain and trembling. His breathing was uneasy and his legs felt like jelly. He could notice easily how you were biting your bottom lip, a cute pink blush on your cheeks and every time his fingers brushed against your sensitive neck, a long breath would leave your sensual lips.

The atmosphere inside the bathroom was starting to heat up, both of you not being able to control their body language and it was obvious. So obvious that both of you were crazy in love with each other.

“Done…” He said, his voice loud but shaky. Chris immediately called himself stupid for showing you that he is feeling flustered, but you just give him a soft smile and turned around, taking your bandana out of his hands and getting out of the bathroom in a rush, trying to calm yourself down.

You walked close to your window and opened it, feeling the cold breeze hitting your face and calming your heated body. Your heart was beating fastly and you were too timid to look Chris in the eyes.

The way he made you feel is not possible, you can’t feel like that. Though his eyes were so pretty, his lips were so inviting and his heart was pure gold… How could you stop yourself from feeling that way? A sudden call for your name made you come back to reality.

You walked to the front door and opened it. The kind woman that gave you a shelter was there, with a light mad expression:

“My oven is a mess, Hun, i didn't want to bother you on a Sunday but i need help with it.” She explained shaking her head in disappointment. “Could you please get downstairs and clean it?” She asked, her voice hopeful.

“Yes, i can do it. Give me just five minutes and i'll be there.” You smiled politely, she took your hands in hers and smiled, secretly, she was very grateful for you.

You got back inside the small place and called for Chris. He showed up with red eyes, like he was crying but he simply smiled at you, while making you sign with his hand for you to go help Miss Sohyun.

You did so, your heart beating fast once again, but this time because you know, something was up with the angel and you know he will never tell you what's wrong.

( 60 Days Left)

Some days passed by and you and Chris slept in the same bed together every day. Even him, that affirmed he didn't need to sleep, would get lost in your warmth and fall asleep. Cute little snores invading the bedroom and you couldn't stop giggling, from how precious he looked.

As your eyes scanned your window you noticed that outside was dark, despite being 9 am, it was raining. The heavy raindrops were hitting your window in the most deliciously, making you feel lazy. You looked back at Chris one last time and got off the bed, ready to prepare him a surprise for the first time.

At the kitchen you heated some milk and prepared some toasts that you filled with Nutella. You also picked up some grapes, just how you know he liked it. After a couple of minutes, everything was prepared on the table. There was: a candle with no smell lighted; some white napkins; the amazing toasts with Nutella; the grapes were washed and fresh; and the chocolate was already on the milk, turning out to warm chocolate what you know he will love.

You walked back to your bedroom to find him sleeping on his back, his face turned to the left as his hands rested inside his t-shirt, making it rise and show his toned chest. Immediately you blushed but weren't able to take your eyes out of him. You blamed the covers because they were all messy at the bottom of the bed.

“Chris~” You whispered, sitting next to his body on the bed. The angel just shifted a little in his sleep and reached out for you, pulling you by your waist to lay next to him.

You were biting your lip to stop the gasp that almost escaped your lips from the sudden action. The next thing he did was cling to you, one of his legs rested on top of yours and his head moved to rest on your collar bones, giving you access to his scalp easily.

Christopher was adorable, and you couldn't deny it, especially because he was making you feel things, things you couldn't explain. Your fingers started to massage his scalp and that woke him up.

“Keep doing that…” His lips escaped, but it sounded more like a moan. You continued it for a while, feeling him get relaxed under your touch. Softly you felt his fingers make subtle touches on your stomach, making goosebumps take over your body.

“Smells so nice… Did you prepare something?” He asked getting off of you. You pouted, feeling cold without his body there to warm you.

“Oh, yes. I made breakfast! I was almost forgetting about it!” You are the first to get out of the bed, and then grab gently his hand and pull him to the kitchen.

“Woah.” He gasped. “You didn't have to. You know i don't need to eat…” Chris reminded you, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh…” You said embarrassed. “I forgot it…” You looked at the floor, your anxiety eating you alive.

Chris walked silently towards you and, with his slender fingers, pushed your chin up. Causing you face him. Your eyes found his almost immediately and you found yourself blushing because of that simple action. In his mind, he would take you right there, kiss your lips and get rid of this stupid feeling consuming him every time he was close to you.

“What you did was sweet and i appreciate it, Love.” He whispered. “I will eat some because you made them with so much care, ok?” You nodded, too embarrassed to say anything.

Chris always does this, makes you hope he would finally make a move and then, he leaves you hanging.

( 50 Days Left)

It all started as a good day, the sun was shining brightly outside, besides the cold wind that made your hair a mess. Chris passed out next to you when you woke up, one of his legs still tangled with yours and his nose was close to your ear, making you hear his not-so-cute snores.

You decided to get up without bothering him, you ate something that was in your fridge and wrote him a small letter telling him not to prepare lunch because you weren't going to eat at home.

At work, Changbin was talking to you, and distracting you so much that you didn't notice the new couple that got inside the restaurant. Due to that they got mad for taking so long to take their order.

Of course, the old lady you work for was mad at you, and as a punishment prohibited Bin from coming to the restaurant for one week. You apologized with teary eyes, the guilt swallowing you alive. You stayed the rest of the day hidden inside the kitchen, as the old lady worked as a waitress today.

A cup accidentally slipped from your hand and broke into million pieces as it hit the floor.

She was mad at you again, telling you that she doesn't know what's up with you today, and she couldn't understand why you were so slow today. When she decided it was time to close the restaurant, you noticed it was raining outside.

Since you live just across the street you didn't mind it, but a car passed in front of you when you were sprinting home, making the water on the road hit you and go everywhere making you soaked.

The tears in your eyes were held back by your angriness, but as soon as you saw Chris' angelic face you broke down in tears on the spot. You fell on your knees while hiding your face between your hands.

“What's wrong, my love?” The Angel asked concerned, but you were too busy sobbing to answer him. “You’re soaked, what happened?”

This time you took a glance at him, red and puffy eyes.

“It was a car. As I was waiting to cross the street he passed on the splash on the street and soaked me from head to toe.”

Chris giggled little from your choice of yours but tried to hide his smile so you wouldn't feel bad.

“Come on, let's take a hot bath to make you feel better, alright?” You nodded, tiredly getting off of your knees and walking to your cold bathroom.

Chris started to take care of the water, letting it fill the bathtub as you stripped of your wet clothes.

“When you are done washing your body tell me because I'll be there to wash your hair and give you a light massage on the scalp and shoulders… ok-” He interrupted himself because on his way out of the bathroom he caught you only in your underwear. A blush decorated your face as his curious eyes stared at you shamelessly.

“Could you… hmm… stop… staring?” You awkwardly asked, trying to cover yourself.

“I'm sorry, you are beautiful. I couldn't contain myself.” He apologized, then shifted his gaze to his hands, too nervous to face you.

When he finally closed the door behind him you relieved a long sign. You got rid of your underwear quickly, and dived inside the warm water. As the sound of the rain outside reflected inside your small bathroom, you cried.

Your body was overwhelmed with so many emotions that you could not explain. Chris noticed your almost inaudible sobs and waited patiently until you calmed done to knock on the wooden door:

“May i come in? To wash your hair for you?” He asked in a low voice.

“Yes, you may.” You answered some minutes after, trying to calm your heartbeat down.

He was going to be washing your hair, as you stayed naked underwater. Chris gets inside without making any noise and knees down on the floor, in front of the bathtub as you let your back hit the board and force your head back, so he could have access to it.

The angel’s hands were magical and we're making you feel much better. The way he patiently washed your hair almost made you fall asleep on the spot. After your hair was clean, you strained your back and waited for him to pour water on you, so the shampoo would get off.

Chris was feeling something inside him he didn't know he could. He wanted to touch you, feel every inch of you under his fingertips. He wanted to kiss you passionately as his hands roamed over your beautiful body.

He was only facing your back, but he felt his body heat up and something getting weirdly hard on his pants. He had to ignore it? But the moan you left as soon as his fingers came in contact with your scalp once again made him call your name:

“Y/N, please. I can't take it anymore…” You turned off the water and turned around, not caring about him being able to see your chest, that had some shampoo on them.

“Chris, i can't do this either…” You whispered, staring at him in the eyes.

Even though his body was screaming for him to look at your nude chest, he kept eye contact with you as he got closer to you. It was now or never, the perfect moment to kiss you.

Christopher’s lips were softer than you thought, and you wanted to bite them. His heart-shaped lips molded perfectly with yours and complimented them.

They were pressed up against yours on a long peck that made you frustrated. So, tired of it, you grabbed his face between your small hands and forced him stronger against your mouth. Chan seemed to get the message, and his tongue came in contact with your bottom lip, trying to deepen the kiss.

When you finally felt his tongue against yours you moaned shamelessly, to lost in the feeling to care. He felt perfect for you, he felt like he was made for you… Why did you hold back, when you could have been kissing these lovely lips every day, all day?!

Your lips parted because of the absence of oxygen, and the smile that was displayed on his lips made your heart flutter. Something inside you yelled that he may feel the same for you, from more crazy that it seems.

“I'll wait for you in the kitchen, ok Love?” The Angel suddenly asked, getting up. He was trying his hardest to avoid your chest, but it was stronger than him. Chan got a glimpse of them as he closed the door, but it was enough to make the situation even harder for him.

What both of you didn't know is that what is given, can be taken back as well. Since the both of you committed a sin, The Gifter couldn't be more sure that he had to make the angel stay away from you as soon as possible.

A/N: Hello beautiful Stars! I know it's been a while, but I am back. Since I'm starting all over again, I decided to make a special first post. This fic was resting in my drafts all year, unfinished.

I finally finished it and I'm very happy for finally posting it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved to write it.

Before I go, I need to give a special thanks to @xiaojunssmile for helping me revising my work. I appreciate you a lot, you are the best. I love you ❤

Rebloggs, likes and comments are always appreciate it. Thank you.

Happy 2021. I hope your new year comes with Heath and lots of love ❤✨

#stray kids #kpop #bang chan #chan #stray kids chan #chris bang #stray kids bang chan #bang chan smut #leader chan #skz chan

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

Text

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 4)

A/N: here we go with yet another part of this series! Tomorrow I will be posting another fic with a certain loveable character, but V will still be given the love and appreciation he so deserves.

TW: Sexual assault Attempt:

“You want me to do what?” It was barely 8:30 am; the sun had grazed you with its warm embrace. “Ah, you’re up early,” V had remarked once he heard you shuffle into the kitchen. His trademark apron was tied snugly around his waist. You grumbled in reply and begrudgingly sat down in a kitchen chair. A mug of coffee had slid your way. It was delicious. V shifted foot to foot as he stood there in the kitchen. You didn’t think V could ever be sheepish, let alone nervous. “It’ll be fine, my dear. All you have to do is follow my lead.” You drummed your fingers on the table as you stared up at the smiling mask looking down at you. Even though you couldn’t see V’s face you knew he was hopeful. “Alright V, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” V’s hands clasped together, enthused. “Aha! Thank you mademoiselle, I appreciate it!You can trust me;danger will not whisk you away from my grasp.” You hated how chirpy he sounded as he prattled on about his plans. V’s voice sounded muddled as he chatted excitedly. You rubbed your temples with the tips of your fingers. “It’s not even ten,” you muttered.

The face that stared back at you was unrecognizable. The mirror mocked you as you sat there, gazing at the new face in front of you. V had twirled the chair around in front of the mirror, the counter filled with makeup and brushes. You were surprised that he had makeup, considering he wore the guy fawkes mask 24/7. “Do you not like it, my dear?” You snapped from your thoughts as you turned to your masked friend. “It’s not that I hate it, just not my style.” You gestured to the pink blush and bright pink lipstick V had painted onto your face. “I’m used to a more natural look, or with the winged eyeliner I usually wear.” V chuckled, “You dislike looking like a little girl.” “Can you blame me,” you huffed. “You are very good with makeup though, I’ll give you that V.” He thanked you while he pinned the pink bows in your pig tails. You suppressed a shiver as his gloved fingers brushed over your neck lightly. Stop it! Focus on the task at hand! You definitely did not blush when his chest rested against your back as he pinned the last bow to your head. “Funny how this guy is a priest and a pedophile. Two birds with one stone,” you joked, trying to calm yourself down. “The world won’t surely miss him when he’s gone,” V replied as he stepped back. His fingers hovered over your shoulder, almost as if he wanted to gently brush them across your skin. Through the mirror you could tell V was staring at you. It was silent for a few moments as the two of you held each other’s gaze. “D-do you know what I’m gonna wear,” you stammered, breaking the silence. You hoped to god V didn’t notice that you were blushing, if he did he didn’t he say anything. “Ah yes,” he said, “You’re going to love the costume, too.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m dying to find out.”

You fiddled with the hem of the dress as you waited for the priest to enter. V wasn’t kidding about the dress. The skirt was wide and very pink. The only thing you liked about it was the white blouse and the short lace socks you wore with the pink maryjanes. Nerves jumped inside of your stomach. What if this all went wrong? You felt sick as you waited for the damn guy to get in here. You shuddered at what the assistant or chapel dude had said (like you would know what he did.) “You’re much older than expected. It should be fine, you look young enough.” You almost gagged when those words came out of his mouth. But you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster and a gritted “thanks.” His eyes swept over you one more time before leading you to a room with a four poster bed. Regret washed over you;you regretted agreeing to help V with this...particular task. “All will be fine mademoiselle. I promise.” His words rang in your head along with the instructions he had gone over with you. Yes, you felt guilty for having to live off of him for so long and disrupting his peace, but death didn’t seem terrible as you stood there in the priest’s room. “It’s the least we can do,” you reassured yourself. “For V.” The white walls of the room were bare; not a single decoration of some kind hanging on the walls. It was incredibly boring. Your eyes followed the dried paint on the walls. The strokes of the brush made little swirls and intricate, abstract designs. Has it been 5? 10? 20 minutes? Do I sit on the bed? Do I just stand here like an idiot? No matter how much you hated standing there, you knew if V asked you anything you would do it in a heartbeat. ‘Darling, would you mind handing me the rag?’ ‘Would you mind holding this fabric up for me?’ ‘Mademoiselle, could you risk your life for me and die by my hand?’ You snorted at the last one. Even if V were to ask that, you would. It’s because we have a crush. “No, no we don’t, shut up shut up shut-” The door swung open and you immediately tensed up. Relax, get in tune, V will protect us. An older balding man stood in front of you. His robes reached to the floor and he had beady eyes that looked black. God was he ugly. You felt disgusted as his eyes raked over your body. The gleam in his eyes made you feel sick.

Good thing father taught me to be an A class liar. “Hello, sir.” You gave him a smile;your eyes looked all innocent and doelike. Your lips parted as you spoke. Don’t over do it, be innocent and childlike. It makes me feel gross for thinking that. You averted your gaze, trying to pass it off as looking shy. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “I can’t believe I doubted your beauty for a second.” Forcing a smile you whispered, “Thank you, sir.” The priest’s eyes seemed to gleam at that. “So polite.” He slowly strolled over to you like he would to a scared child (the thought of that made you feel sick). His slimy hand grabbed your arm; his grip was tight as he looked into your eyes. “Go on, get on the bed.” You gulped as he let go of your arm. “Yes sir.” You felt terrified at the sound of the door closing and the click of a lock. You sat at the end of the bed, your legs pressed together. An ugly smile graced his lips as he saw you. You noticed the tent in his pants and wanted to puke.

Everything happened so fast. One minute he was at the door and the next he pounced on you. You let out a shriek as your back hit the bed. The priest’s body was pressed up against yours. His hands traveled down your waist, to your legs. They ghosted up your smooth thighs and up to your panties. “N-no,” you yelped, squirming under his body. Where the hell was V? Everything felt hazy and unreal. It was almost dreamlike as you laid there at this creep’s mercy. This can’t be happening, this isn’t real. Where the fuck is V? Squirming, you tried to throw the priest off of you but to no avail you were stuck. “You’re going to take what I give you and you will like it,” the priest snarled, “stop moving bitch.” His grip was like iron; his hands had wrapped around your throat, squeezing in tightly. Your lungs burned as they begged for air. Hands creeping up to his, you tried tugging at them to let them go. It was no use. Circles and staticky designs danced around the air. The vision in your eyes was starting to darken and the priest’s fingers had started to ghost over the waistband of your underwear. You were pinned underneath him,helpless. There was a wolfish grin on his lips. You were the wolf’s prey; a rabbit trying to wiggle underneath the wolf’s weight. He said he’d be here what the fuck happened? I’m gonna get taken advantage of, I’m going to die. He said he’d protect me, he said-

Bang! Bang! CRASH! The door smashed, pieces of its wood crashing onto the door. “What the-,” the priest shouted. There, V stood in the broken door way. His posture was tense and he searched for you as he stood there. V’s fist clenched and his blood boiled as he saw you under the priest. The look on your face had sheer terror written all over it. “It’s the terrorist!” The priest jumped off of you and ran towards a bible sitting on his dresser. Air filled your lungs and you hacked loudly. The burning in your chest and throat made you cough.Tears made your eyes blurry as they fell from your cheeks. Getting composed, you remembered where you were. Stop sitting there and move! Run! Your body was shaking with adrenaline and everything felt numb. You could hear grunts of pain from the direction where V and the priest was but you didn’t care. Tumbling off the bed you covered your face so you wouldn’t smack it against the floor. You sucked in a breath as your legs smacked onto the hard tile. Everything was burning. The ghost of the priest’s fingers burned your skin and you felt disgusted. You scurried onto your legs and watched as V flung a knife in the priest’s stomach, causing him to tumble over. A groan escaped the priest’s lips as he hunched over, holding his side. You admired V’s dance of knives as you watched him twirl another dagger with his fingers and slit the priest’s throat. His hands immediately flew up to his throat and his face paled. Blood gurgled out of his mouth until there was nothing but silence. The priest’s corpse fell with a thud and that is when V turned to you. “I apologize darling, I had some trouble along the way. He didn’t touch you did he?” Tears fell from your eyes;you looked like a mess. Your hair was tousled and your mascara left streaks on your cheeks. You just shook your head no, not trusting yourself to speak. “I-I wasn’t…” you trailed off after swallowing the tears and the huge lump in your throat. More tears fell from your eyes as you thought of the prospect of what if. What if V hadn’t shown up in time. What if he hadn’t even shown up at all. What if we were actually- A whimper escaped your lips as you tried your damned hardest not to sob.

