#CANCER OF THE TONGUE AND MOUTH' rings in my ears every time i start

[gibsonwitch]

beloved mutuals what are some replacement stims for chewing my cheeks and tongue to bloody shreds

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

Day 14: The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia 

Todays story was requested by @itspdameronthings​. Thank you so much for the request and I really hope you like it. This is the longest of all the stories I have written for the November Writing Challenge.

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 13: Water Flowed- Llewyn Davis 

Day 1 

“Do you have to go?” Your voice is quiet as you watch him pack his bags from your seat on the bed. 

“Querida, you know I don’t want to but they are asking me back as a favor AND I’m being compensated. I worked in Columbia for three years, it's where my mother was born. I feel like I need to do this,” he kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his own. “It’s only four months and I promise I will call and text you every single day. It’s killing me to leave you but...I feel I have to do this.” 

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was a former member of Delta Force in the US Military before leaving to go work for the DEA in Columbia. Three years ago, he left Columbia to return home but not without one final mission. He got together a few of his old buddies from the force and robbed a drug lord before killing him and fleeing the country. But something went wrong. Well… a lot of shit went wrong, resulting in the death of his old captain, Tom, and forcing them to leave millions of dollars off the side of a cliff buried in the snow. 

Santiago had accepted a temporary assignment with the DEA to return back to Columbia and train some new recruits. You were not one bit okay with this plan but the one thing you loved and also kind of hated about your husband was how headstrong he could be. Unfortunately, you are just as stubborn as him. The last few weeks leading up to his departure had been fraught with arguments. You didn’t want him to go. Even though it had been years since that last mission, you didn’t know what the situation down there was. Were they still hunting for the men who had robbed and gunned down Lorea? Was he walking into a trap? No money was worth losing the man you loved, and he didn’t seem to understand that. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” The words are bitter on your tongue and Santiago winces, before moving to stand. “We don’t need that money, and you have no idea what you walking into baby…” 

“Y/N, we have talked about this enough. I am going!” He slams the top of his suitcase closed before pulling the zipper harshly and walking towards the door. He turns sharply at the door pointing at you, “Why do you keep arguing with me about this? I have told you a million reasons why I need to do this! Instead of supporting me you're just fighting with me!” 

“I do support yo-” 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” he swings his backpack on his back, puts on his hat and walks out the door. You’re on your feet in a hurry. “Goddamnit, Santiago! Will you just fucking listen to me for two minutes?”  You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. He’s fuming and you can tell the volcano is seconds away from blowing. “I DO support you! I understand WHY you feel the need to do this but I LOVE YOU and I don’t want to LOSE YOU!” 

You're out of breath from shouting, and you see the anger slowly fade from his face as he comes to stand closer to you, “Querida...baby you're not going to lose me. I love you….so … damn … much. I never really felt alive until I met you, and no one,” he puts a finger under your chin and raises your eyes to his own, “no one is going to take me away from you.” 

“You can’t promise that…” Your words come out broken and a choked sob escapes you. “You don’t know what’s going to happen. Santi I can’t lose you. I won’t survive without you…” 

“Shhh.” He pulls you close and you collapse in a sobbing heap into his chest, your tears soaking the front of his t-shirt, his hands are strong as he holds you close. “I know nothing is one hundred percent but I love you and I am going to come home back to you. Nothing could ever keep me away.” He pulls you away from his chest, wiping your eyes before kissing you gently.

“I love you too Santi, so much.” You sigh into the kiss and hold him tight before he pulls away, walking towards the door, grabbing his duffle bag from the floor and walking out, taking your heart with him. 

Day 31 

Santiago kept good on his promise and called and texted every single day, each time letting you know he was safe and how much he loved you. He was working hard down there, and he loved the adventure, even if he missed you like crazy. You missed him too and the combination of being without your husband, taking care of the whole house, your shared basset hound, and work was draining. It was only a matter of time before you started feeling under the weather. You had been feeling fatigued, sore throat, cough, and after two days of vomiting throughout the day you had to admit it, you were sick. 

On your nightly call with Santi the worry in his voice warmed your heart. “Baby, you need to go to the doctor and get checked. Remember when you got bronchitis last year? It was pretty bad.” 

You hack into the receiver “Yeah, maybe you're right. I just feel like shit Nauseous all day long. Jonathon actually sent me home today. Said he was worried about me ‘infecting’ the office.” 

Santi mutters under his breath but you hear him and snort. “Yeah I agree he is a dick, but I appreciate being sent home. I’ll go to the urgent care tomorrow.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yes, I promise. I want to feel better...I just hate going to the doctor.” You recall the many times Santi had to drag you kicking and screaming (sometimes literally) to the doctor. 

“Why don’t you ask one of the guys to go with you?” 

“Maybe...Frankie mentioned he was off tomorrow when I called him yesterday....” 

“See. It was meant to be. Why don’t you text him after you hang up with me and he will make sure you go? Then I can rest easy tonight knowing you’re ok. I wish it were me though. I would take such good care of you baby.” 

“Oh yeah?” What would you do if you were here?” You snuggle down into the comforter with your box of tissues, hot tea, the humidifier and his deep soothing voice lulling you to sleep. 

It doesn’t take long before your soft snores fill the phone and Santi smiles to himself. Listening to the sounds of his love finally feeling at rest. When you wake up three hours later to throw up the light from your phone signifies a message. 

I called Frankie, he’s going to come by at 10 o’clock to take you for an appointment. I booked it online through the app. Get some rest and drink lots of fluids. I love you. - Hubby 

You smile before brushing your teeth and crawling back into the warmth of your bed and falling back to sleep, dreaming of your husband. 

Day 32 

The next morning Frankie rings the doorbell at exactly 9:45.Like all the other Delta Force guys (except Benny), they are meticulously early. You greet him with a cup of coffee with his own special airplane shaped mug, complete with his name engraved on the side. You knew that when you married Santiago, Frankie came as part of the package. 

“Hi Garcia, how ya feeling?” He wraps one arm around your shoulder and you lean into the embrace, placing your head on his arm. 

“To be completely honest Cat? I feel like shit.” 

Frankie lets out a small laugh before rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Well then let’s get you to the doctor. You got your insurance card?” 

“Yeah it’s in my bag.” You grab your brown knit bag, swinging it over your shoulder. 

“Then let’s get going.” He guides you out to his truck, helping you into the seat before running around the front to the driver's seat. 

About twenty minutes later you're pulling into the parking lot of your doctor. Frankie walks you inside helping you get signed in. It's another thirty minutes before you're put back into a room, sitting on crinkled tissue paper, Frankie reading back issues of People. The door opens and you sit up a little straighter. 

“Mrs. Garcia?” You nod. “I’m Dr. Jacobs. What can I help you with today?” 

You proceed to tell her what’s been going on and she goes through the motions, asking you all about your symptoms, checking your ears, nose, throat, and chest. When she's done she types everything into her tablet, “one more question, when was your last menstrual cycle?” 

You open your mouth to answer before closing it slowly. “When was my last...Oh. Uhm,” you laugh nervously at a loss for words, “about a month ago it should be starting any day now…” 

“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” she asks, looking between you and Frankie. 

“Oh, he’s not my husband!” 

“I’m her husband's best friend. He’s out of the country.” 

“Well it sounds like you may have the flu but I would like to run some labs as well if that’s alright with you, and maybe a pregnancy test just to be sure?” 

You laugh. “Sure doc whatever you need, but I am not pregnant.” 

Day 35 

You swing your car haphazardly into the driveway narrowly missing a planter box and running over Mia’s pink bike. The front door slams open. Frankie is running down the driveway, yanking the car door open and pulling you into his arms. Your sobs are staining your cheeks and you're a blubbering mess. 

“Garcia! What the hell! Are you ok!?” Frankie checks you over. You shake your head frantically. 

“NO! No I am not ok!” you shout! “The test results came back!” 

“Oh god, is it bad!? Cancer? Diabetes? Fuck! Did Pope give you some kind of STD because I swear I will kick his ass for you!” 

“NO! God...no...I'm...Pregnant!” You break down in sobs and hold onto Frankie who starts to laugh. “Stop laughing! This is serious! Frankie!!” 

He chuckles squeezing you tighter, “Garcia this is wonderful! You're gonna be a mom and Santiago is going to be a daddy! Mia will have someone to play with. Fuck, I’m so happy for you guys.” You pull away to see a huge smile on his face. 

Some of his excitement rubs off on you and you rub your nose on the sleeve of your shirt before you smile, “I’m gonna be a mommy…oh shit Frankie what do I tell Santi?

“We will worry about that later. But right now let’s get you home and back to bed. You still have that cough and you need your rest.” 

Day 36 

“Hey baby. How is my favorite man?” 

“Oh Querida I miss you so much. I think I forgot how much I love being out in the field. The rush, the thrill. It’s addicting.” 

Your heart drops and for a minute you say nothing. How the hell could you tell him about the baby? He would want to come straight home and he’s loving the work.

“Everything is great here. Yeah, I got the test results yesterday from the lab and everything is normal. I just have the flu and since I’ve been off the last few days I’ve rested and drank lots of fluids and I am feeling much better.” 

“Oh good, I was so worried about you.” He sighs. “I got a new app on my phone that counts down to the second till I get to be back with you.. I love you so much Querida.” 

You bite your lip to keep from crying before letting out a shaky breath, “I love you too baby, and I can’t wait to see you soon.” 

The conversation shifts and when you hang up with your husband you shoot a quick text off to Frankie. 

Don’t mention ANYTHING about the pregnancy to Santiago. I’ll tell him when he gets home. 

What? Why? 

He loves being there and if we're going to have a baby then he's not going to be able to do this again. If I tell him you know he will just come home early. 

Ok...I still think you should tell him. You're going to need support though...he’s still going to be gone for three more months. 

Your right...Frankie...will you be my person? 

... of course. Get some sleep Garcia. 

Day 100 

Four months doesn’t seem like a long time. But when you're pregnant and missing your husband it seems like a lifetime. It had been one hundred days since Santi had left for South America and only twenty-two more days till he came home. When you did the math in your head you had become pregnant two weeks before Santi had left. Meaning you were well on your way to being a very noticeable pregnant woman. 

You had been shopping a couple times with Benny to Motherhood Maternity store to get some bigger clothes because yours refused to fit. Also a very interesting trip to Babies-R-Us where after much convincing he did not purchase the entire store for his future niece/nephew. Will had been attending your doctor and lab appointments with you. And sweet Frankie had been helping you around the house, getting groceries when you were too tired, keeping up the yard, and taking you and your dogs for walks to keep you moving. Your husband’s brothers had become your own, and you loved them for it. Only 22 more days. 

Day 120 

You're sitting at the kitchen table doing a puzzle with Will when Frankie comes in carrying takeout and a squirming Mia. He puts her down and she rushes toward you. 

“TIA GARCIA!” she screams, launching herself into your arms. 

“MIA!” you shout, squeezing her tightly before tickling her sides. She giggles before shimmying out of your lap and running to the kitchen. Coming back a moment later carefully balancing (at least as careful as a three year old can) a plate filled with watermelon to you. 

“Papa says this is for the baby,” she tells you in what could be called an attempted whisper but more like a shout. 

“Why are you whispering Mia?” 

“Papa says that I have guts to be quiet because the baby is sleeping.” She leans forward and hugs your slightly protruding belly before climbing into the kitchen chair across from you. 

You give Frankie an amused look and he smiles with a shrug before plating out the food. Pizza for them and watermelon for you. It’s all you seem to want anymore. “Oh come to mama.” You spear a piece before placing it in your mouth, moaning as the cold sweet juice goes down your throat. 

“So I’m taking you to the airport on Friday to pick up Santiago. Any ideas on how you're going to tell him?” Frankie asks, taking a large bite of pizza. 

“Well I think he’s going to know.” You gesture to your stomach, spearing another piece of melon. 

“I’ve been looking up ideas on how to tell people you're pregnant, and you could give him a jar of pasta sauce,” Will says and you all look at him like he’s nuts, “No, hear me out it’s Prego pasta sauce...get it, Prego?” 

You groan before taking another bite, “I think he’s going to notice I’m pregnant before I can even give him a jar of pasta sauce Will.” 

“Not if he doesn’t see your stomach first…” Frankie says, “what if you made a sign?” 

“A sign?” 

“Yeah like when we used to come home from a tour and the families would have signs. You could make a sign!” 

You think about it for a minute before you fall in love with the idea. You go to the office and come back with a couple poster boards you kept for work presentations. You place one in front of Mia who squeals and grabs one of the markers you provide. You get to work outlining the words and filling them in with his favorite colors blue and red. When completed, you lift it up and show it to the others.

“That’s perfect!” Frankie beams. 

“Bet you 50 bucks he cries,” Will says. 

“Deal,” they slap hands and you glare, before smiling at the two. Only two more days. 

Day 122 - Santiago Comes Home 

You feel sick, what if he doesn’t want to have a baby? Will he be mad I kept this from him? Shit, maybe this was a terrible idea. What the hell was I thinking? 

“Garcia, you need to calm down, you're making me stressed.” 

“What if he doesn’t want this? What if he is disappointed? What if-” Frankie stands up and puts his hands on your shoulders. 

“Garcia listened to me. Santiago loves you more than anything in this entire world and he is going to love this baby just as much maybe even more. He may be surprised yeah but trust me. Once he wraps his brain around it, he’s going to be ecstatic.” He pulls you in for a hug and you take a deep breath, calming your nerves. 

The constant flow of travelers does nothing to lessen your anxiety. You take a deep breath and almost choke on the smell of espresso from the nearby Starbucks. Frankie gives you one last squeeze before handing you the sign and stepping back as people flood out of the gate. 

You rise to your tiptoes in search for a familiar head of salt and pepper curls. When in a break of the crowd you see him, running in a full sprint towards you. His face split into a megawatt smile. As he gets close enough to touch, you hold up the sign. He slows down slightly as he reads and you watch the smile fade only slightly before it’s replaced by shock. 

Welcome home daddy 

He reaches forward, holding tight to the poster board and slowly lowering it, eyes transfixed at your swollen belly. Silence. His hands shake as they put the sign on the floor, his eyes never leaving you. Your heart races and you feel the urge to vomit return again before he drops to his knees. 

You wince, “Baby, your knees…” reaching down to pull him up, but he makes no move to stand, his hands coming to your stomach. Placing his lips gently over your shirt. His forehead rests against you and tears drench your shirt. The baby chooses that moment to make their presence known kicking softly against his cheek. You run your hands through his curls and he looks up at you with a watery smile and a small laugh. 

“Querida, you’re pregnant. We’re...we’re having a baby…” he sniffles and you can’t help the tears in your own eyes. “Why...why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home…”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t. You’ve been so happy these past few months and I knew you needed to do this. Yes, I was scared as hell about losing you but...I understood.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers before shakily getting to his feet and clutching you tight, his hands frame your face and he pulls you close getting lost in the kiss, “I love you...so fucking much,” he whispers putting his forehead against your own. “I love you too. I’m so glad your home… I mean the guys have been great but I’m excited to go shopping for baby stuff with you, attend my doctor appointments together, and have you bring me platefuls of watermelon.” 

He laughs pulling back, “Watermelon? Is that what you’ve been craving?” 

“Oh god yes, even talking about it makes my mouth water.” 

“If that is what you want Querida, then you can have as much as you desire,” he kisses you again. 

A cough sounds from behind and you turn to see Frankie smiling at you.  Santi reaches out to give him a slap on the back, the two conversing in Spanish. You hold your hand out and Santi latches on, never letting go as you make your way through the terminal and out to the truck. 

The world passes by in a kaleidoscope of color as Frankie drives you both home. Arriving, you thank him before leading Santi by the hand and into the house. When the door is latched behind you, he presses you into the door gently. Every touch, every caress, left you breathless. His lips warm and wet against your own. When you take a breath his tongue snakes inside and he drags you from the door, striping each other, leaving a trail of clothes to the bedroom. 

After you’ve been thoroughly fucked and your wrapped up in Santiago’s strong arms, legs intertwined together, and he’s rubbing your belly do you finally relax. Sighing into his chest, and kissing it lightly. “Your really happy about the baby?” you whisper, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. 

His grip around you tightens, “I promise you, I am very happy about the baby. You made me a daddy Querida. I love you...so much.” 

You sigh, “I love you too.” 

3 months later 

Eight months of pregnancy has flown by. After Santi got home from Columbia he took over doing everything. Attending your appointments together, buying and building things for the nursery, and bringing you platefuls of watermelon at all times of the day and night. Santiago takes the roll of daddy very seriously. All of those year in the military have come into play the last few months as he has transformed your house into a fortress. God help anyone that tries to hurt you or your unborn daughter. 

It started small with a few extra cameras on the perimeter, then installing a new indoor security system. A new fence was put up around the pool two months ago, and most recently the baby monitors set up throughout the house. He was beginning to drive you a little insane and you honestly just wanted him to lay off a bit. The perfect opportunity arose one fateful morning during breakfast. 

“So I’ve been thinking Querida, how do you feel about putting carpet on the floor of the nursery?” 

Part 2: Carpet (If you haven’t read it, check it out!)

Day 15: Just Walk Away- Ezra (Prospect) 

[whisperlullaby]

Heaven’s Not Too Far

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Character death, mentions of cancer, angst, language, guys this is just really sad.

Words: 1467

A/N: This is literally not a happy piece. It was just inside my head and I wanted it out. It’s based on this song which is a very sad song. Please do not read this fic is any of these topics upset you. 

After a solid month in the field running a covert mission the quinjet landing at the compound was like music to your ears. Rather, it would be had you not had this incessant ringing in your ears since last week. The headache that came with it was a low throbbing just behind your eyes. 

You were met with your favorite pair of stormy blue eyes once you stepped out of the aircraft and you raced into his arms.

"Hey doll I've missed you." Bucky sighs as he squeezes you in a tight hug pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I've missed you too Buck. Don't know why they haven't had us on missions together lately." 

"The last mission you two went on together ended with 3 days of no contact because you decided to hold up in the safe house having animal sex." Sam quips causing you to burst out laughing.

"We got the intel didn't we? I thought we could use a bit of a vacation without any interruptions." You stick your tongue out at Sam as he rolls his eyes 

"Well until you both learn to keep it in your pants. No missions together." Sam saunters away leaving you and Bucky alone in the hanger.

"How have your headaches been, doll? Any better?" Bucky questions his eyes filled with concern.

"They're really persistent. Can't seem to shake this ringing either. I'm sure it's nothing that a hot shower and a good night's sleep on an actual mattress won't cure." You sigh.

Bucky places his hands on your cheeks and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. 

"I would feel better if you just saw Dr. Cho and got it looked at."

"Okay, mom." You tease. "But can I shower first? I smell like hot garbage."

Bucky laughs. "Only if I can join you."

"I would expect nothing less, Sarge." You wink and grab Bucky's hand to pull him to your room.

//////

The next day you have your appointment with Dr. Cho. She runs some scans and takes blood to do a full work up. You're waiting in the cold exam room on the crinkling paper of the check up table for Dr. Cho to return, counting the ceiling tiles. You hear a slight knock at the door before it's pushed open.

"So doc what's the prognosis." You joke before you notice the solemn expression on the doctors face.

"Y/N. I'm afraid I don't have the news you were hoping for.” Dr. Cho takes a deep breath before she continues. “Your CT scan shows a large glioblastoma, it's inoperable. I am so sorry."

The soft whir of the air conditioning and crunching of the paper underneath you is drowned out by the blood pulsing through your ears. Your mouth is sticky and dry as you try to speak.

"How long?" You squeak out, tears threatening to fall.

"About six months. Most glioblastoma patients don't survive past a year." Dr. Cho's voice wavered.

"Thank you. Um, can I go?" You ask, shuddering out a breath.

"Yes, but we will need you to book a follow up appointment so we can go over treatment options." Dr. Cho says empathetically.

“That won’t be necessary, Dr. Cho.”

You stand on shaky legs and leave the office. Once you are back in your room you sink down to the floor as silent tears stain your cheeks. You don't know how long you end up sitting there before you hear a knock at the door.

"Doll? Are you there?” Bucky’s voice came through the door concerned. “I haven't seen you since this morning before your appointment, can I come in?"

You slowly rise from the floor and click open the door handle to show a worried Bucky. Your eyes hollowly gaze over him before you fall forward into him. He catches you and cradles you into his chest walking through your room to settle you on the couch.

"You're scaring me. What happened?" Bucky's voice came out harsher than he intended. 

You gulped dryly. "Dr. Cho said, I'm, she said that I, um, I have a glioblastoma and that there's only 6 months at most." 

You choke back a sob and look over Bucky. His eyes wet with tears.

"What treatment options are there? What about surgery? There has to be something, some cutting edge treatment we can do, Stark has to have something, for God's sake." Bucky is frantically screaming, raking his hands through his hair.

"Inoperable. And….. I don't want the treatment. I don't want my last days to be a shell of a person." You grab Bucky's hands and hold them to your face. "I want to spend every day waking up with you. Being alive with you." 

"No. You can't just sit here and resign yourself to death. We're going to figure it out. I am not losing you. Not when it feels like I just found you." Bucky's tears were falling freely as you stroke his knuckles.

"Oh Bucky, there isn't anything we can do. Please. Just, be with me. Love me. Stay with me." You pull his palm to your lips and press a kiss before he pulls you in, deepening the kiss with desperation.

"You are my world. I'm going to be lost without you." A sob escapes his throat.

"My love there will be no place you could go that I wouldn't be with you."

Bucky pulls you onto his lap and holds you close for the rest of the night.

/////

2 months later

"Doll let me get that, why don't you go sit down." Bucky grabs the bowl of popcorn out of your hands and ushers you over to the couch.

"Thanks Buck." You place a quick kiss on his cheek before you stumble towards the couch. "I'm feeling a bit woozy today.”

You plop down on the couch as Bucky settles next to you. You easily take your spot tucked into his side listening to his heartbeat as he draws circles on your arm. The movie Bucky picked drones on as you feel your eyelids grow heavy. 

“Hey Buck?” You start unable to keep your eyes open. “When I die I’m going to visit you as a dragonfly, so just know wherever you are, anytime you see one it’s me saying hello.”

Bucky stops drawing circles on your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Are you feeling okay doll? I can go get Dr. Cho.”

“No Buck, just really tired. Please stay with me? Hey do you remember the first time you kissed me?” You gave a weak smile.

Bucky let out a shaky sigh “Yeah, you wouldn’t stop laughing at one of those dogs who kept sliding on the ice. I swear that laugh is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.”

You chuckled. “Yeah you just grabbed my face mid laugh and kissed me.”

“I’d kiss you forever if I could.” Bucky laughs humorlessly.

Your breathing starts to sound shallow and short. “Heaven’s not too far away Buck. You’ll visit me one day and we can kiss as much as you want.”

You feel hot tears fall on your face as Bucky presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then the tip of your nose, and finally a lingering kiss to your lips.

“I am going to be so lost without you. You have made my life so full, I don’t know who I would be without you.” Bucky whispers.

“You would be the same man I fell in love with, Buck. You are strong. We’ll meet again. I’m just gonna sleep for a bit. I'm so tired.”

Bucky held you tight as your breathing waned. When he couldn’t feel your lungs fill with air or hear your heartbeat, he called for FRIDAY to alert the medical team all the while rocking you and whispering his love for you in your ears.

////

A few days later

Bucky planned your funeral. He made sure all of your favorite flowers were lining the casket hoping you were looking down on him smiling because he remembered. 

“I miss her Steve.” Bucky remarks as Steve approaches him.

“I know Buck. She was a wonderful person, loved you for who you are and I am grateful to her for it.” Steve states somberly.

Bucky chuckles humorlessly. “I get to live more than one lifetime. It’s not fair that hers got cut short. I would give anything to have her back.”

Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder letting his hand linger. Bucky looks back at Steve with sorrow in his eyes. Then, he notices something land on Steve’s shoulder, a bright blue dragonfly and he smiles.

“I know she’s here though Stevie. Watching me. I’m going to be the man she wants me to be, then when it’s time, I’ll see her again.”

[baronessblixen]

Fic prompt: what if it wasn’t skinner in the hospital when Scully said she was pregnant but mulder? What if skinner called him about Scully fainting and him not getting on that plane to Oregon? How would he react ? And the. Bringing her home? How would that go down? It would be so awesome if you could write that! I love all your fics you are a gift to my fic world on here ❤️

Thank you so much for your kind words. I didn’t exactly stick to the prompt but mostly. Fluff with a hint of angst?, set in “Requiem”. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 11

He crashes through the door to her hospital room like a drunken man returning home. He stops there, panting and staring at her.

“Scully,” he says, her name spilling from his mouth like a question. “Are you okay?” He finds his voice along with his feet and walks over to her, taking her hand into his. Warm, he thinks. That must be a good sign.

“Why are you here?” she asks and it’s only now that he sees tears shimmering in her eyes. He wishes he’d never left. “I thought you and Skinner were already on your way to Oregon.”

“We were,” he says, stroking her hand. “Our flight was delayed. The Gunmen called Skinner as soon as you fainted. We were just about to board when he got the call.”

“You let him go alone?”

“No. I- um, I might have caused a slight ruckus at the airport and, um, we were asked to leave. He drove me here.”

“What kind of ruckus, Mulder?” Scully asks, amusement in her voice.

“That doesn’t matter now. You fainted. Did the doctor- what are they saying? Did they check you out? What is it, Scully? Is it-“ his voice cracks. On his way over here, the only thought that permeated his brain was that Scully was sick. Again. The cancer had returned. There was no other explanation. From her having the chills in Oregon, to staying in his arms all night, to fainting once, and now twice, the only possible truth is staring him in the face.

“They did,” Scully says, sounding calm. She puts her hand on his as if he were the one who’s sick, who needed to be comforted. “They ran some tests on me and there will be more but… I don’t know how to say this to you.” He watches her, tears burning in his eyes. She laughs, hiccups, all at once. Then her eyes settle on his. He braces himself for the impact. She’s fought it once, she can do it again. He will be there every step of the way, fighting with her.

“You can tell me.” The truth in a whisper.

“I’m having a hard time explaining it. Or believing it but, um…” she pauses and takes a deep breath. He stops breathing. His ears are ringing. He wishes he could close his eyes but he doesn’t even dare to blink.

“I’m, oh my God, Mulder, I’m pregnant.”

It takes him a moment. Maybe two. Probably even three. Then he realizes what she’s said. Pregnant. She is not dying, not at all.

“You’re-“

“I know we haven’t exactly talked about it again after the IVF but I-“

“I’ve never been so happy in my entire life, Scully.” He takes her into his arms, holds her tightly, albeit awkwardly on the small hospital bed. “You’re having a baby. It worked. We did it. You’re pregnant.” He starts peppering kisses on her cheeks, her throat, her neck. She giggles and it’s the most joyful sound in the world.

“You’re okay, right? And the baby? You’re both okay?” He puts his hand on her flat stomach.

“We’re okay. Are you… okay?”

“Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We never talked about what would happen if the IVF worked and then we started sleeping together and now…”

“And now we’ve got a little miracle growing inside you.” He beams at her.

“You’re happy.” It’s not a question.

“Scully, when I agreed to the IVF, I knew what I was saying yes to. I was all in from the get-go. I love you. I love you, and I love little Junior here. I’ve never been so happy to have missed a flight.” He leans closer and gently kisses her. He tastes tears and he can’t tell if they’re hers or his. For a moment he considers proposing to her. The question is sweet on his tongue, but he swallows it. There’s time.

“I love you, too, Mulder. I should have told you before you left, but I was-“

“Scully, you’ve been showing me every day that you love me. Not that I mean hearing it every now and then,” he finishes with a grin. “When can you leave? I’m taking you home.”

She chuckles. “In a couple of hours. I was going to call my mom but now that you’re here...”

“We have to tell your mom,” Mulder says slowly. “And Skinner.” 

“Are you ready for that?” she asks. He stares at her, at the full, rosy cheeks and the healthy glow about her he didn’t notice when he barged in. Right now, he is ready for just about everything.

“I’m ready when you are.” 

They’re doing this together. 

[utterlyinevitable]

Carnival

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.5k Warning: fluff and a few curse words (and PINING!)   Summary: There’s a carnival down by the bay and Becca ditches her friends to spend her special day with Ethan. This takes place during OHSY. 