V let out a sigh and enveloped you in his arms. He felt incredibly guilty he was a tad bit too late. Any later and well… V’s black tunic was damp from your tears. His hands hung low above your waist and your head nuzzling into his chest. His wig tickled you a bit but you didn’t mind. He was warm and comforting. V’s arms felt safe as he held you tightly. Giving you one last squeeze, he pulled away. Your red eyes stared back into the guy fawkes mask. How badly you wanted to kiss his lips. Or well, the mask’s at the very least. “Are you ready, mademoiselle,” V’s usually chipper voice sounding dark. Nodding, you wiped your eyes. “Let’s go home,” you whispered. V smiled underneath his mask. His gloved hand gently placed itself on your back as he led the way. How badly you wanted to melt into his touch. “To home, then.” Our home.

#v for vendetta x reader #v for vendetta #x reader

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personasintro · 4 years

Text

My Tiny Secret | 05; Name

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 05; Name

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: toxic relationship, mistress au, strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

unknown number: I think Yoojin is a beautiful name

You don't have to think about who sent you this message, knowing it could be only one person. One person whose number you blocked, but you're not surprised by the easiness of texting you despite of it. You blocked his number for a reason, a very specific one, but Kim Seokjin has no boundaries.

The message popped all of a sudden a day after you gave birth, along with congratulate messages you got from your family and friends. No one was supporting enough about your pregnancy and you know all those messages are genuine.

“You really need to give him a name. I'm kinda tired of calling him pumpkin.”

The gentle sound of Hoseok's voice leaves his lips as he holds your son in his arms, admiring the small baby in his hold. It was him who insisted of holding him and help him to sleep, claiming you need a rest. But you know he's already in love with him.

You glance at the message you haven't deleted yet, nor responded. It's not like you're planning on doing that. Yoojin. The name is cute and sounds beautiful, but once you actually realize it has 'Jin' in it, your mouth gets dry. Has he done it on purpose? Texting you a name which has some part of his own in it? He's ridiculous.

“Hey, what do you think about Yoojin?” you ask your best friend, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch beside you.

“Yoojin?” Hoseok asks, his heart-shaped lips slightly pouting as he curiously looks at you. He glances at the baby in his hold, smiling cutely at him before he nods along. “I think it suits him. It's nice.”

Standing up, you cringe at the slight throb between your legs since you're not completely healed from the labour. You just gave birth five days ago.

Hoseok eyes you carefully as if ready to stand up and help you, but you smile at him letting you know you're fine. You sit next to him, tucking a thin blanket from baby's chin to have a better look at him. He slightly squirms in Hoseok's hold but soundlessly continues to sleep.

Yoojin.

It really does suit him.

“How did it come up?” he asks softly, caressing your son's cheek with his point finger.

Gulping, you bite the inside of your cheek looking at your son. “I googled it.” you cringe at the lie coming straight out of your mouth.

And you feel bad to lie to Hoseok, that's the least he deserves. But it's coming from a good place with good intention. If Hoseok finds out the truth, that Seokjin contacted you and saw you other times than that one time you were shopping, he would flip out. He hates Seokjin's guts for valid reasons.

Hoseok has been always very protective of you and you can't imagine what he would do once he would found out. He would probably go to straight to his company, not caring about possible consequences of being throw out by Seokjin's security.

“You googled it?” he chuckles and for a second, you're scared he can see straight your lie. “Well, I was thinking more about some sentimental meaning behind the name, but I like it. It's really nice.” he jokes before a gentle smile settles on his lips.

“Yoojin.” you speak out softly, testing out the name loudly. Your son slightly moves with his tiny fingers with his eyes still closed, his mouth cutely pouting. You know he got them from him.

“I think he likes it.” Hoseok says and you snort.

“He doesn't even understands us.” you tell him with a chuckle at Hoseok's cuteness but he only scoffs in response, believing that your son hears you despite of his current state.

He's probably dreaming about your breast milk, your poor nipples are already so sensitive and cracked.

It feels unreal having a baby, an actual human being that you've to take care of. If it wasn't for Hoseok, you wouldn't be able to pay for all the baby's needs like stroller, crib or all the nappies.

It was only a couple of days after that you got more than interesting message.

'₩13000000,00 has been transferred to your account.'

Your eyes almost bulged out once you saw it. No, this can't be real. So you checked your bank account. It is real. You've never had that kind of money on your bank account, it's a lot.

You're not stupid. You know very well who could be able to send that kind of amount of money to your bank account. It surely isn't anyone from your family. And once you called to a bank, asking about information they confirmed it. Kim Seokjin sent you money.

So you asked Hoseok if he could watch Yoojin, which he gladly did. Of course, you never mentioned him those money. You will, once you'll solve it.

You need money. But not filthy ones and especially not from him. You could easily pay back to Hoseok with that amount, god, it would help your constant feeling of being burden so much. As much as Hoseok doesn't want you to pay him back, you have to. You've your own pride. And maybe that's the reason why you won't take those money. Because you've your pride. You won't let Seokjin control you while using the money to do it.

You never been to his company personally, his own house was the only place you both had your encounters. He tried to keep you away from his life as much as possible, that means not letting anyone know about you.

You're not surprised by the strict attire of all employees, wearing suits and dress shirt with pencil skirts. Trying to act as much natural as if you belong here, even though you're wearing just simple jeans with blouse that keeps your tendered breasts to breathe and not hurt that much, you successfully avoid to the receptionist behind the huge white desk. Luckily, she's on the phone with someone, so you got a chance to hide yourself if one of the elevators. You've no idea where you going, standing in an elevator with a man wearing, of course, a black suit. He taps into his phone while brief case in his other hand, while you nervously shift behind him.

“Do you know, by any chance, where Kim Seokjin's office is?” you ask him, your voice resounding against the metal walls of the elevator.

He looks up from the phone, his sharp eyes adverting to you as he eyes you for a moment. You think he's going to call a security, or whatever people here do when there is someone who isn't supposed to be here, before he answers.

“Top floor. At the end of the hall on the left side.”

“Thank you.”

Despite of your politeness, he doesn't say anything before he gets out of the elevator once it stops on sixth floor. The door closes behind him shortly after and you're left alone, letting out a shaky breath.

Fuck, why are you so nervous? You're going to kill that man. Why are you so nervous to face him?

Once you get to the top floor, which seems to be the busiest, you listen to the man's words and follow his instructions. You see couple of rooms with glass walls, seeing people having meetings. The place seems to be super busy but it holds this nice smell that you can't put your finger on. Everything looks expensive and modern and you know, this is where Seokjin comes from. This is his life. You were never part of that life, nor you will.

It's not that hard to find his office, the silver plate on the wall right next to door with 'CEO Kim Seokjin' written on it tells you you've found it. You ignore all the weird stares you get by the employees, probably wondering what a woman like you is doing here. So with a swift knock, you knock on his door listening patiently.

You were the one who decided to come here and confront him, but you wish he's having his late lunch break or whatever. Maybe you could leave and nobody would notice you--

“Come in.”

Fuck. It's his voice.

It seems hard and strong even through the barrier in form of black door, and your knees shake for a moment before you take a deep breath. This is it. You've to do this.

You snatch the door open, your figure barging in the huge room. It doesn't take a long for you to find him, sitting behind his desk with a few papers in his hands as he scans it before he's interrupted by the rude opening of the door. He looks up, his dark bangs pushed back showing his forehead as you immediately notice his plush lips contrasting with his honey skin.

He looks so much like Yoojin and you hate it. You hate that he's the father of your child. You hate that fact that Yoojin takes so much after his father. He's only two weeks old and he already looks so much like him.

Closing the door with a loud thud, you look back at him. His dark eyes are already soaking into yours, not really showing any emotion. If he's surprised, he's hiding it well.

“What are you doing here?” he asks lowly, speaking out first as you slowly walk up to his desk.

You ignore the way he stares at you, mostly feeling insecure. Your body isn't what it used to be, even though you can't even tell difference, as Hoseok says.

“Tables have turned, huh?” you can't help but chuckle bitterly, which he ignores and simply continues with staring at you.

So you open your bag, pulling out a couple of stacks of money, precisely wrapped as you throw it onto his desk.

“I know you're the one who sent me those,” you speak, raising your chin high while you're trying to hide your shaky hands. You give him a few seconds to deny it, but he doesn't and you know you've been right. He confirms your thoughts with silence, so you continue. “I don't want it. I don't need it.” you emphasize the word 'need'.

Does he think you're some charity case? As if he doesn't make you miserable and insecure enough.

“I could dispute about it,” he speaks, leaning against his chair confidently as he intertwines his fingers on his lap. “Did you seriously walk with those kind of money around city?”

You're taken back by that. Is that what he really cares about?

“Don't tell me you actually started to care about my safety.” you bitterly chuckle, finding that thought more than absurd and unrealistic.

He puts his mouth in straight line, your heart sinking down to your stomach and you don't even know. Why does he keep hurting you? Even with the smallest things.

“I sent you those money for our son.”

You grit your teeth at the mention of Yoojin.

“I told you--”

“I know what you told me,” he cuts you off, your mouth shuts right after once he speaks. “That doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you.”

You're speechless. Not in a good way though. He has the audacity to resists your words and wishes again.

“Listen,” he sighs, straightening up before he stands up. Your insides shakes once he stands tall behind the desk while buttoning up his suit. “I'm not going to give up. You can't take him away from me. I'm his father whether you like it or not. And we could do this the right way, or the rougher one.”

You gulp, a shiver creeping on your back as you lick your lips. “What do you mean?”

You probably got an idea, but you still have to ask.

“We'll make a deal, or I'm going to take this to court.” he speaks confidently, as if he absolutely made-up his mind about this and you know he's not bluffing.

You see the fire behind his eyes and how he dares you to say otherwise.

“Choose wisely, Y/N,” The usage of your name causes your breath to hitch. It feels weird hearing him to say it since he barely called you by your name. It was like he was trying to put as much distance from the two of you as he could. But now, he just speaks bluntly. “You know I'm a man of my word.”

You know that much. He told you he'd come back. He always did. He always kept his word no matter what, even though he never promised you anything close to an actual relationship.

“You say--” you take a deep breath, not letting him get through you. “You say that you want to be in his life. How do you want to do that when you can't even respect me as a woman? I'm his mother and all you've done is treat me like a piece of shit.” you tell him with disgust, the words you're letting out is burning your tongue as your features harden.

You feel like crying, knowing you never healed from how he treated you. You were just stupid enough to continue seeing him, you couldn't resist him. You gained some strength and confidence ever since you stopped seeing him, but he could still throw you off with a single word and specific tone like a house of cards.

“I never promised you anything. It always was just sex.” His tone isn't cold as you would expect it to be, he simply just reminds you.

You know he's right. He is not being rude, just honest. And you hate yourself for feeling this certain way that makes you want to bawl your eyes out. You don't love him, but you at least felt something for him. You're nothing to him. He makes you feel like nothing.

“That doesn't make up for your attitude.” you point out and he walks around the desk, stepping closer to you and you slightly flinch away but he doesn't seem to be phased.

“You say I don't respect you as a woman or mother,” he bluntly ignores your previous words which annoys you. “But do you respect me as a father?”

He doesn't sound anywhere near emotional, almost emotionless but that doesn't come as surprise to you. You got used to it. That's what doesn't make any sense to you. When he saw Yoojin for the first time, or when he wasn't even born yet, he seemed like a person who is capable of feelings. You've never seen him that way.

His question catches you off guard. And you grow only more irritated with him because this is just his way of turning things against you. When you point some thing out, he does the same to you without properly giving you an answer. He is a wise man, there is no doubt of that. He actually thinks he's better than anyone.

What are you supposed to say?

'I won't respect you because you never respected me'?

That sounds just childish. It's like 'you first then I'll' children use to say whenever they're bickering.

“Seokjin,” you speak up, letting his name out of your mouth after a long time. “This is just plain stupid. I'm not doing this with you.” you shake your head.

“Is it? How is it stupid that I want to be in my son's life?” he asks you, raising his tone just slightly to let you know he's not playing around. You never thought he is in the first place.

“Because it is!” you bark, not able to hold it in. “Because there is no way you don't have some intention behind this! There is no way you suddenly want to just be a father. Let's not forget that you've tried to buy him from me! Buy, Seokjin! That's so fucked up!”

He doesn't seem to be surprised by the loudness of your voice. “You don't know me,” he barks out this time, but still quieter than you did. “I thought you don't wanna raise a kid.”

“So, what? You thought buying a baby that wasn't even born yet is a good idea?” you let out a bitter chuckle, your eyes wetting up with unnecessary tears.

“Look, I know that wasn't good of me. I never had an intention to take him away from you. I just thought, considering your financial situation, that you would just-- and me and my wife have been trying-- it doesn't matter.” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhales.

“It does matter! It matters to me.” you tell him, letting out a soft whimper as you quickly wipe away your tears that threatened to fall.

“Nothing I could say will help or make things better.”

And for the first time, you feel like you're both on the same page about something.

“But you could try.” you whisper, biting your lower lip as his eyes linger on you.

You feel pathetic to cry in front of him. He has seen you cry too much for the past few months, or at least this vulnerable. You used to mask it until you were alone, not anymore.

“I'm trying,” he tells you, his fingers finding their way to his dark locks as he brushes through them. “Don't you see, I'm trying? You want to be his mother and I respect that. Because you are and it doesn't matter that I'm fucking married and that I was supposed to get my wife pregnant, not you. But here we're.”

You're speechless with your mouth opened as you feel your eyes slightly getting swollen by the burn feeling.

“So either we're going to do this together, or I'll take it to court. I want to be in my son's life.” he tells you firmly, his cold side back.

So you dryly gulp the lump in your throat and with your heart beating loudly in your ears, you blink couple of times.

You know he has his rights and that he's Yoojin's father. You don't want him to be in his life, knowing he hurt you so much and that he just isn't a good person. And if you don't agree now, there is a chance he'll ruin you. He'll take Yoojin from you.

“Do you promise not to take him away from me?” you ask quietly, your voice shivering.

The simple thought just makes you want to curl in a ball and cry yourself to sleep. You can't loose him.

“Not when you'll cooperate.” he tells you, relaxing his features for a moment but you don't dwell on it although, it's a rare sight to see. Especially when it's aimed at you.

“Fine,” you breathe out, your shoulders tensing. “But I don't want that money.”

“Those money are for my son.”

“Our son.” you quickly correct him with furrowed brows and he smirks.

“Yeah, exactly,” he nods and you know he did that just to annoy you. He liked it to hear finally saying it's not just your son, but his as well. “So, you'll take that money back or you know what? Don't. I will transfer it to you. Don't walk with that kind of money just like that.” he tells you, turning around and picking up his phone from the desk.

You stand there all dumbfounded, blinking as he types something before he takes all the stuck of money and hides it in one of the draws.

“I told you--”

“I know, but let me take care of him.” he cuts you off, not even looking at you and with a huff, you don't try to insist anymore.

At the end of the day, he's always going to do what he wants. And if this means he can ensure Yoojin's better life, that you can't give him, so be it.

#bts smut #bts angst #kim seokjin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin drabble #jin x reader #bts au #bts drabbles #mistress!au #personasintro

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snowflake-of-destruction · 4 years

Photo

They had hosted guests far larger in their home. Aeleus and Even’s standing weekly poker game with Cid sprang to mind. There was something about the way the man Sora had brought back with him from the Realm of Unreality sat-- chair pulled out from the table and turned sideways to make said table little more than a place to prop his elbow and set his bottle of beer, legs spread wide apart, head lolled slightly to the opposite side from the table like an overgrown bored child with three days beard growth--that made him seem too big to be allowed even though Leon was pretty sure if he stood up the man would be shorter than he was. The aura was helped along by a combination of broad shoulders and insolent confidence, assurance that taking up as much space as possible was his right.

Leon made up his mind right then that he didn’t particularly care for the blond in the ankle length off-white coat or the way his bottle green eyes bored into him like they saw through him, like this stranger from a far off world knew secrets about him and was debating whether to let Leon know or to humor him and let him keep his confidence he was good at keeping them.

“Giving me the silent treatment, Squallie?” The irreverent rumble of barely contained humor matched the rest of his attitude.

“My name is Leon.”

“Leon Leonhart? A name to inspire confidence in you from your soldiers.” He reached over, retrieved his beer, and took a sip without breaking eye contact.

“I don’t have soldiers.” Leon let out a tired sigh. “I know you have me mixed up with someone else-” Someone with a lot of eerie similarities to him, and Leon knew that couldn’t mean anything good. “-But I’m not a military commander.”

“Shame.” The stranger’s chuckle was a bit mocking, but it had a warmth like honey melting in hot tea. “Up until this point you were doing so well. Finally went through puberty at least.” He paused for a moment like he expected a response, like it was an old joke and he was setting Leon up for the punchline. It was only a couple seconds, but it seemed significant, and some of the twinkle went out of his eyes when he didn’t get the response he was clearly expecting from Leon. He continued, more matter-of-fact, “Got some height on you, filled out a bit. You don’t look like a starving dog anymore.” A different kind of softness smoothed out the planes of his face. “You grew your hair out a bit. I like it. You look like Laguna Loire.”

The stranger let another one of those significant pauses settle and Leon waited it out, except this time the stranger snapped. “Oh, come on! I thought that would get a rise out of you for sure. You don’t need to keep up the act now that that Keybearer kid and that chocobo-looking motherfucker Zell-faced asshole are gone.” He didn’t elaborate on what act he suspected Leon of perpetuating, instead muttering about Cloud some more. “Only a chickenwuss would need a sword that big to feel tough.”

Leon crossed his arms and raised a brow, mollified and feeling calmer himself now that the visitor was losing his cool. “You swing a pretty big sword yourself.”