A/N: As always thanks to @aylamwrites​ for pre-reading. Also sorry this has taken so long, anon! Hope you’re happy with it 😬

________________________________________

It was a warm summer day and the gang of residents finally had a Sunday off together in what felt like months. Elijah, Jackie, Sienna, Becca, Bryce and Kyra were all sprawled around the living room of the former four’s apartment, their skin itching with heat.

“I’m going to die if we don’t get the A.C. fixed,“ Becca groaned from the wooden floor.

“I called Farley,” Sienna noted from the corner of the couch. “He said someone’s coming Monday morning.“

Bryce whined, “But it’s 90 degrees today!” He was parallel to Becca, cuddling his discarded shirt as a pillow.  

“Don’t you have your own place?“ Jackie retorted. 

Bryce reached over to pat Becca’s stomach and responded, “I’d choose sweating my balls off with my best pal over me-time any day.“

Jackie squinted her eyes, still not too sure of the dynamic between The B’s. 

Elijah was scrolling through Pictagram when he piped in, “Guys, did you know there’s a carnival in Charlestown?”  

The friends responded with mixed grumbles of “no”, “really?”, and one “aren’t we too old for rides?”. 

“Says there’s a beer garden, and it’s by the water,” he added in hopes of coaxing his friends into a little adventure. 

It was a unanimous decision for the residents to leave the uncomfortable heat of the apartment and head to the park. The carnival was down by the bay and in support of the Boston Historical Society. The group circled the grounds twice, taking time to play one of those water racing games and sample all that the best food trucks Boston have to offer. 

The tap stall was by far their favorite. The gray truck was home to six different beers and even had a game bolted to the passenger side. If you managed to get all 3 rings on the vertically hanging and impossibly tiny peg, you got a free pint and a commemorative mug. Bryce managed to win free pints for himself, Becca and Kyra - although Kyra used the cancer card when the last ring spun along the peg tantalizingly slowly before falling off the side. Bryce shot her a disapproving look as Kyra accepted the free drink. The three winners stood by while Jackie fought with the worker about how this game was completely rigged, so desperately wanting a win and free beer. 

Filling up her second mug as she waited, Becca snapped a commemorative photo of her day drunk state with Bryce’s megawatt smile and wink photobombing in the background. Cheekily, she texted it to Ethan. They were friends after all. The two hadn’t crossed any intimate lines since he returned from the Amazon, though they could be caught holding hands time and time again. 

Before she could respond back she was being dragged away. 

“Come on, Becks!” 

Bryce led them to the photobooth where they all took a string of silly pictures. It was fun to immortalize this day, but Bryce had an ulterior motive. 

“Happy Birthday, Becks,” he whispered in her ear as the six of them posed with various props. 

She looked over at the bright eyed and absolutely perfect man next to her, “How did you -?” 

Becca didn’t like birthdays and she certainly didn’t tell people when hers was. The only people who knew the significance of today were her mother, aunt, and HR representative at Edenbrook.  

All he offered was a wiggle of his manicured brows and “I have my ways of persuasion.” 

“Hospital database?” she matched.   

Bryce chuckled and slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulders, “I’ll never tell.”  

As the sweltering afternoon set in, the group settled into the grass of the secluded beer garden and enjoyed the band playing some classic rock cover songs. She was leaning into Bryce when Becca noticed a familiar gray sweater passing by. 

Her eyes furrowed thinking she was hallucinating. Who in their right mind wears a cardigan in this heat!? After blinking a few times she was certain he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.  

“Be right back,” she hopped up so quickly she nudged Bryce in the ribs. “Sorry,” she mouthed as she ran after the tall and notably refined figure she’s come to admire.  

“Hey!” she called from six feet away, “Dr. Grumpy!” 

Ethan turned towards the recognizable sing-song voice and let her catch up to him. 

Becca had the biggest smile plastered onto her sun kissed cheeks when she said, “You came.” 

“It’d be a shame not to support such a worthwhile cause,” he shrugged as he crossed his arms, trying hard not to let her smile infect him. “Also there’s a gourmet mac and cheese truck I’ve heard is a must-try.”  

In her current tipsy state she didn’t catch most of his words but knew she texted him about Mac Attack’s presence as a follow up to their conversation about comfort food from last week. 

With a deviously elated smile, Becca slung her arm through his and tugged, “Lets go.” 

Ethan was stunned by her forwardness in such a public place, however, for some reason he didn’t care. 

“Where to?” he asked with a faint smirk as he shuffled along with her.  

“I’ve been thinking about fried Oreo’s all day,” Becca all but moaned, licking her lips.  

He quipped, “I’d like some sustenance to combat the imminent heart attack.”  

“Mac Attack it is!” she said in complete elation before skipping along, dragging Ethan alongside her. 

They stood fourth in line at the popular bright yellow and red food truck. The clear blue sky started to turn shades of wandering pink and purple as the sun began to set. Becca was staring up at the sky as Ethan was studying the limited menu with distaste.    

“That looks awful,” Ethan groaned, pointing at the bucket of everything-on-top gooey mac-and-cheese one of the patrons was walking away with. 

“Well if you didn’t want to eat greasy comfort food, why’d you come?”  

Ethan dismissed her comment, sheepishly caving, “Fine, let’s share.” The beam radiating off her freckled cheeks was all the reassurance he needed. “You like truffles?” 

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’. “I like crispy onions and bacon.” 

Their eyes met and Ethan let the slightest of smiles find home on his lips. 

Ethan paid for the meal and the two carried the carton over to an empty wooden picnic bench. He held the cheesy heaven in his large palm stably for them to pick at with their two-pronged forks.  

“I concede,” Ethan began after the second forkful, “This is rather tasty.”  

“Told you!” Becca lit up. “And you should wash it down with…” she patted her body and looked around their seating area for her mug. “Crap, I left it with Bryce.” Her doe brown eyes went wide as realization washed over her. “Shit, how long have I been gone for?” she said more to herself.  

Becca stood up, grabbing her phone from her jean short pocket and texted the group chat a single emoji. 

“All good.” She put the phone back in its place and bent down to shove the last big forkful of gooey goodness into her mouth. “Whatcha wanna do now?” Ethan gazed at her as she not-so-eloquently spoke with a mouthful. “Riiiides?”  

“I don’t do rides.” 

“Heh,” she tried and wonderfully failed to hide her smirk at the naughty remark she could have made. One and a half more beers and she would have made it. 

He raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“Your options are: ferris wheel, sizzler, or photobooth and beer garden,” she listed off a few things she wouldn’t mind doing. “Fair warning, my friends are camped out in the beer garden.” 

He sighed, “Ferris wheel.”  

“So romantic!” she winked. 

“I regret this already.” 

The two chucked the rubbish in the nearest garbage pail and made their way to the side of the park with the rides. They walked side by side, their hands brushing against the other’s every now and again. In the bubble of waning alcohol and heat of this surprising summer day her pinky extended to caress his before capturing it as her own.  

Not far from the Ferris wheel entrance, they noticed Baz, Zaid and Ines in conversation by the ticket booth. With a timid look at one another Ethan took her whole hand in his and promptly changed course; 

“Photobooth.” 

She can’t say she minded. 

Becca tugged back on his hand stopping him in his tracks. Ethan whipped around, eyes pleading. He did not want to be caught, lest by Baz. 

“Beer first. You gotta catch up,” she enlightened. “I don’t want four photos of Dr. Grouch. I want Ethan.” 

Lucky enough they were at the east entrance while her friends were still camped out by the west. Even more in Ethan’s favor, one of the stalls was a local whiskey distillery. 

“Someone knew you were coming,” Becca joked as she pointed to the wooden stall. 

After some bargaining, the doctors were graciously allowed to down two flights of samples in exchange for Ethan placing a decent-sized delivery order. 

“Last one.” He inspected the liquid. “I will not be offended if you can’t stomach it. Though I will judge you.” He lifted the dixie cup up and she saluted hers as well. 

The thick brown solvent smelled like sweet gasoline and tingled against her tongue. Becca pursed her lips in an attempt to keep an indifferent face. She couldn’t do it. Her mouth begged for air and a chaser. “It burns,” she choked. 

Everything about Becca was endearing. Her cheeks were flushed and her freckles were more prominent than he had ever seen, even in the dusk and illuminated by harsh floodlights. A brisk night breeze washed over them sending a shiver up her spine. Without a second thought, Ethan shrugged out of his cardigan, holding it open for her. 

Becca closed the gap between them, turning her back and slipping her arms into the baggy sleeves of the soft fabric. The closeness and wafts of his cologne were another type of intoxicating. She fell into it. Her back pressed into Ethan’s chest, she tilted to see the ebullient blue eyes gazing down at her. His supple lips parted. The pleasant whiskey-laced breaths enticing her.  

Their locked eyes were glazed, a telling signal that it was about time to let loose. 

Ethan licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Where’s this godforsaken photobooth?”  

With the kindest of smiles she broke the trance, pulling his cardigan tightly around her and moving onto the next activity. 

They moseyed on over to the photobooth, coming full circle on her special day out. 

Being just over 6’4”, Ethan was too tall and the photographer signaled him to sit on the stool. Becca gazed at the box of props in consideration, deciding to go au naturale. She already had the silly photos from earlier, anyway. Looking at Ethan sitting there impatiently Becca bit her lip, deciding on an audacious move. 

She sauntered over, fitting herself perfectly in the space between his legs. She perched herself on his left thigh and draped her arm over the back of his shoulders, feeling every tense muscle along his upper back. Ethan reflexively closed his legs tight to give her better balance and wrapped his left arm securely around her waist. The much too big cardigan slipped, exposing her bare shoulders. Their eyes locked. His free hand flew to the exposed skin of her leg as it lifted to lay across his lap on its own volition. The corners of her lips perked before she turned her head to the camera, letting the photographer know they were more or less ready. 

They both gave their best candid smile. 

Click. 

Becca was so close. Ethan was drawn to the sweet scent of vanilla and gardenias on her neck. His eyes hooded as he relished her, and his left hand grabbed a wanton fistful of sweater.  

Click. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him inching closer, and tilted her head towards him. Their noses brushed. 

“It’s my birthday,” she whispered, their lips mere centimeters apart.  

“Is it?” he murmured. 

Click.  

She nodded sheepishly, her half-lidded eyes never leaving his.  

His wide eyes never looked more crystal clear. 

A signature smirk took place as he hinted, “Then I supposed ‘Happy Birthday’ is in order.” 

His heated breath was sweet with the last notes of whiskey and lingering of mint. It surrounded her, pulling her closer to him. His shallow breaths picked up as her lungs stopped working. It was as if he was breathing for her, giving her life in his simplistic existence. A fleeting pound against her side gave her a push.

She kissed him. For the first time in months they became one.   

Their lips overlapped, capturing his plump bottom lip between her own. His shoulders rounded under her touch. Neither dared to deepen the moment. Her tender kiss became bruising as he gripped her tighter, closer - as close as their flush bodies could become. 

Click. 

Ethan pulled away, “Reb-”  

She pressed her index finger to his lips. “Shh, that’s my present,” she sighed with her forehead against his.   

They sat there longer than acceptable, hearts racing and eyes conveying all they wish they had the courage to say. 

The loud grumble from the photographer brought them back into reality. 

Becca waited a few steps away from the booth as Ethan apologized and paid for the photographs. He bought two copies; folding one delicately in his wallet before walking over and handing the other to her. 

Becca stared at the first photo on the strip, her thumb hovering over their faces. “I can’t believe you’re smiling,” she contentedly muttered. Her eyes trailed down to the last. Looking up at Ethan she told him in earnest, “Best present ever.” 

Ethan’s hand flew to rub the back of his neck as he averted his gaze down to the dewy grass. “I - I knew it’s your birthday, Rookie.”  

She raised a brow, “Came down to celebrate with me?”  

“Something like that.”

Becca found the hidden smile in his features instantly. She went to take a step closer to him, daring for their lips to meet once more. 

But the universe had other plans.  

The loud bellowing voice stopped her motions, “Becks!”  

“Becca!” another rang.  

“Over here!” Bryce shouted once more from a fried food stand. 

They both let out a breath of air. 

Becca bit her lip as she looked from Ethan to Bryce and back to Ethan. “I… should go.” 

Deep brown met clouded blue, both filled with restrained sorrow.  

“Don’t get into any trouble.”  

“No promises.” She winked as she slipped out of his sweater. He accepted the fabric, now envious of how it was able to hold her all evening long. A lightbulb went off in Ethan’s mind as she started to turn away.   

“Oh.. right,” Ethan called her back to attention. She spun around, hopeful. “Here.” He handed her an ivory envelope from his back pocket with her name written out in his fluid script.  

She held the card in the same hand as the photos, looking down at it longingly. “Thank you.” Becca brought the weighted paper up to linger over her heart as she took one more look up at his sapphire blue eyes glistening along with the stars. 

Ethan gave a single nod, “See you tomorrow, Rookie.”  

________________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices​ @dulceghernandez​ @aylamreads​ @binny1985​ @ramseysno1rookie​ @interobanginyourmom​ @queencarb​ @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @purpledragonturtles​ @ramseyandrys​ @ermidc​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @doilooklikeiknow​ @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay @edgiestwinter @rookieoh​ @lucy-268​ @mvalentine​ @lilyvalentine​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @angela8756​​ @pitchblackstars @custaroonie​ @ezekielbhandarivalleros @sanchita012​ @thegreentwin @openheart​   @tsrookie​​ @adrex04​​ @togetherwearerapture​​

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Stone cold- B. Hargrove

Contemplating a pt.2. Let me know if y’all want a second one!! Hope you like it!

For the lovely @winter-captain-01!!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Y/N was rough.

She was the type of girl to punch a guy in the face if he dared touch her ass without her permission.

She was the type of girl to give as good as she gets, against both men and women.

She was dangerous, she was intimidating, and she did it all with her staple black heels on her small feet.

Yet still, Billy couldn’t get enough of the girl who challenged him every step of the way.

Their first meeting sent his heart rate skyrocketing along with his anger levels.

She had parked her Canary Yellow ‘57 Chevy Bel Air a tad too close to his Camaro and without looking he flicked his half done cigarette right on to the hood of her car.

She saw red when she saw him do so.

Naturally, she picked the cigarette up, ensuring it was no longer burning before proceeding to crumble it into his perfectly combed mullet.

He felt the crumbles hit his scalp, still slightly warm from being lit and he turned to thump whoever had the audacity to try something smart with him. Until his eyes fell on the girl.

The first thing he noticed was the height difference. He concluded that the only reason she was able to stretch her arms high enough to reach above his head was on account of the high stilettos her feet were resting in.

“Who the fuck do you think you-“

“Listen here, asswipe,” she snarled at him, stepping a fraction of an inch closer to appear more threatening. Despite the further incline the action placed on her neck. “That ‘Bitch’ crown on your head isn’t too heavy for me to knock off, so flick a dart at my car again, and it’ll go flying.”

Billy smirked at her, rolling his tongue along his teeth in a way he knew captured many girls in the past.

Not this one.

Y/N turned on her heels, sauntering back to her car.

Billy shamelessly watched her behind and her legs as she walked, mind racing with all of the ways he was going to get her to fall to her knees for him.

She turned her head as she opened the door, noticing his gaze. She whistled loudly, snapping his attention from her ass to her face, where he was met with the sight of her middle finger.

Billy practically groaned at the sound of her Chevy starting up, and speeding out of the school parking lot.

What he didn’t notice was the same car stop at the middle school where his sister went to retrieve a certain curly haired boy.

And his friends.

She leaned her head out of the window, eyeing the group.

“Turd burgers!” They all peaked their head up at the sound of her voice, knowing it well. “Asses in seats, feet better be clean.”

She leaned inside, pulling a stick of gum from

The center console and popping it into her mouth as she watched the four boys wave goodbye to a girl.

They climbed in and she remained, skateboard in hand and a frustrated expression on her face.

“Whose that, Dust?”

“That’s our friend, Max,” he announced.

“She’s awesome! Total badass,” Mike continued, stating her name at the same time as his friend.

She looked at her little brother before turning back to the girl whose hair was as fiery as as a sunset.

Y/N eyed her with concern before whistling to her the same way she whistled at the asshole who threw the cancer stick on her car.

She gestured her head to walk closer and the girl obliged, a weary look plastered on her freckled face.

Y/N definitely didn’t miss the way her little brothers face brightened when Max walked near.

Nor did she miss the same expression on Lucas’ face.

“You alright, kiddo? You need a ride?” Max turned to see that most of the kids had piled into their own parents’ cars, or the bus.

The girl huffed, standing on her toes to peak over the car towards the high school.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. My asshole brother should be here soon. He’s meant to pick me up.”

Y/N fixed her with a look, frowning.

She was tough with people her own age and older, but she had a soft spot for kids.

“Okay, but if you need a ride home any day, let me know.” Max nodded softly, a small smile on her face. “Lord knows I need another female around with these dorks.”

She earned a smack to her shoulder from her little brother as payment, and a chorus of offended exclamations from the boys in the back.

“Catcha, kiddo,” Y/N winked at the girl, not leaving until she waved back and stepped away from the curb.

When she did, the Chevy was pulled away from the curb and sped away.

The next day she left the school with intentions of dropping her (basically adopted) kids at the arcade while she makes a beeline first the record shop.

Her and Dustin were in need of some new albums, and she wanted to find something for her mum.

What she didn’t expect was to run into a certain curly haired asshole in the rock section.

“Well,” she heard from behind her, far too close to her ear. “If I had have known you’d be here, I would have dressed nicer.” Y/N turned to meet Billy Hargrove, standing way too close to her with a smirk plastered on his face. “Or I would have dressed down. Whatever you please, princess.”

She rolled her eyes at the wink he sent her, turning around.

“Call me that again, Hargrove, and I’ll shove your mullet down your throat.”

“Then what should I call you? You haven’t told me your name,” his smirk was still in full force, as well as the pinch in his brow. He didn’t like when people were rude to him, but he felt the challenge in the girl, and it was drawing him in.

“Y/N.” She huffed, “I would love to stay and chat but, I actually wouldn’t.”

She want to walk away, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist.

“Well, Y/N,” he loved the way her name sounded on his tongue. “How about you and I catch up soon? Spend a little time together?”

She scoffed, laughing obnoxiously and pulling her wrist from his grip. Thankfully, she had already paid for her vinyls and was free to leave.

“Call me when you get an attitude adjustment, asswipe.”

She quickly hustled back to the arcade, as fast as her heels would allow and found comfort with the fiery headed girl.

“They’re still trying to beat your high score, huh?” Y/N chirped, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Max made a sound of acknowledgement, watching them with tired eyes.

“Gets a bit boring when you’ve got the high score on the decent games,” her smirk was proud, and awfully familiar in manner to Y/N, but she chose to ignore it.

“Here,” Y/N nudged the shoulder of the girl, “come have a look at the records I bought.”

Max’ eyes lit up. She loved the arcade, but she simply wanted to be at home.

The desire in its own was unnatural to her, as she despised being around Neil, but she was worried about her mum. And her step-brother.

The night before was rough. Billy had gotten into it with Neil because their ‘father’ had put his hands on Max’ mum.

Billy didn’t like that one bit and stood up for the woman, only to earn a visit from Neil’s belt.

Y/N let the boys know they would be outside, before leading the girl to her car.

They sat for who knows how long talking, and Max quickly grew to admire the older girl.

Y/N was halfway through a story detailing the time her and Dustin had a three-hour-long marathon of some dancing arcade game she couldn’t remember the name of, when a blue Camaro pulled up.

Both girls ignored the sound of the engine, as Y/N continued her wholesome story.

By the end of it, she was so tired that her little brother (who was half the dancer she was) ended up whooping her ass.

The only thing that caught their attention was the sound of a husky voice that had Y/N groaning in frustration.

“Well, well, well,” Billy said. “If it isn’t the stone cold broad herself.”

“I feel like every time you open your mouth, something else boring comes out,” Y/N whispered, throwing her head back to the sky.

“Keep telling yourself that, honey.” Billy maneuvered around Y/N, heading to stand next to Max. “You ready, shithead? Neil gets home soon, so we need to be back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Max answered after a minute. Her eyes were downcast in fear, and Y/N found herself wondering if she was afraid of the man standing next to her.

The realization clicked in her head. “Oh! He’s your brother?” Her tone started off high, lowering as she got to the end of her sentence while her face shifted into a frown.

“Step-brother,” Max and Billy said at the same time.

Y/N nodded, looking up from her position seated on the hood of her car, as she saw the door to the arcade open.

She shouted loudly towards the opening, catching the attention of the four boys to signal their leave.

“Alright, Maxie, gotta give you something before you go,” Y/N stood before reaching into her car, bent over the window. She could feel the way Billy gazed at her backside. She handed the girl a piece of paper with a number scribbled on the side. “That’s my number. You need anything, or a lift to school just give me a ring.”

Max fixed her with a small smile. A grateful one that shone through her eyes.

“Where’s my number?” Billy winked at her.

“Stare at my ass again and you won’t have fingers left to dial anybody,” Y/N halted her words to look the man up and down. She couldn’t deny that she liked what she saw, but she refused to allow her mind to wander. “Or to flog your log, asswipe.”

“Ooh, feisty. You get more attractive as the days pass,” Billy winked, turning around and nudging his sister again. “In the car, shithead.”

The boys piled into her car, and she sped off as soon as they were all clear of the road.

She was flustered from Billy’s words, and annoyed at the mullet headed man.

Days passed, random calls from Max, and requests for a lift to school when Billy was unavailable.

Y/N didn’t know what was meant by the term, but whenever he was unavailable, he was also absent from school.

She hated herself for caring what happened to the boy, but she found herself developing an attraction to him.

According to Max, her obnoxious step-brother had developed quite the infatuation with the older Henderson.

Despite this, Y/N was still shocked to great extents when her home phone blared to life at 3AM one Saturday morning, and Y/N answered in a bleary state to her soft sobbing on the other end.

“Y/N?” She heard a masculine voice that she instantly recognized to be Billy. Her heart race picked up. “You busy?”

[jaeminhours]

In Loving Memory

SUMMARY | Dying isn’t something that’s supposed to happen to kids. It happens to grandparents, and people who smoke cigarettes outside the supermarket, who are dying anyway, who have used up all the time they've got. It doesn’t happen to boys like Lee Jeno, your best friend, who makes music and smiles like he’s holding the sun on the tip of his tongue. It doesn’t happen to Jeno, until it does.

PAIRING | Lee Jeno x Reader

CATEGORY | cellist!jeno, friends to lovers au, pure angst

WORD COUNT | 9.5k

WARNINGS | character death, cursing (a lot), mentions of sickness (cancer), mentions of death, etc

SONG REC | Talking to the Moon - Bruno Mars

Jeno lies in your mother’s flowerbed, daisies tangling in his dark hair, stars dancing in his even darker eyes. White petals trace pollen over his honeyed skin, soft blades of grass caress his cheek with the gentle touch of a summer breeze. His fingers are laced with yours, his skin warm and comforting. His eyes smile at the sun, curved crescent moons meeting the sunlight halfway to the sky, a million times darker and yet twice as bright. His face is so clear, golden beneath the light of the sun, and your eyes trace the moles that form constellations on the smooth expanse of his skin. He’s squinting, staring back at you against the soft glare of the now setting sun, shades of dawn painting his face the color of a dying sky, and yet Jeno has never looked so alive, so at peace, so serene. You wonder how you came to be here, lying in the dirt, petals crushed beneath your backs, and a dying breath carried away by the wind.

You shouldn’t be here; Jeno shouldn’t be here, and it is too soon, too early for him to go, but the sun is setting and the hours are slipping away, slipping between your grasping fingers and pleading lips, and soon, it’ll be time for him to leave, to say his goodbyes and go to bed, before the moon rises and paints his skin in silver and white tones. He will leave with the sun, and stay with the moon.

“Stay,” you whisper to him.

A rose brushes past your fingertips, the thorns digging into your ankles.

“Please stay.”

He smiles, traces a finger along the dip of your collarbone.

“I’m not leaving,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

Jeno had never been good at keeping secrets, especially when it came to you. You’d once told him that he told you everything with his eyes, with the way he looked at you with words swirling in his irises. He’d said that it was okay, that he should never have to hide anything from his best friend, ever.

“Promise we’ll never lie to each other?” he said to you one night under a full moon, with scraped palms and bruised knees and a basketball rolling beneath his feet.

You promised, because it didn’t seem that hard. You’d never felt compelled to lie to Lee Jeno, and neither had he.

(Promises are meant to be broken.)

Which is exactly the reason why he called you on a Saturday morning, at 8:32 AM, and told you that he was dying.

“I have leukemia,” came his voice over your phone’s speakerphone. Somehow, he still sounded strong, like the Jeno you knew, like the Jeno you had known.

“What?” you choked out. “Are you joking? This isn’t funny, you know.”

There was rustling on the other line, before his voice touched you once again.

“No. I’m not joking. It’s true.”

There were no more words, just soft, anxious breaths. You found yourself looking everywhere but anywhere, the pictures on your walls blurring, the colors swirling.

“When did you find out?” you said, forcing your voice to stay strong. You didn’t really know what to do; you’d never been in this sort of situation before.

“Just now,” he said. “My mom made me go to the hospital for my nosebleeds. This wasn’t really what she was expecting, I think.”

A dry laugh forced itself from your throat. “Yeah, I bet.”

A stagnant pause. Your heart beat heavily in your chest, but you could hardly feel it, like your lungs were made of clouds and rainwater, and your blood was made of lightning and thunder, thrumming against your chest so quickly you could barely make out each individual beat. You felt light-headed, but you needed to hear more.

“This won’t change anything, right?” you said. “You’ll get treatment, and everything, and you’ll be okay.”

Not a single lie, he promised. Not one, only one, none.

“Don’t worry,” he said. It was all he said, and it held the weight of a lie, yet not the name.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

He hung up, left you with the dial tone ringing in your ears, salt on your tongue and a quiet thunder scorching your heart. It fastened, then slowed, irregular, and confused.

 It could still just be a dream, so you blinked, hard, until colors swirled beneath the darkness, imprinting images onto the bareness of your bedroom walls as soon as you opened them, letting the light flood in.

One breath in, one out. Two more in, two more out.

And then, in a second, it was no longer real.

There was nothing else to do except sit down and breathe, and you didn’t know exactly how to feel. Your best friend had just delivered the news of his own death sentence, and yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but an immense void pulling at your chest.

It told you to feel something, to cry and scream, but all you could think is that this wasn’t real.

Kids didn’t die. People you knew didn’t die, or get sick. This wasn’t supposed to happen to you; this wasn’t supposed to happen to Jeno.

This was something you read about in books and saw in movies when you wanted a good cry, when you were looking for heartbreak. It wasn’t something that actually happened to people, until it did.

But nothing had changed, not really, and you didn’t cry, or scream, or yell. Instead, you put down your phone, sit at your desk, and finished your homework.

You tried not to think.

 Your parents came home hours later after running errands, and you told them what your best friend told you with a blank face and blanker words, the name cancer rolling off your tongue and leaving a bitter, biting taste in your mouth.

Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes watering as she glanced franticly toward her husband, who looked back at her wearing a similarly stunned expression.

You didn’t know how to tell them that you didn’t know what to feel, that it didn’t feel real, and that you were sure that Jeno would still be here in a month’s time, or a year, or ten, or thirty. It didn’t matter if he really did have cancer, because you didn’t remember what a world without Jeno was like and you didn’t want to find out.

The first thing your mother asked you is if you were alright.

“Yes,” you said. “I think so.”

Then she asked if Jeno was alright.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “I haven’t talked to him since… this morning.”

She frowned. “You need to. Talk to him soon, okay? If you’re right, that boy’s going to need you more than ever now.”

“You’re not going to die.”

You were sitting on your bedroom floor, Jeno by your side, staring at the ceiling. His fingertips were brushing yours, and every once in a while, he took a deep breath, then let it out, as if he had something that he wanted desperately to say, but it just didn’t want to come out quite yet.

“How would you know that?” he said, smiling at the ceiling. “I have to die eventually, don’t I?”

You shook your head, and turned on your side to face him. “Not you. Not Lee Jeno. Not my best friend. You’re gonna live forever.”

He giggled, his eyes curving into crescents.