All at once, the tension drained out of the stranger’s shoulders and he was smiling wolfishly, raking his eyes over Leon again. “So you do remember after all, Squall.”

“Excuse me?” Leon shot for intimidatingly indignant, but only achieved squawking. He was too caught off-guard to worry about sounding like someone’s scandalized spinster aunt however.

The stranger stalled through a series of disconnected gestures, not even taking his moment of amusement from taking Leon by surprise as he put together that raising a question meant actually having to follow through and explain himself. He sighed and stretched, gave his eyes a half roll, pinched the bridge of his nose a second after and sighed again. “If you want to prove you’re not him, then take off your shirt. It’s...far from my proudest moment, but, back when I was serving the sorceress, I carved my name in his chest.” Before Leon could process, the blonde continued, though his words still fell short of reassuring. “So there was no chance of him forgetting me.”

“You don’t seem easy to forget.” Leon didn’t mean it as flirting, but the look he got back said the stranger had a different interpretation.

“You’d be surprised,” the wry answer came. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“There’s more to be gained the other way around.” That was why Sora had left their dimension-hopping guest with him and why Cloud had left them alone. Leon was the only one blondie seemed inclined to talk to, and they all wanted to know more about this time compression threat and sorceress he had mentioned to Sora.

Confusion was clearly feigned. “What? Me telling you about what makes Squall Leon-heartless tick?”

“Heartless?” Leon echoed, latching onto the relevant information in his mind. So this ‘Seifer Almasy’ did know of the Heartless.

“The original ice king, lover of Shiva.” Seifer was wistful.

“I...He was in love with someone named Shiva?” Leon didn’t understand the relevance.

He got back a pitying look. “Oh, Squallie, you’re brand new, aren’t you?”

Sora chose that moment to make a sudden return, banging the front door open with force that nearly rocked the hinges. Walking in behind him was a teenage boy a few inches taller than he was with questionable fashion sense (midriff baring shirt, long sleeveless coat, black beanie) and a softer version of the features the man sitting at the table wore.

“Ta da!” Sora announced triumphantly. “This is who I was telling you about!”

“This homeless drifter?” the newcomer scowled. “I thought you said he was a knight.”

The man from another realm who had introduced himself as Seifer Almasy wore a matching curled lip. “Who is this twink?”

Sora beamed. “Seifer Almasy meet Seifer Almasy.”

#kingdom hearts #snippet sunday #leon kh #seifer almasy #squall leonhart #multiverse confusion #sora #ffviii #squall x seifer #leon x seifer

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liquid-reign · 3 years

Text

Wicked Game

Yes I have a thing for naming things after songs

Wicked Game- Chris Isaak

But for this fic, its the Daisy Gray version

And I don’t know to write an ending sentence or a closing sentence or whatever it’s called. So, uumm, yeah.

Tommy Shelby x Roslyn Asheton

She had just had her breakfast with Charlie, preparing him for his morning violin class. She had to go to office late today and made sure whatever time she had could spare, she spent it with Charlie. After prepping him up she went to her office to look forward to the days meetings. Halfway through the work, she heard bangs in the field. Charlie was playing specifically loud, so she rushed to the front door and saw something that horrified her.

Tommy was shooting at a scarecrow, surrounded with explosions. Not even a second passed since she saw this, and her feet ran at their fullest potential towards the field. The explosions stopped and Tommy was walking out of the field but she still ran until she was blocking her husband.

"Tommy?" she said, panting from all the running.

"What are you doing, still home?" he said, in a hurry, without even glancing her way and continued walking towards the house.

She followed him into the library, not asking anything. He immediately made a phone call and she listened, standing right there at the other end of his desk. Something about sending someone to Birmingham. Whom?

"What was that?" she asked

He just stood there, his hands leaning on the table, as if for support, head low.

"Tommy? What the fuck was that?" her voice angry and concerned now.

"I'll let you know later" he said, in a low thick voice. She knew him well enough to know when he didn't want to talk.

"You better", and she left.

Roslyn wasn't new to danger and could sense when things weren't right. Tommy had been behaving weird lately. They usually discussed about their businesses in whatever fragments of time they found with each other and were even beginning to settle into the marriage, maybe, but that was before he started behaving like this. So, she felt like it was time to fulfil the promise she had made.

It was late at night, way past midnight, when the door to her study opened. It could only be him. He didn't seat himself anywhere, rather poured himself some whiskey and walked to stand by the fireplace.

Tension and silence lingered in the air for sometime before he broke it, "You put your men on me"

"Finest men I have. They know how to handle anything."

He turned to look her way. Eyes giving away disbelief, disappointment, anger. His face, ever so expressionless and voice ever so professional.

"You put your men on me, Roslyn" he repeated

"It had to be done." she didn't look up from the work she kept herself immersed in

"Since when?"

"4 days now"

"Fair enough. I don't give you enough reasons to trust me, do I?" eyes fixed on her

Now she looked up and gave him a hard stare as if she could destroy him then and there.

He walked towards her, hands on her shoulders, lifting her up from her chair and pressing her back against the nearest wall. He raised both his eyebrows at her in question.

"You said you would let me know. You didn't, did you?" she paused to take a good look at him with her rage filled eyes, "It's not about trust, Thomas. I put my men on you because I promised something to you on our wedding night, eh?"

His expression relaxed a bit and his grip on her relaxed. He remembered how she had promised to stand by him as his strength.

She could tell he remembered. She wanted to tell him that his safety was prime to her, that sometimes she wanted to handle everything that he did and let him have some rest. But he didn’t function that way and she didn’t want to say it out loud. She couldn’t ever let rationality leave her. And in this very moment, anger is all she felt

"Michael is back and I know it is something related to him. And what happened in the field, Billy Boys, weren't they?" She paused and removed his hands off of his grip on her, "Don't forget that I'm not someone you can push-over, Thomas Shelby. I have my sources but I respect us enough to trust you to tell me things, which I can find out much easier on my own" now she stood close to him, as close as possible without touching him anywhere, "Anybody lays a hand on you, they won't see another day" she warned. Voice and expression stern. Like she would kill anybody who even tried to touch him.

He ran a finger to trace the side of her face.

She took her chance and walked out of his way towards her desk.

"Here", handing him the files, "I think you came here for these"

After taking the files and putting them back on the desk he grabbed her from the hand and pulled her to him. She, looking at the wall on the other side of the room, avoiding his face.

"You'd do that, eh?" he asked, knowing bloody well that she was fully capable of it.

No answer.

He cupped her face in his hands, to make her look at him.

"It's late, you should go to bed." her voice plain. She was annoyed at him. Her body turned on by the vicinity of them standing so close, yearning for him because they hadn't had an encounter for a long time now, but her mind knew better.

He did realise in that very moment that she was very serious and his treatment of her wasn't right.

He took his clue and left.

Tommy straightaway went to the library, sleep was far fetched. Tried to concentrate on everything but his mind wouldn't let go of his wife's words. How, after a very long time, he had felt something. He would be lying if he didn't admit how incredibly sexy he had found her at that very moment. A woman who could do that for him. Do what no one else had dared to till now. A woman who knew him so well. A woman who wasn't afraid of him. Who didn't want to change him. He wanted her. Needed her. To savour her. But-

She didn't want to give into what her body and heart demanded. Wanted to be strong, but the past few days had been rough and she needed a good enough distraction. He's your husband, Roslyn. You have the right to fulfil your needs with him. So, for the first time in a very long while, she decided to give in. To keep functioning.

He leaned back in his chair when he saw her enter the library. After a few seconds he got up, walked towards and absolutely crashed his lips onto hers, pressing himself to her, hands holding his wife from the waist, painfully close.

She parted, breathing heavily, "Take us to bed?"

He lifted her up, her legs hugging his abdomen and went upstairs to their shared bedroom.

They fucked like they could save each other by being getting lost doing it. Like it was the only thing keeping them alive. The intense two rounds left them empty and tired. She had ended up on top of him in the second one, collapsed into him.

She got up, out of the bed towards the window for a smoke.

Roslyn had no intention of being affectionate towards him right now, having had listened to her body and heart once, not anymore. Once in a while was enough.

He just lay there in the dark room. Her naked silhouette, smoking, against the huge dimly lit window. Sometimes, he thought, he was scared of how he saw himself in her. How she could match him, even better than him, in a lot of affairs.

His train of thoughts halting to a stop for a second when she left the room, dressed just in a light night gown. It was almost dawn. There was no way sleep would make it's way to him now.

Roslyn didn't want to be near Tommy. She had snapped, had too much. She needed a break and this was it so she made her way to her study and let herself be lost in the work.

Space was something both of them craved most of the times and this is what it looked like.

But I kinda have an alternate ending for this, so pick whichever you like

Here it goes;-

He leaned back in his chair when he saw her enter the library. After a few seconds he got up, walked towards and absolutely crushed his lips onto hers, pressing himself to her, hands holding his wife from the waist, painfully close.

She parted, breathing heavily, "Yes I'd do that, Tom. I will have your back, protect you, because God knows you deserve it"

Tommy nodded, felt pride. Strange, that. He had only ever felt that when someone could beat him, someone close, when Polly was a step ahead of him or when Ada threw clever answers his way. A rare occurrence. But Roslyn had already instilled pride in him when he had found out what she was capable of while giving protection and muscle for the Vendetta, or when she crushed anyone who tested her knowledge in ammunition.

It felt strange. A woman willing to protect him. It was the last thing that Tommy could've asked for. Protection for himself. Someone who cared deep enough to do that. And on top of that a woman, it felt unreal.

"Take us to bed?" she suggested, grazing on his lower lip.

He lifted her up, her legs hugging his abdomen and went upstairs to their shared bedroom.

She got up, out of the bed towards the window for a smoke.

He lay there on the bed in the dark room. Her naked silhouette, smoking, against the huge dimly lit window. Sometimes, he thought, he was scared of how he saw himself in her. How she could match him, even better than him, in a lot of affairs.

Roslyn was looking at him, through a thin layer of smoke.

Put out her cigarette and walked towards him. She sat on his laps, one leg on either side. He was propped up, his back against the back of the bed. They couldn't see much of each other, but the faint glow of the oncoming dawn was enough. Roslyn held his face in her hands, and kept gazing at him. Lost in thought.

"You'd let me do it" a statement rather than a question, almost a whisper.

"Why would you?" his arms wrapped around her waist now.

"Let me"

His head fell into her chest. And she held him. Running a soft hand to feel his hair. So soft. Not the kind of hair a gangster would be expected to have. Held him there. Hands drifting to his strong shoulders and back. Hugging him almost.

None of them kept track of time. When she realised he had dozed off on her, she didn't dare wake him up. He slept very little these days so she felt a bit of a relief when he finally did. His face looked tired and worn.

Roslyn couldn't sleep anyway, so she stayed until he would naturally wake up. Savouring the touch, the entangled bodies, his calm breathes. Gently kissing his neck and head several times in between, giving out all the emotions for him she usually kept locked in. And it hit her, something she wasn’t aware of up until now. She was afraid of losing him.

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pixelatedrose · 4 years

Text

Soulbound Part Five

First | Previous | Part 5 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word count: 4,674

Pairings: platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Uncensored swearing, Implied self harm (skip starting from "so instead of trying to make it okay" to the break), fighting, talk of controlling parents, panicking, near panic attacks, crying, absent siblings, please tell me if i missed anything or if there's something you would like tagged!!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 5

The next day at school was a trip for Roman Prince.

The morning was as usual, and Roman had actually gotten sleep this time. And it was normal (save for his thoughts being preoccupied 65% of the time by a certain boy.) Until his third period with Virgil.

~~•~~

Oooh!! He's cute! Roman thought walking into class before promptly scolding himself. No no! He has a soulmate! I'm sure of it! He doesn't want to be your friend. Roman warred with himself in his head. But he's still cute. You know you want to be friends with him. And even if he has a soulmate, that doesn't stop you from being his friend!

Roman strut up to Virgil, who was curled up in a ball with his feet on the table, his hood up and his bangs obscuring his face and eyes. "Hello there J.D-lightful! How is my-"

Virgil turned away from him. "Not in the mood, Princey." His voice was rough. Rougher than it had been the day before.

Roman took another look at Virgil. And he really looked at him. His makeup was smeared and looked like it hadn't been washed off since the previous day, what he could see of his hair looked tangled and a mess. From underneath his messed up eyeshadow his pretty blue eyes looked dreary and tired and even a little red around the edges if you looked hard enough. The jacket and pants he was wearing were the same as yesterday and looked wrinkled as if he'd slept that way.

Virgil looked like a mess.

Roman sat down and felt an unreal amount of concern for the boy he'd met just a day ago. "Hey, are you doing alright? You don't look too hot there…"

Virgil shook his head. "No…" He choked out. "But what's it to you anyway?"

"Well, can't I be concerned for someone who looked like they got dragged out behind a car in the rain?" Roman chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood. He hated when people around him were hurting. He wanted to help. If he could, he would want to be the prince charming that saved everyone.

Virgil chuckled lightly and Roman hid his smile. "Do I really look that bad?"

Roman shrugged his shoulders, smiling. "Creative freedom! I wouldn't say I'm above the occasional embellishment! But yes you look like shit, Virgil Sanders."

Virgil laughed. He actually laughed! It was light and soft and no more than a chuckle, but it was bright with joy and it danced in Roman's ears.

Roman was so distracted with the soft music of Virgil's laugh he missed his chance to say something before the joy faded from the pretty pale boy's face. "Sorry. It doesn't matter anyway." He huffed despondently.

Roman perked up as an idea flooded his mind. "Hey why don't I help you fix your makeup and hair at lunch, yeah?" He asked sweetly and enthusiastically.

Virgil's faced Roman and he saw that his face was flushed, and he was suddenly very concerned if he was running a fever as well and had to fight the urge to reach out and feel his forehead.

What kind of train of thought was that?? Roman thought to himself.

Virgil looked down and started playing with the edges of his sleeves. "I don't think that's a good idea, Princey."

Roman smiled at the nickname. It was one he'd never heard before. He'd been called numerous names, many spread by rumors. Bastard. Prep. Player. Gay whore. Soulless. Homo bastard. Gay bitch. Slut. He'd always taken the names in stride when the moment came, but he knew what power names held. He knew how deep words could cut someone.

He took a breath and responded. "Why not?"

~~•~~

Virgil stopped. It was such a simple question. Why did it make his heart pound?

Why not.

That was a good question. Why didn't Virgil think it was a good idea?

Because people will talk.

Let them talk then.

Because Roman has a Soulmate.

But he can still be your friend.

Because people will bully both of you.

But then I'd have someone to stand with me.

Because Roman is just pitying you.

There it was. The reason it wasn't a good idea. Because it was borne out of pity.

"Because I'm pitiful and I'm not so sure I'm the kind of person you want to hang out with." Virgil said with a fake laugh. Roman made a face when he laughed. It was a face that someone made when they smelled something rancid. As if listening to Virgil's fake laugh was like hearing what rotten fruit smelled like.

"Well that's for me to decide and for you to find out how wrong you are about that!!" Roman laughed with such a charming twinkle of determination in his eye Virgil couldn't help but want to be his friend right in that moment.

He huffed and hid his heated face in his sleeve. "Alright fine. I'll let you do my makeup during lunch, or whatever." He smiled but quickly turned it serious as he faced Roman. "But don't touch my hair. That's mine and I don't like people touching it."

Virgil waited for the inevitable, 'But You said I can do it so I'm allowed to touch it' or 'Awh, but it would make me just so happy if you'd let me do it! And you don't want me sad, do you?' But instead all that came was, "Of course! If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll be more than happy to leave it alone, fair-faced!"

What? That was new for Virgil. He was so used to his mother and other kids invading his space and ignoring him, he forgot that people could be better than that.

Virgil hunkered down in his chair and the two chatted every few moments, Virgil dodging questions and making Roman carry the entire conversation. When Roman stopped talking to him though, Virgil grew anxious. Not of anything in particular, no it was more that Roman calmed him down when he was talking, so when he wasn't it was back to anxiety and worries that held no meaningl.

The class ended and Roman asked what class he had next. Virgil told him distractedly and didn't connect the dots of why Roman would ask till he saw Roman waiting for him outside his classroom.

"How did you get here so-"

"Magic!" Roman interrupted. He held up a beat up hall pass.

Virgil marveled at it. "How did you get ahold of one of these?"

"Like I said, magic!"

"You're a clueless moron."

"I do suffer from Always Dumb and Hot Disorder, so I suppose you're right."

"Wait what??"

"Always Dumb and Hot Disorder! ADHD! I mean I am pretty hot."

"Snrk, yeah sure Princey. Keep dreaming."

"I'll have you know I'm made of 100% attractiveness and beauty!!"

"Oh yeah? Does it say that on the tag? Right along with the price of $10.99?"

"Oh how dare you put my price lower than the leftover makeup on your face!! I'm worth at least a whole 50 dollars! Per inch!!"

"Per inch of what? Stupid? You know I could actually believe that one."

"Well my Nightmare Oatmeal Raisin Cookie, I do believe I could make a fortune myself off the amount of snark you toss out of your mouth."

"Only for you, Princey!"

They arrived at the bathroom and Roman pulled out his own makeup supplies he kept on hand.

It was a lot more vast than Virgil would have thought. Foundation, powder, eyeshadow in the full rainbow of colors (including a deep purple that caught Virgil's eye), eyeliner, and even some sparkly shit Virgil didn't know the name of. (Virgil had always seen it in stores but had opted for just calling it sparkly shit rather than learning it's name.)

Roman handed him makeup wipes and instructed him to remove his mangled mess of makeup that was already on his pale face.

~~•~~

As Virgil took off the layers of product on his face, Roman could finally see just how tired he was.

The bags under his eyes looked very much like the eyeshadow he had been wearing previously and looking at his eyes a little closer, Roman could see they were bloodshot and all in all, it looked like the poor boy hadn't slept in days.

Roman felt awful for him. There was an odd pang in his chest when he saw the shorter boy like that. What in the world was it about Virgil Sanders that so soundly struck Roman's heart?

~~•~~

Virgil finished with his face and saw Roman ready with foundation and sponge.

"Alright, Charlie Frown, ready for your makeover?"

Virgil rolled his eyes and Roman stepped towards him.

In fact Roman came very close to Virgil.

In fact by the time Roman stopped moving, there was hardly four inches between them.

And very suddenly Virgil was not alright again.

Roman had almost completely drowned all of Virgil's fears and hurts and anxieties that had been clustering around him like a dark stormcloud the entire day.

Roman had made the fact that Virgil hadn't slept that night, instead opting to sit and sob violently while reading the five years his mother had hidden from him, okay. He had made him forget it. He had made it alright.

Roman had calmed the constant whirlwind of anxiety that was usually so loud that Virgil wanted to throw up to a low buzzing hum that Virgil had finally been able to ignore.

Roman had made him happy to be there.

Roman had made him laugh.

Roman had made him smile.

Roman had made him forget the marks.

Roman had made him forget his mistakes.

Roman had made him forget what and who Virgil was.

And now.

Virgil had everything crash back down.

Virgil backed away from Roman, pushing lightly against his chest. "W-wait I don't think we should do this anymore…"

Had Virgil not been so lost in the storm of his anxieties, he would have seen the way disappointment and worry flashed vibrantly across Roman's eyes.

Roman's smile dulled to a softly worried one. "Is everything okay?"

For some unknown reason those three words made everything worse for Virgil.

No!! No, nothing is okay!! Everything is wrong and bad and awful and I don't know what to do or where to go and there's no one I can talk to and I'm just so alone and scared and nothing will ever be okay!!!

Virgil wanted to scream and cry and fall over and he wished he could float around endlessly in the void of space and just silently sob and he wished he had something to distract from the bottomless pit of anxious trembling he had fallen into.

"I-I'm sorry- I just- I can't-!" Virgil stumbled around his words before he backed away and fled the bathroom. He ran upstairs and into a different bathroom where he locked himself in a stall and cried silently, letting the actions of yesterday wash over him once again.

Nothing could be done to make it okay.

Nothing would make anything okay.

So instead of trying to make it okay, Virgil could at least distract himself.

So he fished out a pencil from his backpack along with his sharpener.

~~•~~

Roman watched in pain and dismay as Virgil backed away from him and ran out the door.

Something was very wrong.

And it hurt that Roman couldn't help.

It hurt that he didn't know how to help.

Roman tried to brush everything off as he started putting away his materials.

There's something wrong that I'm missing here...Is he okay? Is he alright? Does he need my help? Does he want my help? I want to help him...why do I want to help him so badly?

As Roman was exiting the bathroom, his wrist exploded into a stinging pain. He nearly dropped his backpack as he grabbed his wrist.

He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket and found nothing there. Once again it had been nothing but phantom pain. They had been getting more frequent in the past few months.

The bell rang and Roman walked to his 5th period class where he would spend the time with Patton talking about Virgil.

"-and then he just...left." Roman said, finishing his account of his interaction.

Patton nodded his head slowly. "Mm, mm, Logan was right wow. I can't believe it, if I'm being honest, but Logan totally called it."

"Called what?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"You are absolutely head over heels for this boy."

Roman stared blankly at Patton. A red blush exploded onto his face and he waved his hands. "WHAT?!" He shook his head violently and laughed. "No no no, you got this all wrong, Padre! I am not head over heels for Virgil!"

"Virgil?" Patton suddenly looked curious. "As in Virgil Sanders??"

Roman looked at his friend, the heat from his face fading. "Yes? Who else??"

Patton brightened up. "I have him my 2nd period!! You never mentioned his name before and now that you have well it's OBVIOUS who you're talking about!!"

Roman couldn't help but feel happy. "Really? You know him?"

Patton laughed. "No! We just have the same class together! That's all!"

Roman deflated a little and the class carried onward.

And for the first time ever, Roman was anxious about his theater class arriving.

When it did eventually arrive, it was so much more dramatic than even the title "drama class" could capture.

Roman walked into class, dreading to face Virgil.

But instead of seeing the emo sulking or completely avoiding him, Roman walked onto the stage and was met face to face with Virgil Sanders.

Literally.

Roman had nearly ran into the pretty faced emo who was just a few steps away from the door.

"Hey," Roman started, his hopes of becoming the emo's friend having died to nothing but a sickly burning coal. "Look, I don't know exactly what I did, but I'm really sorry all the same. And you don't have to try and be my friend or anything if you don't want to. I'm really sorry for-"

Virgil started laughing. It was a louder laugh. It was just as beautiful and sweet as his softly golden chuckle, but this one sounded bright and silvery, it had a bite to it, the way that the cold bites longingly into your skin during wintertime. His laugh was wonderful and sweet and it sounded the way peppermint tasted.

Roman caught himself up in his laugh before he snapped himself back to reality and found Virgil shaking off the last bit of his laugh and saw the emo smiling sweetly at Roman, his deep blue eyes sparkling with joy and…something harsher.

"Why are you laughing?" Roman finally found himself asking.

Virgil straightened himself and responded. "I just thought it was funny," He ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face before the fell over his eyes again. "I was coming to apologize to you for running off so suddenly." Virgil shuffled his feet and played with the edges of his sleeves. His laughing tone turned serious as he avoided Roman's eyes. "I'm really sorry for that. I had a lot on my mind and I freaked out. And if you don't want to be friends, I understand...But I…" Virgil met Roman's eyes before looking back down at the ground. "I wouldn't mind if we hung out a bit."

Though Roman couldn't see his face, he could practically hear the shy smile that Virgil undoubtedly wore.

Mr. Sanders walked onto the stage and nearly ran over the two boys who were standing so close to the door.

"Gah!! Oh! So sorry there, boys!" Mr. Sanders caught Virgil's eye and quicker than needed, he left to center stage.

Roman, just barely, caught Virgil's pained and distressed expression before the emo threw his hood up over his head, obscuring his face.

"Alright class! Let's circle up!" Mr. Sanders called brightly.

Virgil walked over, his hood up and his hands stuffed into his pockets. He stalked over to the edge of the circle, as far away from the young theater teacher as possible. Roman followed, only to have an oblivious and lonely Rose shove herself between Roman and his very near new friend.

"Hey Ro, guess what?" Rose whispered.

Roman rolled his eyes. "What?"

"There's, like, a really cute girl over there!!" She pointed to a tall blonde girl with a shy face and dark bracelets. Another emo, this one a little more subtle than the boy a few feet away from him. "Please be my super cool wingman!" She begged jumping up and down.

Roman heard Virgil snort from behind Rose. "I-"

"Alright, class! Today we're going to continue with group juggling, but with a twist!" Mr. Sanders brought out a bag and took an orange tennis ball out. "It'll be just like last time, except we're going to have an order this time." He looked in the direction of Roman, but not at him. "Virgil!" He called to the boy with his hair in his face and tossed the orange ball to him.

Virgil had not been ready for that. "What?" Virgil asked and only just barely saw the ball coming toward him. The panic was clear on his face as he struggled to catch the ball, eventually having it drop to the floor.

"What the hell, Thomas!!" Virgil shouted. Roman watched as he saw something boil inside Virgil. "First, you show up in my life out of the blue-"

"Virgil, now might not be the time to-"

"Fuck the 'Right time,' Thomas!” Virgil yelled. There was something raw and hurt in his voice that went so much deeper than being unready to catch a ball. “I can't deal with this much longer!!"

Roman looked between the two and Mr. Sanders caught his eye. "Roman can you-?"

"Stop it! Stop trying to avoid the reality of things! You can’t just brush it off because it’s uncomfortable or you don’t fucking like it!” Virgil ran a distressed hand through his hair. It had seemed like he’d forgotten everyone was there.

Mr. Sanders’ eyes darted between his students and Virgil. His eyes landed again on Roman and the tall boy caught his pleading gaze.

Take the kids back to the classroom, so I can talk to Virgil? Mr. Sanders’ look was clear enough. At the very least, Roman knew to get the others out of the theater.

“Listen, Virgil! I do want to talk about this! We need to talk about this!” Mr. Sanders said, Turning his full attention to Virgil as Roman started whispering to the kids, herding them off the stage.

“Then why aren’t yo-”

Virgil’s pained shouting was muffled almost entirely by the big metal doors the led off of stage left. Roman was almost glad that he couldn’t hear them anymore. Something about the way Virgil was yelling made Roman’s chest twist into a knot and his stomach churn.

Roman turned around and leaned against the heavy doors, letting a small breath out. He could still hear muffled shouts coming from the stage, though he couldn’t make out any words.

“Holy shit…” One girl said with a small laugh of disbelief. “Emo’s got some sort of real shit with teach, huh?”

“Hey!” Rman caught himself shouting, a little louder than intended. He calmed his voice and started again, softer. “I don’t know what’s up between Sanders and Virgil, but whatever it is it should blow over soon!” Roman kept his voice happy and light, but against the door he could hear something being thrown. Maybe a chair by the sound of it. Roman took another small breath. “Let’s just all head over to the classroom. I know some theater games we can play while we wait for Mr. Sanders and Virgil to get back.”

As they all walked over to the small black-box theater that they used as a theater classroom, Roman hung back a little, sparing one last glance at the doors to the stage before heading over with the rest of the class.

What the hell kind of second day of school is this??

~~•~~

Virgil had been dreading his theater class all day.

Roman had somehow, miraculously, stopped Virgil’s ever racing heart for a few minutes.

And it wasn’t his fault.

Thomas’s, I mean.

He had just been trying to get through the day and had subconsciously picked Virgil.

It was, however, Virgil’s fault that he had exploded. Maybe it wasn’t 100% his fault, as anxiety, nerves, and the pent up emotions of an anxious and nervous person do play a role in the doom of all things socially acceptable, but it was still his fault at the end of the day.

And so here they were.

Screaming.

Or at least Virgil was cause goddammit he couldn’t take it anymore.

All the hurt, all the betrayal, everything he had ever wanted that had been stolen from him, everything he had stuffed into little jars in his mind, all of it exploded.

Right then.

Right there.

And by god did it hurt.

It hurt so badly.

It stung in his chest and burned in his throat and pricked at his eyes and pounded in his head and clawed at his lungs.

And it hadn’t been right for Virgil to blame Thomas.

But he had.

“Then why aren’t you talking about it?!” Virgil screamed.

"Because in the middle of my class is not the right time or place, Virgil!! Take into consideration the other kids!!" Thomas raised his voice for the first time.

Virgil was upset. More than he thought he'd be. He turned to a chair and kicked it hard, sending it bouncing a few feet away.

Thomas's tone calmed again, but it was still shaky with emotion. "Virgil you need to calm down, okay-?"

"No, dammit!!" Virgil shouted, tears pricking his eyes causing him to panic even more. "I'm sick and tired of people telling me to calm down because they don't want to deal with me!!" He ran a hand through his hair, his breath was shallow and hard. He caught Thomas's eyes and read pain, panic, and above them, regret. It hurt. If Thomas was like Virgil had thought he'd be, if Thomas had been cruel and spiteful, if he hated Virgil, it would have been easy.

But Thomas cared.

And that hurt so much more.

"Why didn't you-" why didn't you come and find me? "Why wasn't I-" why wasn't I good enough for mom to let me read those letters? "Why couldn't I-" why couldn't I have lived with my brother in my life?!

Virgil could no longer stand as his legs gave out beneath him. The weight of everything in his mind had seemed to crush him.

It was awful.

It was bitter.

It made him nauseous.

Virgil sat crumpled on the ground and as his emotions raged inside him, he started to cry.

Virgil felt a hand on his shoulder and didn’t need to spare the glance at Thomas to know who it was. All he had to do was lean into him and let his older brother wrap his arms around him in a soft, comforting hug that smelled faintly of butterscotch and cinnamon. Virgil buried his face in Thomas’s shoulder and fought sobs.

This is what he missed out on.

This is what he never had.

This is what he wanted.

An older brother who cared about him.

And Thomas? He had only really known him for two days, barely. And yet he cared more for Virgil than anything Virgil had felt before then.

He felt for the first time ever that he belonged.

Thomas and Virgil sat there on the stage floor for a while longer, Thomas holding his younger brother in his arms and stroking his hair, Virgil sitting in his older brother’s arms and crying softly, slowly calming himself down.

When Virgil finally calmed down enough, Thomas unwrapped himself from around Virgil. “Alright. Feel better?” Virgil nodded and Thomas continued. “Now then. We have some things to talk about, I think.”

Vigil nodded again and the two stood up, walking to the edge of the stage apron and sitting down, letting their feet dangle over the edge.

“So,” Thomas started, looking out over the empty audience. “Are you okay, first of all, and second, do you want to talk about mom? Or would you rather talk about me and the letters first?”

Virgil took a shaky breath. “I’m alright. And I think I’d rather talk about...Mom...First…” Virgil was reluctant to admit there was anything at all wrong with his home life, but deep, way deep in the cold dark basements of his mind, the place where all the painful truths hide themselves, he knew that there was.

Thomas broke the silence. “Does she hide stuff from you often?”

Virgil nodded. “She removed the lock on my door when I was eight, too. I have this wooden doorstop that I created as a makeshift lock, but I can’t lock my door when I’m away at school.” Virgil looked at his brother. “Did she do stuff like that to you?” He asked tentatively.

“Yeah.” Thomas said, lowering himself down onto his back and string up at the electrics that were hidden by the proscenium. “She’d read my journals and all the old angsty poems I wrote. She would drink and smoke all the time too.”

“Virgil nodded sadly, lowering himself down next to his brother. “I mean she’s not all that bad. She cares about me, and feeds me, and makes sure there’s a roof over our head…”

“Despite that, that doesn’t necessarily make her a good person. She still doesn’t have any right to do what she did to you. If you hadn’t been her kid, she could be arrested for mail theft.” Thomas looked at his brother with a kind of protectiveness that only family harbors for one another. “The question I really need to ask you, Virgil, is this; Do you feel safe and happy at home?”

Virgil opened his mouth to answer yes, but found he couldn’t do it. His mother would drink most nights and smoke often. She’d come home with someone new as her date every two weeks. She would make him do most things downstairs where she could see him and if he wasn’t within direct eyeshot, would be checking in on him every ten minutes it seemed. He didn’t feel in danger, but he didn’t feel safe. And he didn’t feel unhappy, but he didn’t have very many happy memories of the house with the strange yellow door either.

Virgil shook his head. “No…” He choked out.

Thomas sat up. “I have a proposition for you, then.” Virgil sat up too. “For the time being, until you graduate, you’re free to come by and visit me, or spend the night whenever you’d like. Unannounced or otherwise.”

Virgil found himself lighting up at the prospect of being able to live with or at least visit his brother on a regular basis. He felt his face darken with doubt soon after though. “Really? For real? You’re not playing me here?”

Thomas looked at Virgil with a serious expression. “Virgil, I want you to be safe and happy, and I’ve wanted to be in your life from the very first moment I knew you existed. When I say you can come over whenever you’d like, I mean it.” Thomas pulled Virgil into a quick tight hug before continuing. “I want whatever’s best for you, and only you know that. I just want to make sure you have somewhere you can go to feel safe and happy.”

Virgil nodded. “I think…” He started, his mind whirling with possibilities and opportunities. “I think I’d like to come over and talk about the letters later today, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled. “I think that’s a splendid idea, Virgil.”

Author’s note: Hey, Hi so uh...If any of you remember I said like half a week ago this would be out in a few days...So...Sorry about that. The chapter ended up being a tad bit longer than I thought it was going to be and I lost a lot of motivation for a day or two in there. I’m glad it’s at least on time though, and not late. Ideally it would have been early, like I’d said it would be, but what can ya do? Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this extra long chapter! Thanks again for reading it all!! love ya!

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jaehyunspeachparty · 4 years

Text

Meeting his girlfriend

It was SM's annual Christmas party organized by your company. You were pretty proud because you did your best. Your boss mentioned that he was looking for new partners for the sister company in Seoul and you see in this your chance. You honestly just moved to Seoul for the job. But since Jaehyun came back into your life, everything has become more complicated. You have deliberately not contacted him. After you kissed it was hard to forget him, actually you could never forget him. But you managed to distract yourself with sports, friends, and work. Your boss was so enthusiastic about you that he saw you as the ideal candidate for the new company in Seoul. And you finally had the chance to advance your career. Besides, you didn't have much in America anyway. Now your sister Audrey, which was the person with to whom you shared your apartment, has also moved to Cape Town with her fiancée and you thought that you had to move on also. You also visit the SM celebration, but more incognito, because you have to check that everything went according to plan. For the evening you bought yourself a tight red dress. For days you have been on a diet to make you look good in it. Sometimes you didn’t know why you did it all yourself. For Jaehyun? Who has a girlfriend? You were sometimes disappointed with yourself. You liked him, but he wasn’t ready to end the relationship with her. You look in the mirror and feel again this emptiness inside you. When would this be finally filled? Sometimes you wonder if you have ever been able to love. Maybe Jaehyun was better with his girlfriend than with you anyway. You just a being that couldn’t love.

Everything went well at the party. Everyone was excited about the event and everyone seemed to enjoy it. You went through the hall and stopped by a Christmas tree. The decoration was a bit crooked and you wanted to fix it. Everything had to be perfect because your career success depends on this party. "You look so beautiful." You suddenly hear a familiar voice and you have to smile a little bit. You turn to the side and see him. Jaehyun Jung. The hair styled and in a suit. He looked bigger than usual and you look at him with big eyes. "Hi." Like a stupid teenage girl adoring her crush, you grin at him. You try to control the corner of your mouth, but they keep pulling up. "Hi." His voice was so gentle and he looked deep into your eyes. You two say nothing at all, just staring at each other. You thought about how you would like to touch his lips now and feel his skin on yours. Everything in you got hot and you suddenly wanted so much more. Not like back in Paris. You wanted to take everything from him, feel his body, inhale his scent. You just wanted more from him. But you get interrupted. A slim figure clung to Jaehyun's body and turned his collar. "Here you are." She was here, the girlfriend of Jaehyun. It didn’t surprise you that she was beautiful. She was slim and stylish. She looked like from a fashion magazine. She could almost have been an idol here. Her look was amazing and now you could understand why Jaehyun was with her. "I have to go. Have fun." You try to smile and turn away from the couple. It was only a matter of time anyway that you got to know his girlfriend. But she was so perfect, so petite. You hoped that she had at least some flaw. But she was flawless, like Jaehyun. They looked like the perfect couple. Your heart ached and you would like to lie down with a pack of chips and watch awful love movies. But you had to work, you had to keep your composure.