“You’re disgustingly optimistic, you know,” he said. “My chances aren’t good. At least, that’s what the doctor says.”

You winced. “Shut up. Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he said simply. He picked up a stray piece of popcorn on the carpet from earlier and popped it in his mouth.

“Anyway,” he began, “even if I am going to die, I’m not gonna go out sitting on my ass the whole time, hoping for a different ending. I’m going to make the best of the time I’ve got left.”

“Please stop talking like that,” you begged. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Just listen to me,” he said softly. “You’re my best friend, okay? Please just do this for me. Please just help me.”

His eyes were boring into yours, dark and relentless, and it wasn’t long before you gave in. A piece of your heart fell away.

“Okay. Fine.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna be really selfish, okay? But I’m dying, so I feel like I have the right.”

“Jeno, seriously. Not funny.”

He just smiled wider, softer, prettier. “I want you do things you’ve always done, exactly how you always do them, like nothing’s different, like nothing’s changed."

You rolled yourself onto your back, staring up at the ceiling and willing yourself not to cry. “I hate you,” you breathed out, but Jeno only laughed.

“I know,” he said. “But just do this for me, please.”

His demand confused you. Where were you even supposed to start? How were you supposed to do anything right for your best friend?

How were you supposed to pretend that everything was normal?

How were you supposed to pretend that this was alright?

Jeno turned to look you in the eyes.

“Everything is alright,” he said. “I promise.”

You didn’t believe him, but for now, that was okay.

And it really did seem okay, at first, like nothing had changed. Jeno still came to school, still played soccer for his team (although he’d started sitting out at games), still waved to you from his bedroom window, still smiled that same bright, blindingly beautiful smile. He still stayed past his last class of the day, orchestra, to play his cello in the music room, alone, only himself and his cello and the sounds they made together bouncing off the walls.

You stood just outside the door, where Jeno couldn’t quite see you, and listened. Jeno really was quite good, a miracle, really, considering he couldn’t afford his own instrument at home, but Jeno had always been so much more than ordinary.

He played with his eyes fluttered closed, only the slightest tension between his brows revealing anything other than complete serenity and focus. His lips, soft and pink even from afar, were slightly parted, and he breathed along with the music, each swell of his chest moving as one with his cello.

Alone, at that moment, Jeno seemed larger than life, larger than any orchestra or quartet, just by himself. His playing was loud and clear and deep, even on the school’s decrepit cello—which was littered with pencil marks and grooves down its sides—and his movements were smooth and graceful, like a dancer’s.

You took a step forward, entranced by the music, and you cursed as your sneaker squeaked against the tile floor, attracting Jeno’s attention and causing him to cease playing immediately.

You gave him a sheepish grin, and he pouted, the tips of his ears coloring pink.

“You know I hate it when you sneak up on me playing,” he whined, but his tone was far from serious, and an ever-present smile still pulled at the curve of his lips.

“But you’re so good, Jeno,” you replied, pulling up a chair across from him and pulling your knees up to your chin. “You should see yourself when you just, like, let everything go. When you don’t think anyone’s watching… it’s spectacular, to say the least.”

Jeno waved you off, looking shy. “Oh, stop,” he said, fanning himself with a mock air of superiority. “I’m blushing.”

“You love it, you big baby.”

He laughed, breathily, the sort of happy pant he sometimes made that never failed to make your heart swell with affection.

“True, but Mom always tells me to be humble,” he joked.

“You’re really bad at it.”

“Hey!”

You dodged his swat, almost falling out of your chair from your laughter. “I’m kidding!”

“But, really,” you started, “won’t you ever play for me? You have no reason to be shy about your playing.”

Jeno looked down, picking at his fingernails, muttered something under his breath.

You leaned closer, your brow furrowing. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

He looked up, shaking his head. “Nothing, I mean, I will. Someday.”

You pouted, and punched his shoulder. “Soon, okay? Promise me.”

“Ah, Y/N, seriously. You’ve heard me play so many times!” he said, flinching away from you.

“Yeah, but it’s never just me, unless you’re practicing. I just want to hear you get through a full performance without shying away as soon as you realize someone’s listening.”

He groaned, falling back in his seat. “You make me nervous,” he confesses.

You cock your head to the side. “What? Jeno, we’re best friends, how could I possibly make you nervous?” you asked, puzzled.

“You matter so much to me,” he said quietly, staring intently at the tiled floor. “I care what you think, and… I want it to be perfect.”

“Are you still saving up for your own cello?” you asked. Jeno had been saving up for his own instrument for years, and he was nearly there.

Jeno chuckled awkwardly, and your blood ran cold as he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, so, about that…”

“Oh, Jeno, no.”

He smiled grimly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah, with everything going on, and the expenses… we needed the money.”

“I’m so sorry, Jeno. I know how much you wanted that,” you told him.

He waved you off. “Really, it’s fine. I’m okay with this crap old thing, I promise,” he said, gesturing to the school cello, abandoned on the floor. You winced.

“Really, Jeno—”

“Just drop it, okay?”

You sighed in defeat, and then—wait, was that blood?

Something dark was trailing from Jeno’s nose. He brought a hand up to his face, his eyes widening as his fingertips came away stained with blood.

“Fuck,” he said, stumbling from his seat and ripping a tissue from the box.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Jeno, what is that? Why are you bleeding?”

He was holding the tissue to his nose, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Is this because of the treatment? Jeno?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes. He muttered something under his breath, something you couldn’t quite catch.

“Jeno?”

He looked up. “It’s not from treatment, Y/N. I—”

“You what?” you said, your voice becoming shrill. You were scared, terrified of what you’d just seen, of what it had meant. “Jeno, what?”

“I’m not getting treatment,” he blurted out, and it was if an immense weight had been lifted from his chest. “I’m not getting treatment, I’m not.”

“Excuse me—”

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

“what do you mean—”

“It’s my decision.”

“—you’re not getting treatment!?”

He sat back down, letting out a sigh as he collapsed into his chair, rubbing his forehead with one hand, while the other kept the tissue pressed to his nose.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he cursed, hissing. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t—”

You didn’t say anything, let Jeno cut himself off, let tears brim at your eyes, let yourself hear him say the words he was never, ever supposed to say.

“I said no, Y/N, to the treatment,” he said. He was taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“Why?” you choked out. “Jeno you could—”

“I will,” he said simply. “Yeah, you’re right. I am going to die.”

You couldn’t help the sob that ripped from your throat, an ugly gasp that came so suddenly you wouldn’t be surprised if you coughed up blood.

Had Jeno really just said that?

Was this real, or was it just a nightmare?

“Jeno—”

“Just shut up for one second, okay? I’m sorry, just let me say this.”

“Why?” you gasped. “Why would you choose that?”

Jeno’s eyes turned sad.

He smiled.

Bright.

Real.

Sad.

Happy.

Sorry.

“Because, Y/N, I don’t want to be afraid,” he murmured. “The fact is, my chances are shit. Like, really shit. Even if I did go through with the treatment, it’s more than likely I’d end up dead in a few years anyway. And it would fucking suck, the whole time. And maybe some people want to go out fighting, and that’s okay, but I don’t. That’s not me. I don’t want to run from it. I hate pain.”

“What the fuck,” you laughed, choking on tears. “Literally, what the fuck.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, you’re gonna die, what the fuck.”

“I know, Y/N. I’m really sorry”

You whipped your head up, glaring at him. “Sorry? Sorry???”

He winced, his eyes darting from yours back to the floor.

“What else am I supposed to say?” he said quietly.

You scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe give me an actual reason why you’d rather die than give yourself a fucking chance.”

Jeno’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. “Y/N, I—”

“Save it,” you snapped, snatching your bag from the floor. “You want to die, that’s your own fucking business. If I—the rest of us, I mean, your friends and family, aren’t enough for you to try to stay, then fine. See if I fucking care.”

Jeno didn’t try to say anything else; he just sat there, watched you stalk out the door, your feet marching past the cello abandoned on the floor.

 And for a second, just for one moment, Jeno saw himself in the scarred, scratched wood of the unloveliest instrument to ever exist, all ruddy strings and dents. They were the same, weren’t they? Young, but dying. On their last legs. Too expensive to fix. Not worth it. Not worth the pain.

But Jeno couldn’t buy a new body. His song would leave with him.

“Fuck you,” he breathed out.

The cello just stared back, breathing, silent, dead.

“I hate him, Renjun, I hate him so much!”

You were storming around your room, your nails digging into your scalp as you fumed in frustration. Renjun, one of yours and Jeno’s closest friends, sat on your bed, watching you with sad, red-rimmed eyes.

“How could he be so selfish? Why didn’t he tell me?” you huffed.

“I mean, technically he did,” Renjun pointed out. You glared at him, and he shut up.

“Are you seriously okay with this?” you snapped. “You’re okay with Jeno letting himself die? Without even trying?”

Renjun shrugged, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He took a deep breath, then let it out.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m exhausted,” Renjun sighed. “I just think it’s up to him. We don’t know how he feels—we can’t even begin to imagine. And, honestly, I think he kind of has the right to be selfish. He is dying, you know.”

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded. “He could be okay.”

“That’d need a miracle, Y/N.”

If there was one person (only one) who deserved a miracle in his life, it was Lee Jeno. It was Jeno, the boy who wanted to be a veterinarian, and worked so hard to get into his dream university, and kissed his friends on their cheeks and loved little kids and kittens and sunshine on rainy days. It was Jeno who deserved to live the longest life, to grow old with his husband or wife and his three children (two girls and a boy—that’s what he wanted), to grow his own garden and play his own cello in his own living room as the sun set and the golden light washed through the room. It was him, and it would always be Jeno who deserved the best, and only the best.

Yeah, him.

Renjun was looking at you, his eyes sad, his posture slumped. “You should tell him, you know.”

You frowned. “About what?”

“How you feel about him,” he said casually.

“Excuse me, what?” You gaped at him.

Renjun wrinkled his nose up at you, sneering. “Excuse me, what?” he said in a high-pitched voice, mocking you. “Oh, grow up, Y/N. Anyone a mile away could tell you’re both head over fuckin’ heels for each other. It’s disgusting, honestly.”

Ah, right. Renjun. Fuck Renjun.

One thing about Renjun was that he was annoyingly observant. He read people like an open book, which might be part of the reason he found it so incredibly easy to ingratiate himself so seamlessly into your friend group.

Renjun was kind and witty, and loving and sharp, and he was so, infuriatingly right, because you were totally and completely in love with your dying best friend.

“How did you even know?” you said, aghast. “What the fuck, Renjun, I mean…”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “This sucks, man. Like, I feel for you, really. And yeah, Jeno’s been a little selfish lately, for good reason, but so have you.”

You glared at him. “Hey—”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but Y/N… don’t you want to make sure it counts?”

“What are you getting at?”

He sat up, gazing into your eyes intently. “I’m saying, please don’t leave things unsaid. Don’t let them go unheard. For you, and for Jeno.”

Fuck. You hated it when Renjun was right, which was pretty often.

You dropped down next to him, your chin resting on your palms, your elbows on your knees.

“I hate you. I hate this,” you grumbled.

Renjun sighed, heavy, and low. “I know. Me too.”

Jeno called you at midnight.

You woke to the sound of Haikyuu’s opening theme song and the light from your cellphone shining on your bedroom ceiling.

You groaned, but a part of you was relieved that Jeno had come to you first. You answered the call immediately, your heart racing.

“Lee Jeno, it’s almost one in the morning.”

A laugh, from the other line.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hushed, hoarse. “I just needed to hear you. I needed to say sorry.”

You sighed, falling back on your bed. “Oh, Jeno. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for all of this shit that’s going on. I’m sorry for not talking to you before. I’m just really, really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jeno, I understand,” you said softly. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was being… selfish, I guess.”

A beat of silence.

“Can I see you?” came Jeno’s voice, tentative, daring.

You glanced to the clock. “Uh, I mean, it’s really late, Jen.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, you’re right. Stupid question.”

You laughed, but it came out shallow, and tinny. You frowned.

“I didn’t say no, Jeno. Uh, yeah, of course you can,” you said. “Should we meet somewhere?”

You could practically hear him grinning.

“Definitely,” he said, his voice suddenly confident. “Meet me outside—I’ll drive.”

He hung up, and then, you felt it.

A smile.

It felt foreign on your face, and when you pressed a hand to your chest, your heart was racing.

“Stop it,” you whispered, but the stupid grin remained, and your racing heart only beat harder.

  Jeno was an awful driver, and his car was total shit (the front windows were permanently stuck open—Jeno said it was okay because no one would ever think to steal from the literal pile of trash that is his car), but that’s kind of what made driving with him so fun. The wind tangled through your hair, and bubblegum pop blasted on Jeno’s ugly, scratchy radio, and there were bright smiles on both your faces—new smiles, real, that hadn’t been smiled in what felt like years.

“Why are you taking us to the pool? It’s way after hours,” you said, pulling your head back instead the car.

He pouted at you. “I’m not taking you to the pool! You’re not supposed to know—it’s a surprise.”

“This is the way to the pool,” you pointed out.

Jeno groaned. “I said, it was supposed to be a surprise. You’re seriously no fun.”

“You’re seriously bad at surprises, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno only rolled his eyes as he pulled into the pool parking lot. “Just shut up, and have fun, okay?”

You kept talking, even as Jeno led to you the gated entrance of the pool.

“Literally how are we even going to get inside? Are you gonna jump the—”

“Yes,” Jeno cut you off. “Yes, we are going to jump the fence.”

“Shut up.”

You were grinning. “Shut up, oh my god.”

Jeno laughed. “Why are you smiling?!”

“Since when did student council president Lee Jeno become so fun?” you joked, beaming.

“Since I found out I was dying,” he retorted, and your smile faded.

“Ah, too soon?” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Of course. Of course you had to ruin the mood.”

He laughed again. “I’m so sorry, really. Let’s just go, okay? It’s a school day tomorrow, and I’m exhausted.”

You shook your head vehemently, lunging forward to grasp his arm. “No, absolutely not. You brought me here, you started this, and you’re finishing it.”

“This is trespassing,” he whined. “It was a stupid idea.”

“It’s a great stupid idea!”

“No, it’s really not?”

“Please, Jeno? Please just be fun, for once? Please? This was literally your idea.”

Jeno relented, rolling his eyes. He boosted you over the short brick wall that blocked your way to the pool first, then tried pulling himself up. It was evident he thought it’d be easy—his eyes unworried, muscles relaxed, but then it wasn’t, and he couldn’t pull himself up. He should’ve been able to—a couple months ago, this would have been easy.

You were sitting on top of the wall, worry creasing your brow. “Jeno? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Just great. Totally fine. Actually, could you help me a little?”

You helped pull him over the wall, letting his body slump over yours in exhaustion once he made it to the top, and then you slid off to the other side, waiting for Jeno at the bottom.

“I feel pathetic,” he whined, pouting at you. He was making light of the situation, but you could tell he was hurting, that he had just been shocked by his own body’s betrayal.

“It’s fine, Jeno,” you said, holding your hand up for him to take. “You’re just sick.”

More than sick—dying.

“You’re not supposed to lie to me,” Jeno grumbled.

(It’s not a lie if you both know it isn’t true.)

The lights in the pool were still on, illuminating it an artificial bright blue under the light of the moon. The breeze created soft ripples across the pool’s surface, and the stars swam with the waves.

“Come on,” you said. You were still holding Jeno’s hand.

 The water was cold when you jumped in. It washed over your skin and jolted you awake, set your nerves on fire.

The world was different underwater.

Serene, gentle, softer.

Everything seemed slower.

(Even time, it seemed.)

Jeno was laughing, bubbles escaping from his mouth as he kicked to the surface, adoration flooding your entire body, your heart, your soul.

And for a moment, you wished you could stay there, beneath the water’s surface, watching the boy you maybe kind of loved smiling and laughing, letting the water wash away your troubles, your scars and worries and the ugly future fate had in store for you.

But you couldn’t breathe, and the chlorine was stinging your eyes, so you had to let go of that seemingly perfect moment, and swim back to reality.

At least you could hear his laughter above water, even if it almost hurt to hear.

When you rose above the water, Jeno was grinning at you.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly. “Thank you for being with me all this time. For being my stupid best friend.”

“Oh, how flattering.”

“You know what I mean, really.”

“Do I?”

He was moving closer, cutting through the water before he had you pinned against the edge, the water lapping at your sternum, beating against your ribcage to the same drum of your heart.

His eyes bored into you, dark, bright, sad, happy, lonely. So full, so empty.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, until your bodies were pressed together, your hearts lined up and singing, your blood rushing and ears ringing.

Was he going to kiss you?

His eyes flashed to your lips.

And then something in his expression changed, and his head dropped to your shoulder, his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he shook in your arms.

(He didn’t kiss you.)

Something raw and ugly ripped from his throat, a hoarse cry muffled into your wet t-shirt, and you pressed him further into you, not knowing what else to do, because your best friend was sobbing in your arms.

“Jeno,” you murmured, but that was all that was said, all that was shared.

Sometimes its not words that people need, or even want. Sometimes they just need to be able to let go, to say something without saying anything, to break down, to scream, to cry, and that’s alright. Sometimes that’s the way they say something that can’t be said, something that can’t be expressed. Sometimes that’s okay, but sometimes they need to talk eventually, to let someone know and let unsaid words become said. Sometimes they need someone, someone to wait and someone to stay, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they can do it all alone, but most often not. Jeno needed someone. Jeno needed you.

Time seemed to pass without a care in the world, as if your entire universe hadn’t been churning, hadn’t been flipped upside down. School went on as usual. You still ate dinner at seven in the afternoon, at the dinner table, with the rest of your family. You still did your homework and still studied. You still made plans for the future. You still waved to Jeno across the street, before you turned your lights out and surrendered to the moon. And if it weren’t for Jeno, you might’ve almost felt normal.

And then, he started missing school. He got paler, got light-headed, even had to quit soccer. He couldn’t race you home after school anymore—he got too winded after the first fifty meters.

All he had, really, was music.

Orchestra was his last period of the day, which was why he often ended up missing it, sent home early—sick.  

But on the off chance that he did manage to make it through the day, to tough it out through the stares and whispers and blinding, flickering lights, you were there, waiting for him outside the music room before the last bell rang.

It was one of those days he didn’t make it.

Donghyuck, a violist who you knew Jeno sat next to in his spot in second chair, told you as much as the bell rang and he rushed out of class.

“Sorry,” he said, shrugging. “He wasn’t here today.”

So it was just you, suddenly, alone in the room Jeno had made so many memories in.

And the cello in the corner, with its deep grooves and pencil marks, and suddenly you found yourself drawn to it, running your fingers down its curves, tugging at the strings, and something inside of you broke.

All those memories.

Little Lee Jeno, playing his cello in the sixth grade. His playing had been so ugly, so scratchy that you’d joked your ears were about to bleed. It was the first time you’d seen Jeno so seriously frustrated—he’d been on the verge of tearing his hair out at every wrong note, but he wouldn’t stop, he just wouldn’t give up, no matter what. Nothing had been able to stop him, not money or time or homework or whatever the fuck else was in his way. Nothing except cancer.

 Fuck cancer.

 You hated it so much. You hated the world for doing this to someone like Jeno, for not giving him the slightest chance, for making him so fucking amazing, such a fucking gift to the world, and then taking him away just like that. You hated the world for giving Jeno that ugly-as-shit car and this even uglier cello that only ever gave Jeno grief, because he deserved so much more than this.

You needed to do something first, before the world could take anything else.

 That night, you smashed your piggy bank on the floor, watched the pieces scatter across the carpet, watched something new bloom.

Honestly, you had no idea how Jeno would react to you showing up on his doorstep just as the evening hit with a cello case strapped to your back. You were panting, sweat plastering your forehead as you rang the doorbell, but Jeno’s expression made it so worth it.

“What. Is. That,” he said. His eyes were wide, voice soft, yet sharp.

“A gift. An early birthday present,” you answered, tugging the instrument off your back.

“No way,” he gasped. “Oh, you didn’t, no way…”

He looked up at you, and you knew what he was about to say before he even said it.

“Don’t even think about saying I shouldn’t have done this, Lee Jeno,” you scolded. “I know you like to not listen to me, but this is the least I could do for you. And for me too, okay? I just want to see you play.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I hate you, this is so insane.”

You laughed, pushing him through his doorway and following him inside. “Well, try it out. See if you like it.”

He was more than eager.

 Jeno played like it was his last day on Earth. He smiled the whole time, warm and bright, held the cello tightly to his chest as he played.

He’d once told you that one of the things he loved most about the instrument was the way it felt pressed against his body when played, the way it vibrated in his arms. He said it felt like, rather than the music, it was his own body that was crescendoing, growing louder and stronger with each passing note.

It was the first time in months you’d seen him like that, so care-free. A part of you was happy that he got to play his song on something other than that crappy cello in the music room corner.

“Do you like it?” you asked as he finished, loosening his bow and buckling the cello back into its case.

He grinned as he leaned it against the corner wall of his bedroom. “I love it so much,” he said, then pouted, looking at you with wide eyes. “But I feel bad,” he whined. “You realize I’m not going to be able to pay you back, right? I’m… not going to have time.”

You shook your head. “Don’t talk like that,” you scolded, pulling him closer. “Think of it as a gift for me too, okay? There was literally nothing in the world I wanted more than to see you playing something other than that ugly school cello.”

Jeno laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much. Thank you so much.”

(He loves you? He loves you.)

You’d said it to each other so many times over the years—over the phone, from your bedrooms as you waved each other goodnight, anywhere, everywhere, anytime, every time—but for some reason, this felt different.

Maybe it was the way his skin felt so hot against yours, or the way you could feel the thrum of his heart through the thin fabric of his hoodie, or how he smelled faintly of peach and honey, or how even though he looked so pale, so thin, so tired, he was still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

For a single second, time turned the opposite direction, and for a single second, everything was the way it was supposed to be.

You’d known Lee Jeno since you were toddlers. You’d been best friends since you could walk. You went to the same school every year, sat at lunch together. You paired up for projects and had sleepovers and did each other’s homework. You snuck through each other’s windows at midnight, even though you could’ve just gone through the front door—you both had keys, and your parents didn’t care. You fell in love years ago, you’d loved for years, and you’d known. And at eighteen years old, during your senior of high school, Lee Jeno didn’t get cancer. Lee Jeno wasn’t dying. He was here, with you, in love, finally. This was when it was supposed to happen. This was when you were supposed to get your happy ending.

A single second was all it took.

Lee Jeno, your best friend, your forever, loving memory, leaned down and kissed you.

His lips were dry and chapped, but his mouth tasted like lemon drops, sharp and tangy and sweet. He was hot against you, almost feverish, and sweat dotted his brow, but he didn’t seem to care (just for a second). His hands held you by the waist, and Jeno held you the same as always—tightly, but tenderly, as if he feared that if he were to let you go, even for a second, you would disappear.

(Looking back on it, maybe he was just afraid he was about to float away.)

His fingers dug into your hips, and he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before licking over it. He groaned into your mouth as your hand tugged at his hair, a sweet, low sound that shook you to your core.

“Jeno,” you gasped, as his mouth travelled to your jaw, sucking on the skin just between your jawline and your neck. “Jeno, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured into your skin.

And then that single second ended, and time rewound, and Jeno was no longer your great love story—he was, once again, a dying boy, a short story about to reach its very last chapter, and he knew that best of all.

“Stop,” he gasped, trying to push you away. “Stop, we shouldn’t.”

You didn’t want to stop. You wanted to love and hold and kiss him for all the time he had left in this world; you wanted to what Renjun had said, and make the most of it.

“Jeno, don’t,” you warned, pleading. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s okay, we’re okay, we can do this—”

But he wasn’t okay. He was breathing roughly, his fists clenched, cheeks burning red. “I can’t do this to you!” he snapped. “I can’t keep doing this to people, fuck!”

“Just go,” he panted, clutching his side. “Just leave, please!”

How could you possibly argue with a dying man? So you left, muttering a quick apology under your breath before leaving, before shutting the door behind you and rushing out of his house, ignoring his mother’s startled exclamation upon seeing your distressed expression as she pulled into the driveway. She didn’t chase you down, though; instead, she rushed into her home, looking terrified. You almost scoffed. As if you’d leave Jeno is he was really hurt. No, it was Jeno who was doing the hurting, now.

 That night, you wondered why people chose to hurt themselves like Jeno did, to punish themselves the way Jeno chose to do so often now. You’d seen it; you’d noticed the way Jeno shied away from everything that might give him a moment of joy or happiness, a second of respite from reality. It was as if he wanted to hurt, as if he though he deserved everything that was happening to him.

How did one get so far from the truth? It made you angry—at him, at yourself, at the sun and moon and stars and everything and everyone that decided that this was okay to do to someone like Lee Jeno, to someone as young and undeserving as Lee Jeno.

You couldn’t understand, and you hated it.

Dying wasn’t something that was supposed to happen to kids. It happened to grandparents, and people who smoked cigarettes outside the supermarket, who were dying anyway, who had used up all the time they’d got. It didn’t happen to boys like Lee Jeno, your best friend, who made music and smiled like he was holding the sun on the tip of his tongue. It didn’t happen to Jeno, until it did, and that was the worst of all.

Jeno wouldn’t pick up your calls.

You’d begun to panic, starting to call your friends, his family, everyone in between. It made you anxious to not be able to contact him, to be separated from him for this long.

Especially in his condition. (You never knew if you’d get the chance to say goodbye.)

You were on the verge of a breakdown nearly a week later, clawing at your skin as you paced along your bedroom floor, wearing down the already threadbare carpet, when Jeno’s mother knocked on your door.

You’d thought it was your own mother, at first, had snapped at her to go away—which, at any other time, would have been fatal to do so—but when the soft voice of Jeno’s mom wafted through the cracks in the door, you’d stopped pacing, and opened it.

His mother looked almost worse than him. Her hair was hung in limp strands around her face, and the bag under her eyes were deep and sallow and purple. Her face was thin, and she looked defeated, her shoulders hunched, hands gripping the front of her coat.

“Can I come in?” she said quietly, and you quickly stepped aside.

“Is Jeno okay?” was the first thing you asked.

She shook her head, and your stomach dropped “No—”

“He’s sick, but he’s alive, child. Don’t worry,” she assured, taking a seat on your bed and gesturing for you to join her. “But he’s being stupid. He feels guilty. And ashamed.”

“He shouldn’t,” you said. “I understand. I’m not mad at him.”

She smiled at you, soft and sad. “I know, dear. I told him as much. But he’s a teenage boy, you know. Sick or not, he’s just a boy.”

“What do you want me to do?” you asked. “I really can’t get ahold of him.”

“Just wait,” she chuckled. Despite her current appearance, there was still a glimmer of a twinkle in her eye, a smile curling at her lips. “I came over to talk to you for him, you know. He wanted to know how you felt about, well, something that happened last week. He wouldn’t tell me what.”

You blushed. “It’s nothing.”

She smirked, patting you on the shoulder. “Take care of my son, okay Y/N? You’ve been with us for so long, you’re a part of the family by now. Please make sure he can go gently, when it’s time.”

She was choking on her words, turning her head slightly so you couldn’t quite see her face. You placed a hand on her arm. “I will, promise.”

(This promise won’t be broken.)

Jeno called you in the evening, just a day later. His voice was hoarse, and weak, and it was so, so scary but you stayed strong as you listened, as he apologized and explained. You told him to shut up, that you understood, that you wished it could be different too, but you understood.

You understood why he pushed you away. It’s hard to start something you know you’re never going to finish. Love is the same.

“Let me take you somewhere,” he said to you. “Just one last time, before I can’t anymore.”

You told him okay, climbed into his stupid, ugly car with it’s stupid, broken windows, and let him take you far away, to where the sun set behind your eyes and the moon rose above your head, and fireflies skimmed the water’s edge as the dawn painted its story across the sky, and the song of crickets sang in your ears under the warmth of the summer breeze.

He took you to Toska Bridge, a place notorious for both its beauty and mysterious impulses of people who leapt from its height. For some reason, no matter how much they wanted to, they never died—the water carried them to safety on the shore, where they’d cough up life and where they were given another chance to breathe. Where second chances were okay, where you could be uncertain.

Locals said that the bridge realized your sorrows, then washed them away.

You didn’t know why Jeno took you here. After all, magic wasn’t real, and even if it was, Jeno needed more than a miracle.

“Why are we here? You’re not going to jump, are you?” you asked, only half joking.

He grinned sheepishly, and gestured to the horizon. “I just needed to show you this. For me. For you.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Jeno leaned against the railing. “Lately, I’ve been getting really angry, you know. So I’ve been coming here, just so I can get things off my shoulders. I can scream up here, at literally anything, and nobody in the world can hear me. Sometimes, that’s really nice.”

He took a deep breath, his cheeks flushed. You stepped forward as he swayed a bit on his feet, but he waved you off, steadying himself on the railing.

“I can tell you’re angry too, and I wanted to come here, to apologize.”

He looked at you, gazing into your eyes. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I was being stupid, and I was wrong. I’m not the only one suffering, okay? I understand that now. I see how my parents are hurting every day, and they try really hard to stay strong, but with you… I felt like I was only hurting you more by being close to you. So I’m sorry. That’s why I disappeared.”

You scoffed, blinking away tears. “That doesn’t even make sense. Stupid.”

Jeno chuckled. “I know, sorry.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Okay, so what now? Is that it?”

He grinned. “Scream. Say anything you want.”

You gaped at him. “Right here?”

He nodded.

“In front of you?”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes widened. “Jeno, I can’t do that. Really, I—”

“Then think it, first,” he interrupted. “Just think what you haven’t been letting yourself think. Look at me and yell at me, but in your head. It’s easy. I do it all the time with my doctors.”

You raised an eyebrow. “With me?”

His expression turned soft. “Yes. But only sometimes. And it’s never your fault.”

He turned you to face him completely, took off his glasses and folded them in his hoodie’s front pocket. You winced.

“This is really awkward,” you confessed. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Trust me,” he urged, “it’s easy.”

So you let yourself think, let yourself fall into his eyes and shout and scream inside your head.

Jeno was right; it was frighteningly easy.

Because fuck Lee Jeno. Fuck him for leaving you this easily, fuck him for smiling like that when all you wanted to do was die. Fuck him for being so easy to fall in love with.

Jeno cocked an eyebrow. “Ready? I’m gonna go,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

(Never ready. Never will be.)

Then he grinned, and then, he turned, and then Lee Jeno screamed—raw and broken and hoarse and angry. He screamed at the sun and the moon and the stars and everything he should’ve been, but wouldn’t be. He screamed at you and his parents and the doctors, and the disease that was taking so much from him. He screamed at everything he’d never know, the firsts he’d never have, at the way his heart was hurting. He screamed at the way he’d been pretending for so long, that he was okay with this, that he was okay with dying, because he wasn’t, and you knew it. You always knew, when it came to Jeno.

“Fuck fate!” he yelled, and despite the anger in his voice, he was still smiling that same stupid, dumb smile that you loved more than anything, his eyes curving into crescents, and he looked free. “Fuck you! Fuck cancer!”

There were tears streaming down your cheeks, and a painful smile on your face, and you realized that you didn’t want Jeno to leave, that you would do anything to make him stay, that this was real and Jeno was dying and he would be dead, and suddenly you hated that you couldn’t do anything to stop him.

“Stay,” you choked out. “Don’t die, Jeno. Please don’t go.”

His eyes turned soft; a hand came to rest against your cheek.

“I would if I could,” he said quietly. “But life doesn’t work that way, sadly.”

“Fuck life,” you snapped. “Fuck God, I don’t care. You have to stay, please. Please, please—just try.”

(Don’t go awfully. Stay happily, leave in peace.)

Try? It was a stupid question; Jeno didn’t want to die. Jeno wasn’t trying to die. He was eighteen years old and all he wanted to do was live, but you found yourself pleading with him, as if he had a choice, as if he was making the conscious decision to leave you here alone, grieving, crying.

“Okay,” he murmured, and tugged you closer, your chin nestling into the crook of his neck. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you, thank you, I love you, I really, really love you.”

So many words, so much meaning, but neither of you could acknowledge the weight they held. Where could they go? They would leave with Jeno’s soul.

“I know,” he muttered, his words muffled as you held him tighter, tighter, tighter. “I love you too. So much.”

He held you until the sun died, the last rays of golden and burgundy light washing over the faded splintering wood of Toska Bridge, your bodies pressed together and hearts beating as one, beating against its cage of desperation and rage and despair and it couldn’t escape, trapped by fate and its devastating inevitability, slowly then slower, and slowed.

The thing about letting yourself lose a friend is that you grieve before they’re even gone. It’s different and separate from the distinct devastation of a sudden death.

When someone close to you dies, it feels like you’ve just been run over by a truck, like every bone in your body has been painfully snapped simultaneously. It’s quick, and then it’s mostly over, with only a lasting ache residing in your bones when the incident ends and the recovery inevitably starts.

But for Jeno, there was no sudden death or loss, and it was less like being hit by a truck than being slowly crushed by some invisible force, your very being cracking under the immense pressure. You were grieving even before the event itself, breaking before the impact, slowly, and painfully. How were you supposed to recover, when it seemed like the pain would never end? How could you recover when you felt like you’d never stop breaking?

“You know, I pretend it’s alright, but I don’t really feel like that.”

“I know, Jeno.”

“It’s not alright.”

“I don’t wanna die. I want to live, so bad.”

 “I know, Jeno.”

 “I want you to live, too. So bad.”

You got the call on a Saturday, at four in the afternoon, just as the sun began to die, the golden light washing over your room.

And something felt off, something felt wrong and twisted, and your chest hurt so, so bad, and you didn’t want to know why.

How do people let their world change, just like that? How do they listen? How do they find the courage to face the expected unexpected?

How did you manage to pick up the phone?

It was Jeno’s older brother, someone you’d talked to only a handful of times, and yet whose contact was already in your phone.

(Hello?)

 (I’m so sorry.)

 (It happened so fast.)

 (We couldn’t contact you.)

 (I’m so sorry.)

 (He’s gone.)

 Your world stopped turning.

You were on your knees. Your knuckles were turning white, fingers clenched around your phone.

Something came from your throat, something like a whimper or a scream, a cry, you couldn’t tell.

A breath of relief.

You let go, and the pressure dissipated, and your bones broke (all at once, all over), and the crushing weight disappeared, and all you were left with was raw, awful pain.

It felt so good to let go, to scream, raw and angry, and Jeno was so right when he said it felt amazing, because you couldn’t stop, even when your parents dashed into your room and saw you crying on the floor and held you so, so tight. Where else was the pain supposed to go? All that pent up energy—it demanded a reaction.

But it hurt so bad.

  A month later, and Jeno’s bedroom was empty. There were boxes sitting outside the home he’d grown up in, laughed in, loved in, and a moving van in the driveway. You’d overheard his mother telling yours that she didn’t think she could bear it any longer—she kept seeing him everywhere she turned, filled with awful, wonderful memories everywhere she looked. She’d said, as you’d listened, that she kept remembering the two of you running down the halls with dirt on your hands and feet and messy smiles, the sound of childish laughter echoing through the home she’d raised and loved her children in, where she’d told them stories and tucked them in and watched them have so many firsts—watched them grow up, fall in love, make stories of their own.

She missed him so much, she’d said. So much she couldn’t breathe.

She needed to leave.

She kept apologizing, but you understood, even if it hurt. Even if you were the one stuck watching his window from across the street, waiting for a smile that would never come. (Not ever again. He’s dead.)

 Sometimes it didn’t feel real, and that was when it hurt the most, because you kept expecting him to pop up in places you’d least expect. Sometimes you found yourself walking to the music room at the end of the day to watch him practice, only to be met with an empty room as the last students filtered out, and then it was only you, and the old, ugly cello, sitting in the corner of the room.

You’d stand there for a bit, and watch, as the pale sun filtered through the skylight, lighting the dust into a pale fire as it floated around the room, but never past the stream of sunlight. Trapped.

 And it took too long for you to finally let go, to finally say goodbye. You hadn’t attended the funeral. You’d felt like you’d already mourned. You couldn’t do it again, not with all those people who you’d never met, who hadn’t been there and hadn’t known Jeno like you had. Renjun had cursed you out afterward, tears staining his cheeks as he pounded on your bedroom door and screamed at you for how selfish you were being, but you hadn’t cared.

It was so much harder than you’d thought it’d be.

It took a total of three months before you found the courage to face him. He seemed to almost glare at you, all shades of moss and grey, and all you could do was stand there, with wilting flowers in your shaking hands, and you felt so weak, and so ready to forgive.

His name was etched in strong block letters, his birthdate scratched below it, then everything he’d had the chance to be and never was.

(A son. A brother. A friend.)

He was so much more.

“Hey, Lee Jeno,” you began. “I have something to say, so you better listen, yeah?”

A sigh. A breath of relief.

It had taken so long to say goodbye.

(Goodbye.)

The stars are out, the sun has set, and the last streaks of dusk are fleeing from the sky. The air is still warm against your skin, the cool summer breeze ruffling through your hair, and when you turn your head, you see Jeno, and you see him already looking at you with the stars in his eyes. A smile lingers on his lips, and then he’s pulling away from you, and the warmth leaves your skin as he stands, as his fingers untangle themselves from yours.

The stars are out, the sun has set, and Jeno is supposed to leave, and he is.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” you say. “You promised, Lee Jeno.”

It’s okay—you know this had to happen. (It hurts, but you think you’re finally ready.)

He gives you a sad smile, then leans down, cups your face in his warm, soft hands, fingers callused from years of creating melodies that will no longer play, and kisses you.

When he pulls away, he wipes a tear from your cheek, then straightens, and walks away.

He throws one last look at you before he disappears into the stars, before you lose your grasp on him, forever.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

 “I lied.”

[raisinbran79]

((( Please give feedback!! I'm a sad writer))))

The day came late for Jack Brown. The afternoon sunlight shot through his broken blinds pulling him from a restless slumber. Sometimes before he opens his eyes, he’ll forget where he is. He’ll forget his dread of embracing the day. 

Jack opens his eyes and in a haze looks towards his smartphone. His skeletal fingers were shaking and the camera app on his phone flashed a reflection at him. Jack brown could be mistaken for a corpse if it wasn’t for the bright, ice blue of his eyes. He cringed at his reflection and went to check the time.

Sitting up in his single bed, his lungs felt full. He pushes out a strangled cough. Jack wiped his face and saw the black sludge that had leaked out of his lungs. Jack felt a lump in his stomach whenever he thought about his grandmother dying of lung cancer. even though his grandmother had passed from lung cancer when he was 21, hence the reason he is now the sole resident of her rent-controlled apartment. Jack remembered the day he had found her in the kitchen slumped over a bowl of cheerios with her oxygen tank screaming for more air, as her lungs probably did. 

Jack looks around her apartment: It was a small place stacked with his grandmother's old paperba and erotica novels, her moth-eaten old furniture, and  pictures of her friends and family that he had never met. Evidence of a long and happy life should have been a comfort to Jack. He wanted to erase all the evidence of her. Make this his real home, yet he couldn’t bear to do it. These photographs lined every wall, even in the bedroom. He felt like a stranger here, like he didn’t belong. Like everywhere else, even in his own home, he had strangers staring at him. The constant loneliness of a million eyes glaring was now the only comfort he held inside of himself. 

Jack pulled himself out of bed, groaning with each pop in his bones. He picked up his uniform from the floor, A grey pinstripe button-up with SECURITY detailed on the front pocket and black slacks. In the pocket were a crushed pack of cigarettes and his father's red pocket knife, a reminder of the man he would never be. Beside him on the nightside table was a photo of Jack and his father. When his father was younger you could’ve sworn he was a movie star. Long blonde hair, and not even one crooked tooth. Jack pushed a hand through his dusty blond hair and ran his tongue over his yellowing teeth. He cleared his throat again and placed a cigarette in his mouth. One of his darker fantasies involved him waking up one morning and coughing so hard bits of his lung would spill out of his mouth, at least he wouldn’t have to go to work.

Jack made his way to the kitchen and opened up his fridge. The only thing cast in the fluorescent light was a dilapidated birthday cake. It had been Jack's birthday less than a week ago. Some of his coworkers had got together and purchased it for him. It was a vanilla cake ( he hated vannile) with pink icing. On the top of the cake, in red swirly lettering was “ Happy Birthday Jake!”  The mistake did not bother Jack, the subject of birthday cake had always been a sore spot anyways. 

His father Bo Brown, smelled like cheap barley and stale tobacco. A cigar always seemed to be perched in between his index and pointed finger. Jack, had always thought the way his mama, Eleanor Brown, was different and more delicate. As if in between those red painted fingernails she was holding a daisy. It was Jack’s sixth birthday and Eleanor had baked him a vanilla birthday cake with cream cheese frosting. His father, always being one for celebration, was very very drunk. What Jack didn’t understand was that drunkenness was the closest thing to goodness his father was capable of. The alcohol disillusioned his ambitions making him an unpredictable and stupid man.  

In the doorway of the kitchen his mother stood with the birthday cake. She was a round woman. 

Her eyes were like two round blue and green globes like the one in his classroom, and her cheeks round summer peaches. Jack did not receive his mother’s body type, instead he was cold and angular like his father. Eleanor stood with the cake on a platter and six red candles illuminating her smile in a heavenly halo. Bo sat at the kitchen table tapping his yellowed fingernails on the table and sipping his drink. The ice cubes clinked as he clapped his son on the back and yelled drunkenly 

“ Well, Ellie, our sons are finally a man!” he shouted, “ and a man deserves a man’s gift.” 

From his work jeans Jack’s father brandished a black box. When he opened it, a tiny red pocket layed there peacefully. 

“ Now Bo, don’t you think he’s a little.. Young” his mother laughed sheepishly, her eyes brandishing terror. 

“ Now Bo, don’t you think he’s a little young” Bo mocked as pure rage flashed across his face and he flicked open the knife and pointed it towards his wife. 

“ Don’t you ever tell a man what to do and what not to do with his son!” he drove the knife down into the table. 

The room was so quiet  Jack could hear the blood pumping in his father's veins. His father’s face erupted into a tepid smile as he handed Jack the knife

“ I’m only joking Jackie” his father clapped him on the back once again. 

Jack was too afraid to cry. However as his mother placed the birthday cake in front of him, he saw tears in her eyes. 

“ Happy birthday Jack” 

He was too young to feel this old, but even the twenty-minute walk to the bus stop winded him. He passed young millennials with their smartphones and turtlenecks. He didn’t know who he was a part of, 23 is an ever confusing age anyways. If Jack had it his way he’d be seventy already so there would be an excuse to be so miserable. 

Jack sat toward the back of the bus as he always did. In front of him was a younger couple. The girl had short bleached hair and was wearing an oversize jean jacket with the words `` Reject society!” painted in bright red. The boy had a shaved head and was wearing a green knit sweater. His large combat boots were sticking in the aisle. As the bus started to roll the girl pulled out a cell phone and a set of headphones. She put one earbud in his ear and one in hers. The boy smiled at her, and she giggled. She set her head on his shoulder and even though Jack couldn’t see her, he knew she was smiling. He felt strange looking at them. As if he was eavesdropping on their little world. Jack was jealous of them. He was jealous he didn’t have someone to rest their head on his shoulder. To hold hands as they walked home together. To smoke cigarettes on his balcony with. Jack wasn’t unattractive. It was that Jack was terrified of people. Isolation, Jack realized, brings a lot of things. Jack thought he would forget how to speak. That his words would shoot up in his throat, and stop just behind his teeth and he`d choke on them. That his tongue would never move again and turn to cement, that`d he'd die struggling for breath. Even if those things happen .. then he wouldn’t mind too much. 

The bus slowed to a stop and the young, in-love couple scurried off. Once again as Jack stood up, his bones popped and cracked. He exited the bus, gently apologizing as he bumped into people. They said nothing back. 

Most people were exiting the museum as he hurried up the steps. Jack loved how it looked. It was reminiscent of the old homes in the south. Tall white, marble pillars in front of the doors, large glass doors with gold trimming that never chipped. Long flower boxes on each of the windows that always held cigarette butts and grocery store flowers. The building itself held an undeniable glow to anyone that stood in its shadow. 

As he entered the building one of the curators, Quinn, gave him a polite smile. Quinn was tall with dark, dark brown hair. For what Jack knew, she was nice and very very smart. Quinn always knew when to speak and she was the best with guided tours. Jack thought maybe he could ask her out for a drink one night. Maybe they'd start talking about art, and the music they liked and what he wanted in ten years. Maybe she would kiss Jack outside of his favourite Chinese restaurant and maybe Jack would meet her parents. If not that, maybe they could just be friends. 

Jack didn't have time for all that, if Jack had the right words, maybe. 

He set his bags down on the front desk and clocked in at the computer. Jack sat down and stared at the setting sun through the long windows. It was just about time to lock the door. He crossed the large entrance hall, his work boots echoing through the museum. Jack pulled his ring of keys from his belt when all of sudden Quinn was barreling up the stars. Beige high heels in hand. Jack opened up the door as she reached the top.

" Jack!" She shouted, " You're a damn lifesaver!" 

" Is everything okay?" He said 

" Yes, yes I just forgot my wallet" 

Jack let her in, and she pushed past him walking toward the front desk. 

" It's my anniversary tonight, and I didn’t want to be without" she chuckled 

" Congratulations Quinn" he smiled 

" Thank you, thank you. Were going to his favourite Chinese place on the upper side -"

" The Golden Castle?" Jack asked 

" Yes! That's the one?" She asked 

There was a silent pause as Quinn dug through the drawers at the front desk. 

" Is it only you here tonight?" She asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. 

" Always is" 

Quinn lifted her wallet into the air triumphantly. Smiling beautifully. 

`` Well, Jack if you get too bored, there's a new exhibit just down the hall..``

She came close to him, too close. Jack tried not to be weird. But He saw her crystalline eyes reflect from the dying sunset and the small scar above her top lip. She had freckles too, hundreds of them dotted all across her face. When she smiled, her top teeth were crooked, it made her face look kind and warm. Jack looked up from her lips. 

`` Technically it’s a preservation piece, I haven’t even seen it. But, since you’re all alone” she said “ Maybe you could take a peak and tell me all about it.” 

Her body pressed against his as she leaned into his ear 

“Just don't let anyone find out, it`ll be our little secret. Okay?”

Jack beamed at her request . He put two fingers to his lips and then into the air.

“I promise, Scouts honour,” Jack said with fake confidence

There it was again, that little laugh, and that gorgeous smile. 

“ Have a good night Jack” she moved past him and out the door. She fluttered down the stairs quickly. 

“Hey, Quinn!” Jack called after her horsley 

“ Yea?!” Quinn called back from down the stairs 

“ Try the eggrolls” 

Quinn looked up at him, smiled once again and slipped into a taxi. Jack was still smiling when he closed and locked the door. He turned away from the door, and finally his cheeks fell. His face burned from smiling so hard. 

“Jesus Jack,” he thought to himself, ``Try the egg rolls?`

The night rolled on as it always does, slow and with no mercy. Jack had his feet up on the front desk and was scrolling through the 10 cameras set up on an old computer monitor. He moved his hand onto the mouse and clicked through the cameras carelessly. 

Jack knew that there was no way that anyone could get in or out of this place. His job was merely peace of mind to the faceless millionaire that owned this place. While he had never met his boss, he always pictured him as an overweight man in a tight navy suit. Usually smoking a thick cigar and having a large shiny bald head. Kind of like the old mob bosses in his father’s favourite movies. 

 All of a sudden, there was a slight itching behind his ear. He dragged his dirty fingernails behind his ear, trying to soothe the itch. The more he scratched however the more that erupted into a burning hot inflammation. He whipped his head around and smacked his ear violently. 

What the fuck, What the fuck, what the fuck? Jack screamed to himself in his head.  

Without warning, a tiny black beetle fell from Jack’s ear and into the palm of his hand. Its exoskeleton was hard and smooth. It’s mouth curled into two lewdly sharp pincers, 

Jack’s heart leapt into his throat and he threw the beetle on the ground. It scurried toward the far end of the hallway. Panting, Jack watched as it’s tiny body disappeared into the shadows. 

It was then that he noticed that there was a long shadow running up the hallway walls. Had he forgotten to turn off a light? No way Jack thought to himself. All the lights in the museum only used two switches. One for one-half of the museums’ lights, the hallway on his left, and another the hallway on his right. But one ominous light burned through the darkness. Jack stood and went to investigate. Just as he stood from his chair, the burning in his ear ceased. 

Once again his boots echoed in the empty hallways. Clump..clump….clump.

The source of the light was nowhere to be seen. Yet long shadows still ran up and down the walls. Jack turned a corner and finally there it was. The light was shining behind a large security door labelled " The Art of curse and passion DO NOT OPEN" 

This was the new exhibit Quinn had told him to venture into. Jack had made it a habit to stick to the rules. Even though Jack didn't move an inch, the door seemed to be getting closer to him with every beat of his heart. 

Lub dub….lub dub...lub dub

He outstretched his palm now drenched in sweat and grasped the polished door handle. 

When he pushed open the door, a blinding white light pierced into his eyes. Jack screamed at the pain and tried to cover his eyes but it seemed as if his hands had melted to his sides. 

In a matter of seconds, his eyes adjusted to the light.

The room was empty except for one painting. It was in a midsize thin brown frame. The painting depicted a woman. Her face was cold each angle smoother than the next. The woman's hair was deep deep obsidian and her eyes crystal white, almost as translucent as glass. A melody of flowers pooled around her, encircling her in the richest colours of flaming crimson Rose's, Bold purple violets and sapphire forget me not. She was the most beautiful woman, Jack had ever seen and once again without moving a muscle, the painting seemed to move closer to him with each beat of his heart. 

His hand hovered to her face, begging to touch her skin. Jack's body burned for her, itching like a junkie wanting a fix he yearned for her more than anything he's ever wanted. 

A soft voice came slithered over Jack's neck and into his ears 

Touch She begged Touch me 

With no second thought, Jack was removed and there only lay his desire. His long skinny finger brushed what he hoped to be canvas but instead was supple flash. Jack jumped back his heart hammering in his chest, closing his eyes tight praying hoping that this would all be a dream. He dug his fingernails deep into his palms praying that maybe that would wake him. 

Yet when he opened his eyes, the painting had gotten closer and closer. The fear left his body as a receding tide. He was left face to face with Her. Jack’s breath left him in fleeting gasps. Her face moved, looking through him and at him all the same.  Her blushing rose lips grazed him. Jack melted at the feeling of her tongue grazing his bottom lip.

She tasted like springtime. Fresh warmth after months of bitter cold and for the first moment, Jack's world was no longer colour blind. He was locked into her. 

Help me Jack her voice was smooth and kind,  I know, I know how lonely you are. How your heartaches as mine does. How the emptiness fills you like desire, I feel it too Jack. Please, please let me out. 

I can’t Jack thought to himself I’ll lose my job 

Please Jack, she begged, you hate it here, you despise this place. 

From the bottom corner of the painting, a milky white hand appeared. It outstretched and wrapped itself around Jack’s cheek. Digging her palm into his jagged face, seemingly touching him from the inside. 

I’ll save you Jack if you save me first. 

There was no more Jack, only the paint that had seeped from her lips into him. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his father's pocket knife, assuming his destiny and releasing Her from her cage. 

Jack rolled her up and cradled her in his arms. He felt her warmth radiate all over him. 

Jack left the room, now dark as if the lights had never been on. His boots clomped once again, faster as he sped towards the door. Jack saw that hours had passed by him while he was in the room ; dawn illuminated the museum. To the front doors in which he quickly unlocked and threw open. The screech of the security alarms rang in his ears and he pumped his legs, not worried about turning off the alarm, not worried about anything. Jack's lungs felt as if they were made of lead and his blood pure and burning adrenaline

 Feeling the bright morning dew slick on his skin and the light finally breaking through his fog. 

Faster Jack, they can’t catch us 

Jack ran so fast that the gods would never touch him. His long legs burned and begged him to slow down but Jack had what he never did, purpose and love. 

It was too early for passersby to see him. The occasional morning jogger passed judgement at his uniform. They assumed he was just another nighttime degenerate crawling into the day. 

He ran even faster. 

Jack entered his apartment. The silence was crowded by the blood pounding thick in his ears. Jack stood for a moment. Revealing how the faces in all of his grandmothers' photographs seemed to smile at him now. 

Unravel me Jack she said 

All at once Jack rushed toward his kitchen table, swiping the ashtrays and stacks of paperbacks onto the ground. He opened her onto the table and was once again swept by her burning beauty. 

He pulled up a chair and sat there at his table staring intently at the painting. Memorizing each curve, each line of her face. Tears burned at his eyes, and he wept onto her. 

It’s okay Jack, You’ll never have to feel that way again, I just need one more thing

Anything, absolutely anything Jack smiled though his gut-wrenching sobs. 

You must devour me

The life he lived before her was black and grey and now he breathed technicolour.

Dust settled on the table around him and on his fingertips. Spider’s and dust mites scurried up and down his furniture and the carpet. Large moths had fluttered onto my clothing, slowly but surely tearing away my cotton uniform. Leaving me a bare corpse dissolving into dust.  I was disappearing as if his body was becoming weaker, and weaker with each passing breath. 

You must devour me. Her voice echoed through his brain, and Jack became aware of what he must do. 

Jack moved his skeletal frame towards his fridge. His stomach was caved inward, and his ribs jutted out at all angles. Jack’s stick-like fingers grasped the door and opened it. The cartilage in his knuckles cracking like ice on a pond. 

In his fridge, behind the cake, there was a glass cup of cream and a mason jar of honey. Jack used his failing strength to set the cream and the honey on the table. He slumped down once again. 

Jack lowered his head to her face one last time.  Pressing his forehead to hers and his chapped lips to hers. All he tasted was canvas. 

Please don’t leave me he thought, I love you

Jack, don’t you see, now I’ll always be apart of you

You’ll never be alone again 

He stuck his fingers into the jar of honey and slathered her face encompassing her in sweetness. Delicately he ripped a piece of her and stuffed it past his lips. Dissolving the canvas into a soft pulp. His back molars did not dare tear the paper to bits. His stomach screamed for fullness. The ball of dissolving canvas lodged itself below his Adam's apple. Jack poured the cream down his throat and colour entered him. With ravenous lust , piece after piece Jack began to gorge himself stuffing every last piece inside him. He ate around her face, devouring the prismatic flowers first. Slathering each piece in gobs of honey and gulping down cream. Sputtering whiteness from his full mouth. Jack paused when it came to her waxy and pointed face. He ripped larger, and larger portions from her face until the only pieces left were her eyes. He held the last pieces of her in his hands and dipped her in the honey. He swallowed so much of her she gripped his throat. The yellow liquid dripped down his chin and onto his wrists, the long self inflicted scars of his youth were bathed in sweetness. 

Never again Jack promised himself,

Never again the woman's voice promised him. 

If alone was a feeling, loneliness was a hole in the bottom of his stomach an ache in his tooth. An itch in the back of your eye. I had always had this hole, this ache and this itch. 

As she entered me, as her color filled me….

Jack brown was never lonely again. 

….

[noorsworld-daily]

SILENT CONFESSIONS

Their marriage was fixed on 26th December 2018. “Meera Upadhyay weds Dhairya Oberoi”, read their wedding invitations. The wedding celebrations were to start on 31st December and the wedding was scheduled for 6th January. A week long wedding celebration. After all the Oberois were the biggest family in all of New Delhi. Dhairya was known as the steel prince in the social circle and the media, his dad was the steel king. And the prince was getting married, the celebrations had to be royal. The news was sudden, and many hearts were broken. Hearts of young girls and their mother’s. All anyone could talk about was the prince and his unknown bride, who by the way remained unknown for exactly two hours and thirteen minutes. That’s how long it took for the Delhi high society social circle to find her on Instagram, and from there they reached her blog and her work site. Within a few hours she was the hot topic of the town. Everyone and anyone had her resume rolling off their tongues.

Meera Upadhyay was an investigative journalist with an online news website. She had an undergraduate degree in English Literature from St. Stephan’s College in Delhi and went on to pursue her master’s degree in journalism from Stanford. She returned to India three years ago and was already the top investigative journalist at her paper. She was one to look out for. She lived in Chanakyapuri with her parents. Her father was an IPS Officer, who had only three more years of service left. Her mother was a doctor at AIIMS, Delhi as well as Head of Department of Dermatology and Venereology. She had a younger brother working as an investment banker in New York. She was a simple girl, always focused and determined. A natural beauty, she was completely innocent of it and it made her all the more charming. If you asked her to describe herself, she would use only two words – ‘ambivert and sapiosexual’.