You try to compensate your sadness with work, as always in the last weeks. But it was hard for you because Jaehyun passes always by with his stunning look. He always gave you a lovingly smile, but you didn’t talk to each other anymore. His girlfriend, you learned that night that she was called Suji, was with him all the time. At some point, you couldn’t anymore and wanted to collect yourself. That's why you go to the bathroom and lock yourself up in the toilet for a moment. You only need a minute for yourself. But then you hear how a group of high heels came into the room. "Oh my god, I hate this Y/N so much, why does she have to be in Seoul now?" It was clearly Suji's voice that you hear. You could hardly believe what she said and you couldn’t move. "What did she do?" You suddenly hear another voice that you didn’t know. "The bitch thinks she can take Jaehyun away from me, but we love each other and I think he'll soon make me a marriage proposal." The girls began to giggle and your heart stopped. Was that true? Did he intend to do that? Your heart beats faster and faster and you couldn’t realize it all. "But what does she think? Did you see how she looks like? Awful! And did you see her butt? Totally fat! Jaehyun needs more a woman who is classic and elegant and not as cheap and slutty as Y/N." Tears came up in you, but you don’t try to sob, because of course, you didn’t want anyone to notice you. The next moment you hear again the high heels, who leave the bathroom. You hear the door banging and after a few seconds you dare to get out again. You look if they are really gone and then you go out. You stop by the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. You feel so small and terrible at this moment. Unbelievable how fast someone can destroy your self-esteem. With a tissue, you dab off your tears and check if your makeup still fits. After you have gathered, you decide to go out again and finish the evening as soon as possible. When you went back to the hall you saw Jaehyun again. Next to him is Suji. You look at her and she grins, almost as if she knew what she had done. Does she even maybe? You look at Jaehyun and his eyes were soft and loving again. But you can’t bear it anymore. You turn away and disappear.

You found a small room that was unused. The chairs were still on the tables and in the middle was a bar that you could lean on. You hear to the music from the room next door and you knew that it would break you to go back and see Jaehyun with her. You had been thinking all along that you managed to forget him. But the truth was that you were in love with Jaehyun and you didn't remember when you experienced such intense love like this before. When you try to hold back your tears, you hear steps. You look down quickly to keep your composure and when you look up again, Jaehyun was already in front of you. He stares at you but said nothing. You had a hard time holding back your tears and when the first tear ran down your cheek you couldn't keep your words back. "You know, we had such a great time in America. We had so much fun, listened to music, watched movies, talked all night. Then the kiss that just triggered so much in me because it was so intense. And then you look for me at my work and send me my favorite flowers. Maybe I'm a fool, but I always thought there is something between us!?" You could just take only a breath after your speaking when you feel Jaehyun's lips on yours. He grabbed your hips and pushed you against the bar. And for a moment you let it go because it felt so good. As if you deserve it. All your suffering, tears and pain were rewarded. Just to feel his lips, to take in his love. But in the next moment, you realize what just happened and you push him softly aways. "Jaehyun, your girlfriend insulted me a few minutes earlier on the toilet and said that you wanted to marry her." You look up at him desperately. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't you just know what he felt, what he thought? "My life is not easy. Relationships are very complicated. If I leave Suji for you, are you really ready to have a secret relationship with me? We can never get out easily, go on dates or just have a coffee in public. We have to constantly hide. Are you really ready for this?" He takes your hand and looks at you seriously as if it were a matter of life or death. You didn't know what to say, it was all so unreal. You would never have expected such a question. Of course, you wanted to be with him, but you didn't know what it all entails. You keep forgetting that he's an idol. It was all so unreal and you didn't know what to say to him. You just stare at him with your mouth open and try to find words. "Y/N, I really like you. I want it to work between us. But I need to know that because if I leave Suji, I risk my whole career. So are you ready for all of this?" He put your hands on his chest with his and you could feel his pulse that was getting faster and faster. And suddenly you knew the answer. "Yes." You hadn't thought about it for a second. You wanted Jaehyun, even if the price was high. And Jaehyun looked visibly relieved. He took your face in his hands and leaned his forehead against yours. He smiled and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I'll try to sort this out with Suji and try to find a solution." Jaehyun looked into your eyes and you just enjoy his skin on yours. "Jaehyun? Does she have anything against you?" You loosen your forehead from his and look at him with concern. None of this was normal. Why should his career depend on when he leaves any employee? "Yes ..." He said no more and you could see that he was ashamed. "Is it bad?" Your gaze sticks on him and you can see him slowly looking up again. "Whichever way you take it." He sighed and took your hand again. He didn't want to hide anything from you and wanted to start your relationship honestly right away. "When we were in America, Johnny and I smoked a joint. Somehow, she secretly took a picture and want to use it to blackmail me if I leave her." He looked up at you guiltily, but you were relieved. You were more likely to expect a sex scandal or something like that. "It's not a bad thing. It's legal in many countries and even I smoke sometimes one." You laugh and take a deep breath again. "But it is illegal here and if such a scandal became public, then SM would banish me." He ran his fingers over your hand and you think for a while. "So that's why you were with her all the time?" He nodded and slowly everything became clear to you. But you didn't want him to give it all up for you. Maybe it was a wrong decision, maybe you could forget him, no longer love him ... for him. "Jaehuyn, you don't have to risk it all. Not for me ..." You didn't want him to take such a burden. "I want you. And someone owes me a favor. Maybe I can solve it quietly and secretly. Give me a week." He looked at you seriously and you nodded silently. At that moment, you just had to trust him, you had no choice. But for the first time, it was okay for you. "Come over." He suddenly pulled you by the hand and take you to the middle of the room. "Let’s dance." He smiled and put his hands on your hips and you put your arms over his shoulders. As if that wasn't all cliché enough, it played the song of "Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran.

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own. And in your eyes you're holding mine. Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms.

You moved together slowly to the music and you put your head on his shoulder. He pushes you closer to you and so you linger. In the empty room, with all the chairs on the tables and where there was none except you two. And you knew at that moment that your story had just started.

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moonboohoo · 3 years

Photo

BOOK: DREAM; IN THE STARS

CHARACTER: IWAIZUMI HAJIME X READER

SUMMARY: IN WHICH A GIRL NEEDS TO REPAY HER SINS BY BEFRIENDING WITH A VOLLEYBALL PLAYER.

WORD COUNT : 2270

*LOWERCASE INTENDED.

1. Prologue

(ACHROOUS)

DEF : colorless; achromatic.

TW: physical and mental abuse, self harm and suicidal thoughts.

16.6.1979

MARIGOLD SYMBOLIZES PAIN AND GRIEF ㅡ broken youths remained broken, toxic family relationships and insecurities, close friends leaving/backstabbing them, and they sew their hearts over and over again till it bleeds, and put bandages on their hearts and told everyone that they're doing okay (i wish you could give me your heart juice, i need love!)

and you - you were one of the broken youths as well.

you couldn't wait to be alive again, you couldn't wait to move out of your parent's house so that you could live in peace! you didn't have an exact plan of where you're going, and you couldn't just wander around the streets because nasty things were going to happen to you if you stayed in this town for even a single second - everyone hates you here.

you didn't know why you were born in the first place, your parents were abusive to you and you didn't know why you were holding on for so long. it was so painful to the point that you just wanted to scream your lungs out but you restrained yourself from doing so. you couldn't breathe properly the moment when you're standing outside your house. you hoped that they went to other places again without telling you, and even just a few hours could actually spare you from unwanted circumstances.

you've learnt that crying, pleading and begging was pointless, you didn't dare to push your father away when his leather belt hit on your skin. your father used violence as a way to beat the imagination out of you and keep your light from shining too brightly;

"failure, obey the rules, keep your voice down, if you are not careful, you will be abandoned..."

every time he beat you, one or a combination of those messages was meant to enter your flesh, like splashing cold water on your burn areas over and over again; as a reminder for you to meditate on and pray through tears.

because broken youths were meant to be broken, and you have lived a miserable life.

you could feel your neighbors staring at you whenever you walked down the streets, you forced yourself to shrug it off whenever they gave you a look of disgust, pointing behind your back and started to gossip about your parents, which they almost killed your classmate's mother. it was said that the tongue was sharper than a sword, there was no doubt of that. a sword wound may heal, but the wound of someone's words breaking your heart might not. you were enraged, you didn't choose to live with them. why did you need to bear the responsibilities even though you clearly knew that it was not your fault? why did you keep running away?

the summer sun beat upon your back relentlessly, forcing beads of sweat down your forehead. summer weather was driving you crazy, and yet you're trying to run away from a bunch of girls from your class. your body, and especially your hair were covered with sticky liquid as they threw eggs on you - you bite your lip when a small rock hits your head, and you could hear the shouts and sadistic laughter behind you. without thinking, you quickly went to a small alley and hid beside a trash can. your body started to tremble when you heard footsteps approaching you. you kept holding your breath, thinking that it would help you to be more quiet.

"i didn't see her coming here, himari." one of your ex-classmates - aiko, told her as she snorted with laughter. "are you sure? i think we saw her -"

"don't you believe me? mari chan?" her childhood friend asked her innocently, the red-haired female shivered as aiko called out by her nickname, a hint of sarcasm going right over her head. himari rolled her eyes as she asked her other friends to follow her to another street, as she was determined to hunt you down. "that bitch stole my money, how annoying! i'm so going to beat her until she's begging me to stop!"

you clenched your fist, and your nails dug into your palms. your blood pressure skyrocketed, she made several false accusations of you and people actually believed her. you tried to explain, you hoped other people would think rationally and voiced out their opinions - you wish they could tell himari that everything was just a misunderstanding. you hoped that everyone could give you a chance to clear yourself, but you knew that it wasn't going to happen.

you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. after that, you stood up and noticed a crumpled piece of paper beside you. you hesitantly took the paper and read it, you have nowhere to run and the only good hiding place, for now, was your house.

"(y/n), run now. i will try to distract them." - aiko

you're on the brink of tears when you see this little note that aiko wrote for you. you thought everyone in this town was cruel, one of your neighbors witnessed the whole situation when you're running away from the girls, your eyes pleading him to save you, maybe he could invite you over to his house and wait until the sun sets, or maybe told the girls not to chase you again because you didn't do anything to them - but he didn't, he didn't even try to save you, you saw him quickly went back to his house and shut the door. at that moment, you could feel your heart shattered into pieces, why were they doing this to you?

you sighed loudly, putting the note inside your pocket. you were crying when you're running towards your house, you didn't feel like going back and yet this was the only solution for you to get rid of the bullies. your legs get really wobbly when you're standing outside your house, staring at the wooden door. you took a deep breath before you went in, you pushed the door open a crack, the smell of cigarette smoke lingered around the house. there were clothes scattered around the dirty floor, candy wrappers so old that turned into dust on the table, and a half-eaten bacon cheese sandwich lay on the chipped blue plate, accompanied by two empty beer cans. your mother was sitting on the sofa, taking out a cigarette from the pack and placing it on her lips, you waited for her to remove the cigarette from her lips as you wanted to inform her that you're back. she turned around and saw you standing there, and her face immediately darkens to a deep red and you knew that she was angry.

"(y/n), where is my food?"

"shit. I must've dropped it when I was...getting chased by the girls..."

just when you wanted to explain, your mother stood up and shoved you away, getting her keys and purse while glaring at you. "you can't even do a simple thing right! what are you?! an idiot?!" she let out a groan of frustration before opening the door.

"just die already." her words stung harder than a slap across the face.

you really wanted to cry right now, but you knew that it was impossible to cry when your father was going to come back after an hour. he will hit you with his belt again if he saw a single tear in your eye,

"why are you crying? you should be happy that i'm your father ! why are you crying?...why..."

damn it, you didn't want to experience it again. you get new bruises and scars every day, and what if your father used boiling water to splash all over your body? you really didn't want it to happen, it was too...overwhelming for you.

you quickly went to your room and shut the door, wrapping yourself a blanket and stared at the wall blankly. the light from the sun shone through the window, but instead of feeling hot, you felt yourself shivered slightly when you thought about those bullies and your parents.

"i've lived enough, i'm so scared...i'm so tired..."

you put the blanket aside as you took out a blade from your drawer and put it on the table. you're trembling, you're struggling to breathe, you're so dizzy to the point that you wanted to bang your head against the wall and screamed - you wanted everyone to listen to you, well, at least giving you a chance to explain yourself, but you never got the chance to voice out your feelings, because they never cared about you, not even one bit. what's the point of living? you didn't have any friends, and your parents treated you badly, so why? why are you still living?

you laughed bitterly, and you didn't hesitate to cut both of your veins. you laid on your bed as your head started to spin. you didn't hurt, you thought you would be actually hurting, which you didn't. that was okay, because you're not a fan of hurting. everything seemed distant and unreal, you had no desire to move. moving didn't seem to be an option anyway. you closed your eyes shut as you could feel yourself dying. but letting go was a relief, right? your breathing was getting slower and slower, your heartbeat - was your heart even beating? you couldn't feel it at all, maybe it had stopped. you didn't mind at all, you've been suffering since you're a child and now it was time for you to rest. the memories floated in and out of your head, as vivid as if you're living through the experience all over again.

suddenly, a light came. you saw something, something at once beautiful and terrible, and you knew it had come for you.

"(y/n) - san."

you heard someone calling your name, was it a dream?

death wasn't supposed to be like this, isn't it? and now you're standing in your room, looking at your body with pure amazement. you thought they're going to take you somewhere else, like going to a sort of tunnel, with a bright light at the end of it, and angels will be there to greet you. but now, you were still standing there in a fixed position. there was no tunnel, no line of people waiting to greet you.

"(y/n) - san, are you alright?" you turned around and saw a guy who was holding a folder, his blue coloured eyes looking at you with concern. "i know this sounds really awkward but... no angels are coming for you, (y/n). i will be taking you to the afterlife now." you covered your mouth as your face turned red due to embarrassment.

"how - i didn't say anything!" "i have the ability to read minds, (y/n) - san."

you took a good look at him, he was wearing a black grim reaper cloak and a pair of black shoes. he has black messy hair and slightly thick eyebrows, you could already sense that this man didn't like to talk that much. you sighed and looked at your body again, you could see blood staining on your bedsheets and the blade was on the floor. you winced slightly when you looked at your appearance once again, slightly disgusted by the fact that your mouth was opened wide and your hair was oily and sticky.

your father suddenly burst into your room, and you reacted instinctively in hiding behind the grim reaper's back. your whole body was trembling, you gripped on his cloak as your eyes glued shut, not wanting to know what happened next. "mr.gr-grim reaper, can we go now?"

he chuckled softly and faced you, "yeah and - by the way, just call me akaashi."

───

NAME : (Y/N)

BORN : 1961

DIED : 1979

sin: committed suicide.

#haikyuu #haikyuufic #moonboofic #iwaizumihajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi fic

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 3 years

Text

Bodyguard IV: Vegas Lights (Chapter Six) (B. Urie x Reader)

"DAMN BOYS," Ambrose wolf-whistled, letting his gaze wonder up and down as he approached you and Brendon at the bar with Reigns and Rollins in tow, "Have you ever seen anyone so attractive? So undeniably sexy?" He bit his lip and nodded appreciatively, then looked at you and gave a big smile. "Oh hey, (Y/N). You look good, too."

Unimpressed and unamused by his colleague's teasing, Brendon delivered a death stare in the Hound's direction before softly clicking his tongue and downing the remainder of his drink.

"Back so soon; I guess that means that the mission was successful?" you queried, arching a brow as you addressed the towering agents.

"Well it was definitely... eventful," Rollins answered. Your bodyguard's jaw tensed at the choice of words.

As Rollins and Reigns stepped around to properly greet you, Brendon took the opportunity to grip Ambrose's jacket and yank him closer. He growled lowly into his ear.

"The fuck are you guys doing back? And be warned that there's only one acceptable answer to that question."

The agents were so close to one another that Dean could smell the bourbon on Brendon's breath, and feel the vibrations of his voice on his skin. The blond gently shoved him back and smoothed the creases Brendon's fist had created in his jacket.

"Ease up on the suit, dude – it's a rental," the Hound complained, maintaining a perfectly jovial expression despite the furious one adorned on his counterpart's face, "And to answer your question... we're back because we got a lead."

Brendon frowned. "What kind of a lead?"

"The kind that-"

"Ambrose!" Your voice pierced through the air and halted their conversation, prompting them to both look to you expectantly. "Your friends are wusses. Wanna do tequila shots with me?"

Behind you, Reigns and Rollins stood vigourously shaking their heads and mouthing the word 'NO' over and over. As always, the third Hound totally disregarded his friends' instructions and proceeded to do his own thing.

"Fuck yeah!" He strutted over and picked up the salt shaker from the bar top. "When in Vegas..."

Cheering, you picked up a second shaker and the two of you went through the motions of taking a tequila shot. You were busy downing the alcohol when Rollins sidled up next to a seething Brendon.

"You wanna explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Puffing out his cheeks and exhaling, Rollins turned to face Brendon and began speaking in a hushed tone.

"Alright so, two things... one, we got a lead for this 'runaway-couple' mission and that's why we're back."

Now properly irritated, Brendon had to physically grip the edge of the bar to keep from lashing out. He'd given them explicit instructions to not return until they'd done what they were supposed to, and yet, return is what they did.

"You couldn't have called?" the brooding agent grumbled. "(Y/N) and I could've handled it. You had more important things to take care of."

Pushing himself away from the bar stool he'd been leaning against, Rollins straightened himself up and pointed at the other agent.