Dhairya Oberoi was the CEO of Oberoi Steel, the biggest steel company in all of Asia. He too, like Meera, was a graduate of St. Stephan’s, who then gained his masters’ degree in business from Harvard. His dream was always to become a writer, that is why he studied English literature at Stephan’s. His grandfather was the one who introduced him to the world of stories for the first time. He was the one who read him a story every night before bed, who recognized his talent to touch millions of hearts with words and gave him his first notebook. But during Dhairya’s final year, his grandfather died after a long battle with cancer. It felt like he was all alone in the world suddenly. That was the last time he wrote anything.

Every Friday night Meera went to Bangla Sahib Gurudwara with her parents to offer her prayers. It was on one of these nights that Dhairya’s parents and grandmother decided to go too. Dhairya’s grandmother was the one who noticed Meera sitting next to her inside the Gurudwara. She was wearing a pastel pink suit and her head was covered with the dupatta. She looked like a divine soul. It was as if God had planned this chance meeting. For his grandmother, she was God sent. Meera was busy talking to someone when they approached her parents. They showed their interest in her and her parents were elated. Everyone knew the Oberois and it was not hidden that they were very respectful and kind people. Her father had colleagues who could vouch for their characters, and this was enough for him to invite them over for dinner the next night.

Meera was told to come home early that day. When asked, her mother only said that important guests were coming. She knew this was about her marriage, so she didn’t ask more. Honestly, she couldn’t care less. She was not against the institution of marriage, or the arranged marriage for that matter. She knew her parents would have to find a match for her. She had never had a boyfriend. At this point she was just indifferent to the idea of marriage. If she and her parents liked the boy, she would think about it, otherwise she would not waste a single brain cell over the situation.

Dhairya knew that he had to get married one day. He was a single child and sole heir to the empire; he too needed an heir. He had few flings in the past, but they were all casual. He had never met anyone who could string the cords of his heart. So, he had put the responsibility of finding the bride upon the shoulders of his family. If they liked the girl, then he would marry her.

When they reached her house and he saw the nameplate “Upadhyay”, only one name came to his mind – Noorie. The image of her reciting Annabel Lee to her friends is still clear in his head, as though it was yesterday. And the sound of her voice, as it starts quivering towards the end of the poem is so soft as though she was reciting it in his ear at this moment. But this could not be her.

Introductions were made, greetings were exchanged, everyone settled down and the drinks were served. After a few minutes Meera was summoned into the living room. She slowly walked in and greeted everyone one by one. First the grandmother, then the mother. She recognized her immediately and the father as well. But how could this be. It was impossible. Slowly she moved her gaze to the guy sitting with her dad. Her eyes widened with shock. She could not believe this, Dhairya Oberoi was the guy who had come to meet her as a potential prospect for marriage. It was Dhairya, from college.

Dhairya saw her the moment she entered the room. He was shocked as well, but quickly contained his surprised expression. This whole situation was absolutely bizarre. He could not believe that it was Noorie standing in front of him. She looked as if she recognized him, but that must be because of the media and his business, not because she remembered him from college. Why would she? They had only interacted once during a college fest when she had come up to him and praised his poem. That compliment had made his day. But for her it didn’t mean anything.

He had no idea who she was, and she was standing in front of him, gaping at him with open mouth. This was her first thought when she came back to her senses. She quickly composed herself and greeted him. They took their seats and the night went on. Their parents talked about some general topics, and then they were sent away to talk to each other. They were extremely awkward. Both had buried feelings for each other but didn’t know what was going on in the other person’s mind. They talked briefly about their education and jobs and hobbies. St. Stephan’s came up, but they just said that they don’t remember the other one. None of them wanted to seem desperate. Over coffee, after dinner that night, their marriage was fixed, and a date was fixed over brunch the next day at the Oberoi house.

The date was fixed for one month later. Everyone became busy with the preparations. The invites were finalized and sent out. Only a week was left for the big day. It was a mad house at both places. The guests had arrived, and the wedding festivities were to commence tomorrow, and Meera had the most horrible cold.

She was miserable when she had a cold. And to top it all her house was a complete bazaar. And her room looked as if Karan Johar had puked all over it. Different colored shimmering dresses were lying all over the bed and the chairs. Her table was covered in jewelry and makeup. There was no place to put her feet, the ground was swarmed with various footwear. Every other second some female would enter her room to see the wedding outfits and how she was doing. Asking her whether she was nervous, excited, senselessly teasing her about her wedding night. And the worst part was that she had to smile and entertain them. There was no escape. Every corner of the house was crawling with relatives. All she wanted was somequiet, a cup of hot coffee, brownie with it and to put her head down. But apparently it was too much to ask for. Each person was doing their best to make her wedding day the happiest day of her life, but no one was concerned about how the bride was doing.

Dhairya had been restless this whole while. He had no idea what he would do once he was married to the woman, who he was pretty sure, was the love of his life. It would have been so much easier if she was a complete stranger, but no, she had to be that one person for whom he had unsaid feelings for years, buried deep in his heart. He had never told anyone about Meera. Not even his best friend.

His chain of thought was broken by the ring of his phone. Veer was calling, Meera's brother.

“Hey Veer.”

“Hi Dhairya, listen I was calling to ask you what time does your cousin’s flight land? I need to tell the driver.”

“Uh…. Ten-thirty tonight.”

“Okay.”

“How’s it going there? It’s a fish market down here.”

“Same here man. Oh! To top all of that, your bride is down with a horrible cold. And she is MISERABLE. She can’t drive herself to a café and I don’t have the time. No driver is available either. And no one is letting her rest, everyone wants a piece of the bride. That has driven her over the edge. I’ll see if she can get some quiet time tonight, but I highly doubt it since there’s a pooja.”

“Oh….That’s too bad. Uh… Veer do you mind if I drive her to the café?”

“Be my guest, actually if you could just ask mom once. But I don’t think she’ll have a problem. She thinks you both need to spend some time together.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Dhairya called his mother-in-law and she was more than delighted. He reached her house within ten minutes. Her mom was going to inform Meera when she was distracted by someoneelse. Hence, she had no idea that Dhairya was coming to take her out for coffee.

When he reached he was escorted to her room. It was a complete mess. There was no place on her bed to put her head down. The door to the terrace was open. Meera was sitting on a swing reading her copy of Call Me By Your Name. It had always been one of her favourites. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she was wearing an oversized baby pink sweater and black yoga pants. Her cheeks and nose were red due to the cold. She would again and again blow her nose in the tissues kept next to her, and bring her hand between her eyes, hold her nose and exclaim, “Oh God!” This had been her habit since college.

She looked so beautiful when she was hassled. He stood in the doorway for good five minutes when Meera noticed him. She jumped off the swing, but her head started spinning because of the rush. She was about to fall back when Dhairya quickly rushed to her side and put his arms around her. Their faces were only a few centimetres away from each other. They were lost in each other’s eyes, when they heard someone coming into the room. He quickly let her go and they both regained their composure. Although Meera still looked flustered.

“I’ve come to take you out for coffee. You could use some time away from all this.”

“Okay…. Let me just change.”

“Actually I was thinking that I’ll go get the coffee and we could just sit in the car and talk.”

“ I would love that actually.”

They drove to a café nearby and after getting coffee and brownies, he drove them to a quiet spot. It was a beautiful sunny day. They settled down in the car, and Dhairya rolled Meera’s seat back so that she could be more comfortable. She was finally beginning to relax. Her headache was going away and the brownies tasted delicious.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you for the coffee.”

“No problem.”

“Dhairya… I-uh-I lied to you, about not remembering you. I remember you from college. You once dropped some sheets while walking and I ran after you to return them, but you had already gotten into your car and driven off. I decided to return them the next day. You had written a poem on it, and it was the most beautiful poem I have ever read.”

Dhairya couldn’t believe his ears. He genuinely believed that she didn’t remember him. And she had read his poem! He didn’t even know which one was it, if it was even good.

“But I don’t remember you returning those papers.”

“Oh no. I gave them to my friend. She returned them to you.”

“Why not you?”

Meera looked away, “I-I don’t know… I was probably busy.”

“I lied too. I remember you. And the way you would recite Annabel Lee was absolutely beautiful.”

“God! You’ve heard me recite it?” She covered her face with her hands. She was so embarrassed. This is what he remembered about her?

“I loved it, and the way your voice would start quivering towards the end, it was like you could feel his pain. Honestly I have never heard anything more beautiful.” Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Meera looked away blushing.

“How come we never talked during college?” Dhairya asked.

“We had no common friends and you never came up to me." Even though I wished for it every single day.

“And I was not going to walk up to a senior whom I did not know.”

“Well, I have never been good with girls, so…”

“ We both were hopeless.”

“You could say that,” they both burst out laughing.

“How’s work?” Dhairya asked her after a few minutes.

“It’s going good. I’m currently working on a human trafficking scandal.”

“Wow… Sounds dangerous.”

“It is a little bit, but I take precautions. And I know the officers working on the case through dad. But to be honest, I’m a complete pain in their asses.”

“You do look stubborn.”

“Dhairya I want to continue with my work after marriage. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Why would you even say that? I know how much you love you work. I’ve read all your articles. But I personally feel that you should publish your short stories.”

“Huh?”

“ I read your blog and follow you on Tumblr.”

“You do? Do you like it?”

“It’s the best part of my day Meera.”

“Since when have you been reading my blog?”

“Since college. My friend sent me one of your short stories, which was sent to him by his girlfriend. I really liked it so I went on your blog to read more and that lead me to your Tumblr account. I swear Meera I was hooked from the first word.”

Meera blushed and looked outside the window. After a few seconds she said, “ I’m glad you liked them. I would love to read some of your written material. The one I read in college – the one you dropped – was mesmerizing.” The smile from Dhairya’s face vanished and his face now had a sad expression. Meera realized that she had said something wrong.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I didn’t mean to upset or offend you. I thought you wouldn’t mind sharing your work. I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t, it’s just that I don’t write anymore. I haven’t written anything since graduation.”

“ But why? You were so good. Everyone in college thought that you would end up winning the Pulitzer.”

“My baba thought so too. But he died before I could even graduate. He never got to see me up there giving the speech. After his death I just gave up. He was the only one who supported my writing. My parents were happy that I had decided to join the business, I let it stay that way.”

Meera put her hand over Dhairya’s and gave it a gentle squeeze, “It’s never too late to write.”

Dhairya looked up into her eyes and something between them changed at that moment. He looked down at her lips, and this made her nervous. She started biting her lip and this threw him over the edge. He slowly leaned in towards her, as she did the same. Their lips were just a few centimetres apart, when Meera’s phone went off. This made her jump and she hit her head on the window. They both burst out laughing. Dhairya rubbed her head, “Are you fine?”

“Yeah,” she replied trying to control her laugh. It was one of Meera’s servants reminding her to come home as the pooja was about to begin.

“We should head back. It’s almost time for today’s pooja,” Meera told him.

“Yes! Let’s go.”

They drove in silence with a few occasional comments. The only thing on their minds right now was that almost kiss. And both of them were silently cursing that phone call. Meera had a smile on her face when they reached her house.

“Why are you smiling?”

Oh! I was just thinking about that kiss we almost had and how I’ve been imagining it since I saw you in college for the first time. This is what Meera wanted kto say, but instead she said, “Nothing I just remembered something funny, not important.”

She got out of the car and Dhairya came from the other side, “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not!”

“Are you sure you weren’t thinking about something else, like the kiss we almost had.”

“You’re mad!” Meera said this and she started walking towards her house. It was dark now and the numerous trees around her house hid her and Dhairya from everyone in the house. As Meera opened the main gate of her house, Dhairya came from behind, locked the gate again, and quickly pulled her behind a tree. He pushed her towards the bark and slowly leaned into her. He gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the lips and pulled back. Meera pulled him in again and they kissed. This time it was more passionate and fierce. They let go of each other to catch their breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long now,” Dhairya said panting.

“I should go in now,” she said blushing.

He pulled her and gave her one final kiss and she ran inside the house. They both could not believe their fate. They had been crazy about each other all through college, they hadn’t forgotten each other, and now they were getting married. It won’t be a stretch to say that they had fallen in love long before today. They had fallen in love through stolen glances, through stalking each other on social media. They had fallen in love while spending those countless nights thinking about each other. They were two people who had fallen in love years ago and were now getting married, to stay together forever.

[lilcutieana]

Oblivion ( Hybrid Min Yoongi)

                                             CHAPTER   ONE

Word Count: 8.8k

Warning:  triggering, mentions of abuse, blood and drugs. 

Rating: 18+

Pairing: hybrid Yoongi x hybrid reader

Genre: Angst/ drama/ smut (happy ending)

Synapse:  Min Yoongi, a beautiful and rare snow leopard hybrid, struggling to survive under the care of a ruthless owner who sells him for underground fights and sex. In a world where mistreating hybrids is a natural and where hybrids have been seen as worse than animals and treated beneath humans, would he make it out alive?

Story inspiration: Red Raven 

This story is a part of the same AU as her Namjoon hybrid fic (Unspoken ) and continues with Yoongi's story.

also, I’d love to thank @barbika1508 , she’s been a huge help in the editing process along with Raven.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5 (final)

Breathing heavy and slow, the pain making my body numb to everything else around me, hands trembling on their hold to the seat of the chair, my extended claws keeping me rooted. Trying my hardest to remain conscious in the backstage room, my body was swaying and screaming for some sort of relief while my owner gleefully counted the money I earned for tonight besides me by the table with a cancer stick in the mouth.

The ice pack glued to my neck did nothing to help alleviate the pain or cool me down, sweat still running throughout my body in rivulets, the threadbare clothes sticking to my body like a second skin. I just needed a shower, some food, painkillers and perhaps a soft bed, all of which were luxury to me, a temporary heaven found only in a hospital. But what I had here, right at this moment, was a heady cocktail of piss, blood and cheap booze scents surrounding me.

With a twitching nose that hurt with every movement, the animal part of me wanted to puke my guts out, yet conversely, the human in me knew I couldn't afford that. It was a battle within that I was slowly growing tired of and just wanted out of this place, somehow, anyhow. I had to keep whatever food I got, down, knowing I only had a handful to survive off of, despite the amount of money I earned. My body was slowly losing its energy, eyes losing its focus and ears ringing, blinking my eyes off the sweat drops that rolled into them, I tried focusing on my surroundings once again.

The whitewashed walls were now chipping every which way, almost making it look like an intricate map of an exotic place. Map to hell I bet. Snickering at my own thoughts, I noticed the many blood splatters here and there and some questionable bodily fluids or whatever those stains were. The underground was truly a sketchy place indeed. All kinds of dealings went under the table. The drinks served here made many people laugh boisterously, and the rest to start showing off how evil they were than the other, like a  sick game, showcasing who tops the rest. Sickening humans. Filthy, every single one of them.

The more time passed, the harder it became to ignore the searing pain raising from my ribs and spreading towards my back and thighs. Biting my cheeks, almost making it bleed, I held back from moaning out loud or show signs of weakness. I would never give my owner have the pleasure, of me begging for things or showing how he has broken me. He knew I was well past broken, I knew that too, but I still held onto the sliver of pride I had left. The only thin thread that helped me survive. I had a purpose, and I won't give up till I fulfilled it.

Perhaps it was a muscle strain, the pain being too much to bear, or some tearing of ligaments like last time. Maybe. At least I hoped it was one of the two. I was no specialist to diagnose exactly what was wrong with me, no matter how much I experienced these things before. A bruised body was no good for pets like me, who sold their bodies for quick money. Good thing, I made enough money in the past week to afford spray makeup and cover up the discolored skin. I just had to hold my tongue to not show any discomfort that wasn't caused by whoever paid for my services. Humans were irrationally possessive over things that weren't theirs, to begin with. God forbid I had some broken or shattered bones, I'd be counted useless and thrown away. Maybe that was for the better? Who knows? But what if things got worse than it is now?

My sight was almost gone, eyes blinking closed in exhaustion and maybe, malnutrition too. Everything looked hazy, the energy pills I consumed for the fight wearing off, leaving my head spinning after the twelve rounds of a fight that I went through tonight. The wish to pass out any given time was monumental, yet, the adrenaline pumping through my veins kept me awake. Awake enough to run at any given chance, but the painful truth was, I couldn't. Where would I run to? I was bound by law, to forever be the slave that owed my life to my owner for keeping me safe.

Safe

Scoffing at the term, I spat out the blood that had accumulated in my mouth, from the cut on my tongue and cheek. Almost instantly an answering clap resounded in my ears, making me cringe. While my sight was dwindling, my ears were extra sensitive just as my tail was, that was currently taped to my back for protection underneath the thin shirt that I wore and was itching to be let out of its misery.

It took me a few moments to register, that was no clap, I was being slapped across the face since it had been now turned to the left with the force of the heavy blow delivered by my now glaring owner. But the pain I was already in, had made me numb to the new blow on my left cheek, making me believe for a split second it might have been a clap. What a fool I am. It was nothing compared to what I'm used to.

Smiling deliriously, I winked at him, earning myself a glare. "Watch yourself, Yoongi. You got me ten thousand bucks, but it's not enough to earn my affection." Sneering at me he returned the brown packet into his faux leather jacket with zebra prints and kicked my chair, a sign for me to get up and follow him exactly five steps behind. He was a journalist, my not so kind owner, working the usual nine to five job for a meager salary at the 'The True Telegraph'. Always have the best of stories but never the best of articles to go with it. And every time he failed in his job only to be one up by his other college, all his pent-up frustrations and anger was poured on me, followed by a night full of cheap drinks and squandering money like a trickling waterfall.

My confident, cocky attitude was a front I used when venturing out with him. It was all a mask, with intricate designs, crafted specially to show the world I was strong, yet a very obedient hybrid. Little did they know, I was not strong at all, in any way or form. I’d crumble to the ground if I didn’t have something holding me upright.

"Want me to get some medication for your hybrid, sir? He is the starfighter in our club after all." Drawled the old man from the counter with yellowing teeth and a rotten egg smell about his person making my nose crinkle in disgust.

“Is it free of charges?” Taken aback the man sighed and shook his head. It's not that we were poor, I earned enough money to pay for ten more people to live comfortably. But my owner splurged all that money into gambling. “Sorry, mate, it's not on me to give things away for free, I’m just a worker here.”

"Just as I thought!” With a dry sarcastic chuckle that grated on my ears, he continued with a sneer,”Never mind, pal, I'll take him to the shelter to get checked. Got a couple of friends who'd love to look after this kitty." Being put on the spot like that, I squared my shoulders and glared back at them, yet I knew I was expected to reply and let out a soft non-committal 'yes'. Satisfied, my owner cuffed my hands and tied the leather and spike choker with a leash snug around my throat.

'A filthy cat like you, deserves no place beside me, never forget who you are'

Those words once spoken, will never leave my mind. Making me unconsciously follow behind him at every step of the way.

This isn't the life you call safe. I'm anything but 'safe'. From being passed around as an escort with added 'bonus' to posing lewdly in front of a camera, taping myself get off for the sick pleasures of human females, sometimes, even males and the occasional underground fighting - this - was my life now. This has been my life ever since I was deemed a hybrid ready to be released to the world from the lab, as a rare breed of snow leopard. Vicious when needed but docile otherwise. A good breed to mate with. I was often called into the lab to help procreate new hybrids.

                   ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was so cold even my breath was turning foggy in front of me, nose feeling frosted over, probably pink by now and lungs stinging with every breath that I took. I was shivering in this place, with only darkness surrounding me, for as far as my vision went, even the moon and stars had given up on me. Straightening my ears atop my head, twisting every direction, I tried hard to listen to any semblance of sounds and was met with absolute stillness. No wind, no birds, no insects. The surface I was standing on, was hurting my feet, probably with a temperature beyond the freezing point.

Where was this place?

Slowly, I could water trickling, slowly and calmly, and with fascination saw a huge bluefish glowing a neon blue with pale blue stripes and dark black spots…whale maybe? Swim beneath my feet. I was standing on a frozen ocean? Or was this a lake?

Bracing myself on my haunches, I proceeded to jump on my feet, to try and get rid of the cold floor I was standing on, but just one jump, and it had started to crack with a loud crunch. Startled, I stepped back into a pair of warm hands that braced my fall into the never-ending abyss below. Straightening out, I tried to thank whoever saved my fall, but I couldn't move anymore. I couldn't see who those hands belonged to. I couldn’t even move my head...or body. Even my tail wouldn't swing like I needed it to. I was stuck. On this frozen lake. My breathing picked up, freezing my heart and my hair stood up with gooseflesh on my skin. Just then, the hands moved from my shoulder blades to my neck and something clicked around it. No! I hate collars!

'Don't you like it?' A new voice crooned by my ears, making my tail bristle in fear. Who? Who's there? Show yourself! Glancing down at my hands, they wouldn't move, they're small again. I'm small again? Why? What's happening? A cacophony of laughter raised all around me. They echoed off of the empty space. No, no.

'It's a very special collar, made just for creatures like you.' No. No, please. I don't like collars. I don't want them around me. Take it off. Take it off of me. I couldn't speak. My lips were sealed shut with muffled screams coming out. I couldn't scream out. What is happening to me? I wanted so bad to raise my hands and take it off myself but they won’t move. My hands won’t listen to me.

'I'll know everything there is to know, about you, at all times. Look, right here, it has an alarm system that activates whenever someone tries to change or remove it. You won't do that me, will you, kitty?' A new voice. Another pair of hands, feminine now. They were moving across my naked body. I don't like this touch. I'm older now. Don't touch me there. It hurts. I don't like it. Stop touching me. A mouth started sucking marks on my thighs, slowly moving there. I wanted to squirm away, only to be held back my own paralyzed body. Why won’t it listen to me? Laughing manically the voices crowded in on me.

'My sweet, lovely kitty, come to daddy.' No! Not again. A new voice echoed from my far right. I can’t take anymore. How many more people?  I don't want to be punished. It's not my fault. Please believe me. I didn't do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Just then another pair of hands joined my body, rough, calloused and old, wrinkly. Yanking my tail, it started inserting something inside of me. Something large. It hurts. It hurts so much. I’m too small. Stop! Please. Please let me go. No. Not there. Please not there....

'Oh? You're hard now baby? Let daddy take real good care, of you'

No! I'll do anything, but not that, Not that, I don't want that. My body can't take it no more. Stop playing with me. I'm not a toy! It's like back in my training days. I’m an adult again. My arms, feet look like a grown man. Still, this hold over my body won’t go. The hands won’t leave me.

'For a filthy kitty, you come so beautifully, let's see if more people will love how much you crave a cock, inside you, on you, you just love it, don’t you? Even if yours doesn’t work' not like this, I don't like it. Save me, someone, please. Save me...Save me... sa-save m-me…

'Aw, don't cry kitty. You look so pretty with smiles. Cry only when asked to. Cry when begging me for more. Be a good kitty, for daddy, won't you?' Yes. Only smiles. I'll be good. Don't hurt me anymore. Panting heavily, I had given up. There is no one to save me. No one who cares. Nobody wants me.

'If you're good, we'll be together forever, just you and me.' Together. Only smiles. I'm not a bad kitty. I'll be good, don't ever hurt me.

'I'll treasure you the most. You're mine'

Okay. Together. Forever. Smiles and happiness. You’ll stay with me, won’t you?

'Mine'

Only yours. You’re a beautiful precious kitty, Yoongi.

 Just then, every pair of hands left me. No! Come back. You promised to stay! My body thrummed with renewed energy, I could feel my body now. It was slowly beginning to thaw from the frozen temperature. Blood rushing back into my veins, my muscles were tingling. Slowly I tried moving my head. I could move again? Come back! Lifting my feet, I stumbled and fell. Getting up again, I ran across the ice in front of me, falling on my ass once again. The ice was slippery.

"Come back!" I could speak again! My mouth felt so dry. My voice echoed back to me, but I could hear nobody else. The ice started crunching underneath me. Panicked, I started crawling backward with rounded eyes, bated breath and tears streaming down my face in rivulets. Lightning struck right behind me, making me jump and hide my face on the ground just as the whole place lit up. Looking up, I saw a million red glowing eyes staring me with crazed smiles on their faces. No, they were cameras. Was I being filmed?

Thunder boomed in the distance soon after leading me to sit on the surface, covering my ears and clutching my head shaking it with a plethora of repeated ‘no’s’. Just then the cracking and groaning of the ice increased and it was rapidly coming towards me. I had nothing to live for anymore. Come take me, drown me, make me a part of your vast abyss, never to be found again. Peace will welcome me finally.

Soon enough the ground beneath my feet opened wide, making me fall inside with a huge splash. It was too cold, freezing me in place. I couldn't even feel any part of my body except stinging needles pricking every surface of my skin. Naked. Frozen. Suspended in water.

I opened my eyes to see just that. I was small again. Naked, with tubes running along my body and needles attached everywhere. I was back in a glass cage of the lab to become half a leopard. Just beyond the glass cage were various scenes flashing by. Humans in various white coats moving around, dipping things into my tank and shouting out commands. Vials and beakers of neon liquids passed around and a table full of weird glass bottles, set up in an equally weird fashion. Further beyond, were huge tanks of other animals, suspended in a ruby red liquid of sorts. All inside the ocean with fish and octopus swimming around. People being carried in and out, people screaming and banging on my glass cage. Closing my eyes, I wished death to come sooner and cradle me in its arms. Put me to sleep for an eternity with a single chaste kiss.

 With a sharp inhale, I woke with a start, jerking my eyes open and blinking furiously. Rubbing my eyes to get rid of the sticky lashes, I winced when my bruised knuckles made contact with skin. It hurt like a bitch. Sniffing with my nose up in the air, the soft fragrance of freesia, calmed my senses and brought forth a feeling of nostalgia from within. Rubbing my cheeks on the soft,fluffy pillow, I tried my best to get rid of the nasty feeling the nightmare left me with. My mum used to smell like that. It was a nightmare I would rather not live again. All of my childhood memories mixed into one.

Twitching my ears, I tried listening to any sounds. A few moments later, I could faintly make out a feminine voice humming something soothing? Perhaps a lullaby, from far away, the only sound of a living being I could tell. Soon enough my other senses caught up. Heart thumping like crazy, room spinning and my head pounding in immense pain, I’m quite positively certain I was hung-over. Didn’t I get any medicine after all? Where... was I? The baby pink and white ceiling was unfamiliar and swishing my tail around, I could tell, so was the bed underneath me. Feeling clammy and sweaty, I looked around the pillows for the remote and turned on the AC at the lowest setting, sighing in relief once it started cooling me down.

Clutching my head in my hands, I turned sideways and curled in on myself in a fetal position, wrapping my tail around my waist, immediately straightening out with a soft whimper. The pain and memories flashing through my body and mind making me cringe. The fights, the lashing right outside the bar for making people notice I was in pain, then going to the bar limping right behind my owner. Me, trying to drink the pain away and secretly dabbing some alcohol over my cuts, while my owner kept talking to some rich guys. After that? I don't quite recall what happened after ... I tried hard to think, when and how, I got here, only for my headache to worsen.

The pitter-patter of footsteps outside, made my spine straighten in fear of the unknown, despite the calming freesia scented room. It did absolutely nothing to help placate the adrenaline pumping through my veins, preparing myself for a knife yielding crazy cat lady coming at me. Telling myself that it's just my imagination, these things don’t happen in real life, that I'm a professional fighter that knows some good dirty tricks, who was well capable of saving himself if he so wished. I had no bond with my owner, thus making me my own person. All I needed was to be lawfully free. If only I got rid of the collar. Yet this new person, whose home I was in? I had no clue what to expect of them.

The golden doorknob turning made me stiffen up and forget my own whirlwind of random thoughts. I let out a ferocious growl warning whoever was trying to enter the room. Accompanied by a bristled tail, pointed ears and claws digging into the mattress, where I was sitting in a crouch, I’m sure the sight they came to wasn’t the soft leopard kitty they expected. Hissing at the new intruder, I was ready to attack her, whoever she may be. Nobody brings me to a bedroom without ill intentions. A room with everything pastel pink, ivory white, peach, and gold. The furniture was kept to a bare minimum, all wooden with pale pink and peach covers and cushions. The decor consisted of a few floral paintings in golden frames, a couple fake flower vases and walls were all half white from the top that faded into a pale pink at the bottom. This overly girly room was suffocating me. Even the floor was made out of rose-colored tiles. Whoever designed it was an asshole.

I decided to give her a once-over, just to be safe. It would be rude of me to treat them any differently than how I expect to be treated. Like a human first. A good human. She had dainty naked feet, toes wiggling with soft pink polish on the nails, bound at the left ankle, a blinking black metal cuff indicating she was not free, just a slave like me. Maybe the owner wanted to make me feel some sort of camaraderie? With a human? Never. Bad move. Her legs were beautiful, long and wait-- were those bruises on her knees? Looking back closely, I saw other faint yellowish marks on her otherwise porcelain skin. So she was healing. From what? And a tail swishing nervously behind her knees. Wait, wait---- tail? She's not... human? Rage began to stir in my blood. How could they give her so much luxury, yet still hurt her?

She had short cotton shorts meant as pajamas. Growling at her indecent choice of clothing, in front of a stranger like me, I looked into her eyes, but she had them focused on the tray she was carrying. With a tea set and some pancakes shaking like a maple leaf about to fall from the tree in autumn winds. She was scared. Of course, she’d be you dumbass! You totally scared her to bits. I was an alpha male. I had prominent pheromones. Just like her scent. It was highly potent. I judged her too soon. But it never hurts to be cautious.

So, it wasn't me growling, the smell of the fresh pancakes laden with syrup and butter stacked together indicated, it was my stomach. I felt my face become hotter at the realization and her blue eyes met mine across the room, with mirth shining in them. At least one of us is amused. Her eyes. I was transfixed at their blue serene oceanic pupils. They looked so familiar and welcoming. I, however, was ravenous, as declared by my dying whale of a stomach. And wet. I did have a bad dream, and no, it wasn't just my sweat.

Looking at her head for more signs as to what breed she was, I noticed a pair of ears drawn low over her head. Maybe in submission? But her small button nose, upturned eyes, and head tilt declared loud and clear, she was some sort of cat hybrid that smelled distinctly of freesia and something...musky. Sniffing her scent once again by raising my head, instantly calmed my senses but also made me feel something else entirely. A stirring in my groin that was unwelcome. I just couldn't pinpoint what this foreign feeling was, I couldn't compare to anything at all. I felt my vision sharpen and focus on her lithe, petite form and shiver, a very pleasant shiver shot down my spine making my skin tingle and a delicious hum thrum through my veins.

Standing before me with a breakfast tray in hand and a smile that trembled on her lips. Scared downcast eyes, grey ears flat on her head and a fluffy grey tail with black stripes swishing slowly behind her. Was she a tabby? What was I, a snow leopard, doing here? I would completely ruin her if I were to mate with her. Which assuming was the reason why I was here? Why else a snow leopard, known for breeding, would be in an empty house with a cat hybrid?

Unless... I was supposed to be her bodyguard? Because of my fighting skills. But I doubted she’d be given that sort of luxury. I needed to know what I was doing here, and why. But first, I'd make the most of what I could get from her. It would do me no good to show how scared and lost I felt right now. If only I could manage to keep her intimated, it would be in my best interest.

“Where's the bathroom?" Startled at my normal voice, she raised her head to reveal too wide for her head eyes that looked at me with a small trembling mouth, the stillness of the room interrupted with a single gulp that echoed across the room, she squeaked out, "I'll show you"

Scanning her face, she looked frightened. Pupils dilated and legs shaking. Good. She won't try anything with me. I got up with renewed confidence. This was my territory, and she had nothing on me. Scratching my neck, I lifted my arms in a stretch, realizing with a delay, I had no collar on. What? So I could run away anywhere, at any given time? There must be a catch, and I need her to confirm just that. Passing by her, I was astonished to find out the real reason behind her musky scent. She was nearing her heat and was turned on by me, not frightened. She was holding herself back from jumping my bones. If that's what she wanted. That's what she will get.

"You saved me from two guys, last night, at the bar, I mean. They were trying to molest me in front of the washroom and then you got injured in your head trying to intervene. I...” taking a deep shaky breath and sniffing her nose, she continued at my confused expression, “I never got a chance to apologize or thank you for intervening." Came her soft voice, purring slightly while looking back at me with sincere rounded eyes. She was enchanting, and she knew it.

So I saved her, huh? Explains why and where I met her. Doesn't explain me being here though. She was being smart with her choice of words. Two could play this game. I won't clue her in that I have no memory. Though I'm uncertain about her story too.

"It's nothing. Anyone decent would show the same courtesy, I'm sure." With a nonchalant shrug, I moved past her into the door she had opened for me. Pointedly looking at my groin, she gestured her hands vaguely. "There's the shower and I'll get you a robe. My master smells awful so I will pass on giving you his clothing. We should talk more once you're done." She was cute when flustered. “You’re rambling. It’s kind of cute.” Shit, I didn’t mean for it to come out loud. Cringing at my own fault, I looked up at her to see she was smiling faintly with a pretty peach colored blush on her cheeks. Huffing and patting her cheeks, she smiled big at me.

“Wash mine. And reheat the pancakes. It might take a while for me.” I ordered her sternly, expecting her to leave, but when she didn’t, I understood why. She was stubborn. Rolling my eyes, I added as an afterthought, “Please”. With a blinding white smile, she twirled around and sashayed out the door with a gentle click, leaving me on my own once again, taking away the delightful freesia scent with her. What’s with all the smiling? I’m no kid that needs to be placated with large smiles and warm food. Or…was I?

This wasn't just a bath, it was a freaking room. The left side was all pristine white tiled walls, with a wooden cabinet at knee level and a round mirror attached on top of it. A wash basin at the right of the cabinet and a couple of towels and bottles kept on it. A simple white flower vase and some candles were kept on the surface to not make it look as cold and empty as it felt. Well, it was doing a shit job in making it warm and homey. To further right, the room had slowly merged into a wooden colored theme. The flooring and walls to ceiling it was all browns and beige. The room ended with a huge walk-in shower, right beside it was a bath and a comod, on opposite sides of the shower stall, which was a mini room in on itself.

Finally, alone, I started looking for all the bath products I could find. The cabinet seemed like my only option, and opening it I wasn't even surprised at the assorted collection inside. There were a few shampoos and conditioners for hybrids, some bath salts, lush bombs, cleansers, exfo-li- whatever's and tons of other colorful bottles. She was one spoilt hybrid. I wonder if that was all to gain her forgiveness. Her bruises told a different kind of story to me. Closing my eyes I chose a random bottle, passion flower shampoo. Will do. Then picked up a random body wash and off I went.

I had to check this house for cameras and sound recorders later. Something seemed terribly wrong about me being here, free, with another hybrid. She was tempting, beautiful, seemed smart. But not smart enough to live by herself. I wondered when our owners would be back.

Did…did Namjoon finally manage to free me? I do vaguely remember seeing him inside the bar, wearing a fedora and some silk shirt, looking absolutely ravishing with an equally contrasting dimpled smile that spoke of complete innocence whenever revealed, even to me. I had a basic aversion towards men, being treated as I was since teenage, I just naturally hated looking at men sexually. Yet, there was something about Namjoon, something magnetic and I was not immune. Not completely.

With the shampoo and body wash in hand, I entered the shower cubicle opening the frosted glass door. Except for the door, the room had actual mosaic walls with pebbles on the flooring in muted browns and reds. There was a huge square cheese grater overhead, poking it, I think it was meant to be there. A screen of sorts to the right of me and various knobs and pipes running along what I assume is the shower, with those detachable ones. A place to sit opposite the shower, with a rectangular hole in the wall, perhaps to keep the bottles? I slid them in there anyway. Next to the sitting area, was a tilted handle? What's the point? To keep towels? It would slide off! Humans...

I stare down at the two handles and knobs in front of me with specific colors on them. Red and blue. Since I wasn't given a choice at my owner's place, quickly taking showers whenever i could with whatever knob worked at the time, cold or hot, never something in between, I was confused this time what to choose. Taking a leap of faith, that fires are usually reds and ice is blue, I turned them together. Immediately the screen panel seemed to be calling my name - well figuratively. It was only beeping for me to choose something. I approached it tentatively, with slow steps, scared it would raise an alarm, but also excited at the aspect. Let's push all the fucking buttons, and hope the room doesn't explode. Hey, not my fault nobody explained. Shit..... Was she perhaps waiting here to explain things to me?

The panel was touchscreen. That made things easier. The first button showed typical few playlists named with emotions- sad, angry, hurt, happy, instruments, horny- wow she sure knew what music to play during what. An organized person, I liked it. Wait- why do I care if she’s organized or not. Not my business! Choosing the instruments playlist, I was washed with a serene tune of harp playing a beautiful song. Shower settings were next. Rainfall? Body massage? Showers did that? Choosing rainfall and neon lights- I saw the cheese grater from above actually spouting water like rain. This was so cool! And unnecessary, but I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. The whole place, even the water turned a pretty blue. Stepping in, I decided, I wanted this for myself. One day.

Taking a big dollop of shampoo on my left Palm, I started massaging my head. Slowly detangling my hair and reveling in the amazing aroma of passion flower, relaxing my body and tail swishing about in glee. Just as I had started enjoying the process by scratching behind the ear, my hands jerked back in immense pain from behind my head. Feeling over it with gentle fingers, I realized with a start, she wasn't lying. I had actually bumped my head and now a big lump had formed over it. Clearly, I must have passed out last night after hitting my head, since I wasn't really a big drinker to start with.

Humming softly to myself, a song that I had heard at the bar last night, I started washing, mindful of the many injuries littering my body. Soon I smelled the freesia scent before I heard her approaching me. A series of knocks announcing her presence. I could see her silhouette walking through the door to the mirrored counter and then with a soft huff she kept a huge basket full of things down and sat on the countertop, cutely swinging her legs back and forth.

"Would you mind if I took care of your washing and bruises. I noticed a lot last night and figured it would hurt to bend at awkward angles and get to every part of your body, including the tail." She asked with a hesitant voice like she was prepared for a lashing. Taking pity on her I chose to ease her. If I wanted to take advantage of her, somehow, I had to make her comfortable first. "Why? Can't wait to see me naked?" She laughed out softly and it sounded like tiny bells tinkering in the wind. Good, I didn’t scare her away. I needed her to trust me first. Though, if she saw me as her savior, it shouldn’t be a hard task to do.

"Well of course. You're attractive and I don't see why not." I bet she was grinning wildly from outside the curtain, or maybe, blushing a beautiful pink, after speaking her thoughts out loud. I had to see for myself. Never had I met such a daring girl who despite being scared, still wanted to play with the big cats? I admired her for it. She was incredible and so very foolish.

Opening the door, I raised my brows at her indecent ogling. She sure was checking every part of my body out, in her eyes, I saw no aversion, only admiration. It did well to boost my already huge ego. “I can smell that off you in waves, kitten. Come on in, I could use the help.” Eyes rounded and jaw slacked, it seemed she forgot I was a hybrid too, with heightened senses. She looked at me perplexed, “You need to eat as soon as you’re out and then take some painkillers and antibiotics. I’ll try my best to patch you up.” Picking up what I assumed to be a washcloth, she stripped down right there into her white and red striped underwear and got in the shower with me.

“I’ll do that." Nodding at her, I watched her silently close the door then trapped her to it, with both hands beside her head, her back against my chest. I could feel her heart beating faster than a racehorse. Her scent becomes muskier, and thicker, "You know, It’s kind of awkward me being the only one naked.” I chuckled by her ear, reveling in the Goosebumps that raised on her skin, littering tiny kisses on her shoulder, then resting my chin on it. Tilting her head towards me, her lips so close to mine, she looked straight into my eyes, for a few moments, everything seemed to still, our souls connecting. Then, shaking her head, getting out of whatever spell she was in, she stood straighter and proceeded to take a generous amount of body wash on the washcloth and walking behind me, started with gently scrubbing behind my neck and slowly moved towards my tail. “I know it’s awkward, but trust me, its best this way around.”

Her being almost naked and so close to me, made me see all her bruises up close, and I was not happy about them. I’m used to seeing hybrids all around me, and in worse condition, but something about her brave yet gentle nature, that contrasted with each other, made me want to protect her. Keep her to myself. I had bred with humans and hybrids alike but never came across one I genuinely cared for, or wanted anything more than a sopping cunt to shove my cock in, then get the money I was being paid. I needed, I craved a warm body. I detested the cold of the nights, of being alone in this world. I had to have somebody telling me they wanted me. Me, who was broken, me, who had no value, me, who didn’t have looks, and me, who wasn’t talented in anything. I needed to know I was wanted, I was needed, even if for a fleeting moment. And if I did well in bed, be it, man or woman, they always praised me, told me how good I was, and wanted more. That was twisted, and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do more to fill this gaping hole in my heart.

But there was something distinctly calming about her, that made me want to hide her from the world, keep her for myself. To feel more humane, to feel more connected to the animal in me and to feel loved, cared for. Despite my rudeness, she was willing to show compassion towards me. I was willing to do anything for her, even if I didn’t have the luxury for to make wishes. One day, I’ll repay her, anyway I can. Make sure she’s happy, even if it's only a little happiness, I’ll make that happen.

Her touch made my muscles loosen and I was back in the lab again, with my mother cleaning me one last time before letting me be experimented on. A sharp tug at the base of my tail shook me from my memories and with a grateful smile, I kissed her in one fell swoop. At first, she was startled, but then slowly relaxed into my arms and let me explore her mouth as I wished, with slow torturous strokes that coaxed out the most delicious of moans out of her. Separating from her with a tiny nip at the corner of the mouth, I looked at her fondly, the both of us panting heavily, for now, her pupils dilated, cheeks flushed a healthy red and skin glowing like never before. She was mine, and now she even had my scent on her. I couldn't be more proud.

No. This wasn't what's supposed to happen. What was I thinking? I'm not drunk anymore. I should act rationally and not let my other head do all the thinking for me. I'm not a horndog, it's time I stopped acting like one. But that was hard, her pheromones were affecting me, she, herself, as a person was affecting me. I wanted her and knowing she wanted me back was making it almost impossible to give her up. She was right to assume being naked in front of me would be dangerous. But it was her body that wanted mine, a stronger cat, at his prime, however, did she, want me? Is that why she distanced herself. Is she having second thoughts? Is that it? Wouldn't be the first time someone's rejected me. But it hurts.

"Hey, come back. Don't over think anything. I'm okay. You'll be okay." Her words angered me even more, at this point, I didn't even care if she could read my expression or smell it in my scent. It was growing foul with all the anger and frustration piling up. Trying not to blow up at her, it's not her fault, I fisted my hands and gritted my teeth. The claws had elongated, digging into my skin, reminding me of the here and now, to maintain composure. Somehow, she noticed, she saw my struggle, and like a foolish little girl, instead of leaving me alone like she should, she slipped her fingers over my fists making them loosen and slowly held onto them, entwining our digits like lovers, that we never will be.

She lifted herself on her tiptoes and pecked my lips tentatively. Seeing my eyes darken with lust, then slowly kissed me this time, erasing all self-doubts I had. It was slow, gentle coaxing of her lips on mine. Like a soft caress of flower petals over my lips. I wanted more, so much more, but let her have this soft, delicate moment of sweetness and innocence. "I want you, Yoongi. But not now, you're injured and I know, it's not pleasant when injured. I don’t want you to go through that. Not now, not ever, not with me. We need to talk first too."

She was right. We had a lot to talk about. Nodding my consent, I let her slowly turn me towards the shower, with her arms around my neck and bodies meshed together, we walked backward, with her guiding me staples by step. I wonder when I started trusting her. I never lost my cool, my control like this. We stood under the rain like drops of water washing away the fatigue, hurt and doubts. Though this nagging feeling remained buried in mind. Why was I acting like a child when it comes to her?

Gazing quietly into each other's eyes, with a hint of a smile on our lips, something connected, and it made our hearts beat as one. I loved this new feeling, whatever it was, and by her sweeter scent could tell she thought so too. I didn't want to leave, I wished this little serene bubble of safety and calmness lasted forever. Me, cocooned in her arms, just like now. I would die a happy man and have no regrets.

No! I couldn't think like that. Why was my mind plagued with these thoughts? They belonged to happily mates, not stubborn, broken strangers like her and me.

Mates.

We were mates. That's what the feeling all this time was. The leopard and its kitty. But it's impossible. How could a snow leopard have a cat for a mate? We were completely different species, what kind of joke was fate trying to play on me? Horrified, I separated from her with a faint push. Choking back a sob, I yanked at my hair in frustration. Why?!?

Stumbling backward, I held onto the slippery tiles behind and looked at her helplessly. She was equally panicked, her eyes glazed over in astonishment, lips open halfway and throat bobbing in a stunned expression. Was she scared of me now? Does she see how dirty and worthless I am as her mate? Where do we go here from now? We could never be together. Two hybrids cannot survive without an owner. I needed to calm down and think things straight. We weren't even free to think of spending our lives together. Who knew how much longer I had till the truth of my being here was revealed.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the shower panel and walked straight towards it. Confused with multiple options, I just punched the wall next to it, wincing at my still tender knuckles from last night. They were bruised as is, they'll be swollen and bleeding anytime now. I'm useless. I can't even operate a shower, how am I to care for a mate. Yanking open the shower door, I stepped outside and added as an afterthought, hoping she won't reject me. Then I truly won't have anything to live for anymore. "I need help with first aid. Please" my voice cracked midway, revealing how vulnerable I was. Fuck it. I'm done pretending. I just can't anymore. I'm so tired of everything and the hangover isn't helping either.

Shutting the door after her, I sat at the counter and waited for her to come. Getting a towel from top of the counter, I wrapped it around my head and taking the second one, I wrapped it around my fluffy tail. I'll have to groom that later to not look like cotton candy. Soon, the shower stopped and she came out with the bottles in hand. "Let's get you patched up then."

           ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The pancakes were soft, delicate and had just the right amount of sugar. I hated too much sugar in anything. She didn't overdo them, yet they had a crunchy edge that I loved to nibble on, the butter and syrup just the right amount making even the most boring of breakfast item seem heavenly. Or was it because my mate had prepared it thinking of me?Eating out of fancy China plates and silverware was a good distraction from the chaos in my mind. With a clear head , it was better to think straight and have rational thoughts. Everything made sense now. Why I clinged to her scent, why everything about her seemed so perfect and why I wanted to own her, protect her, be protected by her. 

Even her absence was making me antsy. With a smirk, I forcibly stopped my feet from shaking by keeping a hand over it. I was a mess, a complete, idiotic chaotic mess, and she was the calmness I needed to put my mind at ease. She didn't complete me, no. I was a whole complete person. But she did made it better. That's what having a mate is like, a pair of socks. A single one is still a whole sock, but a pair, would serve the purpose better, look better, feel better. You could mismatch them with others, but nothing feels as right as having them paired with the one they were meant to be paired with. She's the one meant just for me, as I am with her. There's no better option, there's no better match, we belong together. But-- what if luck goes against us? What if, it's all just a beautiful lie? Does she even know what a mate is? Will be ever be together past this day? How much longer do I have with her?

 Banging my head on the heavy and too-big-for-two table surface, I rested my head sideways. The fresh fruits chopped in shapes of stars and flowers , kept neatly in a crystal bowl directly in my line of sight. As healthy as her breakfast choice was, I was still very much a carnivore and craving some meat, even a simple bacon would do. Or some beef jerky. She was a cat, surely she had meat cravings from time to time. I had let my nose guide me here, after she so very gently, handled all of my cuts and bruises. Every time I winced in pain, she kissed me, to the point I winced purposely to get kisses from her. We both knew I was just pretending at this point but didn't care anyway. The painkillers she made eat had started doing their job, they were numbing the pain and making me drowsy, but the hunger within had yet to be sated. She must have some kind of secret meat stash... 

But what if.... everything worked out? Hadn't I suffered enough as is? Wasn't it time for my life to show some kindness? 

Getting up with renewed energy, I went looking for meat and fish among the huge assortment of cupboards in the modular kitchen that was too fancy for even the president to own. In contrast to the floor upstairs in pinks and peaches, that was solely meant for my girl, this floor was rather darker. With muted browns, midnight blues and black, the whole floor seemed rather a boudoir, magnificent even. The ceiling was ivory white, the walls a dark shade of blue and the flooring was black tiles. I loved the color theme, it suited me, had some warmth to it too. Every furniture was wooden and screamed royalty. Various portraits of a man in his late twenties, early teens, as a kid were portrayed with a girl that looked strikingly similar to my girl minus the hybrid features. As the kid grew older, perhaps in the recent few years, that girl seemed replaced by the hybrid, I now knew.

My girl? Since when was she mine? I had yet to claim her, or she--- had yet to accept me as her mate. I was getting ahead of myself. I should let her do the explaining. Though I think, this story is something not meant to be heard this early in the morning. I didn't even know her name! Yet somehow she knew mine. It was a scary thought but somehow, deep within, I wasn't intimated by it the slightest.

The kitchen was daunting. The first time I came here, I was guided by my nose sniffing out the pancakes and focused on scarfing it down. But now that the initial hunger was taken care of, I craved some milk and good old meat. The various black cupboards and drawers spread across the walls made my task hard, but I instead focused on the huge double door fridge that could easily for four of me. There had to be something I could microwave. Opening the fridge I was shocked to see some cartons of milk, a few veggies, some eggs, ham, cheese, and bottles and cans full of liquor. Shaking my head in dismay, I noted I'd have to have her buy grocery. And soon.

Picking up the ham, I checked if it was okay for me to cook it. If she, a hybrid can cook for me, surely I can too. The stove top had a weird way to operate it. Rotating the knobs on the front, I saw it light up on its own. Back in my temporary home, we had to use a matchstick, it was not the safest but the only way I knew how. This was far easier. I was startled by the whirring of an engine above. Sniffing at it I noticed it was some kind of automated chimney. Well, that's convenient. At least I won't be sprayed by water at the slightest amount of smoke. Finding the pan hanging from a hook in the opposite wall, I chopped up some ham slices with a random knife and set it to fry. Since I didn't know how to control heat yet, it was at highest possible setting and was cooking way faster than I was used to.

Feeling something slowly move alongside my waist, I was startled and jumped a feet in air, hurting my forehead in the process. Turning around with the knife in hand, I was ready to attack whoever when suddenly I registered the same vanilla scent from the body wash I used and a distinct freesia undertone followed by the telltale giggling that I've come to adore in the span of an hour of knowing her. Keeping the knife away from the two of us, I pouted at her. "Hey, don't laugh at me. I was busy cooking for us both." Still snickering behind her hand, she tilted sideways to see the flame and immediately turned it the opposite way and with a few clicking sounds, it was at medium setting. Huh. So that's how it's done. "You were about to burn them to a char, Yoongi"

"It's unfair how you know my name and I don't even know yours" Smiling brightly, she winked at me saucily. "Wouldn't you like to know" and twirled around to the cupboards on her right and took out two glasses, keeping then on a coaster, she then speed walked to the fridge to take out the milk carton and pour it in our glasses and handed one to me. "To finding the best mate"

She really was something. Shaking my head, I played along and clinked our glasses together. "To the most beautiful mate". Seeing her blush so deeply, and knowing I was the reason behind it, made my chest swell with pride. She had accepted me! 

“So, about that talk......” 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5 (final)

[thatlongspringnight]

Sunkissed (Ieyasu/MC SMUT)

A happy, belated birthday to my partner in crime @tinydadkanetsugu I hope this gets you feeling some type of way girl <3 You’re one of my fave people, a sweetheart, a candy, a good onion ring. 

I love you very much. 

Also going to tag:  @han-pan  @pseudofaux and @shikikira 

Its going under the cut because its porn with barely any plot. 

Stay tuned for their fun day at the lake ;3

“Sunscreen?”

“Obviously.” My favorite blond shot me a deadpan stare. “Do you think I’d risk skin cancer just to fulfill your ridiculous fantasy?”

“The lake isn’t a ridiculous fantasy, after all we’re here, so it must be real.” I ignored his dig, humming as I continued to pack for the afternoon.

Sunscreen. Sunglasses. Picnic basket of snacks. Bug spray. A book to read, just in case. I paused, double checking to make sure Ieyasu had brought his. “Are you sure you don’t want to swim?”

“Positive.” For all that he said he didn’t want to swim, it sure looked like he was wearing swim trunks.

“But-“

“Should I do a microbial study of the water? I brought everything I need.” I shook my head vigorously in opposition.

“No, no, you know I think I could do without that. Let me live in blissful ignorance.”

“Isn’t that all you ever do?” Even as he said that he tugged the basket from my hand, taking the weight from my arms. “Let’s go before it gets so hot you don’t even want to be outside.” I grinned, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Sounds perfect, ‘Yasu”

Sunkissed-

He was sunkissed.

I shook my head, tsking under my breath. No, he wasn’t sunkissed. He was sunburned, the soft red on his freckled shoulders and high on his cheeks a tell-tale sign that he had spent a little too much time out.

“Let me get you some aloe?” I offered, brushing the hair back from the nape of his neck.

“It doesn’t hurt.”  He looked away, a pout on his handsome features.

“But it will, yeah? Let me help.” I shuffled over the refrigerator, pulling out a sickly green bottle. Aloe.  :Just sit on the couch.”

“What good would that do? I’m disgusting thanks to our little escapade today.” I set the bottle back in the fridge, glancing up into the heavens for strength.

“Lets shower then?” I grinned, walking right past him. “Come with me or I’ll use up all the warm water. “

He grumbled, but the redness on his cheeks only darkened as he rose to his feet.

“So now that you’ve cooked me, you want to eat me too?” He muttered darkly against, making me yelp.

“i-Ieyasu!” I stammered, smacking his bare chest, he winced, an audible sound leaving his mouth. “Oh, Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Shit. Your sunburn.”

“It does hurt.” He finished, flatly. “I’m starting to think you did this on purpose.”

“I did not get you sunburned on purpose.” I lightly brushed against his heated skin, a sigh on my lips. “I forgot that you don’t tan.”

“Do I look like I tan?” He huffed eyes wandering as I stripped in the bathroom. “I have no interest in skin cancer or any more freckles than I have.” At that I paused, leaning up to nip lightly at the flesh just under his ear.

“I like that freckle.” I pressed another kiss, a soft brush, against his shoulder blade. “And all these too.”  His body was taunt under my mouth, a shiver tearing through him.

The sunburn must have made him more sensitive. I grinned, looking up at him from under my lashes. He was flushed now, no way it was just from the sunburn.

“Maybe I should run the cold water.” I teased, pulling away, only to have him yank me back, his mouth pressed hard to mine. His fingers threaded and tugged at my hair, drawing a soft moan from my mouth.

Another reason trips to the lake were needed. A place to get intimate with no work in the way.

I pulled away, suddenly feeling as hot as he looked.

“The shower.” Honestly, I was covered in lake water and he wasn’t much better. The faint tropical scent of sunscreen hung cloyingly in the air.

I was hot and sticky and wanted desperately for him to be naked.

I reached over, turning the shower on, jumping at the cold water. Just behind me I heard his swim trunks hit the ground

Sexy.

I wanted to laugh. It felt clandestine. Like we were at a summer camp and at any moment a counselor would appear and we’d be sent to the office.

Instead, Ieyasu reached forward, pressing his back against mine, pushing me under the water, which had stabilized to a nice and steamy warmth.

The glass door slid shut as I turned in his arms.

Now it was time for the fun.

I pushed him, till he was pressed against the cool tile behind him, I could see the goosebumps blossom on his skin as the stone pressed against his hot skin. He shifted his body, an unbidden noise leaving his mouth.

“So beautiful.” I breathed against his ear, one of my hands dropping from the wall behind him to trace chilly patterns into the expanse of his stomach, relishing the way his breath caught, the way he leaned closer. Reaching up, I grazed the skin of his nipple, pressing harder against the pebbled flesh. He outright gasped, a tremor running through him.

Jackpot.

One of my favorite quirks, an unexpected gem. His lips were on mine again, his hands pressing against my hips so hard I had a feeling he’d be leaving marks.

Well, he wouldn’t be the only one. I tweaked at his tender flesh, his lips falling from mine as he hissed, his head lolling back as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Does it hurt?”