"Which brings me to thing number two – we didn't find Mason. BUT," the Architect made sure to elaborate as quickly as possible, "we're pretty sure that he's dead."

Red.

Red was all that Brendon saw.

However, for the sake of not drawing attention and blowing their cover, he suppressed his rage.

"Prettysure?" he echoed, voice eeriely calm, "You're prettysure? Do you have any idea what I will-"

"Before you bring the place down..." Rollins held his hands out in an attempt to combat the hostility radiating off of Brendon. "We have it on good authority that he's dead."

Taking a step forward, Brendon leaned in and narrowed his eyes. His tongue darted across his bottom lip. "And whose authority would that be, exactly?"

"A friend."

The Hound's face was earnest; he was clearly wholly convinced that the information he'd received was correct, and upon realising this, Brendon relaxed ever so slightly. He trusted the man in front of him, and would take his word as truth.

"Okay." Standing down, Brendon nodded slowly. "Okay. Good."

The sound of what was your and Ambrose's fourth tequila shot glass clinking against the top of the bar reverberated through the area, immediately drawing the attention of the two agents. Reigns was trying to prevent you from going in for another, but was failing miserably.

With frustrated sighs, Brendon and Seth made their way over and wrestled the shot glasses away from both of you.

"Will you quit it?" Rollins scolded his friend, knocking the plate of lemon slices away with a scowl. "We can't follow through with the plan if you're wasted."

"And the plan is what, exactly?" Brendon queried, furrowing his brow as he wiped the grains of salt off of your hand.

The three Hounds shared an unreadable look, then all stared at Brendon uneasily.

"We think it's a solid one," Reigns explained, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets and cocking one brow, "But you're not gonna like it..."

✧✧✧

Twenty minutes later. The music lounge.

"Just tell me what the plan is," you groaned, tugging on Brendon's arm while you had a hand wrapped around it.

The Hounds had explained what the lead was – according to their source, there was a concealed area of the casino that the kidnappers operated out of and wherein the abducted couples were held until transport. This 'lair' was reportedly accessible through the back area of the music lounge.

As far as leads went, this one wasn't particularly plausible, but it was the only one any of you had conjured up so far, and all of you were firm believers that any and all leads should be followed up on.

Your bodyguard and the other three agents had rudely excluded you from the earlier discussion of what exactly the plan involved, so as you shuffled along the carpeted lounge floor, you were entirely in the dark about what was about to go down.

"Nope."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you're drunk." He looked at you disapprovingly. "And we can't take any chances. So you'll just sit right here," he led you to one of the couches and gently guided you into the seat, "and let us handle it."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Typical men. Always thinking you're better because you got the muscles and the charm and the-" you made a disgusted face "-testosterone. I could totally pull off this plan, you know!"

"Of course you could, babe." Glancing over his shoulder, he motioned something to one of the passing waiters before refocusing on you. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head to the side and raised his brows. "But not like this."

You clicked your tongue and waved one hand dismissively. "I'm fine."

"You most definitely are not. And I must say, I'm crazy disappointed in how low your tolerance is."

"Whatever," you mumbled, slouching back into the soft couch and gazing out across the lounge.

Moments later, Brendon placed a ginger ale on the table in front of you. "Drink up. It'd be nice if you were at least slightly sober for this."

You obliged, and with the straw dancing across your lips, you frowned up at him. "For what?"

"This."

The alcohol coursing through your veins had slowed down your brain's processing abilities greatly, and it was only once Brendon was standing on stage with a microphone in his hand that you fully comprehended what was going on.

"Oh... my... god."

The opening notes of a song you didn't recognise blared through the speakers scattered around the lounge, garnering the attention of every person in the room and drawing their eyes toward the stage. The stage on which your bodyguard stood, face as emotionless as ever, but hands gripping the micstand with familiarity.

You stared, wholly captivated, watching as his hands slowly danced along the shaft of the mic, his fingers tapping along to the music that sounded through the air. As the gentle beat in the opening picked up, it was joined by a guitar riff, and when the drums jumped in soon after, your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets as you saw how Brendon reacted to it.

His usually perfectly quiffed hair bounded out of place as he banged his head back and forth, rocking out to the track with such vigour that you were completely convinced that the man that stood up there was not your stone-hearted, icy bodyguard.

But then he started singing.

And you knew that it most definitely was.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, burn my lungs and curse my eyes," he started, silencing everyone and everything in the room.

"I've lost control and I don't want it back; I'm going numb, I've been hijacked," he sang, slightly bumping up and down to the melody, "It's a fucking drag..."

He locked eyes with you, peering deep into your soul, and proceeded to sing his heart out.

"I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you,

So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do,

Yeah, you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeah, you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeah..."

Stepping down from the stage, he ran a hand through his hair to push it back and swaggered over in your direction. Heart hammering in your chest, all you could do was sit there and watch; you couldn't speak, you couldn't move, you couldn't even think.

You were entirely puzzled as to why he was doing this, especially since he'd so often reminded you that he "doesn't sing." But you didn't dare question it. It was far too magical.

His voice was so powerful yet so angelic and each time he started singing again, you were drawn back in. You watched, entranced, as he commanded the room in such an effortless manner it was unreal.

Diverting his path, he turned to the right of you and began singing to the lady in red sitting alone at a table.

"It's better to burn than to fade away, it's better to leave than to be replaced,"

She blushed, clearly flattered, and you scoffed under your breath. Before the jealously could really set in though, he pulled away and strutted over to another table. This one had a group of girls around it – all of whom were shamelessly gawking at the gorgegous man performing in front of them.

"I'm losing to you,

Baby, I'm no match,

I'm going numb, I've been hijacked,

It's a fucking drag," he serenaded each one of them in turn, and they were practically drooling over him.

The intial shock and elatedness at hearing him sing had worn off now – mostly due to his show of obnoxious flirting – and you sat back in the couch, unimpressed.

Thankfully, he moved away from the girls before any of them could grab onto him. Now, he sashayed across the dance floor and towards the bar with each and every pair of eyes in the room focused on his every move, all of which were incredibly graceful and showman-like.

Reaching out to grab the edge of the bar top, he used it to spin himself around as he delivered the pre-chorus for the second time.

"I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you,

So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do,"

In a movement so fluid and quick, he darted his eyes over to the far end of the lounge. It was so subtle and undercover that you were the only one able to catch it; and that was merely because of your heightened senses and agent training.

Knitting your brows together, you looked over to where he had and noticed something you hadn't before – a door, secluded and hidden in the dark but nevertheless surrounded by two bouncers.

At face value, they could've passed as regular patrons of the casino, but their burly nature and stiff body language told you that they were more than that. Although, judging by the tapping of their feet and slight bobbing of their heads, they were enjoying Brendon's performance just as much as everyone else.

And then it dawned on you.

Straightening up in your seat, you turned back around and watched wide-eyed as Brendon climbed atop the bar in one swift movement.

This was a distraction.

"Yeah, you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeah, you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeah,"

The agent leapt off the bar, pressing his feet to the backrest of one of the stools and using it to slide down to the floor. Your eyebrows raised and you couldn't help but smile at his smooth moves.

Yet again, he approached a woman. This one, however, was with a partner and as a show of respect, Brendon didn't spend toomuch time serenading her.

"Just one more hit and then we're through,

'Cause you could never love me back,"

He turned his attention fully on you, as he started taking slow steps to your table. The two of you locked eyes again, and your lips parted slightly as he got closer.

"Cut every tie I have to you,

'Cause your love's a fucking drag,

But I need it so bad," he closed his eyes and shook his head lightly, now practically right in front of you.

"Your love's a fucking dra-a-a-ag,

But I need it so bad."

He ran his fingers along your cheek and you leaned into his touch. Preparing to belt out the final chorus, he took one step back and ran his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeah you're worse than nicotine,

Nicotine,

Yeahhhhh."

Pulling you up and out of your seat, Brendon gripped you flush against his body and as the audience in the lounge gave him a standing ovation, hegave youthe most passionate kiss of your life.

So passionate, in fact, that you nearly passed out.

"Hey," he whispered, steadying you as your knees buckled, "You alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah," you were breathless, both from the kiss and from his performance.

"Good." He looked over his shoulder, noting that the two bouncers were now gone. "Let's get out of here."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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imaginedisish · 5 years

Text

Supersymmetry (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: OH HEEYYYYY!!!! I promised you guys an angsty, fluffy fic, SO HERE IT IS!!! This is based off of a request, as well as an Arcade Fire song, aka Supersymmetry. (go listen to it uwu). Anyway, a quick note, Five and the reader are 17 here...I didn’t know how to fit that in the story. I tried...but Five’s age is kinda ambiguous, so I put it here :) Once again, Five and the reader are BOTH 17! Also...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!!! YOU GUYS MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!! Okay, it’s 2:47am...and I have school tomorrow....night guys...ENJOY!

Summary: You’re in love with Five, and he has no idea. You decide to finally confess your feelings for him, when suddenly, Vanya attacks the Academy, and all hell breaks loose...

Warnings: ANGST, violence, blood, fighting, stabbing, implied death, language, flufffffff is guaranteed don’t fret kiddos.

Word Count: 3,484 (when you think it’s over...it isn’t over...)

Moonlight glimmers through the massive windows, dancing upon the dusty shelves and books that begged to be opened. The sound of crickets gossiping from just outside the Academy echoes throughout the library. In fact, if one listened closely enough, they could make out the faint sound of summer rain tapping lightly against the sidewalks. The air felt cool, yet damp, almost if that very same rain had somehow walked into the room, leaving a trail of its energy behind.

You take a deep breath as you flip the page of the worn out book in your hand. You had read the novel at least a million times, but no passage in The Great Gatsby, or any other novel for that matter, got to you quite like Nick’s description of Gatsby’s death. You shiver a bit as chills roll down your spine.

A familiar, brown haired, blued eyed boy pops his head through the archway farthest away from where you were sitting. “Mind if I join you?” He asks, smirking a bit, his bangs falling perfectly against his forehead. He takes a step forward, and leans against the archway. He crosses his arms against his chest.

You can’t help but smile as you pat the cushion next to you, motioning for Five to sit down. He walks over, sitting a bit closer to you than you had expected. In his hand is a copy of Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. He leans back, extending his legs to the coffee table in front of you. You steal a quick glance at Five before returning back to your book.

Something about the moment felt unreal. Maybe it was the way Five’s eyes captured the moonlight, accentuating the vibrance in his blue eyes, all while somehow increasing your attraction towards him, something you thought was impossible. Regardless, in that moment you knew completely that you were in love with Five, and that you had been in love with him for a while.

You had met Five in the library one day while you were researching precognition and psychokinesis. For years your parents told you that you were strange, and somewhat cursed by a set of evil abilities. They medicated you to suppress your powers. Eventually, you recognized the terribleness in what they were putting you through, and you stopped taking your medication. The unfortunate downside to all this was the fact that you struggled controlling your psychokinesis and precognition. And, at times, your precognition was a curse rather than a blessing. You saw things you never wanted to see, for people you didn’t even know. All you knew was that these were futures you had to change.

If you hadn’t met Five that day at the library, you would have been lost. Somehow, he knew you weren’t “normal”. He could tell that you had abilities by the electricity in your eyes, the clear anxiety stretched across your face as you turned the pages of the book you were reading through.

He had also said there was a connection between you two. A certain, supersymmetry.

“Let me help you,” He had said.

And you did.

That was about a year ago. Now your powers were much more developed, and much more controlled. Prior to Five’s help, along with the help of his siblings, you began to feel so much more comfortable. Your parents had seen you as a freak, someone who wasn’t worth anything. They made you so self conscious about yourself, to the point where you didn’t think you would ever belong somewhere.

Five however, made you feel important. He made you feel whole again. He made you feel so valued. For once in your life, you felt like you belonged.

Five silently moved a bit closer to you, the feeling of his shoulder brushing lightly up against yours snapping you back to reality. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you can feel yourself turning red. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you can no longer concentrate on your book.

Five looks over to you, instantly recognizing that something was wrong. “Hey, are you alright?” His right hand reaches to hold your own. You swallow harshly as you feel his thumb softly brushing over the top of your hand. You wanted to tell him how you felt, right then and there.

“Y-yeah I’m okay,” You stutter. “It’s just this part of the book, it gets me a bit worked up,” You lie.

“Are you sure?” Five continues to question, adjusting himself so that his body faces you. “If something is wrong, you can talk to me about. You know I’m here for you,” He pauses, looking deeply into your eyes, “I’m always here for you.”

Five leans in a bit, studying your face carefully, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips. He’s inches away from you now. Five swallows harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You can feel his breath dance delicately against your cheeks.

There’s a tension in the air that you can’t describe as Five’s lips part. “Can I kiss you?” Five breathes, swallowing harshly again. You nod your head.

Five’s lips collide with yours. The kiss is soft and innocent. You close your eyes as your heart flutters in your chest, butterflies raging in the pit of your stomach. You had wanted this for so long. You feel so connected to Five, like supersymmetry.

Five’s warm lips pull away from yours, and you open your eyes.

Five smiles widely. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” He says, his face still inches away from yours. He nervously scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you would want to, well, you know…” He trails off.

You shake your head. “I’ve liked you for such a long time, Five,” You explain. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”

Five looks off to the fireplace at the other end of the room. “I don’t know, I don’t feel like I’m not good enough for you. Why would someone like you want someone like me?”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Five was one of the most amazing people you had ever met. You take a deep breath, realizing what you needed to say. “Five, I’ve been in love with you for months now. The question is, why wouldn’t someone like me want someone like you?”

Five’s head whips back towards you. “You love me?”

Shit, I said that too soon, You think to yourself. Fuck, it’s too late now. “Y-yes,” You stutter. “I love you.”

The corners of Five’s mouth instantly turn up. “I lo-,”

Diego cuts Five off, rushing into the room, knives in his hands, fear in his eyes. His face was pale. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. “Five! (Y/N)! We’ve got a bit of a problem on our hands…”

Suddenly, the windows lining the walls of the library violently swing open, and an intense, cold wind rushes through the room. Books fly off the shelves, pages tearing out due to the sheer pressure. Five grabs onto your hand, squeezing tightly.

“It can’t be,” Five says, standing up, still holding your hand in his. You stand up with him. “We locked her away, for good this time,” Five shouts in annoyance. You look at Five, the color drained from his face, his eyes frantically searching Diego’s for some sort of explanation.

“She’s here, Five. She’s in the courtyard, and she’s asking for (Y/N),” Diego says, his voice shaky. He anxiously runs a hand through his hair.

Dammit, You think to yourself. Vanya. Vanya had lost her temper once before, around the time that the Hargreeves took you into the Academy, and you had all agreed that it would be best to find a safe place to keep Vanya until she learned to control her powers. They didn’t want to emotionally instabilities and hurt Vanya further, but more importantly, they didn’t want her to have the opportunity to hurt a single person.

Five shakes his head in disbelief. “What the hell does Vanya want with (Y/N)?” Five questions, anger prevalent in his voice. “I swear to God, if she lays one hand on (Y/N), or does anything to hurt her, I’m going to mur-,”

Diego cuts Five off. “She’s your sister, you’re not going to kill her.”

Five rolls his eyes, letting go of your hand as he steps closer to Diego. “No, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure nothing happens to (Y/N). If that means killing the person who has caused us so much pain and loss over the past two years, then that’s just what has to be done.” Five’s finger aggressively presses against Diego’s chest, his nose scrunched up in rage.

“Or I can just go out there and see what it is she wants. I can handle myself, you know,” You say, your arms folding across your chest.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pain pressing against the side of your head. Fuck not now, You think to yourself as a vision of the future begins to display itself in your mind.

There was Vanya, across from Five. You were nowhere to be seen.

“She did this! She took my place! I’m supposed to be Number Seven! Not her!” Vanya screams at the top of her lungs.

“Vanya, you need to calm down!” Five shouts back, stepping closer towards Vanya.

“I am The White Violin! And don’t you dare fucking tell me to calm down!” Vanya says, running towards Five, her bow in her hand. Five attempts to teleport to the other side of the courtyard, but his powers refuse to cooperate.

“Vanya stop!" Five yells, backing up. But he’s trapped. She approaches him, bow in hand, ready to strike. She pulls back, then-

You fall to your knees, head in your hands. You begin to sob uncontrollably. You can’t, no you refuse, to fathom what it was you had just seen.

“(Y/N)?” Five calls out, dropping down to your side, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “What happened? Did you see something?”

You can’t speak. You can’t get the image of Five dying out of your mind. You move your body so that you’re crying into Five’s chest, his warmth calming you down a bit.

“Guys,” a new voice interjects. “No one told me about the psychotic woman in the courtyard. Now be honest, who ordered her to play the violin for us? I won’t be mad. I’m sure you had good intentions!” You knew instantly that it was Klaus, based on the fact that he was trying to make a joke out of a serious situation. You look up at him, expecting him to be chill, nonchalant, ready to crack another joke, but fear filled his face.

You pull apart from Five, pushing off the cold ground with your hands to stand up. “I have to go out there,” You say softly. “She’s here because of me.”

Five stands up, grabbing your wrist. “No, she’s just going to hurt you. I’ll go out there. I can talk her down. She trusts me.”

You shake your head, pulling away from Five once again. You take a deep breath. “N-not according to the v-vision I just h-had,” You say nervously. “F-five, sh-she…” You pause, anxiously scratching your forearm. “She k-killed y-you.” Tears fill your eyes. “I have to go out there. It can’t be you. Your powers are going to stop working due to her manipulation of the atmosphere, she knows how to best you. Sh-she knows h-how to d-destroy y-you.”

Silence looms over the room. You feel the wind picking up as more books fly off the shelves. Suddenly, all at once, the windows shatter.

“Fuck!” Diego screams, crouching down, holding his hands over his ears as shards of glass rain down. “We need to do something!”

Klaus nods his head in agreement as he crouches down next to Diego. You and Five crouch down as well. A few seconds pass by before it seems as though things had calmed down a bit. The wind, however, persisted.

“It has to be me,” You exclaim as you stand back up, walking towards the nearest door to the courtyard.