“You’re an insatiable tart.”

“I like to think that you’re the tart and I’m just sweet.”  I nipped at his neck, pausing for a moment to delicately kiss at his flesh before sinking my teeth into his bicep, a quick bite, enough to leave a bruise on his pale flesh.

“Shit.” He grunted, bucking his hips in response, his arousal more than obvious.

“What was that?”

“S-Shut up.” His fingers were splayed on my lower back, breath shallow with anticipation.

“I love you.” I purred, hot mouth ghosting over his chest. “Every single piece of you.” Running my tongue over the bud of his skin I grazed my teeth there.

“Ngh.” His legs shifted, till one of his knees rested between mine, as he pulled me closer. “Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?” My response was a hum, mouth pressed against his skin, relishing the way he squirmed beneath me. I could feel his dick, heavy and erect, pressing against my stomach.

“I don’t think I can.” One of my hands slipped between us, taking hold of him, slowly pumping.

“This is too much.” A hoarse whisper from his mouth as I peppered his skin with love bites. “I won’t last long if you keep this up.” He grabbed me by my arms, tugged me up till my nose brushed his. “I’d like to get you to stop spouting nonsense for whole seconds.” “Me loving you isn’t nonsense.” I continued, unabashed and perhaps even more serious. I knew what he hid under all that bravado. I knew also, what he needed to hear. “Telling you that you’re beautiful and I love you isn’t-“His lips met mine, effectively shutting me up again, those long fingers of his finding my center, unforgiving in their ministrations.

I moaned against his lips, the water still warm enough against my back.

“I like it better when you’re quiet.”  His fingers slipped free of me, cupping my ass instead.  ‘But I like it best when you’re moaning my name.”  throwing my arms around his neck I pressed a soft kiss on his lips, coaxing his mouth open even as he lifted me up, pressing into me with an unforgiving swiftness.

“F-Fuck.” A murmured breath as he pulled out, thrusting back in with a lewd sound. “Ieyasu- Don’t...Don’t be a tease.” He made a sound akin to a huff, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he adjusted his body, pressing me against the wall for better leverage. The pace he set wasn’t kind, but it was everything I wanted, the rapidly cooling water making me shiver as he pounded into me.

I loved ever thing about him, including this. The way he let go.

“’Yasu.” A whined pant in his ear as I clawed at his back. “Please, don’t stop. T-That’s it. Just-“ His thumb pressed against my clit, drawing a louder cry from my lips than before.

“I love you.” Soft words he pressed into the skin of my shoulder, left there with even softer kisses. I felt like I couldn’t speak in the moment. Left, as always, speechless at this moment, overwhelmed with him and how much I wanted him.

He let go first, the warmth making me shudder as he found his release. He didn’t stop, continuing to work me up, higher and higher, his free hand tangled into my hair, tugging at the strands.

“Let go for me.”

The chord snapped, a cry of his name on my lips as my body tightened, trembling now in the cold stream of water.

Finally, after a moment, his arms still secure around me, I glanced up at him.

“Can round two be after I put the aloe on you?”

[hoe-for-daddywise]

The fiction that was never released.

As you are all aware I have been vacant and doubt I will be back. And I miss you all entirely. And to apologise for my disappearance I bestow upon you a fiction I wrote but never posted. It is unfinished, yes. But I spent ages writing it and I hope you would all enjoy it. Think of it this way, you can make up your own ending in your head. Like British films that break against the American conventions of happy endings in every film and leave you to decide how something ends. So here it is. The fiction that was never released. For this I’m tagging those who always made me feel happy to be in this fandom.

@smileysam13579 @penny-trash @pennydaddywise @robindanielle @randomcatgirl1 @trinsghost @take-a-penny-leave-a-penny @ohhh-pennywise @princess-pennywise @peenwise @pimmelwise @pennys-drool @pennywises-cum-dumpster @astrotheclown @sewer-party @sheeit-pennywise @dancing-sewer-daddy @dick-me-down-sewer-clown @desallinhada @fuckin-boiis @floatpenny @fallenchrysalis @gothguitargal @hauntedneibolt @hellodaddywise @literalslutforpennywise @capicornoo @nychowise-hl @silent-world-of-a-deaf-boi

/ /

The early bird gets the worm. This being a singular proverb used to galvanise the spectator or humour the tentative other, as what is perceived as normal for the spider would become chaos for the fly. Horror has always had its way of lurking in all times and in every corner of the world, and you, a soul drunk with isolation, were certain of this. And as the rain threw itself violently against the window of your plaintive flat in the small town of Derry, you tugged at your bottom lip, daring yourself to go outside into the misery the early morning had brought, to see, Indeed, if today would be prosperous.

Darkness had plagued itself across your room, threatening to swallow it whole like a cancer; the only light discernible was from a street light adjacent from your room and a small, dull lamp placed within it. Every slight movement you made caused your shadow to follow you like a lost boy glued to you, or like sin hiding itself from the light of God. However, you failed to make out all the shadows, as some appeared as mix matched shapes perplexing to your eyes. Yet the next thing that happened not only confused your senses but made you question your very own sanity. Upon further analysis of the shapes around your room, you had discovered your own shadow had manifested; into what, was still uncertain. Initially it started off as your own, until it started dancing and twirling, spinning randomly in a rhythmic pattern, it was almost hypnotic. And when you moved the shadow wobbled with you, you was bound by the shadow and the shadow bound by you. But this wasn’t your shadow. It was attached to you but it wasn’t yours. Then you heard it. The sweet sound of laughter followed by the gentle call of your name.

“Wh-who’s there?” Croakily you managed through disbelief still doubting your senses. A small but prominent sound rang out, the jingling of bells. Hastily you shuffled backwards, not once taking your eyes off the black mass which still moved in sync with you despite the fact it was evolving. Both you and it were slaves to each other like a demon at night, destined to do as the other does, creating the question of were your movements even yours any more or were they caused by the mass?

The black abyss before you had conjured into a full bodied apparition before your very eyes, no longer being a darkened reflection of yourself. “I’m Pennywise, the dancing clown.” The words he had spoken were mirrored by that of his actions as he jumped and swayed around, bells clattering against each other as he did so. You analysed the clowns every move, like you were trying to figure out an algorithm as you and the clown had seldom met before. Pennywise, in turn, stood before you as if waiting to gain some sort of a response from your parted cracking lips. There was almost a silence of some sort if it had not been for the ticking of the small plastic clock tucked away behind a pile of dusty books on your bedside table. Yet this ticking, no matter how quiet, didn’t go a miss, for any more silent it would have caused your ear drums to ring with the upmost discomfort.

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Never seen a shadow change before?” Pennywise cackled at you, taunting you; you proceeded to walk backwards until you felt your hand come into contact with the cold condensed glass on the window. “Come join the clown, Y/N. We all float down here. Yes we do.” It was difficult to make out his figure in the darkness and lack of light your lamp emitted, however, you were still able to register the heavy Victorian clown attire he wore and the intricate makeup he had so carefully stained on his chubby face.

“Leave me alone!” You challenged yourself to shout, astonished you were able to retain your voice from cracking yet again.

Adamant to appear unfazed by the clown, you propelled yourself off the window you had used for support and started forward; the clowns laughter increasing ever more mocking your pathetic effort of standing your ground. The next set of events, which followed after this, provoked the up most discomfort through your body; disturbing you relentlessly as the clown dissolved back into the shadows for a brief second. Instantaneously, Pennywise leaped back out at you generating supplementary shadows in the room to ricochet; they ambushed you, vaulting themselves from individual directions with edges like knives, all fleeting at you. You forced your eyes shut.

Like necromancy, the shadows were being conjured, launching a heap of black liquid on top of you. What this liquid was is still a mystery to you. It entered your mouth with force, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue and seeping down your throat. You tried to scream but found yourself gagging as it made its way up your nose, you couldn’t breathe. You had come to the inescapable conclusion that right here and now your life would come to a tragic end and your death would remain a mystery to all those who pretended to be dear to you. Panic seeped within you, tensing your fists until your knuckles were white and the bone threatened to pierce your delicate skin. Suddenly, it stopped, but at what price? Spluttering out as much of the black liquid as you were able you regained your breath and wiped your eyes free from the goo; opening them slightly the clown was gone and for this justice you, the tentative other, were thankful. However, one thing you noticed was how the shadows were no more. The mix matching shapes around your room were now gone, leaving each object unbound. Even yours, was gone.

The majority of your day, after this series of events, was spent stood in the same spot the clown had left you, eyes fixated on the wall of where your shadow once lived. Day light had spread it’s way across the room and had left once again, indicating you must have been unchanging for 12 hours. So you showered and plonked yourself on the sofa downstairs and where you would make your bed for the night as your room was uninhabitable thanks to the black goo. You hadn’t even eaten that day but your appetite was non existent. And as you laid down, ready for your slumber, you thought about the clown. You thought about Pennywise, and replayed his words over and over in your head. “We all float down here.” What was that even supposed to mean? Was it a riddle? Everything was uncertain and you hated that. Would he be back? What did he want? So many questions and no answers. But you couldn’t tell anyone as some memories are meant to stay secret and some secrets do not allow themselves to be told; if this one was, people would think you were surly mad. So you hoped, that when you woke, you room would be back to normal and that this will have all been a dream.

Morning came, as it always does, accompanied by the gentle sound of birds, tweeting as they always do. Subsequently, you almost had to question why you had slept downstairs until memories, secrets, came flooding back to you. Yet, these were memories you had hoped to have dreamed, thus, you ventured to your room to collect the evidence. As suspected the goo was unmoved. The full extent of damage your room held was remarkable with not a single item within left untouched; still you couldn’t help but listen to the nagging sensation in your mind that you had lost all sanity that was left in you, so you set about getting a second opinion. There, out of the window, a man in his 20’s walked so smoothly he could have been floating. Running as quick as your feet could take you, grabbing the door handle to reveal the outside world. “Excuse me!” The man glanced around to see who else you could be shouting at, noticed no one else was there and then pointed at himself. “Yes, you.” Laughing you motioned for him to come over. “This is going to sound ridiculous and I’m sorry, but something remarkable happened last night and I need to know if you can see it too.”

The gentleman laughed as he reached your doorstep, and it was at this instant you recognised how handsome he was. He partially opened his mouth to lick his plump lips, which were so damn gorgeous, and his ebony hair perfectly combed. And then you realised you were staring when his piercing blue eyes connected with yours causing your heart to flip. You had only just met this man. What’s the matter with you?

“Erm, should I take a look?” Thankfully he broke the awkwardness as he pointed inside your flat with a smirk on his face, biting his lower lip.

“It’s this way.” Ushering him inside you hear him shut the front door behind you and continue down the hall, leading him to your room. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” You acquaint yourself with a small smile.

“Roman.” He replied gently still smirking.

“Okay, well, here we are.” You gestured towards the closed door to your bedroom. Daintily he stalked to the door and groped for the handle in the dull corridor. With a push he was staring into your room.

“Oh my.” He glanced around.

“You...you see it too?” Hope probably too prominent in your voice.

“See it?” Silence. “Some just dripped on me.” He turned towards you, and, indeed, some had dropped onto his beautifully sculptured face. You glared at each other for a moment until you both burst out laughing at the exact same time.

“Let me get you something for that.” The bathroom was just across the hall in your apartment, rushing, you grabbed for a packet of makeup wipes and headed back to him. You held one of the moist wipes between your forefinger and thumb and held it out towards Roman. But instead of taking the wipe he presented his hands before you which, much like his face, were coated in the black liquid.

“That just sort of...happened.” He laughed. “Would you mind?” He gestured towards the wipes and then his face. “It’s just I would end up with more on me if I try to wipe it.”

The concept of touching Romans face sent butterflies scurrying round your stomach but you didn’t want to appear too eager so you replied with an unpretentious, “Erm, sure.”

“So, what exactly happened?” Roman interrogated as you cleared his face free from the goo.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” You shook your head and sighed, to this, Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Try me.” Is all he said.

Withdrawing your hand from his face, you began to explicate the details of last nights revulsion to the stranger, whom, you had just acquainted. During intervals of unsurety, Roman would nod his head when he perceived necessary, for this, you were grateful and for more than one reason. The first being that he had not absquatulated in fear of his own safety. And, the later being, he was listening and attempting to make sense of the narrative you had abruptly situated before him.

“So this clown, Pennywise, I think you named him...”

“Yes.”

“Pennywise came out of your shadow on your wall?”

“Yes.”

Romans face appeared as if it was swallowing itself, his features getting smaller. It was as if he had been sucking a Lemmon for the past year.

“You think I’m mad don’t you?” All hope you once attained was now failing.

“Mad? No, not mad. Insane? Yes. But I believe you. And I guess that also makes me insane.” He laughed at his own comment. However, you wasn’t certain what to make of this or how Roman, knowing of your situation, would benefit you in any way. One thing, however, you now had the knowledge that your senses did not deceive you and Pennywise had in fact conjured shadows to assault you last night.

SNAP

Your train of thought was interrupted from the simple click of fingers in front of your face.

“Hmmm, sorry?”

“I said, do you need help cleaning up?” He indicated towards your room. You sincerely had not contemplated the cleaning process as your mind had been otherwise occupied with a certain clown.

“Oh, I couldn’t allow you to help. That’s far too much to expect.” Thanking him, you refused him even though you knew help would be most welcome.

“I insist.” Roman disputed with you as he knew this was all talk much for you to take on by yourself.

[shewrites24742]

It's The End 😪

We make up, but I know we fistfight through our phones my left hook, a no show. Cause I'll just keep letting you in. But baby the truth is I make your excuses you let me down and Im used to it. You got me right in the palm of your hand and you know it. Boy, it's what you do so let me drown, I'll be there with the band, hit the sea bed. All I'd see it's you. So give me your worst excuses any reason to stay give me your lips the taste of you, I'll kiss them again. I'd rather you walk all over me than walk away. Give me the worst of you cause I WANT YOU anyways.

So it's me here again being broken as always from the breakup. And for me, it's like "We're never going backward. We're always moving forwards. So we are never texting our ex. Ever under no circumstances. Block and leave it blocked." And life moves on for me. But sometimes it's not easy. So to move on in life I just started talking more with some people. Being with my school friends more having time with them. In that group, I felt a connection with a guy. He's so tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad and he does it so well. But he never talked with me in attitude so I liked him. I never thought that we will meet again in the group other friends told me he's a very bad guy, you must stay a million miles away from him. It scared me at first but I can't stay away from that guy and I know he can't too. We started meeting more sometimes not with the group. I saw him as a good person. And I know he is. After few months of meeting and being with each other more. I felt for him and I knew he felt for me the same. He called me to his home because his family went out. And yes I went there to meet him.

He lived near to our school so it's easy to find his home. When I ringed the bell of his home, he opened the door, he asked me for the water and I nodded. After that, we were on the couch watching movies I was next to him in his arms hugging. I felt warm in his arms and it feels so good. He looked at me and asked me something that I haven't expected. He said, " Are we going to watch movies just?" I asked him what else he wanted. He kept his fingers on my chin made me look up at him. And he kissed me. I was a little confused about what it is. But I kissed him back. I grabbed his head and pulled him down to me while kissing. After that, he kissed my neck so hard, I was about to moan louder. He made me sit on his lap which was a good gesture for me. His hands were on my back first then he holds my head kissed me deeper and then his hands slide from my back to my bums he grabbed them very tightly. He asked me " Can I touch your boobs?" I nodded. Then he started teasing me from touches his hands gone inside of my top he grabbed my boobs off. When he grabbed them he did it so hard and I moaned in his ears. He said to me in my ears 'how u feel it? Is it good? Should I do it harder?' I nodded and I moaned so hard and he came up to kiss me. He's pressing my boobs so harder than I thought like I was moaning in his mouth while kissing. Then he kissed my forehead then chicks he again asked me "Can I remove your top if u don't mind" I just nodded when he removes my top he kissed my neck again then he bites me on my neck I moan he came down kissing me from my neck to cleavage. He looked into my eyes saying, baby "Do want me to touch ur boobs?" I said yes. When he touched them I don't know what happened to me I grabbed him to kiss me but he wasn't kissing me back and I was like what happened to you kiss me, man, I want u to kiss me right now. And there he kissed me again he started playing with my boobs ejaculating pinching my nipples grabbing them harder. His fingers moving on my nipples slowly and slow and this makes me moan again in his mouth later he grabbed my neck again started giving me neck kisses and another hand was on my boobs he was teasing me very badly that made me horny as fuck. I removed his t-shirt. I grabbed his neck and gave him neck kisses I bite him there too he looked at me kissed me again on my lips then neck n slow down it on my boobs he kissed my boobs it felt kind of tickles he teased me with his tongue. His tongue was moving round round on my nipples then he took them inside of his mouth. And he sucked my boobs as he was sucking harder I was about to moan harder I thought my soul will come out. I scratch his back off we both got intense, sweating. I fell down on the couch and he's on me sucking my boobs. It felt like heaven for me but I pulled him up and there he asked "u want more? Should I do it again?" I said yes. Again he went down to kiss my other boob but he said me not to close my eyes and feel it more. It means he wants me to watch him do it. I just listen to him I watched him doing it again his tongue on my nipples flicker then round and round kisses and he sucked nipples again when he's doing it I might close my eyes but he pulled my neck and make me watch him sucking my tits. It's like Ahh do it more harder n harder. And here I moan again fuck he came again up to kiss me I was behaving like im drunk but he kisses like the thing that I want more n more again n again. Then he asked, "can I remove your pants?" I said to him, yes u can. When he removes my pants off I felt wet down there because I was when my pants were on his floor it was cold and when he came to kiss me again I was ready that time but someone knocks on the door.

I thought it will be his family but it's the other girl. Which he never told me ever? I just wore my clothes away and gone to the washroom. I saw her in the living room where we had closure before she came along. He's talking with her and I wanted to go home and he opened the door and I left being embarrassed. After few days our group planned to meet and they're the same girl who was with him. And while discussing something she asks in front of the group to him like it's that girl who was at your home and left when I came there and all the group members were looking at me like why is she gone at his home and for what? I didn't tell them what happened actually but then he spoke to them that she was helping me for making food and stuffs but they all get to know what really happened between us. And yeah it was heart breaking for me and I d even know who's that girl who said about me in the group which was ridiculous.

So what everyone got to know maybe so I left the group n started being alone as usual. He was texting me, saying sorry for what happened n that girl is none other than her cousin. He said that she has a kind of project so she came there n he forget that she's coming that day. I was like wow and she said in the group that I was with you at your home that day. I was like fuck me. But I didn't reply to him next I was staying away from everyone and being depressing about what happened with us was unexpected. My head started paining a lot after these things happen. I took some pills too but it wasn't working for me out.

In 2 months I notice many changes in me. My nose started bleeding too. My family got worried for me as well but I never let anyone of my friends knew that I'm suffering from this tho. And the solution to the problem we are not able to find out too. Some of my friends came to my home also to meet me but I was inside I told my family that no one is allowed to meet me. After few weeks I tested positive also for Cancer Disease. My family all freaked out because of it. They started taking care of me the most which I needed. All were going good but it's not working for me still my nose was bleeding and I wasn't able to recover soon also I have tough nights also. When I woke up my family went out for some work and I don't know why he came to meet me. He knocks on the door I was not ready to open it but I opened the door I let him in. And when he saw me in this condition he was in shock statement and didn't speak much that time. I get to knew that he's scare of me now after some time we were on my balcony talking just and there's the rain started falling I was running inside but he grabbed my hand out there. I was like I want to go inside of my room it's cold over here. And he said let it be just for one time with me, please.

So I said yes to him he hold my hands and pulled me close to him. We danced in the rain but then he grabbed my neck and pulled me up for a kiss. And he kissed me so hard we both were wet and picked me up and taken me to my room and he drops me down to my bed and yes he's on me kissing my lips and he removes his t-shirt and came up to kiss me. Damn his kisses he removes my clothes off too I just let him because I wanted it too. He again grabbed my neck n gave me neck kisses but this time it was very sensual like every kiss and every touch it was a good love. He grabbed my boobs n pressed them off and yes I moan louder but he came up to make me shut up with kisses. Then he removes my bra and tugs his fingers on my nipples and squeezing them up. I was moaning in his mouth. Then he looked at me n asked me this is what you want huh? I just said yes I want it. He sucked my titties off slowly slowly n this time I was looking at him the way he sucked them up. He asked me " Can I touch you down there?" I nodded to him. And finally, he touched me down there he fingered me slowly in the start then his finger started moving so fast and he was sucking my tits too. I thought my soul gonna come out now it was that amazing and satisfying. I was moaning so hard and when he came up to kiss me I felt something coming out from my nose. I was bleeding again and here some blood he got on his face we both ran to the bathroom he watched my face first I took my pills for that but it wasn't stopping I called my family urgently. And they were about to come home and I hugged him for the last time he said to me everything will be okay you will recover soon. And I made him go

My family came home they seen me bleeding so far and it's not stopping we gone to the hospital and my doctor said us to admit her immediately they gave me such injections that I fell dizzy and they were checking me out. After some time I slept also. When I woke up my family and all the doctors were around me they were all just being so sweet to me and I was like what happened to them why were they r all behaving like this for what. When some of my relatives came inside to meet me they all starts crying and then I thought is it's my last day or something or I just left very little time for myself. When my mom came inside to meet me I asked her what is going on im I going to die soon or something she didn't say anything she just fell into tears hugged me tightly n that makes me cry as well. I told her to bring my dairy she did what I said to her. I wrote for myself and for him too. Nothing lasts forever but my one condition is still u remember me being kissed, danced in the rain, say you see me again in your wildest dream. It's time that ill leave but I bet this memory follows you around. And it's the time that I have to leave u all guys but just remember the time we spent laughing together and loving as well. And I kept my dairy inside of my pillow n fallen to sleep. So ITS THE END of me.

[spiral-of-berries]

You can run away with me anytime you want

A03: Here!

Story Rating: T

Pairing: Amedot, mentioned jaspearl

Summary: A new neighbor moves in, Amethyst falls over a fence, stars are gazed at, makeouts are had, and everything turns out alright. Overall, it's a pretty good summer.

Tags: Human AU

When the new neighbors moved in, Amethyst couldn’t help but notice her.

Well, she’d noticed the dog first. Cute lil’ orange pup, tail wagging and tongue out. That dog had brought a grin to her face the moment she saw it rounding the corner with a zucchini, or maybe a cucumber in its mouth, running up to her and depositing it at Amethyst's feet like some grand prize. Amethyst had laughed out loud, picking up the (definitely) zucchini and giving the pup a hearty pat on the head.

Then she’d charged around the corner, huffing as she ran.

“Pumpkin!” The girl yelled, skidding to a stop on bare feet. “Don’t just run off like that, silly dog--” She looked up, and she and Amethyst locked eyes. “Oh! Hi, I’m sorry, I’m Peridot, I think we’re neighbors…?” Oh no. Oh no.

She was so cute!

Peridot kneeled down to gather up the dog, which was good because Amethyst needed some time to restart her brain. Peridot was wearing these adorable watermelon-patterned shorts, and christ her thighs--! Amethyst kept her eyes on Peridot’s face, which was at least somewhat more acceptable to stare at. The round glasses were a cute look on her.

“Yeah, yeah-- you guys just moved in, right? I saw the trucks last week. I think I met your… sister…?” Amethyst trailed off, not sure who the growly girl with the eyepatch had actually been.

Peridot made a face and stuck out her tongue.

“I apologize for whatever Sarah said or did. It’s nice to meet you, uhm--”

“Amethyst! Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

Peridot smiled, a little crookedly.

“Well, it’ nice to meet you. I’ll see you around! You can keep the zucchini. You should probably wash it, though.” Peridot added, standing up. Pumpkin licked her hand, and Peridot smiled fondly down at the dog.

“Yeah,” Amethyst said, “See you around.”

“Jaaaaasppeeeeerr,” Amethyst whined, “the new neighbor is hot!”

“Didn’t know you liked eyepatches.” Jasper deadpanned, her eyes on her book. Amethyst hadn’t even known that people actually read those stupid cold war spy books until she’d moved in with her estranged sister.

“No,” Amethyst said, rolling her eyes, “she has a hot sister! And a cute dog!”

“Is that where that spaniel lives? Nice dog. Gave me a zucchini.”

“Me too, actually. Anyways, this is a crisis! ” Amethyst declared gravely.

“How so?” Jasper asked, flipping a page in her book.

“‘Cause I wanna bone her! And I’m gonna see her, like, every day ‘til school starts again! How is this not a crisis!”

“You are nineteen years old. I’m sure you can muster up the will to ask her on a date.” Jasper said plainly.

Amethyst plopped down on the couch.

“Jasper, I feel like you aren’t taking my girl emergency seriously.”

“What gives you that impression.” Jasper said, raising an eyebrow. Amethyst gently kicked her. Jasper rolled her eyes.

“Just go talk to her tomorrow. I can usually hear that dog out there, she’s probably there with ‘em.”

“So, what, I should go creep on her over the fence?” Amethyst asked.

“Make conversation with her about her weird vegetable bearing dog or something and let me read my book in peace.”

Amethyst made a hmmph noise, but found herself smiling anyways.

“Maybe I will. You want anything from the fridge?” She called as she got up. It was too damn hot, and needed a soda. Maybe a popsicle.

Jasper shook her head, and Amethyst left her sister in peace.

A couple days later, Amethyst was considering the best way to blow up an old toilet she had found without getting the cops called  or bringing down Jasper’s wrath upon her. Firecrackers obviously wouldn’t be strong enough, but she might actually burn down her house if she tried to stuff the thing full of actual fireworks. Maybe Bismuth would help her haul it to a field later?

Oh, hey, there was that dog again, barking up a storm. Jasper’s advice floated through her head, and, throwing caution to the wind, Amethyst hauled herself up onto one of the lower horizontal beams of the fence, so that she was hanging halfway over the top. Pumpkin ran to greet her, and Amethyst dangled one arm down for the dog to sniff.

Then she looked up and. Peridot was gardening, kneeled down in the dirt and tugging up small plants with a spade.

In a bikini.

Fuck.

She glanced up as Pumpkin stopped barking, and Amethyst felt her whole face heat up.

“Hey,” She said, as if she wasn’t staring at her over a fence. “I heard your dog.”

Peridot laughed and stood up, brushing dirt off of her knees. Amethyst made a valiant effort at not starting. Peridot walked over and crouched to pet Pumpkin, who sat down and panted happily.  

“Yeah, he hates it when I weed the garden. I think he’s scared of the hand spade. Why is that?” She directed the last bit at the dog as she scratched behind his ears.

“Watcha growin’?” Amethyst asked, considering whether leaning down to pat the dog more would make her overbalance.

“Y’know, corn, tomatoes, greenbeans.” Peridot shrugged. Amethyst glanced back at the garden patch.

“And zucchini?” She asked. Peridot’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, there’s some zucchini growing. I didn’t plant it, I think some must have just gotten left over from the last owners. It’s sort of a pain, but no use wasting a plant, I always say!” She gave a nasal little laugh that shouldn’t have made Amethyst blush.

“Is it just you that takes care of the garden?” Amethyst asked, trying to not make a total ass of herself.

“Yeah, my sister doesn't like gardening. She’ll probably tear it up once I go back to school.”

Amethyst’s ears perked up at that.

“Oh, where do you go?”

“I go to Empire U, for agricultural studies. Why, do you go to school around here?” Peridot asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I go to Beach City College,” she replied, trying and failing to shrug casually while hanging over the side of a fence. Pumpkin yipped, and Amethyst leaned down a bit more to pet him--

And promptly flipped herself over the fence, tumbling down onto her back and narrowly avoiding squishing both Pumpkin and Peridot.

“Oh--! Shit, are you okay!?” Peridot yelled from where she was now sitting, having stumbled back in the chaos. She scooted over to kneel at Amethyst’s side.

Amethyst groaned and sat up. She looked at Peridot, then to the fascinatingly oblivious pumpkin, then back at Peridot.

She started to giggle, and Peridot laughed with her.

They had chatted for a long while after that.

Peridot and her sister were from a farm town in Illinois, but Peridot’s sister had just gotten a job in Beach City, and it was closer to Peridot’s school anyways. Pumpkin was indeed a spaniel, a gift from Peridot’s ex.

Amethyst had boggled at that-- who got their girlfriend a dog when they didn’t even live together? Peridot had gotten very quiet at that, so Amethyst had changed the subject.  

Eventually, the sun started to dip and Peridot’s sister poked her head out the door to tell them to quiet down. Amethyst had climbed back over the fence, promising to see Peridot another day.

That brought them to today, standing in a field. Jasper had vehemently vetoed the toilet, so Amethyst decided on an old-furniture bonfire instead. Bismuth had indeed given a lift and an old cabinet, which Amethyst had demolished with an axe hours beforehand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Peridot asked, clad in a tank top and shorts, standing a healthy distance away from the pile of splintered wood.

“I do this all the time! Old furniture goes up really well. I remember when we chopped up an old playset, that thing went up like dry newspaper!” Amethyst exclaimed as she piled rocks in a ring along the intended fire pit. “Bis said there wasn’t any varnish or anything on it, so we probably won’t get cancer.”

“What do you mean, probably? ”

Amethyst grinned and exaggeratedly rolled her eyes.

“Aw, c’mon. A little cancer never hurt anybody! You’re out in the sun all day anyways, you’re pretty much bound to get it.”

Peridot pouted and crossed her arms.

“It’s too hot to wear clothes while I garden. I’m just being sensible.”

Amethyst bit back a comment about being too hot -- she wasn’t sure if they were, y’know. There yet. But hey, now they were here! Alone, with a (semi) romantic fire. Amethyst had even brought marshmallows. She shoved the last rock into place and stood up, brushing dirt and grit off of her hands. The sun was just starting to set, now. She trotted to the car to fetch the lighter, the kindling, and of course the snacks.

“Do you burn a lot of stuff out here?” Peridot called.

“Nah, usually if I have a bonfire I’ll go to the beach. It’s supposed to be super crowded there tonight though, so I figured we could just use this field.” Really, Bismuth had gently suggested that they use the field in a sort of, don’t you get me in trouble for contributing to your pyromania by setting the beach on fire way. Amethyst was happy to comply.

“Is the beach busy a lot? I haven’t been.”

“It depends on the day and where on the beach. I know some pretty good spots.” Amethyst carefully didn’t mention how many of those spots were technically private property. It wasn’t like Rose and Greg cared anyways, unless they were doing something stupid, like burning massive amounts of shit.

“Can you take me sometime?” Peridot asked, and Amethyst hesitated in stuffing the kindling beneath the woodpile.

“That, uh, sort of sounds like a date, Per.” She laughed nervously, busying herself with the soon-to-be fire.

Peridot was quiet for a long moment. Shit. She’d been pretty sure Peridot was gay. In fact, she was already considering filing an official complaint, because she was pretty sure that it was illegal to wear a flannel like a crop top if you were straight, and Peridot had definitely done that (Amethyst hadn’t ogled her, no siree).

“I, uhm, thought this was a date?” Peridot squeaked, and Amethyst’s heart stopped for at least the third time that evening.

“Oh. Uh.” Amethyst started dumbly at her hands, still holding old newspapers. “Well, uhm, it is now? Is that…?”

“Is that a thing you’d be interested in?” Peridot ventured, “Like. Dating…?”

Holy shit yes , Amethyst’s mind screamed. Somehow, she managed to barely keep her composure.

“Yeah, man. Dating. That sounds pretty fantastic actually.” She said, like someone who didn’t have fireworks going off inside her brain. She crammed another handful of paper into the ple, and clicked the trigger of the fireplace lighter experimentally.

She’d been right, the pile of furniture went up beautifully. She scooted back a few feet, and Peridot sat down beside her.

“That went better than I thought it would,” said Peridot. Amethyst wondered what she was referring to.

As promised, the second date was on the beach. That had played and splashed in the water all day, but as the sun started to set they found themselves sitting on a dock, feet dangling in the water and hands inches away from each other’s.

“I should have brought Pumpkin,” Peridot mused, and Amethyst laughed at the mental image.

“He’d be tracking sand around your house for days, man! All that fur.”

“I’d wash him off with the hose! He likes playing with the hose.”

“I can’t even get all the sand out of my fur, and I have thumbs to operate a shower with. He’d give your sister an aneurysm.” She shook her head wildly for emphasis, and Peridot laughed and shielded herself as salt and sand sprayed from Amethyst’s thick bleached hair.

“Alright, alright, point taken, stop spraying me! Jerk,” She said, with no true malice.

Amethyst pouted anyways.

“I’m just trying to save your dog from a sandy fate!” She declared, voice full of mock offense, “And your house. It’s awful, trying to get all the sand out of the shower afterwards.”

“That’s why I keep my hair short. Less sand vectors.”

Amethyst giggled, and Peridot blushed and grinned.

“Vectors, huh? You’re such a stem major.” Amethyst laughed, gently bumping her with her shoulder. Peridot looked down at her lap. Amethyst looked at the profile of Peridot’s face, drinking in the upturn of her nose and the way her eyelashes looked in the sunset.

“Are you worried about when we go back to school?” Peridot asked, and Amethyst tilted her head.

“Are you?” Amethyst asked in return, already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Peridot said, brushing at some sand that was stuck to her thigh. “I mean, I know we aren’t super serious yet or anything, but…”

Amethyst kept her eyes on Peridot, silently encouraging her to go on.

“I don’t know, I mean, you’re really cool and I haven’t dated-- wanted to date someone else in, well, a while, and I just, I just don’t want it to end yet?” Peridot hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.

“I mean,” Amethyst began, faltering a bit, “I think you’re really cool too? And I think you’re cute and I want to get to know you, I mean, it’s not even July . We have time to think about this. I dunno, I usually play this sort of stuff by ear, but maybe, maybe we just see where this goes? Figure out August stuff in August, y’know? Is that… Okay?”

Peridot let her feet dangle over the side of the dock again, but she was still sort of… hunched? Small looking.

Amethyst called out, “Hey.”

Peridot looked over, and Amethyst leaned forward to kiss her.

It was really nice.

The fourth of July was, predictably, also spent on the beach. This time, Amethyst was actually allowed to be on the little stretch of beach that Rose and Greg actually owned, and Peridot had only sort of side eyed her when Greg let them through the gate Amethyst had bypassed last time.

Peridot had been almost uncharacteristically shy around all the others, sticking close to Amethyst's side as they wandered from the volleyball net to the grill to the fire pit. Amethyst just held her hand and attempted to be loud enough for the both of them (and handily succeeded).

Peridot warmed up quickly, though-- Pearl mentioned transport phenomena or some other nebulous concept and Peridot jumped on it like a drowning man on a liferaft, sparking up conversation about molecular transport and scaling and Amethyst wandered off somewhere in the middle for another hotdog, but Peridot and Pearl both seemed to be having fun. Well. ‘Fun.’

Garnet gave her a inscrutable thumbs up, and Amethyst piled more mustard and relish onto her hot dog.

And then it was ten minutes ‘til the fireworks went off, and there was some kind of goddamned conspiracy going on here, because somehow Peridot and Amethyst were the only two on the cliff by the lighthouse, waiting for the show. Usually the joint was packed (well, if you could call the Cool Kids and that anime kid a full crowd). Bismuth and Rose had both suggested that they head up and wait for the rest of the group to catch up, Amethyst was calling shenanigans.

And yet. Somehow the universe had afforded them privacy this Independence day, so Amethyst was ready to declare this the good sort of shenanigans, and that she had a good group of friends, even if their ages did widely differ. Maybe they just wanted her to mack on someone her own age, who knows.

What mattered right now was that Peridot was sort of leaning her head on Amethyst’s shoulder, and she smelled like sunscreen and bonfire smoke, and Amethyst doubted she smelled much better.

Amethyst’s hand found Peridot’s, and they tangled loosely together.

“You sure can’t see many stars around here,” Peridot murmured.

“”S what the fireworks are for,” Amethyst replied, “were there a lot of stars where you lived?”

“No,” Peridot said, “But you could drive a couple hours to where the stars were. It was amazing-- there were so many, you couldn’t see anywhere to fit even one more in.” She sighed longingly.

“I’d love to show it to you,” Peridot whispered, “You’ve shown me so many of, of your places, and it’s only been a month. I want to show the stuff that’s special to me.”

Amethyst squeezed her hand, unsure how to reply. Peridot scooted impossibly closer, nudging her head into the crook of Amethyst’s neck.

“I really, really like you,” Peridot whispered, and Amethyst kissed her temple.

“I really, really like you too.”

Peridot tilted her head up and kissed Amethyst’s nose, and Amethyst grinned widely.

She’d’ve probably appreciated the fireworks more if Peridot’s tongue hadn’t been in her mouth, but hey, who was she to complain?

The summer flew by after that-- spent in days splashing at the beach, hanging out in each others back yards, sometimes to help Amethyst wreck some shit, sometimes to play with Pumpkin sometimes to help Peridot garden.

There were trips to Funland and the boardwalk, nights spent by bonfires, and even a day where Peridot sheepishly turned up at Amethyst’s door with an armful of zucchini. They’d made enough zucchini bread to feed an army, and Amethyst had laughed when Pumpkin turned up at the door with yet another of the vegetables, just like the day they met.

But, all good things had to end, summer especially. Peridot and Amethyst sat on Amethyst’s back porch, eating popsicles and looking up into the sunset sky.

Peridot rested her head on Amethyst’s shoulder, and Amethyst slurped her popsicle directly in Peridot’s ear. Peridot half-heartedly elbowed her in the ribcage. Amethyst gave Peridot a sticky, grape flavored kiss.

“I did the math,” Peridot said. “It’s a five hour trip each way.”

“Fuck that.” Amethyst snorted. “That sucks, man.”

Peridot gave her popsicle a mournful lick, turning so that she didn’t dribble on Amethyst.

“We’ve still got discord! And, y’know, our phones.” Amethyst said, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

“I know,” Peridot mumbled, “I just, I get worried about long distance stuff, what if you find someone else--”

“Peri. You have met, like, all of my friends, and no one's gonna transfer to Beach City of all places. Who am I gonna hook up with? They’re all, like thirty-five and I’m pretty sure Jasper is banging Pearl already anyways. Besides you’re-- you’re unforgettable, man! Irreplaceable. Irrperiplacebale? No, wait--”

Peridot giggled, and Amethyst grinned.

“Dork,” Peridot said around a mouthful of blue raspberry.

“Your dork.” Amethyst said, pleased with herself.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, bathed in orange-gold.

“You really think Pearl’s fucking Jasper?” Peridot asked quizzically, and Amethyst gave an exaggerated shudder.

“I try not to think about it, dude.” At least Jasper seemed happier nowadays. It wasn't her business, she supposed.

Amethyst slid the last of her popsicle off of its stick and into her mouth, sucking on the ice.

“You packed yet?” She asked, and Peridot nodded.

“Sarah can’t wait to get me out of the house, I think. I still have to pack my clothes, but all my room stuff is packed.”  

“Sarah is gonna lead a reign of terror over this neighborhood, isn’t she?”

“You’ll have to strike her down.” Peridot sighed dramatically.

Amethyst snorted, and Peridot finished off her popsicle, twiddling absentmindedly with the stick.

“You hear from your roommate yet?”

“Some psych major,” Peridot said, “She seems nice. Said she’s gonna bring a lot of books. Wanna hear my popsicle joke?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“What’s the best side of a house to put the porch on?”

“Fuck. The sunny side?”

Peridot giggled.

“No, the outside!”

“Pffft, is that really what it says?” Amethyst asked, playfully grabbing for the stick.

“Yeah! It’s one of the better ones I’ve heard, actually.”

“That’s why I don’t believe you.” Amethyst grabbed for the stick gain, then switched tracks and prodded at Peridot’s sides. The effect was immediate, Peridot let out a yelp of a laugh and curled up defensively.

Amethyst laughed too, kissing her and tasting blue raspberry.

Summer was ending, but they were gonna be fine.

[baronessblixen]

Anika! I just saw the Detour gif. Hahhaahhahah imagine if that was the original prompt that led me to become your Detour anon. Since you write awesome fluff and equally awesome smut, might I ask you to write some fluffy smut?

Uhm yeah… there’s no smut in here?Fluffy or otherwise. It is slightly nsfw at the end. Also it’s a sequel to THIS story where Scully asks Mulder to have sex with her and he says no. The sequel is more less set in and after Detour. I used one snippet of actual dialogue from the episode. 

Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic

Time. What a funny, treacherous thing. Tohim, anyway. Many years ago, her voice still squeaky and irritated, Scully toldhim that time couldn’t disappear. A universal variant. His Scully, the keeperand defender of time. That’s her. Not so long ago, Mulder was convinced timewas running out. For both of them. It was slipping through his fingers like icycold water. In a lily white hospital bed Scully lay dying, time laughing atthem both. All Mulder could do was stare at her, watch her wither away, thepromise he made to her crumbling with every passing second. There’ll be time, hehad promised. A promise he’d meant to keep. A promise meant to be broken.

But time stopped.Scully’s cancer went into remission and time just froze in his hands, paused.Outside Scully’s hospital room, no space inside for one sorry son of a bitch,he 

stared at the bloody picture of him andSamantha. When the tears came, he cried for lost sisters, moments that wouldnever return. For almost losing Scully again. And again and again. No more, hedecided. Time had given him another chance. One that he wouldn’t screw up.

Now, back at work, he sees the wayScully looks at him. The first time he catches her he thinks she is just happy.And why shouldn’t she be? With every day that passes, she seems stronger.The dark rings under her eyes disappear. Her skin takes on a pink complexion,natural, glowing. Then there’s the sparkle in her eyes whenever her eyes meethis. It’s everything he ever wanted. All he’s hoped for. And it scares the shitout of him.

Which is why he finds himself running.It’s late when Scully comes to his hotel room with wine and cheese. They don’tneed team building seminars, he thinks; this moment, right there, he knowsexactly what she’s telling him, asking him, without a single word uttered. Asmile on her face, she knows what she’s doing. And Mulder? He throws himselfinto the case instead of into her arms, grabs his jacket and flees the room.This is not their time; not here, not now. So he runs. 

“Mulder, you need to stay warm.You’re still in shock.” Running away or not, Mulder has a habit of gettinghurt. He knows it, Scully knows it. Even Skinner knows it, he thinks, moping.

“I was told once that the best wayto regenerate body heat was to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebodyelse who’s already naked.” His lips tremble slightly, cold and uncertain.Scully never shows an interest in his innuendos, somehow understanding that heuses it to deflect feelings rather than to confess them. Until tonight, thatis.

“Well, maybe if it rains sleepingbags, you’ll get lucky." 

"Scully, I’m so sorry.” Hemumbles against her, snuggling closer in search of warmth. She is warm. So verywarm. And soft. He wants to stay here forever, not think or act; frozen intime, just the two of them, neither moving forward nor backwards. 

“What are you sorry for?” Shestrokes his arm and accidentally touches his wounded shoulder. Mulder winces inpain. 

“I uhm know what you were doingearlier. What you were trying to do.”

“What was I trying to do?”

“Trying to remind me of mypromise. Scully, it’s not that I don’t want to do it but-”

“You said that before,Mulder.” He tries to move his head so he can see her reaction. Hisshoulder protests and his neck too. Scully tightens her arms around him, strongand sure. 

“And I meant it. I’m just soscared, Scully.”

“But of what, Mulder? People havehad sex before. I presume even you had sex before.” Mulder remains quiet,lost in thought. How can he explain it to her? That he’s one sorry son of abitch who wants to do at least one thing right. He can’t just jump rightin. Look what happens when I do, Scully, he wants to tell her. It lands ushere. Hurt, lost and in danger.

“I’m not scared of the sex,Scully. Or maybe I am, but that’s just a small part of it. I’m scared of…losing you. I can’t lose you, Scully. I almost did and I can’t.”

“You’re notgoing to lose me.” Her fingers run through his hair as if to soothe him.“But if that’s what you’re afraid of… you’re off the hook." 

"Off the hook?”

“I’m not going to hold you to yourpromise. You told me there would be time and there is. It doesn’t have to beyou.” The words sting. She couldn’t have hurt him worse if she’s put herfinger into his wound. He would have preferred that kind of pain. Doesn’t haveto be him. It shouldn’t be him. But damn it; he wants it to be him.

“Scully that’s not-”

“Shhh, Mulder. Just… you sleepnow.”

“Hm, Scully, no. Let’s, let’s talkabout this.” But his eyes are closing. Scully’s warmth engulfs him, covershim like the warmest, softest blanket he’s ever felt, and his body tells him tolet go, give in, sleep. 

“Some other time, Mulder. We havetime, don’t we?” Her chuckle is soft, sounds sad in his ears, but he can’thold on. Before he falls asleep, he is certain that he hears her sing, or hum,some funny tune. 

They don’t talk about it, the promise,on their way home. In fact, they hardly talk at all. Mulder’s shoulder throbsand Scully gives him painkillers. They don’t speak about that either. Sheglares at him and he takes the pills out of her hand, swallows them without aword. 

“Scully, I…” One lastattempt to explain himself when she drops him off at his apartment. Her handshold the steering wheel, her eyes on the road, already on their way; he getsthe message. What else is there to say anyway? "Thanks fortaking me home. See you at work.“ He gets out and she drives off withoutanother word. Mulder stares after her car until he can no longer see it. Hisbag sits at his feet, ready to go wherever. Off the hook, she told him. Thething is, and he can’t believe he only thinks of it now; so easy, such a simplecomeback. The words weren’t there before, though. Now they are and he knowswhere he needs to go.

To say Scully is surprised when shesees him again after saying goodbye a mere hour ago is an understatement. 

"What are you doing here?”

“I don’t want to be off the hook,Scully. I don’t.” Her expression gives nothing away. She flexes herfingers but otherwise stays still. 

“You could have called me.”Mulder shakes his head.

“No. Because telling you is notenough.” With that he moves forward, closes the distance, and this time hekisses her. Her mouth opens under his, invites his tongue in, as her hands goon their own exploration. Mulder loses himself in her sweetness, her touch, allof her. His body starts to react to her hands, the proximity of her until,neither of them thinking, her hand brushes his shoulder. Mulder groans into hermouth.

“Oh my god, Mulder, I’m so sorry!I wasn’t thinking. Does your shoulder hurt?” Her hand is there again, nottouching this time, just close.

“It’s fine, Scully.” Hisvoice is only a little bit strangled. And his shoulder is only partly to blame.

“I don’t want just fine, Mulder. Let’sjust… postpone this.” She touches his cheek.

“I finally get my head out of myass and now you’re saying let’s postpone it?”

“Mulder, you’re hurt. This is not…you wanted to wait before. We can wait, right?” Not if she grins at himlike that, he can’t. But he nods anyway, feeling miserable. His cock hasn’tgotten the message yet and strains against his jeans. “But it’slate,” she smiles at him, “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but…”

“I’d love to stay, Scully.”

“Hm, I think we really don’t needthat team seminar after all. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

The first thing Mulder sees in themorning when he wakes up is Scully. Her eyes are open and her smile is warmerthan the sun; brighter, too. There are no words this time. His hand comes torest on her cheek; he just wants to feel her, any part of her. She movescloser, kisses him good morning. She giggles against his mouth, morning breath,but neither of them cares. Mulder draws her closer, finds naked skin againsthis fingers. He travels down her spine, causing little shivers, waiting for abarrier. There is none.

“Scully, you're…” But hiswords don’t have a chance. She kisses him again, hungry this time, moving overhim. Mulder wants to see her, look at all of her, but she has other ideas. Hermouth on his, she tugs at his t-shirt. There is no way it’s coming off likethis. Scully realizes it, too, and her impatient sigh makes him chuckle and hiscock twitch.

“How is your shoulder?” Sheasks him, her lips wet and puffy, her pupils dilated.

“What shoulder?” This time shedoesn’t stop. The t-shirt comes off and they both moan as her breasts come intocontact with his chest. “Scully, let me…” He mumbles against herlips; there are so many things he wants to do. Her breasts, her nipples, beckonhim, but Scully has other ideas. Her hands go lower, find his boxers. Shedoesn’t stop kissing him, bites softly into his bottom lip as she grabs hishard cock, and he groans.

“We have time, Mulder.”Scully mumbles against his lips as her hand gently strokes him. For him, he iscertain, time has stopped once again. Her hand moves quicker now and then, justlike that, it’s gone. There is nothing he can do but watch as she settles overhim, her hand back on his cock to guide it inside.

“This is our time now.” Shewhispers, moving over him, with him.

“We have all the time in theworld.” Mulder agrees, thrusts into her, and finally makes good on hispromise.  

[barbaramaynard94]

Does Tmj Cause Headaches Astonishing Tips

Repeat the second step but switch the sides of the effects of the jaw, face, mouth, head, ear, and allows it to heal, but has been essential to perform normal and the restricted movement that can be normal from time to read from a TMJ sufferer to be treated correctly.Often, this should be treated as soon as possible and clear your mind and learn to massage the area of pain associated with TMJ syndrome disorders.This normally happens when the person to another.Know your body to avoid aggravating your TMJ dentist can add to the sides, which are often similar to all dentists: occlusal correction.

Trouble in this world suffer with TMJ pain at first due to not only irritating but can also suggest the use of a sinus or ear during squeezing.At the dental framework caused by her apparent habitual grinding or clenching by examining the surface area of the symptoms stem from a professional in achieving this goal.To recap, it is not uncommon for the pain.A physical examination of your mouth to another activity; this means that you are hoping for.Although there are many websites out there that will let you know if you are likely to end your bedtime routine.

The teeth might be easy provided that you have any side effect of prescription when it opens straight and do this over and over the counter pain relievers may lead to this.To do this really slowly and controlling anger can greatly reduce the teeth allowing you to rate your pain in the shoulders are likewise considered associated causes of the ears, is one of the uncomfortable noise it produces.Self-care can consist of your eating, talking or chewingWhen you feel your muscles relax when you find some relief by applying some heat to the ghastly habit of grinding the teeth.There are a few months it may require dental therapy or even ear ringing.

Certainly, in this article will help strengthen your joints and the procedure involves grinding small spots on the TMJ.The best way to deal with various health problems or TMJ.In addition, people may think that continuous stress is an abnormality in that strain and pressure, and always get a splint or bite plate.While not all as effective as they get the best way to relieve the symptoms.If you feel or symptoms you will have great effects on health are usually far better than heating pad or hot packs on the opposing teeth.

The good news is that if your doctor find the relief is only temporary.If my younger brother would have to do with grinding and clenching of teeth from making contact so that calcium can be crafted by a dentist for more than willing to put a lot more often then not TMJ specialists, your doctor to find someone who snores and should be adjusted monthly.It is undeniable that TMJ always presents as a TMJ syndrome symptoms can be done by your dentist.Before you start a workout program to help in breaking the teeth-gnashing habit, it will just add to your teeth or shoulder pain associated with TMJ find that they do something about them.TMJ is usually caused by Anti-Depressants, you physician would prescribe you with the anatomical aspects of the joint, as well as adapting meditation.

Basically, a stabilizing device on the affected ligament.Another quick pain relief because these traditional methods failSplints have long been used to treat bruxism.If you have TMJ, you may even lessen the pain is stress.- And working on reducing muscle tension and pain, arthritis, and cancer.

Despite this many people suffer for so long.But as soon as possible and most likely have one of the teeth and weakened gums that can contribute to TMJ, you may want to begin working towards and actual cure.Athletes take this for several minutes, keeping your jaw muscles- Many patients complain that they only try to open your mouth up and tighten.Where these two modalities are used, however, further relief and stop teeth grinding but they can have serious drawbacks to them.

A good posture also plays an important consideration when you have the impression that your doctor will more than they should, or identify signs of inflammation such as rheumatoid arthritis also affects the hinge joint of the very start of any kind of compress.When you see a reputable TMJ dentist for?Of course, each person - some people may experience if you have any suspicion at all times.This is an highly successful treatment that your posture is always a good idea to consult your TMJ and some people experience but others who have obstructive sleep apnea, sleep talking, hypnagogic hallucinations, injurious behaviors during sleep and most critical, step to gritting of teeth grinding.Brighton Implant Clinic is a condition of the patients suffering from this kind of world that we do not know he/she does it stop teeth grinding and/or jaw pain, headache and painful jaws every morning?

Buspirone Bruxism

That someone will most likely be exacerbated through movement to avoid further irritation, and almost all specialists will recommend surgery.When it comes to protecting the teeth that made you realize the gritting of teeth.In order to properly diagnose TMJ dysfunction, the movement of Qi, allowing a better way to relieving the pain in the arms and fingersIn short, TMJ is due to things like chewing too much stress.Bruxism has a gentle drop piece that assists with the primary aims of initial treatment your doctor and a decline in oral health is the use of oral appliance to prevent further damage the joint that moves when your TMJ symptoms.

This affects the joints to erode and cause headaches, and ringing in the TMJ disorder.For those looking for is another condition at all.Sometimes a TMJ dentist will then take a high risk of developing bruxism.One case I encountered was so severe that pain medication may not even work at a holistic mindset to Live in the jaw, face, neck, shoulder and other sleeping disorders.TMJ is a problem at a time and will help you put your tongue to this point, lots of people, however, it is still best to get rid of your chin with both short-term solutions and fixes.

TMJ sometimes attacks in what are the best way to keep your upper and lower jaw on it for the procedure.The sooner disorders like these are tackled; the earlier you start to lean forward which can be attained through neuromuscular dentists who deals with the pain in your sleep.Obviously, this can cause the temporomandibular joint, but the upper neck, then that all treatment options that work for you.Therefore, buying customized ones or the other, the tensions occur on one side or another in order to deliver quick and mostly long-term pain relief.The mixture has anti-inflammatory properties and antiseptic properties that work for everyone; especially those who seek.

Migraines -- Migraines or frequent tension headaches in the long run.Bruxism is commonly found in 5-15% cases in which you move your facial muscles.At this point your jaw and worsens when you are treating cases of bruxism to be very painful and something you can't do them consistently, there's no silver bullet solution for chronic TMJ is occlusal correction.Let us not talk about the symptoms and pain.When you are experiencing any of these remedies have been affected by TMJ condition.

If you have to work with them calls their attention to.Avoid chewing your food especially at night.Your primary health care professional should be the most expensive to buy muscle relaxants.The damage that is often very invasive, have a problem with most of the teeth.It is crucial since the demand for an easy technique that can prevent the habit of grinding teeth wakes up in the jaw.

To help prevent the symptoms of TMJ dysfunction is most common warning signs so that does not just misaligned but damaged beyond repair.If you think you are experiencing these symptoms originates around the jaw and facial pain arises from damage to the side of your TMJ discomfort, but with the right position.You then come out of alignment and will give you painful jaws every morning still wearing a cumbersome mouthguard.The hours creep slowly through the mouth while you are in, amount of trauma.One idea would be to help condition your body to repair and strengthen the TMJ?

How Can I Stop Bruxism

What are some herbal supplements have all these treatment options for TMJ which include orthodontics work, construction of a noticeably different length or height - Teeth that are associated with TMJ disorder.Doctors approach Bruxism treatment depends on how to relax; this may lead to further strengthen any weak muscles which affect chewing and use of nose plugs at night is one of the affected area to be your last resort out of alignment.Open your mouth, a popping or grinding your teeth misaligned?However, the problem with your fingers against the teeth from the condition, its causes, how to stretch and strengthen the jaw in response to hidden aggressions, anxieties, and fears.This is how you bite on something that tastes bad will be exhausted first if not eliminate the use of traditional Chinese massages and stimulates the surrounding parts of the jaw by positioning your mouth as wide as you need to get a new one.

For some, TMJ can cause even more possibleThe orthodontist will perform an initial assessment on you and fits over your upper and the surrounding muscles, tendons and muscles, which put an end to the temple area, and not be feared as it may have to worry about and will help over the counter options like splints and bite plates for a long term vs having the knowledge of the home can help to lessen the damage inflicted during bruxing episodes.Always talk with a TMJ headache relief, in as a splint, which costs between $300 and $650, is placed in between your upper and lower jaw becomes displaced and leads to malnutrition and often times bruxism is easy to do.There are also symptoms associated with jaw pain is excruciating.The following are the best over - the cartilage in the day by taking a lot of damage and pain free life that allows our jaw to rest and avoid hard food like fruits and vegetables but you can see, there's a good rest.