“You can’t do this, (Y/N)! Look what Vanya’s capable of! I can’t lose you!” Five yells, his voice struggling to carry over the wind.

“I’m sorry, Five,” You say, picking up your speed as you run out of the room, struggling to move against the wind.

“No!” You hear Five’s voice echo behind you. You turn around to see Klaus and Diego holding Five back, kicking and screaming like a child. You wish you hadn’t turned around. Turning around is never a good idea…ever. It makes you see a second option, another choice. You could go back, let someone else take their chance at stopping Vanya.

But in reality, you had no choice. It was just the allusion of choice. If you turned around, someone else would die, and eventually Vanya would most likely find a way kill you anyway. She was here for you, and that was exactly what she was going to get.

Tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you recognize what it was you were about to do. You were sacrificing yourself for the others. You knew it had to be done, you knew there was no other way. You needed to save Five. He’s survived through so much, he could get through losing you. And after all, as your parents had so often reminded you, you were worthless. He’d get over you quickly enough.

You begin to sob as you approach the set of French doors that led to the courtyard. You carefully maneuver around the broken shards of glass on the ground so you could open the door. Your hand rests on the handle.

This is it, here we go, You think to yourself. You twist the handle, and you pull the door open.

The wind outside is even more intense. You can barely breathe. Rain taps away at the concrete. Vanya is in the center of the courtyard, levitating about three feet in the air. An ominous blue light surrounds her, and garden chairs swirl about her. Broken pots and other items are scattered across the ground in a huge mess.

“Vanya!” You call out, your voice weak from crying. Still, somehow, she hears you clearly. The objects spinning around her stop, and they remain suspended in air.

“My name is no longer Vanya!” She screams. “It’s White Violin!” With a single look, Vanya lifts a piece of broken glass, and sends it flying towards you. You extend your right hand out, stopping the shard just inches away from your face.

You swallow harshly. “Let me talk to you, Vanya. I can fix this!” You shout.

Vanya scoffs. “You took my place, (Y/N)! I’m Number Seven. You’re nothing. You’re worthless! You aren’t even one of the 43 babies! What are you? Seventeen years old? You’re a child!”

Her words are far too familiar to you. They sound exactly like your parents. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks rapidly. Amidst all the chaos, all you can think about is the hell you had endured for years. You close your eyes as you flashback to your mother telling you that she didn’t love you, your father essentially disowning you, and finally, being kicked out of your own home.

Then, an idea pops into your mind. “Vanya, I know how it feels to be hurt, to feel like you don’t have a place, to feel different. We’re more similar than you think. Together, we can get through this. I can help y-,”

Your words are interrupted by a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You grab at the area, and you feel a sharp object. You look down, your hands and clothing now covered in blood. An incredibly large shard of glass sticks out of your stomach. You look up towards Vanya, and back down to where she had stabbed you. You fall to the ground.

The cold wind passes through your body. The concrete underneath you is unwelcoming and frigid. How did all this happen? You think to yourself. How did I not see this coming? I’m so naive. I thought I could help her…fix her.

“(Y/N)!” You hear Five’s voice call out. “No, no, no!” Five hovers over you, his hand coming down to your cheek. “Stay with me, please.”

“I-I’m s-so sorry,” You croak, the pain worsening.

“No, don’t apologize, please don’t do that,” Tears stream down Five’s face. He takes a deep breath. “I love you. I meant to say that before all of this happened. I’m in love with you, (Y/N), please just stay with me.”

You smile weakly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt sooner. I just need you to know-,”

Five cuts you off, his warm lips pressing against yours. The kiss is quick, and you wish it could’ve lasted longer. “No, you aren’t saying goodbye to me, not yet. Stay with me, please.” Five kisses your forehead lightly. “I can’t lose you.” His hands are trembling as his thumb softly brushes your left cheek. You feel that connection again, the connection you had felt when Five had kissed you in the library just minutes ago. Supersymmetry.

You hear Vanya’s voice echo throughout the courtyard. “It had to be done, Five. She took my place. She ruined everything for me!” Five’s eyes shut tightly at her words, tears flowing freely from his eyes.

Five opens his ocean blue eyes again, his bangs resting against his forehead. He studies your face carefully. “I’m so sorry that you’ll have to be here for this, but it has to be done,” Five says, standing up.

You’re beyond confused. What is he talking about? You think to yourself. “F-Five…” You trail off, too drained of energy to be able to say anything.

“Hey Vanya!” Five yells out. “Think fucking fast!”

You can’t see what happens, but you hear a singular gun shot ring out. Suddenly, the wind stops. You hear a clatter of things falling to the ground, and then everything turns to black.

Your eyes flutter open. The world is white. You look around, but it seems as though there is nothing to be seen. You sit up from the soft, white bed you had been laying on. You swing your feet around to the right side, and you stand up. The floor beneath your feet is warm and inviting. You turn around, and you see a figure with long brown hair, dressed in white.

You immediately know who it is.

“Vanya?” You call out. Vanya turns around to face you, a small, sad, apologetic smile spread across her face.

She begins to walk towards you. “I’m so sorry,” She whispers. “You have no idea how sorry I am, (Y/N).”

In that moment, it felt as though you two were being brought together by some outside presence. You were connected. It was supersymmetry.

“I know. I am too.”

Vanya then disappears into nothingness, and a welcoming, calming presence takes you away.

Your eyes open groggily, rays of light pouring into the room. You spot Five slumped in a chair next to the bed you were laying in. You seem to be in an infirmary. “Wh-what happened?” You say, struggling to sit up.

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” Five says softly, almost in disbelief, rushing over to your side. “I thought I’d never see those eyes again,” He chuckles lightly, clearly fighting through the pain he had been feeling. You can’t help but smile.

Suddenly, memories of what had happened come back to you in bits and pieces.

“How long was I unconscious for?” You ask, searching Five’s piercing blue eyes for an answer.

“Only about twenty four hours, but they were the longest twenty four hours of my life. We weren’t sure if you were…” Five trails off, looking down at his feet. “I-If you were going to make it.”

“And Vanya?” You question, even though you’re almost more than certain that you knew the answer.

“She didn’t make it,” Five says, his voice filled with remorse, tears filling his eyes. “I had to do it, (Y/N). She would’ve hurt other people.”

You grab his hand. “You don’t need to justify what you did. You did the right thing,” You say reassuringly.

“When I saw what she did to you, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t lose you,” He shakes his head.

“And you didn’t. You never will,” You say to Five.

There was that feeling again, that connection…supersymmetry.

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outerspaceisbetterthannothing · 5 years

Text

Blame [Surgeon!Calum AU] Ch.7

Summary: What do you do if the only person you feel the connection to is the person you blamed for your sibling’s death?

Warnings: description of unpleasant sexual experience, mental breakdown and infant death

AN: Oh, wow, can’t really believe that i’m updating this fic, but here we are. Sorry it took so long and thank you if you kept waiting. Feedback is highly appreciated as always. Enjoy!

***

“Dad?”

The house answered with an echo of the word. Anna looked around. Lights were out in the kitchen and living room. Only the wall lamps in the hall were glowing softly, making everything look a little surreal in the shade of twilight.

“Dad, I’m home!” Anna tried again, but the house answered with the same silence.

She felt a rush of anxiety. Her dad knew she was about to come. Where was he? Where was everyone? Did anything happened? Anna dropped her bag right next to the door and moved to the stairs.

She saw it instantly, like she was expecting it. The door to the nursery, the one locked by Max weeks ago, was open. The only light was streaming from that room. Anna heard quiet sobs and gripped on the railing, her knuckles turning white. She wasn’t supposed to see that room. How come she did?

Anna entered the nursery.

“Mom?” she called.

Jennifer was standing next to the crib, clenching on the blue blanket they had brought to the hospital for Grayson. Her shoulders were shaking and her face was tear-stained, when she looked up at Annabelle.

“Mom, you shouldn’t have-” Anna started, her eyes filling with tears, but Jennifer closed the distance between them and hugged Anna, burying her face in Anna’s hair. “I’m so sorry, Anna, so so sorry,” she whispered.

“Mom, what are you apologizing for?”

Jennifer sniffed, letting go of Anna and looking her in the eyes. “I’ve dragged you through all of it, honey,” she said.

Anna felt her heart break at these words. “You’re not dragging me through anything, Mom. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault,” she took a deep breath, trying to push back the tears. “Let’s go downstairs, you shouldn’t have seen this anyway.”

Anna tried to pull her Mom to the door, but Jennifer shook her head, not moving from her spot.

“No, my darling, I should have seen it,” she looked around the nursery. “We’ll never overcome it unless we go through it. Hiding and running away won’t do the trick.”

Jennifer let go of Anna’s hand she was holding and moved to the window, painted light blue color Anna had spent days choosing in July. She stroked the windowsill and sighed again. “I needed to see it. As I need to acknowledge the fact that my baby will never sleep here to move on and start healing.”

She turned back and looked at Anna, who stopped trying to keep her tears inside. They were streaming down her face and Anna didn’t attempt to wipe them away.

“You need it too,” Jennifer said. “Whatever it is what holds you from grieving, you should let it go, Anna. You need to go through it all, no matter how difficult it is, or it’ll crash you.”

Anna looked away at these words, feeling everything freeze inside her. She was grieving, wasn’t she? More than her Mom knew.

“I’m going through it, you don’t have to worry,” she said more just to say something, than because she really meant it.

She saw her Mom smile and nod and knew Jennifer didn’t believe a word. But Anna also knew her Mom well enough to know she wasn’t going to push it further.

“I love it, you know,” she said, making Anna look at her with a puzzled expression. “The nursery,” Jennifer explained. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much for decorating it and the paintings.”

Anna shook her head as her Mom came up to her again and stroke her hair. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

“Yes, I do,” Jennifer insisted, hugging Annabelle again. “So thank you, my beautiful strong girl.”

Anna sobbed, putting her arms around her Mom’s waist and resting her head against Jennifer’s shoulder. “There’s no one stronger than you, Mom.”

***

Calum was sinking in the void. He heard everything like he was underwater, his mind going numb. The world around was slowly dying, disappearing from his perception borders. He always felt like that in the OR, having all his focus on the patient in front of him, forgetting everything that existed behind the doors of a sterile room. He always had only one goal inside these walls. Saving a life.

But today the fog around the operation table was somehow thicker and everything felt more unreal. And when the machines started signalling about the blood pressure being dramatically low, it didn’t mobilized Calum, but only made his numbness worse. He knew that very moment, he wasn’t able to win this fight. To be honest, he knew it long before that, when they opened up the little body and saw the tumour with their own eyes, he knew there was too little of a chance for the success. Yet, when the baby stopped breathing, Calum didn’t stop operating.

He felt his assistant surgeon freeze, saw the hesitation in the eyes of the nurses. But he couldn’t just stop. He was a surgeon, for God’s sake! His job was saving people, not standing and watching them die. So he kept going, was giving the instructions on different medications to use, was trying to set the tiny heart back on, asking the anesthesiologist about the time. Like any time left for them by anesthesiologist mattered now. But when his tiny patient spent five minutes without breathing, he had to finally admit it. He lost his fight. Again.

“Time of death eleven forty-eight.”

His own voice was coming to him through the walls of fog. He stepped back from the table and motioned to the assistant surgeon to finish for him. Calum felt slight trembling in his hands, which never happened to him before. With loud bang, that no one besides him could hear, the walls around him fell down, revealing the truth Calum wasn’t ready to accept.

He lost a patient. He lost another patient and knew fucking nothing of how to deal with that right now.

Calum stormed out of the OR, ripping off the gloves and his operating gown, and strolled down empty hospital corridors. He heard a familiar voice calling on him, but didn’t even try to stop. He rushed through half-empty corridors and hid in the on-call room. He almost hit an intern when opening the door there, but the poor guy disappeared without complaining after just looking at Calum’s face once.

But privacy of the on-call room didn't help. Calum had started moving and couldn’t stop now. He kept pacing around the room, trying to do away with his anger at least like that, but it didn’t seem to help. He heard the door open and close behind his back and threw a hasty look that way. Ashton took couple careful steps closer, but then stopped. He wasn’t in his scrubs already and, obviously, had no idea about what happened in his best friend’s OR.

Calum kept pacing nervously.

“Cal, what happened?” Ashton asked when understood Calum wasn’t going to start talking first.

Calum just shook his head and let out an incoherent groan. Ashton took a deep breath and got ready to wait. He knew Calum well, knew he needed some time to open up and there was no point in pushing. This time it took only couple minutes for Calum to blurt out, “I just keep losing them, Ash. No fucking matter what I do, I still keep losing them.”

Calum stopped his pacing as suddenly as he started talking and looked Ashton in the eye.

“Why the hell does it keep happening?” Calum dropped and froze, his shaking hands the only proof he was a human and not a statue.

Ashton felt cold creep up his spine. Without doubt it was one of the scariest moments of his life, cause for the first time he had no idea what Calum was going to do next. No freaking idea in the world. His eyes were wide open, but the expression in them just as much of a mystery. Ashton took one more step to his friend, ushering “Hey, buddy,” under his voice. But that very moment Calum set in motion again. He exhaled, turned right and with all the desperation he had inside hit his own locker. And then he hit it again. And again. He was hitting it as fast as he could, feeling knuckles burn with pain.

It took Ashton about two seconds to realize what was happening. Two seconds of thinking how it couldn’t be happening, as it couldn’t be Cal, cause Cal could never do anything like that. But there he was right in front of Ashton punching his locker like it was Death himself, and Ashton had to stop him. He rushed to Calum and tried to grab his arms from behind, but succeeded only after the third attempt.

“You’re being an idiot,” he mumbled and pulled Calum away from the lockers, but Cal twitched and managed to move even closer to his improvised punching bag, dragging Ashton with him.

“Bro, stop, you can’t hurt your hands, are you insane?”

But Calum kept trying to fetch away from his hold.

“Dr. Hood,” cold voice rang out in the on-call room, stopping two men wrestling immediately.

Calum froze and Ashton let go of his arms, still keeping an eye on his friend though. They both turned to the door to be met with neonatal department head’s eyes, just as cold as her voice.

“Dr. Campbell,” Ashton greeted the surgeon. Calum stood silent. They both knew what was gonna happen next and good manners weren’t to save him from this.

“As tragic as losing a patient is, Dr. Hood,” she started not raising her voice anymore, “it isn’t a reason to risk your surgeon skills. More than four million infants die in the world every year. You have no right to prevent hundreds of your future patients from getting the help they deserve.”

Aston threw a look at his friend, who didn’t answer anything and was looking somewhere above Dr. Campbell’s head.

The head of department frowned a little at the lack of response, but continued, “I believe you ought to file a report, add all the necessary information to the patient’s chart and talk to the little boy’s parents.”

“With all due respect,” Calum started and for the first time in his life Ashton heard his friend’s voice tremble. It was hardly noticeable, but he knew Calum too well not to hear it. “I’m not sure that I’m the one to do it regarding my state and…”

“He was your patient,” Dr. Campbell interrupted him, “he is your responsibility.”

Calum nodded, his fists squeezed and jaw tensed. Dr. Campbell sighed and went on, “After you finish with those, please, leave the hospital. I don’t want you in my department for the next three days.”

“But I have a shift tomorrow, some surgeries planned!”

“Not anymore,” she shook her head. “And if I see you boxing against lockers ever again, it’ll be not three days off, but an official suspension. Am I being clear here?”

“Yes,” Calum let out through his gritted teeth. He exhaled, like he was preparing for a jump and left the room.

Ashton nodded to Dr. Campbell and took a step forward the exit too, when her voice, much quieter and softer now, stopped him.

“Dr. Irwin, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” Ashton looked at the older surgeon, wondering what could she possibly ask from him.

“Look after Calum,” she uttered, looking him straight in the eye.

Ashton huffed, opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and just nodded.

“What?” Dr. Campbell asked.

“I’m sorry?” “You obviously wanted to say something, Dr. Irwin. Say it, please.”

Ashton took another minute to consider that offer and went on, “Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Campbell, but don’t you think threatening to suspend him is rather harsh?”

She sighed again and looked at the locker which now had dents from Calum’s fists.

“He is by far the most talented surgeon I’ve seen in all years of my career. But he needs to learn the hardest parts of our job before he understands his own greatness.”

Ashton gaped at her, being totally lost for words. He never worked much with Dr. Campbell, but had heard one too many times from Calum how she never praised anyone and the highest level of her approving was her silence. So hearing her say those things right now was almost life altering.

Dr. Campbell turned her eyes to Ashton, nodded one more time, as if she wanted to confirm she truly said what she said, and left the room. Ashton opened Cal’s locker, fixed the bigger dents and closed it. He couldn’t change what was happening to his friend, but he could help at least with that.

***

Cold drizzle was like a thousand stings on Calum’s face. He was trodding home through the dark and wet streets. Early October brought rains and gloom, but Calum was even glad that the nature was so in harmony with his mood.

He fixed the backpack on his shoulder and lowered his head a little not to let raindrops get in the eyes. Dr. Campbell’s rebukes kept replaying in his head. He was pretty used to her cold criticism, but today he couldn’t just accept it like he always did.

More than four million infants. What was the benefit for those infants from his surgical skills if he still continued losing patients? The image of crying boy’s parents cut him like a knife. He brought them the worst news parents could possibly get, and they still thanked him for everything he’d done. Like he had done enough. What was the fucking point in all his work if he couldn’t stop saying all these “Sorry” and “We’ve done everything we could”? What was the fucking point?

He crossed the road, car horns deafening him for a moment and reminding there still was a whole world around Calum he better start paying attention to. But Calum wasn’t ready to pay attention to anything tonight. He just kept thinking. Thinking about his work, his patients, his weakness. Maybe Luke and Mike were right? Maybe choosing a specialisation with such high risks was a mistake after all? Calum shook his head, narrowly escaping crashing into the group of giddy drunk people. He could still remember with what ideas and hopes he came to neonatal surgery so many years ago. He wanted to save lives, wanted to change those numbers. Believed that he was able to make those more than four million less than four million. How much did it say about his ego. And how little about his quality as a surgeon. Maybe, choosing neonatal surgery was a mistake after all.

His phone started vibrating in his jeans pocket. Calum didn’t want to even check who it was at first. Probably Ashton, checking up on him, ready to provide yet another spiritually deep shit about obstacles we had to go through on our way and how the most right paths were the hardest ones. Calum loved his best friend, hell, he considered Ashton to be his brother, just as close and important for him as Mali. But he was in no mood for these wisdom lessons.

But the call didn’t stop even after the third signal and that made Calum doubt it was Ashton. None of his friends were usually holding the call for so long. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the lit up screen. He saw the photo he took at Aubrie’s party. She was smiling shyly and clinging on Anna’s neck, being so touchingly embarrassed in front of the camera. “Annabelle” was written across the picture in black letters.

Calum stopped and sighed. His finger lingered over the green icon, but didn’t tap. His eyes caught on the time and he frowned. There was no way she was calling him at almost one in the morning just to chat. He waited till the call went to the voicemail and the screen went out, and shoved the phone back in his pocket. Somehow this call only made him feel worse. He knew he should have answered, but he was just not in the shape to save young lost girls tonight. And anyway, if things had been different he would have still been in the OR and wouldn’t have answered her call. So probably it all was for the best.

Calum looked up to the pitch black sky and took a deep breath, feeling sharp drops of rain leave imaginary cuts on his face. He just needed to get home and let this awful day finally end. He fixed his backpack again and kept on walking through the dark and wet streets.

***

Anna switched her phone off, not leaving the message, as she was asked, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. He didn’t pick up. Was he busy? Working? Sleeping? Not alone? All these questions running in her mind. She didn’t even know why she called him in the first place. Did she expect him to come save her? Stop her from doing what she was about to do? She let out a humourless laugh and shook her head. She was not a damsel in distress and he was not a knight in shiny armour. Whatever she was about about to do, she did because she wanted to. Because she needed to. To feel something besides emptiness and pain, anything at all.

Loud bang on the door distracted her from her thoughts. She washed her hands and left the toilet, seeing the line that gathered while she was inside.

She was in the bar. She didn’t have an intention to go here, just found herself in front of the door and decided to spend the evening. She thought about texting Allie and Jo, but dismissed that idea instantly. She wasn’t in a mood to see anybody. She just wanted to forget, at least for the night. So she settled at the bar counter and ordered her first drink. She felt anger rising up inside as the alcohol was starting its way along her veins. For the whole week she kept replaying her mother’s words in her head. And each time she was doing it, she was getting more furious. She tried to keep her emotions in check, try not to show to her mom how really difficult it all was for her, for the sake of Jennifer’s sanity. And what did she get in return? An advice to let it all go? To let the grief crash her? To “go through it”, for the fuck’s sake? She shook her head, downing her first glass. She wasn’t going to do anything like that. She grieved and she moved on. Just like people do. But she wasn’t going to let it crash her. She didn’t want it, didn’t want to spend days drowning in her own tears, like her mom did. If letting go meant going through such excruciating pain, then fusk it. She’d rather feel nothing at all.

She asked for another glass, thinking alcohol would make her sleep better, and was determined to leave after finishing it. But then he came up to her. He was rather tall and pretty fine. Anna knew that in any other circumstance she wouldn’t spare the guy another glance. She didn’t get his name, but was pretty sure he didn’t get her name either, so they were even. He was just chatting her up and for now she was satisfied with it. Just as long as he kept her mind from all the shit she was going through. He paid for another cocktail for her and she kept smiling, even though his attitude was rather arrogant and his jokes much ruder than she preferred. Anna had no idea how much time she spent absentmindedly giggling to whatever crap he was telling, when she suddenly realized, he was standing a little too close. She was breathing his perfume in, too sharp for her liking, mixed with the spirit fumes. His eyes were demanding and his hand was already on the small of her back. Anna was trapped and there was no way of leaving this guy now without making a scene. So she lied she needed to go to the bathroom, and as soon as she was safely hidden behind the door of a single restroom, she dialed the number of the only person who, she believed, could save her from that guy and maybe even from herself.

But her call went on to the voicemail. Calum didn’t pick up. He was busy with work or whatever else he could have been busy with. And it meant Anna couldn’t have been saved. At least not tonight. She looked in the mirror, her eyes too big on her thinner than usual face, mascara dust on her cheeks. And then it stuck her. She didn’t need him to save her. She didn’t need to be saved at all. Her only agenda was not to feel, and there was pretty good chance that dude would help her with that.

She let the bangign girl inside the toilet and came up to the guy who was waiting for her and chatting to the bartender.

“So,” she went straight, “do you think we could leave this place?”

His satisfied grin was almost disgusting, but Anna prohibited herself to think about that. He dropped how he thought she would never asked, and ordered an uber pretty fast. And before Anna had a chance to understand all that she was doing, he was already all over her on the backseat of a taxi. His kisses were rushed and a little too rough, just like his hands on her thighs. But Anna let him get it his way, commiting to these new sensations, tasting them with her mouth and skin, wandering if she could get to enjoy them.

They got to his place pretty fast, and soon he was pushing his hand down her jeans. Anna didn’t let him turn the lights on, so there were only his hands and lips and occasional words in the darkness. He pushed her on the undone bed and pulled down on her jeans. She listened on their breathings and sounds of sloppy kisses and understood she could actually imagine whoever she wanted in his place. Sure as hell this guy was just using her for his pleasure, not really caring about her at all. Even if she had any doubts before, the way he shoved his dick inside her, without even asking if she was ready or checking if she was wet, said it loudly enough. She squeezed her eyes at a rather painful feeling and thanked the alcohol and darkness for at least some arousal. He started moving fast, hitting her hard with his body, his perfume suddenly making her sick. Anna forced her body to relax and faked a moan. Her sounds made him even more active, but she wasn’t opposed that at all, finally getting the feeling she was aiming for. He was fucking her into the mattress, using her body, while she was using him to imagine somebody else in his place and finally forget this somebody really existed somewhere in the world.

***

Calum was lying on his bed and watching strange shadows his bedside lamp was leaving on the ceiling. Duke lied next to him, watching his master with disapproval in his black eyes. Cal felt like his pup’s eyes were about to burn a hole in his head. So he turned to his dog.

“What?” he asked, irritated by the dog’s judgment.

But Duke only snorted and looked away.

Calum rolled his eyes. “Nice,” he huffed, “now you don’t even wanna look at me. And I thought we were friends.”

Duke growled quietly and crawled closer on the bed, pressing his side to Calum’s arm, but still not looking at him.

Calum sighed and scratched his dog’s back. “I love you too, buddy. Sorry I’m a dick today.”

Duke huffed, but didn’t change his position, making Calum think that he probably deserved it.

His phone started buzzing on the bedside table. Calum sighed again and stretched his hand to it, building up in his mind all the insults he was going to send up Ashton’s overprotective ass. But instead of black and white Ashton’s photo, he saw the same picture of Anna and Aubrie. He looked at the clock, short hand so close to showing three in the morning. Why the hell would she call him at three in the morning? Calum frowned, asking himself if he really wanted to know, when felt his dog’s eyes on him again. He looked at Duke and saw even more disapproval in his eye than before.

“Alright, alright,” he huffed, sitting up and answering the call. “Hello?”

He didn’t hear her voice. Truth to be told, he didn’t hear anything at all at first. He even thought she dialed his number by accident, having her phone in the bag or the pocket. But when things like that happened, you could usually hear something, like sounds of the streets around, or voices of people talking. And now he couldn’t hear anything. Until he heard her sniff.

“Anna?” he tried again. But again he got no answer. “Anna, what happened?”

Her sniffs grew into full crying. Calum could swear he heard the sound of the tears streaming down her cheeks in the silence surrounding them both.

He stood up abruptly, looking for his sneakers on the floor, Duke fast on his little paws and whining quietly. “Anna, can you just tell me where you are? What happened to you?”

It took her another minute to get herself to answering. By that time Calum was already leaving his place.

“Can you, please, come?” her voice was feeble to the point of being hardly audible, but it was enough for Calum. He made her repeat her address twice to memorize it, while he was running down the staircase, and thanked that sleepless city for the opportunity to catch a taxi at literally any time.

Her door was open. Calum didn’t know was it because she was waiting for him or because she was so neglectful to her own safety. But as he saw her tears-stained face he didn’t have a heart to scold her for that. Whatever was what brought her in that state, she scolded herself enough without his help.

She was sitting on her little couch, her eyes wide open and full of fear. Calum looked around and locked the door behind him. He came up to her, sat down and pulled her to his chest.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, feeling her tears start running again. He didn’t ask anymore questions, knowing better than this. Just let her cling on him and let it all out. But she didn’t cry for long. It’s like she had a limited amount of tears now and she couldn’t cry more than that. So she soon stopped, only reflex sobbing shaking her tiny frame every now and then, but kept holding on Calum.

He waited a little longer and decided to ask again, “What happened to you, Anna?”

Calum felt her shaking her head awkwardly against his chest. And then she finally answered, her voice muffled, “It’s not what happened to me. It’s what I’ve done with my own hands.”

“And what is it?” he asked, stroking her back soothingly.

Anna shook her head again, but then froze under his touch and breathed out, “I’ve just slept with a guy.”

She felt his hands stiffen for a moment, but only a moment. Whatever reaction he had, he was damn good in hiding it. Calum took a breath and asked, “So?”

She pulled away from him and sat straight, her red from crying eyes looking in his tired brown.

“I don’t even remember his name.”

“So?” he repeated with a huff. Calum did feel a sting of something too similar to jealousy, but hoped he didn’t let it show. After all, he had no right to feel anything like that.

“And I have a boyfriend, Calum!” Anna went on, hysterical notes back in her voice. “I have a boyfriend, who loves me, but I just went to a bar and slept with a random guy!”

“Hey,” Calum tried to stop her, but it was too late, tears filling up her eyes again. She started talking and couldn’t stop herself now.

“I just wanted to forget, Calum. Do I ask for too much? Just to forget, at least for half an hour. I just needed it and I went to that bar and he was there. And I didn’t even like him, but he was there and you didn’t answer my call, so I let him take me home. And-” she stopped, lost for air and words. “The fuck did I do, Calum?” she whispered, choking on her tears. “What the fuck am I doing? What should I even do? I just can’t anymore, it’s so difficult. Why no one tells you it’s so difficult?”

Anna started shaking with her whole body. Calum had set in motion before his mind fully acknowledged what was happening to her. He didn’t see it quite often even though he was a doctor, but he did know the symptoms of a panic attack well enough. He pulled from Anna for a moment and lifted his right leg on the couch. Then he took her by her sides and sat her right on his lap, put his arms around, squeezing her in the bear hug, letting his biceps almost crash her ribs and shoulders.

“Calum, I can’t breathe,” Anna managed to say.

He didn’t even try to reply. He felt her shaking stop instantly and her tears calming down and that was enough for him. Couple minutes later he opened his arms, letting her take a breath with her whole chest and looked her in the face. She looked back with a mix of surprise and confusion on her face. She was on a verge of hysteria only couple minutes before and now she felt completely calm.

“Feel better now?” Calum asked.

“Is it some kind of a doctor's trick?” she answered with a question, making him smile softly.

“Yeah, it actually is.” Calum moved away from her again, took her hands and pulled her up. “Come on.”

It took only two steps towards the bedroom for her to start arguing. “I don’t wanna sleep,” she started shaking her head, pulling on Calum’s arms to stop him. “I don’t wanna close my eyes. Each time I do, I see-” she broke, unable to finish. But she didn’t need to, he knew what she was scared to pronounce.

Still he huffed and pulled her further. “You need rest,” Calum stated. “You’re still slightly drunk and you’re tired and stressed. Your mind needs rest. Bed, now. Doctor’s order.”

But Anna kept pushing back, squeezing his hands and looking at him with a plea in her eyes.

“I don’t wanna stay alone,” she finally admitted.

Calum sighed, “Who says anything about staying alone?” he reassured her softly, pulling her closer and rubbing her arms. “Go lie down. I’ll turn the lights off and come.”

She spared him long lingering look, but did as he told and disappeared behind the bedroom door. Calum sighed heavily, stroke his neck and asked what kind of joke of the Universe brought this mess of a girl into his life. Was it his karma for not saving her brother? Or was her brother’s condition only to bring them two together?

He checked the lock on the door and switched off the lamp. He had no trouble with moving around her apartment, everything so tiny here, he needed literally three steps to cross the living room. Anna was already in bed, covers up to her chin, her eyes straight on him. He could feel them even in the shadow of the room, the only source of light was a street lamp far below her window. He took his shoes off and lay down on the covers. He rolled on his side to face her and met her demanding eyes. Anna pulled her hand out from under the covers and took his hand. They were just lying like that, face to face, holding hands and not saying anything. Soon she started blinking less, her eyelids getting heavier. She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer and let tiredness pull her down into the depths of sleep. Calum exhaled, letting his body and mind relax, and slowly drifted away too.

***

Waking up was sudden, like coming up from underwater. Calum didn’t get what was it that woke him up, a noise or a feeling. He just opened his eyes, like from blinking, and realised he wasn’t sleeping anymore.

He was alone on the bed. Anna’s careful steps were heard from behind the door. He stretched his body and rolled on the back, looking around bright, but extremely small room. A bed with a forged headboard, some ribbons hanging from it alongside with a small dreamcatcher, a little dressing table and a door to what he assumed was a built-in wardrobe. There were half a dozen little photos attached to the mirror frame. And tens of different pictures were looking at Calum from the walls. Black and white pencil sketches, aquarells of a seaside and stormy skies, big sized photos of Annabelle with her parents and friends, portraits of random people and even couple of oil paintings. They all were forming the main decor of the room, being the most noticeable part in it. Calum felt uncomfortable, like he was prying into the part of Anna’s soul without getting a proper permission. But still couldn’t stop staring at them. She was so damn talented, it took his breath away.

Sounds of the coffee maker brought him back to reality. Calum yawned, glanced at her digital clock and got up. She was in the kitchen, next to the open cupboard, trying to get a cup without producing any noise. She was wrapped up in a soft bathrobe and looked extremely cozy with a messy bun on her head.

“Good morning,” Calum said, his voice raspy from the sleep.

She jumped and turned around, pressing the cup to her chest.

“Hey,” she mumbled. “Did I wake you up?”

Calum shook his head, coming up to the kitchen island and sitting down. Anna put the cup in front of him and reached out for another one. While they were waiting for coffee, Calum looked around the apartment, everything so familiar, yet so different in the morning lights. Anna kept staring at Calum. No one said a word.

When the coffee was ready, she filled their cups. Calum nodded in appreciation, but still didn’t say anything. The uncomfortable feeling he got while looking at her pictures stayed with him even after he left her bedroom. He felt guilty not only for this, but also for yesterday. Was he to blame for what she did? If he had answered his phone when she called for the first time, would it change everything?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out all of the sudden.

“I told you, you didn’t wake me,” Calum shook his head again, though not daring to look at her.

“No, for yesterday. I’m sorry I called you and for the scene you had to see.”

Calum inhaled sharply. “You don’t have to. I understand,” he said. “I truly do, even sleeping with a random guy part.”

Anna couldn’t fight the shivers. His voice was so calm, almost cold.

“Do you despise me now?” she asked in whisper, terrified of what she might hear.

“Would I stay if I despised you?”

“That’s not the answer.”

And then he looked up at her. She was ready to many things, besides not being able to see anything at all in his eyes.

“It is,” said Calum firmly, “just not the one you were hoping for.”

His eyes were heavy on her face. Anna had no idea what was about to happen next. And when she understood she wouldn’t ever find out, because his phone started vibrating and distracted him from her, she felt nothing but relief.

“Hey, Ash,” Calum answered his phone, not looking at Anna anymore, and lifted his cup to take a sip of coffee.

Anna’s blood froze in her veins when she saw his hands, all knuckles were in bruises and cuts and blood stains. She looked back at his face, trying to imagine what could possibly have happened to him.

Calum wasn’t looking at her and missed the change in her mood, his full attention on the person he was listening to. He spent another minute just listening, when finally put the cup down and answered, slight irritation in his voice, “Listen, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the care, but you don’t have to check up on me, bro. I’m alright.”

He had to listen for something his friend answered before going with “Yeah, hands are fine too, Ash.”

He finally looked at Anna, being all ears and shamelessly trying to make out what his friend was saying on the other side of the line.

“Listen, I’ll call you later and we’ll discuss it, alright? Have to go now.”

Calum hang up abruptly and met Anna’s half-curious, half-distressed eyes.

“Why does your friend checks up on you?” her question was straightforward to the point of being rude, but she couldn’t care less.

“Because he’s worried.”

“And why is he worried?” Anna pushed further.

“Because I lost a patient yesterday,” Calum answered simply.

“I’m sorry,” Anna mumbled, hiding her eyes in her coffee cup, wondering if his injured knuckles were marks of his emotions. But she could hardly imagine it. Calum she knew would never do anything like that, he was just incapable of such rage. She thought if that was one of the reasons she felt such attraction to him. She was absolutely positive whatever was happening inside his head, he would never overstep the line.

Calum winced, “It’s fine.”

And those two short words burnt her harder than anything before. It was someone’s baby, but for him it was fine?

“How can it possibly be fine?” she asked before she could stop herself. She had never got that angry so fast, but now she just couldn’t control herself.

What she hadn’t taken in consideration was that he was also angry. His emotions were still boiling since last night, and her scolding him for his hard-hearted attitude didn’t add to his pleasure.

“I am a surgeon, Anna,” he dropped, “and it’s a part of my work. Sometimes we lose patients. I knew the numbers when I came to surgery.”

“So that’s what they are to you?” she threw back at him. “Numbers? And my brother was also just a number?”

Anna knew she was overstepping. But she hated him that moment almost as much as she hated herself.

Calum didn’t answer anything. He just looked at her, hands holding on the back of his head. Anna couldn’t quite understand what was so different in his look right now, but could feel the change with her skin. He exhaled, stood up, picked up his jacket and, just as silently, left her flat. And Anna stayed to listen to the regret ringing in the air around her.

***

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